Sal Gabrini: Burning Love

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Sal Gabrini: Burning Love Page 5

by Mallory Monroe


  A while ago, in a twisted plot Tommy nor Sal knew was even happening, Tommy’s controlling interest in the Gabrini Corporation, a corporation he founded, was placed under Sal’s complete control. It took a lot of untangling, but it was now finalized. “You’re back in charge, Mr. Control Freak,” Sal added with a smile. “So keep your shirt on.”

  Tommy laughed. “Very funny. But that’s not why I’m calling you.”

  It was the weightier matter, Sal thought. Damn. “So, what’s up?”

  “My exact question to you,” Tommy responded. “What’s this about a shooting yesterday?”

  Sal closed his eyes. That Reno! “Some guy came into this lodge I own, but I got it covered.”

  “That guy was the son of that Nigerian couple, correct?” Tommy was Sal’s commanding officer when that couple was killed. Tommy was the reason Sal was exonerated of all charges. Tommy was the reason Sal quit the force shortly after his exoneration because Tommy, disgusted by cop corruption at every level and his participation in it, quit first.

  “Something like that, yes,” Sal responded.

  “Something like that, Sal? Don’t get cute with me. Who set you up?”

  Sal smiled. “Who said it was a set up?”

  “I did. This nonsense the media is spinning about the kid coming up with evidence to convict you of his parents’ murder is bogus. I’m not buying it. You don’t play those games.”

  Sal nodded. He loved Tommy’s confidence in him, despite his unsavory past. “Thanks, Tommy. And as to who’s behind it? I’m working on it.”

  “Didn’t you have that meeting with Mouse and Tito yesterday, too? You think there’s a connection?”

  “It may be. I don’t know yet. They’re losing their territory like it’s nobody’s business, and the guy responsible won’t reveal himself. Maybe that guy is responsible for this shit too. I just don’t know at this point. But I’ll find out.”

  “Where’s Gemma?”

  “In the Nursery.”

  “How’s she taking it? I saw those news reports. She’s taking a beating in the press. They’re playing up the racial angle.”

  “Crazy, right?” Sal asked. “Like I’m going to kill somebody because of the color of their skin. That’s nuts.”

  “It’s nuts to everybody who know and love your ornery ass,” Tommy reminded him. “It’s not nuts to a public who only know what they read in the papers. Do you need me to come over there?” Tommy lived and worked out of Seattle.

  “Thanks, Tommy, but I can handle it.”

  “Sure?”

  “I’m sure.”

  “Just remember Gemma in all of this. She comes first.”

  Sal hated when they questioned his commitment to Gemma that way. He never questioned Tommy’s loyalty to Grace. Nor Reno’s to Trina. But they were always questioning his loyalty to Gemma. “No doubt about it,” he said. “Why would you even bring that up?”

  “You know why.”

  “Why, Tommy? I’ll always do right by Gemma. I know she comes first. Why would you feel a need to have to tell me that?”

  “Okay, you want to go there? Let’s go there. I heard Sweets was up in that bitch with you. That true?”

  Sal closed his eyes. Why was it never cut and dry with him? “Yes,” he said. “But not from my doing. She lied her way in. And when I finish with this case, I’ll deal with her.”

  “But nothing happened, right?”

  Sal couldn’t believe it. “Hell no, Tommy! You know I wouldn’t do that to Gemma. Why would you even ask it?”

  “The same reason Sweets name came up,” Tommy responded. “You still have that just in case it doesn’t work out with Gemma mentality. You still think you’re going to mess up and she’s going to leave your ass. But that mentality means you’ll keep messing up. It’s the fucking twilight zone with you, Sal. It’s catch-22. That’s why I asked it.”

  “Whatever,” Sal said with a flash of anger. Sometimes his past felt crippling. “I’ve got to go.”

  “Call me later.”

  “Yeah, sure,” Sal said, and was about to end the call angrily. But he couldn’t do that to Tommy. “I’ll call you,” he said with less bite, and then ended the call.

  Even his big brother, a man he knew loved him dearly, didn’t believe he deserved Gemma. And Sal knew it too. He wasn’t blind to that reality. Gemma was a highly moral, highly ethical classy young woman who always worked hard and played by the rules. He knew she could have had herself a good, decent man without all the baggage he had. But what did they expect him to do about it now? He was trying to get where she needed him to be. He was doing all he could to live up to the kind of man she deserved. But he kept having these damn setbacks!

  “Thanks for waiting,” Gemma said as she returned from the Nursery and made her way back into the kitchen.

  And now he had to man up and answer her questions. “I should have told you about the lodge,” he said before she asked him anything.

  Gemma stood at the center island beside him and stared deep into his expressive eyes. What most people didn’t know about Sal that Gemma knew in spades was that he was all heart. And that big heart kept him loaded down with guilt. When he messed up, he owned it. He didn’t make excuses or beat around the bush. He owned his shit. But what she still couldn’t figure out about him was why he kept having shit to own.

  “I joined that country club long before I met you,” he continued. “When you become a member, you obtain ownership of one of the lodges on site. The only time I used the place was when I needed a private setting to meet with some of my . . . some of my associates in my other business ventures.”

  She knew what he meant. He finally admitted to her, after they were married, that he was indeed the mob boss he was reputed to be. But she was not a part of that world. He made certain of it.

  “I thought after Chicago you were going to come clean about all of the real estate you owned around this country,” she said. “That house in Chicago, and the fact that you didn’t tell me about it, almost cost us our marriage, Sal. Now we’re back doing that again?”

  But Sal was already shaking his head. “No. It’s nothing like that.”

  “Then why didn’t you tell me about that lodge?”

  “Because it’s something I need for that other part of my life. The part I don’t want anybody to accuse you of knowing anything about. You’re an attorney, Gem. You’re an officer of the court. If shit goes down, you need to be able to say unequivocally that you knew nothing about certain things in my life. I have to see to that. I have to use my judgement on this.”

  Gemma understood how protective Sal was of her concerning his mob ties. But sometimes it felt as if he was overly protective. “What about the female Mo was talking about?” she asked him.

  Sal frowned. “Mo? Who’s Mo?”

  “Detective Morales,” Gemma said.

  “Oh,” Sal said. He often forgot how closely Gemma had to work with law enforcement.

  When he didn’t continue, she asked again. “What about the female, Sal? Was there a woman at that lodge with you?”

  He knew he had to come clean. “Yes,” he said. “Her name is Teresa Kerner. We call her Sweets.”

  Gemma’s heart felt faint. “What is she to you?” she asked.

  “We used to fool around, I’m not gonna lie. Whenever I went to the lodge, we hooked up. But that was before I met you. She means nothing to me, babe. Nothing!”

  “Why was she there?”

  “She lives out there. She apparently saw some activity around my place, I had a meeting with a couple of mobsters who need my help, and decided to inject herself into the conversation. I wasn’t even there when she convinced Robby to let her in to wait for me. So, he let her wait in the bedroom, like it used to be back in the day. I was ready to kick her ass out when that guy walked in.”

  But Gemma had a different image. “Was she naked in that bedroom waiting for you?” she asked.

  Sal wanted to lie. He wanted to say th
at she was fully clothed. But he couldn’t go there with Gemma. “Yes,” he said. “But nothing happened. You know that, right?”

  Gemma didn’t answer his question. She was tired of that blind trust Sal kept expecting her to have in him while constantly giving her reasons not to have any trust at all. Sometimes she wondered if she was a fool in love, something she swore she’d never be. She grabbed up her briefcase and cell phone.

  “Was that what you wanted to talk about?” he asked her.

  She shook her head. “No. I needed to tell you something.”

  Sal was surprised that that wasn’t it. “What?”

  “I filed papers yesterday to run for District Attorney.”

  Sal, at first, was worried for her. What if she lost? But then he realized who he was talking about. Nobody worked harder, or was more committed, than Gemma. “Is that what you truly want to do? I know you’ve talked about it a lot, but I thought you were still in the thinking about it process.”

  “I was, and no, it’s not what I want to do exactly. I wish I didn’t have to do it. But I feel it’s what I need to do. I filed yesterday because that was the filing deadline. I hope to have my campaign operations up and running over the next month.”

  Sal nodded. “Okay.” Then he smiled. “Okay. Good. You know I’ll have your back one hundred percent.”

  Gemma smiled. She appreciated that. “Thanks, Sal.”

  “And I want you to call Brent’s wife Makayla too. She ran for DA in Maine and won. I mean, Jericho is no Vegas, but at least she has experience.”

  “You’re right,” Gemma said. She hadn’t thought of Makayla Sinatra. “And I will call her.”

  “What can we expect?” Sal asked. “These elections cost a lot of money, don’t they?”

  “Yes,” Gemma said. “Lots of money, I’m afraid. I’ll have to have fundraisers.”

  Sal frowned. “Fundraisers my ass! Whatever you need you let me know. I don’t want any of those cocksuckers out there thinking my wife owes them anything. I’ll open a separate account. Put ten, twenty million in there to get you started, and we’ll go from there. Hire you a campaign manager. Hire your staff. Be in it to win it, not to be some also-ran.”

  Gemma smiled. Then she couldn’t help it. She sat down her briefcase and pulled Sal into her arms. “Thanks, babe,” she said as they embraced. “Thank you so much.”

  Sal placed his hand on the back of her neck and looked into her eyes. His look was serious. “You don’t have to thank me,” he said. “You hear me? All the shit I put you through, the least I can do is support your career choices.” Then he frowned. “I just hope my ass isn’t a liability for you. They’re going to use your marriage to a wise guy like me against you. You know that, right?”

  Gemma nodded. She knew. “Yes,” she said.

  “And with this case over my head, and all this shit about racism and all of that craziness, many pundits might not think you stand a chance.”

  “They can think whatever they wish,” Gemma said, her arms still around Sal, “but I didn’t file those papers to run and lose. I intend to win. And while my opponent is talking about you, I’m going to be talking about the voters, and what I can do to ensure that when they come before the Clark County court system, they will get a fair shake. My message is going to be simple. And I’m going to drill it home. I welcome them focusing on you,” she said to laughter from Sal. “I’ll be focusing on the voters.”

  When Sal stopped laughing, he looked deep into her eyes. And that look of love she gave him, despite all of his faults, overtook him. “I love you, Gemma Jones-Gabrini,” he said, and kissed her.

  Gemma closed her eyes and basked in his kiss. No man was able to make her feel the way Sal made her feel. And when she began to feel his erection growing, and her vagina moistening, she knew she was about to get some again. And she relished the thought as she ran her hands through his hair and kissed him sloppily the way he was kissing her.

  And soon it didn’t matter that she was dressed for work. It didn’t matter that he had a safe house interview to attend, an interview that was never pleasant. All that mattered to Sal and Gemma at that moment in time was their togetherness. And when Sal lifted her skirt and pulled down her panties, and when she unzipped Sal’s pants and pulled out his fully aroused penis, they both knew they were about to go to that special place.

  He lifted her, she wrapped her legs around him, and he carried her to the side wall. Then he placed his hand around his cock and pushed it inside of her sweet and wet narrow passage. And he began fucking her again. He pushed into her and pushed into her and moved around inside of her as if it was an invasion.

  And for Gemma, it was. It was the invasion of his love. Because Sal turned her on. Because he was taking over every inch of her body in a way that made her feel as if she could stay in this very spot, and feel this wonderful feeling forever. Her back was against that wall. Her legs were wrapped around his waist. Her hands were around his neck. And she was enjoying every second of his takeover.

  He reached over and kissed her as he fucked her. Despite all the hell that waited them on the other side, and all the nastiness Sal had to do to make sure they came out of this unscathed, he still wouldn’t want to be anywhere else but where he was with Gemma. He loved her. And that brought him joy in and of itself. As he fucked her long and hard, and as she held on as his thrusts became more intense, he knew how much he loved his wife. He loved to love his baby.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Robby Yale sat beside Lester Amridge, with guards posted outside and around the room, when Sal arrived at the safe house. The guy was so nervous that he couldn’t stop his leg from shaking. And it only got worse when Sal arrived. Robby would have felt sorry for the guy if it had not been for the fact that he might have done something that might cost his boss his liberty, and, with Sal locked up, Robby his job. He didn’t play when it came to his coins.

  He stood up when Sal walked in, and forced Lester to stand too. Sal’s entire focus was on their prisoner. He had been roughed up, if his black eye was any indication. Which meant he apparently resisted their attempts to take him there. And he was scared as a motherfuck. Sal was more convinced than ever, without hearing a word that he had to say, that they were on the right track. He was guilty as sin.

  “Boss, I want you to meet Lester Amridge, the manager of the Granville Golf and Country Club Housing Division. Lester, this is Sal Gabrini.”

  Lester had the nerve to extend his hand. Sal didn’t even look at it. “You assigned my property to the Nigerian,” he said.

  Lester knew he couldn’t deny that. “Yes, sir. And as I told your man here, I want to extend my deepest apologies for that. I never dreamed Mr. Chikelu would have suffered such a fate. It was devastating news. But a totally unpreventable error.”

  “Who paid you to make the error?” Sal asked.

  Lester frowned. “Who paid me, sir?”

  “Yeah, who paid you?”

  “Why, nobody paid me. As I told your man---”

  “I don’t give a fuck what you told my man.” Sal pulled out his gun and placed it against Lester’s forehead. Lester peed in his pants. “I’m telling you this,” Sal said. “Name the name or die right now.”

  Tears dropped from his eyes. “I don’t know what you’re referencing, sir.”

  Sal cocked his gun. Lester jumped again. “You have two seconds. One one-hundredth,” Sal said. But before he could say two one-hundredth, Lester caved.

  “My cousin,” he said. “He made me do it. He got me the job two weeks ago, when you said you were coming to the club. And then he got in touch with the Nigerian. He told the poor guy that he was going to meet with him there to discuss some evidence he claimed he found. Evidence that implicated you,” he said to Sal. “I gave him clearance in. He had no idea he was being set up. He had no idea he was going to be met with gunfire. But my cousin knew it. He knows you too well. He said you’d shoot a black man first, and ask questions later.”

  That
was a lie, and Sal knew it. But he had bigger problems to deal with than his bad reputation. “Who’s your cousin?” Sal asked. He and Robby both were anxious to hear that answer.

  Lester exhaled. It was going to be his hide if his cousin found out he snitched. But this was Sal Gabrini. He knew how mean that bastard was. “Tito,” he said. “Tito Zecatta.”

  Sal had suspected a connection. The same day he met with Zecatta and Mouse an intruder appears? It wasn’t entirely surprising to him at all. But it was surprising to Robby. He looked at Sal. “Tito?” he asked.

  Sal nodded. “Where is he now?” he asked.

  “I don’t know,” Lester responded.

  Sal stared at Lester. “Your part in the scheme was to put the Nigerian in the way of my bullets?”

  Lester had never looked at it that way. But it was a correct observation. “Yes,” he said.

  “What do you think I should do to you?” Sal asked.

  “Spare me,” Lester said. “I was only doing what my cousin ordered me to do. I’m a victim here too.”

  Sal stared at him. “You’re a victim?” Then Sal frowned. “What are you nuts? You’re the one who led an innocent man to his death!”

  “A man who hated your guts,” Lester shot back.

  “Hating me doesn’t harm my family. I don’t give a shit who hates me! But you caused me to have to kill that innocent man. I don’t do that shit. When I pull a trigger, it’s because the fucker who gets it deserved to get it. It’s because the fucker who gets it tried to do me in.” He looked Lester squarely in the eyes. “You tried to do me in,” he said.

  Lester shook his head, and pleaded for his life, but Sal wasn’t interested. He killed a man, a man who didn’t deserve it, because of him. He could be facing life in prison because of him. He fired, one shot, close range. Lester fell to the floor. He was dead.

  Robby nodded his approval. And then looked at Sal.

  “Find Tito and Mouse,” Sal ordered. “Bring them in.”

  Robby was concerned. “With the kind of security they have, it won’t be easy.”

 

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