Pregnant to an Alien King Box Set

by Gloria Martin

  “I did, they were very cool, helping me with you three and then showing me a nice time. They said they did not know you either. However, as I said, I have been in Vegas long enough to know not to trust anyone. I figured to deal with you straight across instead of asking for their help,” she told them calmly.

  Inside she was freaking out. If they did not search her apartment, who did? She assumed there were plenty of thieves in town willing to do it, if they knew about the French coin. She wished she could blow off the Tortelli brothers denial but found she couldn’t. She believed they were confused about it. That meant there was someone else operating, an unknown piece in the game, as Jack called it. Laura spent a brief moment panicking in her head, and then just decided to take care of this and worry about the unknown later. Not that she had much choice.

  “Well if you didn’t do it, I guess I can’t demand my money back. I will settle for never seeing you again and you can have that stupid thing. I am not even sure why it is so important and I don’t want to know. So we have to find a way I can give you this and we all walk away. We need to do it fast though,” she said. At this point she was stalling. Reinforcements should have shown up by now. She suddenly had a new reason to be worried.

  “You say you want us to disappear after you give us that. We can give you our word, that we have never broken, but you have no reason to trust us. What would you like from us as proof? It will be difficult to get testimonials on such short notice.” He smiled and she laughed a little.

  He had a point, she thought. She sighed. They were getting as nervous looking as she was feeling. She had to get it done and out, somehow.

  “Ok I guess I will have to trust you. I don’t have much…” Laura was interrupted by the door behind her opening. She started to turn, thinking she knew who it was and froze. Jason walked in and closed the door behind him.

  “Now the proper negotiations can begin,” he said with a smile. He was wearing a leather jacket and jeans, street clothes. His jacket opened and they saw a gun.

  “What the hell!” she said at the same time the Tortellis did.

  “That’s right boys. I am going to take that little coin and you are going to jail. As for you Laura, sorry about your apartment but it had to be done,” he said. She felt herself trembling. Anger and fear were warring within her.

  “You trashed my apartment?” she asked.

  “And gave you the French coin. I figured it was the best way to get it out of the casino without being seen. The money was a nice consolation since the prize was not there,” he said glancing down at the coin on the chips. She heard the brothers rustling behind her and Jason put a hand on the gun.

  “Easy boys. I have already put out the word that I am the one selling that piece so you are out of the game. I am going to take it and show you a way out of the hotel so you won’t get caught,” he told them as if confirming a favor.

  “We will come after you,” Mark told him with a growl in his voice.

  “No you won’t, I know all the cops. It would be best if you put this whole thing behind you and go away,” he told them humorously.

  Even she knew that would never work. From everything she had learned there was no way they would let it go. It was a matter of pride. Considering he was the reason for her problems, she too felt obliged to see him go down.

  “What about me? Do you really think I am just going to let you walk away and screw me like this? If for no other reason than you robbed me. I can’t believe you robbed me!” When she repeated it her anger became stronger than her fear and she stood up. Jason frowned and backed off a step. She leaned against the table with the chips right behind her.

  “Back off Laura. You can just walk away and all of this will be a memory. You don’t want to try anything stupid over eight hundred dollars,” Jason told her. She turned and looked at the Tortelli brothers. All she could think of was to stall.

  “Can you believe this idiot? Why aren’t you doing something?” she asked. Hoping to get an argument going. Mark opened his mouth to speak when she heard the distinctive click of a gun behind her.

  “Enough is enough Laura. The cameras are off for this room and I can do whatever I want. It is a bonus of being a part of security,” she heard him say.

  She turned back to him and he was pointing the gun somewhere between her and the Tortellis as if he was not sure who to shoot first, and the gun had a silencer on it. She felt a chill, realizing he was going to shoot them all! Her fear returned in full force and she cursed herself for coming to Vegas.

  “Well you wanted excitement,” she muttered out loud to herself.

  “Don’t worry Laura, it ends here!” he said just as the door behind him burst open hitting him in the back.

  Jason stumbled forward and Laura turned away towards the table as his gun went off. She heard someone scream as she fell over the table when Jason fell into her. The table collapsed under them both. He rolled off of her and she rolled the other way in a panic. She heard shouting and cursing as many people seemed to swarm into the room. She saw Mr. Lander, Detective Avery as well as four more security personnel.

  Then she saw Jack come in. He saw her and came over helping her up. He took her hand and she had to unclench the fist she had made to grasp his hand. She trembled in Jack’s arms as Detective Avery arrested the three Tortelli brothers. Harry was the one who got shot and the medics had been standing by. Jason was cursing and claiming to have discovered a plot. Mark, James and Harry were yelling about him pulling a gun on them. Jack quietly led her out of the room’s other door to where Brock was waiting. Once out of the room she felt her fear slowly begin leaving her and took several deep breaths to calm herself.

  “Are you okay Laura? Damn I did not expect things to go sideways like that. I am so sorry to get you into this girl. I do not even know what to say,” he said.

  She could see the strain and worry in every line of his face, and Jack’s as well, and that was all she needed to see.

  “I am alright. You were cutting it a little close, but everything is fine. Right Jack?” she asked him.

  He gave a shaky smile and held up his closed hand.

  “We got it,” he said.

  Laura was relieved she had managed to palm the coin as she fell across the table. Brock shook his hand as if thanking him and then turned and walked down the hall. A minute later Detective Avery found them and wanted to go over what happened.

  *****

  Epilogue

  Laura smiled at her reflection in the little mirror. She did look good in fine clothes, she thought to herself happily. Leather and silk were wonderful things. She left the little airplane bathroom and went out to take her seat. Jack poured her a drink and they toasted.

  “Nice job darling. I have never met anyone who, on a first job, would have remembered to grab the coin when a gun was pulled on them. With the scattering of the chips there was no way to tell where it went,” he praised her.

  The word on the street was that the Tortellis had made a deal with Jason and it had gone wrong. Between them the coin had been lost. Her name was not even coming up. From what they had learned, the Tortelli’s organization thought Jason had screwed them, so again, Laura’s name was clear. Detective Avery got the bust of a lifetime and the gratitude of Mr. Lander, so everyone was happy. She felt the humming of the engines change pitch and put on her seatbelt like the others were doing. She had never flown before and her first time was going to be on a private jet.

  “I am surprised everything went so well,” she admitted.

  “We got lucky. Once the job was in motion we could not get a hold of you to tell you what we learned. The detective told us that the reports on the break in at your place showed that witnesses claimed it was done by one man, one American man. The Tortellis do everything together so it wasn’t them. After that I remembered you saying that Jason gave you your tip box. I wasn’t sure how he had anything to do with it, but knew he did. Once we got a hold of Mr. Landers he checked security and we
found several cameras down and Jason gone. Bingo. He had probably heard about the auction and wanted in. Stupid of him, but then again, it is Vegas,” Brock said and sipped his drink as the plane started moving.

  “So even if the Tortellis had not attracted attention to themselves by assaulting me, Jason would have tried something anyway. I was just at the wrong place, at the wrong time, or right time depending on how one looks at it,” Laura told them with a smile as the plane lifted off. She looked out the window loving the feeling in her stomach as they gained altitude quickly. These little planes really moved, she thought to herself.

  “How do you look at it Laura dear?” Brock asked softly. She glanced at them and saw them both watching her closely, looking concerned. She smiled for them and looked back out the window. The view from that height was amazing she decided.

  “Where are we headed again?” She asked.

  “Paris, France,” Jack answered.

  “Then I think I was in the right place at the right time,” she told them happily. Whatever happened, she knew her life would never be boring.

  THE END

  Bonus Story 16 of 50

  Her Mafia Landlord

  Darlene awoke in her 95 Honda Civic for the fourth morning in a row with one of the homeless people of Los Angeles tapping at her window. Today it was a woman who looked old enough to be Darlene’s mother. Although Darlene hadn’t seen this woman before, her dusty face, gray-blue eyes, and curly blonde hair blended with the face of Darlene’s mother seamlessly as she tore awake from a dream about home.

  “Spare some money for breakfast?” the woman asked.

  The fact that Darlene had just been dreaming about her deceased mother made her see the woman’s request in a different light. The homeless in Detroit weren’t as ruthless as the ones she’d been waking up to in L.A., but back home they seemed to be more dangerous.

  Darlene reached into her Seychelles shoe where she kept her cash hidden while she slept. Taking a few wrinkled singles from the wad, Darlene considered how she’d been rationing all of her money until she found a place to live. I can live without a couple bucks, she thought. Darlene unrolled the passenger side window and reached out for the woman to take the money.

  “It’s not much, but I hope it helps,” Darlene said.

  The woman curled her lips upon seeing that there were only two measly singles. “I’d rather take these bills and shove them up your ass with my teeth,” the woman said hoarsely before spitting with laughter. As the woman walked away without the money, Darlene felt the like the receiving end of some sadistic joke.

  Darlene wondered what the point of that was.

  There was no reason for the woman to be so malicious, and Darlene decided, against her better judgment, that she would never be a person who gives hand outs in Los Angeles ever again. If she were going to make it in this metropolis she would have to grow tough skin and worry about nobody but herself.

  Darlene had done well for herself as an interior designer back home. After getting her degree from the University of Michigan, Darlene couldn’t afford to stay in Ann Arbor. She moved back to Detroit to live in her father’s apartment with him, above the Italian restaurant he owned. Although Darlene had made some connections in Detroit through her father, the Italian Mafiosos who hired her limited her creativity as an interior designer.

  Since everyone knew and respected her father, they’d always pay her extra as a courtesy to the running her father used to do for the mob. Darlene didn’t love designing the same type of décor for Italian restaurants, bars, delis, and pizza places. A couple of her aunts opened up flower shops as fronts for money trafficking. These were the only projects that even mildly inspired Darlene. However, she didn’t like knowing that the hard work she put into orchestrating the perfect combination of furniture, colors, art, and spatial relation was spent on such mundane things. For Darlene, there was an art to interior design. It pained her to see her talent wasted.

  The only conclusion Darlene could come to was that she would be forever stuck in the same cycle unless she left the Midwest. She would have rather waited tables at her father’s restaurant than put any more useless energy into something she loved when it only made her life feel empty at the end of the day.

  Before her grandfather passed, Darlene would visit him every Sunday. He’d make them runny pancakes and strong coffee while they’d watch old black and white monster movies.

  “These movies,” her grandfather used to say, “these will make you the big money. These movies are the perfect front.”

  “The perfect front for what, grandpa?” Darlene would ask.

  “For the Hollywood Heist,” he’d laugh, spilling his coffee onto the card table where they ate breakfast. “I’ve been planning this job for years, Darlene. Just you wait.”

  For years she thought it was an inside joke between them. Darlene learned, however, that her grandfather had been utterly serious. Before his death he left Darlene a detailed plan regarding the Hollywood Heist as a part of his will.

  It wasn’t a joke after all, she thought. She didn’t tell the rest of her family about the heist plans, but they were part of the inspiration for her moving to Los Angeles. Darlene even brought the handwritten plans in case some crazy opportunity ever presented itself, or she became desperate to con someone into doing the dirty work for her.

  All the work she got through her father’s friends helped Darlene save enough to rent an apartment in Los Angeles. At least she hoped that five thousand dollars would be enough to cover the deposit, first month’s rent, and any other bills, utilities, or expenses she would need to get herself set up in the city. She’d been hoping to find a friend or meet someone networking at a Meetup group, but so far those had all proven fruitless.

  Well, she thought, I’m just going to have to resort to Craigslist. Going online to find some cheap apartment was the absolute last thing that Darlene wanted to do, but it was either that or continue to wake up being harassed by the homeless outside her car. She started to wonder if even they were more secure in the City of Angels than she was.

  *****

  It was Pete’s turn to host poker night because last time Tony Rollonio’s blood and teeth stained Mario’s new carpet. Pete didn’t mind that the boys wanted to go to his new place for poker night—hell, it was actually a compliment to his character. If Victor Lumino was willing to play poker at your house, that meant you were practically made for life.

  Victor had recently promoted Pete “The Piper” Zanelli from soldier to caporegime. Being one of Vic’s Capos was an honor Pete had desired for most of his adult life. He’d started as a runner for Vic when Vic was only an underboss. That was way back when his uncle, Micky Lumino, still ran the Los Angeles crime family. Pete was one of the few people who knew that Vic had killed his uncle in order to move up. In fact, Vic asked Pete personally to help him in the murder. It was a guaranteed promotion, and Vic promised Pete that if he stuck with him then he’d be taken care of.

  And so far Pete had been taken care of pretty good. As one of Vic’s new Capos, Vic made sure to stock Pete’s wardrobe with new name brand suits, bought him a BMW, and even let him manage his restaurant, Lumino’s. Of course the management position was a front for what he really did for Vic. The restaurant itself only served as a way for Vic to claim and launder money from “alternative” sources.

  Poker night, however, was not something Vic usually entrusted to the soldiers, but as a Capo his name was in the running to host. The previous month Tony Rollonio drank a few too many glasses of vino and ended up spilling his guts about money he owed all over town for gambling.

  “If you owe money for gambling, playing cards with us is the last thing you want be doing, Tony,” Mario said. Pete kept his mouth shut. He didn’t have anything but a pair of fours anyway.

  “But if I win with you guys then I can pay the other guys back,” Tony said.

  “If you lose tonight, Tony, then Mario is knocking your teeth out,” Vic said.
/>   “That ain’t very funny, Vic,” Tony said.

  “It ain’t meant to be funny,” Vic said, swigging his McAllan 12. When he set his glass back down on the card table all the guys knew to roar with laughter, even Tony.

  “I can’t argue with the boss,” Mario said.

  They played the rest of the hand as they would any other, except Pete could see from behind his cards that Tony was sweating. If Pete was right about which cards had already been played from the deck, which he usually was, Tony couldn’t have had more than three of a kind. Pete might not have been able to win the hand, but he was also sure that the odds were not in Tony’s favor.

  Pete had folded quickly into the hand, but Tony kept upping the ante. Pete knew that Tony was trying to bluff a good hand, but the sweat on his brow gave the poor guy away. Pete scratched his left eyebrow, signaling to Vic that Tony couldn’t possibly have squat. Vic lifted his glass and took another sip of scotch. This was his signal to Pete that his hand couldn’t be beat.

  “Well, boys,” Pete said, standing up and finishing off his Stella Artois, “I’m going to go out for more booze.” Tony looked up from his cards, familiar with the lingo coming out of Pete’s mouth. Tony knew not to stand up as Pete went to the doorway, blocking its entire frame with his body. The doorframe in the kitchen was the only way to exit the house, and unless Tony was prepared to break through Pete then he was stuck to finish the hand.

  “Alright, let’s see what we got,” Vic said. His glass of scotch had been empty for a whole minute. Vic laid his cards out on the table, revealing a royal flush. Everybody else at the table felt stupid laying their own hands down because they would obviously be incomparable to Vic’s undefeatable hand.