Loving Vincent: A Mafia Romance Novella

by Nikita Slater

  He nodded and relayed the information to the others, then over radio getting the team at the front door ready for them. Using her free hand Jenna awkwardly pulled medical scissors out of her First Aid kit and started cutting away his shirt so she could see the damage. Oh Jesus. She wished she hadn’t. Whoever had done this to him knew what they were doing. It was a miracle this man wasn’t dead already. Jenna sat back on her heels and stared down at the mess of a chest with despair. Two stab wounds up under the ribs puncturing each lung, two to the stomach and the one in the neck. She was looking at a dead man.

  The sound of a breath gurgling out from between his lips one last time coincided with the arrival of the stretcher. "We need to start CPR the second he’s on," Jenna yelled up at her new partner. "I’ll need two people on either side, lifting him. As soon as he’s on, you put your hand over mine on his neck wound, I’ll slip mine out, then press down hard. Put the mask over his nose and mouth and make sure it’s sealed. Start pumping on my mark."

  She looked around at the guards spotting a big guy that she was friendly with. "Dale! Can you lift me on top of him when he’s up? I’ll put my foot on the bar and you help me over."

  The officers moved positions as she instructed, several of them replacing the ones that were guarding the prisoners. The last thing they needed was for a riot to erupt, and violence was usually a good excuse to start one.

  In synchronization they hefted the injured inmate onto the stretcher while Dale grasped Jenna by the waist and lifted her until she was straddling the patient. Her hand was replaced on the neck wound.

  "Okay go!" she yelled. "Is the ambulance here?"

  "Not yet," one of the officers yelled back over the blaring siren. "ETA two minutes out."

  She locked her fingers together and placed the heel of her hand against the bloody chest ignoring the wounds. She looked at the man holding the pump and nodded. "Ready and go," she said, he squeezed the pump slow and steady as he jogged beside the stretcher. "And again."

  She began her chest compressions, bracing her knees against the patient’s hips and sitting up to give herself more leverage. As they left the yard she looked up. One of the prisoner’s had rolled his head to the side and was tracking the stretcher with sharp, deadly eyes. Enrico Garcia was watching her with chilling intensity as she tried to resuscitate the man she knew without a doubt he’d just stabbed five times.

  Seven

  Jenna nearly sobbed with relief when she arrived home to find her door locked and her lights working. She flew through the tiny house grabbing whatever essentials her hysterical mind could think of and throwing them in a bag. She knew he would come for her. She could feel him stalking closer, hear his promise to enslave her echoing through her brain.

  Oh god, why hadn’t she just done what he’d wanted and given Enrico the message? It’d just been a date and a time. Saturday at noon. The exact time Steve Buffalo had died. An event that had taken place without her cooperation. She knew that she couldn't be complicit in whatever they were planning, just as she knew now, in her heart, that her conscience was clear. Only her damn conscience was going to get her raped and killed.

  For a split second she thought about going to the police, of reporting the incident to the prison. She didn’t want the burden of knowing who killed Steve Buffalo. But it was her word against theirs and pissing off the big guy from last night even more seemed like a bad idea. Maybe she should have gone to the police when Jared first arrived on her doorstep, but she’d managed the situation and didn’t want the hassle of a police report. And then, when her night-time intruder kissed her…. she’d liked it. She’d been confused and hadn’t wanted to tell the police exactly how he was threatening her. Besides, she had to think about Lola. If she went to the police now, she could potentially be charged with accessory after the fact for not reporting Enrico the moment he mentioned that note to her. Now it was too late. Buffalo was dead and she was a marked woman.

  Fuck, fuck, fuck.

  This day was the worst ever! She had lost her patient, despite having worked desperately hard to revive him. He’d died before they’d gotten him out of the gang yard. She was still wearing the same scrubs, splattered in his blood. She didn’t want to slow down long enough to change. She could change when she got there. Throwing a few items of clothes into a backpack, she gathered up her bags and ran out to her car.

  Zach was going to be extremely pleased to see her on his doorstep. She hated that thought, but she didn’t have a choice. She wasn’t going to ground unless she had her little girl and she couldn’t do that without cozying up to her ex. Zach had wanted her back almost from the moment she left their mansion two years ago and he’d been using Lola as a bargaining chip ever since. She would have to pretend she was in trouble, which really wasn't too much of a stretch. She would pretend that she'd finally seen the light. She would tell him she missed him and she was done living in poverty. She’d throw herself on his mercy and beg his forgiveness, whatever it took to get her inside the house. Then she’d disappear with Lola the moment his back was turned.

  It took all of her concentration not to speed during the forty-five-minute drive to Zach’s house. Her eyes flitted constantly to the rearview mirror, searching for any suspicious vehicles. It felt like they were all out to get her. She was mentally and physically drained by the time she followed the curving drive around to the front of the house she used to share with her ex-husband

  She got out of the car, leaving her bags behind in case he decided to send her packing instead. Wearily she climbed the steps to the front door. She wrapped the edges of her sweater around herself, trying to cover the bloodstains on her scrubs. She rang the bell and stood waiting, shivering in the gathering darkness as evening descended.

  The door opened and her ex-husband looked down at her for several silent seconds, his gaze completely inscrutable. Then a satisfied smile split his lips as he greeted her. "Welcome home, darling."

  Eight

  "Your bird’s flown."

  Vince looked up from where he was shrugging into his leather jacket. He was about to head over to Jenna’s house and collect on her debt. Avery Larson, one of his security men, strode into Vince’s office. Avery’s presence was bad news since he was supposed to be sitting on her house. Vince sent him over the minute Jenna got off work.

  "Apparently she left work early and flew the coop before we could get there," he said gruffly. "Sorry boss. This was my bad."

  "Not your fault," Vince snapped, not in the mood to soothe his guy’s feelings right now. "I should’ve put someone on the house from the beginning."

  Vince wanted to punch something. Of course she’d run. She knew he would be gunning for her. He’d as much as promised he'd come after her if she didn’t deliver his message. What she didn’t know was his intentions had changed. He wasn’t planning on using her up and throwing her away anymore, he was going to keep her.

  "GPS on the car?" he grunted, pulling his phone out of his pocket and calling Jared.

  "She drives an older model Malibu. No GPS," Avery said quickly.

  "Fuck, that woman is a goddam thorn in my ass!" he snarled.

  Jared answered his phone. "The nurse, I take it?"

  "Who else? She ran from her house. I want men all over this city. Have them check every single one of her contacts. I want constant check-ins. Let me know the second she’s found."

  Jared grunted his assent and hung up.

  He called back two hours later. "She’s at her ex’s house. He’s that shady criminal lawyer, Zachery Morris. Explains why she’s been having so much trouble getting that kid back. I have the address. Do you want us to go pick her up?"

  Fury exploded in Vince’s chest and he was glad that she wasn’t there with him. He was cruel on a good day, but in that moment, he knew he would unleash the possessive wrath that had threatened to burst free from the moment he’d seen her picture. She had run into her ex-husband’s arms rather than stay and face him. She would soon realize that t
here was no safe haven for her. That he would be her entire universe from now on and she could choose whether that was heaven or hell.

  "I’ll do this myself. I want you with me and two more for backup in case Morris has security guys. He should have a pretty good idea who I am. I don’t anticipate much trouble retrieving my property."

  Nine

  Jenna felt sick. She felt like a prostitute and she hadn’t even done anything yet. Even though she was sleeping in an entirely different room from Zach, she was still lying in a bed that belonged to him and wearing a silk nightie that he bought for her. Which was creepy as hell considering she hadn’t lived in the house for years. He kept all of her things exactly the way she left them. Even her toiletries had remained untouched on her makeup table. And the man accused her of having mental health issues.

  She despised having to accept his charity. Charity that was bought with dirty money, given to him by rich clients that needed a smooth-talking lawyer to buy people off. She wished it had been his slimy business dealings that had finally driven her out of his home. No, it had been the mistress he’d taken up with as she’d struggled alone with postpartum depression after Lola’s birth. Afraid that people would talk, he hadn’t allowed her to seek medical help for her condition. She’d slipped further and further into the darkness of her depression until she’d finally decided to end it by swallowing a package of sleeping pills with a bottle of rum.

  As she lay in the bed next to Lola’s bassinet slowly allowing the jagged edges of fuzziness in her vision to close in, she had the thought that the only person who would be left to take care of her daughter was an evil conscienceless bastard. And even though at the time Jenna thought she was the worst mother in the world, because depression is a mean bitch that tells you bullshit lies, she was leagues better than Zach. She had rolled off the bed and reached for the phone, fumbling with numb fingers.

  The ambulance had arrived minutes later and rushed her to the hospital where her stomach had been pumped. There she had been assessed by medical professionals and given the medical intervention that she needed for postpartum depression. Not even 24 hours after she was released from the hospital, she sought the services of a divorce lawyer. And that was when the long agonizing battle for custody of her daughter began.

  Zach never wanted to let her go. He’d been blindsided by the divorce and begged her to come back to him. When that didn’t work, he tried bullying her until she threatened him with a restraining order. A man in his position would be incredibly embarrassed by such legal action so he had backed off and trusted in his own clout to win the court over to his side.

  She smiled into the bedding and thought about how she would get to see her daughter in the morning. He hadn’t let her see Lola tonight because it'd been past her bedtime when Jenna arrived, and he wanted to know what brought his ex-wife back to him looking for sanctuary. She had spilled the whole story to him, not bothering to hold anything back. The added strain and emotion helped to convince him that she was being truthful. She decided to use him if she could. He was a criminal lawyer. Even though he was scum, maybe he could help her.

  She was certain he wanted her to sleep with him, but he’d restrained himself, showing her to one of the guest rooms instead. She’d cringed when he reappeared with one of her old negligees, a short black silk nightie with crisscrossing straps up both sides showing an indecent amount of thigh and side boob. His help would soon come with a hefty price tag. He never made a secret of his intentions during their court appearances and Lola’s supervised visits. He wanted his wife back.

  She intended to be long gone before that happened.

  Jenna didn’t know how long she’d been sleeping when the doorbell woke her up. She blinked sleepily and rolled on to her back rubbing a hand over her eyes and looking toward the window. It was still dark out. Yawning widely, she sat up.

  Zach was stumbling in the hall swearing and, if she weren’t mistaken, pulling on a pair of pants. It wasn't unusual for him to get nighttime visitors. Crime didn't really run on a timeline and you never knew when someone powerful needed legal advice because his stupid nephew got charged with a DUI or something. Still, Jenna didn’t like having a visitor so close to her own arrival.

  Sliding out of bed she reached for the barely-there matching silk robe that went with her nightie and crept noiselessly into the hallway. She knew just where to stand in the shadows at the top of the stairs so she could hear the conversation without being seen. Too many shady visitors from the past had taught her to be her vigilant.

  "You know who I am?" she heard the words clearly from her vantage point and gasped as recognition crashed over her.

  Zach cleared his throat. "Of course, Vincent Corey and Jared Lagos. There’s few in our circles that wouldn’t know of you."

  Jenna watched in shock as Zach stood back to let the two men that had stalked and harassed her into his home. He couldn't know that they were the ones she had told him about. She hadn’t known their names. Well, she’d learned Jared’s name during their chat, but neither man’s full name, so she hadn’t been able to identify them. She felt Zack could be more careful about letting people into his home knowing she was in trouble. Vincent, the one that’d come to her home, that had kissed her and forced her to feel things, zeroed in on the staircase as though he could see her. Jenna pressed her spine back against the wall, melting further into the shadows.

  "Please come into my office, we can discuss your business more comfortably in there," Zach tried to usher them into his spacious workroom.

  "I don't think so," Vincent said coldly, refusing to move. "I prefer to speak right here."

  "Alright… of course, ah, what brings you gentleman to my home at this hour?" Zach asked deferentially, clearly trying to understand the situation. He believed they were there for the same reason any other criminal element showed up at his door in the middle of the night.

  "You have something that belongs to me," Vincent said with such loathing that a chill slithered down Jenna’s spine. She’d made a huge mistake in running to someone from her past. To a place where she could be traced. She should have left the city and just kept going. But she couldn’t bring herself to leave Lola behind!

  Zach sounded extremely confused. "I’m not sure how that’s possible since we just met tonight. I believe you have me mistaken with someone else. Unless you mean - "

  "Jenna," Vincent bit out.

  "Fuck," Zach said, realizing exactly who she managed to tangle with. He probably knew better than her what she was up against. "You want my wife?"

  "Ex-wife," Vincent snarled, his tattooed fingers curling into massive fists. Jared crossed his arms and glared at the lawyer, letting him know exactly how things were about to go down.

  Jenna’s head spun as she watched the showdown in the lobby of her husband’s mansion. She knew realistically that there was going to be one outcome. Despite his obsession with her, Zach would have no choice but to let her go. He had a keen sense of self-preservation that would put his safety above her well-being.

  Fuck that. She wasn’t going to stand here and meekly listen to them hash out her fate. She was getting the hell out of there and she was taking her daughter with her. Even though she didn’t have a clue where she was going or how she would get there, she wasn’t leaving Lola to spend one more day with her terrible excuse for a human-being of a father.

  Turning swiftly on the stairs, Jenna went tearing toward Lola’s room at the end of the hall. Though, at three-years-old, Lola was outgrowing her crib, she wasn't willing to give up her bed quite yet. It appeared as though Zach had taken Jenna’s suggestion at their last supervised meeting and lowered the side a foot so the little girl could climb in and out on her own. Lola was sprawled out on her back with all four limbs in completely incongruous directions that any other time would have Jenna bursting with laughter. Instead she rapidly gathered the soft unicorn patterned blanket around the soundly sleeping child and lifted her.

  Lola didn’t wake as J
enna hurried down the back stairway. She was both pleased and amazed that she was able to make it silently through the dark house with her sleeping child. She hoped Zach hadn’t changed the code to the garage and that there was still a set of keys to her old Mercedes in the maintenance shed. If she could actually get out of town that easily she would spend the rest of her life living like Mother Teresa, dedicating her life to making Lola happy. In Mexico. Or Canada. Whichever border was easier to cross unnoticed in a stolen Mercedes.

  She shifted Lola’s weight onto her shoulder, unlocked the kitchen door and slipped out into the darkness. A heavy hand came down on her shoulder drawing a stifled scream from her. Her eyes flew up into the face of a man she’d never met before but knew to her bones belonged to Vincent Corey. His eyes pierced her in the darkness and then fell to Lola who was still sleeping but beginning to murmur restlessly against Jenna’s breast. He lifted a finger to his rugged face in a gesture that she should be quiet. Then he shifted his hand to circle her upper arm and push her back into the house.

  He gave her a gentle shove, closed the door behind them and then indicated she should lead the way. He didn’t let her go. She understood. He wanted her to go back to the front door where the trio of men were negotiating her surrender. Bowing her shoulders slightly, Jenna nodded. What else could she do? She didn’t want Lola to wake up during this unholy mess and become upset.

  Vincent’s eyes narrowed immediately on Jenna as she emerged from the back of the house barefoot, wearing a sheer black lace wrap and holding a sleeping bundle. His body tightened subtly and he raised a questioning brow toward his man.

  "Caught her leaving out the back door. I’d guess she was heading for the garage," the guy grunted quietly.