Mob Lust

by Nova Rain

  “It’s him,” I silently mouthed to Michelle.

  “Don Maltese, with all due respect, we just got back from Vegas,” she emphasized. “Can we please take a few minutes to rest?”

  “I’m afraid not.” He rejected her idea. “Trust me, you’ll rest all you like in my mansion. It’s got a Jacuzzi. Three of them, in fact.”

  “Alright,” she agreed with a nod. “Just let me put my car in the garage and we’ll be right with you.”

  The Don’s presence should have given me an ounce of joy. It showed that Donny still cared about my safety. He hadn’t forgotten about me and wanted to keep me out of harm’s way. Still, this kind of care lost its meaning when he decided I was too reckless to be with him. I wasn’t interested in it. That mobster could have fifteen Jacuzzi’s for all I cared. He could have a wardrobe full of designer clothes waiting for me, and I’d not give a rat’s ass about it. I had lost the key to Donny’s heart. Enjoying any kind of luxury sounded silly to me.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Donny

  “I’m not going anywhere. Just give me a rifle and our special something and let’s go to that meeting.”

  If I respected Bryan before his cousin’s death, I admired him that day. The man had balls the size of watermelons. He wouldn’t go home. He wouldn’t let tragedy deter him from providing a helping hand. Instead, he decided to be there for his buddies. How he would do that? I couldn’t tell, but I wasn’t worried. He was smart; maybe smarter than me and Joe. And after losing someone so close to him, he was fueled by something else, too: raw determination.

  Bryan had that feeling when he shot those two security guards during the money truck heist. Despite Joe’s objections, he didn’t hesitate. He dropped them both without much thought. More than ever, I needed that determination to guide him. Meeting with Dennis Howard on his own ground seemed like suicide. Three people were going to stand against the most powerful bastard in the State of Nevada. And boy, he was pissed.

  I had been scouring news articles for days, searching for evidence of someone daring to steal from him. It was incredible, but we were the only ones who had done that. Nobody in the State or in the whole country had attempted taking his money. The locals had been wise enough to keep their hands off his cash. Perhaps we wouldn’t have hit that armored truck had we known who he was and what he was capable of.

  All that was in the past, though. We couldn’t undo anything, the same way we couldn’t cower before him. Joe, Mitchell, and I would see him, even if it was the last thing we ever did on this Earth.

  Leaving the interstate behind us, we dropped off Bryan and continued on our way. The Mojave Desert looked as cold and inhospitable as it sounded. Big rock formations with razor-sharp peeks stood hundreds of feet above the ground, destroying the flatness of the land. Patches of dry grass were few and far between, large rocks looming over them. With the headlights of the Transit casting their light upon the dirt, a lizard quickly crept under a huge boulder beside the road. I could see a cloud of dust rising from the tires in the passenger mirror as we headed for our destination.

  Howard’s ranch filled my gaze, and I understood why he had chosen to own this property. It might have been half a mile from the interstate, but it was ideal for anything outside the law. The absence of any other buildings around it guaranteed privacy. There was nothing on either side of the road for hundreds and hundreds of yards. A tall rock formation a quarter of a mile west of the compound separated the area from the rest of the desert. Its three peaks were bathing in brilliant moonlight, their jagged edges a light shade of brown.

  I exhaled hard, the van rolling through the open gate of the fence. I stared at the last left bend, a mix of fear and adrenaline coursing through my veins. I noticed a truck outside the main building, three cab roof lights revealing four men with rifles around it, and someone else’s figure a few feet away. He was short; I doubted he was more than 5’7”, 5’8” tops. His white hair gave away his age, along with his identity.

  “Stay here, Mitchell,” Joe ordered the cop. “Get ready to haul ass if this thing goes sideways.”

  “Good luck,” Mitchell spoke as my friend and I jumped out into the cold of the night.

  “Joe Mancini and Donny Falcone…” Howard smirked, putting his hands together. “It’s an honor, gentlemen,” he added, giving sarcastic claps. “Where’s Genovese?”

  “On his way back to New York, to bury his cousin. That fucker shot him last night,” Joe pointed up to the second man to our left. “How do you know our names?”

  “Like I said to your friend, I know everything about you,” Howard stated, the smug look on his face tempting me to pounce. “You see, you made one mistake when you robbed my truck last summer. You showed your faces when you checked in to that motel in Dallas. Unlike most motels, the camera in the one you chose actually worked. I paid ten grand for that tape, but it was money well spent. After that, locating you wasn’t hard. My associates at LVPD did a very good job cross-referencing that footage with mug shots of known criminals. And believe it or not, I found out your hacker’s name from the paper. He graduated top of his class at NYU. The New York Times did his interview. That kid signed his death warrant the minute his picture was published.”

  “If it was that easy to find us, why did it take you six months to make your move?” Joe asked, clenching his jaw.

  “Because Raymond Barnett found out I was planning to retaliate,” Howard explained. “You wouldn’t know him. He owned three casino hotels in Las Vegas. He was against my plans from the get-go, because he thought war was bad for business. Barnett died three weeks ago, so, I was free to proceed. Enough talking,” he attempted a stiffer tone. “Where’s my money? I don’t see Mitchell, either.”

  “You think we’re stupid?” I groaned, narrowing my eyes down at him. “Why the fuck would we bring that money all the way to Vegas? To show it around?”

  “Mitchell’s in the van,” Joe declared. “Your money’s in New York. Have your men come with us, and we’ll give it to them.”

  “Cute,” Howard’s smirk reappeared. “My men will follow you to the East Coast, so Maltese’s men can ambush them. Did you just think of that?”

  I caught a flash out of the corner of my eye, just when I was ready for a comeback. In a moment, I saw a bright, yellow light, streaking through the dark, heading straight for Howard’s truck.

  “Down!” I shouted, dropping to the ground. I felt my chin hitting the cold dirt as a tremendous bang ripped through the wilderness. With the truck jerking forward, the fabric of its roof rocketed up into the sky. Its aluminum sides bowed and were catapulted across the property. Chunks of it flew over Joe’s body and towards the main building. They hit the concrete walls with a thud, pieces of burning fabric and shards of glass falling to the ground. Lying on my chest, I snuck a peek through splayed fingers. Two of Howard’s men lay on their backs, more than twenty feet away from the mangled truck. Neither of them was moving. Two others had been blown towards my spot. One of them was just to the left of Joe, while the other was just a foot from me, his rifle on my right. Howard himself was moaning in pain, with a large chunk of aluminum lodged in his left thigh. Blood had already begun to soak his gray pants, reaching past his knee.

  The same, agonizing whistle was torturing my ears as I rose to my knees and reached for the weapon. I recognized my enemy in a heartbeat. His blond hair and his stocky figure had been engraved in my memory since the night before. He was the one who shot Bryan’s cousin. His black jacket was covered in dirt. A large part of its right sleeve had been torn off, and the collar of his white shirt had been singed.

  “For Jimmy…” I whispered, shoving the tip of the barrel into his mouth. A squeeze of the trigger splattered his blood over the dirt behind his head. I stuck the rifle down for support and got back up, turning my gaze to Joe. He was standing over his own opponent, with his gun in his grasp. One bullet to the head and one to his heart put him out of his misery.

  Breathing in ga
sps, I was watching smoke ooze out of the barrel of Joe’s weapon, when I picked up the sound of hurried footsteps. I looked up, only to find Bryan hurtling past the burning truck. He didn’t even throw a glance our way. With the M4 strapped around his neck, he barreled towards the fallen gangster. At ten feet away, he shoved his hand into his front pocket. Then, Bryan fell to the deck and skidded over to Howard, his knees leaving trails on the ground.

  “That was my blood, you filthy fuck!” He growled, thrusting a picture of Jimmy forward. “You killed him! For what? Money? You’ve got billions, you piece of shit!” He went on, striding over our enemy’s stomach, facing his face.

  “Kid…” Howard wheezed. “Collateral damage.”

  Bryan didn’t speak. He gripped the barrel of his rifle and lifted it up and over his head. His eyes burning with rage, he tossed it away. Rolling his fingers into fists, he thrust his arm down. A powerful blow to Howard’s temple rocked his head back. A harder punch came. And another. And another. Combinations of rights and lefts shook the gangster’s head. Before long, the blood dribbling from his wounds was being splattered in sharp arcs across the soil and onto Bryan’s brown coat.

  I couldn’t recognize him. A calm man of few words had somehow transformed into a wild animal that was out for blood. He was getting it. He was getting lots of it, but no amount seemed good enough for him. But that’s what grief does to people. It makes them do unbelievable things, things out of their character. Bryan had lost his family. He had the chance to punish the man responsible for his loss, and he was taking full advantage of it.

  “He’s dead, man,” I raised my voice over the thumps of his punches. “He’s dead.”

  I walked over to him and put his hand on his shoulder. “Come on,” I uttered in a soothing tone.

  Bryan whipped his head and looked up at me. “Help me burn him.”

  I huffed in exasperation, knowing that this was unnecessary. Yet, I kept my opinion to myself. I wasn’t going to argue with him, no matter what he said or did. He was in a world of pain. He didn’t need a fight with someone he considered a friend. So, I grabbed Howard by the arms, while Bryan lifted him by the legs. In moments, I satisfied his request, dumping the body in the cab of the truck.

  In the shadow of the flames, my gaze met Joe’s, Mitchell striding towards him. There was no satisfaction in Joe’s eyes. They were reflecting the blaze behind me, filled with sadness. He stared at our creation in silence as I recalled the last time I had seen that grim expression on his face. It was his breakup with Michelle.

  “I can’t thank you guys enough for this,” the cop stated, watching the fire consume the truck.

  “Do me a favor and shut up,” I commanded, Bryan joining the rest of us.

  I didn’t have anything against him, but his timing sucked. We had gotten rid of our enemy. We had beaten him on his own turf, but Jimmy’s loss was still weighing down on us. Nothing would have been possible without him. He was the tech wizard that had allowed us to rob that truck in Texas. Most of all, he was part of our crew. He had earned this title, although he had never held a gun in his life. That kid wasn’t just Bryan’s family. He was our family. And he was gone.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Donny

  Home.

  The Manhattan skyline. Fifth Avenue, with hundreds and hundreds of people on either side of it and rows of cars in between. I liked that sight, although the whole thing was sometimes too loud. There was something familiar about it.

  This time though, it was like looking at an empty glass. It didn’t do anything for me. Why? Because my thoughts were still back in Las Vegas.

  The sound of Ava’s sobs was playing in a loop in my mind. She didn’t know about this, but I didn’t leave that motel right away. I stayed outside her room, wondering if I had made a mistake. I only left when I heard her calling me names, like “bastard” and “asshole.” This told me that she hadn’t really regretted her mistake. She was blaming me for everything. I couldn’t discuss this with her again, because it wouldn’t make any difference.

  Maltese’s mansion emerged from behind the uphill road, bringing me back to reality. Bryan and I were going to brief him on what had happened back in Vegas. I wished I could avoid that. It had been another endless drive, with plenty of mourning and pats on the back. Just being in the dead boy’s van for forty or so hours didn’t allow me to forget his fate. Even if I had, one of Bryan’s stories about him would make sure to remind me of his death.

  With a heavy heart, Bryan and I parked the Transit in the driveway. Strutting past the fountain in the front yard, we headed to the entrance. The old man was not going to have his butler get the door. He was standing just past his doorstep, his expression puzzling me. Peter Maltese didn’t smile a lot, and yet, he was wearing a huge smile.

  “Welcome back, boys,” he spoke, his next move fueling my surprise further. He offered his hand for a handshake. “Good job. I’ve been reading about it since this morning. I just can’t get enough of it.”

  “Thanks, boss.” I nodded and shook his hand, before Bryan did, too. “Bryan should get the credit for this. He fired the RPG that took out Howard’s truck and two of his men. Joe and I took care of the other two.”

  “Who killed Howard?” Our boss’s question forced me to keep my mouth shut.

  “That would be me,” Bryan uttered in a weak tone. “There was…” His voice thickened with emotion.

  “I’ll tell him,” I interrupted my friend, putting my hand on his wrist. “There was a price during the whole operation, boss. We lost Bryan’s cousin Jimmy in a shootout outside our informant’s house.”

  “Oh…” Maltese’s smile was wiped off his face. “I’m sorry, Genovese. I hope what I have to say to you will cheer you up.”

  “I doubt it, sir,” he shook his head in denial.

  “I fired the head of my security detail and one of my security guards yesterday,” Maltese announced, assuming a businesslike tone. “After the stunt you guys pulled in Vegas, I figured you two should do something more dignified than checking cargo at the docks and chasing gamblers. So? Are you up for the task?”

  “Thanks a lot for the honor, boss, but…” Bryan faltered and pressed his lips together. “No. I don’t want to do this anymore. I want out.”

  “Out?” Maltese’s brows popped up. “Son, did you hear what I just said? You’ll be part of my security detail. You won’t have to do any of the heavy lifting you used to do.”

  “I still want out, boss,” Bryan insisted, his tone steady. “I’ll keep my mouth shut about everything. You have my word.”

  “Take some time off to mourn your cousin,” Maltese ordered. “Then we’ll talk. How does that sound?”

  “It sounds good,” Bryan nodded in agreement. “Can I go home?”

  “Sure, go ahead,” Maltese accepted. “Falcone…” He shifted his attention to me. “Your girlfriend’s still here. She wanted to leave as soon as she learned the news about Vegas, but I insisted she stayed. I gave her some bullshit story about Howard’s people being in town.”

  “Yeah, and I was stupid enough to buy it,” I heard Ava’s voice from inside the house. “Thanks for the hospitality, Don,” she said, striding out.

  “Ava, wait!” I shouted, watching her pull away from me. Without wasting any time, I rushed off. “Wait!”

  “What is it, Donny?” She spun around and faced me, feet from the fountain. “You want to gloat because you killed some bigshot gangster? Well, find someone else! Leave me alone!”

  “I’m sorry about Vegas.” I made my voice sound sweeter. “I shouldn’t have come down so hard on you. Maybe I was too stressed about the mission; I don’t know.”

  “Came down hard on me?!” She exclaimed, thrusting her face forward. “You broke up with me, for God’s sake!”

  “Again, I’m sorry,” I spoke in a soft tone, looking down into her eyes. “I was…”

  “Don’t give me that ‘too stressed’ crap again,” she groaned, tucking a few tendrils
of her hair behind her ear. “You’re not a rookie. You’ve gone after all sorts of scum. Okay, I made a mistake, but you screwed up way more than I did.”

  “That’s true,” I admitted, keeping my cool. “Look, I acted like a total jerk. What can I do to make it up to you?”

  “Well, sweetening your voice isn’t going to cut it,” she continued, her tone a bit lower this time. “I’ll be waiting for you at the mansion tonight. Eight o’clock. You’d better impress the hell out of me.”

  Finishing her sentence, she strode off and went to the curb. I saw her signaling at a taxi as I came to a realization. Any words that came out of my mouth were not going to win her back. Ava was just too upset to be convinced by a pretty speech. I wasn’t too good at those anyway. I needed something more meaningful, and I was glad to have a few hours until our date. I just hoped that whatever I came up with would be worth her while.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Ava

  What did you just do?

  This thought flashed into my mind when I finally calmed down. Donny had just come back from a two-thousand-mile road trip where he lost someone close to him, and I treated him like dirt? My God… I wanted to smack myself across the head. I wanted to go call him and say how sorry I was for being such an inconsiderate bitch.

  But, every time I picked up my phone, I remembered what had led me to that outburst. It was my frustration, the nasty feeling I’d been swimming in since he broke up with me in that motel. Had we just stuck to an argument that night, none of this would have happened. He and I would have been together this entire time.

  Much to my disappointment, that feeling prevented me from expressing myself when I saw him in Maltese’s front yard. I was up in my bedroom, looking out my window. I ran down the stairs and was desperate to get out and hug him, but, at the last minute, I had a change of heart. By then, the Don was commending Donny and Bryan for the outcome of their mission. Interrupting that moment just didn’t feel right.