by Kelly Wood
Michael shrugged his shoulder. “Like I said, insurance.” Costa frowned and picked a piece of lint off his pantleg. “Right now, the work is being finished on the basement room. I removed your body before Franky had the chance. I will let him think I know he killed you. It gives me the leverage I need to control him.” Costa waved his finger in the air. “And, I can bring you back if Frank ever forgets his place.”
“I get it. I’d boot Frank out and take back control of the Bianchi family. Only in appearance, though. You’d be pulling the strings. What happened to your fifty-fifty agreement?”
“Every good boss maintains control. You,” Costa pointed at Guy, “give me control over Franky.”
“Why can’t I take Gracie?”
“Frank would know you weren’t really dead.” Costa turned contemplative again. Guy expected a comment about Costa’s kids. What he got instead shocked him. “I thought about leaving the family once. I was a little younger than you are now. I didn’t have the guts. This is the only life I have ever known,” Costa said.
“Why don’t you leave now?”
Costa harrumphed. “Too late now. Can’t go back.”
“I don’t want Gracie hurt,” Guy said.
“Wise choice.”
“I have conditions.”
“You don’t have much power to be demanding anything,” Costa pointed out.
“You want me gone with Gracie here. That gives me enough power. I’ll stay gone. For her. To guarantee her safety. I won’t make any deals. I won’t cause any problems. As long as she is safe.”
“I could just kill you.”
“If you wanted that, you would’ve done me in already.” Guy held Costa’s gaze, showing more confidence than he felt. “It doesn’t hurt to at least hear what I want in return.” Costa nodded, so Guy proceeded. “Frank is never to marry Gracie. Ever. Under any circumstances.”
Guy had Costa’s attention with the first demand. Guy knew Costa would marry Franky and Gracie as quickly as he could talk Gracie into it. To strengthen the family.
“You don’t need them married to have control over Franky,” Guy pointed out.
“True. Next?” Costa asked.
“Weekly updates with photographs when you can. I want to know every detail of their lives.” Costa nodded. “And lastly, I get to come back. When the time is right, I get to come back and get my revenge on Frank.”
Chapter Thirty-Seven
“No.”
“Regan, you’ve got to blend in,” Passion pleaded.
“That’s dental floss, not a dress,” I said, pointing at the offending garment.
Passion grabbed my arm and pulled me close to her. “You are putting this on or I am sending you back to your seat. No one will question you if they think you are just one of us.”
I dragged the outfit to the dressing room. I may have lost the battle of wearing the thing, but I refused to change in front of a bunch of strangers. I pinched and squeezed and shoved my way in. By the end, I looked like a fist squeezing silly putty between the fingers. There was no way I would be fooling anyone.
Passion took one look at me and laughed. She began tugging and molding my body to fit into the suit. It was actually very modest but gave the impression of nudity. From my neck to my ankles, my skin was covered in a thick flesh-colored nylon. Over the nylon, a silver, sequined bikini adorned my body.
“This thing is too small,” I said.
“I got the biggest one we had.”
“Thanks.” I infused as much sarcasm as I could into the one word. “You’d have to have two percent body fat to pull this thing off.”
“Don’t exaggerate. I have like eight.” I gaped at her as she snapped the suit into place. Eight whole percent of body fat? What a cow.
“There.” Passion stood back to admire her work. I looked in the full-length mirror next to her. While I still looked too large for the outfit, I looked better than I did. At least my mushy parts weren’t sticking out anymore.
“I guess this will do.”
“You look great. Put this on while I attach your tail.”
I held the hat to my head. The skull cap fit snugly across my brain. Now every part of me was being squeezed. Passion walked around my backside while she attached the other part. I sighed in relief that my exposed dairy-air would be covered. My ‘tail’ actually spread out a foot on either side of me. The frame was covered in sequins and feathers and matched the hat shooting straight up off my head.
“All you have to do is stand on the edge of the stage behind the curtain. You’ll be able to see me the whole time,” Passion said as she handed me a pair of strappy four-inch spiked heels.
“Got it, and no.” I pointed to the shoes. I bent down and retrieved my ballet flats. Passion tossed the heels back into a pile, giving up on making me wear them.
“Regan, you are only to interrupt if there is real danger.” Passion waved her finger in my face imploring the seriousness of her words.
“I got it. Real danger.” I didn’t point out to Passion that our versions of ‘real danger’ may vary. I knew I would stop the show way before she’d actually want it stopped.
I stood back while the dancers organized themselves. I peeked around the edge of the curtain. My parents and Gray sat in the third row. Gray’s parents and Gracie sat one row ahead of them. Thankful I had all of them in my line of sight, I locked in on their positions in case I lost them when the lights dimmed.
“Places, everyone.” A dark-skinned man carrying a clipboard repeated the two words at he worked his way around the stage. I was pushed aside as dancers ran onto the stage. My feathers caught on everything around me. I batted them back down with my hands.
The lights dimmed and the curtain was raised. Dancers whirled and kicked around the stage. I looked around the curtain again. Gray’s eyes scanned the stage, but quickly came back to rest on me. I wasn’t quite as hidden as I’d thought. I eased back a little but continued to watch the audience and the girls, especially Passion.
Silk scarves fell from the sky. Four dancers leapt and grabbed the material. I held my breath as Passion twisted her body while being raised above the other dancers. She used her feet and hands and head to wrap the silk, twisting the material around her as she held different positions in the air.
I scanned the room again. Movement caught the corner of my eye. Michael stood up and walked back up the aisle. He buttoned his coat as he went. Gray quietly exited his seat as well, following Michael. Both of them disappeared through the entrance doors.
My problem was there were too many possibilities, too many likely suspects who’d want to hurt Frank. That was the life of the mob, I guess. I thought we’d narrowed it down to two, Gracie and his parents, but when I thought about it, Gray and I never found out what happened to Milano’s crew. Maybe it was even one of them? Or two?
Two people together would be able to pull this off. Like a tag team. You don’t have one suspect, now you want two? I thought to myself. I mentally slapped myself to pay attention.
Passion continued to twist and fall and climb again on her silk scarves. I shouldn’t call them scarves, they were fifty feet long and four feet wide. Passion wrapped her feet around each one, did the splits and hung upside down while spinning in a slow circle. Her face was frozen in a tense smile. I prayed she knew what she was doing. If she miscalculated and fell, she’d crack her head open.
My eyes followed the silk to the top. Above the stage, a series of catwalks crisscrossed allowing access to lights and equipment. I slowed down and scanned for any movement. The bright lights of the stage offered a little illumination for me to see up there.
A reflection caught my eye. Crouched directly above Passion was a man. He was dressed in all black, but he’d neglected to cover his head. The reflection of the lights on his bald skull gave me the only clue he was up there. I squinted my eyes and looked closer. Light glinted off his knife as he worked it against one of Passion’s silks. With all the moving she was doing, she�
��d never feel the tug of the knife through the material. Something may feel off to her but she wouldn’t know what.
Passion was still spinning upside down. If baldy managed to slice completely through one of her silks, either she would plummet down or her other foot would get caught, catching her, but possibly injuring her in the process. I couldn’t take that chance. This qualified as real danger.
I didn’t think, I just moved. I put my hands on my waist and kicked my legs like a Rockette. Sadly, my kicks barely cleared my knees. I wouldn’t fool anyone. I twirled and kicked my way past the other dancers. They were all professionals so they never stopped moving, but they shot weird looks my way, clearly knowing something was not right. I looked over my shoulder for a security guard, hoping one was chasing me. No such luck.
I stopped my act under Passion and yelled up to her, “You get down right this minute, young lady! There’s real danger.”
I pointed up above her head. Passion reached out both hands and grabbed each silk. I shook the uncut one. “Grab this one! The other one’s going to rip.”
As I said the words, Passion’s left foot dropped about six inches, her weight pulling down on the weakened silk. Fear crossed her face and she gave out a little yip of shock. She scrambled to grab onto the good side. The other dancers gave up all pretense of a show at this point, standing in a wide arc around us. Audience members stood and pointed toward the stage. The murmur of the crowd grew.
Someone shoved me out of the way. I fell to the stage. The tail of the suit absorbed the impact from my tailbone. My dad stood under Passion with his arms held out, ready to catch her in a basket carry. I stood up, rubbed my rear end and looked around the crowd for Gray. I realized he’d never returned after following his father out of the theater.
“Jump, baby. I’ll catch you!” Dad yelled.
“Passion!” Frank’s voice bellowed above everyone’s murmurs as he bounded to the stage. Frank’s voice cracked from fear and worry. I realized it took him awhile because he was sitting in a box seat in the back while my family was up close. The run down the stairs and up the aisle must’ve felt like an eternity to him.
A round of ‘ahh’s went up from the dancers. The dancers stood in a circle around us. Some had their hands over their mouths, while others covered their hearts. Frank and my dad jockeyed for position to be the hero. Both men were close in age and scrappy. They were close in height. Both men were good-looking and got second glances from the dancers. I didn’t think Passion realized just how similar dad and Frank were. When she did, she may rethink her whole relationship.
Passion untwisted her foot in the damaged silk and swung it over. With one foot straight up in the air next to her head, she slowly slid down the silk. A thunderous applause could be heard from the audience and the stage.
“Thanks, but I got this.” Passion winked at everyone. To the end, she was the ultimate showgirl.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
I looked again to the catwalks. The bald man leaned over the railing looking down on us. His eyes locked with mine. He dragged his finger across his throat in a cutting motion and then pointed to me. I stuck my tongue out in response. I knew it was juvenile, but it was all I had.
I hit Frank with my hand and pointed up. Frank’s eyes followed my finger. Frank inhaled sharply and stumbled back a few steps. I ran behind the stage looking for the stairway leading up to the catwalks. My feather tail snagged on wires and cables. My hat slid askew, its feather plume sticking out at an odd angle.
I found the stairs and barreled up them, but the tail caught again. I took a step back and pushed my way through, shredding the feathers on the metal railings. I bounded up. The metal pattern in the stairs dug into my feet through my ballet flats, but I kept going.
I crested the top and came face to face with the culprit. He crouched down facing me, a knife in his hands. He wore a black turtleneck and black slacks. His muscles bulged through the fabric of his clothes.
“Regan Harris. Or, is it Thomas now?” he asked.
“I’m at loss. I don’t know who you are,” I said coolly. I stood with my hand on my hip giving him all the attitude I had.
“I thought you’d figure it out. I’m disappointed.”
“You’ve had work done, Guy.” I mentally adjusted the photograph Gray altered. Guy had his nose straightened and his chin squared. And, after hours in the gym, he had broadened his physique. I hadn’t factored that in when Gray and I aged the photo on the computer.
Guy Bianchi stood up and clapped his gloved hands together slowly. Sweat ran down my back as I debated what to do next. Once again, I ran straight into a dangerous situation without thinking through a plan. I had no way to stop him. I wasn’t armed. I definitely wasn’t dangerous. I wasn’t even clothed properly. I looked around me for a weapon but saw none. Guy took a step in my direction.
“Job well done.”
“Thanks. I think,” I said.
Guy turned the knife so the light caught it. Even a dull blade would hurt to be stabbed with. I took a step back, but the tail caught again on the railing. Feathers rained down to the stage. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see the other dancers all looking up at the drama unfolding. Even after the excitement, the dancers still looked beautiful and flawless. I resembled a very sad peacock. I tried to straighten the hat.
“You’re going to come with me,” Guy said.
I hesitated in answering, hoping to give Gray enough time to get to me. I knew he’d come. Eventually. I hoped the noise of the crowd drew him back to the stage. With the dancers standing around, he’d know something was amiss and come looking for me.
“I’m going to pass. Thanks, though.” I tried to back away further. The feathers still pulled against the railing.
Guy pulled a gun out with his left hand and aimed it at me. My heart stopped beating.
“You brought a gun to your own knife fight?” I asked, nervous laughter escaping me. Guy sheathed the knife instead of answering.
Someone moved in the doorway behind Guy. I tried to keep a straight face, but I smiled when I saw Gray sneaking up on him. He was even faster than I had hoped.
“I’m actually on my honeymoon,” I said, hoping to distract him. I kept my eyes trained on his, afraid if I looked at Gray again, Guy would notice. “Why Passion?” I asked even though I thought I knew the answer.
“For fun. I really want you. It’s their turn to wonder where a family member is. If she’s coming back.”
“It’s been thirty years. Let it go.”
“Revenge—”
“—is a dish best served cold. How cliché. I expected more,” I said, waving my hand at him.
“Excuse me?”
I kept talking so his eyes would stay on me. Gray inched along but was still two feet away from Guy. “Seriously. Have you been locked in a basement? Tied to a chair? You’re an adult. You should’ve just come home if you wanted to.” One more foot to go.
“Guy!” Gracie yelled his name from the stage. Guy turned and looked over the side. His face softened when he spotted her. His hand reached down as if he could actually touch her from here.
Gray swung his arm trying to catch Guy in a chokehold. Guy ducked down, twirled around, and brought his fist up into Gray’s stomach. The air whooshed out of Gray. I cringed at the blow. Gray stumbled back a step. The knife hissed as it was pulled from its cover. Guy held it in front of him and lunged toward Gray. My world stopped.
The knife plunged into Gray’s side. Bright red blossomed across his white shirt. I screamed, covering my mouth with my hands. Guy pulled the knife out of Gray’s body and stabbed again. The gun was still in his left hand. He fought Gray one-handed, ducking and bobbing between blows. Gray continued to engage Guy, but he was clearly weakening. His movements weren’t as fluid. The punches he landed weren’t as solid. The sound of knuckles hitting flesh made my stomach roll when Guy connected with Gray’s chin. Gray’s head snapped back.
The catwalk swayed under us. I held o
nto the railings and braced myself. The movement startled Guy. He reached out for the railing, giving Gray a moment to recover from the hit. But Guy didn’t stop once he got ahold of the railing. He shook the walkaway back and forth. I held on even tighter. Gray lost his footing and slipped. His body tilted over the side.
I lunged forward trying to grab him even though Guy stood between us. Guy grabbed Gray’s arm and pulled him back up before he could tumble over the side. Guy spun Gray, wrapping his arm around Gray’s neck. The barrel of the gun pressed firmly against his temple.
Guy inched backwards with Gray. Both were tall, but Gray had to hunch down slightly to accommodate Guy’s arm restraining him. Doors burst open around us. Frank, Gracie and Michael poured through and took in the scene.
“This wasn’t part of the plan, Guy,” Michael said
“Stay out of it, Costa. This was my plan all along.”
“You helped Guy run away?” I asked. I was taking a stab in the dark, trying to piece the rest of it together.
“Forced is more like it. He,” Guy pointed to Frank, “left me for dead. Costa here fixed me up and sent me on my way.”
“But why? Why stay gone?” I asked.
“To keep Gracie and the baby safe. Costa would’ve killed them if I tried to return,” Guy said.
“That’s why you can see Gracie’s house from yours. So, you could watch her?” I asked Michael.
Michael refused to answer my question. Instead, he stared at Guy with hatred. Pure hatred. He may have been aware of Guy’s return and his pranks on the hotel, but holding his son hostage clearly crossed a line. I took a step back, trying to put as much distance between Michael and myself.
“Just let Gray go. He wasn’t even born yet when all of this happened. Please,” I said. Gracie kept quiet but watched the scene unfold before her. Silent tears rolled down her face. Frank’s face was drained of all color. He looked like he was staring at a ghost. Based on what Guy said, Frank truly believed him to be dead all these years.
“Gray’s my insurance. We’re leaving.”