by S. W. Frank
Manny, Evangeline, Madeline and Nico’s sons were all there. Not surprisingly, Evangeline is the chica with the joint to her lips. Her hand fell to her side, but there was nowhere to hide it. Somehow she avoided burning her exposed leg.
The group stood there mumbling phony crap. They congratulated him on his nuptials, said how nice he looked, Madeline even had the audacity to tell him she liked the wedding and similar bull-shit.
Alfonzo glared at the teens and stood directly in front of the ringleader and stared Evangeline down. He raised her hand and removed the unfinished smoke. “I’ll take that.” He said and then issued a warning, “Go inside and behave. Any of you disrupt my reception and I’ll beat your asses, comprende?”
They scattered, glad to get away with only a verbal whipping.
Alfonzo smirked and waited until they were out of sight and took a long drag of the weed. One eye closed and with pursed lips he sucked in more. Man, the teenagers had the good stuff. He let the herb fill his lungs and exhaled, blowing residual smoke to the sky. Salsa music filtered outdoors. The band was jamming. He did the cha-cha up the walkway, rolling his shoulders to the music and then took another hit before flicking the clip away. “Ah shit, they’re playing my joint!” He exclaimed and added an extra kick as he danced to the tent.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Sergio held the ice to his eyes and grimaced at the pain. Thank goodness his Uncle Nico came when he did, although, he was surprised to see him. He assumed Nico died in the car accident along with the kids. His lip felt huge when he opened his mouth to offer his condolences and received another shocker in return.
“The boys are fine Sergio. The police messed up on the ID’s.” Nico lied.
“For real?”
Nico put the youth on track and went straight to the point, “Why are you here?”
“If I’d known you were alive, I’d sought you out instead of Alfonzo.”
“The money I gave you, is it all gone?”
Sergio moved the ice to his busted mouth and squint, “Um-hum. I used it to pay down some debts, but I have a problem with this guy. He’s threatening to hurt my sister if I don’t pay him the money I borrowed.”
“I thought you said you paid off your debts.”
“Some,” Sergio answered as he moved the ice-pack to the other side, “I didn’t get around to that one yet.”
“How much?”
“Two hundred grand,” Sergio answered. He put another fifty on the top for his pockets. A dude had to make ends meet.
Nico’s mouth descended at the edges. His frown indicated he didn’t like what he heard, nor was he buying everything Sergio said. “What’s the guy’s name?”
Ah, man! “He’s nothing but a small time loan-shark.”
“The name.”
Sergio sighed, “Chip.”
“Where can I find him?”
“He has a hole in Brooklyn.”
“How long were you given to pay it back?”
“Not long.”
Nico crossed his leg and took a cigar from his pocket for a leisure smoke just like his dad. He’d grown accustomed to the taste of the imported Cohiba Behike. Alberti had cartons of the finest cigars in the world and this Cuban brand topped the list. He had to digest this information from his nephew for a minute. If he had to handle this mess with Sergio, he’d have to leave a pregnant Ari and the boys with Bianca. He didn’t want them in Eritrea, it was too far away. At least she’d be in Palermo with family if anything went wrong. He blew a smoke ring, “Have you eaten, kid?”
Sergio sat up a bit, “Nah.”
“Lou can you have somebody bring down a plate.”
Lou nodded and exited through the door. He’d send a waiter with the food. He was happy to return to the celebration.
Nico’s eyes narrowed when the door clicked shut. He had more words for the youth. “I heard you mouthed off at Giuseppe.”
“The motherfucker’s a goddamn psycho!” Sergio exclaimed and then winced when spit got into his cut. “Ow.”
“Did the ass-kicking give you a newfound respect?”
“For him, nah fuck that.”
Nico took a healthy puff. Sergio was another street punk. A big-mouth kid with zero tact. Nico made another smoke circle and watched it dissolve slowly into the ventilated air. “There’s something you need to understand Sergio. I may be your uncle by blood but Giuseppe and I are family. You’re to give him respect and never talk about him in that way. If I hear another disparaging comment out of your mouth about my family, I’ll personally put a bullet in your head, capisce?”
Was the entire family crazy, Sergio wondered?
He nodded because something told him if he didn’t Nico might really put a cap in his ass! “Yeah, I understand.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Giuseppe cracked his knuckles during the short flight from Puerto Rico to the Dominican Republic. He might have cracked a smile at how clever Shanda was if he wasn’t so damn mad. There were people searching the globe for the woman and she was right under their noses. Puerto Plata was forty-five minutes tops by air from Bayamón. Most likely she took the ferry to the island to avoid detection, which he had to admit, was a damn smart move.
“Stronzo!” He scowled aloud when he exited the plane and saw Tolo waiting at the edge of the air strip beside a tiny Fiat. “He could not do better than that?” Giuseppe muttered as the double bodyguards dogged his steps. They were very big men and the car would be like sitting in a box with elephants.
His shoes crunched the blacktop with each angry step. When he towered alongside the car he gestured at it, “What the fuck is this Tolo?”
“This is the only rental available Don Dichenzo.”
“What about car dealerships, did you consider those?”
“No.”
Giuseppe grumbled and bowed his head to enter the small automobile, “Of course you did not. That would require abstract thinking. Let us go!”
****
Shanda’s dream consisted of angry barks. They were the ferocious kind from a small dog in peril or sought to ward off danger. When the sounds abruptly stopped she smiled, thankful for the reprieve. But, the dream changed when her brain sparked to wakefulness because she recognized the canine warnings belonged to Gee. She slowly sat upright and in the darkness heard breathing. The human kind.
“You wake,” an accented voice said from a darkened corner.
She flicked on the lamp to shine light on the living-room to find Giuseppe sitting on her brand spanking new loveseat holding Gee. Clad in a black tux and clean-shaven, she barely recognized him. He stroked the dog and she screwed up her face at Gee’s disloyalty. “Little traitor.”
Giuseppe craned his head to look around the room, “Very nice.”
Shanda rested an elbow on the arm of the sofa, “Thank you. There’s no point in asking how you got in and made yourself at home. I guess breaking and entering is normal behavior for you.”
“I broke nothing to enter.” He retort with a hissing as he tried not to explode and tear down her
house.
“Thanks for not breaking anything,” Shanda remarked with sarcasm.
The attractive blue eyes raked her over. “What have you been up to these past few months?”
“Oh, I don’t know Giuseppe, a little this a little that.”
“I notice you have grown fat from the little this and that’s.”
Shanda scoffed, “It’s what occurs when a woman is pregnant.”
“Are you certain you are pregnant and not concealing a large meatball in your belly?”
She stood, “Talk of food, I’m hungry.”
He put the puppy on the floor and stood. He walked around the room to shed the violent rumblings taking place in his head. He fingered the knick-knacks on the end tables. She liked crystal angels and African statues, interesting. He flicked the little angel over and it rolled and then hit the floor. Shanda pretended she did not hear the noise and continued what she was doing which infuriated him more. He stopped at the mantle to examine the pictures lined there. There were photos of Shanda and her precious dog, yet none of family. He wondered how long she thought she could continue this charade without being found out.
The world she created was a solitary life. It was not for a vibrant woman from Brooklyn. There was a lot about Shanda he did not know. She was a curiosity and a mystery he sought to uncover.
Giuseppe strolled to the kitchen to observe the girl, just as he did when she slept. He restrained himself from slapping her exposed ass or dragging her from the house and to the plane. She deserved a firm hand, but seeing the size of her belly, he calmed. He could not risk hurting the mother; doing so would endanger his child.
When Shanda had awakened, he expected her to bolt for the door, but she did not. She wouldn’t have escaped far anyway, because a man was stationed out front and another guarded the rear door. He sent Tolo away to return the car when he saw the luxury vehicle parked in her driveway. Shanda’s car was what they’d use to reach the airstrip in the morning. Yes, he was taking her out of this world of pretense, she just didn’t know it.
He practiced restraint and it choked him. Yet, he swore to his brother not to break her neck and what a lovely neck it was. He leaned on the counter and crossed his arms as she busied herself like he wasn’t there.
Giuseppe squinted when she placed two plates and utensils on the counter like an Italian mother hen.
“Would you like a slice of pie, I baked?”
This surprised him. “You bake?”
“I do.”
She cut him a piece and he gladly dug in to sample the woman’s dessert. He enjoyed good food and being fed. He liked her pie. It was actually delicious and almost as good as his mother’s. “Buono.”
She smiled as he ate and they sat briefly in silence in an unspoken truce until the food was consumed.
Giuseppe finished first and her eyes widened when his fork hovered over her saucer and she slapped it away, “Hey!”
He took her portion and ate it, anyway. She had yet to learn he took what he wanted which included pies. He wiped his mouth on the dishtowel and tossed his fork in the empty plate. “Are you carrying my bambino?”
“You know I am. Why else would you be here?”
The eyes flashed, “And you know this for certain?”
“Yes, Giuseppe. I’m not a slut. I know who I fuck and when.”
“Then we have a dilemma.”
“We do?”
“Sí. You will come to my home until the child is born and the matter of paternity is settled.”
Shanda scoffed, “Wishful thinking.”
He leaned in and violated her personal space with an intimidating glare, “When you fled from me, you sealed your fate, donna. I will not let you out of my sight again.”
She pulled the pie in front of her and stabbed at it with her fork. Now, Giuseppe had her pissed. The verbal games were finished and she had to set him straight on a few things. “First of all I didn’t flee from you.” She pointed the fork at his face. “Secondly, how dare you think you can tell me what to do? I remember you gave me money and said ciao like I was a dollar store whore. Don’t confuse me with your bitches Giuseppe; I don’t take orders from you!”
He seized her wrist and took the fork. He didn’t like the sharp prongs pointing in his direction. “Be careful donna. I have chopped off fingers for less.”
Shanda rolled her eyes. Seriously, the scary mobster routine played out. “Look, we can compromise. To put your mind at ease we’ll do a paternity test when the baby’s born, but I’m staying here. I’m not going anywhere.”
“You cannot stay here alone.” He exhaled. “I will not debate with you.” Then he pushed away from the counter to get a beverage from the fridge. Water, juice and more water and not a single beer were there. He snatched a bottle of water and consumed every ounce. He needed something to cool his temper before he spanked her ass. He had yet to beat a woman, but he could punish her in other ways.
Giuseppe tossed the bottle in the garbage and something she mentioned produced a long pause before he asked. “If you did not run from me, who did you run from?”
Giuseppe interrogated enough people to distinguish concealment from a lie. Shanda hid, and if not from him, then who? When she did not answer immediately his patience evaporated. He slammed his fist on the counter, “Speak ora!”
Shanda failed to flinch. Giuseppe could yell at the top of his lungs, as long as he didn’t put a hand on her, he could shout until the cows came home.
Anyway, Selange must have already received the letter and Giuseppe was bound to find out why she split. “I planned to tell you the day I flew in about the pregnancy. I spoke with Selange and she said you would be visiting. But, before I got on the plane I had unexpected visitors,” she omitted her father was among them, “the feds.”
“What?”
“Yes. The feds Giuseppe. I cut-out because they knew where I was going and they wanted me to wear a wire. They said Selange was in danger by being with Alfonzo. They told me to think about what would happen to her and the children and crap like that. They thought I bought their bull-shit but I didn’t. I met Selange at the airport to say good-bye because I knew if I went to that house and you were there and they spied us talking they’d ask questions and try to use me to try to put you guys in jail.” She sighed, “Leaving Selange and those kids was the hardest thing I did in my life, but nobody is going to make me to hurt her. I’ll die before that happens. When I spotted the agents at the airport I ditched their dumb-asses right there and came here!”
Shock turned to anger and a string of obscenities flowed from Giuseppe’s mouth. He paced back and forth running his fingers through his glossy black hair, considering whether to phone his brother or not. Aye, the man was leaving on his honeymoon and it made no sense to tell him now. The feds were always watching and the information wasn’t new, but to hear they sought to use Shanda to infiltrate Alfonzo’s home was a surprise development. What else would they do?
The daughter of the polizei had become more than the potential mother of his son, she had become a pawn. No wonder she ran. Her actions were a sign of loyalty. She chose a side and he would protect her, no matter the outcome of the paternity test.
He would take her to Palermo. The American government had zero jurisdiction in his home. She was not considered a fugitive; an uncooperative pawn is more fitting. He decided, Shanda Johnson, unlike Roberto, or Geovonna acted to protect the family. Her motives were selfless and she gained his respect.
His shoulders protruded like boulders from the tux as he marched to her side and peered at the pregnant woman whose belly may or may not be filled with his child. “Donna. You should have told me this. My brother and I would have protected you and saved you from this isolation.”
“Who’s your brother?”
“Alfonzo.”
“I thought you were cousins.”
He scoffed, “We are brothers donna, not cousins.”
“It’s Shanda, not Donna, remember?”
She said with a mouth full of pie. “I know you probably fuck a lot of women and can’t remember their names but come on, at least try.”
Giuseppe smirked. Did she plan to save him any of the delicious dessert? “Donna in Italian means woman. I will give you time to pack and tomorrow we leave.”
“I didn’t agree to go anywhere with you.”
“Shanda, I am not a democratic man. I often dictate.”
“And I have yet to live under a dictatorship, so I guess you’re in the wrong country.”
Her brazen words were not offensive. Perhaps it’s because he saw a kindred spirit beneath the rough. He changed his approach as Alfonzo suggested to see if diplomacy really worked. “Here, you are alone. Many things can happen. The feds may locate you or perhaps arrest you for a fabricated offense. Under my protection you will not have to worry and will receive the pampering an expectant mother deserves. Will you agree to this?”
Shanda thought about his statement. Hell yes, she could use some pampering and she had worried about her father finding her. She might change her mind if he gave her some assurances. “If I go, will you promise not to pull any macho crap when I get to your country?”
“Huh, what do you mean?”
“I’m talking about holding me prisoner or stealing my child and then I‘ll have to involve the embassy and fight you for custody, shit like that!”
Giuseppe snickered. “You watch too much television or read insane things. I am not crazy or stupid. I have no reason to kidnap women. It’s lunacy and a serious crime. No woman is ever imprisoned in my home; in fact, I must force them to leave. The child on the other-hand is a matter best discussed when he is born, if indeed I am the father.”
“Wow you are one arrogant SOB –and will you stop calling my dog and this baby he.”
“I am a man; I tend to use masculine forms of speech.”
She shook her head, “Whatever. Okay, I’ll agree to a trial stay at your non-prison where the women are forced to leave, but the minute you renege on anything you promised, I’m out the door and you better not try to stop me, got it?”