A Bookie's Odds (21 page)

“I need you to move it. Now.”

He felt a nudge in his shoulder. Instinctively, he spun around, grabbed the front of the other man’s shirt, and stepped forward until he had the person pinned against the wall across from the closet.

“I said, give me a second.”

“Nicholas, stop it,” Georgia screamed at the same moment his father called out, “Let him go.”

Her soft hand covered his. “Nicholas, please. Celeste needs you.”

He blinked several times before he could actually focus on the person he was attacking. The blood had drained from the young officer’s face.

“Let him go,” his father repeated.

Nicholas slowly uncurled his fingers from the shirt of the officer. Once free, the man was pulled to the side and ushered away.

“Pull yourself together,” his father ordered. “Then take care of business.”

The older man draped an arm around Georgia’s shoulders and steered her away from him. Nicholas was tempted to follow and grab her. He wanted…no, he needed…her presence. But, at the same time, he did not deserve it. He had failed Celeste and Georgia and did not deserve comfort until he made things right.

Without a word, Nicholas turned and marched out the door. He climbed into his car and headed to Gracie’s. Again, when he arrived at his destination he left his car in the middle of the street.

Another car, one he had not realized had been tailing him, also stopped. Two men climbed out and followed him.

At the front door, the goon stepped toward him. Nicholas did not slow down. Without turning, he knew one of the men pulled back his jacket to let the gun at his side convince the man to let them pass unmolested.

Nicholas stepped into the dining room. Gianni, who was perched on a stool, leaned over the bar. After a second, he raised his head and sniffed before he passed a rolled up bill to Alice. With a smile the woman placed the bill to her nose and leaned forward.

Without a word, Nicholas walked up to the other man, grabbed him by his hair and slammed his head on the bar.

Alice screeched, and Gianni yelled, “What the hell?” as he raised his head. Blood dripped from his nose onto the white powder on the bar.

“You shouldn’t have touched her,” Nicholas announced as he slammed his former friend’s face back onto the bar. He glanced over his shoulder at the wide-eyed woman behind him. “Business is closed.”

Alice stepped back until she was clear of the men, then turned and scampered toward the front door.

The shrill of car horns and the grumbles from irate drivers drifted into the building. Nicholas ignored the commotion from the street as he yanked Gianni from the stool. He was going to give the other man just as much of a fighting chance as Celeste had been given…none.

Holding onto the front of Gianni’s shirt, he slammed his fist into the other man’s face. He did not count the number of blows he administered or keep track of how much time went by. He simply continued until the knuckles on his right hand were red with both his and the other man’s blood.

Once his fist was raw, Nicholas switched hands and resumed the punishment. He pummeled what was left of Gianni’s face until two sets of hands grabbed him and his former friend slipped from his bloody grip to the floor.

Nicholas struggled to get free of the men who had followed him into the club. Though Gianni was unconscious, he had not suffered enough, but the men refused to release their hold.

“Your job is done,” one of the men holding him announced.

Nicholas stopped struggling. As he tried to catch his breath, he glanced around at the four men who had joined them while he took care of Gianni.

“Your father called us. He wants you to return to the hospital. We’ll take care of him.”

Though his sister’s abuser lay in a heap on the floor, Nicholas did not feel satisfaction. He wanted to finish what he started, but his father would never let him do it.

After a minute, the men relaxed their hold enough for him to pull out of their grasp. For once he would respect his father’s wishes.

“Take him,” he said. “Quick, before I change my mind.”

The two men who had pulled him off each reached for one of Gianni’s arms and dragged him out of the club.

After the door closed behind them, Nicholas glanced around the room that had been converted to a dump no respectable person would step foot in. His sister was lying in the hospital. His father’s dreams had been destroyed. And it was all because Nicholas had been too stubborn to see the truth.

****

Georgia could not believe her ears. After everything Celeste had gone through, she had the nerve to apologize for all the trouble she caused? If anything, the universe needed to apologize for everything she’d had to deal with…starting with the mark she had been born with.

The universe should then beg her forgiveness for taking away the mother who would have assured her there was someone out there who’d care for her. With that assurance, she would not have settled for a bastard who convinced her he was her only shot at happiness.

Finally, the universe also needed to apologize for placing the bastard who was responsible for her lying in the hospital on the same planet as her.

Georgia swallowed the lump in her throat. Life was unfair. All Celeste ever wanted was to find someone to love her and father her children. Instead, she got someone who did not deserve an eighth of the happiness the woman had to give.

“They have to go now.” Nonna Sophie laid a gentle hand on Georgia’s arm.

She nodded before she leaned over her friend’s bed. She placed a kiss on Celeste’s brow.

“I’ll be here when you get out of surgery,” she whispered.

She stepped back and allowed the older woman to wish her granddaughter well. They watched as the orderly and the nurse wheeled Celeste to the operating room to take care of the unborn child who had not survived the beating.

Georgia led the woman to the waiting room, where Mr. Santiano sat. He leaned forward with his elbows resting on his knees and his shoulders drooping.

“She’s a strong girl.” Nonna Sophie sat next to her son and hugged his shoulders. “She’ll get through this.”

“She’s never hurt anyone,” he said. “Why does she have to suffer?”

“We can never know why things happen the way they do. We can only accept that both good and bad things happen.”

The older man shook his head. “I can’t accept it.”

“What happened?”

Georgia glanced toward the door. Dread filled Nicholas’s eyes. She stood and walked over to him. Without a word, he followed her out of the room.

“Is she…”

Georgia shook her head. “No, they just wheeled her to surgery. Celeste was pregnant, and she lost the baby.”

Nicholas tensed. “When she gets out, tell her she’s a widow.”

Georgia had no doubt Gianni was not among the living. After Mr. Santiano had saved the officer from Nicholas’s rage, he’d made a few telephone calls. She knew he would want revenge for his daughter, but there was only so much blood he’d allow on his son’s hands. The appropriate associates would have been dispatched to assure Gianni would never raise his hand to someone else again.

However, assuring Gianni no longer breathed was not good enough for her.

“Did he suffer?” she asked.

****

Nicholas was certain he had not heard her correctly. Georgia was the most passive woman he knew. She never subscribed to the eye-for-an-eye belief.

The woman, however, did not blink. Lines marred her forehead as her eyes narrowed, her nose flared, and the corner of her lips turned down. She held her head high with her shoulders back, both hands balled tight.

“Did. He. Fucking. Suffer?” She hissed through clenched teeth.

She did not acknowledge the gasps from people who passed. The daggers in her eyes said she did not give a damn about the profanity she spewed. She wanted blood, and only the confirmation that much was spilled would pacify her.

“Yes, he did.”

With a nod, Georgia turned and walked away. Though he needed her presence, Nicholas did not call out to her. There was too much shame in the role he’d played in his sister’s predicament. Had he listened to Georgia, none of them would be there.

****

Georgia stared at the tile floor outside her apartment. Though someone had mopped up the actual blood, she could still see the smear in her mind.

Nicholas slipped the key from her grip and unlocked the door. With a hand on her lower back, he led her into the apartment and closed the door behind them.

She dropped her handbag on the dresses that lay on the floor by the door and headed for the kitchen. She opened the cabinet under the sink and retrieved a bottle of moonshine her father had brought up the last time he visited the south. Though he had access to more quality liquor, he always said nothing had a kick like the homebrew he got from relatives.

Though Celeste had pulled through the surgery, the news they had received had not been good. The internal damage had been greater than the doctor at first believed. Her friend would never have children of her own.

Georgia had felt the chill when they were told. She had been so furious she’d wished Mr. Santiano had not ordered the elimination of his son-in-law. Gianni needed to suffer some more.

Georgia placed the bottle on the table and reached for two glasses from the dish dryer. She poured the equivalent of a shot in one glass and passed it to Nicholas. As he knocked back his drink, she poured herself a double.

She downed her drink. The liquid burned her throat and brought tears to her eyes. Yet it did not help her accomplish her goal. She could still feel. There was the pain over her friend’s loss and the anger over Gianni’s actions. She would not be content until she felt nothing.

Determined to achieve her goal, Georgia poured another shot. Before she could consume the liquor, Nicholas snatched the glass from her hand.

“You need to pace yourself. Do you know what this stuff will do to you?”

“Of course I do. Why the hell do you think I’m drinking it?” She reached for her drink. Nicholas held the glass out of her reach. “Give it back.”

He shook his head.

Not in the mood to argue with him, she reached for the bottle. Nicholas set both glasses in the sink and snatched the bottle from her.

Georgia screeched, “Give it back!”

****

Nicholas shook his head. “It won’t solve anything.”

Tears hovered at the brim of her eyes. “It’ll make me forget.”

He was not only tempted to oblige her but to pour the drinks himself. They could knock back one shot after another until neither one of them could remember the cruelty they’d witnessed. But eventually morning would come and they would have to deal with a hangover as well as reality.

Their other option was to turn to each other for comfort like they used to, before he became deaf, dumb, and blind to her concerns. Of course, there was a great chance she’d prefer the moonshine to his company.

Nicholas placed the bottle on the sink and extended a hand to her.

He held his breath as she stared at it. He did not know if she’d ever forgive him. Hell, he knew he’d never forgive himself.

After a heartbeat, Georgia stepped forward. Her arms encircled his waist, and her head rested on his chest. She held on tight, as if she got strength from him.

He wrapped his arms around her and relished the feel of her against him. For the moment, no one else mattered. It was just the two of them getting comfort from each other.

Nicholas kissed the top of her head, and she glanced up. Her eyes showed no reproach. Instead, he saw compassion. Her fingertips touched his cheek and, for the first time, he realized it was moist with tears. He covered her hand with his. She gently intertwined their fingers, then pulled his hand to her lips and kissed the bruised knuckles.

The kiss was as chaste as the ones he’d given her years ago when she scraped her knee jumping rope. Yet her touch created a spark that nearly knocked him to his knees.

****

On more than one occasion Georgia had watched Nicholas lust over a well-endowed woman in a tight sweater, sashaying down the street. Then there were the leers that broadcast every lewd thought running through his mind. Yet the heated glance he focused on her was more intense than any she had ever witnessed.

He dipped his head lower. Anticipating the kiss, she held her breath, but instead of covering her lips with his, he hesitated.

She knew the moment their lips touched there would be no turning back, and she suspected it was the biggest dilemma Nicholas had ever faced. Though he wanted her, she was supposed to be off limits to everyone but her husband.

When Nonna Sophie explained to Celeste and Georgia what went on between a man and woman in bed, she also stressed the act was supposed to be performed only after they got married. Only easy women, like the ones Nicholas dated, slept with a man before standing in front of a man of the cloth.

At that moment, Georgia did not give a damn about what good girls did and did not do. For just one night, she wanted to forget about virtues and simply do whatever it took to forget her pain.

Georgia reached up and swiped her tongue over his bottom lip. Beyond that move, she did not know what else to do. Nonna Sophie may have told them what happened in bed; she had omitted the instruction on how to get men there.

The tail on the cat clock hanging next to the refrigerator ticked off the time. With each passing second, her hope faded. He was going to be honorable; the type of man she should settle down with…not the type she needed at that moment.

Just as Georgia was prepared to walk away, Nicholas leaned in and pressed his lips to hers. Her body’s reaction was as powerful as with their previous kiss. Her heart pounded against her chest, her breasts grew sensitive, and the throbbing between her legs returned.

Nicholas released her hand and palmed her breast. She trembled under his touch. If he could affect her despite the barrier of her shirt and bra, she wondered what he could achieve when her clothes were off.

His free hand gripped her wrist and directed her hand until she felt the object he had gone out of his way to hide from her for years. She hesitantly touched the firm body part, then ran her hand down the length and back up again. After performing that gesture two more times, she measured the diameter as best she could through his clothes.