MOB BOSS 2 (16 page)

becoming what even she described as their prisoner until he could get a handle on the aleged kidnapping, until another phone cal came in.

Carmine, who handed Marcy’s cel phone to Tommy, was ordered to go to the suite downstairs to be with his wife and keep an eye on the family. Dirty was doing the job, but he wanted

Carmine to get a break, too. Nothing could be gained, he assured him, by worrying themselves to death.

And as for Trina, he wanted his face between her legs so badly he could already taste her. That was why, as soon as their penthouse was emptied of guests and he had her in the bedroom

closing the door, he slammed her against that door and began kissing her hard. He couldn’t get enough of her.

***

Tommy and Sal, along with Marcy and a team of security, took the elevator down to the fifteenth floor, where their assigned suite was located. Sal was appeasing Marcy, undoubtedly to get her in

his bed tonight, and Tommy was staring at Marcy, watching her every move, her every interplay.

“He gave up you for her?” Sal was saying.

“I know,” Marcy agreed.

“He’s out of his mind,” Sal continued. “You? A gorgeous woman like you? For that black ink spot--”

“That’s enough, Sal,” Tommy warned as Marcy laughed.

Sal looked at Marcy, who was smiling. “Don’t mind him,” he said. “He likes those African-Americans too.” Marcy laughed again. “And the blacker the better far as he’s concerned. He’s had

so many tar baby girlfriends I wondered if he wasn’t black himself. And they can be plump, too, and he stil finds them so attractive. Not me. I like my women blonde, blue-eyed and slim as Jim. Just like you.” He said this to Marcy and Marcy grinned. Tommy roled his eyes.

But they weren’t in the apartment ten minutes before Marcy’s cel phone began to ring. Tommy had manipulated the phone so that it would ring into his phone also. He and Marcy answered at

the same time.

“This Marcy,” she said.

“You with Reno?” Pags asked.

Marcy looked at Tommy. Tommy nodded. “Yes,” she said into the phone.

“Tel Reno a package has been waiting downstairs for him for nearly two days now. It contains a tape. Tel him to watch it. Our instructions wil be on that tape. Oh, and tel Reno it’s under the

name of Capone, Alvin.” Then Pags laughed, and clicked off.

“Al Capone?” Sal asked. “What kind of game are they playing at?”

“Get Reno,” Tommy ordered in a tone Sal knew not to dispute. He hurried to get Reno.

***

Reno was in bed fucking Trina so hard that the entire bed was bouncing. She was on her stomach, her ass pushed up to him, and he was riding her hard. His hands were squeezing her breasts as he

fucked her, as his penis kept slicing in and out of her with a preciseness that amazed her. He kept hitting her spot, kept sliding just where she needed him to slide to give her that sensual, euphoric feeling of pleasure that tingled down through her toes. She was holding onto the coverings, but they kept sliding too, as he banged her, as he made her feel that nothing else in this world mattered but the way he was making her feel at this moment in time.

Sal Luca, like Tommy, had carte blanche through the many layers of security guarding Reno, and after knocking and getting no answer at the front door, walked on in. He could hear them

pounding as soon as he crossed the threshold. He could hear her screaming. He could hear Reno grunting. He was getting a hard on just hearing her screams, just hearing the bed bouncing, just hearing Reno’s grunts.

Reno’s grunts.

But this was business. He pounded on the bedroom door.

Reno didn’t hear it at first, he was just that lost in the feeling Trina’s ass was giving to him. He could have fucked her for another hour, he was nowhere near finished, even though he had released

inside of her already. Then he heard Sal’s voice, and he was able to stop himself.

He and Trina both colapsed down onto the bed that now looked as if it had been hit by a hurricane. “What is it?” he yeled back.

“Marcy’s got the phone cal. They left a package for you.”

Reno looked at Trina and then they both jumped up and threw on clothes. Reno threw on a pair of jeans and a shirt, Trina threw back on her shorts and a t-shirt. And they, along with Sal, who

was staring at Trina, hurried to Tommy’s room.

The tape had already arrived by the time Reno and Trina walked into the hotel suite. They immediately gathered around the television set, with Reno sitting Trina on his lap, Marcy seated in a

chair flanking them, and Tommy played the tape.

The scene was of a smal room. It could have been a bedroom, an office, or even part of a warehouse somewhere. It was too difficult to tel. Everything, it seemed, was covered in black. But

there was an empty chair in that room and for nearly a minute nothing happened. Then a voice could be heard, a distorted but clear voice. It wasn’t Pags.

“Reno, helo. I knew Marcy would come through for us. She was always good at pleasing men.” He laughed as if it was a joke.

“She told you about your son I take it? About the fact that he had been kidnapped and she had been badly bruised? Did she show you the bruise? That was her idea. Reno would ask for

proof, she said.”

“That lying motherfucker!” Marcy screamed but Reno hushed her. His eyes were riveted on the screen, totaly concentrated on that voice. He didn’t realize it, but his hand around Trina’s waist

was squeezing her too tightly. But she didn’t complain. She was tense too, she was terrified that those fools was going to show them a dead baby or something, just to prove some point to Reno.

“But that’s what she said,” the voice on the tape said. “She said you’d want evidence of a dragging. So we gave it to her. Gave it to her where she would have to strip to show you, which I’m

sure she did. She is, after al, a freak.”

Marcy was fuming. This was not how Pags said it would play out.

“The thing is, there was no kidnapping. At least not when Marcy came running to you.”

“That’s a lie,” Marcy said halfheartedly, wondering why they were going in this direction, wondering if they had other aces up their asses Pags hadn’t shared with her.

“But now,” the voice said and Reno squeezed Trina tighter, “things have changed.”

The scene on the screen went black and then reappeared with Marcy’s six year old son Nicholas seated in front of the camera. Marcy, astounded, stood to her feet.

“No,” she said, confusion overtaking her, shaking her head. “That can’t be Nicky!”

Reno and Tommy looked at her. “What are you talking about?”

“What are you doing?” Marcy said, talking to the screen as if Pags and the voice were standing right in front of her.

“Yes, Marcy,” the voice on the screen said, “we have him.”

Marcy began covering her mouth and shaking her head. “No,” she said.

“What is it, Marce?” Reno asked.

“They don’t, they can’t. I didn’t know--”

“You didn’t know what?”

“They said, Pags said. . .” She kept shaking her head. “No!”

“You thought you were so clever, didn’t you, Marce?” the voice on the tape continued. “You thought you could sneak him out of the country and we old hicks wouldn’t notice. Come now,

child. Who do you think you’re dealing with? We had you tailed long before our little meeting, and definitely after the meeting. But that was the plan, Reno. She was to tel you that her child had been kidnapped when her child, in her mind anyway, was safely tucked away in Belize. Your child, Reno. This is your child. Looks just like you, wouldn’t you say? A blonde haired Reno Gabrini, Junior.

But not for long.”

Reno’s heart pounded against his chest, as he couldn’t take his eyes off of the little, frightened boy.

“Where’s my child!” Marcy screamed, real tears running down her cheeks. She never dreamed this would happen. Not in a milion years would she have dreamed Pags would do this to her.

Trina stood up from Reno’s lap and hurried to her, placing an arm around her waist. “I want my child! They can’t have him!”

“Don’t worry,” Trina said. “Reno wil get him back.” Trina looked at Reno, her anguished face betraying her words, then she looked back at the screen.

“We have a proposition for you, Reno,” the voice on the tape said. “Yes, that’s what we do, don’t we? Proposition al day long. Wel here’s yours: you can have your boy back, back

completely unharmed and in his father’s loving arms, yes you can. But there’s a catch.”

You could hear a pin drop in the room, as everybody, including Marcy, held their breath and waited for the catch.

“You can have your son. But we want your wife.”

Reno thought his heart had stopped beating when Trina’s name was spoken. He even grabbed his shirt at his chest, to stop the pain.

Trina’s heart hammered too, as she looked at Reno, as she realized the position they had just put him in.

“That’s the deal,” the voice continued. “Not open to negotiation of any kind. We want the black girl. Katrina, isn’t that her name? We want her. Period. End of discussion. We want the love

of your life.”

There was a long sigh. “So you think about it for a few hours, okay? Think long and hard about it. We want you to be in anguish every hour you think about. But you don’t have many hours.

Twenty-four to be precise. We wil be back in touch at that time. The time and place for the exchange wil be ready to go. Make sure your plane is ready to bring that black beauty of a wife to us,

because there wil be no further delays. We just need to first make sure you haven’t foolishly contacted law enforcement. I mean, we can’t stop you of course. You can go to the police if you want to.

Such a move would be il advised, however. Because you see, they’l be very interested in how you masterminded the Frank Partanna hit, wouldn’t they? I mean, murder is murder, right? So go to the

cops if you want. Bring them in if you please. You might pul it off and not end up on death row, I doubt it, but you might actualy live. But it’s guaranteed that your son here won’t.”

Then the little boy looked over to his right, as if the man talking had been talking off camera in his sight al along. “Say goodbye to your father, Reno, Junior.”

Then the little boy looked over to his right, as if the man talking had been talking off camera in his sight al along. “Say goodbye to your father, Reno, Junior.”

The boy was so terrified his bottom lip shook. “Good bye,” he said nervously.

“Say goodbye, father,” the man off camera said.

“Goodbye, father,” Nicholas said, his big blue eyes filed with weariness, filed with the kind of fear that was choking Reno. And the screen went black.

Marcy fel to her knees screaming and crying, and Trina went down with her, trying to keep her from complete colapse. Tommy and Sal Luca glanced at each other. This was bad. They knew

how Reno felt about his wife. This was bad.

Reno, however, was calm. And it was that calm, that lack of movement and decision, that terrified every one of them. Nobody had ever seen Reno quite like this.

But Reno knew like Tommy and Sal Luca knew how bad this was. While they were stil trying to get their acts together, stil trying to get checkers on the board, Partanna’s people were not only

already playing chess, but had just check-mated them. And left him with a Hopson’s choice. With a take it or leave it. With two clear options that were both clearly bad.

THIRTEEN

The private balcony on the backside of the penthouse offered an awe-inspiring view of the Vegas skyline. But Reno, who sat on the lounger, and Trina, who sat at the foot of that lounger, hadn’t

even noticed the view. Reno was contemplative, and Trina was stil worried. Tommy was out there too, his back to Trina and Reno, his arms on the rail and his eyes disgusted by the view.

“The answer is what it wil always be, Tree,” Reno said to his wife. “No.”

“But we can’t let a child die. Let your son die. How can we live with something like that on our heads?”

Reno wanted to close his eyes, but didn’t. “We’l have to think of something. They won’t kil a child.”

“Oh, please, Reno, give me a break! You mob people just kils me with that honor nonsense. There’s no honor among thieves, and you know it. Just thieves. Just people who wil do whatever

they have to do to avenge what was done to them. And if it means kiling your kid, they’l kil your kid. They wil.”

Reno ran his hand through his hair. “We’l come up with something.”

“But what? You don’t even know where they’re holding the boy.”

“No, but they know.”

Trina frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Reno looked at Tommy. Trina looked from Reno to Tommy. “What?”

Tommy exhaled, his back stil to them. “Their boss knows where the kid is being held. We’l just have to get him to tel us.”

Trina stared at Tommy’s straight, elegant back. “How in the world are you going to do that?”

Tommy looked at Reno, causing Trina to look, too. Reno was staring at the dark, black hole he felt he was in. “Reno?” Tommy said. “What say you? I think we’ve come to that no other

choice moment.”

At first Reno said nothing, just continued to stare, just continued to think about that sweet-faced boy with the striking blonde hair. “Do it,” he said to Tommy without looking at him. “Bring that

bastard in.”

***

Newark, New Jersey. Police Officer Paul Brown and his partner Jack “Bronx” Bratmann received the cal and then laughed. Seemed their coleagues needed back up because the aleged perp in a

DV dispute didn’t just want to beat on his wife, but wanted to take out cops as wel.

“What,” Paul said, “they can’t handle a trailer park yahoo?”

When they arrived at the smal, dilapidated trailer in an entire park of dilapidation, an ambulance and three other police cars were already there. They could hear the commotion from outside.