Mobster's Gamble: Chicago Mob Series Book 1 (7 page)

My eyes don’t want to peel open when the rays of sunlight hit my face. Am I dead? Did he kill me? I struggle to inch my eyelids from a locked position. A shock of fear trips its way down my body. Has Priest blinded me? I stir, checking to see if I can move my limbs. I take my time lifting as each one screams in protest. I raise my left hand to my face gingerly, reaching for my eyes. They seem swollen to the size of grapefruits.

“Good, you’re awake.” The voice behind me is chipper but whispered. “Do you mind if I listen to your breathing?” Apparently, this guy is a doctor but I’m not in a hospital. The ceiling is painted gold. Not just a flat gold color but amazing swirls of golden shades.

“Where am I?” The sound from my mouth echoing in my head is foreign to me. My mutter is rocky. I raise my arm to my tender eyes again.

“You are at La Bella Regale Casino.” Wow, it is just as pretty as I imagined and I’ve only seen the ceiling.  I try to sit up. “Lie back down please. I’m Doc Howie. You have injuries that I am not sure about. I am taking you to my friend’s office. You need an MRI.”

“What is that?” Confused, I swivel my head. I take in the opulent room of fattened furniture in soft hues all surrounding the biggest television I have ever seen in my life.

“It’s a machine that will tell me what is going on inside you.”

The mild creak of a door opening gives me a start. My head jolts forward.

Doc Howie rests a hand on my shoulder. “It’s okay. It’s just Carlo. He went to get you some clothes.”

“Clothes? How did I end up here?” My mind is so foggy. I only know one thing very clearly. Priest and his new friends beat me again. The memory of being dragged from my bed flashes before my eyes.

“I found you,” a husky male voice answers. It is one that I have heard before. His masculine face with dark eyes appears over the bed I’m lying on, strips of his longish black hair swishing forward as he gazes down at me. Too quick for me to read completely, an emotion crosses his features—anger, annoyance, lust?

“Thank you,” I respond. It is the proper thing to say to someone who has given you shelter but a tingle of something other than gratitude accompanies my words. Carlo is very attractive and it makes me very uncomfortable as he looks at me. I take my gaze off him and try to move.

“Please don’t. We are going to take you out of here right on this bed. We have hired a private ambulance.”

“I have to leave,” I tell them. They both look to each other, perplexed and even a bit stunned at my announcement. “I don’t want you to go to any trouble over me.”

Carlo leans forward, his face a dark mask. “Why do you have to leave?”

“The compound. I have to get back there.”

Carlo tilts back like I have struck him. “Are you serious? They beat you to within an inch of your life! Those fuckers...”

A hand shoots out, pushing against Carlo’s chest. “Stop. I’ll handle this,” Doc Howie says softly.

Doc Howie takes my battered hand in his. “You can go back if that is what you want. No one is going to stop you.”

“Wha!” Carlo bellows and the doctor cuts him off with a glare.

“But right now isn’t the time. I have been assigned to be your doctor.” He smiles. “I get paid very well and have very few patients. I am sorry I can’t let you go…yet.”

The doctor turns and says very quietly to Carlo, “Leave.”

“But…” Carlo’s hands flail in the air and slap down on his thighs in frustration.

“Get Julius. The ambulance will be here in about ten minutes.”

“Are you giving me orders, Doc?” Carlo looks stunned. The doctor continues holding my hand.

“Yes, I am.”

Carlo hesitates, a hint of betrayal crossing his face. He throws up his arms in anger and I flinch. His actions remind me so much of Priest. Carlo storms out of the room, shutting the door with force.

The doctor releases me and picks up a very soft-looking feminine matching sweatshirt and pants that were thrown on the chair beside the bed.

“The pain medication is probably wearing off. Let me get you some more before we get you dressed.” The doctor steps behind me. I attempt to check out the room again by lifting my groggy head. It is an effort but I’m excited to see a place I always dreamed of coming into.

“Do you live in this apartment alone?” I ask.

“Yes.” He hands me two small white pills to swallow with a glass of water. I take them.

“Does everyone here have one?”

“Yes. They are all a little different though. Some are larger than others.”

The doctor presses a button and the bed I am lying in starts to move. My head is being raised.

“This will help to put less stress on you to get a shirt on.”

“Thank you,” I say as the whirl of the bed lifts me. He scrunches the sweatshirt up to the hole that my head will go through. He puts his hand behind my back and lifts me forward before slipping it over me.  The fabric is soothing. “It’s so soft.”

“We have wonderful shops off the main casino floor. They carry women’s clothes, purses, shoes.  Just about anything you can think of.  There are restaurants too. I am sure when you are better, I can take you down there to dine.”

I rub the fabric between my fingers. It isn’t scratchy or white. “I can’t pay for this.”

The doctor stops fussing. “You don’t owe a dime. It is a gift.”

“From Carlo?” I wonder. He nods. “He is an important person, isn’t he?”

The doctor pushes a button and lowers the bed.

“He is but he doesn’t seem to think so.” What does the doctor mean by that?

Knock, knock.

“Come in, Julius.”

“You need me, Doc?”

“Stand on the other side of the bed.” Julius is tall and dark like Carlo. He walks over and gives me a quick smile. He is not shocked by seeing me. “Anya, this is Julius. Julius this is Anya.” He does a quick head bow, acknowledging me. “Julius is the person who found you on the monitors last night.” The doctor is ripping the tags off the sweatpants. “Hold the sheet down over her middle.” Julius does what the doctor says. “I’m going to put these on you. Julius will keep you covered up. Can you brace your arms on the bed and elevate yourself?” The doctor does the same thing with the sweatpants, scrunching them up and putting each side over each foot. I hold my body steady and raise my leg as he moves the fabric up them. They are so comfy as they travel up my bruised body I could live in them. When he gets to my hips, I jump. A pain shoots up to my ribs. I wince.

“Is she okay, Doc?” Julius is concerned.

“No, that is why she is here.” He straightens the pants and smooths out the sheet. I appreciate him protecting my modesty. “I think we are good to go,” he announces.

Julius pulls out his phone. “The ambulance is here.”

I hate putting these people out like this. I feel helpless. They are all so kind and considerate.

“A couple of days’ rest and I should be fine. This really isn’t necessary,” I almost plead.

I can’t afford all of this and Priest is going to go crazy. He’ll come here. He will come looking for me when his temper calms. He always does. A shred of insane hope fills me that maybe once and for all he is done with me.

“Nonsense. I’m the doctor and I take very good care of my patients.” Doc Howie releases a button and the bed rolls. Julius pushes it toward the door. For a second, I don’t think it will fit but the doctor guides it through and past the threshold, leaving only enough space for the width of a piece of hair. “See.” He grins.

The doctor summons the elevator by pushing a button. The three of us wait. It dings and the doors slide open. I am pushed through and the two men squeeze on with me. Julius uses a card, pushes a button, and the elevator whooshes down to Lord knows where.

They wheel me down a narrow hallway and I am ashamed. The doctor and Julius are going to a lot of work to get me to the ambulance. They are skirting around narrow doorways when we reach a familiar place but unlike anything I have ever seen before—a kitchen. The huge room gleams with stainless steel everything. Large pots, pans, and utensils hang from the ceiling. Crowding the area, people are dressed in white outfits that chefs wear. I am in awe. A woman, probably in her thirties, is yelling at just about everyone.

“I want this place to shine, breakfast is over!”

In a flurry of short bursts, each person takes rapid steps between the large counters with purpose.

Her head whips around and her hand slaps her thigh. “What is this?”

“There is an ambulance outside. We are taking her through here,” Julius informs the woman.

“Sorry to disturb your kitchen, Jessie,” Doc Howie apologizes, steering the bed clear of a particularly high stainless cabinet. The woman’s face is hard but softens when she meets my gaze. I know I look as bad as I feel. Her high white hat tips as she looks away muttering; her anger is back.

“Son of a bitch… Carlo…better make him pay,” is barely audible while she stacks bowls that clank together.

Does she think Carlo did this to me?

“Get out of the way!” Jessie bellows. “For God’s sake!” She takes to yelling at the staff again. “Bobby! Open the door!” A younger-looking guy with dark hair and eyes pushes on a metal bar and swings the door open. He looks away from me, pity evident in his gaze. He seems to think better of it and rallies himself to smile at me. I try to smile back but my split lip stings.

The bed jostles as it is hauled over the threshold into the cool morning air. The alley is filled with a large red truck, the ambulance to take me for tests. Two large men in uniforms that say EMT on their chests carry me and the bed with ease into the back.

Doc Howie jumps in and sits on a small bench beside me. “Julius, we will be back by eleven. Have Jessie make Anya an early lunch.”

The doors slam shut. I want to protest. I don’t want to put the chef out.  I can wait. I am used to fasting so missing a meal isn’t worth being fussed over. Jessie seemed like a person that doesn’t like her scheduled disturbed.

“What the fuck is going on?” Pop asks, shoving a greasy piece of bacon into his mouth.

I have walked back and forth to the window on the back side of his apartment at least a dozen times.

“I told you there was an incident last night.” My voice is highly agitated, bordering on disrespectful.

“That doesn’t fuckin’ tell me anything.” He grabs a glass of orange juice and chugs it down.

I spin toward him and roar, “I’m handling it!”

Pop stands. His chair kicks back. His face is murderous. I have crossed a line. He stalks over to me by the windows. I think he is going to hit me. If he does, I deserve it. I have no right to yell at Pop like that. When he makes it to me, he doesn’t raise his hand, though, he looks down, sees the ambulance, its red lights bright even in the morning sun, and a girl on a stretcher being loaded into it. Following her into the back is Doc Howie. A sharp unfamiliar pain radiates in my chest.

Pop puts a gentle hand on my shoulder. “Start at the beginning.”

*****

“When is she coming back?” Alex asks.

“Julius said the doc said they should be here by eleven. He wants Jessie to have her lunch waiting. You know she asked to fucking go back.”

Alex shrinks back in shock. “Back? To those fucking losers!”

I nod sharply.

We are doing our rounds. We walk the entire building, including the service areas and perimeter, every day. If it isn’t us, someone else on security duty does it.

“What are you going do?” Alex shrugs his shoulders. “She’s brainwashed.”

I seethe at Alex’s words. I don’t agree. I think she has no out so she stays. I see it in her eyes. She doesn’t have the same vacant look as the others. The Anointed Heavens have a flock of blank-eyed followers.

“What did your father say? Did he shit a brick when he found out we took her to the family floor?”

“No, surprisingly. He listened to her story, what happened, and told me to do whatever I have to.”

“Huh.” Alex pulls on a door, making sure it is locked. “Your father isn’t an asshole. He would understand why we did it.” Alex has a conscience and I trust him with my life. Others in this business have no scruples at all, no morals, and don’t give a shit about anyone but themselves.

“We could have taken her to a hospital,” I remind him, wondering why I didn’t. Why did I scoop her into my arms?

He shakes his head. “It was your call to take her to the doc and that is what we did. I don’t see anything wrong with it. I thought she was dead.”

I shudder. “So did I.”

“You did the right thing, Carlo, never doubt it.” Alex’s eyes level with mine and the unspoken bond between us resonates. His support is important to me.

The kitchen staff is running around and Jessie is screaming at everyone as we step inside the area. I don’t know how they stand it.

“Carlo!” She turns her steam on me and stomps toward me. “What the fuck happened to that girl the doc brought through here?”

“Somebody fucked her up.” My gaze shifts to Alex. What I was thinking goes unsaid between us. He knows I didn’t want to get into who I suspected did it or where she is from because with Jessie’s temper she’d be running outside with a butcher knife carving up people wearing blue, not just someone in a blue robe named Priest. She lets it go—unhappily.

“Alex!” Jessie then shouts, stabbing a piece of cake with a fork. “Taste this.” Jessie is still pissed at me from the other morning so I take her directly talking to Alex as a dismissal. That chick can hold a grudge. “Come here,” she calls to him. He steps closer to her. The fork is raised, ready and waiting for him. “I don’t let assholes taste my shit. But you, you’re nice to me.” Alex swipes the bite of some amazing-looking chocolate cake with his lips off the fork she offers. He nods and chews, his face registering that is it pure heaven.

“Jessie, I don’t eat shit, so why would I want to taste yours?” I call out, ready to run out the door. A metal piece of a mixer comes flying across the room. Two prep cooks have to duck before it hits the wall beside me. I laugh my ass off and keep heading outside.

“Get the fuck out of my kitchen, Carlo!” she yells. “And where is that other line cook you promised me, you prick!” I hear her as Alex shuts the door behind him.

“Why do you do that? Haven’t you ever heard of ‘don’t bite the hand that feeds you’?”

“You know why… Because it’s fun. You see how red her face gets.”

Alex rolls his eyes. “I’d back off, dude, or you’re going to find a tarantula in your dinner.” He steps toward me. “I’ve heard her talking. Fuck that shit. I’d stay clear of the kitchen if I were you.”

“Yeah, I’m thinking of eating at other restaurants in the casino on the lower level.”

“You probably should. I’d back off for a while. One day she’s not gonna miss when she throws something at you.”

The high from teasing Jessie wears off as I check my phone. It’s ten minutes to eleven. My heart’s pumping. I glance around the alley; it’s empty. My eyes slip by across the street and land on the spot where we found Anya stumbling. A burn rushes from my head to my chest as deep-seated anger rises. Who would ever hurt a woman like that?  Nobody has the right to beat on a defenseless woman. That’s another one of Pop’s rules—no drugs, no prostitution, and we don’t beat on vulnerable people. It is a true sign of weakness in a male. Like sucker punches, that shit drives Pop crazy. He’s killed people for doing it. If you can’t fight and look your opponent in the eye, then you’re less than human, you’re the shit we scrape off our boots.

I check my phone again. I wanted to be out here when the ambulance comes back. It’s not uncommon for Alex and me to stand out here. Many times we have to conduct some business that goes beyond the casino and this is typically where we do it.

“What about Caesar?” Alex mentions, kicking a can that is lying by the wall. It skips and jumps, rattling with a hollow tinny sound. Caesar had totally slipped my mind. Finding Anya last night has totally consumed my thoughts since the moment I picked her up and carried her inside.

“The game is on. I’m just not sure what move is next. If nothing happens before we need to collect from Ricco again, then I will put some feelers out for what’s going on with the Campuonos. I don’t think we’re going to have to wait that long.”

The engine of a truck sounds in the distance with long beeps that identify the truck as backing up. The ass of the truck makes it into the alley. It’s the ambulance returning with Anya and Doc.  And anxious feeling crawls up my back, one I’ve never felt before. It’s on the cusp of being nervous and excited all rolled together.

“Let Jessie know that they’re back. Doc wanted her to eat.”

Alex raps on the door and Bobby peeks his head out. The roar of the truck engine is close, making it hard to hear voices. Alex motions with his thumb and shouts to Bobby. “She’s here. Get her lunch ready.” Bobby nods and I can’t take my eyes off the ambulance. It finally comes to a halt and the latch lifts on the door. Doc Howie jumps down.

“She did well,” he says to me. “There is no internal bleeding. There is no swelling on the brain. Those were my main concerns.” He sighs. “She wants to get out of the bed and walk.”

“Should she?” It doesn’t sound like a good idea to me; she needs rest.

Doc Howie shakes his head. “She has a lot more healing to do.”

Inside the ambulance, I hear her tiny voice. She’s giving the EMT a hard time.

“I am well enough to walk.”

“Honey, this is what we get paid for. We are getting you out of this ambulance and you’re staying on the bed. What you do after that is your business.”

The two EMTs grab hold of each side of the hospital bed and lower it toward the ground. When it reaches my height I help them. I am hovering over her head and she looks up at me. Her eyes make me feel like I got shot in the gut. I’ve been in a lot of fights but I’ve never been beaten as badly as she has been. I don’t want to admit it but it breaks my heart. No one should have to endure this. My face twists into a rage that I have to suppress.

“I can walk,” she whispers to me. My lips form a tight line and I shake my head no with force.

They are locking up the ambulance. Doc Howie and Alex are pushing the bed toward the side door to the kitchen. I reach into my pocket and grab two hundred-dollar bills and tip the drivers. “Send the invoice to La Bella Regale.” The guy nods with a thank-you. And I follow Doc Howie and Alex into the kitchen.