Sal Gabrini 4: I'll Take You There (The Gabrini Men Series Book 7) (21 page)

“Welcome
to the club,” Sal said.
 
“Sometimes I get
so happy I have to slap myself.
 
Cool it,
Sal.
 
Ease the hell up!
 
I have to tell myself these things.”

Cassie
laughed as Rodney stood up too.
 
But
instead of joining in with the gaiety, he headed for the front door.
 
“I’ll wait for you outside,” he said to his
wife.

But
Gemma broke away from the others, and hurried behind her father.
 
She caught up with him as he stepped outside
and was walking toward the steps.
 
She
grabbed him by the arm, and turned him around.

“Why
can’t you be happy for me, Daddy?” she asked him.
 
She truly didn’t understand his
reluctance.
 
She truly didn’t understand
his selfishness.

“I
can’t deny what’s staring me in the face,” Rodney responded, the pain in his
eyes.

“What’s
staring you in the face?
 
What is it?”

“Marrying
that man,” he said, “may mean a death sentence for you, Gemma.”

“Yes,”
Gemma said, nodding her head.
 
“It may
very well mean death for me.
 
Sal is not
your run-of-the-mill man.
 
It could mean
death.
 
But I know it’ll mean life for
me.
 
The only life I want to live.
 
I’m happy with Sal.
 
I feel more protected with him than I would
with a thousand bodyguards surrounding me.
 
I’m asking you to be happy for me.
 
I’m asking you to realize what kind of woman you raised and know that
you didn’t raise her to be foolish.
 
I know
what I’m doing.
 
I know what I want.
 
I’m going for it, Dad.
 
You with me, or not with me.
 
But I’m going for it.”

Rodney
stared at her.
  
There was a long, long
pause.
 
It was as if he could hardly
bring himself to admit it.
 
But he knew
he had to.
 
He exhaled.
 
“Yes, I know,” he said.
 
“I guess I’ve known it all along.”

Gemma
stared at him.
 
“I hate to do it, Dad,
but I’m going to have to give you an ultimatum. I’m going to have to pull a
George W. Bush on you, Pop.”

“A
what?”

“A
George W. Bush.
 
After 9-11.
 
You’re either with me and Sal,” she said, “or
you’re with the terrorists.”

Rodney
laughed.

“What’s
your choice?” Gemma asked.

“The
terrorists,” he said.
 

Gemma
looked at him as if she couldn’t believe it.

He
laughed and pulled her into his arms. “You, silly girl,” he said.
 
“I’m with my daughter always.”

Later
that night, when her parents were asleep in the guest room, and Sal and Gemma
were snuggled close in the master bedroom, the call came in.
 
Gemma woke up first.
 
She was lying in front of Sal in the spoon
position and fumbled around with the nightstand until she found his ringing
cell phone.
 
She answered it.

“Hello?”
 
She didn’t bother to look at the Caller
ID.
 
It was two in the morning.
 
It was obviously important.

“Hey
sweetie.”
 
It was Tommy.
 
“Sal there?”

Gemma
nudged Sal.
 
“Sal?” she asked.
 
“Sal?”

Sal
began to wake up.
 
Gemma handed him the
cell phone.
 
“It’s Tommy.”

Sal
took the phone and moved to lay onto his back.
 
But his dick was inside of Gemma and didn’t slip out easily, so he remained
on his side and lifted up on his elbow instead.
 
“Tommy, hey.
 
What’s up?”

“You
sleep more than a dead man.”

“Fuck
you,” Sal said, his eyes closed.

Gemma
shook her head.
 
Even half asleep that
word was still Sal’s favorite word.

“Don’t
get your panties in a bunch,” Tommy said.
 
“We’ve got Neeco.”

Sal’s
eyes opened then.
 
He didn’t need any
further explanation.
 
“Tell me where,” he
said.

The
safe house was located in a wooded area on the outskirts of town.
 
It belonged to Reno, and it was his men guarding
the place, so Sal wasn’t surprised when he got out of Gemma’s BMW and saw Reno
there too when he went inside the house.

Sal
walked in slowly.
 
He wore an oxford
shirt hanging out of his pants, and was still shaking off sleep.
 
But he was wide awake when he saw Neeco,
battered face and swollen eyes, sitting on that sofa.

Sal
frowned.
 
“Damn,” he said.
 
“What happened to him?”
 
He looked at Reno.

“He
slipped,” Reno said.
 
“Who cares?
 
His ass got what he deserved.”

Another
man was in the room: Bruce Slim.
 
He also
did jobs for Sal, but only because Neeco had brought him into the fold.
 
He was guilty by association only.
 
At this point.

Sal
stared at Neeco, at this man who worked for him.
 
He stared at the man he used to trust.
 
Then he walked around the coffee table and
sat down in front of his former friend.

Neeco
looked at him.
 
He knew the gig was
up.
 
Sal Gabrini, Reno Gabrini, and Tommy
Gabrini together?
 
They didn’t come
together in a safe house to sing Kumbaya.
 
This was bad.
 
Neeco knew it would
take a miracle for him to get out of this alive.

But
Sal had a heart.
 
And he was Sal’s
man.
 
They couldn’t do anything if Sal
didn’t go along.
 
Neeco was depending on
Sal to not go along.

“It’s
not what you think,” Neeco started, but Sal immediately held up a hand, and in
doing so he made it clear: he did not want to hear it.

“Where’s
Rip?” he asked him.

“Sal,
you gotta help me, man.
 
I’m one of
yours!”

Sal
punched him so hard in the face that Neeco’s head whiplashed, and blood flew
from his nose.
 
Reno smiled.
 
Tommy continued to stare at his brother.
 
He didn’t often get to see Sal in action.

“Where’s
Rip?” Sal asked Neeco again.

Neeco
started begging.
 
“I’ve been there for
you, Sal.”

But
Sal had no sentiment for him tonight.
 
“I’m not going to ask you again,” he said.
 
“I’m going to fuck you up instead.
 
Answer my question.”

“There
is no Rip!”
 
Neeco yelled.
 
“Alright?
 
Satisfied?”

Sal
frowned.
 
So did Reno and Tommy.
 

“What
the fuck?” Reno asked, mystified.

“What
are you talking?” Sal asked.
 
“You’re telling
me Johnny Ripperton don’t exist?”

“He
don’t exist in this.
 
He’s not involved
in this.”

“What
the fuck you mean he’s not involved?” Sal was beside himself.
 
“He killed that kid.”

“I
made it up,” Neeco admitted.
 
“I made the
whole thing up.”

Sal
couldn’t believe it.
 
“You made it
up?
 
How could you make it up?
 
The kid died!”

“I
know that!”

“Then
what the fuck you mean you made it up?
 
Now you tell me the truth you cocksucker!
 
Where’s Rip and why did you claim Rip killed
Lonnie’s kid?”

“They
wanted a fresh murder,” Neeco said.

Reno
and Tommy looked at each other.
 
Sal
frowned.
 
“Who wanted a fresh murder?”

“The
FBI!
 
They wanted to nail your ass and
they needed a fresh murder to do it with.
 
They couldn’t pin any of the old stuff on you, and they knew it.
 
They needed fresh meat.”

“So
what?” Reno said.
 
“They’re always
looking to take down a Gabrini.
 
What
does that have to do with you?”

Neeco
hesitated.

“Spit
it out!” Sal yelled.

“Because
they had my ass already,” Neeco said.

“The
Feds?”

“Yes.”

“What
for?”

“Old
shit.
 
Some hit I did years ago.
 
Before I met you.
 
But they had my ass in a sling, Sal.
 
They were talking about Life plus
twenty.
 
And they’d get a conviction
too.
 
They had me dead to rights.”

“So
you snitched on Sal?” Reno asked him.

“I
had to deliver better goods,” Neeco said.
 
“They’d take me off the grill only if I gave them bigger fish to fry.”

“Sal,”
Tommy said.

“Sal,”
Neeco admitted.
 
“But nothing was going
down fast enough for them.
 
So I faked
that kidnapping of Angela and Lonnie’s son.
 
I put the blame on an easy target like Rip, and I knew that would get
Sal involved.
 
But Rip was elusive as a
motherfuck.
 
I couldn’t catch his ass
with an ocean-size net.
 
But I was able
to snatch Philly.
 
I figured Philly’s
death would do the trick.
 
But Sal saw
through it.
 
He knew Philly wasn’t in
deep enough for a killing, and he wouldn’t let him fall.
 
I dropped him, but told the Feds Sal dropped
him.
 
But that wasn’t enough for
them.
 
Philly’s death suddenly wasn’t
enough.
 
They thought Philly was too
dirty and complicated for the charges to stick in a court of law.”

“So
you had to get more?” Tommy asked.

“They
said I had to.
 
My life was on the
line!
 
They said Philly plus somebody
else would do it.
 
It didn’t matter
who.
 
But it had to be fresh and Sal had
to be easily implicated.
 
That’s when
Lonnie and Angela’s kid came into play again.”

“Why
was Angela pointing a finger at Rip?” Sal asked.

“Because
she thought she was dealing with Rip.
 
I
made her think it.
 
But it wasn’t
Rip.
  
Bruce was handling it for me.”

Bruce
began to back up.
 
“No, sur, boss,” he
said.
 
“I didn’t know it was going down
like that, Sal,” he added.

But
Sal was completely focused on Neeco.
 
On
his main man.

“So I
knew I had to do something drastic,” Neeco said.
 
“They were breathing down my throat for
more.
 
So that’s when the kid came in
again.”

“Lonnie’s
kid?” Tommy asked.

“Yeah.”

“Who
iced the kid.
 
You?” Sal asked him
pointblank.

Neeco
didn’t respond.

“Who
iced the kid?” Sal asked again.
 
“You?”

Neeco
began to cry.
 
“I had too, don’t you
see?
 
That’s the only way you would do
something!
 
They wanted fresh meat.
 
I could blame the kid’s death on Rip and I
knew then you’d get him.
 
You’d get him
then.
 
So me and Bruce, we took care of
it.”

Bruce
was mortified. “I didn’t know it happened until after it happened, Sal!
 
Then Neek said I was in too deep to run to
you.
 
Neek said you’d kill me on the spot
anyway!”

But
Sal was just sitting there.
 
Stunned.
 
Silence overtook the
room.

Then
Sal spoke.
 
But he spoke as if he was
still coming to terms with it himself.
 
“Are you telling me . . . Are you telling me that you motherfuckers
killed a kid just to get my attention?”