Sal Gabrini: Just The Way You Are

BOOK: Sal Gabrini: Just The Way You Are
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SAL GABRINI

JUST THE WAY YOU
ARE

BY

MALLORY MONROE

 
 
 

Copyright©2016 Mallory Monroe

All rights
reserved.  Any use of the materials contained in this book without the
expressed written consent of the author and/or her affiliates, including scanning,
uploading and downloading at file sharing and other sites, and distribution of
this book by way of the Internet or any other means, is illegal and strictly
prohibited.

 

AUSTIN BROOK PUBLISHING

IT IS ILLEGAL TO UPLOAD THIS
BOOK TO ANY FILE SHARING SITE.

IT IS ILLEGAL TO DOWNLOAD
THIS BOOK FROM ANY FILE SHARING SITE.

IT IS ILLEGAL TO SELL OR
GIVE THIS eBOOK TO ANYBODY ELSE

WITHOUT THE WRITTEN CONSENT
OF

THE AUTHOR AND AUSTIN BROOK
PUBLISHING.

This novel
is a work of fiction.  All characters are fictitious.  Any
similarities to anyone living or dead are completely accidental.  The
specific mention of known places or venues are not meant to be exact replicas
of those places, but are purposely embellished or imagined for the story’s
sake.

PROLOGUE
 

“Another
round, boss?”

“No.
 
We’re still on duty.”

“Ah, come
on, Sarge!
 
Just one more round.”

“What are
you asking me again for?
 
I said no. We
have to stay sober.
 
He’ll be here any
minute.”

“All Cap’s
gonna do is bitch and moan about why we can’t keep our asses out of trouble
like he always does.
 
Who the fuck wants
to be sober for that?”

The cops,
all plainclothes detectives, laughed.
 
But their young sergeant, Sal Gabrini, failed to see the humor.
 
He looked at his wrist watch instead.
 
The “Cap” they were referring to was Captain
Tommy Gabrini, Sal’s big brother and boss.
 
And Sal knew Tommy didn’t play.

But his
detectives had a point too.
 
Hearing that
shit sober, especially when he already knew Tommy was mad as hell, wasn’t
appealing no matter how he sliced it.
  
Besides, they were having the meeting in a fucking bar.
 
What did Tommy expect?
 
“One more round,” Sal said, and the men
hooped and clapped.
 
They always knew
they could count on Sal!

The men,
four deep, were sitting at a table in Luddie’s, a dark and dank smoke-filled
bar in a slum outside of Seattle, and they were a boisterous group in a bar
filled with boisterous groups.
 
But they
were also plainclothes Vice cops in all kinds of trouble, and their captain
wasn’t happy.
 
Something happened to a
trunk-load of narcotics they were supposed to have confiscated during a drug
bust.
 
Sal declared that some unknown
group of drug dealing thugs ran off with the stash during the shootout.
 
But Tommy, to Sal’s anguish, wasn’t buying
it.
 
Tommy believed that his own
officers, led by his thug younger brother, snatched the stash themselves.

While Carve
Clayton, one of the four Vice cops, went over to the bar to order another
round, Frankie Jaleppi and Dukes Ward remained at the table with Sal.
 
Frankie, who was always the most observant of
the group, noticed Luddie at the bar.
 
He
elbowed Sal.
 
“Big Tit Luddie’s eyeing
you again, Sarge.”

Sal glanced
at Luddie, a busty, beautiful blonde, and she waved at him.
 
But Sal didn’t respond to her wave.
 
He lifted his beer mug and drank the last of
his pint.

Frankie
laughed and dapped the ash off of his cigar.
 
“What are you doing, Sarge?
 
Trying to act as if you’re no longer interested?
 
You were interested when we shot by here last
week.
 
And the week before that.”

“You don’t
know what I was interested in,” Sal responded.

“He’s been
hitting it,” Dukes said confidently.

Frankie
smiled.
 
“You been hitting that too?
 
Damn, boss, you get around more than I do and
I’m the lover boy of this group!
 
And
what about Grady?”

“Fuck
Grady,” Sal responded and they laughed.
 
“She’s his old lady.
 
She owes him
faithfulness.
 
I don’t owe him shit.”

“Ah shit,”
said Dukes.
 
“Cap’s here!”

Sal and
Frankie looked out of the dingy window of the dingy bar.
 
They saw Tommy Gabrini, their young police
captain, get out of his Corvette and make his way toward the entrance.
 
He was on his cell phone, however, and stayed
outside to finish his conversation.

“Check him
out,” Dukes said, shaking his head.
 
“Driving a fucking Corvette and we can barely pay our rent.”

Frankie,
still staring at Tommy, shook his head too.
 
“That’s a freakishly handsome dude, though,” Frankie said.
 
“I mean damn.”

“I’ll bet he
has no trouble wooing the ladies,” Dukes added.

Sal was
staring at his brother too.
 
They all saw
the beauty and the glitz and glamour, but Sal knew the price Tommy had to pay
for that beauty.
 
Men were in love with
Tommy as well as women, and he knew how much Tommy hated it.
 
He knew how much Tommy didn’t want to have
anything to do with their so-called “love.”

“How come
you ain’t freakishly handsome like Cap is, Sal?” Frankie asked his boss.
 
“I mean, you’re a freak,” he added, and Sal
and his men couldn’t help but laugh.

“And how
come your brother gets to be Captain,” Frankie continued, “and you’re still a
sorry-ass sergeant in Vice?”

“Because
he’s a fucking genius and I’m stupid,” Sal responded with sarcasm in his
voice.
 
“How the fuck should I know?
 
How come you’re asking me all of these
questions?”

“Hey,
Handsome,” a voice said just above Sal’s head and all three men turned toward
the sound.
 
Luddie, the bar’s namesake,
was standing at their table.
 
She was a
tall blond with a narrow waist and enormous breasts, and it was those breasts
that caught the eyes of all three men first.

“What’s up,
Lude?” Sal asked.

“What’s up
with you?
 
I ever tell you how much I
love Italian men?
 
Especially if they
look like you, Sal Luca.”

“We’re all
Italians at this table,” Frankie said.
 
“Why you singling out Sarge?”

“Because
he’s the only good looking one at this table,” Luddie said, and Dukes and Carve
laughed.

Luddie
turned her attention back to Sal.
 
She
leaned toward him, revealing even more of her big breasts.
 
“I got that paperwork in the back,” she said,
glancing down at his biggest attribute too: that penis she knew so well.
 
“Wanna check it out?”

Sal looked
toward the bar.
 
Grady was nowhere in
sight.
 
Not that it mattered to him.
 
“Yeah, why not?” Sal drank the last of his
beer, and began to rise.

“But Sarge,”
Frankie said, “Cap’s right out front.”

Sal
frowned.
 
“What are you going all nervous
nelly on me for?
 
When he gets in here
you tell him I’ll be back.
 
Damn,
Frankie, what’s your problem?”

“I ain’t got
no problem.
 
What’s your problem?”

But Luddie
was smiling.
 
“Looks like Little Frankie
loves him some Big Sal,” she said playfully.

“Ah, fuck
you, Lude!” Frankie fired back, and Luddie and Dukes laughed.
 
Then Luddie followed Sal to the back.

“Where’s
Sarge going?” Carve asked when he arrived back at the table with four mugs
filled with beer.

“None of
your fucking business,” a still angry Frankie responded.

“What did I
do?”

“Just sit
your ass down.”

Carve
glanced at Duke as he sat down.
 
“What
did I do?” he asked again as Tommy, ending his phone call, entered the bar.

“Forget
about it,” Dukes said as he nodded toward their captain.

Carve and
Frankie looked too.
 
“He doesn’t look
like he’s in a good mood, though,” Carve said.

“When is he
ever in a good mood?” Dukes asked.

“Hey, Cap,”
Frankie said with a fake smile when Tommy walked up.
 
Because Tommy was taller than all of them,
far more handsome than all of them, and wealthier than all of them despite
their underhanded dealings, Frankie hated his guts.

“Where’s
Sergeant Gabrini?” Tommy asked.
 
Sergeant Gabrini
was Tommy’s beloved
younger brother.
 
But at work he kept it
completely professional.
 
Everybody
already were convinced that the only reason he was captain at such a young age
was because his father was police commissioner.
 
They believed it was nepotism, not his hard work that propelled him
ahead.
 
Tommy worked overtime, refusing
to go easy on anybody, to prove them wrong.

“He’s here,”
Frankie responded.

“That wasn’t
my question,” Tommy said.
 
“Where is he?”

Dukes looked
at Frankie.
 
How would he get out of this
one?
 
“He’s in back pulling together a
more private room for us to meet in,” he said.
 
“He’ll be out in a sec.”

Tommy began
heading in that direction.

“Shit!”
Dukes said.
 
“Why did you have to tell
him he was in the backroom?”

“Cap, wait!”
Frankie said as he, Carve, and Dukes hurried behind Tommy.

But Tommy
knew his brother too well.
 
He knew
exactly what he was “pulling together” in that backroom.
 
And when they made their way to the back of
the bar beyond the smelly restrooms, and Tommy pushed open the door to the
storage room, his suspicion was confirmed.
 
On the far end of the room was Sal, his pants down to his ankle, fucking
the shit out of Luddie’s bent over pink ass.
 
And he was cumming too.
 
Tommy
could see it in the way his muscular body trembled.

Frankie, in
an effort to alert Sal of their sudden presence, banged on the wall before
Tommy could speak.
 
When Sal saw them, he
was stunned.
 
His cock quickly pulled out
of Luddie’s wetness.
 
But they all could
already see the thick wad of semen already in his condom.
 
“Damn, Frankie, I thought you had my back!”
Sal yelled.

“I do have
your back!
 
What was I supposed to
do?
 
Tackle the captain of police?”

Sal looked
at Tommy.
 
He already could see his
displeasure.
 
“I didn’t think we were
still having the meeting,” Sal lied.

“There’s no
meeting,” Tommy responded with his well-known controlled fury.
 
“No need for one.
 
You and your men are suspended pending an
investigation.”
 
They all were
astonished.
 
Nobody expected that harsh a
penalty.
 
Tommy was their sergeant’s
brother for crying out loud!

“Suspended?”
Frankie asked.

“For three
months,” Tommy said.

“Suspended?”
Dukes asked.

“Without
pay,” Tommy said.

“What did we
do?” Carve asked, astounded too.

“Suspended
without pay effective immediately,” Tommy said firmly.

“But what
did we do?” Sal asked, repeating what Carve had asked.

“You cannot
locate drugs that should have been seized and placed into evidence,” Tommy
said, his anger rising.
 
“You’re drinking
on the job.
 
You’re fucking on the
job.
 
That’s what you did!”

Tommy turned
to leave, but angrily turned back.
 

You’re
sorry excuses for cops every one of you.
  
All four of you should be ashamed of
yourselves.
 
Conduct unbecoming all over
the fucking place!
 
And you’re the
leader, Sal.
 
You’re their sergeant.
 
And look at you.”
 
They all looked at Sal’s still long dick as
he slung off his condom.
 
“Caught with
your pants down again.
 
Just because
you’re
plains clothes vice detectives don’t make you above
the law!”

“Who says
we’re above the law, Tommy?” Sal wanted to know.
  
“We never said that!”

“You didn’t
have to say it,” Tommy responded.
 
“Your
actions said it.
 
All of you better be
glad I don’t fire your asses on the spot right now.
 
And the commissioner will back me up.”

“Yeah, in
more ways than one,” Sal responded.
 
“You’re always kissing his ass anyway.”

Sal would
never know how much that hurt Tommy.
 
He
didn’t know the extent of abuse Tommy suffered at the hands of their
father.
 
“Clean up your squad, Sergeant
Gabrini,” Tommy said, “or you and your men will be fired.
 
You won’t get another chance.
 
I guarantee you that.”
 
And Tommy left.

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