The Family Business (21 page)
Read The Family Business Online
Authors: Eric Pete,Carl Weber
“My job. After all, I am the family’s assassin, aren’t I?” I lowered my gun as I spoke. “Now, can you get the hell out of here so I can get my clothes back on?”
London
32
Twenty minutes into my shopping trip at Roosevelt Field Mall, I ditched my security. I just needed some time alone to think, without some hulking guy following my every step. I was still a little disappointed that Harris hadn’t taken me up on my offer to go to lunch. He didn’t have a clue he was doing it, but he was pushing me away, and Tony was standing right there with open arms to catch me when I fell. It wasn’t that I didn’t love Harris, but damn, can a girl get a little attention sometimes? Yes, I’d made a conscious decision to retire from my role in the business, but that didn’t mean I wanted to feel left out and alone. And that was how I felt when it came to Harris. Who could blame me for wanting to escape that type of life? And escape was just what I planned to do as I picked up my phone to call Tony.
“Hey, can I still take you up on your offer?”
“What offer?” he asked.
“You know, your no-strings-attached offer?”
“Oh, yeah!” The excitement in his voice was just what I needed for my self-esteem. “My offer still stands. Anytime you’d like.”
“Right now. I’ll meet you at the Marriott. I’m going to leave a key at the front desk for you.”
“I’m on my way,” he said.
I left the mall and hopped in a cab with my heart pounding. I’d been standing at the edge of infidelity for a while now, and I felt like I’d just jumped off.
Instead of meeting Tony at the bar, I’d decided to cut to the chase and meet him in a private suite. We were both grown. I knew a booty call when I made one; he knew a booty call when he received one. This was something I never dreamed I’d be doing once I walked down that aisle with Harris, but the deeper he got into the family business, the further apart we were drifting. I had to save myself before my bad marriage devoured any self-esteem I had left.
When Tony opened the door, I was already naked on the bed. You should have seen the expression on his face as he climbed next to me, looking like a kid in a candy shop. He barely spoke a word before he proceeded to rock my world.
He slid down the bed and took my foot in his hands, giving me a gentle massage. When he went to put my toes in his mouth, I almost stopped him. I’d never had anyone suck my toes before, nor did I think I’d ever want to, but once he started, not once did I think about telling him to stop. He kissed and sucked every inch of my skin from my toes to my kitty, and by the time he reached it, I’m sure the bed was soaked with my fluids. I’d had men go down on me before, but Tony took it to the next level. He licked and sucked until I came—multiple times. Finally, I was so sensitive down there that I pleaded with him to stop.
That wasn’t the end of it. He made his way up to my lips, and we kissed like we were teenagers. Before I knew it, I was pulling down his pants and admiring the biggest dick I’d ever seen. I guess the rumors were true about Italian men—they did have a little “brotha” in them.
“Your skin ... ,” Tony purred as he rubbed my arm. “It’s so soft.”
I put my hand on his dick, which was growing harder by the second. “Ummm, I can’t say the same about you,” I purred.
I was about to dive right into an ocean of lust as I stood over the hotel bed, looking down at Tony. He was waiting-waiting on me to dive right in and ride the wave—and I had every intention of doing just that. Before doubt or guilt could prevent me from engaging in the screw of a lifetime, I lowered myself on top of Tony. As I rocked back and forth, my wetness against him was like the water splashing up against the rocks on the shore.
As I popped my hips back and forth, I could feel Tony staring at me. At first it made me self-conscious, but then I was flattered. He couldn’t take his eyes off of me. What woman wouldn’t be turned on by a man who couldn’t dare turn away from her? So, the more he watched, the more I performed, rolling my hips like a tidal wave.
“Damn, baby. Slow down. I don’t wanna cum,” he pleaded.
I fell over on him, my hair surrounding his head, my hips still working his manhood out. “Isn’t that the whole point?”
“I mean I don’t want to cum yet,” he said, trying to muffle a moan.
“I wouldn’t be doing my job if I didn’t make you cum, baby,” I teased, slowing down and then speeding up again.
“Oh, you like to play, do you?” He grinned. “Then let’s play.”
Before I knew it, Tony had lifted me off of him and flipped me onto the bed, flat on my stomach. He spread my legs with his, then entered me.
“Ohhhh, Tony.” I couldn’t help but moan his name as he pumped into me.
He leaned down and whispered in my ear, “Say it again. Say my name. What’s my name?”
“Tony,” I whispered, totally turned on by his aggressive dominance. He thrust in and out of me, and I appreciated every inch of his well-endowed manhood.
“Again,” he ordered as he pumped faster and faster, each of us on the verge of a climax.
“Tony. Tony ...” By the third “Tony,” we’d both been wiped out as our wetness collided.
“Oh, baby girl.” Tony exhaled as he fell next to me on the bed. “You ...” He searched for words. “You’re incredible.”
“Hmmm, you think so?” I asked as I rested my head on his hairy chest.
“Yes. Trust me. I’m not lying when I say that was the best sex ever.”
“I beg to differ,” I teased. Before his ego could deflate, I said, “Because this right here”—I got up and mounted him yet again—“is the best sex ever.”
I placed him inside me, and we went at it once again. And again, until two hours later, we were both laid out, exhausted.
“I think you better go. It’s getting late,” Tony said, looking over at the clock on the nightstand.
“Oh, I see. You’re kicking me out. Got what you wanted and now you’re kicking me to the curb,” I joked.
“No, never that,” he said, kissing me on the forehead. “I just wouldn’t want the missus getting into any trouble with the mister. I heard what you said the other day on your phone call with him. Does he hit you?”
I immediately got up out of the bed. If I had a dick, it would have just gone limp.
“Hey, come here.” Tony gently pulled me against him. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to spoil the mood. But you deserve better, and for as long as you’ll let me, I’ll give you better.”
And just like that, he won me over, and I was leaning over to give him a deep, soulful kiss.
“Now, get on out of here. It’s getting late.” He smacked me on the ass and nudged me to go.
He was right. I needed to get going before Harris started blowing up my phone—or worse, before Daddy called. I took a quick shower and got dressed.
“Do you want me to walk you down?” Tony asked.
“Nahh. I’m good,” I said. I was already taking a big chance. The last thing I needed was to get spotted being escorted down from a hotel suite by some sexy-ass Italian guy.
“Oh, I know you’re good.” Tony smiled, still lying across the bed, looking like he belonged on the cover of a romance novel. “Now get. How many times do I have to tell you that?” He swished his hand as if scooting me out of the room.
“I’m going. I’m going.” I opened the door. “But I’ll be back.”
LC
33
“Rio’s plane is in the air.”
“Very good. Junior and I are at the warehouse now. I’ll call you later,” I told Harris and then ended the call.
So, Rio was on his way to California, and Junior and I were with six of our men, preparing to examine the hijacked truck and the dead bodies in the warehouse. Best-case scenario would be that the dead bodies were not Alejandro’s men, so that somehow we could avoid an all-out war. I’d been around long enough to know that war wouldn’t be good for any of us, especially Miguel and Rio, but I wasn’t holding out much hope.
“Carlos,” I said with open arms as I greeted the brother of my deceased friend Pablo. He was standing at the entrance to the building, flanked by two very large Dominicans, each holding a TEC-9 semiautomatic machine gun. “My deepest sympathy for your loss. Pablo was a good man and a good friend.”
“Thank you, LC,” Carlos said as he gave me a firm handshake. “You were a good friend to my brother. He talked about your many adventures in Asia.”
“Yeah, me and Pablo went way back,” I said. “He saved my life on more than one occasion, so I can promise you I will not rest until the people responsible for his death are wiped off the face of the earth.”
“I know this, LC, and my boys and I will help in any way we can.”
I glanced at the men carrying the TEC-9 handguns. They looked like they meant business, which was something I liked.
“So, with that being said, where are the men and the truck you found? It’s time we found out who we’re up against.”
“Right this way.” Carlos gestured with his arm and led the way down a corridor. Stopping in front of a large sliding steel door, he stepped aside and covered his nose with his hand. One of his men opened the door, and the odor hit us immediately.
“Holy shit,” I mumbled, taking one step in and another one back. The indescribable stench of death filled my nostrils.
“Yeah, the smell takes a little getting used to,” Carlos explained. “Try not to breathe through your nose.”
It took me a few moments, but I finally walked inside and was met with something that looked like a scene out of the St. Valentine’s Day Massacre. Blood and guts were splattered all over the cinder-block walls. Both men lay dead on the floor with their hands tied behind their backs, their bodies riddled with gunshot wounds. This wasn’t a shooting; it was an execution.
“Johnny, are these the men?” I waved over my guy who’d taken possession of the truck from Alejandro’s men.
He studied the bodies only briefly before declaring, “Yep, that’s them, all right. You can’t see his face too well anymore, but this one has that tattoo of a spider on his neck I was telling you about.”
“Son of a bitch,” I spat.
“You know what this means, don’t you, Pop?” Junior asked.
I ignored Junior’s stupidity, still focused on the two men before me. Of course I knew what it meant. It meant that son of a bitch Alejandro and his piece of shit son had been playing me all along. And to top that off, now they had Rio.
“Junior, I want you to get a hold of all the men loyal to us and have them meet us at the usual spot in three hours.”
Junior came closer and said under his breath, “So, what do we do now, Pop? We going to war?”
“I don’t think we have any choice, Junior. But we’re going to wait till Orlando and Paris get here. I need to know what Orlando got out of Miguel, and I have a job for your sister.” I checked my watch. “I texted them both before we left. They shoulda been here by now.”
The warehouse door creaked open. Every gun in the room was drawn and focused on Orlando as he walked into the room.
“Hold your fire! Hold your fire! That’s my son!” I shouted, my heart in my mouth at the thought that one trigger-happy finger could have lost me my son. “Orlando, where the hell have you been? I texted you almost two hours ago.”
“Sorry, Pop, but some stuff came up that I had to deal with,” he answered, seeming a little distracted. As he took in the bloody scene around him, he turned to me and said, “Jesus Christ. So, what’s the verdict? Are these Alejandro’s men?”
“They sure as hell are,” Junior answered.
Orlando acknowledged his brother’s words but turned to me for verification.
“It’s his men.” I nodded. “Johnny confirmed it.”
Orlando looked at the bodies again, and then at the truck. “You know, Pop, I’ve been thinking about something the entire ride up here. If these men hijacked the truck, then who shot them and stole the car?”
All heads turned to the first people on the scene: Carlos and his men. A few of Junior’s people even drew their guns.
“Put your damn guns away!” I shouted. “They didn’t have anything to do with this. They’re on our side. Can’t you see these men have been dead for at least a day?”
After a few seconds of silence, during which everyone got their tempers under control, Carlos spoke. “LC, I think my part here is done. We will leave you and your men to take care of your business.”
“Will you be there tonight?”
Carlos looked over at Junior and my men, then shook his head. “No, but when this war starts, I want you to know that as many of my men as you need are at your disposal. Just say the word.”
“I appreciate that and all you’ve done, Carlos.” I shook his hand before he and his men exited.
Junior turned to me and said, “I’ll put a team together, and we’ll be on the red-eye tonight, Pop. We’re gonna need all the intel we can get on Alejandro and his people. I’d like to take Paris, if you don’t mind. With her skills, she might be able to take out Alejandro with one shot.”
I still didn’t know how the hell I was going to tell their mother about Rio. Last thing I needed was more of my family on Alejandro’s turf.
“No, you’re staying here. I’ve already got a man on the ground out there.”
Orlando and Junior exchanged glances before they said in unison, “You do?”
“Yes, I do.” I didn’t elaborate, and they knew enough not to ask for more explanation. “Orlando,” I said, “I’m not totally convinced, but there might be some merit to what you said. These men didn’t shoot themselves, so what the hell happened here? Now, it could have been Alejandro trying to cover up his tracks. Or it could be there’s a third player in this little game that we don’t know about. What you two need to do is find out who killed these men, and that should lead us to the Roadster and my heroin.”
I turned to my men and instructed them to start removing the bodies.
“Ahh, Pop,” Orlando said, sounding nervous. “I know it’s not a good time to discuss it, but we have another problem.”
“What kind of problem?”
Orlando washed his hands down his face. He clearly did not want to speak up, and I knew that whatever it was, it was big.
“I asked you a question. What kind of problem?”
“Miguel.” He said it in a whisper, but to my ears it sounded like he was screaming at the top of his lungs. “He’s dead.”
His words almost brought me to my knees. “What?”
“I said Miguel is dead.”
My mind immediately went to Rio. I had sent him out to California, into the hands of a man who would undoubtedly kill him now. As if I had no control over them, my hands went right around Orlando’s throat. “What the hell did you do to him? Why did you kill that boy?” I was screaming like a madman.
Orlando grabbed my wrists, pulling them down until I had to relinquish my grip around his neck. He gasped for air. “I didn’t kill him! Your daughter did!”
For the second time I felt like the earth had dropped out from under me. I could only manage to mumble, “Paris?”
“Yes, Paris,” Orlando said angrily as he rubbed his throat. “I told you about her. We’ve all told you about her. She’s out of control, and now she’s killed Miguel, the only chip we had over Alejandro.”
“No, Orlando,” I said as I walked away in anger. “She didn’t just kill our only chip. She killed Alejandro’s only son. And she may as well have killed your brother Rio too.”
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