Deadly Embrace (34 page)

"Like what?"

"Sending the baby-sitter home when I need her."

"Why d'you need her, Beth?" he asked, barely able to contain his
anger.

" 'Cause I'm tired," she said, pouring herself a glass of
milk.

"Tough day at school?" he said, scrutinizing her face.

"As a matter of fact, yes."

"How come you got home so late tonight?"

"We have finals coming up. I've got to present my first collection
on paper." Her brown eyes sparkled. "It's so exciting. Next year I'll
be designing actual clothes." She took Madison from him and began
showering her with kisses. "What a
cute
baby.'" she said,
grinning. "Who's the
most
gorgeous little girl in the
world
?" Madison rewarded her with a gummy smile. "Guess what?"
Beth continued, hugging her baby. "
Daddy's
going to bathe you
tonight. Won't
that be fun
?"

"Can't," he said abruptly. "Gotta go out."

"You're kidding?"

"No. Gotta take care of business," he said evasively.

"You
know
I hate being here alone when Catherine's
away."

"
I
forgot."

"That's not fair."

"That's the way it goes, babe." A beat. "By the way, how was
school today?"

"You've asked me that already. And besides, it's not
school
, Michael," she replied, placing Madison in her bouncy
chair. "It's a fashion institute."

"Anything interesting happen?"

"Yeah," she teased. "I gave a blow job to three of my teachers. Is
that interesting enough for you?"

"Beth!" he said sharply. "Watch what you say."

She giggled. "You're such a prude!"

Nobody had ever called him
that
before.

"Well," she said, "I suppose that since you're deserting me, I'd
better get this little angel to bed."

"You do that," he said, simmering about her blow job comment.
Maybe that's exactly what she'd done with the jerk he'd seen her
leaving the institute with. His Beth with another man. He couldn't
take it.

She looked at him curiously. "Is something the matter,
Michael?"

"Why d'you think that?" he snapped.

"You seem kind of—pissed off."

"I was thinking," he said, regaining his composure. "I should meet
some of your friends. We could all go out for dinner one night."

"You wouldn't like them," she said quickly, dismissing the idea.
"They're not your kind of people."

"They're not my kind of people, but they're yours, huh? Is that
what you're tellin' me?"

"No, it's simply that I have something in common with them."

"And
I
don't."

"Michael," she said mockingly, "I didn't know
you
wanted to
start designing clothes, too."

He hated it when she came at him with attitude. "Hey, Beth," he
said coldly, "have a good evening. I'll see you."

"
Please
don't be late," she said, picking up Madison again.
"If you're very lucky, I'll wait up."

"Don't bother," he said, and left the house with no idea where he
was going; he only knew he had to get out before he exploded.

Tomorrow he'd confront her.

Tonight she could suffer—let her wonder what was wrong.

He ended up at the social club, hanging out with Gus.

Bone was still on the missing list. According to Gus, he hadn't
been around for several days. "He's probably trackin' a job for
Lucchese," Gus said when he asked. "Why you interested?"

"Who's interested?" Michael replied. "It's a pleasure not to look
at his ugly face."

"Yeah," Gus said, laughing. "He's a plain motherfucker."

"Where'd he get the scar on his cheek?"

"Told me his dad cut him when he was a kid."

"Then he's had it a long time?"

"Yup," Gus said, getting impatient. "Are we playin' poker, or
what?"

"Count me in."

There'd been too many shots of Jack Daniel's, he'd lost his ass at
poker, and on top of everything else he felt like crap.

When he got home he, was going to ask Beth what the fuck kind of
game she was playing. He'd had enough. If she was screwing around on
him, she'd better confess.

Then what?

Shit! Falling in love was not for weaklings.

All he really wanted to do was hold her in his arms and --stay
close. She was part of his life now, with her seductive smile and
sassy comebacks.

So was little Madison. His own daughter. His own flesh and
blood.

God! How he loved having her. It didn't even bother him that Beth
hadn't given birth to a boy. They had plenty of time.

Jeez! What was wrong with him? If he really thought about it, he
knew that Beth wouldn't screw around on him. She loved him and they
were planning on getting married.

He drove home slowly, wary of getting stopped by the cops. It was
2 a.m. and the street was deserted. He wished he'd spent the evening
at home, instead of losing money and setting tanked.

Fortunately there was a parking spot directly outside his house.
Walking up the front steps, he thought he heard a noise. A cat raced
past, startling him.

Tomorrow he'd have a monster hangover.

The porch light was out. Had to get that fixed.

Unsteadily, he put his key in the lock, deciding that he'd wake
Beth up and tell her how much he loved her.

As he walked inside, something or someone fell on top of him,
taking him completely by surprise.

He was on the ground, his mind fuddled, reaction slow.

Then he heard it. One single gunshot.

And everything turned to black.

"Stick together. Don't panic," Cole said, grim-faced. "Everyone
remember to keep your head down."

The hostages making the break with the robbers were gathered by
the back exit of the restaurant, cloths over their heads and down
past their waists. The gunman had made the men remove their ties in
the restaurant, then he'd tied -"line hostages together, making it
impossible for any of them to break loose. They were sweating and
nervous as he began herding them into place around him and his two
cohorts, making sure they'd be surrounded and couldn't be picked off
by sharpshooters.

"You're drivin'," he instructed Cole. "Everyone else in the
back."

"Where we heading?" Cole asked.

"You'll find out."

Madison wished that Natalie didn't have to go with them. She'd
feel much more secure if they could've left Natalie at the restaurant
with the others.

"When I say move—do it!" the ringleader said. "Any of you
giothafuckers get outta line, I got a bullet waitin'."

Madison prayed that the police would not attempt to do anything
foolish. She also hoped they'd sent a big enough van. What kind of a
joke would it be if they couldn't all fit inside?

As they reached the back door of the restaurant, the leader
spotted bright lights shining outside.

"Tell 'em to turn those fuckin' lights off." he yelled angrily at
Cole, "or we ain't comin' out."

"Turn the lights off!" Cole shouted, knowing that his voice would
make them think he was one of the bandits.

Nothing happened.

"Turn the lights off or we aren't coming out," Cole shouted a
second time.

A beat of three and the lights were switched off. Madison felt her
stomach turn over. This was such a perilous situation. What if the
keys weren't in the van? What if it didn't have a full tank of gas?
What if the police marksmen began shooting?

Anything was possible. She remembered a robbery that had taken
place in Beverly Hills a few years ago at a jewelry store on Rodeo
Drive. As soon as the hostages left the store and were in the parking
lot, gunfire had started. At least one of the hostages had been
killed.

The unruly procession, looking like one big giant moving tent,
began heading down the alleyway toward the van.

* * *

In the middle of the night, Sofia awoke from a violent nightmare. She
sat up, shivering and scared.

Gianni had tried to insist that she sleep in the bed and he would
take the couch. She'd uttered a firm no. "If I'm in your bed, you'll
get another room as soon as I'm asleep," she'd said accusingly. "And
that's not cool, 'cause I can't be alone tonight."

"Very well," Gianni had answered patiently. "I'll take the bed and
you
will sleep on the couch."

Now here it was, pitch black, and she was frightened. Ever since
she was a little girl she'd experienced nightmares. It probably had
something to do with the fact that her mom was always out working and
Vincent was never around because he was so much older than she and
was busy doing his own thing—which meant that most of the time
she was left alone with different baby-sitters. She'd never liked any
of them—they were always mean and nasty. There was one who was
particularly nasty, but she didn't care to go there.

She got off the couch, clad in a big white T-shirt Gianni had
loaned her. Then, tripping over a footstool, she made her way into
the bedroom.

Gianni was asleep in bed, a book propped in front of him, his
reading glasses halfway down his nose.

She removed the book and glasses. He didn't stir. Next she turned
the bedside light off and crawled into bed beside him.

Sometimes she was overcome with loneliness. It was as if there
were nobody in the world who cared about her. And yet, in spite of
their differences, she knew her mom cared, and Michael—in his
own way. And big brother Vincent, who'd always been very protective
of her. When she'd started dating as a teenager, he'd practically
killed one of the boys she was seeing.

"You're thirteen, too young to date," he'd warned her.

"I'm not too young to do anything," she'd answered back, realizing
it was impossible to lead a normal life with an overbearing brother
like Vincent watching her every move.

Actually, she'd always fancied Vincent's best friend, Nando. Sad
to say, Nando had never so much as glanced in her direction; she was
far too young for him to bother with.

She edged closer to Gianni. He wouldn't notice if she cuddled up
to him, would he?

And that's exactly what she did. She cuddled up to a man she'd
only known a couple of hours, spooned into his back, and fell into a
deep sleep.

* * *

Jolie had a special song that always put Nando in the right mood. A
combination of soul with just a ouch of rap—it was Usher's
"Good Gf Ghetto." The beat was perfect-slow and funky. And Usher's
raspy, sexy voice put
her
in the right mood for fun.

She went to her closet and removed the appropriate items of
clothing—a skimpy pink bandeau top and a short black rubber
skirt. Under the clothes she wore a crotchless thong, a
fronfcfastening nippleless bra, and thigh-high lace stockings. Shiny
leather boots and a gold coin on a chain around her neck completed
the look.

Living in a city jammed with strip clubs, lap dancers, naked
women, and lavish nude shows, Jolie had come up with the perfect
answer to keep her man happy at home, or at least try
to—because Nando was hardly the faithful type.

She shook out her long raven hair, spritzed Angel from head to
toe, switched on the Bose CD player, and entered the bedroom.

Nando was lying on the bed, hands behind his head, an anticipatory
grin on his face.

Attitude. She had it down as she swayed toward him, undulating her
hips to the throbbing beat, running her hands up and down her thighs,
thrusting her pelvis at him.

"Oh,
habeel
" he crooned. "Take ... it...
off
."

Slowly, in time to the music, she began peeling her top down.
Then, leaning over him, she encouraged him to unfasten her bra. Her
breasts tumbled out.

"Nice titties," he said, leering, as if it were the first time
he'd seen them.

They'd been married three years, and the sex still sizzled.

She grazed his mouth with her nipples, then pulled up her rubber
skirt and straddled him.

He was still fully dressed, so she dry-humped him in true lap
dancer style.

He enjoyed every minute, especially when she unzipped his fly and
gave him a memorable hand job. What a wife! She understood
everything. She especially understood that sometimes a man liked to
feel as if he were fourteen again.

When they were finished, he reached into his bedside drawer and
handed her a thousand bucks.

She took it.

"Cheap at the price," he "said, still grinning.

"I know," she said with a secret smile. "I'm thinking of raising
my rates."

"Get dressed, we're goin' out," he said.

"Where?"

"I'm takin' you to meet my future partners."

"What about Vincent?"

"Fuck him."

* * *

"Surprise," Michael said, greeting his son at the door.

"Jesus Christ!" Vincent exclaimed. "Where did
you
come
from?"

"Nice greeting."

"Why didn't you tell me you were coming?"

"Complicated story."

"Where's Mom?"

Dani emerged from the bedroom. She'd put on a pale blue shirt,
sleek black pants, and secured her long blond hair oti top of her
head.

Vincent was always struck by his mother's incandescent beauty.
Time had not dimmed her glow.

He often thought what a fool Michael was, not to have married her.
Whenever he asked
why
they hadn't gotten married, they both
came up with the same evasive answers.

It was stupid, because it was so blatantly obvious they belonged
together. Dani, who was usually so on top of everything, turned to
mush around Michael. And
he
treated
her
as if they'd
been married for years.

"Something not so good has happened," Michael said, clearing his
throat.

"What?" Vincent asked, immediately thinking it must be something
to do with Sofia.