Goddess of Vengeance (47 page)

‘Social outcast!’ she objected, stretching languorously. ‘It was
my
party.’

‘And you weren’t enjoying it one bit. Not until I came along. Admit it, Green Eyes, you were hiding out.’

‘True.’

‘But if you hadn’t been hiding, I wouldn’t’ve stumbled across you, and we wouldn’t be here together. Right?’

‘So right,’ she murmured, thinking about how happy she was to be with him.

‘You do know it’s way past midnight, so today’s your birthday,’ he stated. ‘Makes me pissed that I’m not going to be spending it with you.’

‘I wish you could,’ she responded. ‘But can you imagine everyone’s face if I turned up with like
you
by my side?’

‘I get it,’ Billy said. ‘Lucky an’ Lennie would throw a shit fit.’

‘You’re not wrong about that. And . . .’ she hesitated for a moment. ‘Venus is in town – I saw her earlier at Mood. She’ll probably be at my party.’

‘I saw her too. Ran into her outside the restaurant where Kev an’ I were eating.’

‘Kev’s with you?’

‘He came along for the ride. Don’t worry, he’s not gonna bother us, he’s got his instructions.’

‘It’s not that I don’t like him . . .’ she said tentatively.

‘Listen, Kev can be a big pain at times, but the thing about Kev is that he means well.’

‘Did you
speak
to Venus?’ Max asked curiously.

‘Briefly. She hates me now.’

‘She does?’

‘Divorce brings out the bitch in everyone.’

‘Y’know,’ Max mused, turning over, ‘Venus has been my mom’s best friend since I was a little kid.’

‘You’re
still
a little kid,’ he teased, lazily tickling her stomach, thinking how luminous and pretty she was with her olive skin and brilliant green eyes. She wasn’t just pretty, she was a beauty.

She squealed and rolled away from him.

He laughed and came after her, lowering his lean bronzed body on top of her, slowly moving inside her until she sighed with pleasure.

Now she realized what Cookie meant when she’d always carried on about how great it was doing the deed instead of holding back the main event.

Once again she realized she was glad she’d waited. Billy Melina was perfect, the birthday present of her dreams.

*   *   *

‘Where’s my little girl?’ Gerald M. suddenly demanded, glancing around the crowded table at Mood. He was drinking Jack Daniel’s and feeling no pain.

Frankie, who’d managed to insert himself between two buxom blondes, gave a casual shrug. ‘Dancin’ her ass off,’ he replied, although he had no idea where Cookie had vanished to, and he didn’t much care. The blondes had already invited him to their suite, and he had plans to go, maybe take along Gerald M. if he was so inclined.

‘Aren’t you supposed to be
with
my little girl?’ Gerald M. inquired, a belligerent look in his eyes. ‘She told me you drove here together.’

Cancel the blondes
, Frankie thought.
The dude’s just remembered he has a daughter.

‘That’s right,’ Frankie said, keeping it casual. ‘Only you know Cookie, she’s a girl who likes t’do her own thing. I wouldn’t want to hold her back.’

‘Go find her,’ Gerald M. said, scowling. ‘It’s late. I don’t like the idea of her wandering around on her own.’

‘I’m sure she’s fine,’ Frankie said, left eye twitching.

Gerald M. gave him the Big Star look – a look that said,
When I want something done – do it.

‘Yeah,’ Frankie said, reluctantly getting up. ‘Think I’ll go find her now.’

*   *   *

When Lucky was intent on doing something, there was nothing and no one capable of stopping her. She lived by her own rules, and her rules were stringent.
Never fuck with a Santangelo
said it all.

Armand Jordan was fucking with her, and she would not have it. Oh no, shooting his mouth off that he was buying The Keys might be a minor infraction to some people, but to Lucky it was out-and-out war. She would not allow the fool to go around saying such things. She would put a stop to it instantly.

She made her way down to the private Santangelo parking basement where she discovered the attendant was asleep on the job. Instead of waking him, she reached her arm inside his cubicle to the board of keys, and collected the ignition key for her Vegas car, a silver-blue Aston Martin, making a mental note to have the attendant fired the next morning, unless of course he had a wife and family – in which case she might reconsider.

It felt invigorating to be doing something about Armand Jordan. She hadn’t liked the man the moment he’d set foot in her office that morning. Bad vibes. Very bad vibes.

Damn Jeffrey, he should’ve known better than to put her in the same room with him. But Jeffrey was going through a divorce, he probably wasn’t thinking straight; divorces seemed to do that to people, even lawyers.

She drove her car up from the underground garage, adrenalin surging.

It didn’t matter that it was almost one in the morning. In fact, it added to the drama.

Armand Jordan was about to find out that nobody fucked with a Santangelo. Nobody.

Chapter Fifty-Five

R
andy Sorrentino clumsily hauled his big muscled body off the lounger and tried to get his brain around what he should wear. His drug delivery uniform – a light sports jacket over a maroon shirt and pants? Or should he go for more casual wear – such as his prized Guns N’ Roses sweatshirt from way back, and torn jeans?

Randy Sorrentino did not believe in rushing, he believed in taking his time. His mind worked slowly, so rushing didn’t do it for him. He liked to think things through before he left the safety of his apartment.

Earlier in the evening Luscious had informed him that she wouldn’t be dancing at Dirty Den’s tonight, instead she had a high-paying gig at The Cavendish Hotel, and she was taking along Seducta. Randy wasn’t sure whether the high-paying gig was for stripping or hooking. He hadn’t asked, he didn’t need the details. If his girlfriend wanted to open her legs and invite strangers in for money, it was all right with him. As long as she didn’t come trotting home with some other dude’s stink on her. In the porn business he’d learned a lot about protection and personal hygiene, and thoughtfully he’d passed all the info along to Luscious, who swore she always made the john use a condom.

The money she brought in helped. Eventually they might want to buy a house, or maybe get hitched and start a family. But that was way off in their future. Right now it was all about enjoying themselves, and if there was one thing Randy excelled at, it was enjoying himself.

He considered Luscious’s hurried words over the phone.
Get your ass over here, we got ourselves a live one.

That could mean anything. A live one as opposed to a dead body lying in a motel room. It had happened to Luscious several months ago. Some dude with a weak heart had expired beneath her. She’d called Randy in a panic, and he’d advised her to wipe the room clean and get the fuck out. Which she’d done. No ramifications there.

An’ bring the crack pipe, your piece, an’ your big old self.

Was this for a party? Or was he supposed to make a sale?

Randy didn’t like it when she called him old. He was only twenty-eight, and yeah, some people might consider him big – two hundred and thirty pounds of pure muscle – but he was also big in all the right places, something that had always helped him on his journey through life. It was the one thing he had over Mikey – a bigger hot rod that drove into female territory like a motherfucker.

Thinking of Mikey, he considered whether he should bring him in on this. He had to admit that Mikey was the brains of the family, and he was the brawn. So if – as Luscious had said –
We’re about to make us some
real
money
– wasn’t including Mikey the right thing to do?

Besides, Mikey was the one with the decent piece. A Glock semi-automatic pistol. And – even more important – he knew how to use it.

Yeah, Mikey was the man.

Randy pulled up his pants and reached for the phone to summon his big brother.

*   *   *

Slumped back on the couch, Armand’s mind was veering off in all different directions. He’d never combined alcohol and cocaine before – especially different kinds of alcohol. He’d had several tequila shots followed by limoncello chasers earlier at the hotel bar with Annabelle. Then he’d killed at least two bottles of champagne – Cristal – only the best for Armand. Now he was feeling quite disoriented.

The whores weren’t dancing, although the music continued loud and raucous, the harsh beat throbbing through Armand’s brain. One of the whores had fallen into a naked drunken stupor on the couch. She was snoring, her mouth open, her huge breasts flopping around.

‘What’s wrong with her?’ he muttered to the skinny whore, who for some unknown reason was standing by the bar holding a phone, her scrawny tattooed body quite nude.

‘Got someone on the way,’ she informed him. ‘Someone who’s gonna do whatever you need done.’ A crafty pause, then, ‘For a price, of course.’

For a price
, Armand digested her words.
For a price.

What was this someone supposed to do for a price?

Then he remembered. They were going to blow Lucky Santangelo’s brains out.

Yes, that was it.

And he would pay whatever it took.

*   *   *

Randy picked his brother up in his super-charged gold Dodge.

Mikey was standing outside his house, a sinister figure clad all in black, including oblique tinted sunglasses, which he wore day and night. Nobody ever saw Mikey without his shades, including Seducta, who’d once asked him to take them off and received a whack across the face for her trouble.

Mikey and Randy shared a mother, not a father. Mikey’s dad, a hardened criminal, was doing life in prison. While Randy’s dad – a former bodybuilder – sat at home picking up a disability pension.

Mikey was not big and tall like his younger brother, he was slight of build and less than five feet eight. To compensate he wore black snakeskin cowboy boots with three-inch semi-concealed heels, and a secret compartment where he stashed a six-inch hunting knife.

Whenever Randy and Mikey hit the town with their significant others, people always assumed that Mikey was with Luscious, and Seducta with Randy. They looked as if they belonged together, but of course this wasn’t so. Mikey had always gone for big girls, he had a thing about large tits. His preference was to wallow in their comforting warmth, and then come all over them. That was about as sexual as Mikey got. Unlike Randy, he was all business.

‘What’s this shit all about?’ he asked as he climbed into the passenger seat.

‘Sounds like it’s somethin’,’ Randy said, revving the engine. ‘Luscious wouldn’t steer us wrong.’

‘She’d better not,’ Mikey responded. ‘’Cause if she’s wasting my time I’m gonna slap her sideways till she can’t see straight.’

Chapter Fifty-Six

‘I
s this seat taken?’

Denver didn’t bother looking at the man who’d seated himself next to her at the Blackjack table. She was fed up with being hit on – enough was enough. Besides, she was doing very nicely, accumulating quite a tidy pile of chips. Gambling was actually fun, although if she was truthful with herself, she knew she would sooner be with Bobby.

She placed her next bet and waited patiently for the dealer to slide the cards.

The dealer did so – and Blackjack! She’d scored again.

‘Nice one,’ said the man seated beside her. She gave him a quick glance and realized it was Bobby.

‘Thank you,’ she said politely, acting as if they were total strangers.

‘You’re welcome,’ he said, playing along.

A paunchy man in a Hawaiian shirt sitting two seats away made a triumphant gesture with his thumb and mumbled something about her killing them. ‘This little lady is picking all my cards,’ he complained good-naturedly. ‘But she’s way too pretty to get mad at.’ He nodded at Bobby. ‘Maybe you’ll change the balance.’

‘I’ll try,’ Bobby said.

They played for fifteen more minutes until Denver finally lost a bet.