High Stakes (27 page)

Another man’s shadow moves in the house. “Yeah?”

“You keep your eyes on the door. I want that prick dead.”

“Got it.”

Fuck.

Richie slinks down the hall, his gun trained on me.

“Sit down next to her,” he barks at my mother, who balks at him.

“But—”

“Jesus fucking Christ—”

“All right!”

I bristle when she sits down next to me. Her large brown eyes stare at me beseechingly and I want to strangle her.

She set me up.

My own mother. I’ll never forgive her for this.

There’s no time to think about my rage. Right now, all I want to do is survive the day.

All of us tense as we hear a knock at the door.

Vince, no!

Richie jerks the gun at me. “You, go answer it. Don’t even think about running off.”

My legs somehow move towards the door, my shoulders tightened. I expect the door to blow open. I hope to God Vince figured it out. My palm falls over the doorknob and my fingers close around the brass. I twist it and it creaks open.

There’s no one.

I turn around to go back inside, but then I see him, crouched on the side of the house and aiming a gun—at me. I tense as he aims away and presses a long finger to his lips. My lips tremble as I sound out, “two.” He nods in understanding.

“There’s no one there.”

“Lying cunt,” the angry voice says behind me. “Cesare, come inside with your hands up, and I won’t kill your whore.”

Before I can move, his hand is wrapped around my throat and he pulls me back into his body.

“Get off me!”

Suddenly, there’s a sound of a crash in the kitchen. The man aiming his gun at the door, waiting for Vince to step aside, makes a jerking movement.

“Fuck. He’s not alone. Go check it out!” Rotting breath billows over my face. “You fucking stupid cunt. You tipped him off.”

His thumbs cut off my air. My windpipe feels like it’s being crushed.

There’s a banging noise in the kitchen, then a small series of
zwips.
A loud crash. Something heavy falls on the floor, shaking the apartment.

“Jesus, fuck!”

My mother screams from the kitchen. “He’s dead! He’s been shot!”

Good.

“Richie, I’m coming inside,” I hear his gravelly voice near the front door.

“No, Vincent! Don’t!” I scream.

“Shut the fuck up!”

Despite my pleas, Vince walks in with his hands held up, his slacks slightly wet from the snow outside. His expression is unreadable.

“Well, least I know Tony didn’t plan this,” he drawls. “You really didn’t think this hit through, did you?”

“Fuck Tony! I got her mother to bring her here!”

Vincent’s black gaze flashes in the direction of the kitchen, where my mother stands. His face twists.

“So what the fuck do you want, eh? What’s your plan, here? I have guys waiting outside for you to leave. You can leave here in one piece or you can leave in the back of my trunk. It’s your choice.”

“You almost killed my brother! And for what? This broad?”

“He disrespected me at one of my games and he threatened to kill me. I was well within my rights—”

“You think this is the end? The Vittorios are finished. You are on Tony’s hit list, pal.”

“Well, he came, he tried, and I’m still here. Even I never thought Tony would order a hit on all of us while we were surrounded by family, in such a public place. Slimy cocksucker.”

The hand around my throat tightens and I claw at the fingers.

“Let her go,” he growls again.

“Go fuck yourself.”

“There’s no way out, Richard.”

He’s closing my throat of air, shutting the flow of oxygen as I stare at Vince, wide-eyed. “Please.”

Richie shifts, pulling me in front of him as a human shield as he extends his arm with the gun. I scream as the gun fires. Something wet sprays all over my face and Richie’s body falls to the floor with a resolute thud. Vince steps over the threshold, his face a mask of fury. He raises his gun at the body.
Pop. Pop.
Two bullets sink into Richie’s chest. A third burns a black hole between his eyes.

Mom steps in the hallway and screams, mirroring the feelings boiling inside me.

“Nicky, get in here!”

The short man dashes inside. “Holy fuck,” he says as he almost stumbles over the body. “He’s from Jersey.”

Vince doesn’t speak a word; he strides into the kitchen and grabs my mother, who screams bloody murder. She falls to her knees in front of the body and he digs the nozzle of his gun in the back of her head.

“Fucking stupid bitch!”

No
.

A violent surge of disgust and loathing makes me bend over at the waist and retch. My knees dig into the hardwood floor as a pool of blood creeps towards me. Another body stains the floor. Like a brand, it sears into my mind. My memories can’t fade no matter how much I try to run away from them. His murder keeps coming back to me full circle. Another body lies on the hardwood floor of this house. My body wracks with sobs as Vince stands over my mother, preparing to kill her, too.

I don’t want her to die.

“
Please
, Vince.”

He gives me an incredulous look. “This bitch would have seen you killed if it meant she could save her own stinking skin.”

She’s still my mom.

His jaw sets. “I know she’s your mother, but she witnessed two murders. And we already know the depths of her loyalty.”

“I would never hurt my own daughter,” she screams through her tears.

“You would have helped kill the man I love! How is that not hurting me?”

I stare at her, my eyes hot as she blubbers and cries. Vince gives me an unhappy look as he slides the gun back into his waistband.

Nicky steps out of the bathroom and hands me a towel, dropping a garbage bag in front of me. “Put it in there when you’re done.”

I dab my face with the off-white towel and the sprinkling of blood peppers the fabric. Vince is on the phone, calling for help.

They need to get rid of two bodies. Somebody must have heard the gunshots.

His eyes smolder when they fall on my mother. She still sits on the floor, wiping her eyes.

“We’ll be watching you, Mrs. Baldino. If you talk to anyone, you’re dead. You will not talk to Adriana. If I find out you’ve attempted to contact her, I’ll put a bullet in your
fucking head
.”

My heart wrenches with grief when she looks at me, tears flooding her face.

“Adriana, please. My baby—don’t take away my girl!”

“She’s my girl, now.”

She makes an unnatural sound as he bends down and picks me up. “You’re dead to me, Mom. I don’t want to see you again,” my voice shakes with a sob and Vince’s arms wrap around me.

“No, Adriana!”

I walk through my old house for the last time, the sound of my mother’s crying fading away. It’s like a horrible, black cloud sits on my shoulders, and I’m not sure if it’s going to suffocate me or rise through the air.

* * *

Silence.

I hate the quiet. It’s suffocating. Despite the fact that I’m sitting next to the man responsible for the bodies soaking in the trunk, I feel like I’m the monster.

I can’t stomach it. My own mother. I should have let him kill her. A second later, the thought sickens me. Who the fuck am I?

There’s no one left who cares about me. Only him.

“Adriana, talk to me. Are you all right?”

Vince keeps giving me worried looks, like he’s afraid I might have lost my mind.

It’s possible.

“No, I’m not,” I say in a hoarse voice.

“You will be. I’m taking you to a safe house. The other guys’ wives are already there.”

So he’s leaving me there. I’m still numb. “Where are you going?”

“To another safe house while we try to make a deal with Tony. If not him, then his
capos.
I’m not sure they’re all thrilled about this war. The less you know, the better.”

As we drive by, I find myself wishing I was buried under the snow.

“I can’t believe she did that to me,” I say in a reedy voice that disgusts me.

Don’t fucking cry.

He squeezes my hand. “At least now you know the truth. We found out who your dad owed those debts to. The Rizzos.” His voice rises sharply. “I knew those FBI cocksuckers were lying. I’ll ask Jack about it, see what he knows.”

I blink as tears bead on my eyelashes. I didn’t even think about that yet. All of it seems so far away, now. I’m still staggering from my mother’s betrayal. Tears keep falling, and I turn my head so that he can’t see.

“You’re not alone, Adriana. You’ll always have me.”

His hand tightens over mine until the grip is almost painful. I’m not sure he’s enough. I can’t just survive off one person.

“How’s your mom?”

He exhales a long breath. “Still recovering. She’ll be there, too.”

The car grinds to a halt in front of an unassuming house in the suburbs of Long Island. Vince inclines his head. “They’re in there.”

He looks at me with a grim expression, and I realize this might be the last time I see him.

I launch myself towards the driver’s seat. My arms wrap around his neck as he lets out a grunt. I screw up my face against his chest. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry for what?”

I cringe as he strokes the side of my face. I don’t deserve his kindness. “I almost got you killed.”

“That bastard was going to come after me one way or another. At least you tipped me off. My clever little thief.”

I’m such an asshole. All those times he pleaded with me to stay put, and I didn’t listen to him. He’s always been there for me when it counted. He’s always cared for me. Why did it take me so long to see it?

He tips my head back and kisses me. It may be for the last time, so I pull his face closer to mine when his burning lips touch mine. My hands sweep around his shoulders and bury themselves in his fine hair. Then I reach down, touching his chest, his abs, the firm muscles hardening as my palm sweeps over them. His mouth crashes against mine before he holds me back, his mouth parted and his face flushed.

“This isn’t goodbye.”

“Please don’t take any stupid risks. You’re all I have now.”

The desperation in my voice makes me feel pathetic. I suck in my breath as he kisses the tears from my face.

“Go inside.”

Fresh tears slide down my face. “Bye.” I open the door and run towards the door, knocking furiously as Vince watches me across the street.

A red-eyed Carmela opens the door. She doesn’t blink as she looks at my tear-stained face. She stands back and opens the door. I turn around and wave at Vince, and he drives off. Something goes through me as I watch him go. A silent howl.

“Come on.”

My attention tears back to the house. It’s a stale, musty place with moth-eaten furniture and chipping paint. I hear low voices in the kitchen as Carmela closes the door. To my surprise, she pulls me into a fierce hug.

“Adriana, I’m so glad you’re okay.”

Her voice sounds like she’s on the verge of tears. Who can blame her, really?

“I’m not really sure I’m okay. How’s Jack?”

Not that I care.

She pulls back, blinking rapidly. “He’s going to be fine. He needs to spend a couple weeks under observation.”

“Thank God.”

She sniffs and dabs at her eyes with a piece of tissue. “Let’s go in the kitchen. Gloria will be happy to see you.”

Who?

I walk two steps inside the kitchen before I hear a scream. I tense all over, thinking of gunfire and bodies—

“Adriana! Oh my God!” Mrs. Cesare crashes into me and seizes my middle, hugging me so hard that I think I might pass out. “How’s my son? Is he okay?”

“He’s fine. He just brought me here.”

A scowl forms over her face. “And he didn’t even come in to say hi?”

“Mrs. Cesare, it’s dangerous for him to be out with everything happening.”

Her fingers dig into my skin. “Those
mezzo fanooks
. I can’t sleep at night. My sister’s kids are dead.”

There are four other women sitting around the kitchen table, and I recognize Nicky’s wife as she looks at me from the table with a pity filled gaze.

“We’ll have another engagement party for you.”

“We’ll host it at my house,” Mrs. Cesare says as she unhooks her arms from around my middle.

Engagement parties are the last things on my mind. “Thanks, but I don’t think I really want one anymore.”

Her eyes slowly fill with tears, and then she excuses herself, running towards the bathroom. I watch her leave in alarm.

“What did I say?”

Stefani waves her hand. “Never you mind. She’s been crying all day off and on. I don’t blame you for wanting out.”

Is that what she thought I meant? The wives look at me with varying degrees of pity and disappointment. “I didn’t mean that, it’s just I don’t really feel like celebrating what with everything that happened. There are more important things.”

“Adriana, you only get married once. Who is your maid of honor?”

I swallow hard. Truthfully, I haven’t thought of it. Do I even want to get married? “Maria, probably. But I don’t know if she’ll even want to after everything.”

“Vince is a great man. We’ve never seen him be so taken with anyone.” Another woman speaks up, her black hair pinned in a beehive. Like Carmela, she looks like she’s been through hell. There’s a sad, resigned look on her face. “Though, you’ll have to prepare yourself for reality.”

“What do you mean?”

“After you’re married, Vince will probably get a
comare
.”

What’s that?

She gives me a pitying look. “A mistress.”

“What?” I laugh as they all look at me with sympathetic faces. “Vince wouldn’t do that. He would never hurt me. He loves me.”

They smile at me as if I’m a naive little girl.

Is it true? Am I resigned to a life of this—hiding while wondering if the man I love is going to make it in one piece, making sure his dinner is made while he fucks mistresses on the side? A surge of emotions fill my chest.

I don’t want that.

Unable to remain in their presence any longer, I leave the room and retreat upstairs where I hear Mrs. Cesare stifled sobs. I find a room to myself and lock the door. Sitting on the dusty floor, I hug my knees and think.