MOB BOSS 2 (18 page)

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Authors: Mallory Monroe

BOOK: MOB BOSS 2
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“Reno, save my son!” Marcy screamed, as she saw what Reno was doing.

“Nine,” Pags said as Reno lifted the vest from over his son’s head, pushed his son away, and fel on top of the vest.

And like the calm before the storm, everything went momentarily stil.

“Ten,” Pags said. “You lose, Reno.”

And then the explosion.

It wasn’t as big as they had expected it to be, but it was powerful enough to knock Trina, Tommy, Marcy, and most of the guards backwards and off of their feet. Trina, Tommy, and Sal

immediately looked at Reno. They knew he was gone. They knew a body on top of those kind of explosives could not possibly live.

But Reno, to his own shock, was fine. Above them al, he was perfectly fine.

Then they heard the low groan of agony. It was Marcy. She was crawling toward her son, who had been tossed, by Reno, against the wal. And it was immediately obvious that the boy was

stil wired, that the explosive vest wasn’t the detonation point, but the explosives inside of his shirt. Explosives they didn’t even know about. Chess, not checkers.

While his security team knocked down the bedroom door, only to find Pags with a self-inflicted bulet through his head, Reno sat on his haunches in disbelief. Staring at the dead child. Staring at

Marcy’s grief as she held him in her loving arms. He felt as if he was dreaming. This wasn’t happening. This couldn’t be happening. But it was. It was atonement, retribution, payback for al of his sins.

He stood up, stil staring at Marcy, stil staring at that dead child in her arms, a child that was supposed to be his but that he knew no better than he’d know a stranger on a street corner, and he

headed for the exit door.

Trina stood up too, staring at Reno, her eyes so stunned they couldn’t blink. When Reno walked up to her, he stopped by her side.

“Leave me,” he said with anguish in his voice, looking not at her, but straight ahead. “Please leave me.”

And then he left.

Tommy stood up too, puling a now crying Trina into his arms, his eyes stil fixated on Marcy and her deceased child.

Sal Luca folowed Reno.

But he could barely keep up. Reno had that swagger, had that kil or be kiled animal look that scared him. And he walked with that kind of purpose down the second floor corridor. By now

hotel guests were in the hal, terrified by the explosion, but Reno didn’t even see them. He ran down the back stairs again, ran until he was in the basement again, ran until he was down the hal and into the soundproof room where Paul Brown was being held.

Sal Luca had just come into the room as Reno walked up to Paul Brown, puled out a revolver, and shot the mob boss, mob style, between the eyes. He was dead instantaneously.

Reno then turned around and left.

Sal looked at Carmine, amazed. But Carmine immediately made a phone cal. “Get a cleanup crew down here now,” he ordered, ordered Sal out, and then locked the door.

FOURTEEN

Six months later

Lee Jones took the elevator to the thirtieth floor and entered the suite of offices that made up the office of the CEO. The executive secretary smiled as he walked up.

“Is she in?” he asked, a file folder dangling from his hand.

“She’s in,” the secretary said, “but she’s in a meeting.”

Lee hit his file against the side of his leg, his patience wearing thin. They had to get the position filed. He couldn’t go another night without a decision. “I’l wait,” he said and took a seat against the wal.

As he sat against the wal with his legs crossed and his head leaned back for nearly ten minutes, the office door finaly opened and Trina, along with two Japanese businessmen, stood at the

entranceway. Lee immediately stood to his feet. He was amazed at how wel Trina was handling the situation, how she had grown in a matter of a few months into her role perfectly. She even looked

the part, in her short, dark blue skirt suit, tailored to perfection against her busty body.

After promising to get back with the businessmen, and after they bowed and left, smiling at Lee as they did, Trina began to head out of the office.

“We need to talk, Trina,” Lee said as she stopped at her secretary’s desk.

“Is Wasserman stil waiting?” she asked her secretary.

“Yes, ma’am, he said he’d be in the casino.”

“Cal Stan. Tel him to find him now and get him in his office. I’m on my way.”

“Yes, ma’am,” the secretary said as she immediately picked up the phone.

Trina could only glance at Lee. “Helo Lee,” she said as she continued to walk. “I’m in a hurry, Lee.”

She was always in a hurry, he thought. Her way, he also figured, of coping. “We’ve got to make a decision,” Lee said, walking with her.

“How did it go last night?” she asked as they exited out of her suite of offices and headed for the private elevators.

“It went fine last night,” Lee said. “It goes fine every night. But that’s not the issue, Tree. We’ve got to make a decision.”

“And a decision wil be made. When Reno gets back he’l make it.”

“Tree,” Lee said, shaking his head. “Reno’s been gone for six months. If he was coming back he would have been back. He blames himself for that child’s death. You can’t live with guilt like

that over your head. He’s gone. Probably trying to start over somewhere by himself. He’s not coming back.”

Trina stared at Lee. Didn’t he realize what he was doing? Didn’t he see how he was snatching away the last piece of bark that kept her from drifting out to sea, from being swalowed up by the

raging sea? And the fact that he didn’t see it, or was so certain about what he was saying that it no longer mattered that he saw it, angered her. “Who do you think you’re talking to?” she asked him.

The elevator doors opened and the operator waited for them to get onboard. But they just stood there, staring at each other. Lee knew her anguish, he knew how badly she wanted her husband

back. But he also knew how badly they had to make a decision. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I was out of line. But Tree, when Amos Logan resigned rather than work under your command, you gave me

his job. You made me the new general manager. But I can’t be general manager and stil manage the Taffeta too. We have got to get a new manager on board.”

Trina placed her fingers to her forehead, the low grade headache she’d been nursing al day beginning to throb. She stepped onto the elevator. Lee folowed her.

“The casino, Wade.”

“Yes, ma’am,” the operator said and the doors closed them in.

Trina, at first, said nothing. Just took the nonstop ride in silence. Then she looked at Lee. He was right. He usualy was. “Do you have somebody in mind?”

“Yes. He’s over at the MGM Grand, but he’s ready to make a move.”

“Wil he come over on an interim basis? Until Reno can . . .In case Reno doesn’t like the pick?”

Lee shook his head. “No, Tree, he won’t. This guy is first rate. He’s not leaving MGM on a maybe. It has got to be a guarantee.”

“Of course you’re right.” She nodded. “Bring him to my office tomorrow morning. I’l talk to him. If I don’t see or hear any red flags, I’l go along with it.”

The elevator doors opened. “But I wil be as critical of him as Reno is of new managers, especialy if we plan to put him over at the Taffeta. So don’t promise him anything. Just an interview

with me.”

“Thanks, Tree,” Lee said as she stepped off and the elevator took him back up.

Trina hadn’t rounded the first corridor when she saw Jazz, standing over by the public elevators, talking with what appeared to be a male hotel guest. Trina shook her head. Hadn’t she learned

anything? She walked over to her.

As soon as Jazz saw her old friend coming, she immediately stood erect. “And we can discuss that matter tomorrow morning,” she said to the man she was just a second ago flirting with. The

man, taken aback by her sudden business-like tone, smiled. Until he saw Trina. Her supervisor, perhaps?

“Helo, Jazz,” Trina said.

“Hey, Tree, how you doing?” Jazz asked with a grand smile.

“May I speak with you for a moment?” It wasn’t exactly debatable since Trina was already moving away.

“Yeah, sure,” Jazz said, gave her male companion one of those
we’ll talk later
looks, and hurried to Trina’s side. “What’s up?” she asked.

“Yeah, sure,” Jazz said, gave her male companion one of those
we’ll talk later
looks, and hurried to Trina’s side. “What’s up?” she asked.

“You’re skating on thin ice, Jazz.”

Jazz frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Reno didn’t want to bring you back here. He said it was a bad idea al around. Lee Jones said the same thing. But they let you back because I wanted it. But I am teling you, Jazz, you had

better get your shit together or there won’t be a third time.”

“I got it together, what you mean by that? Just because you happened to catch me talking to somebody? What I can’t have an innocent conversation with a dude anymore?”

“Coming late to work, back talking Lee the way you’re right now back talking me, treating some of our customers with disrespect. If Reno was here he would have fired you already.” Then

Trina closed her eyes and opened them again. “Just don’t push your luck,” she said. “You’ve been given a golden opportunity. Tighten your shit and handle your business, Jazz, or you’re be out in the cold again.” Then Trina walked away.

Jazz stared at her as she left, as she sashayed her way along the corridor like some major big deal. Sometimes she felt like she hated that sister. It wasn’t her fault that her old man left her, why

was she taking it out on her? Now she walks around here like she’s the mighty Trina, like she’s the head nigger in charge. And just because her bed ain’t warm, she’s taking it al out on her. When she had nothing to do with it.

Then Jazz looked over at the male hotel guest who stil waited for her by the elevators. And she smiled, forgot about Trina, and hurried back to him.

Trina entered the massive PaLargio casino, the biggest money engine of the entire hotel, and headed toward Stan’s back office. She had yet another meeting with yet another investor and her

head was kiling her. But when she saw Jeffrey Graham walking the floor, doing his job as gaming supervisor, aka pit boss, with the high efficiency he was becoming known for, she smiled.

“Hey, Jeff, how’s it going?”

“Going great,” Jeffrey said, smiling too. “You look tired.”

“I am tired,” Trina said as she kept going. Jeffrey had amazed her. Instead of wanting favors or trying to worm his way into her bed after Reno left, he just did his job and got it done. Stan, his

boss, had nothing but great things to say about him.

After meeting with Stan and Wasserman, it was wel after ten. And she’d been on her feet, going and coming, since before six a.m. that morning. By the time she made it to the penthouse, and

had jumped in the shower, she could barely drag herself to bed. And as soon as her head hit the pilow, Reno, as he had done every night since the last night she saw him, dominated her thoughts.

He left after his son’s death, left blaming himself. Trina begged him not to go, she grabbed him and tried to hold him back, but he slung her off of him. He was bad news, he kept saying. He

wasn’t going to ruin her life or anybody else’s life ever again. And he left. Just walked right out.

Six months ago.

Tears appeared in Trina’s eyes just thinking about Reno. She missed him so much. At first she tried to search for him, but Tommy Gabrini told her not to, that he would make sure he didn’t

harm himself. “But you can’t hold him back,” Tommy also said. “He’l die if he stays. He has to go, he has to come to terms with himself, with what he’s done, he has to forgive himself before he can

accept anybody else’s forgiveness. Let him go, Trina,” Tommy had begged her. “If you love him, let him go.”

She loved him dearly, so she let him go. Carmine had been great, as he continued to close down Reno’s father’s ilegal businesses and run his legal ones. He’d been her biggest supporter. He

and Tommy.

She used to cal Tommy almost every week, just to hear him tel her that Reno was okay, but then she stopped doing even that. Reno was stil her husband, and she was stil his wife, and she

would give him time to heal, to make up his mind. It had already been six months, too long to her parents and to even Carmine. But they didn’t understand. She’d wait six years for Reno if she had to.

He was worth it.

She turned over, just thinking about how much he was worth it, how badly she missed him. Lee Jones had said that if Reno was coming back, he would have been back by now. And Lee was a

friend of Reno’s. He wasn’t trying to be harsh. He was just trying to get her to face facts. Your husband has left you, his words seemed to say. Move on with your life.

But how could she move on with her life, she wondered, the tears flowing more freely now, the ache deep within her no less painful after al these months, when her life was with Reno?

***

It was raining in Seattle as Reno locked up the restaurant for the night and jogged over to his Mercedes. It was the lone car stil in the parking lot and one of the few stil on the road. He drove

ploddingly, not superfast the way he used to be known for driving, because he no longer saw the virtue in rushing. What was there to rush about? Who was he rushing to?

In fact, the highlight of his day was usualy his drive home from work. It was usualy wel after midnight when he clocked off, and the streets were ghostly compared to how they had been earlier.

The sounds of silence helped him too. He found that he liked the silence, the peacefulness, the comfort in knowing that he could exist without living, that when he drove in the quietness of the early morning, he could just drive and concentrate on driving, and not have to feel a darn thing.

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