MOB BOSS 2 (4 page)

Jeffrey smiled, wanted to kiss her. “You have made me a very happy man,” he said, knowing that Katrina Hathaway always kept her word. “Oh,” he said, thinking of something. “What do I cal

you? What’s your last name now?”

“Gabrini,” she said proudly. “Katrina Gabrini.”

“Wel, thank-you, Mrs. Gabrini,” Jeffrey said with a smile. “Thank-you.”

And Trina had to smile, too, because Reno was screaming those very words this morning, as he pounded her.

THREE

The Gabrini family’s east coast compound was located in Somers Point, New Jersey, some eighteen miles southwest of Atlantic City, and was barely visible from the street. The massive security

gates, manned by men with guns and dogs, opened electronicaly and the limo carrying Reno and his brother-in-law Carmine Rossi, a man he used to cal his cousin when they were kids, made its way to

the back of the property, where the actual home stood. Ritchie, Reno’s other brother-in-law, a muscular young man everybody caled Dirty, met the limo at the front door. When Reno stepped out, the

two men hugged.

“How’s Ma?” Reno asked him.

Dirty shook his head. “She’s Ma. One minute she’s fine, talking good sense, getting along with the people. The next minute she’s al mad and frustrated, talking about how Pop’s gonna kick our

asses when he gets back. We say, ‘Ma, Pop’s dead, you know that.’ She looks up at us, with those big blues, you know, but she don’t see nothing. Just look. She’s in and out. She’s Ma.”

Reno exhaled, looked around. “I see security’s beefed up,” he said, buttoning his suit coat and glancing around at the numerous armed guards around the compound. “That’s good. You done

good, Dirty. You done good, Carmine!” he yeled across his shoulder as Carmine came around from the other side of the limo and stood beside him. Both men looked up to Reno, and both were

thriled he was there, to give them some direction. They weren’t accustomed to being in charge, and neither felt completely comfortable with the role.

Reno walked through the double doors and down the long, marbled hal that led into the massive gathering room. He saw his mother on the sofa, plump and plain, seated as if she was stil in

mourning, and his two sisters, MarBeth and Francine, seated on either side of her. They, too, looked up to Reno, and when he stepped down into the room, both MarBeth and Francine ran to him. He

hugged them both.

“Frank Partanna’s dead, Reno!” MarBeth proclaimed and Carmine, MarBeth’s husband, roled his eyes.

“What you teling him that for?” Carmine asked in his heavy New Jersey accent. “You think you know and Reno doesn’t? Seriously? Gees, MarBeth!”

“I was just talking to my brother,” MarBeth shot back. “Can I talk to my brother for two seconds without my husband blowing a gasket? Gees, Carmine!”

Reno moved away from both of them, as the ridiculous argument continued, and leaned down on his haunches in front of his mother. “Hey, Ma, how you doing?” he asked her.

His mother, Bele Gabrini, ran her wrinkled hand through his thick hair. “You have good hair,” she said to him, her voice husky, strained. “Not like Joey. Joey never had nice hair. Always

blown out too far. Joey got big hair. You got nice hair.”

“We keep teling her Joey’s dead like Pa, but she ignores us,” Francine said. Reno ignored her.

“Taking your medicine, Ma?” he asked his mother.

“What medicine?”

“For the high blood pressure. The doctor prescribed it for you, after Pop died.”

His mother dismissed him with a wave of her hand. “Doctors. What do they know?”

“She taking her medication, MarBeth?” Reno glanced back and asked his sister.

“She’s taking it when she’l take it.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Just what I said, Reno. She takes it through the week, the weekends not so much. That’s just Ma.”

“But that blood pressure’s nothing to fuck around with, MarBeth,” Reno warned. “She has to take it every day. And I want you and Franny to make sure she takes it every day.” He stood up.

Nobody in the family disputed Reno, but MarBeth tended to give him the hardest time.

“We’re doing our best, okay?” she said. “Pop ain’t here no-more to handle Ma. She ain’t used to taking orders from us, okay?”

“We’re like prisoners here, Reno,” Francine said like the wining younger sibling she sometimes could be. “Carmine and Dirty, they won’t let us go anywhere.”

“And you ain’t going nowhere,” Reno shot back. “Not yet anyway. Did Ma at least take her medicine today?” Reno asked. He realy hated coming around his family. He felt as if he had to

micromanage everything whenever he was around them, and he was no micromanager. But they were so needy, so quick to drop the bal and expect him to pick it back up for them, that they often

proved exhausting. And now with his father out of the frame, he knew it was only going to get worst.

“She took it today,” MarBeth said. “I make no promises for tomorrow, but today she took it.”

The butler came into the room, spoke to Reno, and whispered something in Dirty’s ear. Dirty smiled and folowed the butler out of the room.

“What’s that about?” Reno asked Carmine.

Carmine shook his head. “I don’t know,” Carmine said. “Do you know, Francine?”

“Do I know what?”

“What Dirty’s up to?”

“How should I know what Dirty’s up to? Dirty don’t tel me a thing about his business. He says it’s
his
business.”

Reno sat next to his mother, leaning back in a slouched position, taking her hand. He was more tired than he thought he was. Of al his family members, she worried him the most. “Why don’t

you go and lay down, Ma, get you a little nap? You’l feel better.”

“I feel fine. But you, you don’t look so good, Dominic. What’s that woman doing to you?”

This response threw Reno. He hadn’t told his mother, and forbad Carmine and Dirty to tel her, that he married Trina. He didn’t want to overload her with too many changes too fast. “What

woman?” he asked her, to be clear. You never could assume where his mother’s progressing dementia was concerned.

“That black woman you bought here that time. Whatshername? Your father caled her Hot Chocolate, but I know that can’t be her name.”

“Her name’s Katrina,” Reno said, his heart aching for her just by saying that name.

“Yeah, that one. Hazel Eyes. She not treating you right, Dominic?”

“She’s treating me just fine, Ma.”

“I don’t think she’s treating you right. You need an Italian girl. They know how to treat a man.”

“Yeah, Ma, sure,” Reno said, patting her hand. And just as he patted that hand, Dirty entered the room with an Italian girl. Only this one wasn’t some figment of his mother’s imagination, but

was a woman Reno always bedded whenever he was in Jersey. A few times he even flew her out to Vegas, to the PaLargio, to fuck her.

Dirty was grinning ear to ear. “Look who I dredged up, Reno,” he said, unable to contain his glee. “Sophie Toreneli.”

“Hi, Reno,” Sophie said, coming toward him. She was a tal, bosomy Italian, with long, slick black hair, a smal, pretty face, and a very curvaceous body. A body Reno couldn’t help but scan as

he stood to greet her.

“Sophie, how you doing?” he asked her as she came into his arms. It was not unusual for this to happen. But this time Reno puled back from her.

Sophie was surprised by the pul back, but she continued to smile. “You look good, Reno.”

“Good?” his mother said, suddenly irritated. “He looks awful. What good? Listen to her if you want.”

Dirty smiled. “Don’t mind, Ma,” he said. “She’s just tired. Aren’t you tired, Ma?”

“I’m not tired, what’s with the tired? Dominic’s tired.”

“I’ve missed you, Reno,” Sophie said, running her hands through his hair.

Reno, however, suddenly seemed awkward. He looked at Dirty, an odd expression on his face.

“When Dirty told me you were coming,” Sophia continued, “I couldn’t wait to see you again. It’s been a while, Reno.”

“Yeah, wel,” Reno said, removing her hands from his hair. “Can I see you for a moment, Dirt?” he asked his brother-in-law. Then he asked her to excuse him, and headed for the study.

When they were in the study, the double doors closed, Reno frowned. “What the hel just happened?”

Dirty was puzzled. “What you mean what happened? I got Sophie for you like I always do when we’re in Jersey. You like Sophie, you told me so yourself.”

“I like Sophie, I like Tophie, I like Lophie, I liked them al before I met Trina, you idiot! Now I don’t give a fuck about any of them, Dirty, you had to know that. Remember Trina? Katrina?

My
wife
? The one I just married?”

Dirty was stil confused. “But I thought--”

“But you thought what?”

“But I thought she was just a ruse, your marrying her I mean. An alibi for you when the feds come to question you about Partanna’s death. I thought she was just your cover, Reno.”

Reno frowned. “My cover? You thought Trina was my cover?”

“Yes! How was I to know you meant it?”

Reno shook his head. “Get rid of her,” he said, heading for the desk in the study, “and get Carmine in here.”

Now Dirty was dumbstruck. “You mean you aren’t gonna . . . You know.”

Reno looked at him. “What?”

“You aren’t gonna poke her, Reno, you know what I’m trying to say over here.”

Reno roled his eyes. “No, Dirt, I’m not gonna do anything with any female but my wife. Understand that? Got it?”

“I got it.”

“Dig it?”

“It’s dug.”

“Get rid of her.”

Dirty exhaled. Stared at Reno.

“What is it now?”

“Since you aren’t . . . I mean, since you don’t want her anymore . . . you think I can have a crack at her?”

Reno couldn’t believe it. “What are you, an imbecile? You’re married to my kid sister you idiot! You think I’m giving you permission to cheat on my kid sister? You think I won’t cut off your

bals and hang them around your neck if you even think about cheating on my kid sister?”

Dirty quickly smiled. “I was just joking, Reno,” he said, backing up, “honest I was. You know I wouldn’t dream of cheating on Francine. I was just seeing what you was gonna say, that’s al.”

“Get the fuck out of my face,” Reno said with a frown.

Dirty hurried out, he practicaly ran out. And got rid of Sophie.

***

Jeffrey stood up too, saddened to see their reunion end so quickly. Not that he stood a chance with her anymore. He knew he didn’t. She was now married to the owner of the PaLargio. How

in the world could he, or any other regular guy for that matter, compete against that? But damn did she look good, even better than she used to look. And fine as wine, he also noticed as he began

walking with her across the street.

“I realy appreciate what you’re doing for me, Tree,” he said, “I realy do.”

“I realy appreciate what you’re doing for me, Tree,” he said, “I realy do.”

Trina glanced at him, her eyes squinting in the sun. “Sure you’re going to be able to handle it this time?”

He smiled, but she could stil see some uncertainty in his smile, maybe even fear. “I told you I’ve been clean and sober for damn near two years now. Ain’t no way I’m going back to that.”

“But you’re going to be back in the bright lights and the big city,” she said. “And if you thought Reno, Nevada was bad with the partying scene, Vegas is even worst, J. At least here in Dale

you’re living a good, clean life.”

“Yeah, a good, clean, broke-ass life,” he said to laughter. “I’m just looking for another chance, you know? I messed up in Reno. I know I did. I lost a good woman,” he said this as he looked

down the length of Trina, “and even worst, I lost a good friend.”

“You haven’t lost a friend, J,” Trina admitted. “I’l never be your woman again, but I’l always be your friend. We go back a long way, and many times you were there for me when I needed

you most. Hel yeah I’m gonna be there for you.”

Jeffrey frowned. “About that night, Tree, when we had our blow up, I’m sorry. I was as wrong as I could be.”

Trina almost smiled. He hit her with his fist, true enough, but she hit him back, not only with her fist but with a hammer, a lamp, her shoe, a book, anything she could get her hands on, hitting him

so hard that he nearly passed out. By the time she was finished with Jeffrey he was sliding backwards on his butt and begging for mercy. That was a bad night, one of the worst of her life, but even he would have to admit she got the better of that exchange.

“Apology accepted,” she said. Then she smiled. “Just don’t even try it again.”

He laughed. “Don’t worry. Besides, I’m wiling to bet your rich husband would not approve if any man raises his hand to you.”

Trina thought about another ex-boyfriend and how Reno ran him out of town at gunpoint. “Oh, I think you’l win that bet,” she said with al sincerity.

“Where have you been?” her mother asked as she and Jeffrey made their way up to her buggy. “I’ve been waiting out here for ages.”

Trina and Jeff exchanged smiles.

“Who’s he?” Earnestine asked.

“Jeffrey Graham,” Trina said. “You remember.”

“Jeffrey Graham? That’s Jeffrey Graham? He was a little skinny thing, a stick of a man, not this big, fine, muscular man here.”

Trina was amazed by her mother’s appraisal of Jeff’s physique. “Yes, mother, this if Jeff Graham. You knew him when we were in school together. He buffed up years ago.” Jeffrey laughed.

“How you doing, Mrs. Hathaway?” he said.

“I’m doing better than most. Especialy on days when this arthritis leaves me alone.”

Before her mother could go on and on about her numerous ailments, Trina said her goodbyes to Jeffrey, piled the few bags of groceries into the backseat of her father’s SUV, put her mother