Sweet Vengeance (39 page)

As
a second hand reached up and took hold of the metal rack, she shrank back.  Her
heart thumped a deafening beat.  

Where
could she go now?

Before
she had a chance to act, the face belonging to the hands peeked up and another
barrage of shots echoed through the building.  Their gazes connected.  A
strange, unnerving feeling glazed over her, one that any hunted animal would
feel.  Her instincts kicked in.  Without thinking, she shoved the heavy
television box with both hands.

The
weight pushed against the man, but he didn't fall.  He glared at her, grabbing
for a metal bar above him.  No.  Another dose of adrenaline kicked in, and
Allie heaved the box with all her might, sending the TV and the man backward
into the air. 

"Bitch,"
he yelled as he fell. 

She
cringed as several boxes hit the ground with a shattering thud amidst the
sounds of continuing gunfire.  A second later, a bullet pinged off the steel
rack near her.  Then another. 

She
had to get off that damn rack.  Now.  She scrambled across the tops of the
boxes until she reached the opposite edge.  She took a quick look down.  No one
was in this aisle. 

Without
hesitating, she scrambled down the side of the boxes and dropped to the floor
below.  Shots rang out from every direction, but for the moment, no one had her
in his sights. 

She
hurried to the far end of the aisle, checked for assailants and slipped around
the corner.  At the next corner, she glanced down the aisle.  A pile of
obliterated TVs lay amidst the remnants of cardboard boxes and an unmoving
body.  There was no one else around.  The other shooter had disappeared. 

She
cautiously hurried toward the young, dark-haired man partially buried by the
ruble, praying she'd find a weapon.  The mobster was unconscious, but still
breathing.  She rolled him to the side and then said a silent prayer of
thanks.  A handgun sat tucked inside his waistband.  Thank God.  She grabbed
it, checked the magazine for bullets to make sure it was loaded and crept
toward the only way out of the warehouse.  Her odds weren't good, either way,
but she preferred to go down fighting rather than hiding in a corner. 

With
her weapon out and ready, she made it to the end of the aisle.  She peeked at
the intersection, and her heart nearly choked her.  Bones Trasatti had his
weapon trained on the back of Jase's neck, forcing him to walk forward.

Jase
spotted her before Bones did and jerked.  Bones caught his reaction and spied
Allie.  A cruel smile spread across his face.  "Miss Jordan.  We meet
again."

Allie
swallowed.

"Run,
Allie," Jase said, his eyes pleading for her to save herself.

"I
wouldn't do that."  Bones shoved the gun harder against Jase's skull. 
"Not unless you want him dead."

Bones
was right.  She couldn't leave Jase to die.  Allie raised her weapon. 
"Let him go, and I'll let you live."

Bones
laughed.  "Oh, come on now.  What are you going to do, shoot me?  You'll
miss and end up hitting your lover."  He laughed again.

"No,
Allie.  Just leave."  Jase's voice was frantic.

Her
heart beat wildly, but her hands were steady.  "Don't make me pull the
trigger.  Put your weapon on the floor and step away."

That
set off Bones.  "You're fucking crazy."  His gaze turned maniacal. 
"You're going to give me that recorder right now or he dies." 

She
raised her weapon higher, putting Bones in her sights.  She'd have one shot to
take him down.  If she missed or only wounded him, he'd probably kill Jase. 
She swallowed a healthy dose of fear.  She was an expert marksman and this was
her chance to end it.

Bones
narrowed his eyes.  "I'm not going to ask again." 

Allie
squeezed the trigger. 

Adrenaline
flooded her veins as the shot rang out.  Bones stumbled back from Jase and
fell. 

Jase's
jaw dropped open.  He blinked.  He looked down at the mobster's slumped form
and then back at Allie as though he couldn't believe she'd killed Bones
Trasatti.  The small trickle of blood coming from Bones' forehead grew larger. 
Jase bent over and retrieved the mobster's gun.

Allie
looked away from the carnage she'd created.  She'd just killed a man.  A wave
of nausea swept over her, but she managed to keep herself together.

Jase
hurried toward her and crushed her in a quick embrace.  "That was
stupid."  He gripped her arm and pulled her to the end of the aisle where
she could see Cates crouching behind the back of Max's car.  She couldn't see
any other Trasatti men.

Cates
indicated with a nod that he'd located their position. 

"Come
on, get down, out of sight.  Cates will cover that side of us." 

Allie
did as she was told.  She wasn't sure she had any fight left in her.

Jase
kept his gun trained down the aisle, watching for would-be assailants.  None
came.

A
minute later, the warehouse flooded with cops, and shortly after that, the
Trasatti men surrendered.

Just
like that, it was over.

"You
shouldn't have risked your life for me," Jase said as he helped her to her
feet.  He searched her eyes, his gaze filled with concern as he ran his fingers
over her cheek.  "I didn't know you were that good of a shot."

She
couldn't believe they'd both made it out alive.  "I told you I could take
care of myself."  Her voice echoed with a hollow note.  "And you,
too."

Jase
didn't give her a chance to say anything else.  He wrapped his arms around her
as his lips found hers.  His kiss was desperate, frantic.  He covered her face
with kisses and then held her until an officer approached.  The cop moved
passed them to where the dead mobster lay, and he kneeled down, checking for a pulse.

"God,
Allie."  Jase pulled back, his face pale, his expression shaken. 
"You scared the hell out of me.  What were you thinking, coming here with
Max?"

"I
didn't want to.  Max forced me."  She inhaled a shaky, but calmer breath. 
"You left and didn't come back."  She touched his face, grateful to
be in his arms again.  "Why?" 

"Cates. 
He had me brought in for questioning."

She
shook her head.  Did Cates realize the problems he'd caused?  "He promised
he'd hold off."

Jase
snorted.  "He didn't.  But we figured out what had happened, and we came
here together."

Allie's
bottom lip trembled.  "I'm sorry I didn't wait for you."

"No." 
Jase cupped her chin.  "I'm sorry I left you alone."  He kissed her
again, long and hard. 

Allie
pulled back, remembering.  "Jase.  The recording."  The one thing
everyone wanted.

He
shook his head.  "I don’t know where it is, and I don't care.  You're
safe.  I just want to take you home."  He tried to pull her close, but she
wouldn't let him.

"No,
you don't understand."  She reached into her bra and pulled out the
evidence that would hopefully put her and Jase's unsettled pasts to rest. 
"I have it."

A
mask of disbelief fell over Jase's face.  "You found it?" he
whispered.

"I
did."  She tried to smile, happy she could give him that gift.

"Allie. 
Do you know what this means?"

She
nodded, tears of relief rushing to the surface.  "It means the Trasatti
family will finally pay."  And she and Jase would be free from the
violence that tainted their worlds.

He
nodded, taking the recorder from her.  He glanced to where an EMT bent over
Tommy Trasatti's dead body.  "Let's see Franco Trasatti try to get out of
this one." 

He
stopped and looked at her.  "But I meant what I said.  I'm done with
this."  He gestured toward the recorder.  "I hope whatever's on here
smothers them, but if it doesn't—"  He shrugged.  "Doesn't matter. 
I'm done."

She
nodded and smiled through her tears.

As
they neared the front of the building, Allie saw an older man sitting in a
chair, handcuffed.

"Franco
Trasatti."  Jase answered her question.

He
looked so old and pitiful to Allie, but she knew he'd brought a lot of pain
into this world and she had no sympathy.

Cates
joined them, a jubilant smile on his face.  "Tell me there's really a
recording, Miss Jordan."

Allie
wanted to be as happy as Cates, but it was hard considering she'd just shot a
man.  "Tommy Trasatti paid with his life for it, but yes, there's a
recording." 

Jase
handed the recorder to Cates, and Allie caught the older Trasatti watching
them.  Cates turned to Franco with the evidence in his hand, and Franco
blanched. 

"You're
going down," the cop said.

*       
*        *

Hours
later, after giving a lengthy statement at the police station, Sergeant Cates
let Jase take Allie home.  Jase opened the door to his penthouse suite, but
before she could enter, he scooped her up and carried her across the threshold.

Allie
laughed.  "We're not newlyweds."

Once
inside, he set her down.  "Not yet."  A serious glint sparkled in his
eye and tightened her throat.

"Are
you asking me to marry you?"

He
grinned then.  "Not now.  Not like this."  He placed a fat kiss on
her lips.  "But you never know what tomorrow will bring."

His
declaration left her speechless, and her surprise only seemed to bring him more
pleasure.  "What, Allie?  I love you.  I intend to spend the rest of my
life with you if you'll have me."

Random
thoughts flitted through her mind, and none of them helped her form a coherent
message.  "Wow."  She inhaled and focused on his eyes.  "It's so
hard to wrap my mind around the fact that it's actually over.  I couldn't
picture a time when you wouldn't be after the Trasattis.  You were always so
bent on revenge.  I never thought the day would come."

"That's
in the past, Allie.  And from what I hear, there should be enough on that
recording to bring down the whole organization.  Not only did Joey record
Winslow's murder, but he had snatches of other conversations from months
prior.  Conversations between Franco Trasatti and other important members that
would tie them to numerous crimes."

"But
not to your family's murder."

A
heartbreaking look crossed his face.  "No.  They'll never be tried for
those crimes.  Not unless they confess."

"What
about the man serving the sentence for them?  Shouldn't he be set free?"

"He
was a criminal, anyway.  It would have only been a matter of time before he
killed someone, if he hadn't already.  Hard to feel sorry for the guy.  He took
the payoff in exchange for his freedom."

Allie
gave him a sad smile, feeling a little melancholy.  "So much violence.  So
much pain."  She wrapped her arms around Jase's neck, pressing her head
against his chest.  "I killed another man today."  The thought
weighed heavily on her.

"Another?"

She
captured his gaze.  "Yes, I know you lied to me about killing that guy six
years ago.  You said he didn't die."

"How
did you find out?"

"I
researched some newspaper archives about a year ago.  I found an article
reporting fatalities from the shootout that day at your warehouse.  I'll never
forget his face." 

"Yeah,"
he said, holding her close.  "I wanted to spare you the pain."

"I
know."  She paused.  "Thank you."  She glanced out Jase's huge
windows to the fading Chicago skyline.  Lights twinkled in the high rise
buildings as the night took over the city.  Soon it would be time to sleep, and
tomorrow would be another day.  A better day.

"I
love you, Jase."

"I
love you, too, Allie."

Jase
scooped her up once again and carried her into his darkened bedroom.  There was
no need for words.  No need to hurry.  They had the rest of their lives ahead
of them to enjoy each other.

Hours
later, Allie lay in Jase's protective arms, happier than she ever thought she
could be.  Ambient light from the still-busy city bathed his bedroom with a
soft glow.

"Are
you asleep?"  Jase's voice echoed through the quiet room.

She
snuggled closer to him.  "No.  I can't sleep.  It must be from all the
craziness of the day."

"Yeah,
maybe."  His tone seemed off, maybe a little troubled. 

She
caressed his chest with her fingertips, trying to erase the feeling that
something wasn't quite right.  "You okay?  You sound kind of sad.  Are you
thinking about your family?"

He
gave a small laugh.  "I guess you could say that."

She
rolled, slipping her thigh between his, enjoying the feel of his skin against
hers.  She studied his face in the semi-darkness.  "Are you having a hard
time with the memories?"