Men of Mayhem Read online

  “I’m not,” he said, shaking his head back and forth.

  “So you’re telling me if I had you pee in a cup, it’d come back clean?”

  “Fuck you.” He jumped to his feet, and the chair fell backward, clacking against the floor. Contempt slithered across his face. “What I do in my free time is none of your business. If I want to do a few lines or get drunk, I’ll do it. The family doesn’t own me. You don’t own me and Dominick sure as hell doesn’t own me.”

  Before I could even reach for my gun, Tony Red had his out. I held up my hand to stop him, but he didn’t even glance in my direction before he shot him.

  Tommy’s body tumbled to the ground with a large thud. His head bounced on the floor like a ball. Blood stained the front of his white shirt. His dark eyes stared sightlessly at the ceiling.

  I wiped a splatter of blood on my cheek with the back of my hand. “Tony, what the hell? Do you realize what you just did? We weren’t supposed to kill him.”

  Tony shoved his gun into the holster hidden inside of his suit. “I’ve been patient, but I couldn’t take it anymore. He mentioned him. He disrespected you. He skimmed money, and I was sick of him talking to us like we’re a bunch of jerk-offs. If you get in trouble from the higher ups, you can pin this on me. I don’t care. He deserved to die.”

  I ran my hands through my hair as my mind searched for a way out of this mess. Dominick wouldn’t like that Tommy ended up dead. If we explained the situation, he’d probably think Tony was justified, but it reflected poorly on me that I couldn’t control my soldiers. “Carlo, go out the side door and pull the car around. Tony will carry out the body.”

  “What are we going to do with him?” Carlo asked.

  I threw the plastic bag of cocaine on top of Tommy’s body. “Dump his body along with the drugs on the street in the Bronx. Make the police believe it was a drug deal gone bad.”

  Carlo folded his arms across his chest. “What are you going to do?”

  “Clean up this fucking mess.” I gestured to the door. “Now move, before this blows up in our face.”

  Evangeline

  Exhausted, cold, and beyond pissed off were the only words to describe how I felt when I yanked on the exit door to Gian’s nightclub, and it didn’t budge. I walked to the corner of the building and watched the people laughing, talking, hugging, and stumbling as they left the nightclub.

  Leaning against the brick wall, I brushed strands of my hair away from my face and tipped my head to the sky. Things like this only happened to me. I must have done some seriously bad stuff in my previous life to deserve my non-stop run of back luck, or maybe it meant I needed to suck it up, pack my bags, and move home.

  Resigned to waiting until the full hour expired to go back inside, I closed my eyes. An air conditioning unit thrummed somewhere in the shadows. I shivered. The early summer air had grown damp and clammy since I’d sent the taxi driver away almost an hour ago after exchanging phone numbers. He’d been surprisingly accommodating.

  Less than thirty seconds later, I heard the swish of the side door as someone pushed it open. A dark-haired man in a pinstriped suit kicked a wooden wedge under the bottom of the door and jogged down the street.

  I didn’t waste a second. When he turned the corner, I shimmied through the opening, careful not to disturb the wedge. I slipped off my heels so I wouldn’t make any noise and tiptoed across the hall. The door to Gian’s office was cracked. I paused by the entrance, listening for voices. First came the low rumble of Gian’s voice followed by a muffled voice I didn’t recognize.

  With one hand balanced on the doorjamb, I leaned forward and peeked inside. Unlike the bright overhead fluorescent lights in the hallway, Gian’s office was dimly lit. When my eyes adjusted to the light, I saw a man with his arms and his legs spread wide on the floor, a dark liquid stained the front of his shirt. I leaned forward another inch. The man looked vacant, pale, and his eyes were fixed and unblinking. Then, reality slapped me in the face. He was dead.

  An involuntary gasp tumbled from my mouth. My heart exploded in my chest and my knees buckled. I reached for the wall to stop my fall and my shoes slipped out of my grasp, clattering onto the floor.

  My head jerked up, and my gaze collided with Gian’s. His golden eyes looked like the fires of hell. He stared at me, his face a blank mask as long seconds ticked by. I shook my head trying to clear my foggy brain and backpedaled a few steps. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to intrude. I forgot my purse, but I’ll come back later.”

  “Evangeline, come in here. We need to talk,” he said, his voice hard and forceful.

  I swallowed the lump lodged in my throat. “I have to go.”

  He lunged forward and I ran, but I only made it a few steps before his arms closed around my waist. My muscles tensed, and adrenaline surged through my body. My heart fluttered erratically inside my chest. My arms flailed wildly through the air like a wounded animal. I donkey-kicked backward, and he grunted. Within seconds, he whirled me around and pinned me to the wall. The bass from the music in the club vibrated the drywall.

  “Let go of me,” I hissed through gritted teeth, ignoring the stomach-turning cocktail of anger and fear swirling inside of me.

  “Listen,” he seethed. “You need to shut the fuck up and do everything I say, or you will end up at the bottom of the Hudson River.”

  I sucked in a breath. “My friends know I’m here. They’re waiting right outside for me. They’ll call the cops if I don’t come out in a few minutes.” I choked back a sob.

  “You’re lying.”

  I forced my gaze to the floor so he couldn’t see my eyes. “You don’t know that.”

  His body curved over mine, his dark eyes imprisoning me and my shoulders slumped. “I won’t hurt you,” he whispered, his lips brushing against my earlobe. I squeezed my eyes, hating the equal measures of lust and terror churning inside my gut like a tornado. “But I can’t promise my associates won’t hurt you unless you play along right now.”

  Tears burned the corners of my eyes. “How? What do you want me to do?”

  His thumb brushed over my lower lip, and I struggled to take a breath. “You can start by painting a smile on your face and acting like you’re not afraid of me.”

  Every instinct told me to fight. My mind circled through a dozen or more escape plans, all with equally horrific endings. “How do I know I can trust you?” I said softly.

  “You don’t, but you don’t have any bargaining power right now.”

  “I won’t tell anyone about this, not even Carmela. Just let me go and we’ll never see each other again.”

  His mouth flattened. “No.”

  The pads of his fingers brushed over my nipples, and pleasure zigzagged through my body. Damn my body.

  “I hate you,” I whispered, glaring daggers at him.

  “Get over it.”

  A click sounded behind us.

  “Put down the fucking gun, Tony. You’re not killing my fiancée tonight,” Gian said, without turning around.

  My eyes widened, and he captured my ear between his teeth. “Follow my lead.” He spun around and enveloped me in a one-armed embrace.

  Gian’s friend didn’t say a word as he inspected me like a wad of gum on the bottom of his shoe. “This chick is really your fiancée?”

  “Yes. Why the fuck would I lie?”

  The man whistled as he slipped his gun back inside his jacket. “Fuck, Gian. When the hell did this happen? Why didn’t you tell anyone?”

  “Evangeline is a friend of Carmela’s.” Gian smiled. “You know how she is. She’d kick my ass if she thought I came within a mile of any of her friends.”

  “Yeah, you’re right about that. Carmela is a firecracker.” The man chuckled as he held out his hand. “I’m Tony.”

  I didn’t make a move to shake his hand, but then Gian squeezed my shoulder, and gave me a minute shake of his head. I caved.

  “Nice to meet you,” I said, my voice as shaky as my hands. />
  “What the fuck is going on?” a man shouted behind us. “Who the hell is she?”

  The man who propped open the door charged down the hall with his gun drawn. Gian shoved me behind him.

  “Carlo,” Gian said through clenched teeth. “Don’t point a gun at my fiancée.”

  Carlo’s eyebrows snapped together. “Why is she back here?”

  “The door was propped open,” I muttered.

  “You left the door open?” Gian’s body vibrated with barely restrained rage.

  Carlo shrugged, his gaze roving down to my thighs and back up. “I didn’t think anyone would be dumb enough to sneak inside.”

  “Exactly,” Gian countered, his voice icy. “You didn’t think. Carlo, help Tony and Sal wrap up the body and get it out of here. I have shit to do.”

  “We’re ready to go, and Sal cleaned up your office,” Tony answered.

  “Call me when it’s done.”

  Gian guided me into his office. “Sit,” he said, gesturing to the sofa.

  I plopped down and buried my head in my hands. “What do we do now?”

  “We go to Carmela’s house and pack your bags. You’re moving in with me.”

  I lifted my head. “No fucking way. I don’t know you. I don’t want to know you.”

  “Sorry, sweetheart.” He twisted my hair around his finger and I shivered. “Until I know I can trust you, and I can convince everyone else to trust you, you’re going to be living with me as my fiancée. It’s the only way to keep you safe.”

  Sweetheart? What decade is this? And why do I like him calling me that? What is wrong with me?

  I wouldn’t call myself a feminist or anything. I liked a man who opened an occasional door for me and picked up the tab after a nice meal. Lord knew, I wished Kevin had done more of those things when we were together instead of acting like a self-absorbed asshole.

  I lowered my lashes and tugged on the hem of my skirt. My nerves were fraught and I couldn’t speak, so I stared unblinking for a prolonged beat. “How does pretending I’m your fiancée do anything?”

  “That’s the way things work in my world. As long as you’re my fiancée, no one will touch you. When things calm down, we can both get back to our lives, and this will all be forgotten.”

  I bit my lower lip to stop myself from crying. “I don’t get it. Why are you doing this? Why do you care what happens to me?”

  Exhaling, he scrubbed his hand down his face. His eyes darkened like a storm was brewing inside of him, but the emotion disappeared almost instantly. “Because you’re important to my sister.”

  I focused on the tiny threads in my skirt as I tried to comprehend everything that had happened. “What are we going to tell Carmela?”

  He loosened his tie and opened the top two buttons on his shirt. Reaching out, he gently brushed his fingertips along my cheek. “That it was love at first sight or that we’ve been seeing each other secretly for a while.”

  I shook my head even as my face heated. “She won’t believe us.”

  He managed a faint smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. I couldn’t get a good read on this man. “It’s your job to make her believe, sweetheart.”

  “Fine. I’ll do my best.” I squared my shoulders, pretending to be strong even as fear and hopelessness raged through me. I needed to find a way out of this mess.

  Grabbing my purse, he dropped it on my lap. “Let’s go before she goes to bed.”

  As I rose to my feet, I fleetingly wished I had the power to transport myself back in time to the moment before I injured my ankle. I would’ve walked off the stage before I jumped. I would’ve broken up with Kevin, and I would’ve stayed far away from Gianluca Trassato. Too bad wishing and hoping were useless. Instead, I followed Gian out of the building feeling more alone than ever.

  The End

  About the Author

  After spending years practicing law and a million other random things, Lisa decided to pursue her dream of becoming a writer, and she must confess that inventing characters is so much more fun than writing contracts and legal briefs.

  The conclusion of Gian

  Coming Spring 2016

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  Code of Silence

  J.L. Drake

  Thirty-Five Years Ago

  Stacy

  From the moment I laid eyes on the six–foot-three, brown-haired man who walked into the diner that Sunday morning, I knew he wasn’t from around here. A man like that stuck out. His broad shoulders had the guy next to him shifting down a stool so they didn’t have to touch. I nodded at Jack, who was about to serve him, to let him know I had it. I removed the pen from my ear, pulled out my note pad, and strolled over.

  “Hi there, what can I get you?”

  He closed his eyes as he rubbed his temples. “Just coffee.”

  “Coming right up.” I turned to pick up the coffee pot and checked out his reflection in the glass. He cursed quietly as he looked at his phone while I poured the dark brew and slid the mug over. “Here ya are.”

  “Thanks.” He yawned, and his head remained down. Friendly.

  I tapped my pointer finger on the counter. “My name is Stacy. If you need anything, just call.”

  “Yeah,” he grunted as he rubbed his head again. I reached under the counter and grabbed my purse, then took out my Tylenol and clicked the bottle down in front of him.

  My other customers waited, so I moved over to them and took their orders. After I got them situated and went back, he was gone. Under my pill bottle was a twenty.

  “Jack?” I called. He poked his head from behind the divider. “Did you see where that guy went? His bill was only a dollar, but…” I held up the twenty.

  “Nice! He left about five minutes ago. Looked like he was hung over or something.”

  The rest of my shift went quickly, and I never thought about the guy again until I left to walk the ten blocks to my tiny apartment, thinking of the twenty he had left me. Soon after that, I was passed out on the bed.

  Mondays were slow, like ‘jam a fork in your eye’ slow. There were only so many times a person could fill the salt shakers and restock the shelves. Jack’s radio pumped Cindy Lauper, and I sang along as I dried a glass.

  “Excuse me?” A voice broke into my song. I turned to find the man from yesterday in the same seat as before. I hopped off the counter and made my way over.

  “Coffee, right?”

  This time he stared right at me. My Lord, his eyes were a soft melty brown, like caramel with a light honey swirl. He gave me a tight smile. “Can I order pancakes along with it…please?”

  “Coming right up.” I handed Jack the slip, and he gave me a little wink.

  “Stacy, right?” he asked, then cleared his throat. I gave a little nod as I poured his coffee. “Charlie, nice to meet you.”

  “It is,” I stated. “Can I ask you something, Charlie?”

  “Sure.” He ripped a piece of paper and started to fold the edges down.

  I replaced the pot and looked right at him. “Where are you from?”

  “Phoenix.”

  “So what brought you to Nashville?”

  He continued to fold the paper even smaller. I watched in fascination for a few moments before he spoke. “Just felt like a drive.”

  Two guys came and sat at the other end of the counter. I recognized Will and sighed inwardly. “Stace!” Will called out as he took a seat. “French toast with extra whipped cream and lots of chocolate sprinkles. Thanks, doll.”

  Charlie looked up at me, then over to the guys. “Friends of yours?”

  “No.” I sighed as I scribbled Will’s order. “Let me get your food.”

  “Thank you.” He kept his eyes on the guys, who were loudl
y talking.

  I placed Charlie’s plate in front of him, then headed to give Will his.

  “Can I get you anything else?” I asked. As a reply, Will snagged my hand, pulled me forward, and dabbed my neck with whipped cream. “Will,” I sighed, “please don’t start today.”

  “Oh, come on.” He smiled. “I’m just playin’. You want me to clean it off for you?” He wiggled his eyebrows.

  “Stacy?” Charlie looked unimpressed. “Could I get another refill?”

  “Yeah,” I called out, but Will caught my arm.

  “Who’s he?”

  “A customer.” I looked down at his grip and felt my patience wear thin. “Do you mind?”

  He slowly let go but stared at Charlie like a bull checking out his next rider. I pulled the pot free from its stand and forced a smile at Charlie.

  “How are the pancakes?”

  “Great, thanks.” He pushed his empty plate aside and sipped his coffee. I noticed he’d made a little origami bird. Sweet.

  “So are you sticking around here for a bit?” I didn’t know why I asked. There was just something about him that interested me.

  He tensed but then rolled his neck as if to relieve the tension. “Not sure yet.”

  “Well, I hope to see you around.” He glanced up at me, his eyes unreadable, but I knew with a guy like that there was more to his story then he’d ever let on. That was fine with me. All I cared about was that I made enough money to leave this damn town. I pulled out his bill and placed it next to him. “Stick around if you’d like.”

  He studied the bill. “This should be eleven sixty. Why is it free?”

  I kept my back to him as I rang up Will’s order. “You left too much yesterday.”

  “It was a tip—”

  “It was too large,” I interrupted.

  “That’s not for you to decide.”

  “I beg to differ.”