Kingpin (An Italian Mafia Romance) (25 page)

“It’s not my mom, so there won’t be any yelling,” he kids before listening in to the call.

As soon as he puts the phone to his ear, I know something’s wrong. I don’t know who it is or what they’re saying, but I know it’s bothering Dominic. It’s not making him mad, though. From the looks of it, he’s scared, which terrifies me much more than his anger would’ve.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” he says into the phone. “Is he alive?”

I feel a strong chill run down my spine. Here it is—the other side of this beautiful thing we have. The ugly side I was hoping I wouldn’t have to see.

“Son of a fucking bitch,” Dominic says as his head lowers like a child being scolded. “I’m on my way.”

“What’s going on?” I ask as soon as he puts the phone on the table.

Dominic runs both of his hands over his face, steadying himself as the information he just received sinks in.

“Dominic, you’re scaring me. What’s going on?” I ask again.

“One of my guys got shot,” he says. I watch as his eyes begin to water and he fights back the tears. “My three closest friends were walking into a bar, and a truck drove by and started shooting. My friend, Tommy, was hit in the back twice. He’s in the hospital. I have to go, I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize,” I assure him. “Do what you’ve got to do. Go see your friend. I can take a cab home.”

“It’s okay, just come with me.”

I immediately start to think about what kind of characters might be at the hospital, and instantly know I don’t want to be there. I’m definitely not ready to meet anymore gangsters.

“No, it’s okay,” I say. “This is your thing, and I’d just rather go home.”

“Well, at least let me take you,” he pleads, but I want to be supportive. I want him to know I understand he has friends that I don’t know. Friends he’s known a long time, and I can tell from the tears in his eyes that this is serious.

“I’m fine, Dominic,” I insist. “Go check on your friend, I’m gonna take a cab home. Just let me know what’s going on as soon as you can, okay?”

He’s reluctant, but he nods his head. He pulls a wad of cash out of his pocket and places some on the table to pay for dinner, and then hands some to me.

“This is for the cab,” he says as he stands up. “I’m so sorry about this. I’m gonna call you as soon as I know he’s okay, then I’m gonna meet you at your house when I’m free. Is that okay?”

I force a smile.

“That’s perfect. Okay, now go.”

He leans over and kisses me softly on the lips, then he hurries out of the restaurant.

I wait for the waiter to acknowledge the money for the check and the tip, then I get up and make my way outside. I flag down a cab within a minute, and as I ride home, I feel frustratingly anxious. I hate this part of it—the wondering if he’s going to be okay or not. I hate trying to figure out if this is something mafia related, or if there are going to be more consequences for it. That’s two shootings in two days, yet Dominic insists this isn’t how his life usually is. Is it usually rainbows and butterflies? I highly doubt it.

So, when the cab pulls up to my apartment, I’m filled with anxiety and confusion. All I can do is go inside and wait to hear from him. With my nerves being on high alert like this, and my brain drawing its own scary conclusions, I hope I don’t have to wait long. I don’t think I can take much else.

Dominic

“W
here is he? I wanna see him.”

I run over to a group of people sitting in the waiting area of Mercy Hospital. My crew is there, as well as all the other capos in The Family, plus Tommy’s fiancé, who’s being consoled by Skinny Joe. Charlie sees me coming and cuts me off before I can force my way through doors I’m not supposed to go through.

“Hold on, Dominic,” Charlie pleads. His eyes are red like he’s been crying all night long, and he has blood on his shirt from when he sat with Tommy waiting for the ambulance. “He’s in surgery right now. The doc is trying to get the bullets out.”

I feel tears rushing to the surface, so I cover my face so no one can see me. Charlie knows it’s coming though, so he grabs me and forces me to hug him.

“He’s gonna be okay,” he tries to reassure me, but he doesn’t sound so confident himself.

“Fuck! How the fuck did this happen, Charlie?” I cry into his shoulder. Charlie pulls away and looks me in the eye.

“It all happened so fast, Dominic, I can barely believe it all,” he begins, wiping away his tears. “Me, Joe, and Tommy were walking to that little bar across the street from River City. We’d just crossed the road, and this black truck pulls out of the staff parking lot. We don’t think nothing of it, of course, until we reach the sidewalk and the truck slows down behind us. It’s back there creeping, so I turn around to see what the hell this guy’s doing, but the windows are tinted so I can’t see him. So, I grab Tommy’s attention and tell him to check it out, and as soon as Tommy starts to turn around, the window lowers and a hand comes out blasting away. There’s nothing we can do except run for cover, but Tommy gets hit and drops. As soon as Tommy hits the ground, the truck fucking speeds away.”

“Goddammit!”

“I don’t know, Dominic, the shit looked real fishy to me. It was like the guy in the truck was making sure we were who he was looking for before he started shooting. He was back there watching us as we walked. This wasn’t no random shooting, Dominic, I’m telling you. I fucking know it.”

My first thought is Abram Baskov. We don’t have beef with anybody else, so it had to have been him. He must’ve recognized Tommy from the sit down and thought he had to get him before Tommy came looking for him to avenge me, because Abram thinks I’m dead, thanks to Anthony. This motherfucker has more balls than I thought. This is what I get for underestimating him.

“Fuck,” I think aloud. “I bet it was that Russian cock sucker. I know it.”

“Yeah, that’s what me and Skinny were thinking. So, when do we go get this motherfucker, Dominic? First he puts a hit out on you, then he gets Tommy. This fucker has to die, now!”

“I know, and we’re gonna fucking get him,” I tell him, but I pause a second. “But we’re gonna wait until we here from Tommy’s doctor first.”

“Why the fuck would we do that?” Skinny Joe says as he approaches. His thin face is scrunched into an emotional, tear-filled expression. He looks like he’s on the verge of a full-on mental collapse. “This bitch shot at you, and then he actually shot Tommy. This is Tommy we’re talking about. Fucking
Tommy
! We go and kill this motherfucker right now!”

“Keep your fucking voice down,” I snip. “I know we need to go get him, but we’re gonna wait a minute, goddammit. We’re gonna wait until we hear Tommy’s okay. Once we know . . .”

“What the fuck did I tell you?” a voice says from behind me. I turn around to find Frankie glaring at me with his arms folded. He looks miserable, and the scar on his face makes miserable look terrifying. “I told you to handle this fucking Russian, didn’t I? I told you to take care of this, and this prick is still on the streets shooting at you and your crew. What the fuck, Dominic?”

I’m not really sure how to respond. There’s too many emotions to pick one, and it feels overwhelming, to say the least. I just stare at Frankie, who glares back like he’s utterly disappointed in me.

“I told you to fix this. Now, The Commission has to hear about a made guy actually getting gunned down in fucking public,” Frankie says, snarling. “We don’t let this shit happen to our people, Dominic. Why haven’t you fixed it yet?”

“I’ve been fixing it, Frankie,” I snip. My emotions are running high, and respect for the acting boss isn’t exactly a top priority right now. “We found and handled the shooter this morning, for your fucking information, and we were working to find Abram, he just found us first. What the fuck was I supposed to do?”

“And where were you when Tommy got shot, huh? You’re his captain, so where the fuck were you, Dominic?”

“I was having fucking dinner. What do you want from me?”

“Out with your fucking little girlfriend who nearly got
you
shot last time. Of fucking course.”

“What the fuck is your problem with me having dinner with a woman? This is ridiculous,” I bark. Everyone in the waiting area is starting to look at us, and I know I’m walking a thin line talking to Frankie this way, but I’m fed up right now.

“You’re distracted, Dominic, and it’s making it dangerous for everyone,” Frankie yells back. “When you’re off your fucking game because of some chick, and bullets start flying at our people, that’s a problem for everyone. Do you know what I’m saying?”

“You’re fucking married, Frankie! I go to dinner with a woman, and it’s the end of the world, but you being married is perfectly fine. That’s bullshit!”

“You better watch your mouth, Dominic. You’re in enough shit with Leo and The Commission, so I wouldn’t start burning any bridges right now.”

“You’re unbelievable.”

“Your father would’ve never let this happen to someone in his crew. If this was your dad’s crew, he wouldn’t even be here right now. He’d be out tracking this Abram fucker down, but you’re standing in here with tears in your eyes. I expected more out of you, Dominic.”

“And I expected you to be a better fucking boss, so I guess we’re both surprised at how fucked up everything has turned out,” I respond.

The whole room goes quiet. Even the people in the waiting area who aren’t with us are watching like we’re their personal soap opera.

Frankie glares at me with a look I’ve seen before. He’s fuming, and I know what he’s thinking. Frankie isn’t the guy you want to piss of, but then again, neither am I. I should probably apologize, though, because Frankie’s probably only days away from being officially named boss, but I’m emotional. Tommy is my guy, so I’m allowed to be upset too, but I know I’m going to have to fix things with Frankie soon, or I could end up getting clipped over this.

I try to catch my breath and calm down, but it’s easier said than done. Frankie looks furious, and I know I have to fix it.

“Look, Tommy just got shot, and I’m all fired up,” I begin. “I don’t mean no disrespect, Frankie. You know that. You’ve known me since I was a kid, and you’re like an uncle to me.”

Frankie cuts me off by turning his back and walking away.

I turn to Joe and Charlie, and the looks on their faces tells me they know what that means. I may have just royally fucked up. They look scared for me.

I think to follow Frankie to plead my case, but before I can, my phone rings. I look at the display, and I’m comforted by Alannah’s name. She’s probably worried to death about me, and I hadn’t had a chance to call her and tell her anything. Right now, I just want to hear her voice.

“Hi, beautiful,” I say when I pick up.

Then, everything stops.

“Oh, how fucking sweet, lover boy,” a deep voice replies.

A man’s voice.

Abram’s voice.

How does he have Alannah’s phone?

“What’s the matter? Surprised to hear from me, you fuck?” he says when I hesitate to speak.

“How do you have her phone?” I manage to say as my heart beats faster by the second, and tears blur my vision.

“How do you think, Dominic? Me and your little girlfriend are hanging out right now, and if you ever want to see little Miss Alannah again, I suggest you get your ass here to her house, right now. And you better be alone, or all that’ll be left of her is five little pieces of her hand.”

He hangs up, and my heart falls into my feet. I can barely breathe, and my skin feels like it’s on fire. Charlie and Joe stare at me, wondering what’s wrong, but I can’t tell them. I can’t risk Alannah’s life.

Abram has Alannah.

My body fills up with more fear and rage than I’ve ever felt, as I break into a full sprint towards the exit.

Dominic

O
ne gun tucked into my pants, another with a silencer in the holster under my jacket, plus a knife in my pants pocket.

I approach the house from the front, because I don’t want Abram to think I’m doing anything he needs to be suspicious of. I won’t risk him hurting Alannah, so I get out of my car and close the door loudly, like everything’s normal. I walk to the front door, and before I can knock, it opens all the way. Abram fucking Baskov greets me with a nine millimeter already pointed at my face.