Mobster's Angel (Mobster Series) (6 page)

Clarissa shouts to me
, and I see her reaching for me over the throng of people.  Her face is panicked. I’m being stepped on.  The pain of shoes imprinting their marks on my legs increases my terror.  Someone’s boot crushes my hand, and I shriek in pain.  A pointy dress shoe kicks me in my rib cage.  Someone’s knee crashes into my head.  I’m stunned.  I roll over and try to push myself up, but I can’t get my footing.  As soon as I try, someone pushes me down.  It’s tough to breathe.  I’m being crushed.

Clarissa is wedged in
the crowd, unable to get to me.  I can see her from my horrifying position on the floor, but there seem to be miles between us.  We stare at each other, deathly afraid.

My hand goes to my head because it throbs.  My legs are twisted beneath me.  Another person falls and lands on my back.  I yelp in pain and feel my back bend awkwardly.
After all I have been through and endured, I’m going to be a nightclub statistic.  Joey’s training didn’t prepare me for this: getting trampled wasn’t in the curriculum.

Clarissa’s face changes.  She looks oddly
happy.  Two hands wrap around my waist, and I am hoisted up.  The crowd moves, and I am pushed to the exit.  People move aside for my captor.

“Don’t worry Erin, I’m going to get you out of here
.” A voice travels to my ear. 

Brice!
What is he doing here?

For t
he century I was on the floor, it is only seconds before I’m outside in the night air.  My breath rattles in my chest, not sure if it wants in or out. I pant uncontrollably.  Brice sets me down, but doesn’t let me go.  He forcibly puts me into a car.
He rips open the car door in front of him and
I clip the top of my head on the door jam, but he doesn’t apologize. I begin to worry.

I lift my head.
I’m in Brice’s limousine. As it hastily zooms away from the club, I’m thrown against the back seat.  Brice sits across from me.

“What about Clarissa?!” I choke out
, fear and panic still rampant through my veins.

“Joey will get to her,” he says with n
o emotion.  His face changes, he grins and his eyes darken.

“You’re a hard woman to get alone,” he offers and trails his eyes down to my lap.

I glance down and my dress is wrapped high and tight around my thighs, almost to my hips.  My legs are covered in smudges, scuffs, and darkening bruises.  I shift quickly and pull the dress down as far as it will go to cover myself.

This is wrong!
  My conscience screeches painfully in the back of my skull. 
Something is off!
  My mind tells me.

“Would you care for a drink?” he asks, with fake cordiality.

He holds up a cut crystal glass with a dark liquid sloshing inside.  “You must be thirsty after that mess.”

An unsecured drink!  Don’t touch it!
Now Vito is in my head.

“No, thank you,” I say on
the edge of my breath.  “Please take me back.  I want to see Clarissa and Joey.”

“Come on, have a drink,
” Brice encourages.

“No, thank you,” I re
peat.  I look out the window; we’re headed to the highway.  “I really need to get back to the club.”

“Erin, things
will go much more smoothly and be more enjoyable if you just cooperate.” He’s oddly disappointed.

“I’m not sure what you mean, but I
’d like you to take me back to the club.”

Brice’s face is mysteriously stony and hard.  I do a self-check.  I have nothing with me to check.  No phone to call for he
lp and no key to the apartment to shove in his eye, just plain old me.

He smoothly transfers to my seat
. He is very close, brushing his leg with my bare one. He offers the glass to me again.

“Really, Erin, you look overwrought.  Have
this to calm you down.” Brice thrusts the glass under my nose.  I push him away.  He grabs me by the back of the head and pushes my face into the glass. I struggle against his strength.

“No!
” I shriek.  “Get that away from me!”  I raise my arm quickly, using its force and hit him under the chin.  The blow jostles the glass, spilling half of the drink onto the pristine carpet. His face flames with anger.

“You’re a fi
ery little thing, aren’t you?” he remarks.

Brice lunges at me on the bench seat. He
tries to pin me while still holding the damn glass.  I wiggle away and bang on the darkened window between us and the driver with the back of my fist.

“Help!” Bang. Bang. Bang.  “Hello!  Help!”
I’m up on one knee, with my back to Brice.  A cool hand brushes the back of my thigh and travels up my skirt.  I spin.
Bastard!

“Don’
t bother, Erin, he is well paid,” Brice says in a bored tone, resting back on the seat after our scuffle.  “You’re making this really difficult.  I have to say I wouldn’t have thought you had it in you.”  I glare at him and his words register as ugly pinpricks under my bruised skin.

A phone buzzes in hi
s pocket.  He pulls it out.  He reads the screen with a mocking smile.

“Oh, look.  It’s Joey.  I bet he’s going berzerk looking for you.”

I move sharply, trying to grab the phone in the confined space of the backseat of the limo.  He rips it away fast. I react. I surprise Brice by giving him an uppercut to the jaw.

“Holy! Mother Fucker!” Brice wails as he writhes in pain.  “You bitch!”
  The glass and phone drop to the floor.  More liquid soaks into the carpet. I snatch the phone from the puddle.

I steady it
in my hand and try to get to
missed calls
.  I almost had it.  Just as I go to hit JOEY, Brice tears it away.

In a furious rage, Brice
grabs a small plastic package from under the seat. 
Pills?
  He tears it open.  He grasps one between his fingers.  I see where this is going and snatch the glass up off the floor. Quickly, he springs and tries to stick the pill in my mouth.  I turn away, using my arms to keep him at bay.  His anger makes him stronger and he tries to immobilize me. My only thought is get out of this car.

I
hit him again, exactly the way Joey showed me, except with the glass in hand.  Glass shatters everywhere. He is reeling.  I smash him again with my bare hand, right in the jaw.  My knuckles sting and tears trail down my face.  Brice tries to lift his body, but he slumps back down onto the leather seat.

Self-preservation rules me. 
I riffle through the seat pockets and little cabinets as fast as I can.  I find a black umbrella with a pointed end.  Good weapon.  I press buttons and turn knobs.  A little compartment flips open and it’s the controls for the radio, T.V., and – finally - the window.  I press the lever that says “down.” Slowly, the glass lowers, revealing the back of the driver’s head.  He sees me in the rearview mirror.  I catch his eyes.  I lift the umbrella high pointed directly at the spot between the spinal cord and head.

“Stop this car right now! Or I’m going to jam this umbrella through the back of your fuckin’ skull!” I say with
a sheer menace and command that astonishes even me.  His eyes widen in the mirror, and I feel the vehicle begin to slow.  For some weird reason, I don’t feel fear.

I lean down and almost brush my lips to Brice’s ear a
s I say malevolently, “Don’t ever come near me again… Next time, it won’t end this nicely.”

I brace myself and cock my leg
back. With all my might, I knee him in the crotch.

“Oaf!”
escapes his lips as his limp body jumps with the force of the blow.

I don’t take my eyes off him as I reach behind me
, open the door, and slip out onto the sidewalk.  The limo peels away, leaving tread marks on the street.  I look around, gauge where I am, and start walking.

I’m not sure why, but I go back to Baby Ticks on Friday.  It’s something to do, even if just to let off some steam.  I jog down the dingy steps to the basement.  I’m early.  The room hasn’t filled up with beer-bellied bodies yet. 

I see Ty immediately.  He slaps my shoulder in greeting.

“Dude!  You’re back! Cool,” he says.

“Yeah.  I need
ed it,” I tell him.

“I hear Jacko’s coming in tonight too. 
Huh,” he chuckles. “I’m surprised after you embarrassed the shit out of him.  It was so fuckin’ funny.”

I shrug.

“No, seriously, this guy thinks he’s the fuckin’ best in this hell hole.  You’ve been out of it for awhile.”  Ty motions to Ziggy, the bartender, and yells.  “Get one over here for Vito!”  A beer slides down the bar, and we stride over to it.  Another beer is poured for Ty.   He raises his glass to me.  “To fuckin’ up losers,” he toasts.  I tap my glass with his.

“Yeah.”  I
agree.  “Sometimes I like it way more than I should,” I murmur, more to myself than to Ty.  We shoot the shit for a while until Baby comes around the corner from the back door, his fuckin’ cigar hanging out of his mouth.  His eyes light up when he sees me leaning against the bar talking with Ty. 

I chug my third beer.

“Hey, how’s Tonio?  I never see him anymore,” Ty asks.

“Getting married.”

“I heard.  That Irish chick.  I hear her sister is pretty hot too. Nice tits and ass for her age,” he says casually.

Bang.

I smash my beer down on the bar.  It breaks into thick curved pieces of broken glass.  Ty jumps back from the splash of amber liquid that covers the bar and the floor.
  A couple of people regard us for a second before turning back to their conversations, uninterested.

“Shit dude.  You okay?”
Ty asks.

The tap of
a finger on my shoulder makes me spin.  Jacko leans in too close to my face.

“You are fuckin’ going down.  That was bullshit
last week and it’s not gonna happen again.  Watch out Rossi.  I’m comin’ for ya.”  He flicks his finger on my chest.  He’s trying rile me.  Maybe to start something right here.  Little does he know that I’m already fucking riled.

In
one smooth motion, I swipe my leg out, catching both of his, and pull.  He goes down like a fish, squirming to try to stop the fall.  He hits the floor in a heap, but he jumps up quickly.  His fists are tight, ready to strike me.  Ty grabs Jacko from behind.

“Bullshit!” Jacko screeches
, high-pitched and angry.  Ty keeps his hold on Jacko while he struggles.  “Fuck you!” he spits at me in an intense fury.

“Aw, you hurt my feelings.” I mock.  “Get used to the floor asshole, cause that’s w
here your gonna be soon.”

A few people shuffle away from our argument and continue their conversations at a safe distance.  I brush off the confrontation. 
I walk away and through small crowd of people to Baby’s crates.

“You in, tonight?” he asks gruffly.

“Yeah.  I want Jacko.”

Baby huffs.  I’m trying to determine if it’s him trying to laugh or
if he’s pissed.

“So?” I say after a long
, bizarre pause.

“No,” he says.

“What the fuck?”

“He’s all I got when you
’re not here.  Last week was bad for business.  You ain’t coming around no more, so I need to spread it.  You kill his spirit? I got no one. Follow me?”

“What about Ty?”  I ask.

“He’s good, but he ain’t got no fire.”  The mangled cigar swirls around in his mouth, distracting me.  “I got some new kids coming in.  You fight one of them.”

A line forms behind me.  People waiting to place bets, run numbers, or whatever new fuckin’ gambling thing Baby’s got going on.

“Move, you’re up in thirty.”

Heat sears my brain and anger fills me.  Baby’s enforcer is bringing Jacko over so Baby can talk to him about tonight.  I lose it.

I reach out and grab Jacko by the shirt.   I cock my fist back and punch.  He is dazed.  I rip my arm back again and punch him in the jaw.  He tries to get his fists up, but he’s too slow.

My body is moving because my emotions are telling it to.  I reach dow
n, grab a hold of his pant leg and shirt and lift him off the ground.  Once he’s in the air, I throw him as far as I can. My adrenaline surges with fury.  He lands in a crowd of men, knocking some of them off balance.  He didn’t go very far, but he lands with a thud.  Crowds of onlookers cheer while the ones who got hit scowl.  Money changes hands rapidly in an incensed frenzy.  These fuckers never change.  They just want a good show. If I can’t fight Jacko in the ring, then he’s getting his ass kicked outside of it.  I wasn’t letting that chooch off the hook.

I turn to Baby.  “Sure, I’ll fight who ever you want me to.”  I smile smugly.

Baby’s face is clear…
Fuckin’ pissed!

I
didn’t tell them what happened.  Joey and Clarissa hounded me to find out, but I didn’t give in. I’ll never forget the look on their faces when they opened the apartment door: Shock. My dress was ripped, dirt and bruises covered me, and my face was a bright pink from walking so many miles in the middle of the night.  I thought I saw Joey’s eyes well up at the sight of me. Clarissa threw her arms around me in practically a chokehold, sobbing.  I appreciated their love, support, and caring--but it was my story to tell. Or in this case, not to tell.