Chapter 27
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
“ I need your answer today,”
I want to smile and tell him that he can have it now, then give it to him in short and very plain words. Something memorable.
All my life I’ve tried to get control of my temper and it’s always been a fight.
My teacher, Mrs. Charbonne used to tell me that it was a power. An energy. That I could learn to channel it.
I never quite mastered that, but most of the time I can hold it back. Sometimes I can keep a lid on it for hours. Daddy said my temper was stronger than I was. “If you don’t get a hold of it, it will destroy you.”
Now would be a great moment to keep it down.
Keeping my breathing and my voice under control is about as much as I can manage right at this moment. I tell him, “I’ll give careful thought to all that you’ve said.”
He snarls. “I’m not accustomed to waiting.”
But I still have your balls in my hand. And I still have the blade. Damnit.
“I won’t keep you too long, Jerry.”
This seems like a perfect time for a swift, clean exit. While I still have a chance.
This is the man who dripped poison in my Alessio’s ear. Broke a hole in the trust between me an the oldest of my men. I want to squeeze as hard as I can. Crush the fucker. Right here.
The men around the room all stood more or less still while I’ve been here, but three of them have been like statues. Two on the far side, one off to my left and a little behind me. They’re the ones with training.
If it came to it, I would need to take them first. I would get one fast shot at each, and it would still leave seventeen armed men.
It’s a big room, but my Rugers are accurate across the distance. My biggest difficulty is light. Still, I could take a chance. If I shot the lights, we would all be in darkness.
I would have the element of surprise, and I bet they have no training as a team. I could shoot my way to the rear door, which is closest.
It would be good to play as an escape room challenge, but in real life, my odds would be terrible. Even in darkness, they would all have my muzzle flashes as a target. If there’s one halfway decent marksman among them, I would be painting the floor.
His eyes blaze into mine. I take a slow breath, keeping my eyes on his. Calculating.
I clamp my hand in one last, savage squeeze then gently, regretfully, I loosen my grip. I let go, and back off.
As I turn on my heel, I hear him draw breath, ready for a parting shot. Without looking round, I raise a hand. One finger points skyward.
I raise my voice. “I came because Alessio asked me to come. You said what you had to say and I heard you out.” making that loud, in front of his men, I’m walking a tightrope now.
I should leave it at that and get out. I turn back and stand, feet apart, hands on hips to face him.
“In Chicago, you’re a made guy. Because of that, I let you get away with coming to my city and disrespecting me.”
His mouth opens. Before he can speak, I say, “Once.”
Still holding my fury down as hard as I can, I tell him, “You’re not a made guy here.”
I turn again. As I stride out, I call back.
“Do not test me a second time, Jerry.”
Holding myself tall I keep my walk slow and regular, with plenty of sass. I fling open the double doors and step out to the corridor. I so wish I could see Jerry’s face.
Like I’m showing on a fashion runway, I strut between the lines of men, down through the foyer. As I get out of the big the hotel doors and into the sun, I feel like I’ve been holding my breath forever.
I rise my shoulders as I sashay down the steps to the limo. Mikey waits with the back door open. As soon as I’m inside and the door closes, I let it go.
I feel like I’ve been carrying a grand piano, high above my head.
Mikey doesn’t need to ask me where were going, he just drives. He turns the limo in a wide stately arc in front of the De Soto.
I appreciate the flourish and I enjoy it. But I know that I haven’t had my execution cancelled.
It’s only been postponed.
On the way home I know that I should swing by the Sun-a-do, but I’m desperately craving a soak in the tub. I need my men, but they’re all elsewhere.
I even think about going to Alessio in the old Dracula castle, but my mind bounces off the idea like a pinball. the thought of that gothic horror trickles through me like a chill.
Anyway, I’m really torn up about Alessio. I want to see it from his point of view. He grew up expecting to run the family, and I swept in and snatched it all away. Of all people, I understand frustration and feeling thwarted.
When he’s feeling like that, I know it’s easy to lash out. To want to roar and smash things. I get it. Still, he’s taking the family down a dark path and there may not be a way back.
While I’m still shaking on the outside and melting from the inside, and starting to feel an aura of tingling all the way through me from echoes of the nervous pitch I’ve held at bay for almost an hour, I know that I’m in a kind of physical comedown from the stress.
I need to ride that out and let it pass. Definitely wait for the aftershocks to roll through before I make any serious decisions or choices. The immediate danger is past, but my body is still in a state of chemical emergency alert.
This is a time when I need relaxation. Maybe I could take a workout in the basement. Pound the treadmill and the spin bike for an hour before I take my soak.
Guys deal with this kind of tension by going out to bars, getting hammered, dancing and shouting and making rash and inappropriate choices for the late evening.
I did stuff like that in the past, too, but guys jump and yell and they look like lions or bulls. Or, at their worst, hogs or goats. Its different when you’re a girl.
And now, I’m not just a girl, or even just a mafia princess. Now, I need to be more careful. Anything that I do in public could ripple out and have consequences.
I’ll make do with the gym then glass of cold white wine or a carton of ice-cream. Or maybe both. In the tub. And I’ll try and forget how badly I want Bruno’s muscles, or Alessio’s cock, or Carlo’s tongue.
How I want all three of their mouths on me.