Luca

Ka-Boom!

 

Nausea roils in my stomach and I dry heave. I can’t remember the last time I ate. No thanks to Mr. Death and his fucking minion Jean-Paul Van Damme. I groan and try to blink my eyes open, but one is half swelled shut. The scent of goat piss no longer fills my nostrils. No, this smells different. Familiar.

Oregano.

I’d know that filthy scent from anywhere.

A certain Atlantic City casino smelled like this shit.

“Psst, kid,” Paul hisses. “Wake up.”

“I’m awake, fucker.”

“Good,” he whispers. “We have to devise a plan.”

I crane my neck to seek out his voice. He’s sitting in a chair beside me, ropes securing him to it. Fuck. I knew I knew that scent. We’re screwed.

“Rossi,” I grumble. “They got me.”

“They got me as well,” he huffs, clearly pissed as fuck over this.

“Welcome to villain hell.” I roll my head on my shoulders, trying to loosen the kinks. “Where the hell are we?”

“An old warehouse in LA, not far from where I was going to take you,” he reveals. “Four blocks at most.”

“You must be so disappointed that badder guys thwarted your bad guy plans,” I deadpan. “Please, do tell me what I’m missing out on now that we’ve been sent off course. A vat of acid? Hang me by my toes and cut open my abdomen so my guts splatter the floor? Rabid dogs to eat me alive?”

Paul’s lip curls up as though he’s disgusted. “Americans have sick imaginations.”

“Americans are realists. Also, we watch a lot of movies.”

He snorts. “I was going to hold you until Vinnie decided what he wanted to do. Contrary to your belief, I prefer not to hurt people. As Chuck Norris always says on his video blogs—”

“Oh, God, stop,” I groan. “I can only deal with crazy from one person and her dog. Everyone else can just fuck off with it. I’m maxed out.” My chest squeezes at the thought of Frannie all alone with that motherfucker. “Just…lie to me, man. Tell me he’s going to take care of her. At least I can die knowing that.”

Paul cocks his head to the side. “He is going to take care of her.”

“That was surprisingly convincing. Can you say it with a little more conviction, though? Add in some specific details to make it more real? What will her bedroom look like? Will the goats love her?” I close my eyes to imagine Frannie in her pretty yellow dress that belonged to her momma, my dog Bingster Boo tucked under her arm, frolicking amongst the goats. Maybe Cala and Lindsay are there, so she’s not lonely.

“It is his familial duty,” Paul reveals in an ominous tone.

My eyes snap open. “His motherfucking what?”

Paul nods. “Vincent has fathered the girl.”

“Wow, now those are some details, Van Damme, but stop. That’s over the top. Her father? Come the fuck on.” I huff and pull against the restraints, hoping to loosen them.

“Think about it, young man,” he says. “Do you find it strange that you suddenly had the urge to go all the way out to Atlantic City for no reason?”

That’s exactly what I think.

Though it’s not, is it?

The brochure came in the mail boasting of some hotshot casino out there that looked like easy pickings for a con man. I’d already fucked around in Vegas here and there with some success. It felt like destiny—and now that I have Frannie, I believe that—not some ultimate bad guy plan.

“I decided to go,” I tell him defiantly. “All on my own. Bubble burst. What now, Paul?”

“I put that brochure in your mailbox on Vinnie’s command. He’d been researching you for some time because he needed the right person to do the job. All you needed was a little push. The moment you bailed, he pounced on the girls.”

“I’ll kill him,” I seethe.

Nonplussed, he continues. “You were not supposed to get caught, though. Vinnie was disappointed when I reported back.”

“Wait? You were there?”

He nods solemnly. “I have been following you for some time now.”

“And that’s not fucking creepy or anything. Especially when you say it like that. Do you moonlight as an actor because you totally have that Van Damme vibe with a little mix of Stallone?”

The fucker preens a little at my comment.

“I assure you I am no actor,” he says, grinning. “I am a thorough henchman to the great Vincent Lamberto.” He pauses as though waiting for applause.

Sorry, dude, hands are fucking tied.

“Bravo,” I deadpan. “What next?”

“So, you got caught. The police had you in their custody, but the Rossi men knew you smelled of Vincent. They wanted to shake you down and do all those terrible things you spoke of. But instead of dogs, they’d use pigs.”

I shudder at the visual.

“Then,” he says, “Rossi’s men caught up to you. A shootout took place. I was prepared to intervene on your behalf.”

“How brave and dashing you are,” I sneer.

“Absolutely,” he agrees. “But then, you surprise me with your ability to stay alive. The cop did the shooting, but you managed to get yourself out of the situation.”

I sigh heavily. “So I was just a pawn to retrieve Frannie. Why?”

“Because Vincent’s daughter was in danger.”

“I hardly call Teterboro dangerous. I was probably their one and only home invasion.”

He shakes his head. “Before you showed up and tried to steal from them, Rossi had already uncovered Vincent had a daughter and they were looking for her. They were on your tail as it was.”

“So why didn’t you save us all the drama and just snatch Frannie yourself since you’re so skilled and all-knowing?”

“Someone had to fight off Rossi’s men so you could safely get her away,” he tells me. “Vincent knew your family was your bargaining chip and you were the perfect tool.”

“Yeah, fuck him too,” I growl. Something still doesn’t add up. “If I believe this bullshit scam that Death conned me of all people to do his bidding and end up in that casino, the question is, why? Why take me to the den of the enemy and then make me go get his precious cargo all the while having the bad guys on my ass? Seems like the worst dumbass idea in history.”

“Unfinished business.”

Cryptic bastard.

“Elaborate,” I growl.

“How you Americans say it? Murder two birds with one rock?”

“Kill two birds with one stone.”

“Ahh, yes. He wanted Rossi brought to him. Into his territory. To finish what they started years ago.” Paul grins, his eyes flashing. “The grand finale.”

Cue fucking eye roll.

“This plan could have failed in so many ways.” She could have gotten hurt, or worse, killed.

“I was there every step of the way,” he assures me. “Watching you bring her across the country. A few times I had to step in, but I bragged to Vincent how well you and Frannie had things handled on your own.”

“Aww,” I say dryly, “so sweet. You put in a good word. Does he need a copy of my résumé too? I’ve been looking for a different job than con man. Henchman is a promotion.”

Fucker preens again, flashing his big white teeth.

“Why does Rossi want Vincent’s daughter anyway?” I ask, eager to get to the crux of the matter.

“Vincent blew up Rossi’s childhood home here in LA with his father and brothers in it. He has wanted revenge for twenty plus years, but never had an opportunity as Vincent is a vicious mobster with plenty of protection. Like I said, unfinished business.”

Holy shit.

“Why did he blow them up?” I demand.

“Because they failed to pay back their loan.”

“Harsh,” I mutter. “Remind me not to ask that dude to spare some change.”

“Rossi ignored Vincent and then he could not ignore him anymore.” His eyes alight with violence. “Ka-boom!”

“So why was Rossi involved with Vincent in the first place?”

“They were once business associates until it went bad, but Rossi never knew about the wife and child. Vincent had already hidden them away for fear of his associates turning on him. When things went down with Rossi and Vincent, the girls were safe.” He sighs. “Rossi used what he owed Vincent and took it down to Vegas to turn a profit. It went down the toilet and he had to flee back to New Jersey where his mother lived and he could hide out. When his mother died, he used the inheritance to build a casino in Atlantic City.”

“Quite a fucking coincidence him ending up near Frannie and her mom. Was Death concerned at all that the guy he hated was in his wife and daughter’s backyard?”

“Immensely, but he had eyes on them.”

“Eyes?”

“The beautiful Ms. Mabel.”

“Wait…what? As in Frannie’s old lady bestie? She was a traitor to my wife by being besties with her lunatic father?”

Paul shakes his head as if I’m silly. “I am Vincent’s best friend. Mabel the lovely was simply eyes. She knew it was imperative that they were kept safe. Vincent would call and check up on things, send items to the store if needed, and remind her to keep her eyes peeled for anything strange.”

“Why wouldn’t Mabel tell Frannie that she’d been in contact with her real father?” I demand, furious on her behalf.

“Mabel, the one with the prettiest lips, was sworn to secrecy. Besides, it only would have hurt the child knowing her father was out there alive and well. And Francis was precocious as a child, so she would have tried to find him.”

You don’t say…

“So we did our job,” I grumble, “by rescuing Frannie and bringing her to LA to be with her father. Big fucking deal. She’s safe from Rossi, but what about Vincent? He’s a monster.”

“I agree he makes strange decisions at times like with your sister. I’ve always preferred an older woman over a younger one, but who am I to judge. The heart wants what the heart wants—”

“Wait, my sister?”

I’m going to kill him.

Dead fucking meat.

“Would you lookie there,” a deep voice croons as he walks into view.

Arlo Rossi. Shit.

“A boy and his goon,” Rossi says. “So sweet.”

I glower at him. “Let me loose and I’ll show you what a sweet boy I am.”

Rossi cackles with laughter. “Oh, Luca, how easy it would be to put a bullet through your empty skull. But, you have proved to be quite entertaining to me. And costly. You’ve somehow managed to evade my men at every turn. It was you who dragged my ass across country to do this job myself. I’m going to have fun making you scream, and then when I get your father-in-law and your wife in here, I’m going to make you watch while I skin them alive.”

Bile rises in my throat. “You touch one hair on her head…”

“I’m going to touch every single hair on her head,” he sneers. “And then I’m going to work my way down.” He makes a salacious gesture with his fingers and tongue, making me see red.

“YOU MOTHERFU—”

Ka-boom!