Adversary (7 page)

“I’m down. Any opportunity to get out of Lycra and latex is cool with me.”

“And me too,” Tony said with a naughty grin.

Tiffany smiled as he opened the car door like a gentleman and waited for him to claim the wheel beside her. In the past few months she’d seen a major change in Tony. He smiled a lot and exuded such confidence in his carriage that it became contagious to be around. He’d always been self-assured but this Tony owned the world. She didn’t know how to feel. She was happy he was fulfilled at work but it’s the kind of work he did which he never talked about that caused a foreboding. That shooting out in Palermo was a mob hit. The media downplayed it and after a while people forgot. Of course the attention span of viewers is short, but when you live with a man who’s involved in a dangerous job it weighs consistently on the brain. He didn’t talk about killings or illegal anything. Alfonzo Diaz wasn’t totally a legitimate businessman; he was considered the Boss of Bosses of organized crime. Perhaps that is her ignorance, maybe these were rumors since none of the criminal charges resulted in a conviction, in fact the one case was dismissed. Maybe there was a coordinated warlock hunt so to speak and he was as pure as the driven snow. But, she didn’t buy it. She’d seen the man a handful of times and he breathed danger…warning…scary…ruthless bad-boy!

Oh handsome as hell though, dressed in tailored threads and a sexy smile didn’t make him innocent. Polite, charming and complimentary without flirtation he was a man that might set fires. He did appear genuinely interested when he asked, “How are you chica?” But, seeing the nice side always made her wonder what ruthlessness was there in the dark?

The car Tony received from his boss was a late model Audi Sports Coupe. A soft leather interior of butter and honey it screamed expensive. The sleek shiny console, state-of-the art gadgets weren’t on the market, she knew because she researched. What boss gives an employee of less than a year a car like this, she wondered? Tony wasn’t a salesman, stockbroker, trader or CEO of a company. Tony didn’t tell her much. He’s part of security and on call was the story. He had a private office in the main building and that’s about all she got. She did enquire about his job description and he said, “Chauffeur, bodyguard, whatever he needs me to do.”

The last part of the sentence was vague. Whatever he needs me to do sounded ominous. If he was asked to kill someone would he do it? This prospect frightened her. Tony had a criminal record and if he got in trouble, he might go away for life. She didn’t want to nag so she stayed silent on the issue after emphatically stating her position, twice. Tony wasn’t a kid, he didn’t need her permission. She just had to believe in her man and trust whole-heartedly he wouldn’t do anything stupid that would send him to prison. Goodness, she loved him too much to think what that would do to him.

They were driving without music and air-conditioning on to diffuse the early summer heat clinging to the evening when he said, “You didn’t answer my question.”

“What question?” she asked wondering if he meant the black-tie affair, but he’d asked another when she’d gone inside her head and didn’t hear.

“I asked if you need money to go shopping.”

“Oh, I didn’t hear you.”

He made a left when the directional arrow went green. “Whatever you were thinking must be really deep. Care to share?”

“Tony you know how I get,” she covered with a smile. “After those children I sometimes zone out. But a nice shopping trip on your dime will give me renewed energy.”

“Shameless shopaholic,” he said with a lopsided grin. “I’m encouraging you to shop till you drop aren’t those words women like to hear?”

“Nobody but commercials use that phrase. We just do our thang!”

Tony shook his head. “You finally get to meet the boss’ wife. I think you’ll hit it off.”

Tiffany wasn’t smiling. “So, this event has something to do with your employer?”

“Yeah, that casino opening. Music, celebrities, food…and I know how you like to get dressed up.”

“Yeah, but it depends on where I’m going and the company.”

“Sounds like you have a problem. Is it my boss or is there a problem going with me?” He was at a red light. A busy Brooklyn street during rush hour where everybody took shortcuts to avoid the congestion of the main road. Kind of defeated the purpose though since most drivers discovered the route.

“You know I don’t have a problem with you, it’s just I don’t know if I want to be around people that may get me killed simply because I’m in their presence.”

“Oh okay. That’s fucked but if that’s the way you feel you don’t have to attend I’ll go alone.” He snickered. “But if one of those single women ask me to dance, do I have to call home and ask or will you be okay with me showing off my dance moves?”

“Oh hell no I’m going,” she said rising to the bait. She’d have to spend a lot of his money though to buy a proper outfit. She’d seen pictures of Mrs. Diaz in a recent on-line magazine. That woman had style, not to mention she was a knock-out. She lifted her chin and placed her hand on Tony’s thigh. She’d go all right and properly represent her man but he was going to pay for the privilege with that black card of his. “I’m going to need you card.”

Tony’s smile widened as her hand slid in his pants. “Didn’t I already say I got you?” They were honked when he hadn’t moved the car after the light turned green a second ago. He was getting hard and stepped on the gas, wiggling his ass in the seat at her rubbing action down there.

“Yes, you did but here’s the thing.”

Hell, she had loosened his belt, unzipped him and his dick sprung free. “Damn woman, what?”

Her head descended to his lap. There was a click when she took of her seatbelt. “I’m soothing you now because when you see the charges you might have a fit.”

He nearly crashed into the back of car when her lips attached to his vertical penis and she began sucking with such intensity he belt out, “Spend the whole damn card woman…bankrupt my ass!”

***

The water when night’s over the horizon is a murky black color like oil. From the pier near the shuttered warehouse Tony had a view of the adjacent facility at the far end of the unloading docks. The floodlights he noticed were strategically off in certain spots, notably in front of the warehouse where suited men stood. Cars were rolled out, shiny luxury cars in different colors, perhaps seven so far from his count. He lifted the camera and adjusted the setting to night and placed the view finder to his eye. Twisting the attachment lens he zoomed in on the figures and took pictures without aid of a flashbulb. This camera was the kind used by Special Ops, how’d he know, he read a lot. It was in the office, locked away with other items for use in the field. Hand selected surveillance equipment courtesy of Nico. The guy knew his shit, up and down; the man never missed a beat. He didn’t see him in quite a while and the last time he had, he almost didn’t recognize him. The guy was clean-shaven, bald as a baby and in construction gear. He thought he was one of the workers on the site and that’s what he supposed Nico wanted everyone to think. It’s easy to maneuver around people when you can fit in like that.

Tony lowered the camera when one of the figures opened the trunk of a car and then it shut. They walked in the warehouse leaving look-outs and stayed inside for less than twenty minutes. An exchange must be taking place out of sight. Tony wouldn’t have considered anything clandestine occurring from the looks of it. Dock workers, clipboards, warehouse security and unloading were commerce. Goods of every kind came in by ship except instinct told him there was more going on than importation of cars.

One man exited with two briefcases. The camera was back up and each step the man took was captured on film. Even when he boarded the vessel, the name of the craft was documented for extra efficiency. Clanging of lifts and pay loaders moving crates on to other boats continued. Nothing unusual in any of this to the novice viewer, but Tony sensed he was here because there was major trouble that loomed. 

CHAPTER FIVE

“Hmmm,” Alfonzo mumbled in his sleep before twisting on his side. The vibrations in his head had escalated. His hand went inside his shorts for warmth as he groaned irritably at a cool draft that suddenly fanned his uncovered torso. Then a loud thump jostled him awake and he bolt upright wondering whether Palermo was experiencing an earthquake similar to what occurred in the north. Palermo is on the southern end, Sicily is what Nico always scowled. Proud Sicilian’s usually do but to Alfonzo it was Italy just separated by names.

Alfonzo shook his head at the sounds shaking the walls. It's no wonder the motherfucker couldn’t keep furniture; Giuseppe liked rough sex and apparently Shanda did too.  Thank goodness I’m going home in the morning, Alfonzo scoffed. Sergio that lucky sonovabitch was probably sleeping like a baby in Nico’s guest room, maybe he should have stayed there, too.

The dark room had a thin stream of light. He thought he closed the door before he fell asleep. Apparently not. He suddenly noticed the child clutching his blanket like Linus from the Peanuts cartoon.

Carlo’s face was pressed to the floor, thumb in his mouth and sucking hard. “Hey, got scared?” Alfonzo asked sliding off the bed to the carpet to lift the boy to his lap.

Giuseppe’s face he had. The cherry lips, strong nose, tufts of rich black hair and piercing blue eyes.  The boy’s skin had lost the infant pallor but he remained quite pale in comparison to Giuseppe or Shanda. In fact if not for the Giuseppe resemblance he’d swear this wasn’t his brother’s kid. But colorless or not Carlo was loved.  He removed the finger from the child’s mouth. “None of that shit. I get you’re scared but that’s your mommy and daddy making out.”

Alfonzo rose with the child and sprawled out with the child on his chest. He rubbed his back in circles like he did with the youngest when they fought sleep. Carlo relaxed; he felt the small body go limp and stubby arms spread to his flank.

Alfonzo’s eyes closed, thinking of his family, wondering what they were doing and aching to hold his wife in his arms. Days apart, calls across an ocean when he needed comfort had taken a toll. He fought demonic urges that snuck in sometimes during weak moments. Many times he questioned sanity or cursed temptation but swore to stay faithful. He promised, gave his word at the altar and these second chances don’t come around for many. Burned by the memories of the faceless women’s lips on his body, heat and lust without a soul connection he twitched. A liar he’d been before, asking for trust when he shattered it long ago with liquored nights in luxury places when associates bring women to please guests. Oral sex he deemed harmless when his dick leaped to feel relief as women licked him clean. Selange suspected, hadn’t she? She had an inkling of his misdeeds as women often do. Premonitions, instinct are feelings gained from context clues. What had it been that unveiled him? Perhaps the answer is as simple as she was not stupid. But, he’d convinced himself blow-jobs meant nothing with the cloak of dishonesty called excuse and treated her like she was. Justifications abound for his actions; harmless, meaningless are the words when love is not involved. Injurious to the heart is the hypocrisy to demand fidelity from his wife without disclosure of his wrongs. Selange was a good woman; she’d always been that until he stole with sugary lies a trusting portion of a loving sweet heart. When he said he hadn’t slept with other women, deep within she knew he had given part of himself away and could never get it back. Not many times, yet once is enough. Like Giuseppe he’d thought his Prima Donna was happy but her soul had cried loneliness in the dark. He did not want to be his father, nor lie in bed waiting for death loveless.

Second chances.

To be an honorable man.

A faithful husband.

A dutiful son.

A loving father.

To dance with joy.

Wars raging in the heart do not make for peaceful homes. Love is what he needed. Fighting and battling turmoil isn’t what he wanted. Tired, clearly focused, he disciplined his soul. He wasn’t going to ever disappoint his babe; he bound to her with devotion. Commit whole-heartedly is what he did, clamped his soul to the woman nurturing his children during his absence, trusting his flesh did not lead him astray and he heard her. “Be good”, she said.

“Sí, estoy bien nena.”

Romantic songs played in his head like an old juke box. He began to sing himself to sleep with a lullaby dedicated to the other half of his heart on a different shore:

‘…Quisiera estar siempre a tu lado

Huir de todo mal, de todo mal,

De tu cuerpo un esclavo,

Y creo que te he demostrado
que,

Estoy enamorado, Simplemente,

Te lo quiero confesar, Te lo queria decir,

Totalmente ilusionado,

Me la paso pensandote,

Nunca voy a soltarte,

Estoy enamorado,

Te lo quiero confesar,

Totalmente ilusionado,

Me la paso pensandote, Todo el tiempo,

Nunca voy a soltarte…’

“Yeah babe, I want to be by your side forever to escape all that’s bad. Yep, I’m a slave of your body, I confess it to you. Yep, I’m in love with you…estoy enamorado…I confess…I’ll never let you go.” He mumbled before his mouth went slack when sleep grabbed him and silenced his voice. Across the sea into her arms he went, to drift like a feather. Home is where his soul found peace.

Selange.

When the walls shook he did not wake, nor did Carlo. Both were wrapped in protective arms.

***

“I’m glad you came,” Lucia greeted with a smile that made Sergio warm over. He’d told Nico he met a woman and needed to get laid. No argument from Uncle, just a wave of the hand and the car keys tossed across the room with a warning, “Use protection and be careful!”