Odd Jobs (35 page)

“Yeah, I used to think so, but that’s not true.”

“I’m so sorry for everything that happened. Please, let’s get past
it.”

“C.W., I got to go. I’m sorry, but this isn’t right.” I turn and go. I try to break into a light jog and look cool, but I know I look like a dork running on the sand. I’m determined to not look back because if I do look, I might change my mind.

Finally
I
reach the Saab. I keep rehashing what just happened. I’m supposed to be kicking myself. I’ve been thinking of C.W. every day for years, and now I get my opportunity to get her back and I throw it away. Damn, it feels good. That big-ass monkey is off my back. I’m laughing to myself that I just dusted C.W. fuckin’ Wellington. The last time that happened was probably ... never.

CHAPTER
27

Sev moves our mobile HQ from the Astoria Diner to the Executive Diner in Elmont. One would think Sev could overdose on pancakes, but one would be wrong. You would think that maybe he’d want to rotate some waffles in the mix, but it’s going to be pancakes.

We still haven’t sent Petro in to take over Industrial Road; the wait is killing me. The only thing mitigating my anxiety is thinking about C.W. Yep,
I
guess for a little while
I’ll still think of her, but it’s different now. That chapter is closed. I don’t feel like I have to be running with any group, I don’t need to chase any money crowd.
I
found the right place to be.
I
just need to get Balducci out of the way.

While this wait is challenging for me, it’s really gnawing at Petro. He is chomping at the bit to storm Industrial Road. While at the diner with Sev, Petro calls me and says, “C’mon, Kevin, let me talk to Sev. It’s time to go in.”

“I
can’t do it, Petro. You know the rules. You go through me and only me.”

“This is fucked up. Are you guys going around me?”

“Petro, what the fuck are you talking about? All I’ve ever done is deliver for you. I’ve earned hundreds of thousands of dollars for you, let you know Balducci was after you and came up with this idea for you; why would we leave you out now?”

“But why is it taking so long?”

“Sev knows what he’s doing. The time has to be right.”

“Well, what if
I
don’t want to wait? What if
I
just move in?”

“You’ll lose,” I tell him calmly, as
if I
were talking to one of Luke’s customers. “If you were ever going to trust me on anything, understand this; you would lose. If we stay cool, we’ll all win. There’s so much upside here for you and everyone else. You’ve waited years for this opportunity. What’s a couple more days? Let’s stay cool, Petro, let’s all win.”

There’s a slight pause and some rough breathing. Then Petro says, “Okay, Kevin, I hear you. I’ll sit tight. Call me later when you know more.”

Petro hangs up and I close my cell phone as well. Sev, who heard the whole conversation, stops slurping pancakes and says, “Nice job, way to diffuse him.”

“Thanks, but I’m not so sure I can keep him at bay much longer. This guy is a wild card.”

Sev says, “You want any pancakes?”

Two days and what seems like 400 stacks of pancakes later, we move from the Executive Diner in Elmont to the All-Star Diner in Rosedale. When I think the tension can’t get any worse, I get a call on my cell phone. The caller ID
says Rocky. She’s not supposed to call, but still I can’t help but appreciate that she does. I open the cell and say, “Hey, baby.”

A deep male voice on the other end of the line says, “Fuck you, asshole.”

Stunned, I stammer, “Who ... who’s this?”

“Never mind who this is. Get your ass up and excuse yourself from wherever you are if you want to see this bitch alive. Be very careful, college boy. Rocky never got your text to get out of Dodge. That was me who texted you on her phone. Now get up and move. If
anyone hears this conversation, I’ll chop her up like an onion.”

That cocksucker Bino has Rocky. I excuse myself and because of Bino’s threat, tell Sev that my ex-girlfriend is calling again.

He rolls his eyes and pours some syrup on the latest
stack. I walk outside the diner and say into the phone, “Bino you are so fucked up. You have no idea how bad this is going to turn out.”

“Shut the fuck up before I start dick-whipping her. You did this, not me. You’re the one ruining everything. What did ya think? That we’re just going to sit here?”

“Bino, be smart. No one’s looking for you. You can fly under the radar and get a good chunk of what’s around after the dust settles.”

“Fuck you, Davenport. How ‘bout this for a deal? You get your ass over to Kosher World by 9 p.m. Alone. Right now, no one has touched this bitch, but if we even think you told someone about this meeting, I’ll ram my dick up her ass so far she’ll be coughing up my balls. How’s that sound?”

“Bino, I’ll come meet you. I won’t tell anyone I’m coming, but if you do anything to her, I will smother you in pain before I kill you.”

“Hey, asshole, did you forget who’s holding the cards now?”

“Let me speak to her.”

“Sure. You’re hoping I just stole her cell phone and she’s at home watching Oprah. Yeah, I got her cell phone and the rest of the package. I got all the buttons here I could ever dream of pushing.”

Rocky’s choked-up voice comes through. “Kevin?”

I try to maintain my cool; I don’t want to spook her any more than necessary. “Baby, are you okay? Did they do anything to you?”

“No, not yet, but they keep threatening.”

Bino grabs the phone back and says, “That’s enough. You better get your ass over here tonight and don’t fuck around.”

“Where am I meeting you?”

“The Tongue Room. One more thing. Call the fucking phone company and have all your calls forwarded to Rocky’s cell phone. I don’t want anyone getting hold of you. If you’re not here by nine, she’s my sex slave.” Bino hangs up.

My head goes fuzzy. Panic overwhelms me. Anything but this. Rocky is the only thing that matters. How can this be happening? What do I do? I’ll do the same to them. I’ll grab Balducci’s kid Richie. I’ll fuck him up. I’ll grab Balducci’s wife. Yeah, I’ll fuckin’ grab both of them. Shit, shit, SHIT! That’s not going to work. There’s no way Balducci didn’t think of that. Dealing with all that crap in Queens, I never thought he would make a connection to Rocky way up in Albany. Anyone that matters to Balducci will be out of reach. I should have been smarter. Damn, my head’s so fuzzy. I’ve never felt this kind of anxiety before.

I can’t lose Rocky; she’s everything to me. I wish I could call this whole thing off now. I’ll do anything to get Rocky back.

I have to meet these guys alone. I can’t tell Sev or Curtis; they’re not going to stop the Industrial Road takeover because of Rocky. It’s too far along. Balducci needs me so he can figure out what he’s dealing with. Then he’ll kill me. As long as I can get Rocky out, I can live with that trade. I never thought I would ever feel this way. Stopping Balducci meant everything until I was confronted with losing Rocky. I believed I would risk everything and accept all the consequences. But I can’t.

The Kosher World lights are low and my footsteps echo as I walk. There was never an opportunity to hear an echo before. The place used to run 24/7, pumping out hot dogs, corned beef and pastrami at warp speed. Now there are no machines grinding, no orders being bellowed and no loud, lame excuses being offered. It feels more like a museum than the hectic factory I had once known.

Every step I take toward the Tongue Room is scarier than the last. I feel like at any time, or at any moment, I’ll take a bat to the skull or a meat pick to the heart. Balducci has thugs at the entrances, but nothing inside so far. I can only speculate that he wants as few witnesses as possible. I have no regrets about coming here alone. Sev’s head is different now; he and Curtis are all military. They are in a different country, fighting a corrupt government. If Rocky is killed, they will view her death as nothing more than unfortunate collateral damage.

I pass the pastrami room and, although I’m trying to be cool and calm, my sneakers screech against the black-and-white tile floor. The lights are on in the Tongue Room. I walk slowly, waiting for something to happen, but they seem to be letting me get closer. Two dudes wearing black pants and black shirts flank the Tongue Room door. My breathing feels weird. I need to stay cool if I’ve got any shot here.

The two guys stiffen. I recognize one of them as Butch Bombart, the first guy I beat in the Industrial Road bouts. Great, I’m sure he’ll be a load of laughs. They motion for me to stop. Butch frisks me. Nothing in my pockets or sides, but unfortunately he notices the knife I had desperately tucked into my sock.

Inside the room, Bombart shows the knife to Balducci. Balducci is stone-faced. He shakes his head in disappointment. He steps to the side and reveals Rocky. She isn’t tied up, but Bino has a gun to her head. Rocky’s eyes are bloodshot, as red as her auburn hair. She’s been crying non-stop, that much is clear, and it’s breaking my heart.

I have a gut-wrenching flash of insight: Rocky’s not the bait; I am. Rocky is merely the bait to get the bait. I was thinking Balducci was going to pump me for information and then kill me. Now I’ve changed my mind. For some reason, he must think Sev values me. He thinks Sev will call off the Industrial Road takeover to get my hide back. Of course, there is no fucking way Sev will trade me to stop this mission; that was understood from the beginning. When this twisted fuck figures out there’s no trade, he’s going to torture the shit out of Rocky and me.

I’m thinking of Georgie’s head in the locker and Hector being skinned alive and I know I can’t let that happen here. If I get him to kill us fast, I might be able to save Rocky from horrible pain. The result is the same, but I may have some control over the method. If I go hard at Balducci, they’ll have no choice but to kill me.

I’m up against Butch Bombart, another goon I never
saw before, Bino and Balducci. I’m sure they all have guns,
but only Bino is showing his. Here’s the thing: I’m probably a few seconds away from getting my ribs broken or legs smashed. They’re going to render me useless. When that happens, they control the whole agenda. They want me alive, that much is clear. I’ve been a sitting duck the whole time I was on the Kosher World premises, so they want me alive ... but ineffective.

If I get to Balducci, maybe get to his throat, they may shoot me. I have to be on Balducci hard and fast. I fought Butch Bombart, worked with Bino and can’t imagine this other goon is getting much action at the Mensa meetings. If I’m on top of Balducci, then Bino will have to move his gun off Rocky. If I can get at him efficiently enough, maybe, just maybe, Rocky can make a run for it. I can scare them enough to kill me, but it’s a crapshoot with Rocky.

The endgame looks bad; I hate to admit it, but that’s an honest overview. I’m accepting that I’m dead and I’m getting Rocky killed as well. Balducci doesn’t leave loose ends. As shitty as it sounds, if I do nothing, we’re both goners the slow, hard way; if I act, maybe she dies fast, but maybe she has a shot to get out of here in whatever chaos I can cause.

I calmly say, “Jimmy, before you do anything crazy, I think I have a solution here.” I continue to spew some bullshit as tranquilly as possible. It’s so absurd that even I can’t fathom what I am saying. Then I sprint full speed toward Balducci and, son of a bitch, I make it to him. I knock him over and have him by the throat. I’ve got a grip on his neck that would asphyxiate an elephant. Balducci, being management, isn’t much of a fighter. I roll him over on the ground, trying to make myself a moving target and tougher to shoot at, all the time, squeezing his throat. What a sight this must be. Maybe I can kill him before they shoot me.