Reno's Gift (Mob Boss Series) (2 page)

“Who’s
the girl, Brew?” Reno asked Bruno again.

“She’s
a nobody like Pop said,” Bruno responded with a frown.
 
“Whatta you asking me for?”

The
Dolph slapped his son upside his head.
 
“Because it’s your ass he’s trying to help!” he yelled.
 
“Now shut the fuck up!”
 
He looked at Reno.
 
“Don’t mind this idiot.
 
That mouth.
 
That’s why he’s in the shithole he’s in today.
 
Because of that mouth.
 
But just an alibi, Reno.
 
That’s all we need.
 
Can you do that for me, Ree?”

But
Reno was unmoved.
 
“No,” he said without
hesitation.
 
“No way.
 
I wouldn’t alibi that cocksucker even if my
own life depended on it.”

Bruno
jumped from his seat, ready to fight, but his old man slammed him back
down.
 
“Are you out of your mind?” the
Dolph asked his son. “That’s Reno Gabrini you’re challenging!
 
He’ll squash you like a cockroach, what’s
wrong with you?”

Reno
stood to his feet.
 
Enough of this.
 
He felt for the Dolph, he really did, but he
wasn’t about to allow the Dolph or anybody else to pull him into any defense of
Brew.
 
He paid his debt.
 
He paid Dolph back in spades.
 
His obligation was done, as far as Reno was concerned.
 
“I have a meeting to attend, gentlemen,” he
said as he stood.
 
“And I need to get to
it.”

But
the Dolph stood up with desperation in his voice.
 
“Reno, please,” he said.

Bruno
was astounded.
 
“Don’t beg him, Pop!” he
yelled and grabbed at his father.

But
the Dolph snatched away from his son.
 
“He’s my only son, Reno.
 
He’s in
trouble.
 
He’s never been in this kind of
trouble before.
 
He’s looking at twenty
years in prison if that girl goes through with this.”

Adolpho’s
reaction gave Reno pause.
 
To see him
begging on behalf of his son like that was tough.
 
He thought of his own father, and how he
would feel if his old man was reduced to this.
 
In a way, it broke Reno’s heart.
 

But
the Dolph kept begging.
 
“You’re not dirt
like we are,” he said.
 
“Your hands are
clean.
 
You’re a respected
businessman.
 
You’re legit.
 
Everybody looks up to you.
 
If you can just help us.”

“I
hear what you’re saying, Dolph, but I can’t do it.
 
There’s no way in hell I’m going to the cops
to alibi Bruno.
 
I can’t do that.”

“But
Reno---”

“I’m
not going to do that, Dolph.
 
Seriously.”

“Then
go to the girl,” Dolph said with even more desperation in his voice.

Even
Bruno looked at his father.
 
“What are
you talking?” he asked him.

“Go
to the girl, Reno,” the Dolph said, ignoring his son.
 
“We can’t do it.
 
If we’re seen as harassing her in any way, or
doing anything to her, they already told us they would take it out on my son.
 
They’d give him even more years in
prison.
 
But you, Reno, you can help
us.
 
You can go to her and talk to
her.
 
Tell her I’ll pay her if she drop
the charges and leave town.
 
Tell her to
recant.
 
Here,” the Dolph said as he
attempted to hand that check back to Reno.
 
“You can give this entire check to her.
 
She’s a waitress, she’ll accept it.
 
It’s more money than she’s ever likely to see in her entire life.
 
Please, Reno.
 
This is my only boy.
 
I need him.
 
He’s all I’ve got.
 
It’ll kill his momma if they toss him into
prison for all those years.
 
Please.”

Reno
was always amazed at how loving mobsters were toward their own families.
 
They didn’t give a shit about anybody else’s,
but they loved and cherished their own.

Reno
grew up in a family just like the Dolph’s.

Reno
felt trapped by that very fact.

“I’ll
see what I can do,” he finally said with a reluctant nod of the head.

And
although Reno agreed to only talk to the girl, nothing more than that, the
Dolph rejoiced anyway.
 
Because it was a
legendary truth in Vegas.
 
Reno Gabrini’s
word was like money in the bank.

 
“Here’s your Big Boyzie burger,” the waitress
said as she sat the plate of food in front of Reno, “with our very own
Boy-licious fries.”

“Thanks,
Myra,” Reno said as he eyed the food.

They
were in Boyzie’s, a sleazy strip joint in Vegas, and the pretty blonde waitress
just stood there.
 
Because he said her
name.
 
How would he know her name?
 
Boyzie was cheap.
 
He didn’t even give them nametags for their
uniforms.
 

Reno
looked at her.
 
“You are Myra Rause,
aren’t you?”

“Yeah,
but, how did you know?
 
I don’t know
you.”

Reno
extended his hand.
 
“Reno Gabrini,” he
said as she shook his hand.
 
“Now you
know me.”

“Reno
Gabrini?” she asked.
 
“Aren’t you the
fella that owns the PaLargio?”

“See,”
Reno said with an alluring smile.
 
“You
do know me.”

“But
how did you know my---”

“We
need to talk, Myra,” Reno said as he took a bite into his burger.
 
He was hungry as hell.
 
“When does your shift end?”

Myra
stared at the handsome businessman.
 
She
instinctively knew it was about Bruno Lucci.
 
Not only because the guy was Italian, but also because there would be
nothing else for a man like him to want to talk to a girl like her about.
 
“Not for another three hours,” she said.

“Can
you get somebody to cover for you?
 
All I
need is ten minutes of your time.”

“What
do you wanna talk about?”

“You
know what it’s about,” Reno said, taking another bite.
 
Then he looked his startling blue eyes up at
her.
 
“Get somebody to cover for you.”

Myra
stared at him.
 
She always heard that
Reno Gabrini was a mob-connected man of ethics and integrity who didn’t
compromise his principles.
 
It made no
sense to her then, and it especially made no sense to her now.
 
Because if he was so ethical, she wondered,
why would he be in league with a lowlife like Bruno Lucci?
 
Why would a man like him want to help out a
creep like that?
 

But
she was too intrigued to not at least hear what he had to say.
 
She wasn’t leaving the premises with him, but
she would hear what he had to say.

She
looked around.
 
It was crowded in
Boyzie’s and everybody appeared busy.
 
The strippers hadn’t come on stage yet, so every waitress had her hands
full.
 

Until
she saw Trina Hathaway, approaching her with an empty tray in her hand.
 
Myra couldn’t stand that particular waitress,
but she would have to do.

“I
need your help, Tree,” she said as Trina came nearer.

Trina
continued to make her way toward Myra, staring at her.

“Can
you cover for me?”

“It’s
not your break yet.”

Myra
wanted to roll her eyes.
 
“I know,
Tree.
 
That’s why I need you to cover my
tables.
 
I need to talk to him.”
 
Myra nodded toward Reno.
 
“It’ll only take ten minutes.”

Trina
looked at Myra, who was always up to something, and then she looked at the man
seated at the table.
 
Chestnut brown
hair, big blue eyes.
 
Of course he would
be drop dead gorgeous.
 
Myra didn’t mess
with them unless they were damn near the prettiest person in the room.
 
But ten minutes?
 
With that guy?
 
Trina knew, if she agreed, she’d be handling
My’s station for more like thirty-forty minutes.
 
Unlike Trina, Myra was one of those silly-ass,
dreamy-eyed waitresses who actually believed she was going to find herself a
husband in a strip joint like Boyzie’s.

“Ten
minutes,” Trina said as if she was warning Myra that it had better not be
longer than that, and then she continued walking away.

“Come
with me,” Myra said to Reno.
 

Reno
wiped his mouth, dropped his napkin on the table, and followed her.
 
As he walked, he glanced back at the cute
black waitress Myra called Tree.
 
“Who’s
your friend?” he asked as they headed for the back.

“My
friend?” Myra asked as if she was offended.
 
“That nigger?”

Reno
shook his head as he continued to follow her.
 
Leave it to Bruno Lucci, he thought, to find a racist yahoo like her
attractive.

But
even a racist yahoo didn’t deserve to be brutalized.
 

They
were in one of the lap dance/private session rooms inside Boyzie’s.
 
And although it reeked to high heavens to
Reno, and he personally wouldn’t be caught dead in a hellhole like this, that
wasn’t what this was about.
 
He was doing
the Dolph a favor.
 
Nothing more, nothing
less.
 
He had asked Reno to talk to the
girl, and Reno was talking to the girl.

He
asked her what happened.
 
He certainly
wasn’t going to take Bruno’s word for it.
 
And she gladly told him her side of the tale.
 

When
she finished, Reno exhaled.
 
“So what
you’re saying is that you went over to his house, it was late, and you guys
started making out.”

“We
were kissing, that’s all,” she said.

“And
then he wanted more, or so you claim.
 
You said no, he couldn’t have more, and then he raped you?”

“Why
you got to say it like that?
 
You make it
sound like it’s a lie.
 
But it’s
not.
 
It’s the truth!”

“Yeah,
right.”

“It
is the truth!”

“Who
do you think you’re talking to? You think I’m some fucking novice?
 
I’ve been around broads like you all my
life.
 
You go to the guy’s house, it’s
two o clock in the morning or whatever the fucking time it was, and you figure
all he wants to do is kiss you?”

“But
you make it sound as if. . . I’m not a whore, Mr. Gabrini.”

“You’re
a sewer-dwelling whore from the lowest rung, who do you think you’re fucking
with?
 
You gave it up and you gave it up
willingly!”

“I
didn’t!”

“You
did and you know you did!”

“He
forced me!”

“Yeah,
right.”

“Okay!”
Myra screamed.
 
“Okay.
 
At first I did give it up.
 
I did.
 
But he changed on me.
 
He wanted
more and more and then he got mad at me because he couldn’t get it up those
other times.
 
He started . . . He started
slamming his fist into my vagina like it was my fault.
 
And he kept fisting me.
 
He said he was trying to loosen it up, that
sick fuck!
 
Then he. . .
 
Then he. . .”

Reno
stared at her.
 
“Then he what?” he asked
her.

Her
eyes were now big and bright, as if she was reliving every moment of that
night.
 
Then she lifted her uniform,
dropped her panties, and sat up on the dance table.
 
She opened her legs wide.
 
“Then he did this to me,” she said with tears
in her eyes.