Sal Gabrini 4: I'll Take You There (The Gabrini Men Series Book 7) (4 page)

“Vegas
it is,” the pilot said, and proceeded to notify Air Traffic Control of the
change.

CHAPTER THREE

It
was almost eleven at night when the cab drove up to the small, suburban house.
 
Sal got out and buttoned his suit coat.
 
“Wait here,” he ordered.
 
The cabdriver, knowing the meter was running,
gladly obliged.

Sal
walked up to the door of the frame-styled house and rang the bell.
 
He was tired and didn’t have time for this
shit, but he’d learned long ago, from his cousin Reno no less, to leave no
stone unturned.
 
Fucker fuck with you,
you’d better fuck’em back.

After
several more rings, the door was finally unlocked and opened.

“Damn,
Teri,” Sal said.
 
“What the hell took you
so long?”

Teri
Burk, the same tattooed young woman who had been in Gemma’s law office,
smiled.
 
This visit was no total surprise
to her.
 
She’d been expecting him.
 
“Hey Sal Luca.
 
What’s shaking, man?”

“What’s
up?”
 
He didn’t wait to be invited
in.
 
He walked on in.
 

She
loved it.
 
It was late at night; she
hadn’t seen him in a while; maybe they’d hook up.
 
She knew he was going to be upset about her
little visit today to that chick’s office, but she also remembered Sal
well.
 
He was going to want some.
 
Whenever they were together in the past, they
ended up fucking.

She
looked out of the door before shutting it, and saw the cab waiting.
 
She also knew Sal well enough to know to stay
on guard.
 
He might try to browbeat her a
little for making that visit, but she would have to make certain that was all
he did to her.
 
And she was prepared for
that.
 
She closed the front door.

And
turned toward him.
 
He was dressed in his
usual style.
 
Armani suit this time,
imported shoes, but tonight she noticed he also wore leather gloves.
 
She thought he looked more like a gangster
than the businessman he claimed to be, but that was alright too.
 
She knew he was a little of both.
 
“Long time, no see, Sal Luca,” she said to
him.
 
“I miss you.”

“Yeah?”
 
Sal glanced down the length of her.
 
She used to be good.
 
Not the best.
 
Gemma was the best.
 
But not bad
either.
 
He used to hit it.
 
He used to hit it repeatedly.

She
saw his eyes trailing down her body.
 
She
unlatched her robe, revealing her white breasts, her flat stomach.
 
The narrow snatch of pubic hair between her
legs.
 
“You don’t know how much I’ve
missed you,” she said.
 
“No man has been
able to do me better.
 
And I mean none.”

She
was wasting her time, Sal thought, as he glanced at her now exposed body, but
then began looking around, surveying his surroundings.
 
Clasping his gloves together.
 
“You visited my woman,” he said.

Teri
didn’t like his sudden disinterest.
 
She
tied her robe once more.
 
“I visited your
whore,” she said.
 
“You’re right about
that.”

Sal
looked at her, fighting to contain himself.
 
“My whore?”

“Your
black whore, yes.
 
Gemma Jones, I think
is her name?
 
I was told to serve her
notice, and that’s what I did.”

“You
were told to
what
?”

“To
serve her notice.”

Sal
frowned.
 
“What the fuck kind of notice?”

“That
marrying you is not going to happen.”

How
would she or anybody else know about their decision to get married?
 
That wasn’t public knowledge.
 
His family didn’t even know yet, and Gemma’s
either.
 
“And who told you to serve her
this notice?” he asked.

“Don’t
know and don’t care.
 
It was a blind job,
and I took it.”

A
blind job, Sal thought.
 
Meaning whoever
hired her didn’t want to be known.
 
But
before he could ask another question, Teri pulled a switchblade from her robe
pocket, flung it open, and pointed it at Sal.

“Just
so you know who you’re dealing with,” she said.
 
“I’m not the girl you used to fuck and leave and throw a few dollars to
keep her quiet.
 
I’m not that girl
anymore.
 
I know your ass now.”

 
But Sal looked at her, and then that switchblade
as if she was still very much that girl.
 
As if she was playing little girl games with a grown-ass man.
 
And without warning, he grabbed her wrist
with one hand, debilitating her ability to manage the knife, and then took the
knife from her with the other hand.
 
Then
he twisted her small body around until he was grabbing her from behind, and had
his arm around her neck.

“What
are you doing?” she asked, stunned by his swiftness.

“You
had the audacity to point this knife at me?” Sal asked.
 
“You had the audacity to threaten me
and
my woman?”

“I
wasn’t threatening you, Sal!
 
I was
protecting myself.
 
I wasn’t going to use
it!”

“You
went to see my woman,” Sal went on, as if she had not said a word.
 
“You threatened her.”
 
He tightened his grip on her, causing her to
wince in pain.
 
“Do you realize how
fucking stupid that was?”

“But
it was a warning!
 
They paid me to warn
her.”

“Who
paid you?”

“I
don’t know!
 
They called me, told me what
to do, and then somebody put the money in my mailbox.
 
I never dealt with anybody in person.
 
I never saw anybody.
 
I never even had a phone number!
 
They told me to warn Gemma Jones.
 
That’s all I went over there to do.
 
To warn her.”

But
his grip on her tightened even harder, and he placed that blade to her
face.
 
“But you did more than that.
 
Didn’t you, Teri?”

“I
warned her!”

“You
slapped her.! You had the audacity to put your hands on her, Teri!
 
You think I’m going to let you get away with
that shit?”

Teri’s
heart began to pound.
 
“But I didn’t
touch her, Sal!” she insisted.
 
“She’s
lying to you, what are you doing?”
 
The
blade sunk down into her cheek.
 
Her
small eyes were now staring at that blade, and then over at Sal.
 
“Let me go, Sal.
 
You aren’t gonna hurt me and you know
it.
  
You know
 
me.
 
Stop playing now!
 
You won’t hit a
woman and you know it!”

“I
won’t hit a woman,” Sal said.
 
“You’re
right about that.
 
But I’ll cut a bitch.”

And
he did.
 
He frowned angrily and sliced
Teri deep down across her pretty face as if he was slicing an apple.
 
She screamed out with severe pain and began
buckling against him so hard that he let her go.
 
She hurried away from him, falling against
the wall, and placed her hands on the side of her face, trying to staunch the
blood flow.
 
Astonished that he would do
such a thing to her.

“Whoever
hired you,” Sal said calmly as he pulled out a handkerchief and began wiping
the blood off the blade, “had better understand one thing.”
 
He looked at her, so that she would
understand it too.

She
wanted him away from her, she wasn’t trying to understand anything.
 
She had already underestimated him beyond any
underestimation she’d ever demonstrated in her life.
 
Why should he care about some black bitch
when he never cared about her?
 
That was
her estimation when she first entered Gemma Jones’ office.
 
Sal didn’t care about this bitch.
 
But he cared.
 
She couldn’t believe how much he cared!

When
he wouldn’t continue talking, she egged him on.
 
She wanted him out of her house.
 
She wanted him out of her life forever.
 
“What do they need to understand?” she asked him.

“They
need to know,” Sal said, “that they’d better not fuck with me.”
 
He was so calm that it chilled her to her
core.
 
“If they’re thinking about it,
they’d better think again.
 
If warning my
woman was some kind of opening salvo, they’d better shut the shit down
now.
 
And if any other female decides to
come anywhere near my woman and warn her, they’d better take a good look at
your ugly-ass face.
 
It will not be
pretty.
 
And I’ll do worse with the next
fucker who tries it.”

Sal
stared at her.
 
She was staring at him,
still holding her face, still stunned that he could be so cruel.
 

But
he could be.
 

She
knew it now.

And
then he walked out of her life.

After
giving the cabdriver Gemma’s address, he leaned back in the seat, closed his eyes,
and tried to bring it back down again.
 
He tried to calm back down from yet another visit to the unsavory part
of his life.
 
But then his cell phone
rang.

He
looked at the Caller ID.
 
It was Angela,
the mother of the child Rip and Philly had snatched.

“Sal,
I’m so glad I caught you,” Angela said as soon as he clicked on.

“Save
it, Ang,” Sal responded.
 
“There’s
nothing new to report.
 
We still haven’t
found Rip.”

“He’s
home, Sal,” she said with excitement in her voice.
 
“He’s home!”

Sal
frowned.
 
“What are you talking?
 
Who’s home?”

“My
son!”

Sal
sat up in his seat.
 
“He’s home?”

“Yes!
 
He wasn’t snatched after all, Sal.
 
He was with his uncle.
 
Can you believe it?
 
His uncle thought Jace had told me where he
was going.
 
Isn’t that something?
 
Isn’t that wonderful news?
 
Jason is fine, Sal.
 
My boy’s fine!”

Sal
was motionless.
 
He couldn’t believe what
he was hearing.
 
He’s fine
?
 
A man was dead,
an innocent man in this matter, and the boy was
fine
?

“Is
this some sort of joke?” he asked her.

Her
voice changed.
 
“A joke?”

“Is
this some fucking joke?”

“What
are you talking, Sal?
 
I thought you’d be
happy!”

“Why
would you claim Rip snatched him, Ang, if you had no proof?”

“Because
Rip said so!
 
He called and told me
so!
 
And I called the police.”

Then
a thought occurred to Sal.
 
“Why did you
call me?” he asked.
 
“After you called
the cops, why did you call me?”

“I
told you why.
 
They were taking too
long.”

“Bullshit!
 
Why did you call me, Ang?”

Angela
hesitated.

“Why,
Ang?”

“Because
he told me to, alright?
 
He told me to!”

“Who
told you?
 
Who told you, motherfucker!”

“Rip!”
she yelled.
  
She calmed back down.
 
“Rip told me if I wanted to see my boy alive
again, I had to get in touch with you.”

Sal’s
mind was in overdrive.
 
What the fuck was
going on here?
 
“Rip,” he said, still
unable to digest it.
 
“Rip was the one
who . . .” He shook his head.
 
“I know
better than this, Ang.
 
I know better
than this.
 
Your ass played me?”