Sweet Vengeance (3 page)

He
ignored the blood running down his arm and steeled his emotions as he listened
to Max call ahead to arrange medical care.  If they hurried, she'd be fine.  He
wasn't nearly as worried about his own gunshot wound as he was about hers. 
Both of them needed attention, but the woman he held had definitely gone into shock. 

Doc
Green would fix her up, just like he'd done for Jase a million times over. 
Then Jase would help her get some place out of the line of fire.

Jase
knew her name was Allie and that she lived just off Fremont Street.  Men in his
business had to know the players and everyone associated with them.  Still, he
hadn't paid much attention to her, considering the fact her boyfriend was a
fairly new pawn in the game.

Her
dark hair had fallen over her face and lay in a puddle in his lap.  He thought
of the bright green eyes that hid behind her silken hair and closed eyelids.

Innocent. 
That's what her eyes had conveyed to him as they'd stared at each other, hiding
from the flying bullets.  Innocent about life.  Innocent of the drug schemes
that were rampant in this part of the city.  Young and innocent.  She certainly
didn't belong in the middle of a drug war.  Unfortunately, she was associated
with someone who'd jumped head first into that dangerous world.

Her
boyfriend, Joey.  He was another story.  "What's up with the hit
tonight?" Jase asked, as Max put away his cell phone.  Max was as seasoned
as he was.  Together, they'd become a festering thorn in the side of the
Trasatti family, among others in Chicago.  Maybe his sidekick could provide the
link.  "Why the kid?  Why now?"

"That's
exactly what I'm wondering."  Max glanced at Jase in the rearview mirror
before turning on to Harbor Avenue.  They'd almost made it to their warehouse
that sat along the Chicago River in the north end of the city.

"He
wasn't a player and not much of a threat to any of the families around here. 
Hell, Trasatti, himself, probably didn't even know he existed."  He
shifted Allie in his arms, trying to keep her from falling completely onto his
lap.  The soft scent of a musky perfume caught his attention, and he leaned his
head closer to hers for a second whiff.  Damn.  In spite of everything, he had
a hard time ignoring the fact that he found her attractive.  "He was a
punk kid running a few deliveries."

Max
paused before answering.  "Actually, he was a little more than that."

That
surprised Jase.  "Really?"  The sound of sirens in the distance was
not a good sign.

Max
must have noticed, too, but he kept driving at an even pace so they wouldn't
attract any attention.  Good thing the cover of darkness hid the bullet holes
in the car and hopefully the shattered back window.  "Joey Pagano was the
best friend of Trasatti's grandson.  I think Trasatti had plans to make them a
team."  Max glanced in the rearview mirror.  "You know what I mean?"

Jase
narrowed his eyes, gazing at the back of Max's hat.  "Why didn't you say
something before?"

"I
just heard about it this morning."  He slowed and turned into the open
bay.  As soon as the car was inside, one of their men closed the aluminum door
behind them.  "I hadn't had time to check my sources, and the next thing I
knew, we got the tip on the possible hit tonight.  I had no idea it would be
Joey Pagano.  By the time I realized who it was, bullets were flying."

"Shit,
Max."  He shook his head.  "I need to know this stuff before it
happens."

Max
continued driving slowly through the long cement building before coming to a
stop.  The warehouse workers used forklifts to move pallets of wooden crates in
the wake they'd left behind them, making it seem as though no car could have
made it any farther than the front area.  The cops would need a search warrant
in order to find anything to connect them to the shooting. 

Max
came around and opened Jase's door.  Before he could remove Allie from the car,
he heard Mario Giambetti talking behind him.  "They're a block away,
boss.  You'd better hurry." 

Jase
met Max's gaze before scooping Allie into his arms.  He carried her to a
waiting golf cart and held her as he sat on the passenger side.  Max, once
again, took the driver's seat.  Jase held Allie tight against him as Max drove
them farther into the warehouse between towers of boxed up products, before
stopping in front of a dead-end wall.  Two warehouse men pushed a huge rack of
boxes out of the way to reveal an entryway just large enough for the golf
cart.  The rack appeared to be a permanent fixture too heavy to move, but a
closer look showed it to be on wheels, filled with empty boxes.

Jase
had learned a long time ago that most people never looked too far beyond the
surface.

The
light dimmed as the workers moved the rack back in place, sealing them in the
hidden tunnel that ran inside the rear wall.  Only a few lights along the edge
lit their way.

It
had not been an easy thing, hiding a passageway and an accompanying apartment
in an existing warehouse along the waterfront, but it had come in handy on more
than one occasion.

*       
*        *

Light
behind Allie's eyelids brought her slowly awake.  She blinked several times,
trying to clear the fog from her brain.  Everything was fuzzy and scattered,
and...
where the hell was she
? 

Not
in her bedroom, that was for sure.  But her limbs were so heavy, and she
couldn't think straight.  She gave into the woozy feeling and let her eyes
close. 

She
rested for a moment, enjoying the warm, comfortable bed.  It was nice.  So
nice.  Mmm...  But not hers—the unwelcome thought popped into her head, jolting
her back to consciousness.  She forced herself to focus on a wooden dresser
several feet away, trying to remember how she'd gotten there.  But nothing made
sense. 

The
beige walls were blank slates.  All she could see out the half-open blinds was
blue sky.  And the large potted palm sitting in the corner was a foreigner. 
Everything was so beige—the bed, the walls, everything.  Beige and boring.

She
shut her eyes again.  Maybe it was a dream.  Dreams were like that, weren't
they?  Weird things that didn't make sense.  Strange houses.  Strange people. 
She snuggled deeper into her pillow, ready to let herself fall back to sleep. 
If she were truly awake anyway.

A
growl brought her eyes open wide.  A furry, black blob jumped up on the bed
next to her as she sucked in a surprised breath.  The dog stood with his nose
only inches from hers, watching her with liquid brown eyes, an orange ball
clenched in its teeth.  Before she could react, it growled again, the sound
muffled by the ball.  This time it didn't seem so fierce.  With a low bark, the
large pup dropped the rubber ball on her chest. 

Her
furry visitor watched each movement she made as she picked up the ball and
tossed it off the bed.  The dog leapt through the air and bounded after it. 
Before she could settle back in, the cute canine returned with the ball in its
mouth.  It growled and dropped it on her again. 

Allie
smiled.  Her friend was black with a white chest.  Its front paws had been
dipped in the same white paint.  She reached out and ruffled the dog's chest,
enjoying the way its fur felt against her fingertips.  He was sweet and soft.

The
gauze on her hands stopped her.  She turned her palms toward her, trying to
remember why they were bandaged. 

"He'll
never stop if you keep playing with him."

She
jerked her head toward the husky voice coming from a chair in the corner of the
room near the head of the bed.  Her vision swam from her quick movements, but
slowly a familiar face came into view.  He had the most hauntingly beautiful
dark eyes.  Allie swallowed her surprise.  He'd been in the room with her the
whole time.  "You." 

"Get
down, Boo."  The man watched her as the dog lowered his ears and jumped to
the floor.  "Do they hurt?"  He nodded at her bandaged hands.

"No." 
She wondered if she should be alarmed, being alone in the same room with a
strange man, but her fear was quickly replaced by a fuzzy, disoriented
feeling.  She bent her fingers.  "Well, maybe a little."   

Allie
looked back at the man.  "I'm sorry.  This is all a little unreal to
me."  Memories of the previous night—crazy memories hovered at the edge of
her mind.  "You were there..." 

She
tried to hold them back, but looking into his eyes brought everything to the
surface.  "Joey?"  She whispered the name as tears sprung to her
eyes.  "He's dead?" 

She
already knew the answer, but watching the man confirm it with a nod of his head
broke her heart.

"Why
would someone kill him?"  She brought a hand to her face, trying to steady
herself and the dizzying room.

"Consider
who he was associated with.  It happens to drug dealers."  The man
shrugged.  "Occupational hazard, it goes with the job."

"No." 
She didn't want to hear that.  "No, not Joey."  But she knew it was
true.  She'd avoided recognizing the signs, but deep down, she knew he was
involved in some bad things.  "He was a good guy." 

"Not
as good as you might think."

"And
we were...shot, too, weren't we?"  The lump in her throat thickened as she
tried to contain her tears.  Joey had been murdered last night, and she and the
man sitting next to her almost had been, too.  "You saved me."  God. 
It was too much to think about. 

She
flicked a glance at her left arm, remembering the moment when she'd realized
she'd been shot.  Her arm had been wrapped in gauze as well.  The sight of her
injury brought a dull thud which began to throb.  She sat up farther in bed,
the action making her woozy.

"Slow
down."  The stranger moved over and sat on the bed.  "The painkillers
Doc Green gave you are going to make you a little off-balance."

Painkillers
?  Would they
hurt her baby?  "What did he give me?" 

"I'm
not sure."  He studied her with solemn eyes.  "I'd have to check the
bottle."

She
nodded.  There was a lot to think about.  A lot to process from the previous
night, but she couldn't do it right now.  She needed to get her feet back under
her first.

She
caught him watching her.  He seemed wary of what she'd say or do.  That was
understandable, she supposed.  They didn't know each other and both had been
through a traumatic night.

Feeling
uncomfortable under his scrutiny, she dropped her gaze.  It fell squarely on
well-sculpted muscles that were showcased by his tight T-shirt.  He was built
like he was made of steel.  Power radiated off him even in his relaxed state.

How
did a girl ignore muscles like that?  She'd noticed his hard body last night,
remembered pressing herself against him in the car.  And he'd felt good.  Safe.

Blowing
out a breath, she forced her gaze away, catching sight of the matching gauze
wrap on his left arm.  The reminder brought her emotions back to the surface. 
The horrible images wouldn't stay away. 

She
put her hands to her face, wiping tears with her fingertips.  Her emotions were
raw, open.  She needed to clear away the fuzziness so she could think of what
to do.  "I need to go home now."  She needed to get out of that
stupid beige room before her heart broke wide open, and she flooded the bed
with her fears and sorrow.  She needed a corner to crawl into where she could
grieve in private.  Plus, she had to find out where they'd taken Joey's body. 
His mother would be devastated.

"You
can't leave."  Her rescuer's expression was earnest, concerned, but his
words threatened her.

"What
do you mean, I can't leave?  Am I a hostage or something?"  She'd just
begun to think she could trust him.  She pushed the blanket off and rolled
until her feet hit the floor.  She was pretty good natured until people tried
to force her to do things like Aunt Rita had, and then she fought back.

The
room tilted and her knees threatened to buckle under her.  She grabbed the
bedpost for support.  Before she could steady herself enough to move, the man
was at her side, putting a strong arm around her, his chest against her back.

"Come
on.  Sit."  He pulled her down next to him.  "You're in no condition
to go anywhere."

He
was right.  The spinning room made her nauseous and oh...  The helplessness of
her situation was the last straw.  Her life was a mess.  The floodgates opened
and tears coursed down her face.

She
didn't fight him when he pulled her tighter into his arms.  There was no
holding back the painful sobs any longer.  Joey was gone.  Her life, her plans
for the future destroyed.  She couldn't go back to her aunt's now and pretend
things were okay.  Nothing was okay.  The police would be looking for her.  The
mob wanted to kill her.  At the moment, it was more than she could handle.

At
some point, the stranger managed to hand some tissues to her.  Time passed and
her crying slowed and then stopped.  She sucked in a breath to gather herself. 

"You've
had a bad shock."  He handed her a fresh tissue and then rested his hand
on her forearm.  He seemed to rethink his action and wrapped his arm around her
instead.  "I know how you feel."  His voice was raspy, raw with
emotion.  She lifted her face and met his tortured gaze.  "I've lost
people I loved, too," he said, tucking her head under his chin as though
to avoid her scrutiny.  "It was a long time ago.  Yours—this—it brings it
all back."