Body of Trust - Jeannine Colette Page 0,71
knocked out. “Valedictorian, and she can’t get simple goddamn instructions down.”
He kicks my chair, pushing me over so my body crashes to the floor. He’s standing over me as he yells, “Raphael had better get his money in order because I want my money, or they’re all dead—Raphael, Frank, Enzo, and Joey. They’re all going because Carlo Lugazzi doesn’t play games. Not anymore.”
“You’d never. You’ll start a war!”
“Then, they should have thought twice before they fucked with me. And you, little miss, are going away for a long time.”
“What for?” I ask as he snaps his fingers, making his thugs pick up my chair and right it.
When I look up at Carlo, he’s smiling. “For trying to fix the Mega Lotto. You are going to get decades for that, princess.”
“It was a stupid plan that didn’t work! You can’t blackmail me because …” I close my eyes and try to think of something I just can’t explain. I’m not where I belong. I was in my car, and I was pulled over. “Salinger,” I breathe.
Carlo flicks his ashes on my legs. “Did you know he grew up in the Bronx? We were altar boys together. Very tight, as the kids say.”
Salinger was the double agent Jesse was talking about. He gave his trust to the wrong man. Only a handful of people know Jesse exists, and Salinger is one of them, meaning the department is compromised and Jesse’s life is in danger. I need to get to him, save him. Lugazzi will kill him for sure.
“What can I do to make this right?” I plead. “There has to be something. DeLuca and I can—”
“Tragic actually. DeLuca suffered a heart attack on the drive home. Poor out-of-shape bastard.”
The burn of tears is painful in my throat. “Please don’t say that.”
“Coroner already picked up the body. It was a possible crash too. The interstate is backed up to the bridge.”
“Carlo, please. I can help. If you wanted me arrested, you would have done it. You brought me here for a reason. Why?”
“You’re right about that.” He takes out his phone and snaps a picture. “Just smile for Daddy.”
The bright light of the camera blinds me.
I’m shaking off the constant white light in my eyes when the door opens again. Two more thugs come barreling in, dragging a man by his feet. They throw him on the ground.
Carlo looks down at the man, disgusted. “What a shame. He had such a pretty face. Oh, well.” He throws up his hands and walks to the door, barking orders, “Tie him up, and when he wakes, he’ll be smart enough to give up what he knows. And if he doesn’t, kill him.”
“Yes, sir,” one thug grumbles as they hoist the man up by his underarms.
I gasp when I see it’s Jesse.
He’s bruised, and beaten to a pulp from head to toe. His left eye is swollen, and the right is squeezed tight, like he passed out in pain. His lip is thick, and his arm hangs, looking as if it’s broken.
“This is the boyfriend, no?” a thug says to me with a laugh.
“Mob daughter fell for a cop. What a joke.” The other takes out zip ties, and they strap them to Jesse’s arms and legs, securing him to the chair, just as they did to me.
“Be careful!” a thug by the door shouts to me. “When he wakes, he’ll probably piss himself.”
They all laugh as they march out and close the door with a thud.
It’s quiet now. The kind of eerie silence that makes me sad. A cold draft whispers in the air around the cinder-block walls. There’s little light in the room, only what is given from the edges of the door frame.
“Jesse,” I call out to him, but he doesn’t budge.
My heart plummets, and my chin trembles as I stare at him, bloodied and broken. I’m shaken by his stillness, and yet I have to get to him. I need to be near him to see if my love is still alive.
I wobble my chair and scoot as hard as I can, inching toward him. It takes too long for me to get to him, and I’m not anywhere near him.
My knee brushes his, and that’s enough.
“Jesse, wake up, baby,” I plead. “You have to wake up. Jesse!” My voice is loud as I try to rouse him. When he fails to flinch, my heart drops as I realize he’s more than banged up. He’s unconscious. “Oh, Jesse. I messed up. I