MOB BOSS 2:

THE HEART OF THE

MATTER

MALLORY MONROE

c2011

All rights reserved. Any use of the materials

contained in this book without the expressed writ-

ten consent of the author and/or her affiliates, is

strictly prohibited.

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3/385

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ONE

Reno Gabrini stepped into the shower

and allowed the warm water to careen down
his tanned, muscular body. He just stood
there, his hands flattened against the tiles,
his deep blue eyes closed to the reality of
the situation, to the anguish of what his rash
decision truly meant.

It was that fateful morning after, and

his emotions were so contradictory that he
didn’t know if he felt like the happiest man
alive, or the most selfish bastard ever cre-
ated. He’d just committed his life to Katrina
Hathaway, just vowed to love, honor, and
obey the only woman able to penetrate his
tough exterior and take him to a place he
never thought possible for him to go.

But this commitment, this new mar-

riage, also meant that he had taken her to his

place, into his world, a world that had his
associates, on his orders, killing that snake
Frank Partanna just as they were taking
those vows. And the fact that he went down
that road with her, knowing the heat on the
other side, knowing the kind of life he was
plunging her into, was beginning to seem
unforgiveable to Reno.

He showered quickly and stepped out

of the stall, his dark brown hair slicked back
to reveal a smooth, handsome face unable to
mask its anguish and despair. He took the
thick white towel and dried off, covering his
face far longer than it took to dry, still un-
able to believe what he had done.

When she’d made the decision to

leave him and come back here, to her ho-
metown of Dale, Mississippi, he knew he
should have let her go. If he truly loved her
the way he professed to love her, he should
have let her go. But nooo, not Reno. Not
the hotel big shot. His perverted, selfish

11/385

heart got in the way and off he went, hop-
ping a plane for Mississippi and marrying
her within the selfsame night, marrying her
into a life, his life, that no wonderful, spe-
cial lady like her should be anywhere near.
He took the towel and slung it against the
wall. It was done now, it was what it was,
but he still hated himself for doing it.

She was awake by the time he

reentered the bedroom. They were in some
ratty hotel in Dale, supposedly the best hotel
in town, after having a big wedding dinner
at her parents’ place and celebrating late in-
to the night. They barely had the energy to
make it back last night. Now Reno was pre-
paring to leave already.

“I still don’t see why I can’t go with

you,” Trina said. She was laying on her
stomach, completely naked, the outline of
her tight ass through the thin white sheet
that covered her causing Reno’s already
overactive penis to begin throbbing again.

12/385

“We’ve been through this already,

Tree,” he said, searching for a pair of briefs
in his hastily packed suit case, his gorgeous
naked body like a stature of male virility to
Trina. And just like that, she wanted him
inside her again.

“But you aren’t going back to Ve-

gas,” she said. “You’re going to New Jer-
sey. There’s no heat in Jersey.”

“And that’s where you’re wrong,

sweetheart.

That’s where the rest of

Partanna’s people are. That’s where he was
trying to set up his east coast base of opera-
tions, on Pop’s turf. I need to check things
out, check on my mother and sisters, make
sure Carmine’s got it all in hand. We took
care of the main players, but there’s still
some what you call residual players left.
And since I don’t know what I don’t know,
since I don’t know what I’m walking into,
you will stay put right here in safe little Dale
until I can assess the situation.”

13/385

Trina watched him as he slipped on

his briefs, his penis so massive that it made
him look loaded down with padding, only
she knew for a fact that Reno’s equipment
was all real. Then she closed her eyes.
Some marriage, she thought. Not that she
expected it to be normal. She didn’t. She,
after all, had just hitched her wagon to
Dominic “Reno” Gabrini, the owner of the
world renowned PaLargio Hotel and Casino,
a man whose father was a major mob boss
for years before Frank Partanna’s people
gunned him down. And they were married
last night, just as Partanna himself was be-
ing hit, and hit on Reno’s orders. So she ex-
pected her marriage to be anything but
normal.

But she didn’t expect to spend the

first full day of that marriage alone.

Reno looked at her after he put on his

briefs. Looked at this wonderful woman
that was now his sole responsibility. And he

14/385

smiled. “I never promised you a rose
garden,” he said, causing her to smile, too.
Then his expression changed. This was too
serious to joke about. “You okay?” he asked
her.

Trina could have lied and said that

she was. Let him go on his merry way con-
tented. But she was no liar and wasn’t about
to begin her marriage that way. “Not really,
no,” she said. “But I understand you’ve got
to take care of your business. I understand
it.”

Reno loved her even more at that mo-

ment. She was a special lady, and he didn’t
deserve her. He walked over to the bed and
sat on the edge beside her gorgeous black
body, a body stretched out naked underneath
that sheet. “I’ll be back in a couple days,
babe,” he said, reaching underneath the
sheet and caressing her ass. “Then we’ll
plan our honeymoon. Okay?”

15/385

He couldn’t even promise her, on his

return, when they could actually get away
for a honeymoon. Because they couldn’t
any time soon. Because he still had serious
obligations at the PaLargio back in Vegas,
obligations he couldn’t delay any longer.
Which made him feel even worst. Which
made him want to kick himself for being
such a prick. He frowned. “I’m sorry,
Tree,” he said.

Trina stared at him, her big hazel

eyes narrowed to get a good look at him.
“What are you sorry about?”

Reno exhaled, his hand now resting

stationary on her bare backside. “Marrying
you,” he said.

Her heart dropped. “Marrying me?”

she asked.

“Yeah, marrying you,” he repeated.

“Bringing you into this crazy, fucked up
world of mine.” He frowned again. “I
should have been stronger, Tree. When you

16/385

left me, I should have let you come back
here and forget about it. I should have let
you go. I should have given you that chance
to have the kind of life you wanted to have,
not the kind I was ramming down your
throat. But saying goodbye to you?” He
shook his head. “I couldn’t do it.”

Trina stared at the man who was now

her husband, at his strong jawline, at his
beautiful sky-blue eyes, at his fine, ribbed,
muscular body, and she ached for him. “I’m
glad you couldn’t, Reno,” she said. “I
would have been devastated if you wouldn’t
have come and got me. I think I left be-
cause I needed you to come, I needed to be
absolutely sure that our love could withstand
all the things you have to put up with. You
aren’t ramming anything down my throat.”

Reno tried to smile. “You would

have been devastated, hun?” he asked
jokingly.

17/385

But Trina remained serious. “You

didn’t just marry me as if I had no say in the
matter. I married you, too. And I didn’t
come into this marriage with blinders on.
My eyes were wide open, bud, okay? I
knew what I was getting into.”

She didn’t know, Reno thought sadly,

not by a long shot. But he loved her for be-
ing strong, for at least trying to understand.
Ordering that hit to avenge the deaths of his
father and brother was the hardest thing he
ever had to do in his life. He was no mur-
derer! He believed in God for crying out
loud! He was no soulless killer who didn’t
understand the consequences of what he’d
done.

But he felt he had no choice but to do

it. He felt as if life had dealt him a sorry-ass
hand and he had to play it. But now blood
was on his hands. He was a tainted man
now. And Trina needed a man like him like
she needed a hole in the head.

18/385

But he needed her.

Trina stared deep into his troubled

eyes. She could see his anguish, could sense
how much he hated the decisions he’d made,
decisions he felt forced to make. “You
think there’ll be a mob war, don’t you,
Reno?”

But Reno shook his head. “With

Frank out of the picture and all of his major
players out with him, no,” he said, massa-
ging her ass more vigorously now. “There
won’t be a war. Partanna, you see, was nev-
er a very bright man. He was a fool if you
want to know the truth. He wanted more
power, that’s why he was trying to take over
Pop’s territory. He was west coast, he was
mickey mouse mafia, but he wanted in with
the big boys, with the east. But he didn’t
have the allegiances he needed, no outside
loyalties whatsoever. No back-up. Every-
body hated his guts. I mean everybody, all
the families. My old man’s pals, all of those

19/385

east coast mafia wise guys, figure his busi-
ness went down with the boss. Figure you
get rid of Partanna and the men always
around him, which is what we did, and
you’ve gotten rid of the Partanna organiza-
tion. The whole shebang. In truth, Tree, he
was an easy target.”

“Like your father was?” Trina asked

and she could tell it touched a nerve with
Reno.

He exhaled. Paulo Gabrini, his old

man, was a lone wolf in many ways just like
Frank Partanna, a boss who couldn’t rely on
the very men he trusted most. His backup
weren’t strong enough, Paulo used to always
agonize about. They didn’t have an ounce
of the toughness Reno had. Paulo trusted
Reno. He would have followed Reno to the
ends of the earth and desperately wanted
Reno in the business with him even up to
the time of his death. But Reno knew he

20/385

wasn’t cut out for some coldhearted gang-
ster life. He just wasn’t.

“Yeah,” Reno said, remembering

how badly his father wanted him in the busi-
ness, “like my old man. Except my old man
had plenty of friends. Everybody loved
Pops.”

“But his business went down with

him too, didn’t it?” She said this and stared
at Reno. She knew she was treading on
rough terrain, but she had to know what his
true intentions for going to Jersey were.
Was he going to make sure the heat was off,
as he was claiming, or to make sure his fath-
er’s various business ventures were still
alive and well and run by whom? Certainly
not Carmine or Dirty, Reno’s brother-in-
laws. Trina couldn’t see Reno putting those
two in charge of the entire Gabrini opera-
tion. That was why she needed to know if
her new husband was going to take over that
operation, an operation that she suspected

21/385

had far more illegal components than legal
ones.

“Carmine’s handling Pop’s affairs,”

Reno said, and he said it in a way that let
Trina know it was only words.

“But Carmine can’t handle it, can

he? I heard your own father say he
couldn’t. I heard your father say Carmine,
Dirty, and your late brother Joey together
couldn’t hold water to you.”

“Yeah, well, it ain’t my old man’s

business anymore. It’s Carmine’s now.
Carmine and Dirty’s. I’ll advise them, but
I’m not getting into that.”

But Trina was no fool. With his de-

cision to order Partanna’s death, she knew
he already was in “that” and in it deep.

Reno smiled and hit his wife lightly

on the butt. “Stop worrying,” he said. “I
got this, all right?”

Trina tried to smile too. Nothing

more she could do at this point. And then

22/385

she began thinking about him, and how ter-
ribly she was going to miss him. He was
going to miss her too, as his hand moved
down between her legs, expertly moving
down to her folds. When his fingers slid in
and began massaging the sides of her folds
and then her clit, she closed her eyes in a re-
laxed moan. She could feel his fingers slip-
ping into her, could feel the growing satura-
tion as he moved in and out of her. And he
started moaning too, his eyes staring at her
beautiful face, his heart amazed to have her
as his own. He wanted her to squirm, to feel
the enchantment he felt, as his fingers dug
deeper into her, circling inside of her, ab-
sorbing her wetness like a sponge of anticip-
ation. He continued to stare at her, he loved
the way she loved his touch. He couldn’t
take his eyes off of her.

And it was as plain as day how this

would end. He had a plane to catch, he
knew he had to get out of Dale, but no way

23/385

was he going anywhere without fucking her
first. Especially when he slid his now wet
fingers out of her, and the mouth of her va-
gina resisted his exit.

He stood up, his erection a revelation

in just how committed to fucking her he
really was, as he stepped out of his briefs,
removed the sheet from her naked body,
turned her onto her back, and opened her
legs.

Trina’s moan became a guttural

groan as his tongue moved in where his fin-
gers had been, and it, too, began to caress
her clit just the way she liked it. He kissed
it and sucked it and kept his head buried
between her legs as if he was on a treasure
hunt. Reno loved the way she tasted.
Loved the way she smelled. Loved the way
he could always bring her to orgasm just
with his tongue.

But she wanted to pleasure him, too.

He was always giving and giving, always

24/385

handling everything for her, now she wanted
to give back.

She allowed him to continue tasting

her, allowed herself to enjoy his wonderful,
caressing tongue, until he began to ease up.
As soon as he did, she closed her legs to
him. It was something he hadn’t expected,
especially when she took her hands and
pulled him onto the bed, onto his back.

He closed his eyes in sweet anticipa-

tion when she straddled him with her ass
backed up to his face, and began sucking his
penis with that slow, perfect lick he loved,
her tongue so soft on his skin. She kissed it,
jerked it, licked it. And when her mouth
covered it, and she began to take it in full,
his stomach muscles stretched with a feeling
so euphoric he thought he would cry. She
knew how to do him unlike any other wo-
man ever had. When she was slow, he
wanted it slow. When she sucked faster, he
wanted it fast. Now she was ferocious,

25/385

jerking it and sucking it and taking it in so
deep that he found himself squeezing her ass
to control his own intensity.

He massaged her ass as she sucked

him, until his tongue was licking her, too.
And he continued to eat her, continued to
kiss that ass he loved so much and to move
down further and suck on her clit as if he
was sucking for air. And her wetness only
made him want her more. For the longest
time she sucked him ferociously and he
sucked her vigorously, each unable to ima-
gine it any better than this.

But it was better because his penis

had expanded to such an extent that he knew
it was about to explode if he didn’t enter her
and enter her now.

He moved her onto her stomach,

saddled her legs, and entered her from be-
hind. She screamed in ecstasy as his
massive rod dug deep into her, as it slid in
and out like a tease, only the tease was as

26/385

intense as the main event, because the feel-
ing never wavered, never ebbed, but kept
getting stronger and stronger. Reno did her
that way. Of all the men she’d ever had,
Reno was the only one who kept her at the
highest level of intensity for the entire dura-
tion of their lovemaking. And his rod kept
sliding in and out, slowly in and out, making
her want it, making her willing to beg for it.

And he gave her more, as his move-

ments became less a slow drag and more a
jerk, in and out, in and out, faster and faster,
his heart pounding as his rod connected with
her tightness and pounded her.

She

screamed as he banged her, screamed as the
intensity overwhelmed her. He made love
to her with a sense of urgency, as if he had
to make her understand how badly he
wanted her; how she was the only woman in
this entire world that he wanted.

He loved Trina, and with every thrust

he wanted to brand her with his love. This

27/385

was his woman, this was his wife, this was
his heart, his everything, and he slid in and
out of her faster and faster as if he still had
points to prove. And he wanted her to know
that he was willing to prove it. The feeling
was so intense as he pounded her, that he
knew he couldn’t hold out much longer.
But he kept on banging, kept holding out for
more, kept giving her a ride she wouldn’t
soon forget when he finally made his mark.

He leaned his body on top of her, her

ass shaking in sensual delight from his
pounding. She felt every throb, experienced
as thrust, could feel her inner muscles tight-
ening around his rod as if she was imprison-
ing him. Which only made him pound
harder. Until the mark he kept hitting sud-
denly couldn’t take another bulls eye, and
she quivered with the joy of coming, with
the sensation of knowing that the man she
loved, the only man she dared to touch her,
was causing this euphoric wonderment.

28/385

And when Reno came, when his

penis engorged beyond capacity and all he
could do was release his fullness inside of
her, he screamed her name. “Oh, Tree!” he
screamed. “Oh, Tree!”

He was unable to stop the intensity as

his neck muscles strained, as his entire body
clenched with the kind of joy only Trina
knew how to bring to him. And he couldn’t
stop banging, he couldn’t stop trying to pen-
etrate her even deeper, as his release
wouldn’t stop pouring into her, and out of
her, and on the sides of her. He banged and
poured, banged and poured, until his energy
was as a feather and he was a man bare and
drained. Everything he had, every inch of
him, now into her.

And he sagged down, unable to move

a muscle.

Trina smiled in a kind of confident

satisfaction. She was always amazed at how

29/385

a man of Reno’s strength became as limp as
a raggedy Andy doll after his release.

When he managed enough strength to

slide off of her, and they were laying side by
side, her on her stomach, him on his back,
he could only shake his head. “You trying
to kill me, woman,” he said breathlessly,
and she looked at him as a smile slowly
filled his gorgeous face. Sometimes it
shocked her how fortunate she was. Some-
times it scared her, too.

“You didn’t exactly have mercy on

me, either,” she replied and they both
laughed. He had a plane to catch, he had
more shit to deal with, but right here and
right now he gathered Trina into his arms.
Nobody, he decided, nor circumstances bey-
ond his control, was taking this precious
moment, with his new bride, away from
him.

***

30/385

In a raucous ball park in Schenectady,

New York, Williard “Pags” Pagnini walked
up to the sideline where Marcy Davenport
stood. She was a tall, thin, blonde bomb-
shell of a woman, a former runner up Miss
New York who could still grace the cover of
any glamour magazine. But now she wore
sweats and a t-shirt, sipping from bottled
water and cheering on her son’s Little
League softball team. Pags found it amus-
ing that this former button, this killer, could
be so suburban, so motherly now.

“That’s all right, Nick!” Marcy yelled

to the smallest boy on the field as a strike
was called again, “just keep your eye on the
ball.” She began clapping. “You’re doing
good, babe! You’re doing just fine!”

“Good practice,” Pags said as he

stood beside her.

“They’re a great team. Best I’ve seen

in a while. They’ll get it together,” Marcy
said before she turned to look at the man

31/385

now positioned beside her. When she saw
who it was, her heart rammed against her
chest. “Pags?” she asked, astounded.

“The one and only.”
“But I thought---.”

“You thought what, Marcy? That I

was dead? Is that what the papers said?”
He snorted, looked back at the kids on the
baseball field. “Don’t believe everything
you read.”

“But Frank said you were dead.

Frank said he personally ordered your hit.”

“Yeah, he did say that, didn’t he?

But who you gonna believe? Dead Frank
Partanna, or this live human being, your old
friend, standing right in front of you?”

Marcy stared ahead, still stunned, but

also terrified. A visit from a man like Pags
was never a good thing.

“I don’t know if I’d agree with you,

however,” Pags said, still looking at the ball
players. She looked at him. “I don’t see

32/385

great when I see this team, although I see
some potential there. Especially with the
littlest one. With your kid.”

Marcy’s heart pounded. She knew a

threat when she heard one. “What do you
want, Pags?”

“I’m just taking in some sun, watch-

ing the kiddies play. That’s all. And I
happened to notice your kid. He stands out,
know what I’m saying? He’s what you call
a what? A leader. Yeah, a leader.” He said
this as young Nick swung and missed again,
his small body careening around and then
dropping to his rump. “Like his old man.”

Marcy could barely breathe. He

didn’t know. Nobody knew. “I’m out of
the game, Pags,” she said. “You know
that.”

“I knew you were out yesterday. Just

like me. I was deep underground yesterday.
Everybody thought I was dead and gone
yesterday. They pulled me out of the cold,

33/385

too, Marce, just like they pulled you out.
But this is a new day. Things changed
overnight. I had to get pulled back in. Then
he exhaled. “We’re pulling you back in,
Marce.”

Marcy was shaking her head before

he finished his sentence. “No.”

“Yes, Marcy.”

“No, Pags, no. Now I heard about

what happened, but that has nothing to do
with me. I’ve been out of that game for
years, and I’m not about to go back in just to
avenge somebody’s death. Least of which
that bastard Frank Partanna.”

“He killed Paulo Gabrini, Reno’s old

man. Ain’t that good news?”

“Fantastic news. And hell yeah I was

glad to see Old Man Gabrini die, I’m not
gonna lie. I was glad they clipped that Gab-
rini. But I’m not avenging Frank’s death
even if he was the one to clip him.”

34/385

“But you didn’t lose any sleep over

Gabrini’s death.”

“I told you I was thrilled they took

him out. But that’s as far as it goes with
me.”

Pags smiled. “The soccer mom

thrilled over the senseless murder of another
human being.” He shook his head. “What
is this world coming to?” Then his bulldog
face became serious. “We don’t need you to
avenge anything for us. We just need you to
put us in a position to avenge it ourselves.”

“I’m out, Pags, and I’m staying out.”
Pags looked away from her and at the

baseball diamond again. “Handsome boy
you got yourself there. Very strong fea-
tures. Looks a lot like his old man.”

Marcy hesitated. “His old man’s

dead,” she eventually said.

“He will be,” Pags said, looking at

Marcy. “But not yet.”

35/385

Marcy’s heart dropped. “Whatever

rumor you’re working from, it’s false.”

“Let’s cut the bullshit, Marce, shall

we? I’m not here in this backwater town for
my health. We know that kid is Reno’s kid.
You know it and we know it. Reno don’t
know it, however.”

“And that asshole never will!” Marcy

spat out between clenched teeth, her old self
beginning to emerge.

Pags smiled. “He won’t hear it from

us. If you cooperate, he won’t hear a word
from us. Besides, you have additional mo-
tivation to help us.” Marcy looked at him.
“The Feds, for instance.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You came to work for Frank after

the Gabrinis gave you the boot. We know
where the bodies are buried, sweetheart. All
we have to do is turn over your file to the
Feds and you’re a lifer sure as I’m standing
here. Death Row even.”

36/385

Marcy stared at him. She used to be

able to size up fear and bullshit in a man in a
matter of seconds. She didn’t see either in
Pags. “What do you want?”

“We, my dear, want Reno Gabrini’s

head on a silver platter, and you’re just the
person who can serve it up to us. Other-
wise, Reno Junior over there, or whatever
his suburban name is, will have to be served
up instead.” Pags said this and looked at
Marcy. “Capiche?” he said.

Marcy, the old Marcy back in spades,

was staring daggers at him.

37/385

TWO

Reno hurried across the airfield toward

the waiting private jet as Joe Ralson hustled
to keep up with him. Their suits, and hair,
were blowing wildly in the wind.

“There’s no room for any fuck-ups,

JoeJoe,” Reno said as he walked, refusing to
break his stride. “I want you to know her
every move. Any activity, anything that
seems trivial, out of the ordinary, strange or
whatever, you check it out. Don’t tell me
you didn’t think anything of it at the time, I
don’t wanna hear that shit. This should be
an easy assignment, I don’t anticipate any
problems, but that doesn’t mean you come
here and relax, take it easy, let your guard
down. There’s no room for error, you hear
me? This my wife we’re talking about, not
some easy lay girlfriend of the moment, and

I’ll track you down to hell if you don’t pro-
tect her in my absence.”

“Come on, Reno, you talk to me like

I’m not family, like I wouldn’t lay down
and die for you. For your new bride.
Have I ever let you down?”

“No,” Reno said matter-of-factly, “or

you wouldn’t be here. Just take care of her,
all right? And do it discreetly. I don’t want
her seeing you all over the place because she
may not like it. She may rethink her de-
cision to hook up with a bad news joker like
me.”

“She’s protected, Reno, don’t worry,”

Joe said, tired of all of his threats. “I know
how to protect, that’s why I’m here. Fort
Knox don’t have better protection. On this
you have my word.”

Reno looked at Joe. He wasn’t the

best. The best was in Vegas. But he was
the closest, a man who happened to be in
Birmingham on business when Reno was

39/385

calling around this morning for backup, and
was able to get here before Reno left town.
His Vegas backup was on their way, but
they wouldn’t be here for hours.

“Just do it, JoeJoe,” he said with all

sincerity, “or your ass is mine.” Reno then
hopped on the plane, and Joe stayed on the
ground.

Reno Gabrini was the strangest dude

Joe had ever met, a man with the moral
compass of a saint but the ruthlessness of
the most sadistic of sadistic killers. Cross-
ing him wasn’t going to be as easy as cross-
ing his old man. But man was Joe going to
love it when Reno did get his due. The as-
shole. Treating him like his bitch! Who did
he think he was?

“Yeah,” Joe said aloud as Reno

boarded the plane and was completely out of
earshot, “I’ll take care of that nigger wife of
yours all right. I’ll take care of her real
good. Don’t worry about a thing. I got that

40/385

nigger wife in my crosshairs you bastard!”
Then he grinned and waved at Reno, kept
waving and grinning at the man he hated, as
the plane lifted up, and carried Reno away.

***

“I told you not to worry about the

price, Mama,” Trina said as she followed
her mother, Earnestine Hathaway, and her
near-empty buggy around the grocery store.
“I’ve got it. Just get what you want.”

“Eighty-nine cents for a can of early

peas,” her mother grumbled, “is outrageous.
I remember when they were ten cents a can,
ten cents. Now eighty-nine cents? Who can
afford that? I’ll not pay it. I tell you I
won’t.”

Then don’t, Trina wanted to scream.

Her mother would try the patience of a saint,
when patience was always Trina’s short-
coming. But while dealing with her mother,
patience was exactly what was called for.
“This can of corn is cheaper,” she said.

41/385

“Three for a dollar, Mama, that’s cheap
enough. What about corn?”

“I want early peas, not corn. Early

peas.”

“Then get it, Mama, goodness. I told

you I got it. I’ll pay the eighty-nine cents.”

“With that mob money, no you

won’t. They ain’t putting me in no prison
for laundering money or whatever it’s
called, no ma’am. I ain’t never seen the in-
side of a jail in sixty-odd years on God’s
green earth and I’m not about to see the in-
side of one now. Daughter or no daughter.
Mob boss or no mob boss.”

“Will you stop saying that?” Trina

implored, then lowered her voice. “Reno is
not a mob boss. He’s a legitimate hotel and
casino owner, Mama. All right?”

“Yeah, and Marlon Brando was legit-

imate too. Him and that Scarface character.
I seen them movies. He’s as much a mob
boss as they were. I seen them movies.”

42/385

Trina rolled her eyes. “I’ll wait over

at the drug store, Mama,” she said, and then
added, in the interest of patience, “but take
your time.”

“I seen them movies,” her mother

yelled after her, as if to prove that her depar-
ture didn’t change the facts.

Trina walked across the street to Pex-

all Drug Store which, in Dale, was also the
local soda pop shop. She purchased a bottle
of Coke and took a window seat near the
front entrance. From where she sat she
could clearly see when her mother exited the
grocery store.

It was an unusually humid Fall day in

Dale, with temperatures expecting to top
nearly eighty-five degrees, and she was pre-
pared in her shorts and halter top. An outfit,
she also realized, that was getting her a lot
of male attention. Reno would not have ap-
proved, she knew. She even smiled at how
much he would have disapproved. Since

43/385

she’d known him, he’d already insisted she
change clothes a time or two, declaring she
was showing too much “skin,” even though
every time they were alone together her
“skin” was all he wanted to see.

And just thinking about being alone

with Reno, and the way he did her before he
left this morning, made her want him inside
her again. That man had her so dick-
whipped it wasn’t even funny. She’d never
been this taken by another human being be-
fore in her entire life, never felt so attached,
so connected like this. But Reno had her
lock, stock, and over a barrel. And she actu-
ally loved the fact that she was his, loved the
fact that he was so protective of her.

“My my, what are you doing here?” a

familiar voice spoke up and Trina, startled,
turned to the sound. To her amazement it
was Jeffrey Graham, the young man she had
run away from Dale with years ago, coming

44/385

up to the banquettes from the back of the
drug store.

Trina smiled. It had been years since

their breakup, and their last contact ended in
a fight, but she was still surprisingly glad to
see him. Before they became lovers, they
were childhood best friends. “I could ask
you that same question,” she said.

“Didn’t expect to see you here.”
“I didn’t expect to see you here.”

He smiled, motioned toward the seat

opposite her. “May I?”

“Sure, Jeff, have a seat.”

He looked the same, she noticed as

he slid into the booth seat across from her.
He still had that beautiful dark-brown face,
those gorgeous white teeth, those madden-
ing bright brown eyes, that physique that
could rival Reno’s.

“It’s been a while, girl,” he said, sit-

ting his prescription refill on the tabletop.
“How you been?”

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“I’ve been great, Jeff, how about

you?”

“Oh, I can’t complain. Or at least I

won’t.” He smiled that devastatingly gor-
geous smile of his. “When did you get back
in town?”

“Yesterday. I’m just visiting. What

about you?”

“Oh, I been back for years now.”
“No shit? You left Nevada?”
“Oh, yeah, girl, where you been?”
Trying to survive after your doped-up

ass tried to jump on me, Trina started to
say. “When did you leave Nevada?” she
said instead.

“Just after our big blow up, just after

you left. I was a mess then, you know I
was. Strung out on drugs, running around
with everything in a skirt, I wasn’t used to
that kind of lifestyle.”

Trina nodded. “I hear ya’, bud,” she

said. “I wasn’t used to it, either. Only I

46/385

didn’t leave Nevada. I just landed in a dif-
ferent place.”

“Yeah? Where?”

“Vegas. Got a job waiting tables at a

strip joint of all places.”

“A strip joint? You? But why? You

had skills. You used to be a club manager.”

“I know. I’m in training to be one

now.” Although she wasn’t sure if Reno
was going to still sanction her apprentice-
ship. Before they hooked up for real she
had a sneaking suspicion he had hired her as
a management apprentice to keep her under
his thumb. And even as his girlfriend she
believed he liked the fact that he could keep
an eye on her if she worked for him. Now,
however, she was his wife. He might not
see the benefits of his wife working for
him. But that was too bad, Trina thought.
She had every intention of continuing to
work, especially in a field she enjoyed.

47/385

Although she also knew she would have to
battle Reno first.

“So you’re in training to manage

which club?”

Trina sipped more Coke. “Don’t

know which one yet. But it’ll be at the
PaLargio,” she said.

“Whaaat,” Jeffrey said, the word

strung out as if it were a song. “Get outta
here. You serious? The Pa-Lar-gi-o?” He
sounded out every syllable. “Dang, girl. I
didn’t know places like that even hired
people like us.”

Trina knew what he meant. Jazz, her

best friend back in Vegas, felt the same
way. It was as if they had placed them-
selves into a box and had no real hope of
getting out of it. Jazz eventually stepped
out, when Trina helped to get her a job at
the PaLargio, but somebody like Jeffrey,
who actually believed his attainments were
limited, never would.

48/385

“It helps to be married to the owner,”

Trina said, mainly to show him that life
wasn’t as limiting as he thought. But also to
tell it to somebody. Normally she wouldn’t
flaunt her happiness around like that. But
Jeffrey was her home boy, was good to her
back in the day, before he got on drugs.

But Jeffrey didn’t seem to under-

stand. “What you mean?” he asked her.
When Trina showed him her diamond wed-
ding ring, he looked at the ring, and then
back into her eyes. At first it still didn’t
dawn on him. But then, as she kept smiling,
it did. “Are you trying to tell me,” he said,
“are you telling me that you, are you saying
that you, Tree Hathaway, married the owner
of the Pa-Lar-gi-o ?”

Trina smiled. “That’s right.”
“Whaaat?”
“For real though.”
“But I thought. . .”

49/385

Trina’s heart dropped. Did he know

about Reno’s mob connections too? Was it
common knowledge that even an outsider
like Jeff would know about it? “But you
thought what?” she asked him.

“I don’t mean to be funny,” he said,

“but I thought the owner of the Pa-Lar-gi-o,
like all of those other casino owners, was
white.”

Trina smiled. Oh, that. “He is.”

Jeffrey nodded. His smile was still

there, but not as warm. “And that’s okay
with your folks? You marrying a white boy,
I mean?”

“They’re still getting used to it.

Especially Ma. But she’ll come around.”

Jeffrey nodded again, his smile be-

coming warmer again, as if he was slowly
coming around too. “This is some news,
Tree,” he said. “I expected you to land on
your feet, but damn, girl.” Trina laughed.
“The owner of the Pa-Lar-gi-o? Wow. I

50/385

don’t know what to say, I’m serious. But
congratulations. That’s what I’ll say. Con-
grats. And by the way, does he have a
sister?”

Trina laughed again. “Two of them,

but they’re both married.”

“Damn. But lightening never strikes

twice anyway, right?”

Trina didn’t know if she liked her

marriage to Reno being compared to light-
ening striking, but in a way she understood
what he meant. “I guess not,” she said.

“Main question,” Jeffrey said, hold-

ing up a finger, “is he good to you?”

This was an odd question coming

from him, Trina thought, especially consid-
ering the major fight they had the night she
left him, and all of the women he ran around
with while they were together. But she’d
moved on from Jeffrey a long time ago.
“Yes,” she said. “Real good. He took me to
Paris, J.”

51/385

“Paris? Paris, Texas?”

Trina laughed. Jeffrey was always

good for a laugh. “No, silly. France.”

“Wow. For real, though? So you’ve

seen Paris since last we met.” Trina smiled.
It was a line they used to use as kids.
Whenever one of them went away for sum-
mer vacation or something, they’d come
back and claim that they saw Paris the last
time they met. It was from a poem they
once had to read for a school project, and
became their running gag.

“Yes,” she said as a sadness washed

over her. She missed that old Jeff, the best
friend, the school mate, before they made
the biggest mistake of their lives and be-
came lovers. “I’ve seen Paris since last we
met.”

“That’s great, Tree,” he continued.

“If anybody would, I knew it would be
you.” Then he smiled. “You certainly look

52/385

good,” he said, his gorgeous eyes scanning
the length of her. “Real good.”

Trina smiled, but felt uncomfortable

with his scan. “So what about you?” she
said. “What you been up to?”

“Was working over at Maxi’s garage

for a minute.”

“Really?”

“Was, yeah. Got laid off a few

weeks ago. The economy, you know.”

“I know. It’s bad all around.”

Jeffrey stared at her, as if something

had suddenly dawned on him. “Tree?” he
asked.

“Yeah, what’s up?”

“You don’t think your husband, I

mean the owner of the PaLargio, could con-
sider hiring me, could he? I mean, I worked
casinos all up and down Reno, you know I
did. Was good at it too.”

53/385

“Until that drug culture, which you

know is a major part of every show town
like Reno, like Vegas, took control.”

“But I been clean for over two years

now, Tree. I can’t stand that shit now. I just
wanna make it now.”

Trina stared at him. Who was she to

judge anyway? “Yeah, sure, Jeff. I’m sure
there’s some place we can find for you.”
That was a bold statement, she knew it. But
she also knew Reno would do that favor for
her.

Jeffrey grinned. “Oh, Tree,” he said,

unable to hide his elation, “you don’t know
what this means to me. I been wanting to
leave this town since I got back here, but the
job kept me here.”

“Where’re your folks?”

“They’re here too, but they’ll be

happy when I’m able to give them some real
cash again.”

54/385

Trina laughed. “I hear that,” she

said.

“I see your folks around town some-

times, but I don’t think they remember me.
So I just don’t even bother to speak.”

“They know your name, that’s all,”

Trina said. “I don’t think they ever knew
your face. They just knew that I hooked up
with the club bouncer and took off with
him. But anyway,” she added, pulling a pad
and pen from her purse, “I’ll give you my
cell number. Come to Vegas in a couple
weeks, to the PaLargio. I should be back in
town by then. Ask for me. I’ll hook you
up.”

Jeffrey smiled, wanted to kiss her.

“You have made me a very happy man,” he
said, knowing that Katrina Hathaway always
kept her word. “Oh,” he said, thinking of
something. “What do I call you? What’s
your last name now?”

55/385

“Gabrini,” she said proudly. “Katrina

Gabrini.”

“Well, thank-you, Mrs. Gabrini,” Jef-

frey said with a smile. “Thank-you.”

And Trina had to smile, too, because

Reno was screaming those very words this
morning, as he pounded her.

56/385

THREE

The Gabrini family’s east coast com-

pound was located in Somers Point, New
Jersey, some eighteen miles southwest of
Atlantic City, and was barely visible from
the street. The massive security gates,
manned by men with guns and dogs, opened
electronically and the limo carrying Reno
and his brother-in-law Carmine Rossi, a
man he used to call his cousin when they
were kids, made its way to the back of the
property, where the actual home stood.
Ritchie, Reno’s other brother-in-law, a mus-
cular young man everybody called Dirty,
met the limo at the front door. When Reno
stepped out, the two men hugged.

“How’s Ma?” Reno asked him.

Dirty shook his head. “She’s Ma.

One minute she’s fine, talking good sense,

getting along with the people. The next
minute she’s all mad and frustrated, talking
about how Pop’s gonna kick our asses when
he gets back. We say, ‘Ma, Pop’s dead, you
know that.’ She looks up at us, with those
big blues, you know, but she don’t see noth-
ing. Just look. She’s in and out. She’s
Ma.”

Reno exhaled, looked around. “I see

security’s beefed up,” he said, buttoning his
suit coat and glancing around at the numer-
ous armed guards around the compound.
“That’s good. You done good, Dirty. You
done good, Carmine!” he yelled across his
shoulder as Carmine came around from the
other side of the limo and stood beside him.
Both men looked up to Reno, and both were
thrilled he was there, to give them some dir-
ection. They weren’t accustomed to being
in charge, and neither felt completely com-
fortable with the role.

58/385

Reno walked through the double

doors and down the long, marbled hall that
led into the massive gathering room. He
saw his mother on the sofa, plump and plain,
seated as if she was still in mourning, and
his two sisters, MarBeth and Francine,
seated on either side of her. They, too,
looked up to Reno, and when he stepped
down into the room, both MarBeth and
Francine ran to him. He hugged them both.

“Frank Partanna’s dead, Reno!”

MarBeth

proclaimed

and

Carmine,

MarBeth’s husband, rolled his eyes.

“What you telling him that for?”

Carmine asked in his heavy New Jersey ac-
cent. “You think you know and Reno
doesn’t? Seriously? Gees, MarBeth!”

“I was just talking to my brother,”

MarBeth shot back. “Can I talk to my
brother for two seconds without my husband
blowing a gasket? Gees, Carmine!”

59/385

Reno moved away from both of

them, as the ridiculous argument continued,
and leaned down on his haunches in front of
his mother. “Hey, Ma, how you doing?” he
asked her.

His mother, Belle Gabrini, ran her

wrinkled hand through his thick hair. “You
have good hair,” she said to him, her voice
husky, strained. “Not like Joey. Joey never
had nice hair. Always blown out too far.
Joey got big hair. You got nice hair.”

“We keep telling her Joey’s dead like

Pa, but she ignores us,” Francine said. Reno
ignored her.

“Taking your medicine, Ma?” he

asked his mother.

“What medicine?”

“For the high blood pressure. The

doctor prescribed it for you, after Pop
died.”

60/385

His mother dismissed him with a

wave of her hand. “Doctors. What do they
know?”

“She

taking

her

medication,

MarBeth?” Reno glanced back and asked his
sister.

“She’s taking it when she’ll take it.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Just what I said, Reno. She takes it

through the week, the weekends not so
much. That’s just Ma.”

“But that blood pressure’s nothing to

fuck around with, MarBeth,” Reno warned.
“She has to take it every day. And I want
you and Franny to make sure she takes it
every day.” He stood up. Nobody in the
family disputed Reno, but MarBeth tended
to give him the hardest time.

“We’re doing our best, okay?” she

said. “Pop ain’t here no-more to handle
Ma. She ain’t used to taking orders from us,
okay?”

61/385

“We’re like prisoners here, Reno,”

Francine said like the wining younger sib-
ling she sometimes could be. “Carmine and
Dirty, they won’t let us go anywhere.”

“And you ain’t going nowhere,”

Reno shot back. “Not yet anyway. Did Ma
at least take her medicine today?” Reno
asked. He really hated coming around his
family. He felt as if he had to micromanage
everything whenever he was around them,
and he was no micromanager. But they
were so needy, so quick to drop the ball and
expect him to pick it back up for them, that
they often proved exhausting. And now
with his father out of the frame, he knew it
was only going to get worst.

“She took it today,” MarBeth said. “I

make no promises for tomorrow, but today
she took it.”

The butler came into the room, spoke

to Reno, and whispered something in

62/385

Dirty’s ear. Dirty smiled and followed the
butler out of the room.

“What’s that about?” Reno asked

Carmine.

Carmine shook his head. “I don’t

know,” Carmine said. “Do you know,
Francine?”

“Do I know what?”
“What Dirty’s up to?”

“How should I know what Dirty’s up

to? Dirty don’t tell me a thing about his
business. He says it’s his business.”

Reno sat next to his mother, leaning

back in a slouched position, taking her
hand. He was more tired than he thought he
was. Of all his family members, she wor-
ried him the most. “Why don’t you go and
lay down, Ma, get you a little nap? You’ll
feel better.”

“I feel fine. But you, you don’t look

so good, Dominic. What’s that woman do-
ing to you?”

63/385

This response threw Reno. He hadn’t

told his mother, and forbad Carmine and
Dirty to tell her, that he married Trina. He
didn’t want to overload her with too many
changes too fast. “What woman?” he asked
her, to be clear. You never could assume
where his mother’s progressing dementia
was concerned.

“That black woman you bought here

that time. Whatshername? Your father
called her Hot Chocolate, but I know that
can’t be her name.”

“Her name’s Katrina,” Reno said, his

heart aching for her just by saying that
name.

“Yeah, that one. Hazel Eyes. She

not treating you right, Dominic?”

“She’s treating me just fine, Ma.”

“I don’t think she’s treating you

right. You need an Italian girl. They know
how to treat a man.”

64/385

“Yeah, Ma, sure,” Reno said, patting

her hand. And just as he patted that hand,
Dirty entered the room with an Italian girl.
Only this one wasn’t some figment of his
mother’s imagination, but was a woman
Reno always bedded whenever he was in
Jersey. A few times he even flew her out to
Vegas, to the PaLargio, to fuck her.

Dirty was grinning ear to ear. “Look

who I dredged up, Reno,” he said, unable to
contain his glee. “Sophie Torenelli.”

“Hi, Reno,” Sophie said, coming to-

ward him. She was a tall, bosomy Italian,
with long, slick black hair, a small, pretty
face, and a very curvaceous body. A body
Reno couldn’t help but scan as he stood to
greet her.

“Sophie, how you doing?” he asked

her as she came into his arms. It was not
unusual for this to happen. But this time
Reno pulled back from her.

65/385

Sophie was surprised by the pull

back, but she continued to smile. “You look
good, Reno.”

“Good?” his mother said, suddenly

irritated. “He looks awful. What good?
Listen to her if you want.”

Dirty smiled. “Don’t mind, Ma,” he

said. “She’s just tired. Aren’t you tired,
Ma?”

“I’m not tired, what’s with the tired?

Dominic’s tired.”

“I’ve missed you, Reno,” Sophie

said, running her hands through his hair.

Reno, however, suddenly seemed

awkward. He looked at Dirty, an odd ex-
pression on his face.

“When Dirty told me you were com-

ing,” Sophia continued, “I couldn’t wait to
see you again. It’s been a while, Reno.”

“Yeah, well,” Reno said, removing

her hands from his hair. “Can I see you for
a moment, Dirt?” he asked his brother-in-

66/385

law. Then he asked her to excuse him, and
headed for the study.

When they were in the study, the

double doors closed, Reno frowned. “What
the hell just happened?”

Dirty was puzzled. “What you mean

what happened? I got Sophie for you like I
always do when we’re in Jersey. You like
Sophie, you told me so yourself.”

“I like Sophie, I like Tophie, I like

Lophie, I liked them all before I met Trina,
you idiot! Now I don’t give a fuck about
any of them, Dirty, you had to know that.
Remember Trina? Katrina? My wife? The
one I just married?”

Dirty was still confused. “But I

thought--”

“But you thought what?”

“But I thought she was just a ruse,

your marrying her I mean. An alibi for you
when the feds come to question you about

67/385

Partanna’s death. I thought she was just
your cover, Reno.”

Reno frowned. “My cover? You

thought Trina was my cover?”

“Yes! How was I to know you meant

it?”

Reno shook his head. “Get rid of

her,” he said, heading for the desk in the
study, “and get Carmine in here.”

Now Dirty was dumbstruck. “You

mean you aren’t gonna . . . You know.”

Reno looked at him. “What?”

“You aren’t gonna poke her, Reno,

you know what I’m trying to say over here.”

Reno rolled his eyes. “No, Dirt, I’m

not gonna do anything with any female but
my wife. Understand that? Got it?”

“I got it.”
“Dig it?”
“It’s dug.”
“Get rid of her.”
Dirty exhaled. Stared at Reno.

68/385

“What is it now?”

“Since you aren’t . . . I mean, since

you don’t want her anymore . . . you think I
can have a crack at her?”

Reno couldn’t believe it. “What are

you, an imbecile? You’re married to my kid
sister you idiot! You think I’m giving you
permission to cheat on my kid sister? You
think I won’t cut off your balls and hang
them around your neck if you even think
about cheating on my kid sister?”

Dirty quickly smiled. “I was just jok-

ing, Reno,” he said, backing up, “honest I
was. You know I wouldn’t dream of cheat-
ing on Francine. I was just seeing what you
was gonna say, that’s all.”

“Get the fuck out of my face,” Reno

said with a frown.

Dirty hurried out, he practically ran

out. And got rid of Sophie.

***

69/385

“Looks like Mama’s ready,” Trina

said when she looked across the street and
saw her mother coming out of the grocery
store. She stood to her feet. “I’d better get
going.”

Jeffrey stood up too, saddened to see

their reunion end so quickly. Not that he
stood a chance with her anymore. He knew
he didn’t. She was now married to the own-
er of the PaLargio. How in the world could
he, or any other regular guy for that matter,
compete against that? But damn did she
look good, even better than she used to
look. And fine as wine, he also noticed as
he began walking with her across the street.

“I really appreciate what you’re do-

ing for me, Tree,” he said, “I really do.”

Trina glanced at him, her eyes squint-

ing in the sun. “Sure you’re going to be
able to handle it this time?”

He smiled, but she could still see

some uncertainty in his smile, maybe even

70/385

fear. “I told you I’ve been clean and sober
for damn near two years now. Ain’t no way
I’m going back to that.”

“But you’re going to be back in the

bright lights and the big city,” she said.
“And if you thought Reno, Nevada was bad
with the partying scene, Vegas is even
worst, J. At least here in Dale you’re living
a good, clean life.”

“Yeah, a good, clean, broke-ass life,”

he said to laughter. “I’m just looking for an-
other chance, you know? I messed up in
Reno. I know I did. I lost a good woman,”
he said this as he looked down the length of
Trina, “and even worst, I lost a good
friend.”

“You haven’t lost a friend, J,” Trina

admitted. “I’ll never be your woman again,
but I’ll always be your friend. We go back a
long way, and many times you were there
for me when I needed you most. Hell yeah
I’m gonna be there for you.”

71/385

Jeffrey frowned. “About that night,

Tree, when we had our blow up, I’m sorry.
I was as wrong as I could be.”

Trina almost smiled. He hit her with

his fist, true enough, but she hit him back,
not only with her fist but with a hammer, a
lamp, her shoe, a book, anything she could
get her hands on, hitting him so hard that he
nearly passed out. By the time she was fin-
ished with Jeffrey he was sliding backwards
on his butt and begging for mercy. That was
a bad night, one of the worst of her life, but
even he would have to admit she got the bet-
ter of that exchange.

“Apology accepted,” she said. Then

she smiled. “Just don’t even try it again.”

He laughed. “Don’t worry. Besides,

I’m willing to bet your rich husband would
not approve if any man raises his hand to
you.”

Trina thought about another ex-boy-

friend and how Reno ran him out of town at

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gunpoint. “Oh, I think you’ll win that bet,”
she said with all sincerity.

“Where have you been?” her mother

asked as she and Jeffrey made their way up
to her buggy. “I’ve been waiting out here
for ages.”

Trina and Jeff exchanged smiles.
“Who’s he?” Earnestine asked.

“Jeffrey Graham,” Trina said. “You

remember.”

“Jeffrey Graham? That’s Jeffrey

Graham? He was a little skinny thing, a
stick of a man, not this big, fine, muscular
man here.”

Trina was amazed by her mother’s

appraisal of Jeff’s physique. “Yes, mother,
this if Jeff Graham. You knew him when
we were in school together. He buffed up
years ago.” Jeffrey laughed.

“How you doing, Mrs. Hathaway?”

he said.

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“I’m doing better than most. Espe-

cially on days when this arthritis leaves me
alone.”

Before her mother could go on and

on about her numerous ailments, Trina said
her goodbyes to Jeffrey, piled the few bags
of groceries into the backseat of her father’s
SUV, put her mother inside, and was off.

By the time they made it home, her

mother, who had been calling Jeffrey Gra-
ham a no-account loser for as long as Trina
could remember, was now singing his
praises.

“That’s what you need,” her mother

said as they began unloading the bags of
groceries. “A good looking man like that.
Well-spoken and mannerable. Somebody
who’s one of us, not some mafia mob boss
whatever that Dino person is.”

“Reno,” Trina corrected her, walking

in front to unlock the door. “Dominic, to be
precise.”

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“Dominic, that’s worst,” her mother,

never to be outdone, said as she followed
her daughter with one of the bags in her
hand.

They entered the house talking, or at

least Trina’s mother entered talking. Trina
pretty much tuned her out.

Outside of the house, however, was a

car on the opposite side of the street. Trina
had already spotted it and assumed it to be
one of Reno’s men. Although Reno didn’t
tell her a thing, she knew from experience
that there was no way he was going to leave
her tucked away in tiny Dale, Mississippi
without some just-in-case protection. See-
ing that car, the same car she had spotted
when they were at the grocery store, was no
deal at all to her.

Only it should have been. Joe Ral-

ston would have told her that it definitely
should have been. He’d been following
Reno ever since Partanna iced his father.

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Had been following Reno on the orders of
Partanna himself. Just in case Reno tried a
retaliatory strike. He became Partanna’s in-
side man, a man who’d done work for
Reno’s father in the past, a man known for
his discretion. A man whose services, Reno
nor his father ever realized, that was up for
the highest bidder. Frank Partanna was the
highest bidder.

Keep an eye on him, Partanna had

personally told Joe Ralston. Find out what
he’s up to. And he was doing just that, until
Reno made this detour to Mississippi all of a
sudden. And then was marrying this black
chick. He had one of his men outside while
the marriage was taking place. Had no idea,
until he received the call from LA, that at
that selfsame hour Frank Partanna and all of
his top lieutenants were being gunned down
like dogs in the street. And gunned down,
they all were convinced, on Reno’s orders.
The East Coast bosses provided the fire

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power, but Reno Gabrini, everybody knew,
was calling those shots.

Joe thought it was over after Partanna

was killed. But it wasn’t over by a mile. He
received a phone call, told him to stay on
Reno, but not to touch him, not yet. So Joe
immediately contacted Reno’s people, told
them he had heard about the Partanna hit,
and offered his help. Mentioned that he was
in Birmingham on business, but would be
back in Vegas in a few days. And Reno’s
people fell for it. Called him back within
the hour and ordered him to Dale, Missis-
sippi to provide cover for Reno’s new
bride. Joe smiled just thinking about it. He
was providing cover all right, he thought, as
he cranked up his car, pressed the button,
and drove off.

As soon as he pressed that button,

however, the house across the street, the
Hathaway home, blew up like a fireball, the
swoosh so sudden that it seemed almost

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caricatured. The neighbors rushed out onto
their lawns, one lady soaking wet and
wrapped only in a towel, as the fire began to
consume the Hathaway home. And it was a
crazy scene in Dale. A house blown up like
that.

“Is anybody inside?” one of the

neighbors yelled to other neighbors in a hys-
terical voice. “Is anybody in there?”

“Lord have mercy if they are!” anoth-

er yelled back.

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FOUR

His father’s closest friends were as-

sembled in a private office at the Jersey
compound, and all four were long time east
coast bosses. Reno, with Carmine standing
beside him, leaned back in the chair behind
his deceased father’s big old Victorian desk
and listened to the four men. Vito Gian-
carlo, the most powerful of the four, sat in
front of the desk with his hands on the arms
of the chair. He was a husky Italian the col-
or of hay, doubled-chinned, pushing sixty
and looking every bit his age. He and
Reno’s father were the closest of friends, his
father seemed to idolize the man, and an un-
dercurrent of grief still cloaked Vito, it
seemed to Reno.

Luigi Drago, known in the family as

the Drag, sat beside him. Although not

nearly as powerful as Vito Giancarlo, Reno
trusted Drago more. Used to always tell his
father that Vito Giancarlo’s fine when you
need a big mouth to speak up for you, a gos-
sip to get the pot stirred up, but when you
need a reliable hand to help you, Drago was
the man to call. He was built more like
Carmine, muscular and compact, than Vito,
and was younger too.

The other two bosses, Tommy Fab-

ruccio and Enrico Lenzeni, were seated on
either end of the two men. Neither were
heavy-hitters,

skylocking

and

illegal

gambling bolt-holes their main drugs of
choice. But they stepped up when Reno’s
father was iced, and Reno therefore kept
them in the loop.

“That’s the problem,” Vito was say-

ing. “We just don’t know. But there’s some
chatter, some talk, you know, that I’m a
little concerned about.”

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“What kind of talk?” Reno asked

him.

“Talk,” Vito said. “Chatter.”

“Yeah, but what kind of talk? What

kind of chatter?”

“About Frank having more sense that

we thought he had,” Tommy Fabruccio
spoke up. “About Frank not being no whack
job like we thought he was.”

Reno studied Vito. “What’s the

word, V?”

Vito inhaled. “This is all rumor,

mind. All speculation that nobody’s proven
to my satisfaction. But there’s some talk,
some chatter, that Partanna wasn’t the lone
wolf we took him for. That he had backup
we knew nothing about.”

Reno’s heart began to pound. He

leaned back further in his father’s swivel
chair, his eyes never leaving Vito’s.
Whatever there was to be known at this
point, of all the men in the room, Vito

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would know. “This backup is one person,”
Reno asked, “or a network of people?”

Vito inhaled again. “A network’s

what I’m hearing.”

“Fuck!” Reno yelled, and slung the

chair forward, his body now leaned over the
desk. “How could that happen, Vito? I
made clear we either hit’em all or nobody.
Hit’em all or don’t hit nobody, that’s what I
said. Now you’re telling me there’s more
psychos out there, some under the under-
world network of shitheads out there? That
it wasn’t just Partanna and his lieutenants
we needed to hit?”

“Who do you think you’re yelling at,

Reno?” Vito asked with a scream in his
voice. “This is Vito Giancarlo here! Your
father’s best friend! I loved your father!”
He said this pointing at his chest, said this
with pride and affection for himself.

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Reno settled back down. “I’m sorry,

Vito. I didn’t mean any disrespect. But I
made it clear.”

“And we ordered our people to do ex-

actly what you told them to do. We didn’t
know about this network. I thought Pags
had been called in.”

“Pags?” Carmine asked, astounded.

“Geez, Vito. Are you telling us that that
psycho Pagnini ain’t dead?”

Vito leaned back. Looked at Reno.

“That’s the word I’m hearing, Ree.”

Reno frowned. “But I thought he

was called in?” Reno said. “I remember
Pops telling me how stupid Partanna was to
call in Pags, how messed up in the head he
was to put a hit on his own best lieutenant.”

“I was saying the same thing,” Vito

said. “I thought they iced him in Portland.
Everybody did. Partanna was bragging
about it for the longest, bragging about how
he called Pags in and killed one of the

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baddest bad-ass wise guys ever created, how
he sent his most powerful made man pack-
ing forever.”

“But it was a lie?”

“It was all lies, Reno, at least that’s

what I’m hearing. I’m hearing Partanna sent
Pags underground to work with some under-
cover network he had going that oversaw his
power grab. I’m hearing that now, with
Partanna gone, the network’s taking over.
And although Pags is second in command,
he ain’t in command.”

“Fuck!” Reno yelled again from the

top of his voice, slamming his hand down
on the arm of the chair. “This is exactly
why I hate this shit! As soon as you think
you can get in and out, you can hit and
move on, you find out somebody didn’t do
their homework and now you’re in some
gotdamn war! There’s always some trapped
door, always some fucker in some alley

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ready, willing, and able to keep the battle
raging!”

He exhaled, tried to control his tem-

per, but failed. “You assured me, Vito Gi-
ancarlo,” he said in an accusatory tone.
“You assured me that Partanna was surface,
that he had nothing and nobody beyond his
own muscle. Now you’re telling me that he
not only has a network, but that Pags is in it,
that crazy fuck Pagnini for crying out loud,
and not just that, but that there’s some Capo
dei capi in charge, some boss of bosses, we
don’t even know about?”

Vito leaned back too. He looked as if

he’d aged two years in two minutes.
“That’s what I’m telling you,” he said. “But
nothing’s been confirmed yet, Reno, I’m
also telling you that.”

“If not Pags,” Carmine asked, “who’s

running the show?”

“That’s the thing,” Drago jumped in.

“Nobody knows. None of Vito’s people

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know, none of my people know. Nobody
knows.”

Reno shook his head. He should

have known not to rely so heavily on Vito
Giancarlo’s word. He used to tell his Pop
not to do so, then he turned around and did
so. Vito was a good man, but he wasn’t the
sharpest knife in any drawer and often got it
wrong more than he got it right. But he was
so certain about Partanna, he was so certain
that Partanna was so fucked up that what
you saw was what you got, when Partanna
was probably playing them all and wanted
them to think that very thing. Reno shook
his head.

When his cell phone began ringing

he, at first, didn’t even want to answer it.
But eventually he pulled it out and glanced
at the Caller ID. When he saw that it was
Joe Ralston, the man who was keeping an
eye on Tree, he clicked it on quickly.

“What’s up, JoeJoe?”

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All he could hear, at first, was the

sound of sirens and Joe’s heavy breathing.
“We didn’t see it coming, Reno,” he said,
barely able to catch his breath.

Reno’s heart immediately began

pounding. “Didn’t see what coming?”

“We didn’t see it coming!”
“Didn’t see what coming?”
“Katrina,” Joe said.

As soon as he said that name Reno

flew to his feet like a linebacker ready to at-
tack a defensive line, flew to his feet so fast
that his chair flipped backwards and crashed
to the floor.

“What about Katrina?” he asked.

Carmine stood still.

“It happened so fast,” Joe said.

“What about Katrina, motherfucker,

what about Katrina?!” Reno felt as if his
heart was going to come out of his chest.
All he could hear were sirens in the back-
ground, all he could think about was Tree

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“There was an explosion,” Joe said,

“at her parents’ home.”

“Was she inside the house when it

exploded?”

Drago, Fabruccio and Lenzeni imme-

diately jumped to their feet. Vito leaned
forward. Carmine stared at Reno.

“Yes, Reno,” Joe said. “She was

inside.”

Reno could barely believe it. He

began walking from behind his desk.
“Where is she now? If you tell me my wife
is dead I’ll kill you through this phone!
Where is she now?”

“They took her to the hospital, that’s

all I know. Her and her mother, they
took’em to the hospital.”

Reno placed the phone against his

chest. “Get the plane ready and contact my
people in Vegas,” he ordered Carmine and
Carmine immediately pulled out his cell
phone as he ran out of the room.

88/385

“What is it, Reno?” Vito asked,

standing now.

“That fuck Pags or some other dead

motherfucker just tried to put a hit on my
wife,” Reno said, looking terrified it seemed
to Vito, as he hurried out of the room too.

The Drag looked at Vito. “What

wife?” he asked him, and they both were
dumbstruck.

***

The doors to the hospital in Jackson,

Mississippi flew open and Reno, Carmine
and what looked like an army of bodyguards
rushed in. Two doctors met Reno at the en-
trance, two doctors his Vegas people had
contacted and ordered to get to the hospital.

“Where is she?”

“She’s going to be all right, Mr. Gab-

rini,” one of the doctors, Dr. Kaye, said.

“Where is she?” Reno asked again,

not breaking his stride. “Where is she?” He
wasn’t taking some doctor’s word for it. He

89/385

had to see his wife, he had to eyeball his
woman.

Dr. Kaye got the message. “This

way, sir,” he said sheepishly and hurried
down the hospital’s corridor, the hospital
staff standing around in their scrubs amazed
by this grand intrusion of their otherwise
small, and usually quiet, establishment.

But Reno was as unconcerned about

how it looked as he was about his own exist-
ence at that moment in time. All he wanted
was to see, to hold, to feel Trina again.

She was in a private room. Reno,

Carmine and the doctors entered, while se-
curity stood guard at the room’s door.

She was lying in a hospital bed, look-

ing almost serene, Reno thought, as he
slowly approached her. Dr. Kaye was at his
side.

“Is she in a coma?” Reno asked,

nervous as hell. But for a small bruise on

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her arm, he could see no damage
whatsoever.

“She’s under an anesthetic,” Dr.

Kaye replied. “She was hysterical when she
arrived here. She kept calling for her moth-
er, and for you.” Reno and the doctor ex-
changed a quick glance. “But otherwise
she’s going to be just fine. The explosion,
from what I understand, took place in the
front of the home, near the entrance. She
had made her way to the kitchen area and
had just opened the back door to put the cat
out, from what she told the staff here, when
the explosion occurred.”

“Praise God,” Reno said.

“Yes, she was truly blessed. She

caught the blowback, but it was nothing
compared to what . . .” He didn’t know if
Reno was ready to hear more.

Reno looked at the doctor. “Com-

pared to who? Her parents? What about her
parents?”

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“Just one parent was apparently at

home. Her mother.”

“What about her mother?”

“She’s in bad shape, there’s no other

way to put it. It’ll be a miracle if she lasts
the night.”

Reno’s heart, which he didn’t think

could drop any further, did. He looked at
Trina, who could have been dead, thought
about her mother fighting for her life, and
all because of their association with him.
All because of his selfish need to have a
good woman in his life. And the guilt that
was already agonizing enough, almost un-
bearable even before this craziness, felt like
an ice pick through the heart that kept
stabbing him over and over again. And
Pags was back, that maniac Pagnini, ready
to avenge Partanna’s death.

“Good Lord,” Reno thought with the

anguish that only a drowning man could

92/385

feel. Carmine and the doctor looked at him.
“What have I done?”

93/385

FIVE

Earnestine Hathaway did make it

through the night. It was touch and go, but
she made it. Her husband would spend that
night in her room, praying all night for her,
and Reno and Carmine spent the night in
Trina’s room, praying for them both.

Trina woke up a couple times

through the night, and once she recognized
Reno and he assured her, prematurely, that
her mother would be fine, she would go
back to sleep. Reno sat in a comfortable
chair Dr. Kaye was able to wrangle for him,
and watched her sleep. Her always smooth
black skin had taken on an ash color, and
her normally gorgeous eyes, whenever she
did open them, looked glazed-over and un-
focused. But miraculously all of the tests
they ran on her were negative and the only

damage was the actual small bruise on her
arm. Reno couldn’t praise God enough. Al-
though that guilt still clung to him like
slime.

Carmine looked at his brother-in-

law. He was the strongest man he’d ever
known, and every time he was around him
he understood more and more why Reno’s
old man so much wanted Reno to be in the
business with him. He knew how to handle
situations.

Like Dirty for instance. Carmine

hated doing it, but had no choice but to
leave Dirty in charge of the family back in
Jersey so that he could be Reno’s personal
bodyguard to Mississippi. They had others
around him, but they weren’t trusting any-
body at this point.

But Carmine found out late last night,

when he called Dirty to check on the situ-
ation there, that Reno had the entire family
on a plane to Nevada, to the better fortified

95/385

family compound in Spring Valley a few
miles from the Strip, and he had his own
Vegas people, not Vito Giancarlo or any of
those east coast bosses, handling security.
And Carmine thought Reno was so dis-
traught that he could barely think straight,
let alone handle anything. But that was
Reno, he thought, staring at him. The only
man he trusted without question. The only
human being on the face of this earth he
would die for.

“What is it?” Reno asked him. Al-

though he was slumped down in that chair
staring at Trina, he could see Carmine,
through the corners of his eyes, staring at
him. “What’s on your mind?”

“What’s the game plan, Reno? It all

seems like it’s kind of out of control right
now.”

Reno closed his eyes then opened

them back up again. Sometimes he wished
he could just walk away from everything, to

96/385

not have to deal with anything in his life for
the rest of his life. “We need some backup,”
he ultimately said.

“You mean Vito Giancarlo and the

Drag and Fabruccio and those guys?”

“I mean Tommy and Sal Luca.”
Carmine stared at Reno as if he’d lost

his mind. “You’re kidding me, right?
Tommy and Sal Luca? As in Tommy and
Sal Luca Gabrini? Your crazy-ass cousins?”

“What do you mean crazy? What’s

crazy about them? They’re former cops for
crying out loud!”

“Yeah, that’s why they’re crazy.

Cops. Please. Your old man pissed on the
ground their old man walked on.”

“I know what Pop did, and I know

how he felt about his brother being a cop
and his brother’s sons being cops. But I’m
not Pop.” Reno sometimes wondered if he
despised his father for getting the family
caught up in so much crime and violence.

97/385

He used to wish his father was more like his
Uncle Benny, more like Tommy and Sal
Luca’s old man. “I was glad they stayed out
of the business quite frankly,” he went on.
“I envy them for not getting dragged into
this cockamamie business.”

“Yet you’re looking to drag them in

now.”

“Hell yeah I’m dragging them in.

Until I can get a handle on what’s going on
here. I thought our hit on Partanna would be
the end of it. I thought we had got’em all,
Partanna and his entire crew, when we prob-
ably hadn’t even gotten most of them.”
Reno looked at Trina. “They tried to kill my
wife, and I don’t know who they are. That’s
some scary shit, Carmine. That changes the
game.”

Carmine didn’t think he’d ever seen

Reno so uncertain, so flustered. “You know
Joe Ralston’s disappeared,” he said.

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“I know. That’s my point. Who can

we trust?”

“Word on the street,” Carmine said

carefully, “is that JoeJoe was working for
Pags all along, and they had their eyes on
you even before the Partanna hit.”

Reno looked at Carmine. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.”

“Then why the--” Reno had to calm

himself back down. He glanced at Trina, to
make sure she was still asleep, and then
back at Carmine. “Why wasn’t word on the
street giving us this information before
now? If word on the street is so damned
reliable.”

“I’m just telling you what I heard,

Reno. I worked my sources and that’s what
they told me. They said no contract was
out, nothing like that, but Partanna figured
you would try a retaliatory strike. But there
was no chatter, no evidence of it. Besides,
they figured you was too legit, too moral, to

99/385

ever go down a serious retaliation road.
They didn’t think they had a beef with you.
You know they call you Saint Dominic be-
hind your back.”

Some saint, Reno thought, and

looked at Trina.

Carmine looked at him. “You think

Tommy and Sal Luca will even come?” he
asked.

“They’ll come,” Reno assured him.

“I asked them to come and they said they’ll
come.”

“You asked them? What, already?”

Carmine couldn’t believe it. “When Reno?
I been with you twenty-four seven since we
got here.”

“Before we got here,” Reno said.

“On the plane. I knew JoeJoe was full of
shit when he called me. He knew it too,
that’s why he took off.”

“He’s a dead man, you know that?”

100/385

Trina opened her eyes. Reno jumped

up and hurried to her side. He sat on the
edge of her bed. “Hello, sweetheart.”

Trina touched the side of his face.

“You look awful.”

“Me?” Reno said with a smile.

“Check out yourself, sister. You don’t look
like no beauty queen laying up there either,
you know. I look awful? Please.”

Trina smiled, although she was sore

and it was painful to do. But if Reno was
joking, she thought, it couldn’t possibly be
as bad as she thought it was. “How’s Ma?”
she asked him.

“She’s good, Tree,” he said. “I saw

her this morning. She’s a little beat up, I
ain’t gonna lie to you, but she’s in no
danger. Your father’s with her. He kept
checking on you through the night too, kept
coming in here. I told him I got you, don’t
worry about you.”

101/385

Trina nodded. Then a serious look

came over her. “Who did this, Reno?” she
asked him.

“I’m not sure yet,” Reno said, “but

I’m working on it.”

“But I thought you said they got

everybody

when

they

took

care

of

Partanna.”

“Yeah, that was the thought.”
“But you were wrong?”

“Yes, I was wrong like I am ninety

percent of the time. But stop worrying
about that, you hear me? Just get well so I
can get your gorgeous self out of this hick
town and back safely at the PaLargio where
you belong.”

“It’s a mob war, Reno,” she said, still

worrying.

“A mob war,” Reno said with a

smile. Looked at Carmine. “Check her out.
A mob war.” Then he turned back to his
wife. “Stop worrying, I mean it.”

102/385

“You’re worrying,” Trina said.

“I’m worrying? Says who? You?

Do I look worried? Well, do I, Tree?”

“You don’t look worried, no.”

“Then what you worrying for? I

want to get you out of this bed and back at
the PaLargio. Then we’ll talk.”

Trina began drifting again. “Some

honeymoon,” she said as she drifted off.

“Yeah,” Reno said, rubbing the hair

out of her face, fighting back the tears. “I
hear ya’, sister.”

***

Two hours later and the Sheriff entered

the hospital room. By now Trina was awake
again and talking with her father, who sat on
the edge of her bed. Reno was further away,
leaned against the back wall talking on his
cell phone to Vegas, and Carmine was
seated in a chair on his cell phone talking
with his people in Jersey. They didn’t have
any west coast mob connections where

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Partanna’s main base of operations were, so
the information either one of them were get-
ting was sketchy.

Cecil Hathaway, Trina’s tall, hand-

some father, stood to his feet when the Sher-
iff arrived. Although Reno and Carmine no-
ticed the arrival, they continued their separ-
ate phone conversations.

“Good afternoon, Sheriff,” Cecil

said. It seemed to Reno that he was eyeing
that sheriff suspiciously.

“Afternoon, Cecil,” the Sheriff said

as he walked further toward the bed. He
was a big, burly man, tall and strapping, and
had a tank-sized cowboy hat on his head and
wore a blazer with a stitching of bullhorns
on its back. Although he glanced at Reno
and Carmine, his focus was on Trina. “Is
this the victim?”

“Yes, sir, this here is my daughter

Katrina.”

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“I didn’t even know you had a daugh-

ter, Cecil, till they told me about the fire.
Hello, there,” he addressed this to Trina.

“Hello.”

“Seems you got yourself in quite a

mess here,” he said. “And just got in town,
from what I understand. Which means you
brought the mess with you. What kind of
craziness you done got yourself caught up
in, little girl? Nearly got your own mama
killed.”

“Let me call you back,” Reno imme-

diately said into his cell phone, flipped it
shut and headed for the bed. Carmine cut his
call too, and followed Reno.

“Hello, Sheriff,” Reno said, “can I

help you?”

The sheriff looked at Reno as if he

had some nerve. His men had told him that
they believed this daughter of Cecil’s was a
prostitute or something and nearest they
could figure Reno was probably her pimp.

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“Can you help me?” the sheriff said. “Yeah,
you can help me. You can keep your nose
out of this here business, that’s how you can
help me.”

“I choose not to do that,” Reno said.

“What else you got?”

“Sheriff, this is--,” Cecil started, to

introduce Reno, but the Sheriff cut him
short.

“I’ll tell you what else I’ve got,” the

Sheriff said, his body now turned toward
Reno. “I’ve got a mind to sail your ass
straight to the penitentiary, that’s what I’ve
got. What you’ve got is about thirty
seconds to get out of this room and stay out
of these people’s business.”

“These people are my people, you

dick!” Reno said, his control gone.
Carmine, realizing law enforcement was not
who they wanted to tangle with right now,
hit him on the elbow.

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“That’s my wife,” Reno said, ignor-

ing Carmine. “So anything you need to say
to her, you say to me.”

The sheriff seemed a little off put by

this revelation, but he still wasn’t charit-
able. A pimp, in his book, was as low as a
murderer or rapist. “I don’t know if she’s
your wife or not, I didn’t know pimps mar-
ried their hookers. But even if she is--”

“What?” Cecil said, astounded.

“Pimp? Hooker? What are you talking
about Sheriff?”

Reno was staring at the sheriff. Any

other time and that red neck’s teeth would
have been on the floor by now, at the very
least that would have happened. But this
was no ordinary time. There had been an at-
tempt on Trina’s life. And he wasn’t even
sure by whom. Reno wasn’t about to do
anything that would get him locked up in
some jail and unable to protect her the way
he knew he had to. That was why he backed

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up. That was why he held his tongue.
Trina’s

father,

however,

didn’t

hold

anything.

“Are you out of your mind?” he

asked the Sheriff.

“My daughter is

nobody’s prostitute, never was and never
will be. And this man you’re calling a pimp
owns the PaLargio Hotel and Casino in Las
Vegas, Nevada, Sheriff, what are you talk-
ing about? He’s nobody’s pimp.”

The sheriff looked at Reno. “The

PaLargio?” he said, stunned.

“In Las Vegas, Nevada, yes,” Cecil

replied.

“I know where the PaLargio is,” the

Sheriff snapped. “It’s right on the Strip,
along with Caesars Palace and Bally’s and
the rest of those places.”

“That’s right,” Cecil said. “So I

don’t know what those Klansmen deputies
of yours told you, but they don’t know what
they’re talking about.

None of them

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interviewed any of us last night anyway, and
it’s in the afternoon already before you get
here.”

“That’s because the arson people had

to be called in first. I didn’t want to talk to
anybody until I knew what I had to talk
about.”

“What happened?” Cecil asked.

“The stove exploded or something?”

“No, Cecil,” the sheriff said, “that

thing was intentionally set. This was no
accident.”

Although Reno didn’t bat an eye as

he stared at the sheriff, and pretended to be
as astounded by the news as Cecil was, his
heart was hammering. And he knew, just
hearing the official version, that his days of
trying to play Mr. Nice Guy, of trying to
stay the hell away from that hellish life,
were over. Whether he liked it or not, he
was in, and he was in, with Trina right by
his side, at the center of the storm.

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110/385

SIX

Two weeks later

Trina woke up, in her soft bed at the

PaLargio, to the feel of Reno’s hard penis
entering her from behind. Her eyes fluttered
and then closed again as he slid inside of
her, and the feel of his rod caused her body
to become so relaxed that she began to ache
in anticipation of what she knew was soon
to come. Reno had his hands completely
around her, and the side of his face was rest-
ing against her bare back, as he slowly but
surely began fucking her. It had been nearly
two weeks since that horror show in Dale,
and although she’d wanted this moment to
come long before now, Reno wouldn’t touch
her like this until he was certain she was
completely healed.

Not that she was badly injured. Her

mother got the worst of it. Her mother, in
fact, was still hospitalized in Dale. But
Trina got out with more psychological dam-
age than anything physical. She got out
wondering what in the world had she gotten
herself into. She loved Reno, she’d always
love Reno, but damn. They could have
killed her and her mother. That alone was
enough to make anybody, love or no love,
have second thoughts.

Reno began to groan as his gyrations

began to increase. He closed his eyes as he
moved in and out of her, his rod rubbing
against her wall and giving him that feel of
electricity that always made him groan. His
dick was leaking already, engorging already,
coming already.

“Oh, Tree,” he said as he kept the

side of his face on her bare back, as he held
her tighter, enjoying the easiness of being
with her, the calm he always felt in the early

112/385

stages of their lovemaking. It had been so
long, and he’d wanted her so desperately,
but he wasn’t going to rush it.

Trina felt his easiness too, and lay

comfortably, her hands folded on the side of
her face, as he moved in and out of her. She
could feel the electricity too, felt it like a
pulse just beneath the surface of her clit,
thumping and thumping with every swipe of
her G-spot. She closed her eyes too, enjoy-
ing her husband’s masterful sex, still
amazed that this big, powerful, wonderful
man belonged to her.

Not all that long ago she was waiting

tables in a strip joint, taking all kinds of ab-
use, and now she was the wife of a very rich
and powerful and gorgeous man. A man
who not only knew how to take care of her
creature comforts, but all of her more prim-
itive ones as well. And right here and now
she refused to take the long view. She re-
fused to become consumed, as she had for

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the last two weeks, about the fragility of
their existence, about all of the craziness
that often surrounded them, and just enjoy
the moment.

For the longest time they rolled this

way, in a singsong rhythm, Reno sliding in
just so far, and then sliding out, over and
over, his dick enlarging with every reentry.
He wanted this to last, and so did Trina, as
they both paddled against the tide, taking it
slow when speed was all around them, en-
joying the view when the view was as
cloudy now as it had been back in Dale.

It was a clinging kind of lovemak-

ing. A desperate togetherness. A tumultu-
ous easiness.

Trina knew Reno’s massive sexual

appetite well enough to know that the easy
couldn’t last too much longer; that the easy
would eventually stop, and the rough would
begin. She knew it when his gyrations be-
came less rhythmic, as he would remain in

114/385

longer and longer before he would slide
out. Once he went all the way in until his
balls were rammed against her ass, and he
kept trying to go in even further. That was
when she knew it was time.

He pulled out of her completely and

moved on top of her, sucking her breasts as
he urgently slid into her again. Kissing her
lips as he moved in deeper and deeper. And
the pounding began. This was the best time
of all for Trina. She liked it like this. He
wrapped himself around her, she wrapped
herself around him, as his penis made her
feel like screaming his name. The head-
board was banging, the bed was shaking,
and Reno’s muscular body was strained as
he pounded, as he fought the cum; as he
fought the need to spill out now and leave it
all inside of her.

He lay his body on top of hers and

held her tighter as he banged. She cried out
as he banged her. It was different with

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Reno. It was always so different with him.
He never failed to make her feel as if she
couldn’t take it anymore, only to take more
and more of it. His rod was deep inside of
her now, and she felt every inch of it, as her
neck lifted up and her head lobbed back and
her entire body tensed into a spasm of joy
and release as she came all over him.

He pushed as deep as he humanly

could inside of her, as he came too, as he
stiffened into a crescendo of release, and
drained into her. Into his woman. Into his
wife. And the feeling of that release, and
the anxiety of the unresolved madness that
still swirled around them, made him feel as
if he was a victim of some crime who es-
caped within an inch of his life. He was re-
lieved and happy, but was traumatized too.

Afterwards, as they lay side by side,

sweaty, exhausted, and satisfied, he pulled
her into his arms. He remained completely
silent, which wasn’t like him. He usually

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cracked a joke about her prowess, or asked
insincerely if she wanted more. This time,
however, he said nothing.

She looked at him.

“What’s wrong, Reno?” she asked

him.

He pulled her closer still. “Nothing,

sweetie,” he said. “Just tired.”

“You’ve got more meetings today,

don’t you?”

“A few, yes.”

“With all of those strange men com-

ing and going.”

“What strange men? They aren’t

strangers. They’re friends of the family.
They help run my father’s various business
interests. I’m trying to shut a lot of that
down, especially the illegal stuff, but it’s
complicated, it takes a lot of maneuvering.
It’s a pain in the ass if you wanna know the
truth,” he said with a weak smile. “But I’m
doing what I can.”

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“What about those cousins you told

me about? Tommy and somebody.”

“Tommy and Sal Luca.”
“Can’t they help you?”

“They are helping me. They’re all

over the east coast, finding whatever they
can about Partanna’s underground activit-
ies. Then they’re coming to Vegas. But not
before they have something to come to Ve-
gas with.”

“But I thought Partanna operated

from the west coast.”

“He did. But his underground is on

the east. That much we know for sure.
Tommy and Sal will be in town any day
now. And believe you me, they ain’t com-
ing unless they have some news, and a seri-
ous plan of action.”

Trina stared at Reno, fearful. “A plan

of action? To do what, Reno?”

Reno closed his eyes.
“To do what, Reno?”

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“What you think, Tree?” he said,

opening his eyes again. “They tried to kill
you. You think I’m gonna let some fucker
try to kill my own wife and do nothing
about it? You think I’m that kind of man?”

“But if you hit them, they’ll hit

back.”

“Like hell they will! They won’t

have anything to hit back with. Once we
discover the target, we won’t miss this
time.”

It still sounded like a vicious cycle to

Trina. He hit them, they hit him, he hit
back, they hit back, on and on. “You said
they weren’t going to hit back when
Partanna was killed.”

“We didn’t know what we didn’t

know, Tree. We just didn’t know Partanna
had brains. We didn’t know it was all an
act. That was my fault. I should have
known better. I won’t make the same mis-
take again.” Then he sat up, ruffled his

119/385

already ruffled hair.

“I’d better get

dressed,” he said, looking at her naked
body. “Unless you’re up to another round.”

“Get out,” she said, pushing him out

of bed.

He laughed. “Don’t worry, I’m go-

ing,” he said, getting out. “I’ve got a meet-
ing with the Feds anyway.”

Trina’s heart dropped. “The Feds?”

“FBI, ATF, it’s no big deal, Tree.

They’re always questioning me. Even when
I didn’t have a damn thing to do with any
mob, they were questioning me. So let’em
question me. They’ll never link me to any
crimes.”

Trina’s heart grew faint. It was one

thing to know what this life was like theoret-
ically. She had this lifestyle down in the-
ory. But living it was another story alto-
gether. A story whose ending she was be-
ginning to dread.

120/385

She called her father at the hospital

while Reno went into the bathroom and
showered. Her mother, who was still hos-
pitalized, was about the same. They were
planning to ship her to the burn center in
Alabama once she was able to travel,
Trina’s father said, but not yet. “She’s still
too fragile,” he said.

“I can come back,” Trina said to her

father, worried as usual. “You need some-
body there with you.”

“Thank-you, baby,” Cecil Hathaway

said into the phone, “but I’ll be all right.
My church members make sure I have
plenty company. Besides, that husband of
yours isn’t about to let you come anywhere
near this place again. At least not right
now. You should see the guards he has on
me and your mama. Folks round here think
we’re rock stars or something.”

Trina smiled. “I know. Reno can

overdo things sometimes. He means well.”

121/385

“No doubt about that. I’m sure he

does. That’s why you need to stay put. Be-
ing with him is your best protection.”

“I know.”

“The thing is though,” Trina’s father

started.

Trina’s heart pounded. “What?” she

asked him.

“When will it all end? I mean, he

doesn’t expect us to live the rest of our lives
with bodyguards and such. Does he?”

Trina didn’t respond, because she

didn’t know what to say. That was really
the question, wasn’t it? What about tomor-
row? What quality of life could anybody
have if they constantly had to be under the
watchful eye of, as her father put it, body-
guards and such? And this stumped Trina,
because she just didn’t know what to say.

“It’s just temporary, Dad,” she said to

say something, although she had no clue if it

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was true. She was as new to this lifestyle as
he was.

After talking general talk with her

father for a few minutes longer, and praying
with him for the full recovery of her mother,
she hung up. A few minutes later, Reno was
out of the shower, dried off, and opening his
underwear drawer.

Trina was, by now, seated on the

edge of the bed in Reno’s red silk house-
coat. “Dad said hello,” she said.

“Your father?” Reno said, looking at

her. “How’s Ma?”

“The same. They want to move her

to some burn center in Alabama when she’s
able to travel.”

Reno hesitated. Shook his head.

“That’s really rough, Tree. I’m so sorry that
had to happen.”

“She’ll come through it.”

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“I know. But it’s still a shame.” He

said this as he pulled out a pair of
briefs.

Trina glanced at his penis, amazed at

how large it was even without any stimula-
tion. And she was also amazed that just
seeing it again made her want it inside her
again. “I’m going back to work tonight,
Reno,” she said.

Reno was shaking his head before

she

finished

speaking.

“Not

yet,

sweetheart.”

“Why not? I’m fine now.”

“Physically you were always find.

But I don’t think going to work is a good
idea.”

“Going tonight, or going period?”

Reno was slipping on his pair of

briefs. “Going period, Tree, okay? I just
don’t see where any wife of mine needs to
be out there working.”

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“Out where? I’m going to be right

here at the PaLargio, Reno. You hired me
as a manager apprentice and I plan to con-
tinue my apprenticeship.”

“Come on, Tree.”
“I do.”

Reno slipped a t-shirt on and looked

at her, his frustration building. “What are
you nuts?” he asked. “You think my wife is
gonna work at my hotel as some
apprentice?”

“But that’s what I am. When you

married me I was a manager apprentice.”

“Well, you’re Mrs. Dominic Gabrini

now. The owner of this establishment. You
will not be working in it.”

Trina could hardly believe her ears.

Who was this person? The person she had
married understood her need for independ-
ence. Now, after that attempt on her life in
Dale, he’d been acting so nervous, scared al-
most. That confidence she loved about him

125/385

still there, but it was shaky at best. “I have
to work, Reno.”

“Why? Why you gotta work?

What’s so fundamentally necessary for you
to work? Before, yeah, I understood it. You
had bills to pay, you had to take care of
yourself. Now you got me, and I pay your
bills. I take care of you.”

“But I don’t need you to take care of

me. I have to take care of myself.”

“Fine. By all means do so. But not

as some apprentice at my hotel.”

“Okay,” she said as she stood up and

began walking toward the bathroom. “I’ll
just have to find somewhere else.”

Reno slipped on his pants and caught

her by the arm as she was about to pass by.
“Wait,” he said. “What you mean you’ll
find somewhere else?”

“I will find somewhere else to work,

that’s what I mean. You’re firing me, that’s
what you’re saying when you say I can’t

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work here anymore. So I said okay. I’ll
look around, put in some applications.
Maybe even get my old job back.”

“Your old job? At that strip joint?

What I look like to you, Tree? I look like a
fool to you? I look like a man who’s gonna
have his wife, his wife, working in some
strip joint?”

“I wasn’t a stripper.”

“I don’t care if you was the gotdamn

owner,

you

working

there

ain’t

happening!”

Trina stared at Reno. She knew she

was in for a battle, but nothing like this. “I
want to work, Reno,” she said. “I can’t just
sit around twirling my thumbs, I’m not built
like that and I don’t wanna do that. I have
to work.”

Reno studied his wife. She’d been

taking care of herself so long that she
wouldn’t begin to know how to bend to
somebody else’s will. He understood that.

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He didn’t like it, but he understood it. And
the idea of her working outside of the
PaLargio, away from his people, away from
his watchful eyes, was out of the question
right now. “Okay, you win,” he said with a
reluctance she knew not to push.

“Thanks, Reno,” she said with a

smile, hugging him. Then she looked at
him. “So what club do I get?” she asked.

“What?” he replied, puzzled.

“You’re making me a manager now,

right?”

“A manager? A manager my foot.

What you think the PaLargio is? Some Ma
and Pop grocery store? You learn how to
work the cash register and now you’re the
manager? You just got here, you ain’t ready
to be no manager.”

“But you said no wife of yours was

going to work as an apprentice.”

“Yeah, but that was before you

strong-armed me.”

128/385

“Me? Strong-armed you?”

“A strong-arm robbery in broad day-

light just as sure as I’m standing here.”

Trina smiled. “Are you serious?”
“As a heart attack, sister.”

“And what was I supposed to have

taken in this robbery, Reno, tell me that.
What was I supposed to have taken?”

Reno stopped smiling. Exhaled.

“My heart,” he said with all sincerity, and
Trina’s melted.

And she fell, once again, into his

arms.

129/385

SEVEN

Lee Jones smiled when he saw Trina

walk through the doors of the Taffeta
Lounge, the PaLargio’s grandest club and
the one he managed. He was seated at the
bar going over receipts.

“Hey there, Lee, what’s up?” Trina

said jovially as she sat down on the stool be-
side him. She was dressed very casually, he
noticed, in a bright blue paisley chiffon
dress with short, flutter sleeves and a wide
scooped neckline. Her shoes, blue and
white slipper shoes, were also casual. But
she looked radiant, he thought.

“So he let you out of the penthouse,”

Lee said purposely derisively and Trina hit
him playfully on his arm. He smiled. “So
what’s up with you?”

“Just wanted to let you know that I’m

back,” Trina said. “I’ll be back on the job
tonight.”

“Really?” He looked at her. “And

Reno knows this?”

“Of course Reno knows.”
“And he approves?”
“Yes, he approves, dang, Lee, you act

like you’re surprised.”

“I am.”

Trina looked at him. He was a tall,

good looking brother with a small afro,
bright eyes, and a sensuality that kept him a
favorite among the females. He also was a
favorite of Reno’s, a man who knew Reno
better than most of the other staff. “You
heard about all the craziness that’s been go-
ing on?”

He nodded. “I’ve heard.”

“Reno won’t admit it, but there’s a

mob war going on, isn’t it, Lee?”

131/385

“I don’t know about any mob war,

but it’s tough out there. Reno’s enemies
made a crucial mistake.”

Trina looked at him.

“What

mistake?”

“They went after you.”

Trina nodded. “Reno says he can’t

let them get away with that.”

“Damn straight.”
“But it’ll never end if he hits back.”

“Oh, it’ll end. They started it when

they killed his father and brother. But he’ll
end it, don’t you worry about that. But he
has to hit back, Trina, no question. He has
to. They went after his wife. What do you
expect him to do?”

“Yeah, that’s what he’s always say-

ing.” Then she tried to smile, to forget all of
the craziness that now defined her life.
“What time does Jazz get in?” she asked.

“Jazz?”

132/385

“Yeah. My friend. Your apprentice,

remember? I tried her cell, but it’s appar-
ently been disconnected.”

“Didn’t she tell you?”

“I haven’t spoken to her since I’ve

been back. I’ve been meaning to come
down to see her, but I was afraid if I came
down I wouldn’t want to go back up. Nuts,
right? But where is she? What’s going
on?”

“I had to fire her.”

Trina was stunned. “Fire her? But

why, Lee?”

“She slept with a patron.”

Trina frowned.

“What do you

mean?”

“She slept with one of my customers

who happened to be staying here at the
PaLargio. He was here on a business trip.
She slept with the guy upstairs, in one of our
hotel rooms.”

133/385

Trina could hardly believe Jazz could

be that dumb. “Are you sure?”

“Positive. One of the housekeeping

staff saw them go into the room.”

“While she was on duty?”

“Yup. And even if she was on break

it would still have been against the rules,
Trina. I mean, a maid saw her going into
some room with some dude. How tacky is
that? She recognized Jazz as one of our em-
ployees, so she reported it. I had no choice,
Trina. Reno doesn’t play that.”

Trina nodded. She understood why

she was fired. What she couldn’t under-
stand, however, was why Jazz would jeop-
ardize so much, why she would throw away
the best chance she was ever likely to get for
a quickie with some stranger passing
through. It was so unlike Jazz and unfortu-
nately, Trina thought as she excused herself
and left the Taffeta, exactly like Jazz.

***

134/385

She knew Reno wouldn’t approve, and

she knew she’d be late for her first night
back at work herself, but she got into her
Honda Civic and drove across town to
Jazz’s place. When there was no response,
she drove even further north to Jazz’s old
man Nathan’s place. Nobody was there
either. So she drove over to Boyzie’s.

It was still early for Boyzie’s, as only

a handful of customers were in the place,
with most of them drinking at the bar. Trina
remembered well her days as a waitress
there, and spoke to the few staff on duty,
taking in stride their jokes about how she
made it out of the gutter, as she made her
way to Jazz.

Jazz was seated at a back booth

laughing with Willie, one of the waiters,
when Trina walked up. Jazz looked at
Trina’s chiffon dress first, and then at her
big, Gucci handbag, at that diamond ring on

135/385

her finger, and rolled her eyes. “What are
you doing here?” she asked her old friend.

Trina was surprised by her venom,

what had she done to her? But she decided
to ignore it, decided to chuck it up to the
fact that nobody was in a good mood after
getting fired. “Hey, Will, what’s up?” Trina
said.

“You apparently,” Willie said, stand-

ing. “Everybody ain’t able to be working at
no PaLargio, no they ain’t.”

“Depends on who you sleep with,

Will,” Jazz said as she sipped from her glass
of beer. “I slept with a regular old business-
man and got dumped. Trina sleeps with the
owner, and gets free nights in the
penthouse.”

“Don’t mind her, Tree,” Willie said

as he began to leave, “she’s just a bitter old
maid.”

“Who you calling old?” Jazz yelled

as he left. Only she did look older, Trina

136/385

thought as she slid onto the booth bench
across from her.

“I don’t recall giving you permission

to sit down,” Jazz said.

Trina stared at her friend, her hazel

eyes narrowing as she studied her. “What’s
the matter with you?” she asked her.

“What you think, Tree? They fired

me and you didn’t do a damn thing about
it.”

“Me?”
“Yeah you!”

“I was in the hospital, Jazz,” Trina

said, amazed. “I was nearly killed! I’m
sorry if you and your apprenticeship wasn’t
something that I was thinking about at the
time.”

Jazz closed her eyes, leaned back.

Exhaled. “I’m sorry, girl, I hear ya’. I’m
just bitter like Willie said.” Then she
looked at Trina for the first time. “How you
doing anyway?”

137/385

Trina leaned back too. “I’m doing,”

she said with a weak smile.

“They said you wasn’t badly hurt. I

tried to call your cell, but I figured it burned
up in the fire.”

“I lost it anyway. And I wasn’t badly

hurt. My mother, on the other hand--”

“But she’s okay now, right?”

“She’ll live, but she’s still in the hos-

pital. They plan to move her to a burn cen-
ter. I would go down there, but Reno and
my father doesn’t think it’s a good idea.”

“But what happened? Folks at the

PaLargio said it was just a house fire, that a
stove exploded or something.”

“That’s what Reno’s people are

telling everybody, but it was more than
that.”

Jazz looked at Trina. “Intentional

you mean?”

Trina nodded. “Yep. That’s why

they’re keeping me away from there. They

138/385

believe some enemies of Reno’s caused the
explosion.”

“Dang, Tree,” Jazz said, a look of

concern piercing her face. “And you can
handle that?”

“Not really, no,” Trina said, a wor-

ried look overtaking her. “But I have to.”

“You don’t have to do a damn thing.

You’re a grown-ass woman. You can still
get out. I haven’t told anybody, you know.”

Trina frowned. “Still get out? And

what haven’t you told?”

“About your marriage to Mr. Gab-

rini. I haven’t told a soul. You can still get
out.”

Still get out? Was she kidding? She

made leaving Reno sound like it would be as
simple as getting up and going. And yeah,
she’d go all right, but with her heart, her
very reason for living, left behind. “What
makes you think I wanna get out?”

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“Oh,” Jazz said with a smile, leaning

her back to the wall and placing her legs up
on the booth seat, “excuse me. I thought
mob hits and firebombs would scare the shit
out of you and you would want out. But I
guess not. I guess his dick that thick and
rich, hun?”

Trina wasn’t about to discuss Reno’s

dick with her or anybody else. “It’s not
easy, Jazz, I’m not trying to say it’s easy.
But I knew going in that being married to
Reno wasn’t going to be easy. What I’ve
concluded, thought, is that it’s still worth it;
that even if I had a wonderful man who
could give me an easy ride, he still wouldn’t
be a third of the man Reno is. Nobody can
touch Reno. Nobody.”

Jazz smiled. And tried again. “I

heard he was good in bed, but damn. He’s
that good?”

“It’s not that. Not by a long shot.

It’s him. Reno. He’s just special, that’s all.

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He’s good. I feel a connection to him that
I’ve never felt to another human being ever,
not even to my own parents. It’s weird.”

“I’m sayin’,” Jazz said.

Trina looked at her. “What’s up with

Nathan?” she asked. “I went by his place,
but he wasn’t home.”

“He’s probably at work.”

“So what’s up with you two? How

are you two getting along?” And how,
Trina also wanted to ask, could you sleep
with another man with a good man like Nat
in your corner?

A cloudy look washed over Jazz’s

face. “I dumped him,” she said. “He’s too
slow for me, Tree, too tired and simple. I
mean I saw it. I saw all of those bougie
dudes coming in and out of the PaLargio,
strapping black businessmen, gorgeous as
all get out, and they were hitting on me. All
the time. They really wanted me. I said

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bump it man, I can have me a classy dude
too.”

Trina stared at Jazz. “Nathan is

classy.”

“Nathan is a construction worker,

okay?”

Trina frowned. “What does his job

title have to do with it?”

“Yeah, that’s easy for you to say,

Mrs. Rich Man Wife. I was tired of strug-
gling, okay, just like you was tired. And I
just couldn’t see Nate doing any better than
he was already doing. I couldn’t see him as
my man anymore. But it’s over now any-
way. He wouldn’t want me back even if I
begged him. Which I have.” She drank
more beer.

“What about the dude you slept

with?” Trina asked her.

Jazz sat her glass back down on the

table. “He was staying there for a week, and
every single night we hooked up in his hotel

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room. That’s why I dumped Nate, because
of Mr. Smooth. And he was smooth, Tree,
let me tell you. He talked all that big talk to
me, got me in bed, sexed me up better than
I’d been sexed up in my life. Then, on the
night before his check out, he walked right
pass me, with another woman on his arms
mind you, like he didn’t know I existed.”
She smiled. “And my stupid ass actually
thought he wanted me. He wanted to fuck
me, yeah, but I thought that my expertise in
bed would be the icing on the cake. When
there was no cake. Just icing.”

Jazz frowned as regret overtook her.

“And I dumped a good, decent, hardworking
man for an illusion. For something I’ll nev-
er have.” She looked at Trina. “I was so
jealous of you, Tree. It was like you didn’t
have to jump through any hoops or do any
of the crazy shit I was trying to do to get
you a dream man. And I hated you for it.
For a minute, anyway.” She said this with a

143/385

smile. Trina smiled too, but only mildly.
“And then I got fired.”

Trina hesitated. “I’ll talk to Reno,”

she said and Jazz’s eyes shot up at her.

“You will?”
“Of course I will.”

“But Lee said to forget ever thinking

about returning to the PaLargio. I asked
him. I begged him. He said Mr. Gabrini
didn’t play that.”

“He doesn’t. And when you return

Jazz you have got to understand that he
doesn’t, that no big business like the PaLar-
gio is going to allow management, even ap-
prentices, to sleep with the hotel guests.
You just can’t do that.”

“Well if it’s such a major crime,”

Jazz said defensively, “why you gonna try to
get my job back?”

“Because you deserve a second

chance,” Trina said. “Because you and me
and people like us don’t know shit about

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places like the PaLargio and the kind of
people they serve, so hell yeah we’ll mess
up before we get it right.”

“You haven’t messed up.”

“Yes, I have,” Trina said. “I left

Reno and took off to Mississippi, remem-
ber? I almost messed up big time. If he
wouldn’t have come and got me, I would
have lived the rest of my life regretting my
decision. But Reno came for me, he even
married me. He gave me a second chance.”

“So you’re giving me one?”
Trina nodded. “Yeah.”

Jazz turned her body back toward

Trina. Tears began to fill her eyes. “Thank-
you, Tree,” she said. “I won’t mess up this
time.”

“You can’t,” Trina warned. “I may

be Reno’s wife, but even he won’t give you
a third chance.”

Jazz smiled. Then looked beyond

Trina and frowned. “Speaking of that

145/385

husband of yours,” she said and Trina im-
mediately turned in the direction of her
gaze. Reno was entering Boyzie’s, Armani
suit, Italian shoes and all. “And he doesn’t
look any too pleased, either.”

Trina turned back around. “He’s

not,” she said. “Believe that.”

Reno was eventually directed to the

back booth where his wife and Jazz were
seated. He looked at Jazz first, his hand on
the middle button of his suit coat. “Hello,”
he said. “Jazz, right?”

“That’s right, hi.”

Then he looked at Trina. “You

ready?” he said. “Let’s go.”

“I was still talking with Jazz.”
“The conversation’s over. Let’s go.”
It was obvious to Trina that Reno was

doing all he could to control his fiery tem-
per. And she wasn’t about to set him off,
not here, not at her old stomping ground.
She stood up.

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“What time do you get off?” she

asked Jazz.

“Eleven,” Jazz said.
“I’ll call you later.”
“Okay, Trina, and thanks again.”

Trina smiled as she led the way out

of the club. Once outside, she was surprised
to see Reno’s Bentley parked where her
Honda had been. “Where’s my car?” she
asked him.

“It’s on its way back to the PaLar-

gio,” Reno said. “Exactly where you’re
headed,” he added as he opened his passen-
ger side door.

“I didn’t give permission for anybody

to drive my car,” she said.

“Tree,” he said with that warning

tone she knew so well, “don’t make me
show my ass in this parking lot. Get in the
car.”

Trina hesitated, surprised by his tone,

but she got in the car.

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He closed the door with some force

and got in behind the wheel. It wasn’t until
they were well on their way, however, did
he trust himself enough to speak. “I am not
an unreasonable man,” he said, his tone
measured. “I cut you slack, I cut you more
slack than I cut my own mother. I try to see
it your way, even when I don’t agree with
that way. But I understand you’re a smart,
independent woman who has her own
thoughts on things, and I love you for that. I
respect you for that. But when I tell you to
keep your ass inside the PaLargio, for your
own good, for your own safety, I expect you
to do that, Katrina. I don’t expect to go all
over the place looking for you, to nearly
have a heart attack wondering if some shit
just went down that I don’t know a thing
about, only to have my boys call and tell me
you’re at some gotdamn strip joint hanging
out with some gotdamn friend!”

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He stopped himself, to calm himself

back down. “This shit ain’t no game, Tree.
They nearly killed you in Dale!” He
slammed the palm of his hand against the
steering wheel as he said this, and glanced at
her, his face a mask of anguish. “And
you’re acting like you don’t get how serious
this is, like it’s some kind of joke to you!”

“I know it’s not a joke, Reno. I never

said it was a joke.”

“Then why did you leave without let-

ting me know where you were going?”

“Because I didn’t want to hear any

lecture from you, all right?” Trina said this
with a little venom of her own. “And then
after the lecture you still say I can’t go. I
should be in Dale right now, at my mother’s
bedside, but you won’t let me do that,
either.”

“You ain’t going back to Dale.”

“Why not, Reno? Nobody’s camped

out there looking to gun me down.”

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“You don’t know who’s where so

don’t act like you do. Dale isn’t my turf, I
don’t know the players, I don’t know who’s
a stranger, who’s not, I don’t know the en-
vironment. You stay on my turf until I get
this craziness under control, you understand
me? After that you’re free as a bird. Go to
the moon for all I care.” Then he looked at
her. “Well, you ain’t going to no moon be-
cause I do care and I’ll have to go with you
and I’m afraid of heights.” He smiled.
Trina tried not to, but cracked a smile too.

Then she looked at him. “Reinstate

Jazz,” she said.

He frowned. “What? Reinstate her?

What are you talking about?”

“Lee Jones fired Jazz. I want you to

hire her back.”

“Lee fired her? Why Lee fired her?”

Trina looked back at the road in front

of them. “She slept with one of the hotel
guests.”

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“Now, Tree, you know I don’t play

that.” He said this as he stopped at a red
light.

“I know, Reno. But she’s new to the

rules.”

“New to what rules? That you don’t

fuck up at work? That ain’t no new rule.”

“That every man that sings your

praises doesn’t mean what he says.”

“Oh, so she’s some naïve virgin girl

now that can easily be had? Is that what you
expect me to believe? And if it’s true, you
expect me to hire back somebody like that
as a manager apprentice to someday run one
of my clubs?”

“That’s not what I’m saying.” Trina

tried again. “I’m saying she messed up.
She knows she messed up. And I want you
to give her a second chance.”

“Mixing friends and business is a bad

combination, Tree.”

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“I know that. But she’s my closest

friend and she needs my help. You said I
own the PaLargio too now, didn’t you say
that?”

“You do own it. What’s mine is

yours. And just so there won’t be no bull-
shit, I already had my attorneys change my
will. You get it all when they get rid of
me.”

“Don’t say it like that!”
“You know what I mean.”

“Then I want her hired back. And I

want her hired back at the Taffeta under
Lee, because he’s the best.”

“You’re training under Amos, my

GM. He’s the best.”

“Amos is a conceited asshole who

thinks he knows it all. Lee knows it all. I
can handle Amos, Jazz can’t. She’ll get the
best training she can get under Lee. And
that’s who I want her under.”

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Reno exhaled, turning a corner and

then another. “What if Lee won’t take her
back?”

“Lee has no choice. Besides, he’ll do

whatever you tell him to do.”

Reno looked out of his rearview mir-

ror, looking to make sure their security was
doing its job. Then he glanced at his wife,
at her shapely legs coming down from under
her cute chiffon dress. “You’re using up a
lot of good will with me, you know that?”

“I know that.”

“I don’t fuck around when it comes

to my business. That’s why I don’t hire
friends.”

“I know that, too.”

Then Reno exhaled. “She’d better be

worth it, that’s all I got to say.”

Trina smiled. “She’s worth it.”

“Now back to this excursion of yours

today,” Reno started, but Trina cut him off.

153/385

“I went to see my friend, Reno, that’s

all it was about. And if I want to go see
somebody else tomorrow, I’ll go see some-
body else.”

Reno looked at her. “Like hell you

will!”

“I will go. I refuse to be a prisoner,

Reno. If it’s my time, it’s my time, but I
won’t just sit around some hotel acting like
I’m terrified of living. You go. You’ve
been all over Vegas since we got back,
sometimes coming back home so late it’s al-
most daybreak.”

“I’m handling business, Tree--”

“I didn’t say you weren’t handling

business, although I don’t know too many
businesses that keep those kinds of hours.”

“I keep those kinds of hours. The

men I have to meet with keep those kinds of
hours. What you think I’m off to some titty
bar somewhere, sleeping around with some
female somewhere?”

154/385

It had crossed Trina’s mind. “No,

that’s not what I think. I’m just saying you
get around, and you get around at all hours.
Why can’t I have the same level of freedom
too?”

“Because you’re my wife!” he

yelled. “Because somebody tried to take
you away from me! Because no wife of
mine is gonna disregard what I tell her to
do!”

“And if she does disregard it? What

you gonna do, Reno? Beat me? Put me over
your knee and spank me? Lock me up at the
PaLargio, which is what you’re trying to do
now?”

“I’m not trying to,” he started, ran his

hand through his hair, and then shook his
head. “You know what? Believe whatever
you want, all right?” He pulled his car into
the circular entranceway of the grand PaLar-
gio Hotel and Casino, the waterfalls lifting
up in a magnificent sweep, and then

155/385

cascading back down. The valet staff, who
knew Reno’s Bentley on sight, hurried to
greet them.

“But you’d better not leave this place

ever again,” Reno said firmly as the valet
moved to open the passenger door, “without
checking with me first.” Another valet
moved to open Reno’s door as he removed
his seatbelt. “That much is not debatable,
Tree.”

“You say,” Trina said as she moved

to get out of the car.

“Damn right I say,” Reno said as he

also stepped out of the car.

“Good evening, Mr. Gabrini,” the

valet greeted him.

“Good evening, Mrs. Gabrini,” the

second valet greeted Trina.

“Hi, Milo,” Trina said, trying her best

not to display her anger.

Reno, however, hurried toward the

entrance as Trina began heading inside

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without him. Trina’s valet also spoke to
Reno, but he didn’t respond, and both valets
were surprised that he didn’t slap a hefty tip
in their hands. He’d never, not ever, left
them standing without a tip.

Carmine came up to the couple as

they entered the PaLargio, as they, Trina far
in front, began moving swiftly across the
massive lobby of marble and glass.

“Hey, Trina, how you doing?”

Carmine asked as Trina passed him. But
she just kept walking. Carmine stopped and
looked at her, then looked at an approaching
Reno.

“What’s her problem?” Carmine

asked.

“She’s doesn’t have a problem,”

Reno said without breaking his stride behind
her. “What’s your problem?”

“They’re here,” Carmine said, keep-

ing pace with him.

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“They’re here,” Reno repeated with a

frown. “Who’s here?”

“Tommy and Sal Luca.”

Reno exhaled. “Good,” he said.

“Tree!” he yelled and she stopped walking,
although she didn’t turn around. He and
Carmine walked up to her.

“Where you going?” Reno asked her.

“To work,” she said. “And I’m

already late.”

“And whose fault is that?”

Trina was about to leave again, but

Reno took her by the arm. “Come upstairs
with me. I got some people I want you to
meet.”

“I’ll have to meet them later,” she

said, walking away. “I’m going to work.”

Reno stood still and watched her

leave. Carmine looked at Trina, and then
stared at Reno, expecting him to slap the
shit out of her. Nobody disputed Reno Gab-
rini like that.

158/385

But Reno didn’t so much as call her

back to him. He just watched her, a kind of
sad, regretful look on his handsome, but
weary face. Then he instead went to the
private elevator where the elevator man im-
mediately ushered he and Carmine onto the
elevator. When Reno realized Carmine was
still staring at him, even after the elevator
doors closed and they were on their way to
the penthouse, he frowned.

“What?” he asked his brother-in-law,

frustration all over his face.

“Nothing, Reno,” Carmine said,

backing up.

Reno sighed a great sigh of anguish.

He felt as if he was making a mess of
everything, and didn’t know how to stop the
hemorrhaging. So he leaned against the
shaft, leaned back and folded his arms, and
didn’t even try.

159/385

160/385

EIGHT

Tommy Gabrini and Sal Luca Gabrini

could not have been more different. Tommy
was taller, older, slim, trim and elegant, his
Italian silk suits and Ferragamo shoes an un-
likely style for a man who used to be a cop.

Sal Luca, on the other hand, still had

cop written all over him. He was shorter
than Tommy, five-nine in his stocking feet,
with a muscular physique that gave him that
bulldog, compact look. Although Dapper
Tommy, as they sometimes called him, was
a favorite with the girly-girl, beauty queen
types, Sal Luca was a favorite with the
freaks. With the women with no inhibi-
tions. With females just like him.

Tommy stood at the window of

Reno’s penthouse, his hands in the pockets
of his pleated pants, his ribbed stomach

perfectly flat against his snow white dress
shirt, as he looked out at a sweeping view of
Vegas at night. He found the neon lights,
the waterfalls, the energy itself too ostenta-
tious and gaudy for his taste. To him it
wasn’t beauty, but was a treacherous woman
trying too hard to please, or ignorance
cloaking itself in a train of feathers. Loud,
yes, it was certainly loud. But what else, he
wondered.

He turned as the door to the pent-

house opened and his cousin Reno and
Carmine Rossi walked in. Sal Luca, who
was seated on the sofa flipping through a
magazine, stood to his feet when they
entered. They both respected Reno, and
Tommy even loved him.

Sal Luca,

however, could barely stand the sight of
him.

“Tommy, Sal!” Reno said as he

headed toward his cousins. Although he and
Sal Luca hugged, it was Tommy who got his

162/385

biggest welcome. They bear-hugged, hold-
ing onto each other, Reno even closing his
eyes tightly in a show of affection he rarely
displayed. But this was Tommy here.
Tommy Gabrini. The one man Reno respec-
ted most in this world.

Tommy was a little taken aback by

Reno’s display, especially when he held
onto him, clung to him in a way that con-
cerned him. There was no man tougher than
Reno, and for him to be this spooked, made
Tommy uneasy. He pulled back from his
cousin. Looked at him. “You okay, Ree?”
he asked him.

“Yeah, I’m good,” Reno said, embar-

rassed by his own display, trying to avoid
his eyes. “It’s been a long time, that’s all.”

“Too long,” Tommy said. “And

listen, we’re real sorry about your father,
and Joey.”

“I know,” Reno said, nodding.

163/385

“We would have come to his funer-

al,” Sal Luca said, “but we didn’t wanna be
disrespectful. Your old man wouldn’t have
wanted us there, Joey wouldn’t have wanted
us there.”

“I know.”

“Or we would have come. So that’s

off the table.”

Reno rolled his eyes. He knew it

would start, he just didn’t expect it this
soon. “It was never on the table, Sal Luca.
Never. Understood?”

“I’m just sayin’.”

“Then stop sayin’ because there’s

nothing to say.”

“What you blowing up my ass for?”

Sal asked. “I’m just sayin’.”

“Sal,” Tommy said in his unaffected,

calm way, but it was enough to quiet his
baby brother. Reno and Tommy exchanged
glances. Just as Reno had his baby brother

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Joey before he died, Tommy had Sal. His
biggest fan. His body man. His shadow.

“Sit down, Tommy, sit down,” Reno

ordered, and Tommy took a seat on the
sofa. Sal Luca immediately took a seat be-
side him.

Reno took a seat in the chair opposite

them, then ordered Carmine to get drinks for
everybody.

“What y’all having?” Carmine asked.
“Black and Tan,” Sal Luca said.
“Gin Rickey,” said Tommy Gabrini.

“One B. and T. and one G.R. coming

up,” Carmine said as he headed for the full,
massive bar along the back wall. He already
knew what Reno wanted.

“So how’s life in Seattle, Tommy?”

Reno asked as he leaned back in a slouched
position.

“Life is good,” Tommy said, his legs

crossed, his perfectly tailored clothes, his
never-a-strand-out-of-place blondish-brown

165/385

hair, his imported shoes, Rolex watch, dia-
mond ring, all an education in elegance. In
the Gabrini family Reno was renowned for
being the toughest of any tough guy, for al-
ways being the leader, the go-to man, the
boss. But Tommy was renowned for having
the brains, for having that rare ability to
reason on a level the rest of them weren’t
even considering. They used to be close,
Tommy and Reno, until the feud between
their fathers caused them to have no choice
but to severe ties. A split they both
regretted.

“It rains too much up there for me,”

Reno said with a grimace. “Every time I go
there it’s raining.”

“Stop believing old wives tales,

Reno,” Tommy said with a smile. “Seattle
has its wet days, but no more than any other
city in our great county.”

"“I still hate it,” Reno said with a

frown. “But talk to me. How’s business? I

166/385

knew you were in the security business, but
last I heard you owned restaurants too?”

“Only a couple, yeah. Diamante’s

and my new one, Taste of Southern it’s
called. A completely different concept. The
security business can be grinding. Too
many variables. My restaurants are my pas-
sion. When I want relaxing work, I hang
out at those particular establishments.”

“I also hear your firm’s been hand-

ling security detail for movie stars and shit
now.”

“Unfortunately, yeah,” Tommy said.
“Tough gig, hun?”

“Pains in the asses you wouldn’t be-

lieve,” Tommy said to Reno’s laughter.
“But I have good people working for me.
They know how to handle their business.
It’s just been too much of it lately. Stalkers,
and crazed fans, and every 90-day wonder
of a just popped up pop star want top dollar

167/385

protection. So we give them top dollar
protection.”

“And as if you didn’t have enough on

your plate, here I come bothering you with
more.”

“You don’t have to say that to me,

Dominic,” Tommy said, his bright green
eyes wide with offense. “You’re family.
You’re number one in my book. You call, I
come. You’re the kid who used to beat up
other kids for taking my lunch money.”

Reno laughed, remembering their

childhood days, remembering how he al-
ways had to defend his brother, sisters,
cousins, everybody, even those that were
older and bigger than he was. “And then
you’d get angry with me all the way home
from school, angry because I stuck up for
you, figuring your skills of persuasion
would win the day when those thugs didn’t
give a damn about your skills. I remember
it well.”

168/385

“I’m just glad you gave me a call,”

Tommy said. “I haven’t had to deal with
any underground work for a few years, but I
still have some pretty good connections.”

“So do I,” Sal said, “and I’m telling

you Reno, what y’all did with Frank
Partanna was a major fuck up.”

Reno looked at Sal. “What the hell

are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about that hit on

Partanna, what you think I’m talking about?
You fucked up. You hit him and left the
brains of his organization untouched.”

“If we would have known he had an

organization beyond himself, Sal, we would
have took care of it. As it happened, we
didn’t know.”

“Right. You fucked up.”

For a hot moment Reno wanted to

kick Sal Luca’s ass, he was one of those ob-
noxious men that made his blood boil, but
Carmine returned with the drinks, handed

169/385

them to everyone, and the moment passed.
Carmine sat on the arm of Reno’s chair.

Reno looked at Tommy. “What’s go-

ing on, Tommy? It’s like everything’s
fuzzy, nothing’s clear. My people been
all over the east, calling in all kinds of
favors, but they aren’t getting any
answers.”

“Your people are too well known on

the east coast, and that’s where the action is,
that’s where Partanna’s underground net-
work is operating. My people, and me and
Sal, aren’t known like that.”

“You got answers?”
“We’ve got answers,” Tommy said.

“What is it?” Carmine asked. “Pags

running the show?”

“Willard Pagnini?” Tommy asked.

“No.”

“Well, that’s where we differ,” Sal

said. “I say he is running it, that this idea
that he’s the backup man, the button only, I

170/385

ain’t buying it. It’s that same sleight of
hands shit Partanna been pulling all his life.”

“What you mean by that?” Carmine

asked Sal.

“Everybody was running around

thinking Frank Partanna was an idiot, a sur-
face don just like Uncle Paulo was.”

“That’s enough, Sal,” Tommy

warned.

“Well it’s true. Reno’s old man, our

Uncle Paulo, didn’t have backup.”

“He had backup,” Carmine said,

offended.

“He had you and Dirty,” Sal said, not

backing down. “That’s not exactly a syndic-
ate, Carmine, now is it?”

“He had Vito Giancarlo in his

corner.”

“A man I wouldn’t trust as far as I

could throw,” Sal said. “But that’s not the
point I’m making here.”

171/385

“What’s your point, Sal Luca?”

Reno asked, staring at his cousin. “Spit it
out.”

“What I’m saying is that everybody

was thinking Partanna was the lone wolf,
when we now find out he wasn’t. Now they
got us thinking Pags ain’t the leader of the
underground, that’s he’s just the underboss,
when I ain’t buying it. Just as sure as my
name is Salvatore Luciano Gabrini, I ain’t
buying it. This business with Pags not being
in control is a con too far as I’m concerned.
They’re taking their con to a whole other
level.”

Reno looked at Tommy, intrigued by

what Sal had just said. Sal was a douche
bag, but he was no moron. Used to, in fact,
be a darn good cop who joined the force
when Tommy joined it, and quit when
Tommy called it quits. “But you don’t think
that’s what’s going on, Tommy?” he asked
his dapper cousin.

“You don’t think

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Pagnini’s really running the show and we all
got it wrong?”

“I don’t think he’s running the show,

no,” Tommy said. “Sal does, but I don’t.”

Although Reno didn’t show it, he was

relieved. Pags was always a loose cannon,
too unpredictable to read. “Pags is second
in command, though? He’s the underboss,
though?”

“Yes, he’s number two,” Tommy

said.

“But who’s number one? Who’s run-

ning this fucking show? I hate chasing
ghosts!”

Tommy sipped from his Gin Rickey,

his eyes intense, as if he was still working it
out to his own satisfaction. “I believe
Partanna has a son.”

Carmine stood to his feet. “Get the

fuck outta here!”

Reno, amazed too, sat erect.

“What?”

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“I’m still working it out, I can’t say it

with one hundred percent certainty, but yes,
I believe he has a son.”

“Who? Where?”

“I believe he’s been hiding in plain

sight, right there in Jersey.”

“Jersey?” Carmine said, astounded.

“That ain’t possible.”

“And that ain’t all,” Sal said with a

grin. “This far-fetched theory of Tommy’s
just gets better and better.”

Reno stared at Tommy. “Who is

he?”

“His name is Paul Brown,” Tommy

said.

Carmine smiled. “Paul Brown? You

got to be kidding me. What kind of name is
that? Nobody has that plain a name. Espe-
cially an Italian.”

“An Italian hiding in plain sight has

it,” Tommy said. “An Italian cop hiding in
plain sight has it.”

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Reno’s mouth almost gaped open.

“A cop?” he asked incredulously.

Sal smiled. “I told you.”
“He’s a cop?” Reno asked.

“An unassuming, uniformed police

officer with the Newark, New Jersey police
department.”

“Get the fuck outta here, Tommy!”

Carmine yelled. “What you telling us
here?”

“I’m telling you it’s complicated,

that’s what I’m telling you,” Tommy said.
“I’m still investigating but that’s what I’ve
uncovered so far. And I believe it’s accur-
ate intel. But we have to be careful with
this, we still don’t have enough information
to make any definitive conclusions. But I
will say this,” he said, looking at Reno this
time, “when we do get that definitive word,
this Paul Brown character and Pags and
everybody else associated with that syndic-
ate will be brought to justice. And I don’t

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mean street justice, Reno. But justice.
Understood?”

Reno leaned back. He was still try-

ing to work out the fact that Partanna could
be that smart to hide his son in plain sight as
a legitimate, unassuming, police officer. He
was so off base about the man, so wrong
beyond his wildest dreams of how wrong he
could be, that it spooked him. Because his
miscalculations and assumptions almost cost
his wife her life. What else, he wondered
with an urgency that was now gripping him,
was he overlooking? What else was he get-
ting so wrong?

His cell phone rang. When he pulled

it out and saw that it was Vito Giancarlo
calling, he answered. “Vito, what’s up?” he
said and everybody in the room looked at
him.

“Reno, how you doing?” Vito said

through the phone.

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“I’m doing good, what’s up?” Reno

knew Vito didn’t call unless something ma-
jor was going down.

“You need to come to Jersey, Reno.

I need to see you.”

“See me about what?”

“We can’t discuss this over the

phone. But you know me, right?”

“Yeah I know you. What you ask me

if I know you for?”

“Because you need to trust that I

know what I’m asking here. You need to
come see me in Jersey. You need to get on
your plane and get here as soon as you can.”

Reno hesitated.

“Is it about

Partanna?” he asked.

“What you think?” Vito said. “Of

course it’s about Partanna. Big time.”

Reno closed his eyes, pinched the

bridge of his nose. “Okay,” he said, “I’ll be
there.”

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There was what sounded like a sigh

of relief. “Good move, Reno,” Vito said.
“I’ll see you when you get here. Come to
my place.”

“Okay,” Reno said and hung up the

phone.

“What Vito Giancarlo want?”

Carmine asked.

“Says he needs to see me. I’m going

to have to fly out to Jersey in the morning.”

“You mentioned Frank Partanna,”

Tommy said. “What about him?”

“He won’t say over the phone.”

“Maybe he agrees with me that it’s

Pags who’s running the show and he wants
to warn you,” Sal Luca said. “Although
with that fucker you can never tell what he’s
really up to.”

“Where does he want to meet you?”

Tommy asked.

“At his place over in Newark.”

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Tommy was shaking his head before

Reno could complete his sentence. “Not a
good idea,” he said. “You could be walking
into a trap.”

“You don’t have to tell me that,”

Reno said a little snappishly. “Who you
telling? I told him okay, I’ll meet him at his
place, but I ain’t going nowhere near his
place. I’ll meet him at a hotel, and I’ll call
him after I get to that particular hotel.”

Tommy smiled, as did Carmine and

Sal Luca. “Does your brain ever sleep,
Reno?” Carmine asked with admiration.

But Reno didn’t answer. The fact

that he had to constantly calculate and recal-
culate, calibrate and recalibrate wasn’t
something he was proud of. And especially
not now, with his responsibilities to Trina,
with this phone call from Giancarlo.

“Don’t look so worried, Reno,”

Carmine said. “Maybe Vito will just rehash
what Tommy and Sal Luca already told us

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about Partanna, maybe that’s all this meet-
ing is about.”

Reno stared forward, thinking.

“Maybe,” he said, although it didn’t feel that
simple. If Vito was insisting on a face to
face, that automatically meant it wasn’t as
simple as information sharing, it wasn’t
simple at all. Something was up. So-
mething big.

He looked at Tommy. Tommy was

staring at him.

***

Vito Giancarlo hung up the phone too.

Seated in the study of his New Jersey home,
he looked across his desk. In front of his
desk, puffing on a cigarette for the first time
in nearly six years, was Marcy Davenport,
looking radiant and determined, he thought,
but also looking flustered and terrified.

“He’s coming?” she asked him.
“He’ll be here,” Vito assured her.

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She doused her cigarette in the ash-

tray on the desk and walked over to the win-
dow. Vito had never seen her so nervous.

“You need to calm yourself down,”

he advised.

“The one thing I said I’d never do in

this life is to have anything more to do with
that Gabrini family. Now the first sign of
trouble and I’m calling Reno.”

“But this is big trouble,” Vito said.

“You need Reno.”

Marcy turned around, leaned her lithe

body against the side of the window and fol-
ded her arms, her wariness showing. “I
know. That’s the only reason I’m allowing
it.”

Vito looked at her magnificent body,

his penis throbbing at just the sight of it.
“He’s married now.”

“You told me.”
“That may change things for him.”

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“That doesn’t change a damn thing,”

Marcy snapped. “She’s just a placeholder.
A black placeholder at that.”

Vito stared at her. “You’re serious?

You gonna try and win him back?”

“If they’re pulling me back into the

game,” she said, “I may as well be with the
best in the business.”

“And Reno’s the best.”

“Reno’s the best,” she admitted.

“The asshole.”

“You should have told him the truth

from the beginning, Marcy, you know how
righteous Reno can be. If you would have
told him the truth, he wouldn’t have left
you.”

“If he loved me he wouldn’t have

walked out on me. He wouldn’t have let his
old man treat me the way he did. If he loved
me the way he was claiming he did.”

“Love,” Vito said dismissively.

“What’s love? I don’t think that ruthless

182/385

son-of-a-bitch Reno Gabrini is capable of
love.”

“He’s capable,” Marcy said with con-

fidence. “And he did love me once,” she
added. Still does, she was also convinced,
just as she was equally convinced about her
own hatred for him, hatred that only began
after he refused to give her a second
chance. Reno was hard like that. Screw
him once and he was through with you. But
he loved her once. Oh how he loved her
once.

And she was depending on that love.

Depending on it like she’d never depended
on anything before in her entire life. Pags
had the goods on her. He’d ruin her life
forever if she didn’t make this work. That
was why they had to do it this way. Be-
cause they were counting on Reno being
Reno and Reno, on Reno being the saint he
was deep down.

183/385

And after she told him why she

needed him, why she was back, he couldn’t,
he wouldn’t be able to let her down again.

184/385

NINE

It was just after midnight when Trina

clocked out and made her way home. Only
she didn’t go to the PaLargio’s penthouse,
Reno’s place, but to her apartment on the
twentieth floor, the apartment he had given
to her when she was still his girlfriend.
She’d been with Amos Logan, the hotel’s
general manager, all evening, visiting all of
the clubs in the PaLargio, putting out fire
after fire after fire, and she was exhausted.
She showered, brushed her teeth, and was in
bed before one am.

Before she could finally drift off to

sleep, however, she heard the door of her
apartment creak open. The bright lights of
the Vegas night shone through her curtain-
less windows and created a room, an entire
apartment, that was never plunged into

complete darkness. That was why, when
Reno appeared at her bedroom door and
leaned against the doorjamb, she could see
him as clearly as he could see her.

“Hey,” he said, sounding as ex-

hausted as she felt.

“Hey yourself.”

“Want to tell me why you’re in that

bed, and not mine?”

Trina, lying on her back, looked over

at him. “I just came here, that’s all. I just
felt like being alone.”

Reno’s heart dropped. He was al-

ways concerned that it would come to this,
that she’d take a closer look at his lifestyle
and decide it was not for her. He hesitated
to get his emotions under control, and then
slowly walked over to the bed. He sat on
the edge of the bed. “Being alone,” he said,
“or being away from me?”

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Trina shook her head. She honestly

didn’t know if it was one, the other, or both.
“I just don’t understand it, Reno.”

“Understand what, sweetheart?”

“How we’re going to live. They hit

your family, you hit their family, they hit
your family, you hit their family. When
does it end?”

“It’ll end, Tree. We’re getting more

and more information. Tommy’s here now
and he’s learned a lot.”

Trina looked at him. “Like what?”
“Like we may know who the man be-

hind the curtain is. We may have the organ-
ization’s brain trust in our sights.”

“Is it the guy you had watching me in

Dale?”

“JoeJoe Ralston? You must be

joking.”

“Have you found him?”
“Not yet.”

187/385

“Don’t harm him, Reno, when you

do. He may know something.”

“The only thing he knows is where

do I pick up my paycheck. But don’t worry
about him. He’ll get his.”

Reno sat there staring at her. And

she knew that look. “What?” she asked.
“What is it?”

Reno exhaled. “I’ve got to go to Jer-

sey in the morning.”

Trina frowned. “But why? I thought

you got your family out of there. I thought
Frank Partanna’s people were operating on
the east coast now.”

“They are. It’s just that I’ve got a

meeting I have to attend. That’s all. I’ll be
back as soon as I can get back. Carmine
will stay here, if you need anything.”

“To be my bodyguard you mean.”

“That too,” Reno said with a smile so

weak even he realized how pitiful he was.
Especially when Trina closed her eyes as if

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she could blot out the way of life she was
now a part of. “Look, Tree,” he said, his
heart hammering at just the thought of her
rejection, “I know you didn’t sign up for
this. I know you want us to go on our hon-
eymoon and live like normal newlyweds, I
know you do. But until I get this situation
under control we can’t go no-where.”

Trina opened her eyes. “You mean I

can’t go anywhere. You go all over the
place. Jersey no less.”

Reno didn’t know what to say.

“Look, Tree,” he started, but she turned her
back on him. Reno wanted to explain and
explain, he wanted to excuse and excuse,
but even he was tired of his own excuses.
He decided to give her some space. To let
her have some time alone just as she said
she needed.

He left. He walked out of her apart-

ment, caught the private elevator up to his
penthouse, and entered his quiet home.

189/385

Tommy and Sal Luca, who would accom-
pany him to Jersey later, were holed up in
their own hotel rooms, and he was alone.
Before he met Trina, he didn’t mind being
alone. Now he hated it.

He brushed his teeth, showered, and

fell naked in bed. He wanted to call Trina,
he wanted to explain himself again, but he
didn’t bother. She’d come around, was his
only hope. He, in fact, prayed that she
would, as he drifted off to sleep.

His prayer was answered within an

hour of his drift off. Trina entered their
penthouse, as she was cleared past all the
different levels of security that always sur-
rounded Reno, and entered with her own
key. When she saw him asleep in bed, she
just stood there. Her initial urge was to turn
around and leave, that there really wasn’t
anything more to say.

But she didn’t turn around. And she

didn’t try to say anything. She simply

190/385

removed the sweats and t-shirt she had
slipped on, and laid in Reno’s bed on the
front side of him. When her stirrings caused
him to open his eyes, and he saw that it was
Trina getting in bed with him, his heart
soared.

“Oh, Tree,” he said, a very happy

man, and pulled her into his arms. “Oh,
Tree,” he said again, fighting back tears.
They fell into a hard embrace, with Reno
holding her so firmly that it was at first un-
comfortable. But she understood it. She
placed her hands on either side of his gor-
geous face and looked at him, looked at the
strain that was always on that face lately, at
the pain deep within his big blue eyes. And
she kissed him on those eyes, as if she could
kiss the pain away.

“I don’t like what’s going on right

now, Reno, I really don’t. I hate it, in fact.
But I love you. I love you dearly. And I
knew going in that being married to a great

191/385

man like you wasn’t going to be normal or
simple or easy or none of those things.” She
said this with a smile, a smile that allowed
Reno to smile too. “But I trust you and I
know you know what you’re doing. So do
what you have to do. Just don’t do anything
foolish, don’t do anything based on emo-
tions. That’s when you’ll mess up and end
up in prison or dead or something. And
that’ll break my heart, Reno. So you do
what you have to do, but remember I’ll be
here waiting for you. You have to come
back to me every time you go away, and you
have to come back to me in one piece.”

Reno loved her so much at that very

moment that he could barely speak. But he
did. “I promise you I’ll always come back.”

“And in one piece.”
He smiled. “And in one piece.”

“Good,” she said. “Good.” Then she

paused. “Now,” she said, smilingly, “if you
will do me the pleasure of taking that

192/385

mammoth rod of yours and sliding it inside
of me, I would be greatly appreciative.”

Reno played dumb. “What?” he

asked. “What rod? Are you asking me to
fuck you, Tree? Is that what you’re asking
me to do? What do I look like a boy toy to
you?”

Trina rolled on top of him, smiling

greatly too. “That’s exactly what you look
like,” she said, feeling for his rod and, find-
ing it, sliding it inside of her, her eyes turn-
ing hooded and lustful as she did. She
looked so sexy to Reno that he was getting a
serious hard-on just gazing at her. “Now
take this toy, boy,” she said as the rod con-
tinued to slide in, “and do what you do.”

Reno wrapped her into his arms, lay-

ing her body down on top of his, as he
began to gyrate, to move in and out of her,
as he could feel her plump breasts press
against his chest. He closed his eyes too.
For him it didn’t get any better than this. “I

193/385

love you, Katrina Gabrini,” he said. “And
don’t you ever forget that.”

His movements began to increase, as

he thought about how much he loved her, as
he thought about what her decision to come
to his bed tonight truly meant. He finally
had a woman he could trust with his life.
He finally had a woman who wasn’t after
his money or power or influence or any of
those things so many women of his past
were after. Trina was after him. Period.
And he knew, if he lost everything tomor-
row and had nothing but his love to give to
her in return, she’d be right here, loving
him, she’d never let him down.

And just the thought of it, that he was

the luckiest man alive, caused his control,
which was barely there to begin with, to
completely leave. And his rod began to
slide deep within her, and he felt the cur-
rents of her sweetness, and like a magnet he
glommed onto that sweetness, glommed on

194/385

the way a drowning man held onto a life
raft. He felt as if he had been drowning, and
then she rescued him. He turned her onto
her back, kissing her hard on her wonderful
lips, admiring every inch of her gorgeous
face, of her beautiful body, and he began to
do it the way they both preferred. Rough.
Hard. He began to pound.

***

Nearly twelve hours later, Reno was in

Newark, New Jersey at the tall bar inside his
hotel suite, pouring himself a stiff one.
Knocks were heard on the door and Vito Gi-
ancarlo walked in. Tommy and Sal Luca
who, along with a security detail, accompan-
ied him on this trip, were also in the suite,
with Sal Luca opening the door for Vito.

But Vito walked in with a female by

his side, a woman Tommy had never seen
before, so he immediately got his attention.

“It’s Vito,” Tommy said, “and a

young lady.”

195/385

Reno immediately looked up. Vito

with a female? That didn’t even sound
right. But when he saw who the young lady
was, that it was, in fact, Marcy Davenport,
his heart pounded against his chest.

“What the fuck,” he said in a voice

too low to be heard, as his eyes could not
believe what they were seeing. Marcy?
Marce Davenport? This had to be some
kind of joke. What was she doing here?

“Tommy Gabrini,” Vito said as he

walked further into the room, extending his
hand. “Looking dapper as usual.”

“Hello, Vito,” Tommy said, shaking

his hand. “It’s been a while.”

“Too long. Always too long. How’s

your old man? How’s Benny? Still with the
cops?”

“He’s good. And yeah, he’s still with

the police.”

“But not you. Reno says you took a

walk.”

196/385

“I resigned to do my own thing.”
“You’re the only honest cop I’ve ever

known, you know that, Dapper Tommy?
You and your old man the only two. Could
have had it made, you and your old man, if
you was willing to get on the pad, to help
out the families. We need men like you,
men like your old man. Would have had it
made.”

“They do have it made,” Sal Luca

said as he came further into the room.
“Tommy’s got his own successful security
firm, got restaurants too, and pop’s the
chief. What more do you want?”

“For a certain party to mind his own

business,” Vito said, eyeing Sal. “Speak
when you’re spoken to, Sal Luca. You’ll go
far in this life.”

Reno remained behind the bar, as he

couldn’t seem to take his eyes off of Marcy.
Marcy seemed to know it, too, and she
therefore never once looked in his direction.

197/385

“Reno!” Vito said to Reno’s dismay.

“What’s with all the subterfuge? Come
meet me at the hotel, Vito, like I’m some er-
rand boy. Can’t come to my home. Can’t
let me entertain you the way you’re entitled
to be entertained. Instead, you ask me, me,
Vito Giancarlo, to come to some hotel
room. What you thought you were walking
into a trap? Is that what this level of dis-
respect is about?”

“Nothing like that, Vito,” Reno said,

coming from around the bar, a glass of wine
in his hand. “Sal, get the people some
drinks.”

“Do I look like a bartender, Reno?”

“Get the people some drinks,”

Tommy said.

Sal Luca didn’t like it, but he ex-

haled. “What’ll you having, Vito?”

“Campari and soda, what else?”

198/385

“And you, Miss?” he asked Marcy.

Reno immediately looked at her. He hadn’t
heard her voice in over six years.

“This is Marcy, if you don’t know

her,” Vito said. “She and Reno used to fool
around six years ago. Marcy, this is Tommy
and Salvatore Luciano. Reno’s cousins.”

“Nice to meet you,” Marcy said.

Reno was taken by her easy manner, by how
classy she still pretended to be. “I’ll take a
martini,” she said to Sal, “if you have it.”

“If I have it?” Sal asked as he headed

for the bar. “I don’t have any of it. This
ain’t my spot.”

“You gonna answer my question,

Reno?” Vito asked. “What’s behind this
level of disrespect?”

“It’s not disrespect. I just don’t know

what I don’t know right now, so I have to be
careful. Have a seat.”

199/385

“You remember Marcy,” Vito said

casually as he moved to take a seat on the
sofa.

“Hello, Reno,” Marcy said, extending

her hand.

Reno’s heart was pounding for some

reason, and his penis throbbing. He hated
that this woman could still get a sexual reac-
tion out of him. He didn’t shake her hand,
however. “Marcy, hey, how you doing?”

“I’ve seen better days,” she said,

withdrawing her extended hand.

“Yeah? You’ve seen better days?”

“That’s why we’re here, Reno,” Vito

said as he sat down. “Sit down, sugar,” he
said to Marcy.

When Marcy was seated beside Vito,

Tommy took one of the flanking chairs and
Reno the other, and Sal Luca returned with
their drinks. After everyone was served and
Sal was seated on the arm of Tommy’s
chair, Vito looked at Reno.

200/385

“Her boy’s been snatched, Reno,” he

said.

Reno’s eyes immediately flew to

Marcy. “What boy? You got a kid?”

Marcy nodded, as tears appeared in

her eyes. “Yes,” she said with a nod. “And
they took him.”

Reno frowned. “Who took him?”

“We believe Partanna’s people,” Vito

said.

“Partanna?” Reno asked.

“Whoever’s running his organization,

yes,” Vito said.

It made no sense to Reno. “But why

would Partanna’s people want her kid?”

Vito exhaled, as his age and big bulk

always made him prone to do. He looked at
his cocktail. “You and Marcy need to talk
Reno,” he said. “Why don’t you take her in
the bedroom.”

Reno, already angry with himself for

having a sexual reaction to her, jumped

201/385

defensive. “What I look like taking her in
the bedroom? I’m a married man, Vito.
You take her in the bedroom.”

“Fuck you, Reno!” Marcy shouted.

Vito touched her hand, to calm her

back down. “I didn’t think you wanted your
private business broadcast all over the place,
that’s all I was saying.”

“What private business?”

Reno

asked. “You can’t say anything to me that
my cousins can’t hear. I trust these two gen-
tlemen with my life.”

“Tommy, yes, I could trust him with

my life, too. But Sal Luca,” Vito said with a
smile, “not so much.”

“Hey!” Sal objected. “What am I a

piece of wood over here?”

“Why would Frank Partanna’s people

snatch this lady’s son?” Tommy asked Vito,
to get on with it.

Marcy glanced at the freakishly hand-

some Tommy Gabrini, and Reno could see

202/385

her big blues giving him that quick appraisal
she was famous for. Which gave Reno
some pause. Something wasn’t adding up
here, he thought. A woman’s son has been
kidnapped and she’s assessing some good
looking dude? Something was wrong.

“Tell him Marcy,” Vito ordered.

“Just put it on out there.”

“If it wasn’t for my son,” Marcy said,

“I wouldn’t be here, Reno.”

“Fine, you wouldn’t be here,” Reno

said, getting irritated. “You wish I was
dead, you hate my guts, I get it. But what I
don’t get is why the fuck would any of that
matter if your kid’s been snatched?”

It was now Marcy’s time to jump de-

fensive. “What, are you calling me a liar?
You think I would lie about something like
this just to see your ugly mug again?”

Even Sal had to look at Marcy after

that one. Reno could be called a lot of
things, asshole chief among them, but

203/385

nobody in their right mind would call him
ugly. He was usually always the best look-
ing man in any room. Unless Tommy,
whose good looks couldn’t be rivaled, was
in that same room.

“He’s a good kid, my boy,” Marcy

continued. “And I raised him right, and I
raised him alone. I didn’t ask for help from
nobody! He’s a smart, funny, wonderful,
gorgeous little man, and I would never use
him to get next to anybody! Least of all
you!”

Tommy looked at Reno. Surely he

understood.

Reno stared deep into Marcy’s eyes.

Could it be true? Or was she deceiving him
again? “How old is this bundle of perfec-
tion?” Reno asked, attempting to be snide
although his heart was in his throat.

Marcy stared back at him. “Six,” she

said with a twinge of regret in her voice.

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Reno ran his hands through his thick

hair, ruffling it. Tommy closed his eyes and
shook his head. And Sal Luca, who was al-
ways the last to get it, shrugged his
shoulders. “What?” he asked his cousin and
brother. “Why y’all so distressed all of a
sudden? What the fuck’s going on here?”

But nobody answered him. Marcy

looked at Reno. Reno was staring at her.

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TEN

Jeffrey Graham smiled a smile that

could charm a wino, Trina thought, as he
tossed his suitcase in the backseat of Reno’s
Bentley and then sat down in the front seat.

“Damn girl,” he said, looking around

at the wood grain finish, at the Ivory-colored
leather seats, at all of the bells and whistles,
“this is tight.” Then he looked at her, regret
that he’d let her get away filling his eyes.
“You’re living large for real, though.”

Trina smiled. Jeffrey always knew

how to make her smile. “Had a fun trip?”
she asked as she pulled away from the bus
station and back into the thick Vegas
traffic.

“I wouldn’t call it fun,” he said. “My

ass too sore for fun.” She laughed. “But
I’m just so happy to be getting out of Dale,

Mississippi that I would have been fine rid-
ing a donkey to Vegas. And thanks again,
Tree, for letting me stay in your old apart-
ment. And don’t worry, I’ll get out as soon
as I get a couple paychecks and can afford
my own place.”

“You just focus on doing a good job

at work. That apartment was just sitting
there empty anyway.”

“You plan to keep it?”

“Not really, no. I won’t renew the

lease. But there’s still something like four
and a half months left on it, so you’re
straight.”

“Maybe I can just pay the rent and re-

new it in my name?”

“First see if you like it. If you like it,

then that’s okay with me. But it’s paid up
so that’s cool too.”

“So you had it going on like that,

hun? Able to pay your rent for a year at one
time?”

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“Not me. Reno, my husband. He did

it while we were still dating. I didn’t even
know he had. I went to pay it, and that’s
when the landlord told me. Paid for the en-
tire term of the lease. I was so mad at
Reno.”

“Mad?” Jeffrey said, amazed. “Why

would you be mad?”

“Because I didn’t need him to do that

for me. I could handle my own business.
But it was done and the landlord wasn’t giv-
ing it back.” Jeffrey laughed at this. “So I
had to just live with it too. But now, by let-
ting you stay there rather than just letting it
sit there empty, makes sense.”

“You still didn’t have to do this for

me, though. I’m very grateful. Good look-
ing out, Tree.”

“Good looking out my foot. I had

forgot you were even coming.”

“Whaat? For real?”

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“For real. When you called me to-

night and said you were here already, I’m
like that’s right. I totally forgot.”

Jeffrey looked worried. “But you

talked to your husband, right? He’s agreed
to give me a job, right?”

“He had to go out of town,” she said

in truth, “and I didn’t think to even mention
it before he left. But yeah, you’re in, don’t
worry.” Another battle with Reno, she
thought. But a promise was a promise.

Jeffrey smiled again, and motioned as

if he was wiping sweat from his brow.
“Whew!” he said. “Thank-you for reassur-
ing me. I couldn’t take any more rejec-
tion.” He and Trina exchanged a glance.

Then his face turned somber. “I’m

sorry about your mother,” he said. “I heard
she’s still in the hospital.”

“Yeah, she’s still recovering. But

she’s out of any danger, so we’re grateful
for that.”

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“I tried to call you so many times

after it happened, but your phone kept going
to voice mail so I left a couple of messages.
I didn’t know if the job offer was off or
what, and I didn’t care. I just wanted to
make sure you were okay.”

“Thanks, Jeff,” she said. This was

the Jeff she remembered before their dis-
astrous try at romance. This was the Jeff
she missed. “But I’m fine, thank God. I got
out with barely a scratch.”

“I’ll bet your husband was grateful.”

Trina smiled. “And how,” she said.

Jeffrey, however, continued to stare at her.
She glanced at him, and then back at the
dark road ahead of them. “What?” she
asked.

“I was checking out the PaLargio on

the internet, you know. I mean, that place is
like a palace. Everybody’s heard of it, but
until you’ve actually been there you really
don’t know much about it. So I wanted to

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know more about it. That’s when I saw
some articles about the owner. About your
husband.” He hesitated. “I don’t know if I
should say this, especially since I’m kind of
at your mercy right now.”

“You can say whatever you want,”

Trina said with all sincerity. She’d heard it
all from her mother anyway.

“I mean, he seems to have a lot of af-

filiations with the Mafia and people like
that, at least that’s what I read. They say the
FBI recently questioned him about some
man’s death out in California, the man who
may have had a hand in his own father’s
murder, and it was just a lot of different
hints and reputed to be this and reputed to
be that. I mean . . .”

“You mean what, Jeffrey?” Trina

asked as she stopped at a red light and
looked over at him.

“I mean is it true? Is he--”
“A mob boss?”

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Jeffrey nodded, staring at his friend.

“Yeah.”

Trina shook her head. “No.

“Is that a flat no, or a no with

asterisks?”

Trina laughed. “I’m not about to get

you all up in my husband’s business. You
just know that you have a job and, until you
can get on your feet, a place to stay. That’s
all you need to worry your pretty little head
about right now.”

Jeffrey smiled. And then laughed.

“Yes, ma’am,” he said, as Trina laughed too
and blew through the changing light.

***

If there was any doubt in Reno’s mind

before, and there was plenty doubt, watch-
ing that video removed it all. That kid was
as much his as the PaLargio was his, as his
own arms and legs were his. He had a son.

They were still in the hotel room

watching the six year old, the kid Marcy

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said had been snatched; watching him on a
tape Marcy had brought along, on a DVD
player the hotel provided. Although he had
blonde hair like his mother, he had Reno’s
sky-blue eyes, eyes, like his father, that were
the highlight of his face. He was running
around in some big backyard somewhere, in
Schenectady, New York according to
Marcy, and he was a sight for Reno, for
Tommy and Sal Luca, to behold. This kid
was their blood. And all three men, espe-
cially Reno, knew it on sight.

And now he was a pawn in this

deadly game Reno had been forced to play.

“What makes you sure it was

Partanna’s people that snatched him?”
Tommy asked. Reno wasn’t saying any-
thing. He was too busy staring at the kid on
the screen.

“Because Pags approached her a

week or so after Partanna died,” Vito said.

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“Approached you and said what?”

Tommy asked Marcy.

“He said they needed my help.”

“To do what?”

“To get Reno’s attention.” Reno

looked at her when she said this.

“To get his attention for what? To do

what?”

“I don’t know what,” Marcy said.

“To kill him, I guess.”

“What they need you to kill him for?”

Sal Luca asked. “They wanna kill him they
either kill him or put the contract out and get
him killed.

At least they try, the

motherfuckers.”

“I don’t know what they wanted to

do, all right? They said I either do what
they tell me to do, or they would turn my
file over to the Feds. And he kept throwing
hints about my son.”

“Throwing hints?” Reno said. “And

you just let a psycho like Pags walk away

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and you did nothing to protect your son, to
hide him?”

“What was I supposed to do, Reno?”

“Beef up security around your child!

Get him to a safe house! Call me, his father,
gotdammit!” Reno’s sudden explosiveness
caught everybody off guard. They all
looked at him. Except Tommy, who fully
understood. “You should have called me,
Marcy. But nooo, you were still pissed be-
cause I dumped your ass. Still angry be-
cause I didn’t want my woman selling her
body to the highest bidder!”

“I wasn’t selling my body,” Marcy

shot back. “I was helping your father get
compromising information on his enemies.
I was helping your old man!”

“Yeah, you were helping him all

right.” Reno would never forget that day at
Marcy’s apartment for as long as he lived.
Never forget when he came back early from
a business trip and caught his own father

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fucking her. He didn’t even know they
knew each other. When it all came out,
when his father told him that she was one of
his lay people, which meant she’d have sex
with one of their targets and he’d pay her af-
terwards, a kind of mob hooker, Reno
couldn’t believe it. But it was true. She
didn’t deny it.

And Paulo Gabrini, angry that she

would have gotten hooked up with his son
when she knew the deal, wanted her dead.
She, in fact, had to run for her life. Reno
made his father spare her and therefore pull
the contract order, but his anger, his heart
break, kept him from doing anything else.
She actually was one of the few women up
to that point who had stood a chance with
him.

“How did the snatch go down?”

Tommy asked her.

Marcy stopped staring daggers at

Reno and looked at Tommy. “We were just

216/385

getting home. I opened the car door and he
stepped out. Then another car drove up and
two men grabbed him. I fought like a prize-
fighter to stop them, contrary to what you
think, Reno, but they were too strong. I held
onto the car door as they drove off, my en-
tire right side was bruised, until one of them
knocked my hands off of the door handle.”

“Did you recognize any of them?”

Vito asked.

“No. I’ve never seen them before.”

“Let me see the bruises,” Reno said,

staring at her.

She frowned. “What?”

“If you were as bruised as you claim,

the bruising would still be there. Let me see
the bruising.”

‘You still don’t believe me, do you?”
Reno didn’t respond.

Angrily she stood, took off her shirt,

revealing a braless chest, and snatched down
her pants and panties, rendering her virtually

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naked before all four men. And it was true,
she had bruises and marks over her entire
left side. What was also true, Reno noticed
to his shame, was that her body hadn’t
changed one iota since the days when he
used to pound her.

“Aren’t you looking in the wrong

spot, Reno?” she asked with a mischievous
smile. “My pussy didn’t get a scratch.”

“Fuck you!” Reno yelled, stood up,

and walked over to the window. “Put on
your clothes,” he ordered with far less anim-
ation in his voice. How she could joke at a
time like this was a mystery to him. And it
just wasn’t adding up.

She smiled and began putting back

on her clothes. She loved the way he
ordered it, as if he didn’t want the other men
to see what he used to enjoy.

Tommy walked over to the window

and stood next to Reno, both looking out of

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the window, neither seeing anything but the
trouble ahead of them.

“What are you thinking?” he asked

him, his voice too low to be heard beyond
Reno.

“What are you thinking?” Reno threw

back at Tommy.

“It smells like a trap.”
“Yeah, it does. And it doesn’t.”

“That kid’s yours. He looks just like

you.”

“She fucked my old man too,” he felt

a need to explain.

This stunned Tommy. “She what?”

Reno didn’t repeat himself. “But I always
thought Uncle Paulo was kind of hands off
when it came to females.”

“He was hands off all right. He

didn’t keep his hands off of any of them.”

“Aunt Belle knew?”

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“Yeah she knew. Of course she

knew.” Then Reno exhaled. “We were one
fucked up family, okay?”

Tommy’s expression changed. His

look became more concerned, more wor-
ried. “Think we need to bring in the
police?”

“No way. Not until I know what’s

going on.”

Tommy nodded. “Yeah, I agree,” he

said. “But I have a plan.”

Reno’s cell phone began to ring.

When he saw it was Carmine, he answered
it quickly. “What’s up?” he asked him.

“There’s been a hit at Spring Valley,”

Carmine said in a breathless tone and Reno
stood erect.

“What?” Reno asked in such a voice

that he immediately got Tommy’s attention.

“They tried to overpower security.”

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“Is Ma and the girls all right?” he

asked. Vito and Marcy looked, Sal Luca
hurried over. “Is everybody okay?”

“Ma and the girls are okay. Dirty’s

okay. He says they were able to drop two
of ours. We didn’t hit any of their
people.”

“What about Katrina?

Where’s

Katrina?”

“She’s working, she’s with Amos.”

“Go to her now. You get to her and

you blanket her, you hear me, Carmine?”

“I hear you, Reno.”
“I mean now.”

“I’m on my way there now. Right

now. I’m getting on the elevator now.”

Reno closed his eyes, sat his cell

phone against his forehead, and then put it
back to his ear. “And get more security over
at Spring Valley, I’m talking an army if ne-
cessary, and get Ma and the girls and Dirty
out of there. Get them to the PaLargio.”

221/385

“I already made the order.”

“Good. Good work, Carmine. Dirty

say who did it?”

“Partanna’s people, who else?”

Carmine said.

“But did Dirty see any indication that

a hit was coming, any familiar faces?”

“No, Reno, nothing like that. They

don’t leave calling cards.”

“Just do what I told you to do,” Reno

ordered. “Call me back as soon as you se-
cure Trina.”

He killed the call.

“What’s happened, Reno?” Sal Luca

asked.

“They hit Pop’s compound in Spring

Valley.”

“Is Belle okay?” Vito asked. “Every-

body okay?”

“Everybody’s okay. We lost a couple

of guards. They got away clean.”

222/385

“What are we gonna do now?” Sal

asked.

Reno ran his hand across his eyes.

Sal was astounded at how drained he
looked. “I’m not handling any business
here, on their turf. I got to get to mine. We
all get back to Vegas.” He looked at
Marcy. Then exhaled. “Marcy, come with
me. Tommy, tell security to get the plane
ready.”

“Sure, Reno,” Tommy said as he and

the rest of the room watched Reno take
Marcy into the bedroom.

Marcy’s heart was so elated that she

had to contain herself. He’d seen her naked
and wanted more, simple as that as far as
she was concerned.

“Strip,” Reno said to her as soon as

they entered the bedroom and closed the
door.

She was so excited, she almost just

did it. Then she realized how awful that

223/385

would look. “Strip?” she said. “Why
should I strip?”

“I don’t have time, Marce, not now.

Strip.”

She realized he meant business and

immediately

did

as

he

commanded.

“Everything?” she asked as she got down to
her panties.

“Everything,” Reno said, watching

her, angry with his penis for betraying him.
Marcy was a good lay, she was always good
for that, but this wasn’t what this was about.

After laying her long, lithe, naked

body across the bed, Reno got to work. He
began running his hand through her hair,
and then down underneath her arms, lifted
her big breasts, and moved down to her wo-
manhood. Marcy was beginning to suspect
that this was more an inspection than a sex
move on Reno’s part, until his fingers slid
into her vagina and begin feeling her there.
Then she moaned as she noticed his stiff

224/385

erection and remembered how it used to be.
She wanted him inside of her desperately
and wanted for him to undress too.

But Reno wasn’t about to undress.

He wanted to fuck all right, he couldn’t
deny his erection, but not her. He wanted to
be inside Trina. But since he couldn’t have
her, he began massaging Marcy, not for the
thrill of it, although it was turning him on,
but because he knew every trick in the
book.

He turned her over, onto her stomach,

and Marcy was convinced he was going to
enter her now, and enter her up the ass the
way she liked it. Only it was his fingers and
not his penis that was up inside of her, as
Reno expertly checked her better than any
prison guard could.

When he pulled out, he removed her

shoes and checked them inside out, too.
Nothing. Then he headed for the adjacent
bathroom.

225/385

Marcy, realizing she’d been had,

turned onto her side. “What was that about,
Reno?” she demanded to know.

“Get dressed,” he ordered as he

washed his hands with soap and water.
“You’re going to Vegas with us.” He
grabbed a hotel towel and began drying
those hands. “I had to make sure you wer-
en’t packing.”

Although she was angry at the way

he had just treated her, she was also elated
that he was taking her with him. He was do-
ing exactly what Pags said he’d do. But she
had her role to play. “What about my boy?”
she asked as she stood and began dressing,
trying her best to look worried. “What
about Nicky?”

Reno stared at her. He couldn’t dis-

miss her outright because she could be
telling the truth. You never could tell with
Marcy. He therefore walked up to her,
placed his hands on either side of her arm.

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Her heart pounded when he touched her.
“We’ll find him,” he said, looking her dead
in the eyes. “I promise you we’ll get him
back to you.”

She was about to thank him for help-

ing her, but his cell phone began ringing.
When he moved away to answer, Marcy
exhaled.

Double-crossing Reno Gabrini

wasn’t going to be as easy as she had
thought. Especially if he decided to strip
her again, for more sensual reasons.

“This is Reno,” Reno said into his

cell phone.

“She ain’t here, Reno,” Carmine said

on the phone.

Reno’s heart dropped. “What do you

mean she’s not there?”

“She’s not here. When I left her earli-

er she was here working with Amos. Now
he says she left.”

“Left? Left to go where, Carmine?”

227/385

“She told Amos she was going to

pick up a friend from the bus station.”

Reno frowned. “What friend? What

gotdamn bus station? Hold on!” Reno im-
mediately placed Carmine on hold and
called Trina’s cell phone.

“He can’t find your wife?” Marcy

asked.

Reno grabbed a barely clothed Marcy

by the arm and moved with her back into the
living room. His heart was pounding as
Trina’s phone began to ring.

***

Back in Vegas, Trina began searching in

her shoulder bag for her ringing cell phone.
She was seated on the sofa of her old apart-
ment, seated with Jeffrey Graham, taking
shots of gin-and-bitters, and laughing about
their escapades in the good old days. It was
one ring away from going to voice mail
when she pulled it out and clicked it on.

“Hello?” she said.

228/385

Reno breathe again. “Where are

you?”

“Reno?”
“Yes, it’s me. Where are you?”
“What is it? What’s wrong?”

“Don’t answer my question with a

question, Tree. Where the fuck are you?”

“What are you yelling at me for? I’m

at my apartment.”

Reno frowned. “In the PaLargio?”
“My old apartment.”

“What’s the address?” After she

gave it to him, asking why as she did, he
clicked her on hold, gave Carmine the ad-
dress and ordered him to take an army over
there and get her, and then came back onto
the line. “Lock the door, Tree, is the door
locked?”

“Yes, it’s locked. Why? What’s

happened?”

“Who’s there with you?”

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“A friend of mine. What’s going on,

Reno?”

“There was a hit on my family in

Spring Valley.”

“Lord no! Are they all right?”

“Everybody’s okay, a couple guards

were hit, but I’m not taking any chances.
Carmine’s on his way. You don’t open that
door for anybody but him, you understand
me?”

“Yes, Reno,” Trina said, her heart be-

ginning to pound.

“I will fucking kick your ass, Tree, if

you open that door for anybody but him!”

Trina could just feel his anguish. “I

got it, Reno. Please stop worrying. I
understand.”

“Who’s this friend you had to pick up

from some bus station? Jazz?”

“Jeffrey,” Trina said. “From Dale.”

Reno didn’t like the fact that she was

entertaining some man in her old apartment,

230/385

but he was relieved that it was a man. “Is he
a good friend?”

“Yes,” Trina said. “We’ve known

each other since childhood.”

“You trust him?”

As a friend, yes. As a lover, no.

“Yes,” she said.

“Put him on the phone.”
“Reno--”
“Put him on the phone.”
Trina rolled her eyes, then handed her

cell phone to Jeffrey.

“What’s this?”

“My husband,” Trina said. “He

wants to talk to you.”

Jeffrey’s heart began to hammer.

This man was no ordinary husband and he
knew it. He was possibly about to talk to a
mob boss. He took the phone. “Hello?”

“This is Dominic Gabrini. You’re

Jeffrey?”

“That’s right.”

231/385

“You’re a friend of my wife’s?”

Jeffrey hesitated. What was this

about, he wondered. “Yes,” he said. “We
go back a long way.”

“Good because I need you to do me a

favor.”

“A favor? Sure, Mr. Gabrini.”

“Keep an eye on her. Some not so

nice people may be gunning for her. I need
you to make sure she stays put, away from
windows, until my people get there. Can
you do me that favor?”

“Absolutely, sir,” Jeffrey said, stand-

ing to his feet. “Nobody’s getting in here.”

“You’re packing?”
Jeffrey hated to admit it. “Yes, sir.”

“Good,” Reno said, although he was

concerned again that his wife was entertain-
ing some man who had to carry a weapon
around with him. “Keep it handy. She’s to
open that door for nobody except Carmine
Rossi. Got that?”

232/385

“I’ve got it.”

“I’ll remember this, all right? Put

Trina back on the phone.”

“Yes, sir,” Jeffrey said, handing the

phone to Trina.

“Are you on your way back?” Trina

asked him as she watched Jeffrey hurry to
the bedroom.

“Yeah, I’m going to head on back.”

Then he let out an exhausted exhale. “Talk
to me until Carmine gets there,” he said.

And she did. She talked with Reno

and talked with Reno. She watched Jeffrey
come back into the living room with a gun,
she watched as he peeped out of the win-
dow, as he made sure every window and
door was secure, as he walked around the
apartment as if he was her bodyguard. She
talked as Reno made other phone calls with
other cell phones, as he barked out orders to
check again on the plane.

233/385

He even made her talk with him after

Carmine and his men arrived and they
ushered her out of the apartment, down the
stairs, and into the waiting limousine. One
of Carmine’s men jumped into Reno’s Bent-
ley and cranked up. Trina was just sliding
into the limo when she heard the explosion.
She looked up and saw her husband’s car in
flames, saw the bodyguard get thrown to the
ground. Dead.

“Tree!” Reno yelled on the other end,

his heart hammering.

“It’s your car,” Trina said into the

phone, still staring at the explosion.

Carmine pushed Trina further into the

limo and jumped in behind her. “Go!” he
ordered the driver. “Go now!”

The limo driver took off, driving in a

swerve away from Trina’s old home. She
looked back and could see her former neigh-
bors staring in disbelief. She could see Jef-
frey looking out of the window of her

234/385

apartment, amazed by the scene downstairs,
undoubtedly wondering what in the world
had he gotten himself mixed up with. And
she looked back at what was once Reno’s
very expensive car, as another door flew
from its’ burning frame. And she was won-
dering the exact same thing.

235/385

ELEVEN

It was nearly three am when they arrived

at the PaLargio. Reno and Marcy headed up
to the penthouse, but Tommy, with Sal Luca
in tow, wanted to check out security around
the hotel. The beefed up security wasn’t ob-
vious to the untrained eye, but to Tommy’s
considerable trained eye, it still appeared
substandard.

Although Marcy stepped off of the

elevator on the top floor ahead of him, Reno
left her far behind as he entered his pent-
house, calling for Trina.

“She’s in bad shape, Reno,” Carmine

said as soon as he entered.

“Where is she?”

“On the balcony,” Carmine said and

Reno didn’t wait for him to say more.
Normally he would be concerned with her

out anywhere during these uncertain times,
but the penthouse balcony was up so high
and had extra security. It was safe enough.

Reno’s heart hammered against his

chest when he saw Trina seated in a lounger
on that balcony, a drink in her hand. She
wore a pair of shorts and a light pink hoodie,
and had one of those shapely smooth brown
legs of hers bent up, and the other one
straight down. She also wore dark shades.
Undoubtedly, Reno thought, to conceal the
fact that she’d been crying.

Reno put both hands in his pant pock-

ets and walked to the railing first, where a
sweeping view of the Vegas skyline seemed
within his reach. This used to be his dream,
living on top of the world. Now all he
wanted was for the violence to end, and for
all of his loved ones, all of his responsibilit-
ies, to be safe.

He moved over to the lounger and sat

on its edge. He looked at her drink, a Gin-

237/385

and-tonic knowing Trina as he did, and then
into her face.

“Eventful night, hun?” he said, at-

tempting to smile, attempting to shield his
hammering heart.

But Trina would not cooperate. She

just sat there, staring forward, her entire
body like a steel rod of stiffness.

“It’ll get better, Tree--”

“I can’t do it, Reno,” she said in a

tone that discouraged debate. “I thought I
could, I thought loving you would be
enough and I could handle anything. But I
can’t. I can’t handle this.” She rubbed her
brow as a frown appeared on her forehead.
“I saw a man die tonight, a man who got in-
to a car I was supposed to get into. I saw a
man die and it should have been me--”

“Oh, Tree,” Reno said, reaching for

her arm, but she snatched away from him.

“I can’t do this!” she yelled, to make

herself clear. “When it happened in Dale it

238/385

was different. I passed out, Mama passed
out, we didn’t know what hit us. And then I
thought okay, they gave it their best shot
and I’m still here, Mama’s still here, I’ll be
okay.” She looked at Reno, her dark shades
revealing nothing, her voice, her tense body,
revealing everything. “But I won’t, Reno.
These people are like animals, they don’t
stop coming at you, they don’t--”

“Tree, look at me,” Reno said, mov-

ing closer to her.

“It’s like nothing matters to them--”

“Tree, look at me,” he said again, re-

moving her shades. He was right. She had
been crying. “It’s not going to be like this
always, you hear me? Once we take them
out--”

“Then they’ll try to take you out

again--”

“No, they won’t. That’s not how it

works. Once we get rid of the new power

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structure in Partanna’s organization, that’ll
be the end of that organization.”

“Until you find out there’s a third

layer to this craziness and it’ll start all over
again.”

“No, Tree.”

“Yes, Reno. Yes! That’s how it

works and you know it.”

“I don’t know shit! All I know is

those fuckers will pay for what they did,
they’ll pay for what they tried to do. And
that’ll be the end of it, Tree, you have to be-
lieve me. Yeah, Partanna was a little deeper
than we thought. Yes, I made a mistake.
But I won’t again, I promise you I won’t
again.”

Trina shook her head and looked for-

ward, shook her head. “I can’t do it, Reno,”
she said. “I can’t live like this.”

Reno moved closer still, his arm on

her bare legs. “I know it’s an awful situ-
ation right now. I know you feel like you’re

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in prison right now. But once we get a
handle on this--”

“You’re never get a handle on this!”

Trina said, looking angrily at him. “Don’t
you understand that? These people seemed
to live for this shit. They kill one of yours,
you kill one of theirs, and it’s like a game!”

“It’s not a game.”

“But it’s like a game, Reno. There

are winners and losers. I’m terrified that
one night you’re going to be the one to lose,
and I don’t think I can deal with that if it
happens.”

“It won’t happen. Listen to me, Tree,

it won’t happen. Once we get a handle on
this--”

“Reno,” Marcy’s voice was heard

and both an angry Reno and a curious Trina
turned to the sound.

When Reno realized Marcy had come

out onto his balcony, he roared. “What the
fuck you want?” he asked her.

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Trina looked at Reno, amazed by his

rudeness.

Marcy wasn’t amazed, but she be-

came equally nasty. “I want to know what
you’re going to do about our son,” she said,
staring at Trina to see her reaction more than
Reno, “that’s what the fuck I want!”

Reno could not believe she had just

blurted that out, and was ready to pounce,
but Trina, instead, spoke up.

“Who is that?” she asked Reno.

Reno almost wanted to fling himself

from that balcony. It seemed as if every bad
decision he’d ever made in his life was all
coming to a head right here and right now,
at the worst possible time. “Tree, we need
to talk,” he said.

“Hello,” Trina said, looking around

him and staring at Marcy, causing Marcy to
walk slowly toward Reno and his new
bride.

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At first Marcy wasn’t impressed.

Was pleasantly surprised, in fact, by Trina’s
lack of impressiveness. Because from a dis-
tance Trina looked okay, looked cute, kind
of sexy, but nowhere near in the same
league as Marcy’s own beauty.

But up close told a different tale.

Marcy quickly changed her opinion when
she came closer and saw Trina’s bright
hazel eyes staring out in a perfect contrast to
her smooth, elegant dark skin. When she
saw her full lips and her buttonish, African
nose. When she saw that she was big where
a woman should be big, and small where a
woman should be small. Marcy had the
body of a supermodel, but it wasn’t a curva-
ceous body. This wife of Reno’s, this black
woman, had the kind of curves she always
suspected Reno preferred. And Marcy’s
heart grew faint. Pags only told her that she
was black. He never mentioned her dazzle.

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“Hi,” Marcy said when she reached

Trina and Reno. She almost smiled as she
often did when she greeted someone, but
that would have been disastrous. What
mother smiles when their child is sup-
posedly kidnapped?

“Who is she?” Trina asked Reno

again.

“Marcy Davenport,” Reno said re-

luctantly. “She’s going to stay at the PaLar-
gio for a few days. Marcy, this is my wife,
Katrina Gabrini.”

Marcy nearly choked when Reno

rubbed it in. Katrina Gabrini. As if he
wanted to make clear to her that she had
what she once wanted. “Nice to meet you,
Katrina. I’m sure Reno’s very lucky to have
you.”

“You mentioned a son,” Trina said,

long past niceties.

“That’s right.”

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“We used to hang out, Tree,” Reno

tried to explain, but Trina was staring at
Marcy.

“We used to know each other,”

Marcy said. She wanted to add intimately
but didn’t. Because she also knew that if
she came on too strong with that we have
history boasting, she’d lose her. And if she
lost the wife, she just might lose Reno’s
help. Pags made it clear. Either Reno’s
head ended up on that platter, or her son’s
would. Truth was, and even Vito Giancarlo
didn’t know this, but she’d gotten her son
safely out of the country as soon as Pags
reentered her life insisting she get back in
the game, so she was certain he was safe and
that his life wasn’t in danger.

But Pags also had the goods on her

because, after Reno and his old man dumped
her, she turned to Partanna. And Partanna
didn’t just want her to sleep with men the
way Reno’s father had her doing. He

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wanted her to maim or even kill a few while
she was at it. Which meant she was in
trouble. Which meant she knew nothing
about their crimes and misdemeanors, but
they knew everything about hers.

She had to deliver Reno.

“They have my son,” she decided to

blurt out.

Reno looked angrily at her again, and

was ready to rebuke her again, but Trina
wasn’t trying to let him.

“Your son?” she asked, staring at

Marcy.

“They kidnapped him. He’s only six

years old.”

Trina looked at Reno. “Kidnapped?”

she asked, her already wary face growing
even more faint.

“Will you excuse us for a minute,

Marce?” he asked in a tone that was expect-
ing only one answer. Marcy wanted to
smile. She knew dissension when she saw

246/385

it, which was perfect for her. That woman,
who probably never knew the gangster life,
was ready to dump his ass.

“Sure,” she said, “but we need to

have a game plan, Reno.”

Reno frowned. “You don’t tell me

what we need to have. I know what we
need to have. And where the fuck is
Carmine! I told him to keep an eye on you.”

“I’m right here,” Carmine said, step-

ping out onto the balcony. “She said she
needed to discuss that situation with you.”

“Get her out of here,” Reno said,

angry that Carmine allowed Marcy to dictate
to him. “I’m talking here.”

“Come on, let’s go,” Carmine said as

he grabbed Marcy by the arm and escorted
her off of the balcony.

Trina looked at him. “You have a

child?” she asked.

Reno nodded. “I think so, yeah. I

just found out myself, Tree.”

247/385

“And she’s the mother?”
Reno nodded. “Yeah.

“And this child of yours has been

kidnapped? Kidnapped, Reno?”

Reno knew it sounded awful. And it

was. “Yes,” was all he could say.

“Partanna’s people again?”
Reno nodded. “We think so, yes.”

Trina shook her head and began to

rise. Reno rose too, his heart pounding.

“You need to do all you can for your

son, do all you can. But I can’t. . .” She
moved to leave, but Reno blocked her.

“Tree, listen to me.”

She scuffled with him, trying to get

away, and she succeeded, moving out of his
grasp, hurrying off of the balcony, and head-
ing straight for the bedroom. Reno hurried
behind her, astounding Carmine and Marcy
both, who were in the living room waiting
for him. But he was calling after his wife,

248/385

calling after her like some pecked hen.
Carmine especially was astounded.

Trina grabbed a carrying bag from

the closet as soon as she entered the bed-
room and began to take underwear from a
drawer and toss them in the bag.

“Tree, listen to me,” Reno said as he

entered. He knew any self-respecting, smart
woman would leave him, and Tree was
nothing but respectable and smart. But he
wasn’t appealing to her head, but to her
heart. “Tree, please listen to me.”

She threw a garment in her bag and

looked at him. “I can’t do it, Reno, don’t
you understand? I can’t!” Tears appeared
in her eyes.

Reno’s heart dropped when he saw

her tears. And he grabbed her and wrapped
her in his arms. How could she want a man
like him? “Partanna’s people are trying to
fuck with me, Tree, that’s all this is about,”
he said pleadingly. “They don’t want no

249/385

kid, they ain’t gonna hurt no kid. They just
playing with my mind, they aren’t going to
hurt a kid. Don’t worry about that. That’s
handled, that’s taken care of.”

Trina shook her head again, and her

big, bright eyes took on a staring, shocked
look. “It just blew up, Reno,” she said.

Reno stared at her.

“It was so loud. I can still hear it. I

turned around and it just blew up. And it
could have been me, Reno. I could have
gotten behind that wheel like I was sup-
posed to get behind that wheel and it would
have been me. But one of your security
people decided to drive the car. Carmine
wouldn’t let me drive. But one of your se-
curity people. . . that poor man!”

She sobbed in Reno’s arms. He

knew it was all his fault, he knew his de-
cision to marry her and bring her into his
world put her at risk. Now it was more than
a mere risk. They were targeting her. But

250/385

not in the traditional way. They didn’t just
want to shoot her down. They wanted to
knock her out, to make it clear to Reno that
this wasn’t going to be as simple as it was
when they gunned down his father and
brother. He was going to suffer long and
hard for what he did to Frank Partanna,
which meant Tommy was probably right
and the leader of Partanna’s underworld was
Partanna’s son, was somebody kin to that
bovine bastard.

“It was so loud Reno,” Trina kept go-

ing. “It wasn’t like it was in Dale. All I re-
member in Dale was putting the cat out of
the backdoor and then I was in the hospital.
But this time I saw it, Reno. I saw it with
my own two eyes. And that man--”

“Tree, it’s all right,” Reno said, hold-

ing her tighter, rubbing her hair and fighting
back his own tears. “It’s going to be all
right.” He pulled her back, placed his hands
on either side of her face, his heart pained to

251/385

see her in such distress. “Look at me,” he
insisted. “Tree, look at me.”

When she did, when her big bright

eyes were able to focus again and they
looked up at him, he felt like the most
selfish man alive. “I know you want to
leave,” he said, “and you have every right
to leave. I understand what you’re saying, I
do, Tree.”

He had to swallow hard before he

could continue. “But you can’t leave,” he
said, tears now appearing in his eyes. “It’s
not safe. I’m sorry, but it’s not, and I can’t
let you go anywhere right now. After this is
over and you still . . . want to leave me, then
okay, you have that right to leave. But not
now, not until this is done.”

His eyes glazed over and Trina saw

nothing but anguish. “It’s my fault, Tree. I
should have never brought you into my
world. When you came for that job inter-
view after our one night stand, I should have

252/385

told you no, you can’t work here, and
walked away. And when you left me the
last time, after this mess with Partanna first
started, I should have let you go. But I love
you so much, Tree,” he said and Trina
leaned her forehead against his, tears now in
both of their eyes.

“I’m sorry,” Reno ultimately said.

Trina closed her eyes. “It’s not your

fault,” she said. “Maybe that’s why it’s hit-
ting me so hard right now. Because it’s my
fault. You told me not to go anywhere.
You ordered me not to go. You said you’d
kick my ass if I went.”

They both tried to smile. They both

failed.

“But I went anyway,” she continued.

“I didn’t listen to you. I thought you were
being overprotective, just being your regular
domineering self. So I went. I didn’t think
anything else was going to happen to me. I
thought after Dale. . . I thought. . . Now my

253/385

actions, my actions, not yours, caused that
man, that bodyguard, to lose his life--”

Reno pulled her against him again,

her face resting on his broad chest. He
didn’t have any more words to say. And for
a good few moments he didn’t try to say
anything. He just allowed her to cry, to
stand in the bedroom of their palatial pent-
house, the floor to ceiling curtain-less win-
dows revealing a startlingly gorgeous back-
drop of Vegas at night, and cry her eyes
out. And he truly didn’t know how to reas-
sure his own wife. He didn’t know what to
say, he didn’t know how to act. For the first
time in his life Reno Gabrini, the man
known as the iron man, was lost.

Then he heard Carmine’s voice.

“Reno,” Carmine said and he pulled from
Trina, wiping tears from his eyes with his
back still to his brother-in-law.

“What is it?”

254/385

“Pags is on the phone.” Reno

quickly turned around. “He wants to talk to
you.”

Tears or no tears, Reno flew out of

the bedroom, with Trina, wiping her own
tears, hurrying behind him.

“He wants you,” Marcy said as soon

as she saw him, trying her best to look terri-
fied. “He wants to talk to you.”

Reno grabbed the cell phone that was

in her hand and put it to his ear. “This is
Reno,” he said.

“Hello, Dominic,” Pags said on the

phone.

“What the hell is this about, Pags?”
“Same old Reno. Impatient.”

“Yeah, I’m impatient. Especially

when I’m dealing with a dead fucker.”

“Yeah, that was ingenious, wasn’t it?

Frank used to sit back and laugh at you and
your old man and Vito Giancarlo and all of

255/385

you stupid assholes who actually thought he
was stupid. But who’s laughing now?”

“Frank ain’t,” Reno said. “But what

you want? Where’s the kid?”

“Why are you calling him that,

Dominic? He’s your kid, your son. Don’t
you forget that.”

“Where is he?”

“We’ll be in touch. We just needed

to make sure you were fully onboard here.”

“On board for what?”

“Patience, Dominic. You always

lacked patience. We’ll be in touch. And
please don’t be so foolish as to try and trace
our calls. You aren’t dealing with ama-
teurs. Besides, we’re too smart for your
dumbass, Reno.” Then he laughed, and
killed the call.

Reno stared at the cell phone, saw

that it was an unknown name, unknown
number. He handed it to Carmine.

“What did he say?” Marcy asked.

256/385

“He’ll be in touch,” Reno said.

“Where’s Nicky? Did he say if

Nicky was all right?”

“He said they’ll be in touch, that’s all

he said. We’ll just have to sit tight and
wait.”

Then he went over to Trina, grabbed

her by the hands. He expected more grilling
from her, more wariness. But, to his shock,
she was more concerned about the fact that
the boy had been kidnapped than by the fact
that the boy was his. “When did they take
him?” she asked Marcy.

“Yesterday,” she said. “They said I

was to hook up with Reno, that they won’t
tell me anything until I hook up with Reno.
Then they’ll be in touch.”

“They know it’s his son?”
She nodded. “They know.”

Trina looked at Reno. “That’s why

you went to Jersey? To get with her?”

257/385

“To, no, Tree, I didn’t know either. I

had no idea I had a son. She just laid this on
me.”

Trina found his need to say that odd.

“I already worked that much out, Reno,” she
said.

“Oh, yeah?”

“Come on, Reno. If you knew you

had a child in this world he would be right
here under lock and key at the PaLargio, just
like I am. I’m your responsibility, as you’re
always reminding me, and he would be too.
That’s just you, Reno.” She frowned. “Of
course you didn’t know.”

Reno smiled, proud of her. He

should never underestimate this woman.
Never. He put an arm around her.

“Is this the first time they’ve been in

touch?” Trina asked, looking from Reno to
Marcy.

“Yes,” Marcy said. “The first time.”

258/385

Trina nodded. What a beautiful wo-

man, she thought, the kind of trophy girl-
friend any man would want by his side even
if he couldn’t stand her. But he’d love to
show her off. This woman and Reno
matched, Trina also saw. She could see how
they once hooked up. She was even willing
to bet that people often looked at them and
declared them the perfect couple. She also
knew that those same people would look at
her with Reno and declare them the odd
couple.

Then she inwardly smiled, thinking

how Reno would respond to such people. “I
got your odd couple right over here,” he’d
say angrily. “Right between the balls.”

And just thinking about that, about

the man himself, and how he always found
ways to make her laugh, to make her feel
like the most important woman in the world
to him, made it clear to her how leaving

259/385

Reno and this maddening world of his
would never be as simple as walking away.

260/385

TWELVE

After Carmine went to pour drinks, and

Reno went downstairs to talk with Dirty
about the hit at the Spring Valley compound
and to eyeball his mother and sisters, Trina
and Marcy sat on the sofa and talked. Reno
knew it was risky, leaving the two of them
together, but he figured Marcy would be too
worried about her son to lie on him, or pre-
tend they were still an item, anything like
that.

He was wrong.

“So you married the great Reno Gab-

rini,” Marcy said to Trina, her legs crossed,
her big blue eyes almost devoid of emotion.

“Reno doesn’t seem to think they’ll

harm your son,” Trina said instead, not
about to let this woman get all up in her
marriage to Reno.

“You mean our son, don’t you?”

Marcy corrected her. When Trina didn’t re-
spond, wasn’t playing her game, she kept
trying. “I don’t know what they’ll do,” she
said. “These gangsters can be very unpre-
dictable. But I have total faith in Reno. He
knows what he’s doing. He’s considered a
very good catch, you know,” Marcy contin-
ued, surprising Trina with her unwillingness
to discuss the weightier matters. It could be
a defense mechanism. Trina could only
imagine how a mother would feel knowing
that her child had been kidnapped; knowing
that her baby was in harm’s way. But
Marcy’s almost lackadaisical reaction still
disarmed her.

“Everybody assumed we were going

to get married,” Marcy went on as Carmine,
who was ordered to keep Trina and Marcy
in his sight, handed them their drinks.
“Didn’t they, Carmine?”

262/385

Marcy assumed he would be in her

corner. She never took Carmine as the kind
of Italian that was particularly partial to
blacks.

But Carmine looked at her with a

frown on his face. What she didn’t know
was that he knew the whole story, from her
sleeping with Paulo Gabrini’s enemies for a
fee, to her sleeping with Paulo himself, and,
ultimately, sleeping with Reno. It was sor-
did and it was despicable to him. “Didn’t
they what?” he asked her.

She hesitated, seeing that look of dis-

gust on Carmine’s face. “Didn’t everybody
think Reno and I would be married?”

“How should I know what everybody

thought? All I know is that Reno found him
a good, honest, trustworthy woman and he
loves her and married her. That’s all I
know. Besides, who the fuck cares? Your
child is missing, at least that’s what you’re
claiming. How can you sit up here talking

263/385

about some love affair you may or may not
have had with Reno at a time like this?”

Trina almost smiled. And Marcy

caught herself. She had messed up again.
“You talk like you don’t believe me,” she
said, deciding to jump defensive. “You talk
like I’d use my own son to what, Carmine?
Tell me what are you insinuating I’d use my
own son for? This my boy we’re talking
about! They took him and I have the scars to
prove it. Ask Reno. He saw the scars.”

“He saw’em?” Carmine asked with

disbelief in his voice. “Where they at? I
don’t see no scars.”

“I would have to be naked to show

them to you,” she said with relish. “And
that ain’t happening in your lifetime.”

Carmine glanced at Trina. Trina

looked into her gin and bitters and began to
slosh around the angostura. This woman
was trying to make her jealous at a time like
this, she thought. What kind of mother was

264/385

she? Or was Carmine right after all and she
was using her own son? But why? Why
would she do it? To get back with Reno?
Did she want Reno back? Trina couldn’t
imagine any of his girlfriends not wanting
him back. Especially the way he handled
his business in bed.

Or was she working with Partanna’s

people?

She didn’t know, but what she did

know was that she didn’t trust this woman.
Didn’t trust a word that was coming out of
her mouth.

Marcy was surprised by Trina’s

calm. Here was a woman sobbing on
Reno’s shoulder like some lost kid before
she realized they had company, and now she
was Miss Cool. It unnerved Marcy, if truth
be told. Not only was she great looking and
curvaceous, but she had brains too,
something sorely lacking in most of the wo-
men she’d heard Reno hooked up with after

265/385

her. She had to keep her eyes on this one,
she thought. This one might just have
Reno’s back.

To Trina’s relief, Reno didn’t stay

away long. But when he returned, he re-
turned with two other men. The cousins,
she suspected. One was tall, slender, and el-
egant, a man who was actually better look-
ing than Reno, something she had thought
wasn’t possible. But he was just that gor-
geous. He, in fact, was a man with such a
suave appearance that Trina found herself a
little taken aback by his beauty too. The
other guy, the younger one, had that bull
dog, low, compact, scruffy look. If the eleg-
ant one looked like a modern day Cary
Grant, the shorter one looked more like
James Cagney.

“Tree, I want you to meet my cous-

ins, Tommy and Sal Luca,” Reno said as he
hurried toward the bar. “Tommy and Sal,
that’s my wife.”

266/385

“How you doing?” Sal asked, keep-

ing his distance. The idea that Reno would
marry some black chick with all of these
Italian girls around this town just didn’t sit
right with him. What she’s got that an Itali-
an girl didn’t have, he wanted to know.
Nothing, from the looks of her, he thought.

His big brother Tommy, however,

held a different view. As soon as he walked
up to Trina to shake her extended hand he
got it, he understood without reservation
what Reno was so excited about. Reno had
talked to him about this woman as if she
was the cure for cancer; as if she was the an-
swer to any man’s dreams. She wasn’t, of
course, just looking at her. Tommy could
point out women just as beautiful any day of
the week. Even Marcy there.

But they wouldn’t have her style.

They wouldn’t have her grace.

They

wouldn’t know how to smile that bright
white smile that not only seduced men with

267/385

her mouth but caused her hazel eyes to sing
with sensuality. And it wasn’t forced
either. He knew forced when he saw it. But
she was just being herself, and it was that
self of hers that was the draw. Her nice fig-
ure, Tommy also noticed as he glanced
down, didn’t hurt either.

“Nice to meet you,” he said as he

took her hand and kissed it. “Reno has un-
derstated your beauty,” he added.

Trina smiled. “Oh, you’re smooth,”

she said, eliciting a grin from Tommy.
“You could give Reno a run for his money.”

“Don’t get fresh with my cousin,”

Reno yelled jokingly from behind the bar.
“He’ll break your heart in the end.”

“Him? A heart breaker? I don’t be-

lieve it. Not this gorgeous hunk of human
being!”

“I know that’s right!” Marcy said,

laughing and giving Trina a high-five. Reno
and Tommy exchanged glances. And as

268/385

Marcy continued laughing and telling Trina
about men and what made a good looking
one, Tommy made his way over to his
cousin.

“You buying it?” he asked Reno in a

voice low enough for only Reno to hear.

“Her kidnapping story?” Reno

asked. “Hell nall. Marcy is a lot of things,
but she wouldn’t be high-fiving and joking
around if her kid was somewhere in danger.
That ain’t Marcy.”

Tommy looked at her. “My people

are telling me that she was a button for
Partanna after your old man kicked her to
the curb, that she was one of his best black
widows. I’m wondering if that’s why she’s
here, to try and get you in her web and take
you out.”

“I know. I’m wondering the same

thing. That’s why I took her in that back
room before we left Jersey.”

269/385

Tommy looked at Reno. “I thought

you took her back there to fuck her.”

“Yeah, that’s what she was thinking

too. And I let her think it too. I laid her out
on that bad and scanned every inch of her,
had my fingers up her ass and her pussy, to
make sure she wasn’t packing a damn
thing. She’s not packing a damn thing. So
I’m safe for now. Besides, they wouldn’t
make it as easy as that or they would have
put her in the shadows.” Then Reno
frowned “But it is worrisome,” he admitted.

“It’s nothing like Partanna’s style,”

Tommy said. “I have a couple of guys
working for me who used to be FBI. They
say this is so unlike Frank Partanna. All of
these hits off target. Your wife, your mother
and sisters. It’s not like him. Partanna al-
ways went for the target, with collateral
damage secondary.

This new boss in

Partanna’s organization goes for the collat-
eral damage instead. It’s crazy.”

270/385

“That’s apparently the point. But I

don’t know, Tommy. I feel as if we’re play-
ing checkers and they’re playing chess, that
they’re so far ahead of us that it ain’t even
funny. And I don’t know what to believe at
this point. But until I get it confirmed that
that kid is safe, we have to see this through.”

“You certain it’s your kid?”
“Mine or my old man’s, which, given

that my old man is dead and gone, amounts
to the same thing. So yeah,” Reno said with
more than a little uneasiness, “I believe the
kid is mine.”

Tommy exhaled. “What do you want

me to do?”

Reno looked at his cousin. “We may

have to bring him in.”

“Here to Vegas?”
“Yeah.”
“That could be very risky, Reno.”

271/385

“You’re doubting it now? You’re

doubting that this Paul Brown character
could be the mastermind?”

“No,” Tommy assured him. “I be-

lieve it even more based on the way he’s
handling his revenge targets. But he’s a
cop, at least that’s his cover, a regular patrol
officer for the Newark, New Jersey police
department for crying out loud. That’s
damned ingenious, Reno. This guy knows
what he’s doing.”

“That’s why it must be orchestrated

to the last detail,” Reno pointed out. “No
short cuts. No overlooking anything. He’s
working as a straight-laced patrol officer,
but I’ll bet the PaLargio that he has a secur-
ity detail watching his every move to rival
the President of the United States security
detail. That’s why you can’t cut any
corners. That’s why you have to make cer-
tain your pocket-padders in the police de-
partment are completely on our side.”

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“They are. Don’t worry, they are.”

Then Tommy stared at Reno. “If we’re
forced to take that riskiest of risky moves
and bring him in.”

Reno closed his tired eyes, knowing

how many things could go wrong if he made
the call to bring in Paul Brown. Then he
opened them again. “Right,” he said, hoist-
ing down a Black and Tan.

After more small talk with Tommy,

Reno eventually threw back another stiff
one and then dismissed the room. Marcy
was to stay with Tommy and Sal Luca in
one of the hotel’s suites, becoming what
even she described as their prisoner until he
could get a handle on the alleged kidnap-
ping, until another phone call came in.

Carmine, who handed Marcy’s cell

phone to Tommy, was ordered to go to the
suite downstairs to be with his wife and
keep an eye on the family. Dirty was doing
the job, but he wanted Carmine to get a

273/385

break, too. Nothing could be gained, he as-
sured him, by worrying themselves to death.

And as for Trina, he wanted his face

between her legs so badly he could already
taste her. That was why, as soon as their
penthouse was emptied of guests and he had
her in the bedroom closing the door, he
slammed her against that door and began
kissing her hard. He couldn’t get enough of
her.

***

Tommy and Sal, along with Marcy and a

team of security, took the elevator down to
the fifteenth floor, where their assigned suite
was located. Sal was appeasing Marcy, un-
doubtedly to get her in his bed tonight, and
Tommy was staring at Marcy, watching her
every move, her every interplay.

“He gave up you for her?” Sal was

saying.

“I know,” Marcy agreed.

274/385

“He’s out of his mind,” Sal contin-

ued. “You? A gorgeous woman like you?
For that black ink spot--”

“That’s enough, Sal,” Tommy

warned as Marcy laughed.

Sal looked at Marcy, who was smil-

ing. “Don’t mind him,” he said. “He likes
those African-Americans too.”

Marcy

laughed again. “And the blacker the better
far as he’s concerned. He’s had so many tar
baby girlfriends I wondered if he wasn’t
black himself. And they can be plump, too,
and he still finds them so attractive. Not
me. I like my women blonde, blue-eyed and
slim as Jim. Just like you.” He said this to
Marcy and Marcy grinned. Tommy rolled
his eyes.

But they weren’t in the apartment ten

minutes before Marcy’s cell phone began to
ring. Tommy had manipulated the phone so
that it would ring into his phone also. He
and Marcy answered at the same time.

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“This Marcy,” she said.
“You with Reno?” Pags asked.

Marcy looked at Tommy. Tommy

nodded. “Yes,” she said into the phone.

“Tell Reno a package has been wait-

ing downstairs for him for nearly two days
now. It contains a tape. Tell him to watch
it. Our instructions will be on that tape. Oh,
and tell Reno it’s under the name of Capone,
Alvin.” Then Pags laughed, and clicked off.

“Al Capone?” Sal asked. “What kind

of game are they playing at?”

“Get Reno,” Tommy ordered in a

tone Sal knew not to dispute. He hurried to
get Reno.

***

Reno was in bed fucking Trina so hard

that the entire bed was bouncing. She was
on her stomach, her ass pushed up to him,
and he was riding her hard. His hands were
squeezing her breasts as he fucked her, as
his penis kept slicing in and out of her with

276/385

a preciseness that amazed her. He kept hit-
ting her spot, kept sliding just where she
needed him to slide to give her that sensual,
euphoric feeling of pleasure that tingled
down through her toes. She was holding
onto the coverings, but they kept sliding too,
as he banged her, as he made her feel that
nothing else in this world mattered but the
way he was making her feel at this moment
in time.

Sal Luca, like Tommy, had carte

blanche through the many layers of security
guarding Reno, and after knocking and get-
ting no answer at the front door, walked on
in. He could hear them pounding as soon as
he crossed the threshold. He could hear her
screaming. He could hear Reno grunting.
He was getting a hard on just hearing her
screams, just hearing the bed bouncing, just
hearing Reno’s grunts.

But this was business. He pounded on

the bedroom door.

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Reno didn’t hear it at first, he was

just that lost in the feeling Trina’s ass was
giving to him. He could have fucked her for
another hour, he was nowhere near finished,
even though he had released inside of her
already. Then he heard Sal’s voice, and he
was able to stop himself.

He and Trina both collapsed down

onto the bed that now looked as if it had
been hit by a hurricane. “What is it?” he
yelled back.

“Marcy’s got the phone call. They

left a package for you.”

Reno looked at Trina and then they

both jumped up and threw on clothes. Reno
threw on a pair of jeans and a shirt, Trina
threw back on her shorts and a t-shirt. And
they, along with Sal, who was staring at
Trina, hurried to Tommy’s room.

The tape had already arrived by the

time Reno and Trina walked into the hotel
suite. They immediately gathered around

278/385

the television set, with Reno sitting Trina on
his lap, Marcy seated in a chair flanking
them, and Tommy played the tape.

The scene was of a small room. It

could have been a bedroom, an office, or
even part of a warehouse somewhere. It
was too difficult to tell. Everything, it
seemed, was covered in black. But there
was an empty chair in that room and for
nearly a minute nothing happened. Then a
voice could be heard, a distorted but clear
voice. It wasn’t Pags.

“Reno, hello. I knew Marcy would

come through for us. She was always good
at pleasing men.” He laughed as if it was a
joke.

“She told you about your son I take

it? About the fact that he had been kid-
napped and she had been badly bruised?
Did she show you the bruise? That was her
idea. Reno would ask for proof, she said.”

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“That lying motherfucker!” Marcy

screamed but Reno hushed her. His eyes
were riveted on the screen, totally concen-
trated on that voice. He didn’t realize it, but
his hand around Trina’s waist was squeezing
her too tightly. But she didn’t complain.
She was tense too, she was terrified that
those fools was going to show them a dead
baby or something, just to prove some point
to Reno.

“But that’s what she said,” the voice

on the tape said. “She said you’d want evid-
ence of a dragging. So we gave it to her.
Gave it to her where she would have to strip
to show you, which I’m sure she did. She
is, after all, a freak.”

Marcy was fuming. This was not

how Pags said it would play out.

“The thing is, there was no kidnap-

ping. At least not when Marcy came run-
ning to you.”

280/385

“That’s a lie,” Marcy said half-

heartedly, wondering why they were going
in this direction, wondering if they had other
aces up their asses Pags hadn’t shared with
her.

“But now,” the voice said and Reno

squeezed

Trina

tighter,

“things

have

changed.”

The scene on the screen went black

and then reappeared with Marcy’s six year
old son Nicholas seated in front of the cam-
era. Marcy, astounded, stood to her feet.

“No,” she said, confusion overtaking

her, shaking her head. “That can’t be
Nicky!”

Reno and Tommy looked at her.

“What are you talking about?”

“What are you doing?” Marcy said,

talking to the screen as if Pags and the voice
were standing right in front of her.

“Yes, Marcy,” the voice on the

screen said, “we have him.”

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Marcy began covering her mouth and

shaking her head. “No,” she said.

“What is it, Marce?” Reno asked.

“They don’t, they can’t. I didn’t

know--”

“You didn’t know what?”

“They said, Pags said. . .” She kept

shaking her head. “No!”

“You thought you were so clever,

didn’t you, Marce?” the voice on the tape
continued. “You thought you could sneak
him out of the country and we old hicks
wouldn’t notice. Come now, child. Who do
you think you’re dealing with? We had you
tailed long before our little meeting, and
definitely after the meeting. But that was
the plan, Reno. She was to tell you that her
child had been kidnapped when her child, in
her mind anyway, was safely tucked away in
Belize. Your child, Reno. This is your
child. Looks just like you, wouldn’t you

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say? A blonde haired Reno Gabrini, Junior.
But not for long.”

Reno’s heart pounded against his

chest, as he couldn’t take his eyes off of the
little, frightened boy.

“Where’s

my

child!”

Marcy

screamed, real tears running down her
cheeks. She never dreamed this would hap-
pen. Not in a million years would she have
dreamed Pags would do this to her. Trina
stood up from Reno’s lap and hurried to her,
placing an arm around her waist. “I want
my child! They can’t have him!”

“Don’t worry,” Trina said. “Reno

will get him back.” Trina looked at Reno,
her anguished face betraying her words,
then she looked back at the screen.

“We have a proposition for you,

Reno,” the voice on the tape said. “Yes,
that’s what we do, don’t we? Proposition all
day long. Well here’s yours: you can have
your boy back, back completely unharmed

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and in his father’s loving arms, yes you can.
But there’s a catch.”

You could hear a pin drop in the

room, as everybody, including Marcy, held
their breath and waited for the catch.

“You can have your son. But we

want your wife.”

Reno thought his heart had stopped

beating when Trina’s name was spoken. He
even grabbed his shirt at his chest, to stop
the pain.

Trina’s heart hammered too, as she

looked at Reno, as she realized the position
they had just put him in.

“That’s the deal,” the voice contin-

ued. “Not open to negotiation of any kind.
We want the black girl. Katrina, isn’t that
her name? We want her. Period. End of
discussion. We want the love of your life.”

There was a long sigh. “So you think

about it for a few hours, okay? Think long
and hard about it. We want you to be in

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anguish every hour you think about. But
you don’t have many hours. Twenty-four to
be precise. We will be back in touch at that
time. The time and place for the exchange
will be ready to go. Make sure your plane is
ready to bring that black beauty of a wife to
us, because there will be no further delays.
We just need to first make sure you haven’t
foolishly contacted law enforcement. I
mean, we can’t stop you of course. You can
go to the police if you want to. Such a move
would be ill advised, however. Because you
see, they’ll be very interested in how you
masterminded the Frank Partanna hit,
wouldn’t they? I mean, murder is murder,
right? So go to the cops if you want. Bring
them in if you please. You might pull it off
and not end up on death row, I doubt it, but
you might actually live. But it’s guaranteed
that your son here won’t.”

Then the little boy looked over to his

right, as if the man talking had been talking

285/385

off camera in his sight all along. “Say good-
bye to your father, Reno, Junior.”

The boy was so terrified his bottom

lip shook. “Good bye,” he said nervously.

“Say goodbye, father,” the man off

camera said.

“Goodbye, father,” Nicholas said, his

big blue eyes filled with weariness, filled
with the kind of fear that was choking
Reno. And the screen went black.

Marcy fell to her knees screaming

and crying, and Trina went down with her,
trying to keep her from complete collapse.
Tommy and Sal Luca glanced at each other.
This was bad. They knew how Reno felt
about his wife. This was bad.

Reno, however, was calm. And it

was that calm, that lack of movement and
decision, that terrified every one of them.
Nobody had ever seen Reno quite like this.

But Reno knew like Tommy and Sal

Luca knew how bad this was. While they

286/385

were still trying to get their acts together,
still trying to get checkers on the board,
Partanna’s people were not only already
playing chess, but had just check-mated
them. And left him with a Hopson’s
choice. With a take it or leave it. With two
clear options that were both clearly bad.

287/385

THIRTEEN

The private balcony on the backside of

the penthouse offered an awe-inspiring view
of the Vegas skyline. But Reno, who sat on
the lounger, and Trina, who sat at the foot of
that lounger, hadn’t even noticed the view.
Reno was contemplative, and Trina was still
worried. Tommy was out there too, his back
to Trina and Reno, his arms on the rail and
his eyes disgusted by the view.

“The answer is what it will always

be, Tree,” Reno said to his wife. “No.”

“But we can’t let a child die. Let

your son die. How can we live with
something like that on our heads?”

Reno wanted to close his eyes, but

didn’t. “We’ll have to think of something.
They won’t kill a child.”

“Oh, please, Reno, give me a break!

You mob people just kills me with that hon-
or nonsense. There’s no honor among
thieves, and you know it. Just thieves. Just
people who will do whatever they have to
do to avenge what was done to them. And if
it means killing your kid, they’ll kill your
kid. They will.”

Reno ran his hand through his hair.

“We’ll come up with something.”

“But what? You don’t even know

where they’re holding the boy.”

“No, but they know.”

Trina frowned. “What’s that sup-

posed to mean?”

Reno looked at Tommy. Trina

looked from Reno to Tommy. “What?”

Tommy exhaled, his back still to

them. “Their boss knows where the kid is
being held. We’ll just have to get him to tell
us.”

289/385

Trina stared at Tommy’s straight, el-

egant back. “How in the world are you go-
ing to do that?”

Tommy looked at Reno, causing

Trina to look, too. Reno was staring at the
dark, black hole he felt he was in. “Reno?”
Tommy said. “What say you? I think
we’ve come to that no other choice
moment.”

At first Reno said nothing, just con-

tinued to stare, just continued to think about
that sweet-faced boy with the striking
blonde hair. “Do it,” he said to Tommy
without looking at him. “Bring that bastard
in.”

***

Newark, New Jersey. Police Officer

Paul Brown and his partner Jack “Bronx”
Bratmann received the call and then
laughed. Seemed their colleagues needed
back up because the alleged perp in a DV

290/385

dispute didn’t just want to beat on his wife,
but wanted to take out cops as well.

“What,” Paul said, “they can’t handle

a trailer park yahoo?”

When they arrived at the small, dilap-

idated trailer in an entire park of dilapida-
tion, an ambulance and three other police
cars were already there. They could hear
the commotion from outside. Could hear ar-
guing going back and forth.

As they hurried onto the rickety deck

and entered the home, they saw it. One big,
burly white man with long, straggly hair was
completing a body slam on a police officer,
while two EMTs stood by a gurney. Paul
and Bronx immediately rushed over to assist
the officer, without noticing that two other
officers were in the home behind the door
they’d just entered, and both bore striking
resemblances to them.

Neither knew what hit them as they

were knocked out with just enough force to

291/385

momentarily incapacitate them, but not
enough force to harm them. One of the men
dressed as an EMT immediately took a long
needle and injected first Paul Brown and
then his partner. As soon as the injections
were complete, the men went into action.

The EMTs grabbed a now uncon-

scious Paul Brown, slung him onto the
gurney, and pulled a sheet up to his nose.
The burly “perp” then inspected both Paul
and Bronx to ensure their stand-ins made no
mistakes and fit as close as possible in how
they were wearing their uniform, their hat,
what shoes they wore. The two suspects
looked remarkably like Paul Brown and
Bronx in build, coloring, and mannerisms,
although a close inspection would clearly
show a difference. But they weren’t bank-
ing on any close inspections.

Although they left the real Officer

Bronx Bratmann passed out in the home,
with the official line to be that he was a

292/385

victim too, the EMTs then grabbed the
gurney containing the real Paul Brown and
headed outside for the ambulance.

“Okay folks,” the burly man said,

who, in actuality, was running the operation,
“let’s make this look good.”

As soon as he said those words, he

and his two stand-ins hurried to the door and
then fell out of the door wrestling, with the
other officers following, careful to keep the
lookalikes looking down. And it seemed to
work, as Reno’s men were watching Paul
Brown’s supposedly secret security detail.
Not the EMTs as they loaded the boss in the
back of the ambulance. And the fight be-
came the perfect distraction. Because they
had to pay attention. They had to make sure
their boss wasn’t in any danger. The ambu-
lance slipped away with only mild interest
by the men whose job it was to keep their
eyes trained on their boss, to make sure even
that yahoo didn’t get the best of him. And

293/385

although they saw the ambulance as it
whizzed by, their attention was on the fight,
a fight that their boss, or at least the man
they assumed was their boss, seemed to be
easily winning.

***

Less than eight hours later, Reno,

Tommy, Sal Luca and Carmine took a
private elevator to the PaLargio’s basement,
and made their way along a winding path
that led to a soundproof room. The security
was tight, and layered, exactly the way
Tommy ordered it.

Inside the room, to nobody’s surprise,

was Paul Brown, now conscious, seated in a
chair, legs crossed, untied, but definitely im-
prisoned. A small table with a glass of wine
was seated next to the chair. Paul Brown,
however, refused to drink it.

Tommy and Sal Luca stood back

against the door as Reno and Carmine
walked up to the reputed mob boss. Reno

294/385

standing in front of him, Carmine standing
behind him. This boss looked scrawny to
Reno, like a wannabe, just like the patrol of-
ficer he purported to be. But Reno would
not be fooled twice. He trusted Tommy. He
trusted that Tommy’s 411 was right on the
money. And when this pile of manure ad-
mitted where that boy was being kept, Reno
thought, there would be no further doubt.

Reno reached into his pocket, causing

Paul to brace himself, but Reno, instead,
pulled out a pair of beveled-edged barber
shears and sat them on the small table. Paul
smiled.

“What you going to give me a

haircut?”

“Where’s the boy?” Reno asked him.
“Excuse me? What boy?”
“Where’s the boy?”
“Again, what boy?”

Reno grabbed the shears, grabbed

Paul Brown’s hand, and completely cut off

295/385

his pinky finger before he could react. The
blood gushed and Paul cried out in excruci-
ating pain, holding his injured hand with his
other hand.

“Where’s the boy?” Reno asked

again, over the cries.

“What boy?” Paul screamed. “What

the fuck are you talking about?”

Reno grabbed Paul’s hand again, this

time with Carmine holding Paul back as he
fought the grab. Reno immediately sliced
off the ring finger, Paul’s diamond ring
causing a thump as the finger fell to the
ground. And the screaming, and blood,
recommenced.

“Where’s the boy?” Reno asked, over

the yells. This man hated Reno at this point
in time, but he could not have possibly hate
Reno more than Reno hated himself.

“What boy?” Paul screamed. “What

are you talking about?”

296/385

“You’re going to bleed to death,”

Reno said, as he grabbed that same damaged
hand and sliced his middle finger. Paul
nearly fell out of the chair fighting against
Carmine, fighting against Reno. The blood
flying, the pain ripping through his thin
body like shards of glass continually slicing
against his flesh, and he fought.

“Where’s the boy?” Reno asked once

more, his face as unreadable as the hidden
pain deep within him. He hated being in
this position. Hated what he was doing to
this man, what they were doing to his son,
hated all of it. But he had no choice. They
started this shit, and he had to finish it.

“Where’s the boy?” he asked yet

again.

“I told you,” Paul started and Reno

grabbed the decimated hand yet again, ready
to dice again.

“He’s here!” Paul screamed, unable

to bear another cut.

297/385

Reno held his hand, and then tossed it

away from him. “In Vegas?” he asked.

Paul shook his head, cradling his

hand as one would cradle a baby. “No,” he
said.

“Where have you ordered Pags to

keep my boy?”

“Here,” Paul said.

“What here?” Reno yelled impa-

tiently. “In Vegas?”

“Here,”

Paul

said.

“At

the

PaLargio.”

Reno stood to his feel in shock.

Carmine, shocked too, let Paul go. Tommy
pushed away from the door.

“What room?” Reno asked, his heart

pounding.

“You’re a dead man, Reno Gabrini,”

Paul said, tearing his shirt sleeve with his
teeth to wrap his hand and staunch the blood
flow. “I’ll see you in hell for this!”

298/385

“What room you fucker!” Reno

yelled, grabbing Paul by the catch of his
shirt and pulling him up from the chair.

“Two-ninety-two,” Paul screamed as

the pain ripped through him. Reno dropped
him to the chair.

“What do we do, Reno?” Carmine

asked.

Reno had to digest this. “You watch

him and wait for my call.” Then he looked
at Paul. “If you’re lying to me, you don’t
know pain yet.”

“And they call you a saint,” Paul

said, still angry, still in unbelievable pain.
“St. Dominic they called you. What saint!
You’re the most ruthless, dirty bastard that
ever lived! How could you do this to me?”

But Reno wasn’t thinking about him.

He began heading for the door. When Reno

saw that look in Tommy and Sal’s eyes, a
look that made clear that even they were
stunned by the brutality they’d just

299/385

witnessed, his heart grew faint. But what
did they expect from him? You had to give
as good as you got or people like Paul
Brown would eat you alive. Not to mention
that poor little boy. His son.

When he made it through the door,

and cleared the passageway, he ran, pulling
out the master key.

With his security team behind him,

with Tommy and Sal Luca behind them,
they took the back stairs to the hotel’s
second floor. As soon as they stepped out
onto the floor, however, Tommy pulled
Reno back, handed the master key to the
head spotter, and then motioned to security.

The beefy bodyguards hurried up to

room two-ninety-two, which was midway
along the corridor. On the finger count of
three, they swiped the card at the door’s key
slot and bum-rushed inside, relying on the
element of immediate surprise.

300/385

Reno, Tommy, and Sal continued to

wait. When the signal came, they hurried to
the room, entered, and the door was shut be-
hind them.

Inside was indeed little Nicholas,

strapped to a chair in the hotel’s one-bed-
room suite, black drapes covering all of the
walls. Reno, Tommy, and Sal stopped, just
as security had, because he was strapped in-
to the chair with explosives around his
neck. Reno moved toward him, but a voice,
not to mention Tommy’s hand, stopped him.

“Don’t come any closer, Reno.” It

was Pags voice. Coming from the closed
bedroom door just behind the chair. “That
kid will be history if you even think about
coming any closer!”

“What do you want, Pags?” Reno

asked, his heart pounding.

“If you don’t have that wife of yours

here within the next minute, it’s over. And
don’t try me.”

301/385

Reno motioned to Tommy, wonder-

ing if Pags was able to see them. Tommy
motioned at a clock on the side table that he
was willing to bet was a camera.

“You heard me, Reno. Your wife for

your son’s life.”

Tommy whispered to Sal to go and

get Katrina.

“But Reno,” Sal said.

“Just get her and get her now,”

Tommy ordered.

Sal looked at Reno, who was still

talking with Pags, and left the room.

“Where’s he going?”

“To get Mrs. Gabrini,” Tommy

offered.

Reno turned and looked at Tommy,

astounded. “My wife isn’t coming here. Got
that?”

“Your wife or this kid,” Pags said.

And I’m not playing Reno!” Pags shouted.
“I want her here and I want her here now or

302/385

this kid will be blown to more pieces than a
Jigsaw puzzle!” The little boy started cry-
ing. “All I have to do is press this button,
Reno, and he’s through!”

“Okay,” Reno said. “She’s coming.

She’s on her way. Just don’t do anything
stupid, Pags.” Then Reno looked at the
young boy. “It’s okay, son. It’ll be okay.”

“I want my mommy,” young Nich-

olas said.

“You’ll have her. Don’t worry.

She’s here. Everything will be just fine.”

“How did you find out he was here?”

Pags suddenly asked.

Reno looked at Tommy. Tommy

nodded. “Paul Brown sent us,” Reno said.
“He’s right downstairs, in fact.”

“Paul . . . But how did you . . .?”

Then there appeared to be some movement.
Reno assumed he was making a phone call,
to confirm that his boss had been snatched.

303/385

“Still there, Pags?” Reno said after a

long few moments. “Because we have a
proposition too.”

“Paul is on his usual patrol. You

don’t have Paul. What are you talking
about?”

“Tell your goons to look closer,”

Reno suggested.

There was an even longer pause.

Then: “What proposition?” Pags eventually
asked.

“The kid for your boss.”

“I want your wife. There’s no ands,

ifs, or buts about that.”

“You don’t understand,” Reno as-

sured him. “We will kill Paul Brown, aka
your boss, if you don’t let this kid go and let
him go unharmed now.”

“What the fuck you mean I don’t un-

derstand! You don’t understand. I want
your wife.”

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“And what about Paul Brown? What

about your boss?”

Trina and Marcy entered the room

with Sal Luca. As soon as Marcy saw her
son she ran toward him, with Reno being the
last man able to catch her and hold her back.

“Don’t you dare come any further,

Marcy!” Pags yelled.

“It’s all right, Nicky, okay? It’s all

right.”

“Hello, Marce,” Pags said.

“Where are you?” Marcy asked,

looking around. Reno motioned toward the
closed door.

“He can see us,” Reno said. “Let us

handle this.”

“I can also hear you, Reno,” Pags

said. “So stop the sidebars.”

Reno looked back. To his relief,

Tommy had a hand on Trina.

“You didn’t answer my question,

Pags,” Reno said. “What about your boss?”

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“What about him?”
“The boy’s life for his life.”

“No thanks,” Pags said as if he was

unaffected.

Reno frowned. “What do you mean

no thanks? You don’t understand.”

“You don’t understand! Telling me I

don’t understand. You don’t understand! It
must be your wife. It was my father, it must
be your wife!”

Reno was dumbstruck, terrified that

they’d just made another miscalculation.
“Your father?”

“You iced Frank Partanna. You iced

my father.”

“Your father, what do I look stupid to

you? You was his henchman, you was
his button. You never was any kin to
Frank Partanna!”

“He was my father. And you

murdered him. Now I will murder what’s
near and dear to you.”

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“No!” Marcy cried. “You can’t kill

my child, Pags. You said you wouldn’t
harm him. You said I had to bring Reno to
you, and I did that.”

“Don’t worry Marcy. Your child will

be fine. As long as Reno takes his wife and
replace her in that chair. Then I will disarm
your son’s explosives, you can remove
them, and he can go home with you
tonight.”

Marcy looked at Reno.

“No, Pags,” he said, shaking his

head. “Not my wife.”

“Reno,” Trina said. Reno turned to

her. “He’s a child, Reno,” she said, with
pleading in her voice.

“No,” Reno said. “No!” Then he

turned toward the camera. “You can have
me, Pags. I’ll sit in your chair. You can
have me! I’m the villain here. I’m the one
who ordered your father’s hit. Take me.
But not my wife.”

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“Your wife or your son’s life,” Pags

said.

“Me! Only me, Pags!”
“Your wife or your son’s life.”
“Listen to me!” Reno yelled.

“One, two, ” Pags began the

countdown.

“Reno!” Marcy yelled. “Don’t let my

baby die!”

Reno’s heart felt as if it was coming

out of his chest. “Pags, you can’t do this.
Listen to me, Pags!”

“Three, four,” Pags continued.

“Put her in that chair, Reno!” Marcy

yelled. “Put that black bitch in that chair!”

“Take me, Pags!” Reno yelled.

“Take me!”

“Your wife or your son’s life, Reno.

Five, six.”

“Get out of here, Tree!” Reno

screamed as he ran toward the chair.
Trina’s heart dropped through her shoe.

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“Seven, eight.”

“No, Reno!” Trina screamed, as she

saw what her husband was about to do.

“Reno, save my son!” Marcy

screamed, as she saw what Reno was doing.

“Nine,” Pags said as Reno lifted the

vest from over his son’s head, pushed his
son away, and fell on top of the vest.

And like the calm before the storm,

everything went momentarily still.

“Ten,” Pags said. “You lose, Reno.”
And then the explosion.

It wasn’t as big as they had expected

it to be, but it was powerful enough to knock
Trina, Tommy, Marcy, and most of the
guards backwards and off of their feet.
Trina, Tommy, and Sal immediately looked
at Reno. They knew he was gone. They
knew a body on top of those kind of explos-
ives could not possibly live.

But Reno, to his own shock, was

fine. Above them all, he was perfectly fine.

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Then they heard the low groan of

agony. It was Marcy. She was crawling to-
ward her son, who had been tossed, by
Reno, against the wall. And it was immedi-
ately obvious that the boy was still wired,
that the explosive vest wasn’t the detonation
point, but the explosives inside of his shirt.
Explosives they didn’t even know about.
Chess, not checkers.

While his security team knocked

down the bedroom door, only to find Pags
with a self-inflicted bullet through his head,
Reno sat on his haunches in disbelief. Star-
ing at the dead child. Staring at Marcy’s
grief as she held him in her loving arms. He
felt as if he was dreaming. This wasn’t hap-
pening. This couldn’t be happening. But it
was. It was atonement, retribution, payback
for all of his sins.

He stood up, still staring at Marcy,

still staring at that dead child in her arms, a
child that was supposed to be his but that he

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knew no better than he’d know a stranger on
a street corner, and he headed for the exit
door.

Trina stood up too, staring at Reno,

her eyes so stunned they couldn’t blink.
When Reno walked up to her, he stopped by
her side.

“Leave me,” he said with anguish in

his voice, looking not at her, but straight
ahead. “Please leave me.”

And then he left.

Tommy stood up too, pulling a now

crying Trina into his arms, his eyes still fix-
ated on Marcy and her deceased child.

Sal Luca followed Reno.

But he could barely keep up. Reno

had that swagger, had that kill or be killed
animal look that scared him. And he walked
with that kind of purpose down the second
floor corridor. By now hotel guests were in
the hall, terrified by the explosion, but Reno
didn’t even see them. He ran down the back

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stairs again, ran until he was in the basement
again, ran until he was down the hall and in-
to the soundproof room where Paul Brown
was being held.

Sal Luca had just come into the room

as Reno walked up to Paul Brown, pulled
out a revolver, and shot the mob boss, mob
style, between the eyes. He was dead
instantaneously.

Reno then turned around and left.

Sal looked at Carmine, amazed. But

Carmine immediately made a phone call.
“Get a cleanup crew down here now,” he
ordered, ordered Sal out, and then locked
the door.

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FOURTEEN

Six months later

Lee Jones took the elevator to the thirti-

eth floor and entered the suite of offices that
made up the office of the CEO. The execut-
ive secretary smiled as he walked up.

“Is she in?” he asked, a file folder

dangling from his hand.

“She’s in,” the secretary said, “but

she’s in a meeting.”

Lee hit his file against the side of his

leg, his patience wearing thin. They had to
get the position filled. He couldn’t go an-
other night without a decision. “I’ll wait,”
he said and took a seat against the wall.

As he sat against the wall with his

legs crossed and his head leaned back for
nearly ten minutes, the office door finally

opened and Trina, along with two Japanese
businessmen, stood at the entranceway. Lee
immediately stood to his feet. He was
amazed at how well Trina was handling the
situation, how she had grown in a matter of
a few months into her role perfectly. She
even looked the part, in her short, dark blue
skirt suit, tailored to perfection against her
busty body.

After promising to get back with the

businessmen, and after they bowed and left,
smiling at Lee as they did, Trina began to
head out of the office.

“We need to talk, Trina,” Lee said as

she stopped at her secretary’s desk.

“Is Wasserman still waiting?” she

asked her secretary.

“Yes, ma’am, he said he’d be in the

casino.”

“Call Stan. Tell him to find him now

and get him in his office. I’m on my way.”

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“Yes, ma’am,” the secretary said as

she immediately picked up the phone.

Trina could only glance at Lee.

“Hello Lee,” she said as she continued to
walk. “I’m in a hurry, Lee.”

She was always in a hurry, he

thought. Her way, he also figured, of cop-
ing. “We’ve got to make a decision,” Lee
said, walking with her.

“How did it go last night?” she asked

as they exited out of her suite of offices and
headed for the private elevators.

“It went fine last night,” Lee said. “It

goes fine every night. But that’s not the is-
sue, Tree. We’ve got to make a decision.”

“And a decision will be made. When

Reno gets back he’ll make it.”

“Tree,” Lee said, shaking his head.

“Reno’s been gone for six months. If he
was coming back he would have been back.
He blames himself for that child’s death.
You can’t live with guilt like that over your

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head. He’s gone. Probably trying to start
over somewhere by himself. He’s not com-
ing back.”

Trina stared at Lee. Didn’t he realize

what he was doing? Didn’t he see how he
was snatching away the last piece of bark
that kept her from drifting out to sea, from
being swallowed up by the raging sea? And
the fact that he didn’t see it, or was so cer-
tain about what he was saying that it no
longer mattered that he saw it, angered her.
“Who do you think you’re talking to?” she
asked him.

The elevator doors opened and the

operator waited for them to get onboard.
But they just stood there, staring at each oth-
er. Lee knew her anguish, he knew how
badly she wanted her husband back. But he
also knew how badly they had to make a de-
cision. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I was out of
line. But Tree, when Amos Logan resigned
rather than work under your command, you

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gave me his job. You made me the new
general manager. But I can’t be general
manager and still manage the Taffeta too.
We have got to get a new manager on
board.”

Trina placed her fingers to her fore-

head, the low grade headache she’d been
nursing all day beginning to throb. She
stepped onto the elevator. Lee followed her.

“The casino, Wade.”

“Yes, ma’am,” the operator said and

the doors closed them in.

Trina, at first, said nothing. Just took

the nonstop ride in silence. Then she looked
at Lee. He was right. He usually was. “Do
you have somebody in mind?”

“Yes. He’s over at the MGM Grand,

but he’s ready to make a move.”

“Will he come over on an interim

basis? Until Reno can . . .In case Reno
doesn’t like the pick?”

317/385

Lee shook his head. “No, Tree, he

won’t. This guy is first rate. He’s not leav-
ing MGM on a maybe. It has got to be a
guarantee.”

“Of course you’re right.” She nod-

ded. “Bring him to my office tomorrow
morning. I’ll talk to him. If I don’t see or
hear any red flags, I’ll go along with it.”

The elevator doors opened. “But I

will be as critical of him as Reno is of new
managers, especially if we plan to put him
over at the Taffeta. So don’t promise him
anything. Just an interview with me.”

“Thanks, Tree,” Lee said as she

stepped off and the elevator took him back
up.

Trina hadn’t rounded the first cor-

ridor when she saw Jazz, standing over by
the public elevators, talking with what ap-
peared to be a male hotel guest. Trina shook
her head. Hadn’t she learned anything? She
walked over to her.

318/385

As soon as Jazz saw her old friend

coming, she immediately stood erect. “And
we can discuss that matter tomorrow morn-
ing,” she said to the man she was just a
second ago flirting with. The man, taken
aback by her sudden business-like tone,
smiled. Until he saw Trina. Her supervisor,
perhaps?

“Hello, Jazz,” Trina said.

“Hey, Tree, how you doing?” Jazz

asked with a grand smile.

“May I speak with you for a mo-

ment?” It wasn’t exactly debatable since
Trina was already moving away.

“Yeah, sure,” Jazz said, gave her

male companion one of those we’ll talk later
looks, and hurried to Trina’s side. “What’s
up?” she asked.

“You’re skating on thin ice, Jazz.”
Jazz frowned. “What’s that supposed

to mean?”

319/385

“Reno didn’t want to bring you back

here. He said it was a bad idea all around.
Lee Jones said the same thing. But they let
you back because I wanted it. But I am
telling you, Jazz, you had better get your
shit together or there won’t be a third time.”

“I got it together, what you mean by

that? Just because you happened to catch
me talking to somebody? What I can’t have
an innocent conversation with a dude
anymore?”

“Coming late to work, back talking

Lee the way you’re right now back talking
me, treating some of our customers with dis-
respect. If Reno was here he would have
fired you already.” Then Trina closed her
eyes and opened them again. “Just don’t
push your luck,” she said. “You’ve been
given a golden opportunity. Tighten your
shit and handle your business, Jazz, or
you’re be out in the cold again.” Then Trina
walked away.

320/385

Jazz stared at her as she left, as she

sashayed her way along the corridor like
some major big deal. Sometimes she felt
like she hated that sister. It wasn’t her fault
that her old man left her, why was she tak-
ing it out on her? Now she walks around
here like she’s the mighty Trina, like she’s
the head nigger in charge. And just because
her bed ain’t warm, she’s taking it all out on
her. When she had nothing to do with it.

Then Jazz looked over at the male

hotel guest who still waited for her by the
elevators. And she smiled, forgot about
Trina, and hurried back to him.

Trina entered the massive PaLargio

casino, the biggest money engine of the en-
tire hotel, and headed toward Stan’s back of-
fice. She had yet another meeting with yet
another investor and her head was killing
her. But when she saw Jeffrey Graham
walking the floor, doing his job as gaming
supervisor, aka pit boss, with the high

321/385

efficiency he was becoming known for, she
smiled.

“Hey, Jeff, how’s it going?”

“Going great,” Jeffrey said, smiling

too. “You look tired.”

“I am tired,” Trina said as she kept

going. Jeffrey had amazed her. Instead of
wanting favors or trying to worm his way
into her bed after Reno left, he just did his
job and got it done. Stan, his boss, had
nothing but great things to say about him.

After meeting with Stan and Wasser-

man, it was well after ten. And she’d been
on her feet, going and coming, since before
six a.m. that morning. By the time she made
it to the penthouse, and had jumped in the
shower, she could barely drag herself to
bed. And as soon as her head hit the pillow,
Reno, as he had done every night since the
last night she saw him, dominated her
thoughts.

322/385

He left after his son’s death, left

blaming himself. Trina begged him not to
go, she grabbed him and tried to hold him
back, but he slung her off of him. He was
bad news, he kept saying. He wasn’t going
to ruin her life or anybody else’s life ever
again. And he left. Just walked right out.

Six months ago.

Tears appeared in Trina’s eyes just

thinking about Reno. She missed him so
much. At first she tried to search for him,
but Tommy Gabrini told her not to, that he
would make sure he didn’t harm himself.
“But you can’t hold him back,” Tommy also
said. “He’ll die if he stays. He has to go, he
has to come to terms with himself, with
what he’s done, he has to forgive himself
before he can accept anybody else’s forgive-
ness. Let him go, Trina,” Tommy had
begged her. “If you love him, let him go.”

She loved him dearly, so she let him

go.

Carmine had been great, as he

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continued to close down Reno’s father’s il-
legal businesses and run his legal ones.
He’d been her biggest supporter. He and
Tommy.

She used to call Tommy almost every

week, just to hear him tell her that Reno was
okay, but then she stopped doing even that.
Reno was still her husband, and she was still
his wife, and she would give him time to
heal, to make up his mind. It had already
been six months, too long to her parents and
to even Carmine. But they didn’t under-
stand. She’d wait six years for Reno if she
had to. He was worth it.

She turned over, just thinking about

how much he was worth it, how badly she
missed him. Lee Jones had said that if Reno
was coming back, he would have been back
by now. And Lee was a friend of Reno’s.
He wasn’t trying to be harsh. He was just
trying to get her to face facts. Your husband

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has left you, his words seemed to say.
Move on with your life.

But how could she move on with her

life, she wondered, the tears flowing more
freely now, the ache deep within her no less
painful after all these months, when her life
was with Reno?

***

It was raining in Seattle as Reno locked

up the restaurant for the night and jogged
over to his Mercedes. It was the lone car
still in the parking lot and one of the few
still on the road. He drove ploddingly, not
superfast the way he used to be known for
driving, because he no longer saw the virtue
in rushing. What was there to rush about?
Who was he rushing to?

In fact, the highlight of his day was

usually his drive home from work. It was
usually well after midnight when he clocked
off, and the streets were ghostly compared
to how they had been earlier. The sounds of

325/385

silence helped him too. He found that he
liked the silence, the peacefulness, the com-
fort in knowing that he could exist without
living, that when he drove in the quietness
of the early morning, he could just drive and
concentrate on driving, and not have to feel
a darn thing.

The silence in his home, however,

was different. Tommy wanted him to stay
in one of those fancy condos he owned, but
he had refused. Condos meant living on top
of people, and he didn’t want that. This
house, across from a lumberyard that kept
regular, 9 to 5 type hours, was isolated,
dark, dreary, unattractive as hell, but perfect
for him.

It was a different silence in his

home. Because as soon as he shut the door,
this silence was devoid of life. On his drive
home he could smell the smog, hear the
rustling trees, feel the rain on his arm as he
always drove, unless there was some kind of

326/385

monsoon, with his window down. Here, in
his home, was silence filled with nothing-
ness. And nothingness always reminded
him of himself.

He fell across the bed still fully

clothed. He should fix himself something to
eat, he knew, or at least shower first to get
the stench of the day off of him, but he
didn’t have the energy to even make the at-
tempt. Because this kind of silence also
made him think. There was no road to con-
centrate on, or even no restaurant activity to
be distracted by. Just nothingness. This
kind of silence always put Katrina on his
mind.

He closed his eyes tightly. Would he

ever get over her? Would it ever get any
easier? They always said how time healed
every wound. But they lied. Time hadn’t
healed a damn thing for him. It just caused
him to separate from the wound, to keep his

327/385

cursed, wretched self far away from her
wonderfulness.

And he opened his eyes. He could

see her big, bright eyes. He could feel her
smooth dark skin, the way he used to caress
it, the way he could never keep his hands off
of her. He could still smell her sweet, fresh
scent. On his drive home tonight, Trina was
the rain beating down on him, prickling his
own skin, forcing him to feel alive. He
wasn’t living, he gave up life when he gave
up Trina. But somehow she kept him alive.

The doorbell rang and then knocking

was heard. Which, Reno knew as he made
his way to open it, that it was nobody but
Tommy. He always rang then knocked.
And he also was the only human being to
not only know where Reno lived, but to
come by and see him.

“It’s one o’ clock in the morning,” he

said to his cousin as he let him in and
headed for the kitchen.

328/385

“Nice to see you, too, Dominic,”

Tommy said with a smile as he followed
him. Reno glanced back, at the long
white coat Tommy wore, at the fancy
bowler hat, at the expensive suit.

“Where you going this time of

morning?”

“Phoenix.”
“Arizona?”

“Wire-tapping case. One of my

people found out some very damaging in-
formation on a very highly placed politi-
cian. It requires delicacy.”

“Tommy Gabrini to the rescue,”

Reno said as Tommy sat at the small kitchen
table. Reno pulled out a couple of bottles of
beer and gave him one. When Reno sat
down, in his stained, rumpled suit, his five o
clock shadow, Tommy exhaled.

“You look like shit,” he said.

“Fuck you,” Reno said with no emo-

tion, and drained some beer.

329/385

“How’s it going? For real this time.”

Reno ran his hand through his

already rumpled hair, giving it an even
wilder look. “It’s going. That little joint of
yours taking in serious business.”

“I know,” Tommy said, sipping beer

too. Reno smiled. Tommy was not a beer
man and it showed. “People thought I was
crazy when I bought it, they said it was a
dead location. But what do they know,
right?”

“Damn right,” Reno said, folding his

arms.

Tommy leaned forward, his brow fur-

rowed, and Reno knew the purpose of this
late night visit of his was about to be re-
vealed. “I’ve got to get going,” Tommy
said, “but I wanted to ask you something. I
wanted to ask if you wanted me to stop in at
the PaLargio.”

330/385

Reno was shaking his head before

Tommy could finish saying his last word.
“No.”

“She’s still worried about you.”

“That’s why you can’t go. No. The

sooner she gets me out of her system, the
better off she’ll be.”

“That’s bullshit, Reno, and you know

it.”

“Whatta you a mind reader now?

You gonna tell me what I know and don’t
know now?”

“Okay,” Tommy said, leaning back.

“Divorce her then.”

Reno stared at his cousin. “What?”

“You want her out of your system.

You want her to go on with her life. Fine.
Serve her divorce papers. She’ll have no
choice but to go on with her life then. She’ll
know you mean business, and that it’s
over.”

331/385

Reno’s heart began to pound.

“Over?” he said. “What the fuck are you
talking about? It’ll never be over. That’s
Trina. That’s my wife!” he yelled, more in
pain than anger. “It’ll never be over. She’ll
always be my wife.”

“Then how is she going to move on,

Ree, if you won’t be with her, but you won’t
let her go? How does your decision not to
divorce her helps her?”

Reno looked out through the always

opened blinds of his kitchen window, saw
the rain still slicing and dicing up Seattle.
Then he looked at his elegant, dapper cous-
in, and he felt so inadequate. “It doesn’t
help her,” he admitted. “But it keeps me
alive.”

Tommy’s heart dropped. And he

suddenly realized a startling truth. Reno
was no better, not an ounce better, than he
was that night six months ago when he car-
ted him away from Vegas. And if he didn’t

332/385

come to his senses and go back to his wife,
he was never going to get better.

Tommy stood up. “My plane is wait-

ing,” he said. Then stared at Reno. “You
take care of yourself.”

Reno nodded, sipped more beer,

stared at more rain, didn’t bother to see him
out.

Tommy left the suffocating little

house and got into his waiting limousine.
Also waiting for him was a beautiful black
woman with short, freestyle hair and big, al-
mond eyes. Tommy’s latest lady friend.

“Hope I didn’t take too long, sweet-

heart,” he said to her.

“You didn’t,” she said with a smile.

Then they kissed, and she tasted so

good that Tommy was certain they would be
fucking before they even made it to the air-
strip. Then he leaned his head back and
closed his eyes as she unzipped his pants,

333/385

pulled out his manhood, and began to re-
lieve him.

As she did her work, he picked up the

car phone.

“Max, it’s me,” he said into the

phone, her hand moving up and down his
long rod, her tongue licking with light ex-
pertness. “There’s a change in the flight
plan. Yes. Yes, I’m aware that it’s a nuis-
ance, but it’s a fact. I need to stop through
Vegas first. Right. I know, Max, I know.
But do it.” He said his last few words with a
grunt, and then he dropped the phone as his
woman sucked on him so exactly that he
was lifting from his seat.

“Aaah,” he said like a loud exhale, no

longer caring that he was driving through
Seattle, or would soon be at the airstrip, or
that he was pulling down his pants, lifting
this woman on top of him, and ripping the
seat of her panties to enter her. Even that
oddball cousin of his wasn’t on his radar

334/385

screen. Not now. Not as he slid into her
black beautifulness and found exactly what
he was looking for.

“Aaah,” he said again.

335/385

FIFTEEN

“I said well done,” the customer in-

sisted. “Not rare, not medium done. Well
done.”

“It is well done,” the waitress insisted

back.

“Are you blind? It’s burnt on the

outside and bloody as hell on the inside.
See,” he took his fork and proved his point.
“That’s not well done, lady, are you kidding
me?”

“Does it look like I’m kidding you?”

the waitress said, her blue eyes blazing now,
ready to mix it up with the best of them.
But then she glanced at the back booth, re-
membered who was sitting there, and caught
herself. “I apologize if your sparerib isn’t to
your liking, sir.” She scooped up the plate.
“I’ll correct the problem and be right back.”

Reno, seated in that back booth, took

a sip of his Guinness and watched her head
for the kitchen of the small, but prosperous
restaurant. Taste of Southern it was called,
although why Italian Tommy would buy an
eatery in Seattle that specialized in southern
cuisine when he’d only been to the south a
few times in his entire life, was a mystery to
Reno. But here it was, fried chicken, ribs,
and smoked pork chops highlighting the
menu. In Seattle of all places. Reno
thought Tommy had lost his mind.

But when he left Vegas, it was

Tommy who took him away. Took him first
to his beach home in Malibu, where Reno at
least found the peace and quiet he needed.
But good ol’ Tommy felt Reno had too
much quietness and believed what he
needed most was to get busy again; that a
workaholic like Reno couldn’t sit still for
long. He therefore kept asking Reno to
come and manage the place, that he needed

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a man he could trust at the helm, that it
would help him to stop moping around and
reliving all of those horrors.

After much thought, and even more

moping around, Reno finally agreed. And
he took that drive from California to Seattle,
agreeing to help out on a temporary basis
only. Besides, Tommy was right. Reno was
dying a little more every day in Malibu.

But when Reno arrived and first saw

the place, his response was exactly what
Tommy had hoped it would be.

“Restaurant,” Reno had said. “What

restaurant? You call this hole in a wall a
restaurant?”

And Tommy had laughed and hugged

his favorite cousin. Reno was finally show-
ing some signs. It wasn’t much, it was just a
comment and a smile, a drive out to Seattle,
but it was a far sight better than he’d seen
his cousin in a long, long time.

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Reno buried his face back in the

Seattle Times crossword puzzle he was
working on. It was late at night, nearing
closing time, and he was beginning to feel
the uneasiness that always came over him
when he thought about going to his drab
little house. But he dismissed the thought
out of his mind.

He’d been manager for nearly three

months now and was doing damned good
business. He never dreamed a hole in a wall
like this could run this much business.
Tommy said it was because of all of the dis-
placed southerners that were finding their
way to the west coast, all of those people
who grew up on fried everything, and he
wanted to tap into, and ultimately corner
that market.

Displaced people, Reno

thought. He could relate to them.

And Reno had to give his cousin

credit. It was working. Was even making
him feel a pulse again. Taste of Southern

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was becoming his lifeline. But then he’d
think about one southerner in particular, a
certain hazel-eyed beauty from Mississippi,
and that old familiar ache would replace any
fullness, and that feeling of emptiness would
replace any gain.

Janet, the head cashier, sat across

from Reno in his back booth. Reno sipped
more beer and looked at her. She was a fair
looking woman, strawberry blonde, nicely
tanned, but she was a woman who always
gave Reno the impression that she was try-
ing too hard. And not just her work product,
either. She’d also been trying to get Reno’s
dick up her ass the entire time he’d been
there.

“I’m off in a few minutes,” she said.

“It’s that time again?” he asked.

“You work too hard.”

Janet smiled. “Look who’s talking.

You do nothing but work, my friend.”

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Reno gave a little snort and looked

back down at his puzzle.

Janet, however, continued to stare at

him, at his rich, brown hair slicked back off
of a face so attractive she understood how
he could be kin to a great looker like
Tommy Gabrini. And that body of his. She
just knew he could satisfy her in ways that
could turn her into his bitch for life.
Regardless of how he treated her. Which,
she suspected, given the rumors she’d heard
about his ties to the mob, would more than
likely be rough.

But he never showed any interest.

She could probably flash him right here and
now, and he’d look, probably even get a
hard on, but wouldn’t touch. He never
seemed to want to touch. She once thought
about asking Tommy if he was gay. But
Tommy wasn’t the kind of man you could
just walk up to and ask such a question. He
was as standoffish as Reno, maybe even

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more so. Unless you were black, Janet
thought with some bitterness when she
looked toward the entrance door and saw a
black woman walk in. Tommy seemed to
just love those black bitches.

“When I get off,” she said, turning

her attention back to Reno, placing her hand
over one of his, “I’m going to go home and
cook a big, wonderful meal. And it won’t
be any of this southern shit, either.” Reno
smiled. “So why don’t I give you a call
when I have it all ready, and you can come
over and join me?”

Reno looked up at Janet. She was a

good person and deserved a good man. He,
however, wasn’t that man. “I’d better not,”
he said. “It’ll be late before I can get away
from here and I’m going to be too tired to
eat anything.”

“Get lost, in other words?” Janet

asked in jest. But when Reno didn’t correct
her, didn’t say, no, of course not, but instead

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drained down more beer and looked out of
the window away from her, she jumped
from the table angrily, determined to leave
his heartless sight. Only she bumped into
the black woman who had just entered the
building.

“Look where you’re going, lady,”

Janet admonished the woman, and then
walked away.

“Sorry,” the woman said to Janet’s

back, wondering where did all of that anger
come from.

When Reno heard the woman’s

voice, however, he went still. He knew it
couldn’t be. Not here. Not in Seattle. He
knew his imagination was playing tricks on
him once again. He knew he was being
suckered once again.

But he looked anyway.
And to his shock, to his utter surprise,

Katrina, his wife, the woman he hadn’t seen

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in nearly half a year, was standing right in
front of him.

At first he just sat there, unable to

make a move even if he had wanted to. And
he didn’t know if he wanted to. He had
done her the greatest favor of her life by
leaving. As soon as he answered all the
questions the authorities wanted answered,
and they had nothing on him because he and
his team knew how to clean up their mess,
he left. But that poor child was still dead.

But Trina’s life was still turned upside

down. But his soul was still in ruins. All
because of decisions, those shameful de-
cisions, he was forced to make.

Fear and pain kept him in his seat.

“Hello Reno,” Trina said, staring at

him. If someone didn’t really know him,
they would say he made it out just fine; that
he made it through that horrible storm all
right. But she knew him, and she knew,
when he looked up and she saw that

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devastation still flickering like warning
lights in his bright blue eyes, that he was a
long way from all right.

“Hey,” he said, and he said it with a

jerk in his voice, as if it pained him to say
anything to her.

Which pained her even more. But

what could she do? “Mind if I sit down?”
she asked.

He rose in respect as she sat down on

the seat Janet had just vacated. Trina had
noticed, when she spotted him and was
walking toward his booth, that the young
woman had her hand over Reno’s, and it un-
nerved her even more than this crazy trip
had already unnerved her. But she had
come too far to turn back now.

“Want something to drink?” Reno

asked her. “What would you like to drink?”

“Nothing, I’m good.”
“You sure?”
“Yes.”

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Reno hesitated. Seeing her again was

affecting him to such an extent that he had
hoped going to get her something to drink
would give him the time-out he needed to
exhale, to stop himself from trembling. He
sat back down.

Trina tried to smile at him. She was

only mildly successful. “It’s been a long
time, Reno,” she said.

It was such an understatement to

him. Their whole meeting seemed like such
an understatement. “Yeah,” he said. “It has
been.” He leaned back, folded his arms.
“You’ve been all right, Tree? Been taking
care of yourself?”

“I get by.”

“You’ve lost weight,” Reno noticed,

looking down at her body. “Too much
weight.”

“Just a few pounds.”

“A few pounds my ass. You’ve lost

ten, fifteen I guarantee it.”

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“Well what do you expect me to do,

Reno? Most days I can barely breathe and
you expect me to eat?”

She regretted getting upset as soon as

she did. But he was talking as if her life
hadn’t been altered at all, and that angered
her.

“Sorry,” she said.
“What you sorry about? You deserve

to hate my guts, are you serious?” Then
Reno settled down too, the pain becoming
almost excruciating. And then Janet came
over, which didn’t help.

“I’m getting ready to shove off,

Reno,” she said, looking more at Trina than
her boss.

“All right, J, have a good night.”

Janet nodded her head toward Trina.

“Who’s that?” she asked as if she had a right
to know, a fact not lost on Trina.

“That’s my wife,” Reno said, staring

Janet dead in her eyes. By her reaction it

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was obvious to Trina that she had no clue
Reno was even married, let alone to a black
woman.

This time she was staring at Reno.

“Your wife?” she said. “You never said
anything about a wife.”

“What are you my woman? When

since I’ve got to tell you anything about my
personal life?”

“You could have mentioned it.”
“Why?”

Janet didn’t know how to answer

that.

“Just get outta here, all right?” Reno

said, attempting to ease the tension he knew
was quickly bubbling to the surface.

Janet stared at Reno a moment

longer, looked at Trina, and then back at
Reno. “Up yours, Reno,” she said as she
left.

Trina smiled, although it was bitter-

sweet. “Breaking hearts already?”

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“Ah, she’s been in heat since I’ve

been here. She’ll have a new boyfriend
soon and forget I even exist.”

“But she works for you?”

“She works for Tommy. This is his

gig, not mine. I just manage the place for
him. But he hires and fires and do all the
personnel stuff.”

“Your request I’d bet.”
“Yeah, you’d win that bet,” he said.

“So” Trina said, looking around at

the nice but small restaurant, a restaurant
that probably wouldn’t even be good enough
to be alongside the chain of restaurants in-
side the PaLargio, “when you left me is this
where you came?”

Reno’s heart dropped. “I didn’t leave

you, Tree. Don’t say it like that.”

“And how am I supposed to say it,

Reno? I mean, you left me. That’s a fact.
People ask me where’s my husband, and I

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tell them he left me. I don’t know how else
I’m supposed to say that.”

“You make it sound like I didn’t love

you and left you, when it was nothing like
that.” When I loved you too much, he
wanted to add, but didn’t.

Trina took his glass of beer and took

a swig. Then she sat the mug back down
and wiped her lips with the back of her
hand. Reno found himself staring at those
lips, remembering how they tasted, remem-
bering how she tasted. “The point is,” she
said, “you came here.

To work for

Tommy.”

“I was just getting away. It wasn’t as

orchestrated as all that. Tommy was my
lifeline. He took me to his place out in
Malibu first. I probably would have ended
it all--”

“Don’t say that!” Trina yelled loud

enough to get attention. Then she lowered

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her voice. “Don’t say that, Reno.” She
looked up at him. “Please.”

Reno nodded. Some truth, he knew,

was too hard to face. “Well, thank God I’m
here and I’m able to see your pretty face
again.” And it was still so gorgeous to Reno
that he could hardly contain himself from
not going to her, and touching it, and kissing
it, and reclaiming it. But he stayed where he
sat.

A depressed look came over Trina.

She leaned back. “I miss you, Reno,” she
said and looked at him with narrowed eyes.

Reno nodded, drained more Guin-

ness. “How did you know I was camped
this way? Tommy?”

She nodded. “He came over to the

PaLargio yesterday morning.

Told me

where you were. He said you’d probably
kick his ass for telling, but he didn’t give a
damn anymore. You were in bad shape, he
said.”

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“Ah, what does Tommy know? Al-

ways getting into my business.”

“It’s my business too. He felt I

needed to find out, one way or the other,
what your plans were.”

“Plans? What plans?” Reno couldn’t

shield his irritation.

“Are you coming back to me? Or is it

over for good between us and I may as well
file for divorce?”

Reno’s heart dropped. He didn’t

want to deal with this. He couldn’t deal
with this right now. “How’s the PaLargio?”
he asked her. “Tommy says you’re handling
it like a champ, that you’re running it and
making it your own.”

“I get by. Tommy’s been a good ad-

visor, and he’s surrounded me with some
good people to help me out.”

“Good.”
“But it’s not the same without you.”

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Reno hesitated. The idea of so much

as seeing the PaLargio again pained him.
“Yeah, well. You get to see Ma and my sis-
ters anytime?”

“I’ve seen them a couple times,

yeah. They’re back at the family compound
in Spring Valley.”

“And your parents, how’s it going

with them?”

“Good. Mama’s fully recovered and

back to be her regular ornery self.” Reno
smiled. “And Dad’s still doing great. They
visited me a couple times at the PaLargio.”

“Oh, yeah? How did they like it?”
“Loved it. As a place to visit, that is.

But both times they couldn’t wait to get
back to Dale.”

“Good ol’ Dale.”

“They love that new house you pur-

chased for them. I didn’t even know you
had purchased it.”

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“Yeah, I took care of that while you

were still in that hospital in Dale. I didn’t
want your mother to be released with no
home to go to.”

Trina stared at him. “You’re a very

thoughtful man, you know that?”

“No, because I’m not. I’m a ruthless

man, a heartless man, a man who causes
death and destruction everywhere he goes,
and you’d be wise to never forget that.”

Tears suddenly appeared in Trina’s

eyes, tears she quickly tried to wipe away,
but they were there. She reached into her
purse and grabbed a tissue, and looked out
of the window. When Reno realized she was
teary-eyed, his heart dropped. He quickly
stood up, slid on the booth seat beside her,
and placed his arm around her.

“Tree, I’m sorry,” he said, his heart

like a torrent of pain. “Please don’t cry.”

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“I’m okay,” she said, looking away

from him out of the window, her tissue now
just clearing up any running makeup.

Reno looked up and was amazed that

his staff was standing behind the checkout
counter staring at the two of them. “What
the fuck y’all looking at?” he yelled. And
they quickly, with terror now in their eyes,
scattered.

Reno squeezed Trina’s shoulder.

“Come on,” he said, feeling heady at being
this close to her again, “let’s get out of
here.”

They stood up and Reno kept his

hand on the small of her back as he walked
her out of the restaurant. When they got
outside in the damp night air, Reno exhaled.

“Better?” he asked her.
“Yeah, thanks,” she replied.

And for a few moments they just

stood there, neither knowing quite what to

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say. “How did you get here? From the air-
port, I mean. You rented a car?”

“I caught a cab,” she said.

“Got a place to stay for the night? A

hotel, I mean?”

Trina shook her head. “No, I didn’t

think to . . . No.”

Reno nodded, his eyes unable to stop

sliding down to her breasts, unable to stop
thinking about how she felt in his arms. He,
in fact, suddenly realized that his hand was
still on the small of her back.

“Come on,” he said and walked her

to his Mercedes.

When they got in and Reno made the

slow drive to his home, there was a sadness
between the two of them that hovered like a
death. He reached over and took her hand
as he drove, and she looked out of the side
window, to avoid letting him see her tears.
She was so hopeful on the plane, so determ-
ined to make Reno see the error of his ways

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and come back to her. But now she wasn’t
sure if it would even work if he came back.
They had drifted so far apart!

She was stunned when he pulled up

into the driveway of a rinky-dink looking
tiny house across the street from a lumber-
yard. And it was in the booneys too, with
no other houses around that she could see.
Isolated. That, she guessed, after all, was
the point.

They walked, side by side like

strangers, into the small home. But when
they entered and closed the door, and the si-
lence hit Reno like an old, familiar ache, be-
fore he even turned on a light, before he
could even think about the consequences, he
pushed her against the closed front door and
began kissing her.

It was so unexpected to Trina that she

at first recoiled from his kiss. What was he
doing? Why was he doing it? But as his
lips seared into hers, as he pressed harder

357/385

and harder and his tongue forced her mouth
open and he licked and prodded and filled
her with that headiness only Reno could fill
her with, she joined in. Placed her arms
around his neck and began returning his
kisses.

For the longest time they just stood

there, against the front door, kissing. The
sounds of their lips smacking, of their
tongues exploring, of their moans and
groans filled the quiet room.

Reno could hardly contain himself as

he kissed her, as he leaned closer into her
and kissed and kissed and couldn’t stop
kissing her. His manhood was so huge, so
thick, throbbing so intensely that he un-
zipped his pants and sat it free.

It hit against Trina with a hard

whack, it had been too long encaged, and
Trina placed her arms completely around
him as she felt his presence against her
stomach. He lifted her and then slid his hand

358/385

underneath her skirt and removed her
panties, sliding them off, placing them in his
pant pocket, and then opened and wrapped
her shapely legs around his body.

He placed his hand between her legs

and began rubbing her, one finger and then
two entering her womanhood and massaging
her. He couldn’t stop kissing her as he felt
his woman’s clit for the first time in half a
year. This was his woman, this was his clit,
and he felt as if he was going to wiggle it off
the way he couldn’t stop rubbing it, couldn’t
stop experiencing its rough edges, couldn’t
wait to taste its wetness.

He carried her into his bedroom, still

fondling her, still kissing her, still feeling
his penis press against her in a cry for re-
lease. He had dreamed of her, of her body
for so long that this felt so unreal. But he
didn’t think about it, he just felt it. This was
a bad move, he knew it was the worst move
he could possibly make. But what did they

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expect from him? How could he be expec-
ted to see the love of his life and not want to
be with her? Not want to make love to her
with a tenderness that captured their long
separation.

He laid her on his unmade bed and

swiftly removed his shirt over his head, toss-
ing it aside. Then he lifted her own blouse
over her head, removed her bra and skirt,
and began kissing and sucking her breasts,
one at a time, from one to the other, then
both nipples in his mouth, his hand on her
long neck as her head lobbed back in
anticipation.

He moved down her body to her wo-

manhood, his mouth so ready to taste her
that he had to slow his flow, that he had to
make sure he didn’t harm her. And when he
tasted her, when his mouth finally made its
way to her womanhood and he felt her
creamy perfection on his tongue, when he
inhaled that wonderful scent he still knew so

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well, his heart began to hammer. He didn’t
deserve this. He didn’t deserve to be so
close to wonderment after all the pain he’d
caused. But he couldn’t feel pain, not with
Trina laying and wiggling right in front of
him, her legs gapped open so wide, her wo-
manhood so ripe and ready. He couldn’t
feel anything but joy, but lust, but complete
love for this woman who was still his wo-
man and would always be his woman until
the day he died.

He stood up, dropped his pants, and

stared at her. She stared back, her eyes first
staring at his massive, stiff rod she still
knew so well, and then into his face. There
was pain in both their eyes, and anguish
about the moments after, but their love for
each other, their lust for each other’s bodies,
was all they wanted to handle right now.

Reno moved her further onto his bed,

got on it himself, and entered her. Her legs
were wide and lifted high up when he

361/385

entered her, when they both experienced his
stiff rob moving inside of her with a famili-
arity so sharp, so pronounced that both
found themselves making those sounds of
elation on entry.

Reno began sliding in and out, in a

rhythmic slide, his hands on either side of
her legs as he fucked her. But he needed to
feel her too, not just her pussy. He needed
to feel her. He leaned down on top of her,
wrapping her tightly into his arms, as he
moved in and out, in and out, feeling her
breasts rammed against his chest, her stom-
ach against his stomach, her body safe and
warm in his protective arms. Tears were in
his eyes as he fucked her. Because he loved
this woman. Because he wanted this wo-
man. Because he needed this woman.

Because he knew she didn’t need

him.

But even with that truth he couldn’t

stop making love to her. He couldn’t stop

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holding her tighter and tighter as his white
body melted into her black body and he
fucked her harder than he’d ever fucked an-
other human being before. He couldn’t stop
sliding in and out of her, in and out, his
rhythm increasing more and more, going
from a slow drumbeat to a wild, syncopated
pound. His lovemaking once prose, now
poetry. Her wetness and his wetness mesh-
ing together in loud, sexy splash sounds that
echoed throughout his once sleepy, now
fully vibrant and alive, house.

And he couldn’t stop pounding her.

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SIXTEEN

The morning after was like waking up

from a wonderful dream, and your eyes are
still adjusting, still attempting to focus, still
trying to believe that the dream is more real
than the reality facing you now. Reno was
the first to wake up and see the reality. He
was the first to realize that their all-night
lovemaking was all so in the moment, where
he fucked her while she was on her back,
and then was on her stomach, and then up
her ass. He couldn’t stop fucking her. He
couldn’t stop kissing her. He couldn’t stop
loving her. And then later when she gave
him an oral and he gave her an oral, they
started all over again.

But then they fell asleep, and the

harsh light of day arrived. Reno showered
while Trina still slept. He stood over her

naked, wanting to enter that ripe body of
hers again, knowing he couldn’t. Not while
she was still in dreamland. She gave so
much. He knew she was tired from trying to
run a place like the PaLargio, he knew how
stressful that could be. But she still gave her
all to him last night, allowing him to do her
over and over, and then, after only a few
minutes rest, doing him. Damn straight he
wasn’t about to wake her up. She probably
couldn’t even will herself to wake up yet.
Not yet. She wanted the dream to continue.

Reno sat at his small kitchen table

and sipped coffee, the Seattle Times open
but unread, as he looked out at the lumber-
yard; at the men in colorful hard hats carry-
ing metal lunch boxes clocking in for work;
as the loud saws began to shave and split.
He would normally be at work around this
time, reviewing yesterday’s receipts, prepar-
ing to open, reviewing inventories.

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But on this particular morning he

couldn’t care less about that restaurant. He
had his wife in his bed. A wife he never
planned to give up, but had decided he
couldn’t see again. It was unfair and un-
kind, but what could he do? He was no
saint. He was a very bad, selfish man. He’d
done very bad, selfish things in his life.
And his son’s death, a son he had only just
known even existed, paid the ultimate prize
for the sins of his miserable father.

And Tree. What pain and anguish

he’d caused her. Staying away from her
was the least he could do for her. Divorcing
her would be the ultimate selfless act, the
best he could do for her. But he was no
saint. That was asking too much.

Reno closed his eyes as the pain

pierced through him. He didn’t ask for any
of this. He had no beef with Frank
Partanna. Had never even met the man be-
fore.

Only knew him by name and

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reputation. But Partanna iced his father and
brother. What did they expect him to do?
Nothing? He had to fight back. His baby
brother Joey hadn’t done anything to that
sick bastard. Pop hadn’t either. He couldn’t
let a thing like that happen and he do noth-
ing about it. He just couldn’t do that.

And then to target his wife and to

kidnap and kill his son. What in the world
did they expect of him? He didn’t ask for
these fights, none of them, but when bullies
pushed him, he pushed back, and then
knocked them out. That was how he was
raised. That was all he knew how to be.
Then he caught himself. He was rationaliz-
ing again, trying to put lipstick on that pig,
and no matter how much he convinced him-
self that it wasn’t as bad as it looked, it still
looked bad.

“Good morning,” that wonderful

voice said and he thought he was in the fog
again, dreaming once again. Until he

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looked over near the kitchen entrance and
saw her, in one of his shirts, standing there.

He saw first her gorgeous brown legs

going up to his shirt, knowing that nothing
was underneath, knowing that she was still
wet and ripe from his pounding, and then he
saw that face. He knew it was no dream
when he saw her face. She looked angelic at
that moment, her dark skin so smooth to the
touch, her big, hazel eyes so expressive, so
loaded with emotion even when the last
thing she wanted to be was emotional. And
he loved her so much he could hardly catch
his breath. What in the world did they ex-
pect of him?

“Good morning yourself,” he forced

himself to say. “Sit down,” he said, rising,
“I’ll get you some coffee.”

Trina didn’t argue with him, she cer-

tainly needed something, and as they passed
each other they instinctively stopped, kissed
on the lips, and then continued their

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progression. She sat across from his seat at
the table and watched him stand at his drain
board and pour her a cup of coffee.

Her emotions were like a rag in her

throat. She could barely speak, could barely
breathe, could barely comprehend what last
night truly meant. They hadn’t done any-
thing but muddle the waters. They threw
sex back into the mix, just when she was be-
ginning to be able to live without his touch.
Now it would be impossible. How was she
going to leave him now? She was prepared
to in that restaurant. When he said he was
this awful person and she’d be wise to un-
derstand that, she kind of disliked him at
that moment in time. That was why she
cried. It was as if he had decided her life for
her, what she could have, and what she
couldn’t, and she didn’t like it. Who was he
to tell her what she could and couldn’t have?

He was Reno, that’s who, she thought

as she watched him, as his hair dropped

369/385

down along his forehead, as his muscular
arms still shone through his shirt, as his face
still tried to shield his pain when pain was
all she saw when she looked at him. Reno
was the most domineering force in her life,
and she knew that. No matter how she tried
to forget him, to separate her heart from his,
she couldn’t pull it off. She tried, with all
she had within her she tried. But she
couldn’t do it. She just couldn’t.

When he handed her the cup of cof-

fee, he lingered over her, watching her, but
she didn’t look up. She, instead, sipped her
coffee and watched the lumberyard across
the street. “Why here?” she asked as he fi-
nally sat back down.

“You mean the lumberyard?”

“The lumberyard, the isolation, all of

it. Why this dump?”

Reno smiled weakly. “It’s not very

polite to call somebody’s home a dump.”

370/385

Trina studied him. “So this is your

home now?”

Reno’s heart began to pound. “It’s

my home.”

“Your permanent home, Reno?”
“Don’t ask me that, Tree.”

“Well what do you want me to ask

you? I need to know. I can’t go on like this,
Reno. I haven’t seen my own husband in
six months, he hasn’t called me, he ask
about me third person, what is that? I’m
tired of telling people that I can’t make a de-
cision because I want you to make it when
you get back, and they look at me like I’m a
fool! I see their looks, I hear their sneers.
Jazz said some of them are calling me Delta
Dawn.”

Reno frowned. “Delta Dawn? Who

the hell is that?”

“It’s an old song, Reno. About this

middle-aged southern lady still waiting for
her long lost lover to return. And she’s

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pitiful. They call me Delta Dawn now,
Reno.”

Reno put his hand across his fore-

head. “You aren’t middle-aged,” he said.

His joke was so lame, so hurtful to

Trina that she stood to her feet. “Okay,
Reno,” she said, “it’s a joke. My pain is
funny to you.”

Reno began standing too, shaking his

head as he did. “No, Tree, you know I
didn’t mean it like that.” He took her by
her hand, and she just stood there. Like the
fool they said she was, she thought, she just
stood there. And to her disgust, the tears
returned.

“Oh, Tree,” Reno said, pulling her in-

to his arms, tears appearing in his own eyes.
“I just don’t know what to tell you.”

Her head was on his shoulder, her

eyes tightly shut. “Tell me you love me,
Reno,” she said, pain in her voice.

372/385

“You know I love you,” Reno said,

“what are you talking about?” He pulled her
back, to see her face, a frown piercing his.
“What are you talking about, Tree? I love
you. You know I love you. Don’t you?”

Trina played with the button on his

shirt, saw his broad chest, looked into his
eyes. And the doubt in those eyes of hers
stunned Reno. “How can you think I don’t
love you, Katrina? How can you think
something like that?”

“You left me, Reno,” Trina said.

“What was I supposed to think?”

Tears began to appear in Reno’s

stormy blue eyes. As he realized a truth.
Even in trying to help her, by leaving her, he
had hurt her even more. He was a bastard.
It was beyond question now.

“Oh, Tree,” he said with anguish as

he pulled her back into his arms.

And they stood there, in that tiny kit-

chen in that tiny house across from that

373/385

noisy lumberyard, and held each other.
Until Reno, panic in his soul, pulled back
again, to see her face.

“I love you with all of my heart, Kat-

rina Gabrini,” he said, his hands now on
each side of her face, his finger wiping her
tears away. “And don’t you ever forget it.”

Trina stared into his eyes, and just

like him, panic began to surge in her soul.
This was it. They both knew it was. “Are
you coming back to me, Reno?” she asked
him.

Reno closed his eyes, then opened

them back again, his pain undeniable. “I
can’t, Tree,” he said, anguish in his voice.

Trina nodded. Words were fine,

powerful even, but they were just words.

She pulled out of his arms and began

to leave the kitchen. He pulled her back.
“Tree,” he said, unable to stop his own tears.

“You’d better get to work, Reno. It’s

late. I’ll lock up after I’m gone.”

374/385

Their eyes met, but it was too painful

for either one of them to handle.

And he let her go.

375/385

EPILOGUE

She walked across the casino floor,

small-talking with Jeffrey Graham, speaking
to the hundreds of patrons packed in and
coming and going as the entire place was
wired with the excitement on a bustling Fri-
day night.

She made her way around corridor

after corridor until she was headed for the
Taffeta. She hated getting this call, and
would have avoided it if she could, but
somehow, deep inside of her, she knew it
would eventually come.

Karl Montana, the new manager of

the Taffeta, met her in the lounge and escor-
ted her to his office. Inside his office was
Jazz and Lee Jones. Lee was seated behind
the desk.

“Hey, boss, what’s up?” he said.

“Hello, Lee,” Trina said, her eyes set

on her old friend Jazz. “Hello, Jazz.”

“I’m glad you’re here, Tree,” Jazz

said. “These crackers trying to set me up.”

Trina frowned. “What crackers?

Lee?”

“Very funny. You know I know Lee

is black. Montana, that’s what cracker. He
been on my case since he been here. Lee
put in his mind that I was a fuck up and he’s
been trying to prove it’s true ever since. But
what he want from me? What that cracker
got against me?”

“Maybe the fact that his employee is

referring to him as a cracker?” Trina asked
calmly.

Jazz bristled. “I wouldn’t call him no

cracker if he didn’t act like one. He wanna
get rid of me and replace me with some
white girl, that’s what this is about. Mark
my words.”

377/385

“So his allegation is unfounded,

Jazz?” Trina asked, hoping against hope. “Is
that what you’re saying to me?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying! It’s

completely unfounded.”

“So earlier tonight you didn’t have

sex upstairs in one of my hotel rooms with
one of our guests?”

Jazz folded her arms. “This is a

witch hunt, that’s what this is.”

“Were you in one of those hotel

rooms tonight, Jazz, having sex with one of
our guests?”

“Yeah I was up there,” Jazz said defi-

antly and Trina’s heart dropped. Everybody
she let into her heart had let her down. She
was hoping Jazz would be different. “I was
on break,” Jazz continued. “I can do
whatever I wanna do on my break. Am I
wrong? Am I mistaken?”

378/385

“Stunningly so,” Trina said. “You’re

fired, Jazz. Effective immediately.” She
began to leave.

Jazz, stunned herself, stood to her

feet. “What are you doing, Tree? How can
you fire me? You gonna let this cracker
break up our friendship? How can you do
this? Tree! Tree! Trina!

But Trina was gone, through more

corridors, up to the private elevator, into the
elevator, to the penthouse. Her home.

As soon as she got inside, she wanted

to cry. A month ago, she would have cried.
But she didn’t think she had any more tears
left. Jazz had brought her downfall on her-
self. She had warned her, had urged her to
get her act together, but she didn’t believe it,
didn’t want to get it together, or just flat
didn’t care. In any of those scenarios,
however, Trina thought, she had sealed her
own fate.

379/385

Trina tried to forget about Jazz, to

sweep yet another disappointment under the
rug and go on with her life. But all she
thought about was Jazz.

She headed for the kitchen, grabbed a

bottled water out of the frig, opened it and
took a long swig. By the time she made it to
the bedroom, she was ready to crash the way
she usually did.

But the French doors that led to the

bedroom balcony were open. Trina knew
she was tired. She knew it had been a long
day in a string of too many long days. But
she hadn’t left any balcony doors open. She
knew that too. She never had time to so
much as remember that balcony, let alone
open its doors.

She hesitated, thought about going

for help, then thought again. It could be as
simple as the maid leaving the door ajar, or
something equally innocuous. Besides, she

380/385

felt a lot of things, a lot of emotions rushing
all through her, but fear wasn’t one of them.

She stepped through the French doors

cautiously, looking from the right, seeing
nothing, and then looking left and seeing, to
her shock although not to her surprise, her
husband. Seated on one of the loungers, in
shorts and an open shirt, nursing a highball.

Trina hesitated at first, and then

walked up to the rail, looked out over the
lively Vegas Strip, and then turned toward
Reno.

He looked surprisingly relaxed, she

thought, as if he’d been at the penthouse for
many hours and had made himself at home.
He also looked deliciously gorgeous. Cer-
tainly better than she had left him a month
ago in Seattle. He hadn’t looked at her yet,
but was looking forward. Which, she knew,
meant that he saw her far beyond mere
sight.

381/385

“You work too hard,” Reno said, still

staring forward.

“I have no choice. My husband used

to do the work of three men. I’m trying to
keep it up.”

“Why?”
“Why?”
“Why are you trying to keep it up?”

Trina swallowed hard. Here goes,

she thought. Truth. Now or never. “Be-
cause I want my husband to be proud of
me,” she said, and Reno quickly looked at
her, the intensity in his eyes stunning her.
But she kept going. “Because I want him to
know that I didn’t drop the ball. I want the
PaLargio, his baby, to be exactly the way he
left it when he comes back for it.”

Reno’s heart was pounding. “I’m

back, Tree,” he said, heartfelt.

Trina wanted to leap for joy. She

wanted to run into his arms and stay there
for the rest of her life. But she’d been

382/385

disappointed too many times before to take
that chance.

“Why?” she asked him, staring right

back at him.

Reno studied her, studied the strain

on her face, the tenseness he saw in her
frail-looking body. She was still losing
weight. She was still killing herself slowly.

“Why?” he asked her, turning her

word back on her, as she had done to him.

“Why are you back?” she asked.

He sat his drink on the side table,

stood to his feet, and walked up to his wife.

Trina immediately felt a rush of anxi-

ety at his nearness, at his wonderful mascu-
line scent, at his muscular bare chest. She
placed her hands on his chest. He placed his
hands on hers.

“Because I can’t live without you,”

he said, staring deep within the most beauti-
ful eyes in the world to him. “Because I’ll
die before I’ll allow you to think that I don’t

383/385

love you more than it’s possible for me to
love.

Because

you

have

it

wrong,

sweetheart.”

“I have it wrong?” Trina asked, the

tears she thought she no longer had to shed,
back.

“You got it wrong,” Reno said, wip-

ing her tears away. “The PaLargio is not my
baby. Not now nor ever will be. Because
you are. You are now and you always will
be. I love you, Katrina Gabrini. And don’t
you ever forget it.”

She was in his arms, and back com-

pletely in his corner, before his final declar-
ation of love could even be uttered.

Reno was back. That was all that

mattered to Tree.

384/385

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