Trapped in his End Game (Series)

Vince knows that something’s wrong when we drive back to Brooklyn to drop his mother off, but he can’t say anything in front of her. He gives me suspicious looks as he drives back, and I smile half-heartedly like nothing’s amiss.

The truth is that I’ve overheard way too much for my own good, and I’ve already connected the dots in the five minutes following that conversation in the basement. I wish I was too stupid to understand what they were talking about, but it’s really not that hard to put it all together. Vincent put Silvio in the hospital, beating him so badly that he “may not walk again” and now he’s paying the consequences. And I was threatened in retaliation, but that’s not the part that scares me.

What scares me is that the Vittorio boss doesn’t trust me. Perhaps he doesn’t approve of my whole arrangement with Vince.

Fuck.

“Bye Adriana!”

I twist my head around as she leaves the car. “Sorry-bye!”

The door shuts and Vince gives me another one of his cutting looks. I try to remind myself that he loves me. He would never hurt me.

Right?

Even though I’ve accepted the darkness inside him, I still find myself wondering whether I really trust him.

“How much did you overhear?”

It’s like he can read my thoughts. I look at him, stunned as he continues to look forward.

Crap.

“Overhear? Overhear what?”

He gives me a bored look. “C’mon, Adriana. You’re a bad liar. Let’s skip the part where you pretend you didn’t sneak up on us in the basement.”

“I didn’t sneak up on anyone,” I say in a heated voice, abandoning all pretenses. “You were the ones talking out in the open.”

“You have a knack for accidentally walking in on business you’re not supposed to know about.”

My face drains of blood, but Vince’s looks unruffled. I notice that we’re heading towards his place, and not mine. “We’re going to your house? I thought you needed to drop me off?”

“Change of plans,” he says in a gritty voice. “I need to strip search you for a wire.”

“Not funny,” I say when he laughs.

When we’re finally in his apartment, locked in that cold silence, I let myself breathe. Vince’s hands are all over me, claiming my body, but my mind’s still pounding with what I heard. The darkness grins at me when Vince lifts his head.

“What’s wrong?”

I search him. “Do you love me?”

“Of course, I do.”

Still there’s that unsettling feeling in my gut. I believe that he believes he loves me. The way that he holds me, talks to me-it’s like I’m his drug. I know he’s mine.

“I’d never do anything to hurt you. Ever.”

He pulls back, smiling. “Why are you saying this all of a sudden?”

“I heard a lot of things I didn’t want to know.”

Hard fingers massage the back of my neck. “You can’t let that stuff bother you.”

“How can you say that when your boss doesn’t trust me?”

Vince doesn’t seem to be listening. He unzips the back of my dress, kissing my neck and shoulder as the dress slips down. His lips and tongue provide my skin with instant heat, electricity shoots down my body. My fingers dig into his scalp and I feel like a hopeless slave.

“Vince.”

He stops and sweeps my hair from my face. “Baby, I promise you that you have nothing to fear from him.” His soft lips fall over mine, briefly touching. “Or me.”

A siren wails outside, the sound growing like a drawn-out scream before it lowers to a plaintive wail. Inside the back of the deli store, there are only two tables and I’m overdressed. The cheap, green carpet scuffs my heels. I inhale sharply as if it’s too stuffy inside. With five people in the room, it feels crowded. Hard to breathe.

I don’t like it.

Nicky stands near the door, vetting people in by looking through the peephole. It’s a much smaller operation than I’m used to. Only three guys from Vince’s outfit are inside to guard us. The players are of a much lower caliber. From the states of their shabby clothes, they look like chronic gamblers who can barely afford to sit in the game. I’m not really hopeful about tips, but everyone seems nice enough and every little bit they tip me helps.

We’re playing Texas Hold’Em, and the current pot holds about two thousand dollars. The man on my left keeps raising the bet. A disheveled looking man in his forties clenches his teeth together, because his pile of chips is dwindling. The final card completes the river and everyone shows their cards. He has a full house and everyone groans as he rakes in his chips. I smile at him, happy that he won the round.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Nicky patting his suit for his weapon. The blinds crinkle as he slips a finger through them and looks.

BAM.

I throw the cards in my hands as the door is kicked wide open. Men dressed in black burst inside, screaming.

“Nobody fucking move!”

It’s happening again.

Everything fades away to a dull murmur as I see them burst through my house.

“Please don’t! Don’t hurt him!”

I think I’ve been knocked on the floor, or maybe I’m clutching the legs of the felt table as male voices scream in my ears.

“Give us your fucking money!”

A sardonic voice answers him. “This is a low-level game, guys.”

The sound of something being thrown on the floor. “You heard what he said. Shut the fuck up and fill it!”

My dad. They’ve got my dad by his throat and my body fills with lead, because I know what’s going to happen. I’m powerless to stop it.

“Don’t kill him!”

My legs take me in front of him. I can almost feel my bare feet on the cold wooden floors, even though I know I’m curled up under the table with my head buried in my arms, shaking like a leaf.

“Fucking bitch! I told you to give me your purse or I’ll put a bullet in your fucking head!”

The voice bellows right into my ear and I cringe away from it, not knowing what’s real and what’s not. My chest is so incredibly tight that I can’t draw breath, even though I try hard. It’s like trying to breathe through a straw. My limbs are frozen. I open my eyes and I see dirty carpet. I can feel something hard digging into my head.

“You guys know who you’re robbing?” Nicky’s voice asks.Còntens bel0ngs to Nô(v)elDr/a/ma.Org

“I SAID SHUT THE FUCK UP!”

It digs into my skull.

“Hurry the fuck up, bitch!”

A boot suddenly kicks out, connecting hard with my ribs. It knocks the air out of my lungs and my body flips over. I see a masked man leaning over me. I’m staring into the nozzle of a gun. Swift, speeding death is right in those two black holes, seconds away.

The purse is near my hand. Just give him the fucking thing. It seems like such a simple action, but he’s screaming in my face and I can’t move a muscle. There’s nothing but terror squeezing the life out of me.

A door opens suddenly-the bathroom. One of the players emerges. The noise startles one of the gunmen and he swings his 20-gauge shotgun. The blast seems to slam into my ears, shattering my hearing. I open my mouth and noise comes out, but I can’t hear it. There’s more gunfire. CRACK. CRACK. I’m lying on the carpet, my ear against the carpet as my whole body convulses with the shots. Their legs run as bags of cash bounce on their thighs.

“FUCK!”

A harsh cry of pain makes me jerk my head. I see Nicky rolling on the floor, holding his leg, which has been shot. The door bounces open and strewn in the room I see at least two bodies.

Save him. Help him.

I see myself getting up, running to the bathroom to get towels that’ll slow the bleeding. From above, I watch as I wrap them around his leg and he asks me if I’m all right, but I can’t speak. I’m not even in my own body.

“Call Vince,” he says. “Do it!”

Blood is soaking through the towels and I watch as one of the guard returns. “We got one of them, Nicky.”

“Take the car. Get rid of the body, now,” he says in a strained voice. “We need Vince over here. Adriana!”

He yells, his round face ugly and violent. Finally, I see myself standing up and walking calmly towards my discarded purse. It’s then that I notice my hands are completely covered in Nicky’s blood.

Fuck.

Fuck.