Page 30 of Bulletproof Baby
"Take my car home. Bring my kit to the Icebox. Post a two-man team at this address. Make sure no one else goes into her apartment." His voice is alert, his head turning side to side to look up and down the street before he walks around to get into the car beside me.
I don't know the man driving and I have no idea where Armande is. The front door to the house where I lived in a cozy apartment no longer looks like a place I can call home. My heart breaks as we drive into the night, across the Brooklyn Bridge.
The sights of New York City glisten. Lights from thousands of windows show signs of lives being lived. I wonder how many are in the middle of an attempted kidnapping or are having some of the most passionate sex imaginable.
My heart races as my mind floods with images of our moments before intruders interrupted our night. That's what I'm going to do. I'll replace the fear with memories of Valentino begging for me to drag my nails across his skin as he digs his thickness in and out of me. When I feel his hand on my thigh, the protection I've been yearning for washes over me. However, it's fleeting.
When the SUV comes to a stop, Valentino gets out to open the door for me. The night is still cold with a breeze blowing off the water. The FDR isn't far, and I can see the light coming from Frankie's apartment above the flower shop.
I can't deny the warmth and security I feel in Valentino's arms. He looks down at me, kissing me gently on the forehead.
"I promise, Lia. I'm going to get Saul Caputo out of your life, for good."
"I know," I tell him, leaning into his broad, muscular chest.
There's nothing else to say.
Valentino walks me to the door beside the shop's huge display window just in time for Frankie to open it. Sleep covers his face, yawning as I step inside. He closes the door after Valentino squeezes my hand to say a silent goodbye. I want him to stay but Valentino must head into the night, searching for answers.
14
VALENTINO
Fury and rage are the only words to describe the emotions building inside of me. Once Lia's inside, I wait for the sound of the deadbolt sliding into place. The door doesn't budge when I push against it with my shoulder. The frame is reinforced to ensure it doesn't go down under the pressure of someone's boot. There's a fire escape in the back of the building for a quick exit if necessary.
There's something bubbling just under my anger that nags at me. It's a lot to ask Lia to simply trust me after a few days together, but I want her to. I want her to lean on me, but this thing between us is new. I've never wanted someone so badly, and the most fucked up part about it is that I'm grateful to Saul Caputo. That doesn't stop me from wanting to kill him, but it's a weird sensation to have.
I take one last look at the door, knowing that I have enough people around to keep Lia safe and get back into the SUV. The driver is a soldier for the Barrone family. He's eager to make his bones, become a made man. As the don, I can't remember the last time I initiated someone into La Familia.
"Take me to the Icebox, Mateo," I tell the driver once we pull away from Frankie's apartment.
"Uh, I'm not sure where that is, sir," he answers hesitantly, peering into the rearview mirror with a hint of fear dancing across his face.
"Meatpacking District. Take 14th Street to the West Side. You know a place called Oscar's?" I ask him.
"Yeah. Small Italian joint on that street with cobblestones, right?"
"That's the one. Circle around to behind that building on 11th and drop me off."
"Yes, sir, Mr. Barrone." He nods.
It doesn't take long at this time of night to get where we need to go. By the time we arrive, Armande is standing by a metal door. It's army green and barely visible from the street. There aren't any businesses on this block. Just a dark street where most of the shops leave their trash. Armande opens the door for us to walk inside.
The Icebox is anything but cold. It's a three-story building my father bought decades ago. Dark lighting in the corners of the ceiling doesn't allow much to be seen as I follow Armande to a staircase that takes us into the basement where three men are bound by their wrists with ropes. They hang from meat hooks secured to the ceiling, a few inches above a plastic tarp covering the ground.
The adrenaline from fighting the first two is long gone. Yet, a new surge of energy courses through my body. My mind flashes to Lia, wondering if she's safe, but I can't linger over my thoughts. I put people in place to protect her and have to trust they'll do their job.
What's coming next has to come from a place where only darkness resides. Lia's a ray of light in my world. These assholes tried to take her from me.
The first one out of the three put up the biggest fight. He's about my height, but I outweigh him. He whimpers behind the duct tape binding his lips shut. He sways as Armande circles around him. My consigliere has a higher desire for violence than I do. He pushes the second intruder into the third just to watch them squirm in agony from their full body weight hanging with their wrists high above their heads.
A Barrone family soldier stands guard at the entrance of the staircase, ensuring our captives behave. Little do they know, they don't have much longer to live, but still, I need information. Armande enjoys this part of our work as he's more of a sadist.
I nod for him to begin.
Armande walks over to a button that lowers the first man to the point he has to kneel. His arms are still suspended above him, bound at the wrists and secured to the hook. The intruder's gaze darts around the room, panic washing over him as Armande snatches the tape off his mouth.
"Okay Asshole Number One, who do you work for?" Armande asks him.