Braden: A Dark Mafia Romance (12 page)

The light went out and the door slammed shut again.  I broke down.  I just couldn’t contain it any longer.  Nobody was coming for me except for the one with the most money to burn.  I would be raped, tortured, and eventually killed once Don Abrami was tired of torturing my father with images of my survival.  The door opened a lot throughout the day, but I didn’t even look at the men who came in and examined me.  They were all there for the same reason the Indonesian was there—to figure out how much money they were willing to pay for me.  I craved death.  It would have been so much better than what waited on the other side of my life.  When I had no more tears to cry, the door opened again and the lights went on.  Don Abrami was the only one who entered the room.  He took a seat and stared at me.

“You fetched a pretty good price, Ms. Madison.  I’ll be able to pay the Eight-Ballers for their services thanks to you.  That is a little poetic isn’t it?”  He laughed as he nodded.

“Fuck you…”  I looked up at him.  “I don’t know how, but I will watch you die you son of a bitch.”

“Ah, the fire still burns.  I was worried that you had already lost it.  The Indonesian will be pleased.”  He laughed again as he stood up.  “I can’t wait to hear you scream.”  The lights went out and the door slammed again.

Chapter 16:  Braden

The next day

I died and went to hell.  That was what I thought when I felt the heat.  It made sense after all, but I had hoped to see Mary’s face one more time before I was plunged into the devil’s furnace.  My body was still riddled with pain as I slowly opened my eyes and tried to focus.  The fire raged around me, building into an inferno and closing in.  I couldn’t hear anything but the crackling of the flames engulfing everything in the immediate area.  It was nothing but heat and smoke.  My lungs were already full and my body had nothing left to give.  I prepared for the death I thought I had already embraced.  I wasn’t dead yet, but it was right around the corner.  There just wasn’t enough strength left in my body to fight any longer.  I blinked a couple of times and then I saw something emerge from the flames.

“Mary?”  I asked as I tried to focus.

“Hello Braden, I’ve missed you.”  She replied in a voice that echoed.  She was bathed in an unnatural light, almost like a golden glow.

“Am I dead now?  Have you come to take me to the other side?”  I asked.  I don’t think words actually came out of my mouth, but it felt like I was saying it.

“No, my darling; your fight isn’t over.  You don’t get to die here.”  She reached her hand out towards me.

“Mary, there is nothing left in this world for me.”  I coughed.  “I can’t even move.”

“There is something left for you—or rather someone.  Angela needs you.”  She knelt down beside me and placed her hands on my arm.

“I’m so sorry I betrayed you by falling in love again.”  I said as I stared up at her beautiful face.

“Silly Braden.”  She laughed and shook her head.  “You didn’t betray me.  I’m gone now and you have to move on, but first you have to get up.”

“Mary… I…”  I closed my eyes again.

“GET UP!”  I heard her say loudly and it was enough to pull me out of my daze.

My eyes opened and I looked around.  The fire was everywhere and there was no sign of Mary.  I rolled over onto my elbow and tried to stand.  I knew that I wouldn’t even be able to stand, but by some miracle, I found the strength to crawl.  I dragged a blanket from the couch and threw it over me as I moved as fast as I could towards the kitchen.  I used the blanket as a shield to get through the worst of it and thankfully, the fire had not blocked the door.  I twisted the knob in my fingers and then I felt cool air as I fell outside the house.  I could hear sirens in the distance and I knew they would be there soon.  I crawled as far as I could until I made it to the high grass surrounding my father’s house.  I dug my cell phone out of my pocket and dialed the number of the person I thought I could trust—Stefano.  I knew he was bound to the same code I was, and he was closer to me than the Family.

“Stefano…”  I said through clenched teeth.  “I need you…”

“Braden?  What is going on?  Where are you?”  His voice was hurried.

“I’m at my father’s house.  Don’t tell anyone, just come get me.”  I slumped down against the ground and started to drag myself out of sight as I saw the fire engines arrive.

***

Stefano was a paramedic before Mary died and his grief pulled him into the Family.  I knew he could help me, and I could trust him.  He found me in the tall grass and managed to carry me far enough away from the fire that he could pick me up in his car without anyone realizing I was there.  I slumped down in his passenger seat with blood pouring from my wounds.  My hands were numb from the lack of circulation and the lack of oxygen.  I had no idea how I was going to explain everything to him, but thankfully he did not ask me any questions as he drove.  I had no idea where we were going and I was in and out of consciousness the whole way.  By the time he got me out of the car and hauled me into his safe house, I was barely hanging on.  I woke up a few hours later and felt some semblance of my strength return.  I tried to sit up slowly.

“Not yet, brother.”  He sat down and put his hand on my shoulder.  “Don’t move.”

“I’m alive…”  I said, partially in shock that I wasn’t waking up in hell.

“You shouldn’t be.  I thought I was going to lose you when I started pulling those slugs out.  I’m not a surgeon, so you’re going to have some scars.”  He shrugged.  “Sorry about that.”

“It’s okay…”  I tilted my head to the side so I could look at him. “You didn’t tell anyone did you?”

“No, but I hope you can tell me why I’m keeping this a secret from the Family.  Do you even know what happened today?  Angela’s father got shot and there is a citywide manhunt for her.”  He pulled his chair closer.

“Don Abrami betrayed us…”  I said with a ragged breath.  “He is working with the Eight-Ballers.”

“What?”  Stefano’s face flushed with confusion.  “He’s working with the Harlem trash?”

“He is responsible for everything.”  I blinked a couple of times.  “He ordered the hit on the restaurant the day Mary died…”

“That son of a bitch.”  Stefano stood up and I could see the rage igniting.  “Are you sure?”

“My father was involved as well.  Don Abrami had my father killed because he had a change of heart.”  I braced myself on the couch and tried to sit up.

“He had the Eight-Ballers shoot up the courthouse?”  Stefano tapped his head as he tried to process the information.

“Yeah…”  I nodded weakly.  “He also has Angela.”

“God damn it, Braden.  We put Don Abrami in power.  He united the Five Families after the Eight-Ballers attacked us five years ago.  We helped him become our Godfather…”  Stefano started to pace.

“Not for long.”  I forced myself to a sitting position.  “I’m going to kill that mother fucker.”

“Right now, you’re not doing a damn thing.  Let me make some calls.”  Stefano pulled out his phone and walked out of the room.

I could barely move, but I knew I had to get my strength back.  I looked over at the coffee table beside me and stared at the bullets Stefano had pulled out of my crudely stitched wounds.  Judging by the size of them, I was damn lucky that I wasn’t conscious enough to feel them being extracted.  He had sewn me up with quick, jagged stitches, but they would do the trick.  A syringe and a bottle of pain medication were nearby, so I assumed the weak feeling was a mixture of drugs and my loss of blood.  I was thankful for Stefano, and I knew I would need his help if I was going to save Angela from Don Abrami.  I had no idea where he took her; I just hoped she was still alive.  I turned on the television to see if there was any news, flipping through the channels until I saw a press conference with District Attorney Madison who was lying in his hospital bed.

“Rest assured, citizens of this great city.  The violence that was brought to our doorsteps today will not be tolerated.  The street gang that calls itself the Eight-Ballers will be the primary target of my office going forward, and I will not rest until New York City is safe.”  He struggled to draw breath and then the camera cut to a reporter, a brown haired woman in her thirties that I had seen on the news fairly often.

“Strong words from District Attorney Madison.  Angela Madison, who was on the courthouse steps with her father when this tragedy occurred, is still missing.  If you have any information…”  Before she could finish, Stefano walked into the room and I muted the television.

“Anything?”  I asked.

“Something is going down right now.  I talked with Nunzio and a few guys I know I can trust.  They said that Don Abrami is meeting with some of our business partners.  Quite a few big wigs are in town, including the Indonesians.”  He sat down on the couch beside me and stared at the television.

“Don Abrami doesn’t want anyone to know what he is doing.  He didn’t even have his personal detail with him when he was at my father’s house.”  I said with a sigh.

“When this comes out, the alliance between the Five Families will fall apart.”  Stefano looked over at me.

“The alliance was built on lies.”  I shook my head.  “We all believed he was a good man.”

Stefano looked down at his phone, which vibrated in his hand.  He answered it and walked out of the room again.  I let my head fall to the side, resting it on the side of the couch.  Undoing what we had spent five years building was going to leave our world in shambles, but I couldn’t live with the alternative.  I would have rather fought an honest fight against the other Families than an imaginary enemy created by Don Abrami.  I couldn’t believe had tricked everyone and used the Eight-Ballers as pawns.  I wondered just how high the corruption went in their infrastructure.  Their leaders were basically sending their own people to die at our hands just to keep the war going.  Don Abrami had to be paying them well to keep the charade going, but that kind of lost revenue would have been noticeable.  We laundered money, but we knew where it all went.  Every dollar had to be accounted for, which meant he had to have another way to pay them.

“That was Nunzio; he said that there is some activity at one of our warehouses outside the city.  Some of the guys think the investors might be meeting with Don Abrami there.”  He put his hands on his hips. 

“Did you tell him anything?”  I asked.

“No, I just told him I was checking in on things before I made my rounds tonight.  Do you think you can travel?”  Stefano looked down at me.

“Yeah…”  I nodded and tried to stand up, but collapsed back onto the couch.  “Fuck…”

“The pain medication is probably starting to wear off.  Let me give you another shot.”  He picked up the syringe.

“No.”  I shook my head.  “I can do this.”  I struggled with my own footing, but managed to get myself on my own two feet after a couple of attempts.

“Let’s go.”  Stefano handed me my gun and I tucked it into the back of my pants.

“What is that warehouse used for anyway?”  I stumbled and walked slowly behind him.

“I don’t know exactly.  I think it is one of the ones used to we rent out to that Indonesian freight company.  Back in the glory days we used it to store guns and drugs.”  He opened the passenger door on his car and I slid inside.

“Shit, Stefano.  I’m sorry about all the blood.”  His seats were covered.

“Don’t worry about it.  I’ll send you the bill when I get it cleaned.”  Stefano smiled and cranked up his car.

“You do that…”  I leaned my head against the window.  Every bump that we hit sent shooting pain through my body.

I said a silent prayer and vowed to find Angela.  Everything that was happening to her was my fault, and I had to set things right.  I wondered what kind of obstacles we would face at the warehouse.  I wasn’t in fighting shape, so I would have to rely on Stefano.  I hoped his rage over finding out what really happened to his sister was enough to give him the strength we needed and the heart to assassinate the head of our Family.  It was treason and it meant death, regardless of the circumstances.  We would have to make sure he went in a grave nobody could find and hope what Don Abrami was doing with the Eight-Ballers was so taboo he hadn’t dared to tell anyone else.  We could clean them up once he was gone and permanently sever their ties with our Family, but that would have to come later.  My only focus was finding Angela and making sure she was safe.

Chapter 17:  Angela

Somehow, I managed to sleep a little bit throughout what I perceived as night.  Every creak woke me up, but when I confirmed there were no footsteps, I drifted away again.  Trying to stay awake for the sake of avoiding sleep was pointless.  I was no longer in control of my own fate.  When I couldn’t sleep any longer, I lay awake in the darkness and let my thoughts get away from me.  I tried to come to terms with what the rest of my life would hold, as impossible as it seemed.  I envisioned myself withstanding the torture, never screaming, and never letting the Indonesian get satisfaction out of his purchase.  I knew that was silly—I wasn’t cut out for that kind of bravery.  I don’t know if days passed or hours, but I heard footsteps approaching.  The door opened and the light came on.  It nearly blinded me after being in the darkness so long.

“Today is your lucky day, Ms. Madison.”  Don Abrami grinned and then the Indonesian man entered the room.  “You get to see your family again.”

“My family?”  I muttered as the Indonesian’s strong hands lifted me.

“Yes.  Don’t you want to see them?  Your father is being released from the hospital today.”  Don Abrami pulled out a knife and sliced the zip ties holding my wrists and ankles.

“You’re letting me go?”  I asked cautiously.

“Come with me.”  Don Abrami unfastened the lock on my collar and the Indonesian started walking me towards the door.

I was taken from the warehouse as quickly as I was brought into it.  The car that was waiting on me was different from the one that had brought me to my temporary prison.  It was a black sedan with dark tinted windows; I was sure they were way too dark for regulation.  The Indonesian opened the back door and did a slight bow as he invited me to climb inside.  I looked at him apprehensively because everything about him sent a sinister chill through my spine.  I felt a push from behind from Don Abrami and I finally ducked under the top and sat down.  The door was slammed and then I realized I was in another prison.  There were no handles on the inside of the back door, and the front seat was separated from the back by perforated glass.  The Indonesian climbed into the driver’s seat and Don Abrami climbed into the back.