Enforcer: A Prequel Novella to the New Mafia Trilogy (4 page)

For that job, Marco paid me five grand and I moved up closer
to his inner circle. So close that he invited me over to his house that year
for a Super Bowl party.

Marco lived two blocks over from Rico in a row home that
looked as nondescript as every other house on the street. I couldn’t find a
parking spot and after circling the block a few times, I found a space closer
to Rico’s house. I parallel parked my used Chevy Impala, an upgrade from my
piece of shit Honda, and walked over to Marco’s, zipping my leather coat up to
keep the bitter cold out.

The girl from Thanksgiving answered the door and I stood
like an idiot on the stoop staring at her. She wore skinny jeans that hung low,
hugging her hips and she had on a green Eagles jersey that was knotted at her
waist, revealing a glimpse of taut stomach. Her black hair was pulled up in
long pig tails that spiraled to a tight curl at the end, draping down past her
shoulders; a look that was sexy as hell on her and reminded me of cheerleaders
from high school.

          “Are you coming in or are you going to stand there
all day?” She asked, looking me up and down, her lips twisting up into a
playful smirk.

I smiled at her and stepped inside the small foyer.

          “I’m Grant,” I said and followed her down a
hallway towards the back of the house where loud voices could be heard. I
noticed McNabb on the back of her jersey before my attention was drawn to the
captivating sway of her hips.

          “I know.” She looked back at me, over her shoulder
and winked, her green eyes twinkling with amusement. “Do you know who I am?”

          “No, but I want to know everything about you.”
Okay, I admit, that was lame and I probably laid it on too thick, but the soft
laugh that line received, made any humiliation worth it.

          “Seriously?” she laughed again and shook her head.

We entered a den where Marco sat like a king in an
extra-wide white leather recliner. “Dad, Grant’s here,” the girl said.

Holy shit, this hottie was Marco’s daughter? She turned to
face me and winked again, the playful smirk was back. “Nice to meet you Grant,
I’m Miranda.”

For the second time that day, I stood in front of her
speechless. She probably pegged me as a complete jackass.

          “Miranda, go get us some more beers,” Marco
ordered. She rolled her eyes and moved past me to leave the room. I turned to follow
her.

Miranda spun around and put her hand on my chest, stopping
me. “What are you doing?” she asked.

          “Helping you – two sets of hands means twice as
much beer.”

          “Don’t.” She peered around my shoulder to look
into the room we just left. “They’ll think less of you if you help with the
women’s work,” she said in a quieter voice and she looked like she had tasted
something bitter when she mentioned the women’s work. “Go.” She physically
turned me around and sent me back in to the den. Seeing an empty space on the white
leather sofa next to Dominic, I sat down, sinking into the cushion. Dominic
shook his head at me and chuckled under his breath.

          “Good luck with that,” he said, gesturing towards
the kitchen, where Miranda had been dispatched. “Not only will Uncle Marco kill
you, but she’s out of your league.”

          “What do you know about it?”

Dominic snorted and turned his attention back to the game.
Miranda came back in with two six-packs. Our eyes met briefly when she set the
beer down on the glass coffee table. “Two hands, twelve beers,” she said with a
smile, revealing straight white teeth.

          “Miranda, move, we’re watchin’ the game here,”
Marco barked and just like that her smile disappeared and was replaced with a
scowl. She really wasn’t blocking the view since the flat screen television
practically took up an entire wall in the room.

          “You want to sit here?” I moved over closer to
Dominic to clear a space at the end of the couch, which earned me an elbow in
my side.

          “Nah, I need to run along and hang out with the
women folk.” She shot a look at her dad before leaving the room.

          “Ask your mother if the wings are done yet!” Marco
hollered after her.

          “Why? She probably already heard you!” She yelled
from the hallway and I heard her retreating footsteps on the hardwood floor. I
chuckled, impressed with how she gave it right back to Marco. I’d only seen
Rico and Al do that a few times.

          “So what’s up with Miranda – is she seeing
anyone?” I asked Dominic, keeping my voice down.

          “No friggin’ way am I telling you shit. She’s my
cousin and can do much better than you.” Dominic gave me a once over,
dismissing me like I was a piece of trash.

          “What the fuck’s wrong with you man? You’re always
such a dick.”

          “Hey, you two assholes,” Marco yelled across the room.
I looked over to see him glaring at us. “Shut the hell up.”

I sighed and sat back to watch the game. The score was close
going into the fourth quarter. The Patriots were up over the Giants by four
points.  Since the Patriots had defeated the Eagles in the 2005 Super Bowl,
Marco had placed a lot of money on the Giants winning and by the way he kept
tossing back beer, I could tell he was on edge. Dominic and I ignored each
other the rest of the night and I didn’t see Miranda again until that summer.  

Marco owned a house down the shore in Stone Harbor, New
Jersey and decided to throw a Fourth of July party. He needed enforcers there
to act as security and I was included. I was relieved to leave the city for the
long weekend. A heat wave had moved in and decided to stay. It was so hot and
humid I kept expecting even the skyscrapers to wilt.

I made plans to drive down with a fairly new enforcer who
was moving up the ranks. Joey D. was a huge fucker, almost as big as Anthony
“The Giant”. He didn’t say much, but was handy to have around since he could
usually lay someone out with one punch and possessed near sharp shooter skills.
We often went to the shooting range together, which ironically catered to law
enforcement, and his aim was dead on. I wasn’t an amateur with a gun, yet
looked like one in comparison to Joey D.’s precision.

From the brief conversations I’ve had with Joey D., he
revealed that his family had a long history with the Grabanos. His pops and
uncles grew up with Marco, Rico and Al. Joey D. had started picking up an odd
job here and there for “the family” when he was a freshman in high school.  A
brief stint in prison for aggravated assault set him back a few years, but he
had cleared parole in the spring and was ready to get back into the game.

I picked Joey D. up at his house on Eighth Street. It was a
typical brick two-story row home with an AC unit in every window. He was
sitting on the front stoop, his hulking form taking up the entire width. He
stood up and turned around to grab his duffle bag, revealing a sweat stain on
the back of his t-shirt that was the size of Texas and growing. When he
squeezed into my Impala, I could hear the suspension groan as the car shifted
under his weight. Sweat dripped off of the ends of his brown hair and perspiration
dotted his wide face.

          “How’s it goin’, Ross?” he asked, sliding the seat
back as far it would go.

          “It’s fucking hot. I’m ready to get out of here.”

He grunted in agreement. So I cranked the air conditioner on
high and pulled away from the curb.

Traffic was slow going as everyone seemed to be escaping the
city. Marco had already left for the shore, taking his cousins Telly and Big
Tony as protection. As we inched along Route 55 I wondered if Miranda was going
to be there. I imagined her already olive skin a shade darker and glowing from
the sun as she lay out in a bikini. Traffic moved at an agonizing pace after
that thought.

          “Hey Joey, what do you know about Miranda?”

Joey had been a silent passenger, mainly staring out the
window and tapping his fingers on his knee in time to the music. He smirked in
response to my question and shook his head. “Are you stupid enough to be
interested in the boss’ daughter?”

          “It’s just a question.”

          “Marco’s got his hands full with her. He likes all
of his women to be submissive, daughter included.”

          “Yeah, I noticed.” I remembered the glare Miranda
had directed towards her dad at the Super Bowl party. I had the feeling then
she was just toeing the line of obedience. I was surprised to hear the
admiration in Joey D.’s voice when he was talking about her. “Do you know
Miranda well?” I asked.

          “We kind of grew up together. She hangs out with
my sisters a lot. Rand is smart too. She tutored one of them in high school –
math, I think.”

Joey didn’t reveal anymore and lapsed back into silence. I
spent the rest of the drive hoping Miranda was going to be at the shore so I
could get to know her a little more.

We circled past Marco’s beach house, which took up two lots
on a road that ended in a cul de sac. He lived on a small peninsula and the
back of the house faced Pleasure Bay.  Other homes of the same McMansion size
crowded the street, not one square foot of real estate went to waste. I parked
further down the road; my used Impala with a dent in the hood stood out amongst
the luxury cars like a rotten tooth in an otherwise perfect smile.

The front of the house was shaded by a large maple tree and
some sort of purple flowers lined the shell pink flagstone driveway. The house
was bordered by a white fence, a closed gate shut off access to the back. From
the music and loud voices coming from behind the house, it sounded like the
party had already started even though the holiday wasn’t until the next day.

We walked up the flagstone walkway. Marco’s house was constructed
of dark gray stone and had white trim. Hanging baskets of flowers swung in the
light breeze from the ceiling of the small porch. Joey and I both had to duck
underneath them to avoid hitting our heads. I knocked on the door then took a
step back.

Telly answered the door, his bald head practically glowing
from the sun streaming in behind him through a large plate glass window. He
stepped aside and let us in, craning his neck to peer up and down the street
like he was checking to make sure we weren’t followed. This guy took his job a
little too seriously.

Paulina, Marco’s wife, greeted us with a cocktail in her
hand. She teetered on high heeled sandals and showed us to the guest room Joey
and I would be sharing. The room was on the first floor next to a bathroom and
the laundry room. It contained two twin size beds that would have been small
when I was fifteen. Apparently a good night’s sleep wasn’t in our future.  We
each set our bags on the beds and followed Paulina’s flaming red hair past the
kitchen and into an entertainment room.

Rico’s wife was sitting on a white sofa next to her
daughter, Eva, watching a movie. She nodded at me as we walked through the room
on the way to the back door. The brief respite provided by the central air was
interrupted when Paulina slid open the glass door and we stepped out onto the
deck into a wall of humidity, the moisture in the air more pronounced by the
sparkling bay waters that stretched out before us.

Marco held court on the deck in a chaise lounge. He wore
bright red swim shorts and had his signature tumbler of scotch in his left hand
while he wildly gesticulated with his right. His hairy chest glistened with
sweat and as I got closer, noticed his equally hairy back was just as sweaty. I
made a silent wish that my body hair didn’t stage a revolt like that.

Rico and Al sat on each side of Marco in deck chairs. They
too were in swim shorts, but they didn’t sport   round bellies like their
brother. Rico was the tallest of the three brothers and the most in shape. Al
was on the skinny side and while he didn’t have a pelt like Marco, it was
pretty close. It was like his beard kept going from his chin to his chest. I
usually saw these men fully clothed so it was quite the sight to get used to.

          “Grant, Joey, ‘bout time you showed up,” Marco
gestured for us to join them. Just the short walk across the deck was enough to
make my shirt stick to the sweat on my back. The holster clipped to the waist
of my jeans rubbed uncomfortably against damp skin. My gun added to the chafing,
the steel no longer cool, just a heavy presence. Marco’s orders were that we
came armed. Apparently he had a business deal go south, in addition to the feud
with the Kings. In the short time I worked for the family, I’d learned that
Marco was good at pissing people off. The man had been shot at four times and
walked away without a scratch. Stories like that made the man a legend. After
being briefed by Marco, Joey D. and I took up our positions. Joey maintained a
presence by the single gate and my post was down by the boat dock.

Just as the sun was setting a boat rumbled its way across
the bay towards the house. I could make out shapes of four people, but it was
hard to see who since the sun was almost directly behind them on the horizon. 
I reached behind my back, unsnapped the holster, and pulled out my gun. 
Releasing the safety, I kept the weapon at my side, ready to use if necessary.

The boat was tan with an aqua stipe and as it approached the
dock, I recognized the driver standing behind the wheel. It was Miranda and just
like I fantasized, she wore nothing but a white bikini. My mouth went dry at
the sight of her tanned curves so openly exposed.

Another woman sat on the sun deck that took up the front
section of the boat and she wore a silver bikini. She had her head thrown back
as she was laughing at something. I recognized the two guys who were onboard
with them. Miranda’s cousins, Dominic and Dante, busied themselves with tying
the boat up to the dock once Miranda had pulled alongside it, expertly
maneuvering the boat without bumping against the platform. She cut the engine
and smiled at me before turning away to grab her beach bag.

Dominic exited the boat first followed by Miranda and her
blonde friend. Dante picked up the rear, completing a protective formation I
was familiar with. As Miranda walked past she smiled at me again, which I was
quick to return this time. Her friend looked me up and down appreciatively
before leaning in close to Miranda and whispering something in her ear. Both women
giggled and quickly climbed the stairs to the deck.

The sun set and stars stretched out as far I could see until
they disappeared into the dark expanse of ocean. Lights from homes lining the
bay reflected on the water and a faint glow on the horizon in each direction
indicated the next shore town. Waves lapped against the dock and I leaned on
the railing at the bottom of the stairs leading to the deck. Aside from a few
breaks, I had maintained this post and my stomach started to rumble when I
caught the scent of grilled meat carried on the light breeze. Moments later
Miranda appeared with a plate piled up with food. There were two cheeseburgers,
a hot dog and a handful of chips.

          “Here, Grant, my mom thought you might be hungry.”

          “Thanks.” I took the plate from her and sat down
on the bottom step. To my surprise, she sat down next to me and pulled out two
cans of beer from the front pocket of her hoodie. She had changed into denim
shorts that didn’t cover much more than her bikini.

          “Aren’t you bored?” she asked.

          “Nah, it’s nice to see that stars again.”

          “True, everything is so much clearer out here.”
She popped open her beer and leaned back with her elbows propped on the step
behind us. Balancing the plate of food on my knees, I opened my can, draining
half in three big gulps.

I was very aware of Miranda sitting next to me; from her
coconut scented hair to the warmth her body seemed to radiate. When she
stretched her toned legs out in front of her, I noticed she was barefoot. I
loved this natural look and how she felt comfortable enough around me to relax.
We didn’t talk. Miranda zoned out on the stars while she finished her beer and
I watched her in between bites of food.

          “Like what you see?” She turned to face me,
catching me staring.

          “Yeah, I do.” We continued to regard each other
and I noticed her chest rising and falling a little faster than usual. It
matched my increased heart rate. The moonlight danced off of her hair and she
looked up at me through thick eyelashes. My gaze lowered to her lips, which
parted slightly when she realized where I was looking.

We moved towards each other and I couldn’t stand it anymore
so I set my plate down and wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her close,
close enough to kiss her.  I claimed her mouth with mine and she didn’t resist.
Instead she went soft and leaned into me, circling her arms around my neck,
burying her hands in my hair. She opened up to me and I slipped my tongue in
between her lips. Miranda moaned and returned the kiss with equal fervor. I was
very aware of her body pressed against mine, all softness and femininity. She
grabbed a fistful of my hair and tugged, forcing our kiss to deepen. At that
moment I was so hard it took all of my willpower not to lay her back against
the steps and fuck her. Fortunately, not all logic and reasoning ceased to
exist with my hard on as it occurred to me that Miranda deserved better
treatment and more respect. I didn’t just want to fuck her like some
unimportant piece of ass. With this realization, I slowed the pace down, taking
my time memorizing her petal soft lips. Cupping the side of her face, I ran my
thumb over her cheek, savoring silky smooth skin still warm from the day spent
in the sun. Our tongues moved against each other, tasting and testing. Miranda
ran her hand up my thigh and it was my turn to moan. Just as I brushed against
her breasts, the stairs started to vibrate and footsteps thudded down towards
us. We broke apart, but not in time to go unnoticed. Dominic was coming down
the stairs. He was holding Miranda’s friend’s hand, towing her along behind him.

          “Well, what’s going on here?” Dominic said with a
smirk and Miranda’s friend giggled.

          “None of your business,” Miranda fired back,
smoothing down her hair before standing up.

          “Yeah I bet. Pretty ballsy, Grant, since Uncle
Marco would have your balls for dinner if he caught you two.” The warning tone
in his voice was unmistakable. I hated him for the reminder that I had just
been touching the untouchable. Dominic continued onto the boat with Miranda’s
friend happy to follow. When they reached the part of the dock that was
swallowed up by shadows, Miranda looked at me with some unspoken emotion
shining in her eyes. Was it regret or disappointment? I hoped for the latter.

          “I should go,” she said softly before bending down
to pick up the paper plate and beer cans. Without another word she started to
move up the stairs.

          “Wait.” It took two steps for me to catch up to
her. She turned to face me, taller now since she was on the stairs, but she
still had to tilt her head to look at me. Cupping her face, I drew her towards
me for another kiss. She didn’t resist and parted her lips like before. The
paper plate was crushed between us when we pressed together and the beer cans
fell out of her hand, clattering onto the wooden steps.