Enforcer: A Prequel Novella to the New Mafia Trilogy (8 page)

My mom chose that moment to interject, “I’m still
disappointed too. You were so close to graduating, Grant, what’s so special
about this job? I will never understand.”

          “It’s good money, Mom.” I turned away, ending the
conversation. “Hey Nat, what else do you have?”

          “There’s a hamper in the trunk full of stuff and
that’s it.” I left to go get it, ready to be out of the hot, crowded room that
was suddenly suffocating. When I first told my mom that I was dropping out of college,
she was quiet. Then she got pissed. Then she blamed Natalie since I offered to
help pay for her school.

I was just shutting the trunk door when my phone buzzed.
Setting the hamper down on the sidewalk, I fished my cell out of my pocket and
saw it was Miranda calling.

          “Hey, everything okay?” I asked.

          “Yeah, I was wondering if you can you pick me up
for work tonight? My car won’t be ready until tomorrow since the shop didn’t
have the right tires in stock.”

          “Yeah sure,” I looked at my watch, a Tag Hauer and
one of my first extravagant purchases. It was already almost four and I had yet
to shower and was beginning to stink. We made arrangements for me to pick her
up at six. I hurried inside the sweltering building with Natalie’s stuff and
didn’t bother waiting for the elevator, taking the steps two at a time. I was
dripping sweat by the time I made it to her room.

Chelsea and her family had left so it was just Nat and our
mom. The room was silent except for the sliding and slam of dresser drawers as
Nat angrily put her clothes away. My mom stood by the single window with her
arms crossed, staring down at the street below. A slight breeze blew through
the room, cutting some of the tension.  

          “I have to go get ready for work,” I said.

          “What?” Natalie slammed a drawer and spun to face
me. “I thought we could have dinner together, mom is driving back to York
tonight.”

          “You are?” I asked.

She looked away from the window, but didn’t move. “Yes, I
can’t afford a hotel room in this city. Besides, Natalie doesn’t need me.”  She
sniffed and starting staring out the window again.

Natalie rolled her eyes at the guilt-laced jab and proceeded
to fold a pale blue sweater she had pulled out of a suitcase.

“Mom, I can get you a hotel room. I know a couple of the GM’s
around here. I’ll make some calls,” I offered.

She turned her head, studying me with narrowed eyes, taking
in my clothes which clearly weren’t from Goodwill like the clothes I wore
growing up. “Did you meet these people through your fancy job – a job you think
is more important than getting a college degree? I can see your sister doing
something irresponsible like that, but not you.”

That was it. She was never going to let it go. I was doing
the best I could and had been since I was eight years old. For her to demean
Natalie, well, that wasn’t happening on my watch anymore. A part of me felt
guilty for not being there for my sister as she finished high school and that
fueled my anger because I shouldn’t have to feel that way.

          “Do you really want to talk about
irresponsibility?” She flinched and took a step backwards. “Let’s talk about
what a fucking spectacular parent you were for us. You haven’t earned the right
to criticize our life choices.”

I glanced back at Natalie and she stood with her mouth
hanging open. The blue sweater she had been folding lay in a pile on the floor at
her feet.

After a few moments, my mom shook off my outburst and
launched her defense. “I’m the only parent you have. Be grateful I stuck
around, unlike your deadbeat father.”

          “Will you still be blaming dad twenty years from
now when we’ve moved on and you’re                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                    all
alone? Let go of the hate Mom, that shit’s not right.” I turned away from her
and said goodbye to Natalie. “I’ll catch up with you tomorrow. We’ll hit Target
for anything else you need.”        

I knew it was wrong of me to leave Natalie, especially after
basically agitating a hornet’s nest, but I didn’t want to be late picking up
Miranda. I wanted her to know she could rely on me. “Fuck!” I yelled and
slammed the palm of my hand against the steering wheel when I realized Natalie
relied on me and I had just let her down.  I debated going back inside, but
then noticed the time. I turned the key in the ignition and was getting ready
to pull away from the curb, when I saw Chelsea walking down the sidewalk toward
the building. She must have seen her parents and brother off as she was alone.
Rolling the passenger side window down, I called to her.      

          “Nice ride, Grant,” Chelsea said as she leaned in,
her arms draped across the inside of the window. Her blond curls were stuck to
her flushed, sweaty cheeks. “Are you leaving already?”

          “Yeah, I have to work. Can you do me a favor?”

          “Sure. What’s up?”

          “Mom is being, well, mom and I feel bad about not
hanging out to run interference. Are you going be around tonight?”

Chelsea was Natalie’s best friend and a rock in her life.
There were many times when Natalie ran away from home and went straight to the
Reed’s. Chelsea also knew exactly how hard my mom could be. Her hesitation
surprised me and when Chelsea began chewing on her bottom lip, I became
concerned she was going to tell me she had other plans.

Suddenly she laughed and flashed me a goofy grin. “Ha! I
couldn’t pull that off any longer. Of course, I’ve got Nat’s back. Your mom is
leaving tonight anyway, I’ll help with damage control.”

I shook my head, wanting to strangle her for the theatrics,
but that was Chelsea. “Thanks, I gotta go.”

Chelsea stepped away from the car and waved as I drove off.
At least now I didn’t feel so bad about leaving things the way I did. I’d make
it up to Natalie.

Just as I was pulling into a primo parking spot, my phone
rang and Crimson’s number came up on the display. I quickly parked before
answering.

          “Yo Grant, you need to get down here.” Joey D.’s
voice rumbled in my ear.

          “Why, what’s going on?”

          “Some fuck or fucks broke in and trashed the
place.”

          “What?” I yelled and for the second time that
night, slammed my hand against the steering wheel causing the horn to chirp.
“Jesus Christ, I’ll be there as soon as I pick up Miranda.” I hung up the phone
and jumped out of the car. I was in back in less than ten minutes after
managing to shower, brush my teeth and throw on clean clothes. My dark gray
dress shirt had a few wrinkles, but fortunately they smoothed out once I put it
on.

I called Miranda on when I was on my way to give her a heads
up about what we were walking into.

          “I’m calling my dad,” she said. “See you in a few
minutes.”

Traffic was a bitch and Miranda was sitting on her front
stoop waiting for me. As soon as I pulled up, she ran down to get in the car.

          “My dad is meeting us there and he is pissed.”

Great, I thought to myself and my balls tensed up at the
memory of Marco’s gun pressed against them.

          “We secured the club last night and I watched you
set the alarm.”

          “I know and the alarm company didn’t call me.”

          “Or me,” I said. Both of our names and numbers
were on the emergency contact list for the alarm company.

          “Do you think?”

          “It’s someone who works with us? Yeah, that’s a
real possibility.”

          “Shit.” Miranda slumped in her seat as if she
deflated. “Who, though?”

          “Oh, I’ll find out. Don’t worry.”

The employee parking lot was half full and Marco’s black
Cadillac was near the rear entrance. Miranda and I walked into the kitchen
where no vandalism had occurred. The stainless steel counters and appliances
were practically spotless and the white tile floors had a mirror shine. We went
through the double swinging doors into the main part of the club where the
smell of alcohol made my eyes water. Lighting was dimmer in here and our
footsteps muted from the carpet. We came to a stop at the top of a small flight
of stairs that led to the main floor and Miranda gasped at the devastation
stretched out before us.

Broken bottles and glasses blanketed the floor and tops of
the black granite bar counters in glittery bits. All of the plush sofa and
booth cushions were shredded, the stuffing trailed out like entrails. Even the
bar stool seats were ripped apart, some torn completely off. Whoever did this
had gone so far as to rip the low hanging lights that hung over the bars, where
they now dangled at crooked angles from loose wires.

There was no way in hell we were going to be able to open to
the public. It was Saturday night too, our biggest moneymaker.

I looked over at Miranda to gauge her reaction. Her hands
were clenched up in tight little fists and her cheeks flared red. Her back was
ramrod straight and she was shaking. At first I thought she was crying, but
when I leaned in to check, saw pure fury blazing in her green eyes instead.

          “Why would someone do this?” She asked, her voice
trembling with anger.

          “If it was someone on the inside, they’re a
fucking moron. I don’t see your dad accepting any explanations and he isn’t
exactly a forgiving guy.”

          “No, you can’t be forgiving when you’re in his
position. Someone will pay for this.” Miranda strode down the stairs and
carefully picked her way across the floor, avoiding the areas with a lot of
glass like she was navigating a mine field. Her progress was marked by
crunching underfoot. Marco’s voice echoed out across the dance floor to our
left from the VIP section. He was standing by the railing that overlooked the
club and talking on his cell phone. Rico, Al, Marco’s cousin, Big Tony, and
Joey D. were sitting around a booth. Marco hung up the phone when we
approached.

          “I have a clean-up crew on the way, Grant, we’re
keeping this shit internal. I don’t want to deal  with cops or the fuckin’
insurance company. You and Joey D. are going to go through all of the camera
footage. I need to know who the fuck did this.” He swung his arm out, gesturing
at the destruction, the movement causing his jowls to shake. “They’re fucking
with my business,” Marco turned his attention back to me, “I’m trusting you to
find out who is responsible.”

          “Yes, sir. I’m on it. Joey, come with me.” I
called over to my second in charge of security. He extracted his hulking form
from the booth and walked over. We left to go to my office. As we were walking
away, I heard Marco tell Miranda she needed to call the staff and let them know
not to come in. Marco was calling in favors to have the furniture and booze
replaced. He wanted to make sure Crimson was only closed for one night.

As soon as we were in my office with the door closed behind
us, Joey asked, “You think it’s someone who works here?”

          “Yeah, I do. I was with Miranda last night and
watched her set the alarm so I know it was activated.”

Joey raised an eyebrow and smirked. “You were with Miranda
last night, huh?”

          “Dude, not like that.” I laughed and shook my
head. I proceeded to fill Joey in on the rumblings Marco had heard about
someone targeting Crimson, but he didn’t know who. “We need to keep our eyes
and ears open. Let’s keep it between you and me until we know more. It could be
anyone.” Joey agreed and we each pulled up a chair to review the security
tapes. The main focal point of my office were the six monitors mounted on the
wall above the desk. Cameras were set up at the front and back doors, the
loading dock, the entrance to the parking lot the valet company used, and at
the corners of the building. All footage was stored online through a secure
cloud site. The chair squeaked when I leaned forward to log in.

We started going through the footage, focusing on the entry
points to Crimson, and about two hours in, we got lucky.

We were clicking along, going frame by frame when a figure
appeared at the rear entrance. The time stamp was 5:04 a.m. Based on the build,
I guessed the person was a man. He was wearing jeans and a plain gray hoodie
that was pulled tight over his face. He kept his head down and a baseball cap further
obstructed the view, preventing identification. I zoomed in and enhanced as
much as possible, before the image became too pixilated, looking for any lead.
Hitting play with the speed slowed down to a crawl, Joey and I watched as the
guy used a key to open the back door and that’s when I saw something and
quickly hit pause.

          “Do you see that?” I asked Joey, pointing at the
enlarged image.

Joey leaned forward, squinting at the monitor. “Son of a
bitch,” he said.

We were staring at tattooed fingers and there was only one
person who worked at Crimson with the word “Pain” inked across the knuckles of
their left hand. It was bad enough this guy was in fact a Crimson employee, but
he was one of my bouncers and one of Uncle Marco’s cousins. Shit just got a
whole lot more complicated.

          “What the fuck?” Joey asked.

          “Honestly, I didn’t think it would be this easy
and who the hell knows why Mike did this. I’d be surprised if Marco gives him a
chance to explain.” I printed out a copy of the screenshot and grabbed the
paper. “Come on, let’s go break the news.”

Mike Torino wasn’t Marco’s cousin by blood, but by marriage
and as a favor to Paulina, Marco’s wife, the amateur MMA fighter was given a
job at Crimson. He was a cocky, obnoxious prick, but we tolerated him and he showed
up on time to do his job without any issues.

Marco and his brothers were back in the VIP area while the
clean-up crew was busy shoveling up debris and tossing it into small dumpsters.
Joey stood off the side while I approached Marco. A bottle of scotch was in the
center of the table and each of the men had a tumbler in front of them.
Apparently not all of the glasses in the club had been broken.

I set the picture of Mike down in front of Marco.

          “What’s this?” Marco asked, looking up at me with
glassy, bloodshot eyes. “Is this the motherfucker?”

          “Yeah,” I ran my hand against the back of my neck,
debating how to tell Marco and decided being direct was the best approach.
That’s how he operated, he didn’t hold back. “It’s Mike Torino.”

          “Mikey? Ya serious?” Marco picked up the paper and
studied the image. I pointed at the tattoo and he slammed a hand down on the
table with a forceful smack that caused scotch to slosh around in his glass.
“That fucking son of a bitch!”

 Rico was next to study the picture and his lips formed a
thin line as he shook his head in disbelief.

          “What do want us to do?” I asked.

          “Find him and bring him to the plant. Let me know
as soon as you have him,” Marco instructed. I looked over at Joey D. and he
dipped his head in acknowledgement.

          “We’re on it.”

Before we left Crimson I stopped at Miranda’s office,
knocking once before opening the door. I wasn’t prepared to find Miranda
crying. She sat up straight when she heard the door creak open and was hastily
wiping her tear stained cheeks.

          “Hey, are you okay?”

          “Yeah,” she sniffed and cleared her throat. “I’m
fine.”

          “Liar,” I said with a smile and walked around the
desk. “Come here.” I grabbed her hand, pulling her out of the black leather office
chair and into my arms, wrapping her up in a hug. She hesitated at first, but
eventually relaxed against me and returned the hug. This was my first time seeing
Miranda’s vulnerable side and it made me want to be her protector. Tucking her
head under my chin, I ran my hands up and down her back in a soothing rhythm.
We stayed like that for a few minutes until she slowly stepped away.

          “Thanks,” she said, smiling up at me. There was a
slight flush on her cheeks and her green eyes still glistened with tears. Her
beauty stunned me.

          “Want to talk about it?” Normally an emotional
woman, with my sister being the exception, sent me running in the opposite
direction. There was something about Miranda though, that made me want to
listen to her problems. I knew then that I was in deep and Marco’s threat was
no longer a deterrent.

          “I wouldn’t be surprised if my dad fired me. You
saw the damage and all of this was done on my watch.”

          “Your dad won’t fire you. None of this is your
fault and since your tires were slashed, that makes you a target. “

          “Grant, you don’t understand. This is as close as
I’ll get to being part of everything. I’ll never be a capo or boss. Dad still
laughs at me when I bring it up.”

          “It’s a violent world, why would you want to be a
part of it?”

          “I already am a part of it. This is my reality. I
remember Uncle Rico getting shot, people going to prison. It’s like Uncle
Rico’s business, Grabano & Sons, when have you ever seen ‘& daughters’
on a business sign? I’m out of the running for managing the family business, so
I’ll manage the shit out of Crimson to show I’m worthy.” She paused and sucked
on her lower lip, while staring at me.

          “What?” I asked.

          “Please don’t tell anyone I was in here crying.
That just supports their reasons why women shouldn’t be part of the
organization.”

          “I won’t say anything and don’t worry, you’re
doing a great job and I’m not saying that to kiss your ass. You won’t get fired.
We found out who did it, that’s what I came in here to tell you.”

          “You did? Who?”

When I told her it was her cousin, Mike, she didn’t seem too
surprised. Leaning back against her desk with her arms crossed over her chest
she sighed. “He’s always had this weird competitive thing with me that I never
understood. So this makes sense.”

          “We’ll find out why he did it. Trust me, he’ll
talk.”

Miranda’s eyes met mine. “Good.”

I was shaking my head when I left the office because her
reaction was hard as nails, just like her father. I could see Miranda doing
just fine as a capo, hell, even boss one day and it was shame the opportunity
wasn’t available.

Joey was waiting for me out in the parking lot where he was
leaning against my car.

          “What took so long?” he asked.

          “I was just telling Miranda about her cousin.
She’s pretty pissed about all of this shit.”

          “Well let’s go find Mike and have a nice little
chat.”

I drove while Joey made calls. He first tried Mike directly,
but it went straight to voicemail. I headed toward Mike’s apartment on
Catherine Street. Within ten minutes we were idling in front of his building,
looking up at a dark second floor. Since it wasn’t even ten o’clock on a
Saturday night, I didn’t think he was inside sleeping.

Pulling up a few cars ahead, I parked in a commercial
loading zone and turned the car off. This way we could sit and wait to see if
Mike showed up as we decided our next move and waited for people to call Joey
back. My phone rang, the ringing piercing the silence and immediately reached
for it. I didn’t recognize the number, but since it had a ‘215’ area code, I
answered and heard familiar sobbing mixed in with hiccups on the other end.

          “Natalie, where are you and are you okay?”

          “Gra-hic-ant, somebody st-uh-ole bags!”

I could barely make out what she said because of all of the noise
in background. Someone was yelling, but the rest of the voices created a
distracting hum.

          “What Nat? Say that again,” I ordered, hoping my
barking tone caused her to focus.

          “Our bags, someone stole our bags and we don’t
have any money! Our phones are gone too.” She started hiccup sobbing again and
then there was loud rustling right before Chelsea came on the line.

          “Grant, can you help us?”

I sighed and ran my hand through my hair. “Fine, where are
you? Where are you calling from?”

She told me she was calling from a pay phone outside of a sketch
bar, one I was familiar with from my days at Drexel. It was well known with
college students because no one ever got carded, I wouldn’t be surprised if
they served twelve year olds.

          “Who was that?” Joey asked when I hung up the
phone.

          “My sister, she’s in trouble and I need to go get
her. Chances are Mike is out somewhere and won’t be back for a while. You want
to come with me? Hopefully someone will have called you back with his
whereabouts by the time we’re done.”

          “Your sister, huh? I didn’t know you have a
sister.”

          “Yeah, she just moved here for school.”

          “Cool. Trust me, I know all about how sisters can
be a pain in the fucking ass. Let’s go get yours.”

Joey D. had two sisters and I only met one them. Cici was a
handful and little bit of a ho, not that we talked about her like that around
Joey. The first time I met her, she was climbing on board Marco’s boat at the
shore with Dominic. She came into Crimson on occasion to party and usually
caused a fight when she started grinding on somebody’s boyfriend. Poor Joey
would have to run in and drag her drunk ass out of the club. What I didn’t
understand was that CiCi and Miranda were best friends. They couldn’t be more
opposite, but according to Joey, the two had been best friends since first
grade.

Davey’s Pub was located on a narrow one way side street near
City Hall. A large crowd of smokers had gathered out front and I didn’t see Natalie
right away. I spotted the pay phone on the corner of the building, near the
shadowy entrance to an alley. Suddenly the crowd shifted and I saw them.
Natalie and Chelsea were sitting on the curb. A couple of men were talking to
them and by the way my sister and her best friend were huddled against each
other, I could tell they didn’t want anything these guys were offering.

Slamming the car into park, I hopped out and walked over.
Natalie saw me and jumped up, staggering over to me on dangerously high heels.
She wore a short black skirt and white t-shirt with a black bra underneath;
definitely an outfit asking for trouble and I wished I had a blanket with me to
throw over her like a poncho. Chelsea was dressed similarly in a bright red
mini dress. Both had been crying and dried tears left faint mascara streaks on
their cheeks. Emotional girls dressed like strippers attracted unwanted attention,
which explained why they had men circling like vultures.

          “Natalie, you and Chelsea need to get in the car,”
I said, while eyeballing the two men. They were older; one had gray hair
peppering his side burns while the other sported a beer gut years in the
making. A Hard Rock t-shirt stretched tight over his girth. Guys like these two
assholes didn’t hang out at a college bar to make friends.

          “What’s the problem, man? We were talkin’ to the
ladies,” Beer Gut said.

          “Yeah and the conversation is over.” I stepped
forward, daring one of them to make a move.

Sideburns guy took a swing at me and I heard Natalie yell
look out, but she didn’t have to worry. As soon as his fist came towards me, I
grabbed it with my hand and shoved him backwards, knocking him off balance. He
stumbled back a few steps before landing on his ass with a stunned look on his
face.

          “What the fuck?” Beer Gut came at me next, but
before I could do anything, he was flying through the air to join his friend. I
hadn’t heard Joey D. come up from behind and he had stopped Beer Gut’s forward
momentum with one punch.

A cheering crowd had gathered and I glanced up into a sea of
smartphones filming all of the action. “Fuck, let’s go,” I said to Joey and we
hurried back to the car. Surprisingly, Natalie had listened to me for she and
Chelsea were in the backseat, staring wide-eyed out of the window.

We got in the car and quickly drove away from the scene.

          “Whoa Grant, that was badass!” Chelsea exclaimed.
“You and your friend were like superheroes back there.”

Joey D. chuckled and cracked his knuckles. “That was
nothin’.”

Natalie was really quiet so I used the rearview mirror to
see what was up. She had her head turned and her forehead pressed against the
window.

          “Hey Nat, are you okay?” I asked.

She sighed, shifting in the backseat so she was facing me.
“I’m sorry, Grant. It’s my first night in Philly and you’ve already had to bail
me out of some situation. I promised myself that when I moved here, I wasn’t
going to be dependent on you for help.”

          “Ha, good luck! Trouble seems to follow you.”

          “Hey, it does not!”

          “So what happened tonight?” I asked her reflection
in the rear view mirror before focusing on the road, slamming on the brakes
just in time to avoid rear ending a taxi that had suddenly stopped.

          “Nat and I were just sitting at a table having
some beers when these guys came over to talk to us and when we turned back
around, our bags which we had on the table, were gone. I can’t believe someone
took our shit.”

          “You’re not in York anymore. You always have to be
on your guard here.”

          “Yeah, we kind of figured that out,” Chelsea said
in a snarky tone that made Joey laugh.

I pulled into the pick-up and drop-off area in front of
their residence hall. Before Natalie got out of the car, I told her I’d pick
her up at noon the next day so we could get her a replacement phone. I then
handed her a one hundred dollar bill. “To replace what was stolen,” I said when
she stood there with her mouth hanging open.

          “But Grant, I didn’t even have twenty bucks in my
wallet.”