Harmony Page 10

  “Then earn it.”

  Romano’s door opened. Jimmie held it for him. “Boss we should go in first. Make sure it’s the right drop spot…”

  Gunfire exploded in the quiet night. Several windows from the warehouse lit with fiery blasts of bullets that rained down on Romano’s caravan. Jimmie was hit in the back. His eyes bulged as blood sprayed from his mouth. Antonio grabbed Vinnie back in the car. The others returned fire. But Antonio jumped to the front of the car. The windshield shattered. “Stay down Vinnie. We’ll get you out of here.”

  Romano had no intention of staying down. He grabbed the Thompson submachine gun, what he and the boys called ‘the chopper’, from the bottom of the car and began to blast bullets in the direction of the fire-fight. His men would have to retreat. There was no advantage to claim. Romano however, wouldn’t relent no matter the mortal risk he placed himself in. Half of his body was out the window as he sprayed bullets in retaliation. He’d be damn if he did it crouched down like a coward.

  The car swerved in a semi-circle and raced out of the open lot. Romano didn’t withdraw. He leaned out the car window with no regard to his own safety and fired until the gun clicked noisily emptying and he and his men were long away.

  “Fuck!” he shouted.

  “Mickey laid a trap. Oh shit! Oh shit! They got Jimmie.” Antonio half shouted, half whined. Romano breathed hard and heavy. He’d never forget the glazed look of shock and pending death in his friend’s eyes before he dropped. He shuddered with black rage.

  “How many cars behind us?” He asked Antonio, as he reloaded.

  “I counted about six when we drove out but I don’t know who was hit and who wasn’t.”

  “Head east. To the cabins in Woodbury. I need to see the men. Mickey Collins is a dead fucker. In fact every motherfucker he cares about is dead as well.”

  In the country, at the dead of night, anything could happen. Harmony’s mind had played tricks on her since they dropped her off. She waited until her kidnappers left to venture out the front doors, and her heart sank. Dark black-forested acres of land surrounded the tiny cottage. A quarter of a mile up was a huge log house. She saw a car parked out front and wondered if Vinnie were held up there. Part of her wanted to march right up to the front door and demand he take her home. The smarter part of her prevailed and she went back inside.

  The cold became too much. After an hour she searched the back and front porch for the woodshed. She found a measly supply and tied her showgirl dress up at the thighs to bring the logs in. She’d been to the country several times with Grams and knew how to start her own fire. Soon the heat blazing in the brick hearth warmed the chilly dread she felt herself wrapped in. For the remainder of the night she sat on the modest tan cloth sofa and stared at the fire, thinking of Willie and how terrified he must be.

  Harmony heard cars. She jumped upright. Beams of light flooded the front window of the cottage. Could the bastards who stole her away be returning?

  The roar of the engines passing the cottage drew her. She remained closer to the shadows as she approached the window. When she eased aside the curtain she counted seven cars in total. Two of them had missing windshields.

  “What the hell is going on?” she said aloud.

  The men parked and several got out. She watched as two men carried someone wounded from the car inside the other cabin as the others gathered around. It was too dark to make out one man over the other, but the way they circled she guessed Romano was among them. Now what should she do?

  Harmony paced. Milo would be looking for her. Paulette probably alerted him when she never showed up. Neither would think to search for her here. And what of her brother? If she went missing Milo wouldn’t look for Willie, he’d waste energy on trying to rescue her, which most possibly would get them all killed. Harmony stopped pacing. The only way out of this mess would be through Romano. Though her first encounter with him had been unexpectedly nice, she had no delusions of his intentions now. She would have to fight and fight hard to survive. Harmony clenched the knife, sat, and waited.

  Romano watched two of his men and his brother drive off with his orders. He and Leftie were all that remained. Inside the cabin Nunzio was most certainly bleeding to death. If the boys didn’t return with the local doctor they’d have to bury him by sunrise. The blood on his shirt wasn’t his. Jimmie’s assassination was splattered all over him. The memory of the night’s events burned hot in his mind. His throat was tight and constricted as his chest. But he remained perfectly still. The cool night air had no affect on him. Neither did the large silver full moon.

  “Mickey had the jump on us boss.”

  Romano nodded. “Tell me something I don’t know.”

  “Maybe an inside man. First he knows Antonio is in charge of the shipment and now he knows we’re going for his booze before the meeting?”

  “Interesting how everyone talks peace since the truce with the Five Points Gang. Yet Mickey was prepared for war. “Romano agreed.

  “And Antonio? You sent him back into Harlem?”

  Romano had to consider the fact that his brother had been meeting and conducting business deals between the coloreds and his greatest nemesis behind his back for longer than he confessed. It was a hard truth to swallow. Since they entered America, loyalty was never a question between the two of them. Did his brother forget the rules? Maybe. He doubted Antonio was brave enough to start a turf war. “I want you to go after Antonio, keep an eye on him. And before this war is over every enemy, every schemer, every man, woman and child that has plotted against me will know my wrath.” Romano’s gaze cut over to the cottage. A faint light shone in the window with flickering luminance. Possibly from a fireplace. “Is she here?”

  “Yes boss. Been quiet as a church mouse since we dropped her off. She’s a feisty one. Got a mouth on her.”

  “She give you any trouble?”

  “Earlier she slipped from me. She’s quite resourceful. I wouldn’t trust her. I made it clear that you would not be denied. She came along without much of a fuss.”

  Romano smirked. “No one is to disturb us tonight unless it’s news of where the fuck my booze is. I’ll get the answers I need and meet with the boys in the morning.”

  “And Nunzio?”

  “Save his life if you can. Spare no expense. Reach out to my friends, invite them all in. It’s time for a reunion.”

  Leftie spat phlegm. “So the gang’s coming back? They’ll want more than leadership.”

  “It’s time we secure what’s ours. I’m sure I can convince them of our new purpose.” Romano turned and began to walk through the tall grass toward the cottage. He was fond of his songbird still. Before his brother’s deception was revealed he had intended to help her, and help himself to her soft body and sweet angelic voice. Now in one night everything had flipped to shit. Ironically it was Songbird’s runaway brother who could give him the leg up on the situation. And if she’d played him for a fool all along she’d be sorry. He was done with niceties.

  The porch step creaked under his foot announcing his arrival. The cottage was unnaturally silent. Not even the sounds of the night animals followed him. His hand closed in on the doorknob when a car drove across the grass. Romano’s head turned and he expected to see Leftie leaving. Instead he recognized the town doctor in the passenger seat with one of his men at the wheel. Maybe Nunzio would have a chance after all. He heaved a deep sigh. Jimmie’s death burned his gut and if he lost Nunzio too he wasn’t sure how he’d keep perspective. Leftie said Dan, Vego, Twin and Big Boy Stevie were all dead. They’d haunt him like the other fallen men he called brother, just like Paulie.

  Darkness greeted him, sweetly doused in her floral scent. It had been quite some time since a woman’s fragrance filled the air in this place.

  The partially opened door blocked his view of the rest of the cottage. He stepped inside and turned his head as he did so. The brief distraction was the only savior between him and a knife to the throat. She flung h
erself at him with her weapon ready to take another plunge. Romano grabbed her wrist and threw her back into the door forcing it shut. Harmony fought him with her free hand, the knife noisily dropped to the floor. Romano put his hand around her slender throat, tight. She gasped, and her eyes stretched with fear. She kneed him hard in the crotch and his knees buckled but he held to her throat and managed to keep standing. “Motherfuck! That hurt!” He wheezed. She struggled clawing at his face. He had to lift her with one hand up the wall. “Don’t move! Don’t!” he seethed.

  She stopped struggling. She held his stare. Fire blazed in her dark eyes, her lips drew back from her teeth and revealed how clenched they were.

  “You behave, understand me? Hit me again and I’ll snap your neck!”

  She nodded that she would obey. There was a sad decline in the brilliance of her soft brown eyes. I’ll be damn, crazy broad tried to off me. Romano nearly chuckled at the irony, but the pain in his groin made the humor fleeting. He’d always figured he’d die from a bullet, not a dame with a kitchen knife. Surely she knew taking a swipe at him would be a costly mistake. In a warped kind of way, he liked the spunk she’d shown. He never played it safe in life, never shied away from the impossible. She was a dame after his own heart. He ought to let her go to see what she’d try next.

  “Will you be good if I let you go?”

  “Yes,” she said and he loosened his grip on her throat. He lowered her and she slid down the door several inches to land on her feet. He studied her, lingering on the swell of her bosom lifting with each staggered breath she inhaled. Her steady gaze bore into him with silent expectation and he had to avoid it to keep revealing how much the violence excited him. Instead he knelt and picked up the knife. Holding it up to the sparse light cast about the room from the flames of the fireplace, he could see the silver carved handle and engravings. It came from The Cotton Club? Leftie brought her in and didn’t bother to check if she had a weapon? He snorted in disgust.

  “Wh-what are you-you going to do to me?” She croaked in a hoarse brittle voice, her hand to her throat. She glistened like rubies in her scarlet red dress. He’d seen her perform in it before. The only thing missing was the orchid from her hair.

  “Sit down.” He ordered.

  Rebellion swelled in her, evident by the defiant scowl she gave. He was in no mood to ask twice. His brow arched and she did as she was told. Could he blame her for her actions? He did bring her against her will. Still he had her pegged as smarter than this. His judgment had been slipping lately.

  “Where’s your brother?” Romano asked, rubbing the ache from his groin.

  “You know I don’t know.” She said under her breath.

  “Songbird, you won’t get many chances tonight to convince me to be patient after trying to stick me. Take your time and think carefully before you speak. Where’s your brother?”

  Harmony crossed her arms over her bosom, refusing him his answers. Romano exhaled nosily through his flared nostrils. “You are one stubborn woman! Fine. I’ll fill in the blanks for you. Your brother played games with people who are far less dangerous than me. Now he owes big. And I intend to collect. When he finds out that I have you I’m sure he’ll reappear.” He pointed a finger at her. “And by then the time for negotiations between you and me will be over.”

  “Willie didn’t know it was your booze, if’n he took it at all.”

  “So we agree he stole from me? I thought you said he was a good kid?”

  “He is. He got mixed up with men like you that ain’t. He never mentioned his dealings to me.”

  “Too bad for him, too bad for you Songbird. Willie has information I need. The money he stole is the least of his problems. You need to let me bring him in before Mickey does.”

  “I told you I don’t…”

  “Careful.” He warned. “Think about what I just said before you answer again.”

  Romano walked over to the small wooden kitchen table and drew back a chair. He sat in it wearily. The night had taken its toll on him. Fatigue settled in his bones. He craved sleep.

  Harmony exhaled a breath of relief when he sat down away from her. The bastard had almost strangled her. She touched her tender throat and grimaced. The knife was a desperate act on her part. She hadn’t really thought killing him through. Hell she wasn’t even sure it was him. When she heard the door open her survival instincts kicked in. His reaction caught her off guard. Wasn’t he some vicious mob boss? She expected him to strike her, or do worse over the attack. He seemed quite at ease with people trying to take his life. Something in his aloof manner over the matter soothed her fears. Harmony lowered to the sofa never taking her eyes off him.

  Is that blood on the front of his shirt?

  Together they sat in silence. After several insufferable minutes with no words between them he rose. She watched as he slowly removed his suit coat. There was something stiff about his actions, he looked to be in pain. “Are you hurt?” She jutted her chin toward the evidence of his violent night on his tweed vest and white shirt.

  Romano glanced down, seeing the blood for the first time. Harmony felt a bit of panic rise in her. What if he is hurt, and dies on me? What then? It’ll be the death of me and Willie for sure. “Where are you bleeding?”

  “Not my blood.” He said dryly. He loosened the button to the front of his vest and removed it. When he shed his shirt she noticed his arm. Harmony squinted at the bruise on his bicep. She rose and approached him.

  Romano looked to his arm curiously and didn’t object when she got closer and began to inspect it. “You need to keep it clean. I’ll….” She glanced to the kitchen and the sink. “Is there a well?”

  He didn’t answer. He seemed more focused on the scar than her. The sink did indeed have running water. Harmony located a cloth and doused it in the cool water, then returned to him. She wiped his arm.

  “You cut me,” he said, a bit bewildered. “I’ll be damned.”

  The accusation hit her hard. “I did this?”

  “Apparently so.” His dark gaze swung back up to her face. He seemed amused by it. She felt her stomach sour over the implications. She really didn’t want to hurt him.

  “Vinnie…ah Mr. Romano, I’m sorry. I didn’t know it was you coming through the door.” She lied. His gaze narrowed. She heaved a deep sigh. “I lied. I did know it was you, or I thought it might be you. I was afraid. I had to protect myself.”

  “From me? Have I done anything to hurt you?”

  “I heard at The Cotton that you and Mickey Collins are going to war. Everyone’s talking about it. I also hear tell you think it’s my brother’s fault and I don’t know what the hell to do about this mess he in. For you to come after me…”

  “After you came to me.” He corrected.

  She nodded. “You right. I did come to you, for help. And you promised you would help him, after… after I gave you what you wanted.” She looked up into his eyes. “And I fulfilled our bargain. You didn’t.”

  “Is that so?”

  She couldn’t bring herself to remind him of the things he said when he was between her legs. Even now she was uncertain of the forbidden urges the memory evoked. It was lust, a sin, and she wished she’d never crossed that line. “If you let me talk to Willie I can clear this up Mr. Romano.”

  “It’s Vinnie. Back to me hurting you, not in the cards Songbird. I’d never strike a dame, even one after my own life.” His voice sounded calm, maybe even a bit concerned when he corrected her. “I deserve your distrust.” He grabbed her hand to keep her close. Harmony maintained his stare. “I didn’t bring you here to cause you harm. Our business isn’t done.”

  “It is…”

  “It isn’t,” he said firmly. “And now that your brother is between us, it’s up to you and I to see this through—to the very end.” He drew her closer. She tried to resist but his pull was insistent. Her feet did a short scuttle and she was forced to stand between his legs. With her heart thundering in her ear she stood perfectly
still before him. Harmony shivered. She wouldn’t have much of an escape if he made a move on her.

  “I wanted to see you again.” She forced a smile. “It’s not a wise thing you know? Me and you are different, we come from different worlds. If we didn’t maybe… I would think we might try to be friends.”

  “That’s not quite true is it?” This time there was a hint of steel edge to his voice. She shrugged her shoulders. She had lost her taste for bad boys after Lewis died. If it were up to her she’d date a factory worker or farmer and return to singing in a small church. He released her wrist. Harmony remained still. His hand eased into the spilt at the side of her dress and stroked up the back of her thigh. She was only marginally aware of his touch. Her mind had split over fleeing, or using his desires to gain freedom.