Chapter Ten
Slade
As I leapt for Aaron, I fully expected to feel the sharp bite of a knife in my gut. When I didn't, I was shocked enough to let a punishing uppercut connect with my jaw. We stumbled to the ground, and I heard Christine scream. I grabbed Aaron's shirt, ready to take him down. And then I felt the wire.
"For her," Aaron said in my ear.
He pulled back, his pale eyes direct on mine, and brandished his knife.
I struggled back, giving him a slight nod. Then Christine flew to my side. Her hands furiously checked my sides, and she only started breathing again when there was no blood. Aaron stood up and backed away, but the rest of Balducci's men surged closer.
I stood up and shielded Christine with my body. Balducci would never believe that Aaron missed, so I had to distract him somehow. The only thing I could do was make him an offer he couldn't refuse.
The old mobster gave a nonchalant grin and pulled a cigar from his pocket, as if this was the outcome he was expecting all along. His threats against Christine, his presence at the club, it had all been to get me back into his employ. Balducci was determined to maintain iron control over his men and my desertion made him look bad.
"Done," he said with a satisfied nod.
His men backed off and Aaron slipped farther away behind them. I wondered at the wire's range as I squared off with Balducci. "So, that's it? Back to business as usual?"
"Oh, I have a feeling things will change a little at your swanky club," Balducci said.
"Does that mean you're going to give up recruiting grunts from the street?" I asked.
Balducci fished in his pockets for a cigar lighter. "You mean like you? And Darren? Nah, that's only in special cases, where I see real potential."
"Is that why you had me running numbers for my meals?" I had kept those crib sheets and had stashed a paper-trail a mile long. If he confessed to it, then the DA could hang him up on racketeering if nothing else stuck.
"You were lucky for such a gig. Remember how terrible you were at figuring out the spreads? Good thing my richer clients took a liking to you." Balducci lit his cigar and let out big puffs of smoke.
Before the smoke cleared, a flood of police crashed into the warehouse. There was nowhere to hide on the wide-open floor, and Balducci took one look at the steep metal staircase before he realized he would never make it. His men were already down, hands in the air, and determined not to extend what every sentences they got.
The old mobster didn't go down so easy. With a bull-like bellow, he tossed his cigar and started throwing hard punches. A lifetime of experience knocked back three officers but the uniforms kept coming. Two grabbed his wrists while the one whose nose Balducci had bloodied kicked him down to his knees. Even on the floor, he fought them, and it took the help of another officer to finally get the handcuffs secured.
"You've got nothing on me, and I'll have all your badge numbers by the end of the night. Then you'll see who comes out clean and who gets cut," Balducci ranted. "And I don't know which one of you miseries sold me out, but I'll get the truth. I'm coming for you."
"You have the right to remain silent. . ." The officer with a bleeding nose started rattling off Balducci's rights as three other officers hauled him to his feet.
He sank against their hold, dead-weight, and kept ranting. "No one's got nothing on me!"
The police officers dragged him toward the warehouse doors. A black van showed up to transport Balducci's men to the nearest precinct. The floor started to clear.
Christine did not look relieved. In fact, she looked terrified. I followed her gaze and realized that Aaron was missing.
"He can't have gone far," I said.
"I don't know, Slade, the man moves like a ghost," Christine said.
I looked over the warehouse again and noticed an officer near the side door holding one hand tight. Blood seeped between his fingers. "What do you want to bet he went that way?" I asked.
She swayed on her feet, deathly pale. "He was wearing a…" she whispered, almost to herself.
"I know. I felt it when we fought," I said. "Is there any way the wire was transmitting?"
"Hey, found something," the officer with the sliced hand called. He held up the thin device Aaron had been wearing. "Looks like Mr. B was wrong about someone selling him out."
"It's over." I took a deep breath only to hold it as Christine toppled over. I caught her and saw her green eyes flutter as if she was about to faint.
Then her gaze cleared. "It's not over for us. You better tell me what the hell you thought you were doing—"
I swung Christine back on her feet and silenced her with a swift kiss. A few of the men whistled and cat-called as they were being taken away, but it didn't matter. I vowed nothing could get between me and Christine ever again.