Reckless

  Chapter 12

  Carl gripped the IV pole with one hand, his heaving stomach with the other. He closed his eyes slowly and waited for the nausea to pass.

  “You can barely stand,” Joey told him. “You're not gonna to be any help unless you’re planning to apprehend Lou Taranto by throwing up on him.” Her tone didn't hide the concern in her voice.

  “Nausea’s normal with concussion. It'll pass.” Carl straightened, reached for the closet door and saw his clothes inside. He stretched his arm for the hanger, then paused when his balance deserted him.

  Joey reached past him, retrieved his clothes and tossed them on the stiff white sheets on his hospital bed. “'Multiple concussions' was the term I heard them use. Besides, didn’t your boss just say they were doing everything that could be done?”

  “Yeah, but my boss is in worse shape than I am.” Harry had narrowly survived an attempt on his life. Someone had taken a shot at him, probably had mistaken him for Nick, since he'd been driving Nick’s car. The bullet grazed his head, and sent him careening off the road and down an embankment. By they time he'd been found, Nick and Toni had already led Taranto and his gang away from Toni's building, giving Toni’s sister the chance to get Carl to a hospital. He didn't remember much of that trip.

  But no one had heard from Nick or Toni since. Their car had been in an accident. Reports said it was full of bullet holes. But neither of them had been found, and Carl was scared. He sat on the edge of the bed and yanked his trousers on without removing the tie-in-the-back hospital gown he wore. He stood to fasten them, then offered Joey his back.

  Sighing, she untied the gown for him. Carl turned again, picked up his shirt and poked his arms into the sleeves. As he buttoned it, he heard her inhale. He looked up fast. Her horrified gaze on his shoulders and chest reminded him the shirt wasn't exactly clean. Looking down, he saw the spattered patterns of dried blood. His lips thinned. He met her gaze again. “Sorry. I didn't think—”

  “Taranto has them,” she said.

  “Can’t be sure of that.”

  “Maybe you can’t, but I can.”

  Lying to her would be useless. She was smart, and a little bit creepy; like she knew things. He figured she'd see right through it. “You’re probably right,” he admitted. “But don't think that means...” He broke off, searched his foggy brain, and began again. “Taranto thinks he’s smart enough to wiggle out of any situation, dodge any charge, no matter how much evidence there is. He won't kill them if he thinks they have information he can use. He'll keep them alive until he gets it from them. Nick knows that, and Toni—she’s sharp. She's probably figured it out, too. They can use that knowledge to stall, and in the meantime we'll find out where he's holding them and—”

  “I heard your boss—what’s his name, the guy who’s running the whole operation from his hospital bed down the hall? Harry?” Carl nodded and she went on. “I heard him say they've checked every piece of property Taranto owns and found nothing.”

  “Every piece we know of,” Carl corrected her. “Contrary to popular belief, we don't know everything. Toni already proved that.”

  A tiny glimmer of hope lit her eyes. “Toni’s pretty thorough in her research. She might know of other holdings—”

  “If she did, how would I find out?”

  Joey dove into the closet. She wasn’t reluctant to help him anymore. She retrieved his shoes and socks, his jacket and his gun. “It would be in her computer.”

  Carl nodded, his mind racing ahead of him as he mindlessly dressed his feet, checked his gun, adjusted the holster. “Okay. Do you have a key to her apartment?” She nodded. “Give it to me and—”

  “I'm going with you,” she told him.

  “No.” He straightened too quickly, and the resulting rush of dizziness nearly knocked him down. She came closer to him, gripped his arm until it passed.

  “You wouldn't know her passwords. I do. And I’m not telling you. So don't waste time arguing over this. Toni and I share our stubborn streak. Got it from our father.”

  Carl sighed, pulled on his jacket and turned slightly to close the closet door. It was then he caught a glimpse of his own reflection in the mirror mounted there. He almost jumped. He looked like something from an old Saturday-afternoon horror flick. Dark-colored bruises with angry purple rings at their outermost edges covered most of his face. His nose was bent at an angle near the center. His eyes were still swollen, their lids so blue they looked made-up. He shook his head, closed the door and looked at her again. “I'm surprised you didn't run screaming when you got a look at this.” He indicated his face with an open palm beneath his chin.

  “I don’t scare easily.”

  She insisted on driving—and when he saw what, he was even more nervous. Toni Rio’s sister got around by means of a sweet cherry red Harley. “How the hell did you get me to the hospital on that?”

  “I only got you around the corner on it. Then I called an ambulance. You don’t remember?”

  “No. Thank God.” He hopped on and within thirty minutes he was standing behind her in the office of Toni's apartment. Joey Bradshaw sat in a padded swivel chair, punching buttons on her sister’s keyboard. “I’m surprised the cops didn’t take this.”

  “Oh, they will, trust me. They haven’t processed the apartment yet. Everyone’s out looking for Taranto and Nick.” There was crime scene tape across the front of the door, but no one stood guard. Toni’s evidence was all in police custody already, thanks so her sister. No one was overly concerned about the apartment.

  “And Toni,” she added.

  In a moment the words “Holdings: Real Estate” appeared on the screen. Joey scrolled slowly down the list, and Carl’s eyes sped over every line, his impatience nearing an all-time high. Then he saw what he was looking for.

  “There! Number eighteen, that's one I've never heard of. I don't think we knew about that one.”

  Joey clicked on the listing. “Farmhouse,” the screen told them. “Rural Chenango County—Upstate N.Y.” Carl read that Taranto had purchased the property for back taxes, using his cousin's name on the deed. Toni’s notes said she had suspected the place was a dispatch point for drugs being shipped to Syracuse, Binghamton and other surrounding cities. The house itself, she'd noted, was in a state of chronic disrepair, but ideal for Lou's purposes, being completely surrounded by state forest.

  Carl shook his head, a sickening feeling in his stomach that hadn't been caused by his concussions this time. “How do we find this place?”

  “It’s just over an hour from where I live. I know the area.” Joey yanked out her cell phone, opened the map feature and tapped in the address. “It’s a four-hour drive from here.”

  “Who said anything about driving?”

  It was several moments before Nick could speak again. The last blow to the midsection had struck a rib on the way in. He couldn't draw a breath. He forcibly clung to consciousness despite the pain that washed over him like a tidal wave and the dizziness it brought with it. He had to stay lucid. At least until he could be sure Toni knew why he'd said what he had. When she'd asked that he not be killed right way, Taranto got suspicious. Nick knew him well enough to recognize the look. He had to do something to convince Lou that there was nothing between them.

  Taranto and Viper left the room, and he heard locks being slid home. A second later Toni was behind him, deftly untying his hands. Circling to the front of him, she dropped to her knees and loosened the ropes that held his ankles. She stayed there a minute, not looking up.

  Then she took a deep breath and said, “I hope I'm right about how well you know me, Nick.”

  He rubbed his wrists roughly, then put both hands on her shoulders. “You put on one hell of an act, Toni. And you'd better damn well know by now when I'm doing the same. Call it a supporting role.”

  Her head rose slowly, her eyes scanning his face. “You knew what I was doing?”

  “Almost as soon as you did. It never entered my mind to
believe a word of it.” He closed his arms around her, but she stiffened and held herself away.

  “You’re hurt pretty badly, Nick.” Her eyes danced back and forth as she studied his face. “I wanted to club that bastard with something...I almost jumped on him without anything but my hands to use as weapons.”

  “I believe you.” He smiled to show her he was okay, but she touched his face gently with her palm, and her eyes got damp again. “I'm fine, I swear to God. It probably looks worse than it is.” Seeing the fear in her eyes was more than he could handle right then, so he tried to change the subject. “You were good with Taranto, Toni. You pinpointed his weakness and you nailed him with it. He'd do anything to save his organization.”

  She shook her head, getting to her feet. “He'll be angrier than ever when he finds out I was lying.”

  Nick rose, as well, glancing around the musty room. “You bought us some time. Now all we need to do is find a way out of here. It's a basement...a cellar. This is just a house, and not a new one by the looks. I wonder where the hell we are?” He walked as he spoke, examining the rotted wood, the toppled water tank, the broken wooden crate. He knelt beside it and pawed through the dust-covered bottom to identify the shapes there. He found bent nails, a broken screwdriver and some wire. He tucked the screwdriver into his rear pocket and got upright again, glancing upward at the cobweb-coated ceiling.

  “Not a heating duct or a register in the place,” he muttered.

  “I don't think anyone's been here in a while,” Toni observed.

  “You're right. He had to bring us somewhere isolated. With warrants out on him, he couldn't risk staying around the city, much less any of his known hangouts. He can't have had time to round up much help, either. I imagine most of his thugs scattered once the feds served the search warrants on Taranto’s businesses.”

  He stared at the door, frustration rising within him. “If we could get through the damn door, we might have a chance.” He paced the room. “What if I make some racket, get whoever's guarding the door to open it up?” He was thinking aloud, the plan coming together in his mind as he voiced it. “I could jump the guy when he comes in. You could run out, close the door so he couldn't yell or come after you.”

  She closed her eyes slowly and shook her head. “No.” When she opened her eyes again, the look in them was intense. She held his gaze forcefully. “Listen to me for once, Nick. I will not leave you.” He frowned, searching her face, and she caught his face between her cool palms and held his eyes with hers. “I mean it. I won't.”

  He sensed she wanted him to read more into her words than what she'd said, and the idea awed him. Could she be trying to tell him that—

  No. In his entire life, no one had ever cared enough about him to stay for the long haul. How likely was it that a woman like Toni Rio, the smartest, sexiest, bravest woman he’d ever met, would be the first? He shook his head at the impossibility of it. Still, some small part of him wondered. She hadn't left him yet, though remaining with him had put her at risk. She hadn't left him, even when he'd tried to make her go.

  “Toni, this might be your last chance. I'm offering you a way out. I don't see any other options.”

  “He'd kill you,” she said softly. “He'd have no reason not to.”

  “If you stay, he'll kill us both,” he told her.

  She sighed, looked at the floor. “You really think I could just walk away from you, Nick? After all of this? I can't, you know. I couldn't if I wanted to. I won't. Even...” She drew a steadying breath and brought her gaze up to his. “Even when it's over.”

  He couldn't believe what he saw in her eyes. It hit him harder than Viper had, rendering him speechless. He opened his mouth, and only air came out.

  The sound of a key turning in the lock startled him. Toni shoved him away, both hands flat on his chest. He knew she intended for him to sit down, as if he were still bound. He didn't, though. He couldn't take his eyes off her face. He couldn't stop his heart from pounding. This was not the time or the place, but he thought she might trying to tell him she loved him.

  The door opened, and two men he hadn't seen before stepped through it. Both held guns, and both barrels were trained on Nick.

  “You!” The fifty-something thug with the crew cut and brown teeth waggled his gun barrel toward Toni. “Come with us.”

  “She's not going anywhere,” Nick said softly.

  “What's a matter, Manelli? You want to keep her all to yourself, is that it?”

  The one beside Brown Teeth shifted his stance. He was younger, with a pocked face and body like a bean pole. “I don't know about this,” he muttered. “Lou said not to touch her until he got what he wanted from her.”

  “There won't be anything left to touch when he's got what he wants from her, kid. You ever seen what Lou does to broads that fuck him over?” He shook his head and moved closer to Toni. His gaze moved down her body slowly, and Nick clenched his teeth. “I won't hurt you, babe. I know how to handle a woman. You might even like me.” He licked his lips. “You don't come along like a good girl, though, and I'll have to put a bullet in Nicky. See, Lou would kill me if I hurt you. But I have permission to shoot him if he gives me a reason.”

  Nick saw Toni's eyes harden. It amazed him once again, the backbone she had. He knew at that moment that all his resolve hadn't amounted to a damn thing. He'd been in love with her all along.

  “That's right, sweet thing. I can see you realize you got no choice. You give me trouble, you get to watch him die and then you do what I tell you anyway, right? So why get Nicky blown away for nothing? You just come with me and you keep what I said in mind while we're in the other room.” He glanced at the younger one. “I think she's gonna be real willing to accommodate us, Ray. I think she'll do anything we tell her to. Won't you, babe?”

  She didn't answer until the younger one lifted the muzzle of his gun to Nick's temple. Nick's eyes were on Toni as she stiffened her spine. “I'll come with you.”

  “The hell you will,” Nick said.

  “They won't kill me, Nick.”

  “They won't touch you.”

  He heard her stifle a sob. She swallowed. “I don't want to lose you like this,” she rasped. “Let it go. It won't be me, I swear to you. They'll be touching an empty shell—”

  “Enough! Anybody'd think you had a choice about it.” Brown Teeth grabbed Toni's upper arm. “Come on, baby, I been waitin' for this.” He yanked her toward the door.

  The younger one pressed the barrel harder to Nick's temple, but Nick's eyes were on Toni. Her gaze sent him a silent message, begging him not to do anything. Aloud she whispered again, “It won't be me, Nick.”

  “You're damn right it won't,” he growled. In one swift move, he'd pulled the broken screwdriver from his pocket and jammed it into the skinny man, just below the rib cage, angling upward and thrusting it clear to the handle. His gun thudded to the floor. Brown Teeth turned at the sound, saw his partner drop to his knees, mouth agape. He released his hold on Toni and leveled his gun at Nick. Toni slammed her fists down on his forearms. The gun roared, deafening in the small room, but the bullet only embedded itself in the packed dirt of the floor. Nick used the split second Toni had bought him to lunge for the gun at his feet. He had it in his hand when Brown Teeth backhanded Toni, slamming her into the cinder-block wall. Nick pulled the trigger, sending another earsplitting boom into the confined space. The man staggered backward three steps, then folded in on himself, ending in a heap on the floor.

  Nick reached down, twisted the gun from his limp grasp and straightened again. Toni stood near the doorway, her gaze on the bleeding skinny one with the screwdriver handle protruding from his belly. He was unconscious but still alive. Nick stepped over Brown Teeth, pressed the gun into Toni’s hand, gripped her chin, forced her to look at him. “We’re getting out of here.”

  She nodded, and they headed out through the small doorway, both knowing those gunshots must've been heard upstairs.

  Th
ey entered the main part of an ancient, crumbling cellar. He felt her body tremble as he urged her through. Already he heard footsteps above. Nick glanced to the left and saw the rickety stairs that led upward, presumably to the house. To the right was another, less steep, set, with an angular hatch like door that laid almost flat at the top that would lead outside. There were more footsteps from above, and raised voices. He put his arm around her shoulders, mounted the first step and heard the door at the top of the other set of stairs creak open. If this exit was locked—

  He shoved at the hatch, and it swung open, hitting the ground hard. They sped out into the warm, fresh night air and pitch dark. His stride lengthened. “Run, Toni!” She did, clutching his hand tightly, and in seconds bullets flew after them.

  They were not in New York City anymore. They crossed a dewy, overgrown lawn with weeds that reached above his knees. At its edge, a dirt road twisted away into blackness. Nick glanced back. He saw only a tall, sagging house silhouetted by the half moon—and muzzle flashes like murderous eyes. He pulled her with him again, crossing the dirt track and heading for the thick woods opposite. They were at the edge of the tree line when he heard her suck in her breath and felt her hand clutch his tighter.

  Fear hit him between the eyes. He paused just beyond the trees. “Toni?”

  She didn't stop when he did. “Nothing—twisted my ankle. Come on!” She tugged at his hand.

  He could hear their pursuers coming closer. They ran, heading deeper into the forest. The pain of his broken rib screamed angrily.

  They approached a sharp rise and took it at a brutal pace. Nick began to worry. Just where the hell were they? How far could this forest go on? Towering spruce trees surrounded them, angling skyward even on this steep hillside. The ground underfoot gave softly with their steps, making little sound. They topped the rise and started down the opposite side. A fallen tree caught his eye, and Nick noticed the cavelike space formed by the awkwardly bent boughs and the steep incline. He pulled Toni to it, and they ducked inside. She sat down, and Nick glanced through the opening, seeing no one at the moment.

  “How big can these damn woods be?”

  She was breathing hard. Too hard. “Thousands of acres,” she said. “It's state forest.”

  He turned, frowning, and crouched beside her. Even in the darkness he could see the deep stain on her shirt. Her sleeve was soaked, dripping. “You’re hit! Why didn't you say something?” He forgot his own pain, that of his unhealed thigh and even of the broken rib, as he unbuttoned the blouse quickly, shoved it down over her shoulders and yanked it from her hands. She winced when the material pulled away from the wound in her shoulder. Blood pulsed from a small hole. Nick swore. The exertion of running had only increased the bleeding. He tore the clean sleeve off her blouse and twisted it around her, under her arm and over her shoulder, then tied it tight.

  He watched for a moment, unsure whether he'd stopped the blood flow or just slowed it. Damn the darkness. How much blood had she lost already? Angrily he tore the bloody sleeve off and helped her slip her arms back into the now-sleeveless blouse. He buttoned it with badly shaking hands.

  When he finished, he glanced up at her face. She leaned back against the sticky trunk, her eyes closed. “Toni? Talk to me. Does it hurt much?”

  “It's okay. I'm just resting.” She opened her eyes, but it seemed to be an effort. Her voice was weak. “I remember now—it's some rural county. I forget the name. Upstate.”

  He slipped his hand to the back of her head and pulled her forward until she rested on his shoulder. “You'll be okay.” Was he comforting her or himself? “You'll be okay, Toni. I'll get you out of this, I swear I will.” He couldn't lose her. He couldn't. He held her tighter.

  She lifted her head. “We should go...farther. They'll come after us.”

  Nick studied her eyes, silently begging her not to leave him this way. “Just rest. It's dark. They'd have to trip over us to find us here.” He pulled her head back down gently. “Just rest.”

  “I don't want to rest.” She remained relaxed against him despite her words. “I have to tell you...not to feel guilty. None...” She drew a deep breath and seemed to steady herself. “None of this was your fault.”

  “Shh.” He stroked her hair. God, how he loved her hair. “You can ease my conscience when you’re feeling better.”

  “But...what if I don't—”

  “Don't even say it, lady. You aren't getting away from me that easy.”

  He felt her sigh. “You're right.” Her voice was barely a whisper now. “I told you I wouldn't leave you, Nick. I meant it. You have to know that. I meant it.'' She lifted her head again, and it seemed to take an incredible effort. She gazed into his eyes. “I know it'll be hard for you to believe me. Everyone you ever loved walked out on you. You don't trust anyone. But I won't walk out, Nick. Not unless you ask me to. Maybe not even then.” Her eyes closed slowly and popped wide again as if she'd forced them. “I love you, Nick Manelli.”

  He felt as if he'd been struck by lightning. “You—you're delirious.”

  “I love you.” Her head fell to his shoulder as if she could no longer hold it up.

  Nick caught her face in his hands and gently lifted her, but her eyes remained closed, thick lashes resting on her cheeks, tears glistening in the single shaft of moonlight that made its way between the pine boughs. He kissed her, but her lips were slack and unresponsive. He closed his arms around her and rocked her slowly as a burning dampness gathered in his eyes. “Hold on, Toni. You said you wouldn’t go and I’m holding you to it.”

  She loved him. My God, it was not possible. No one had ever uttered those three words to Nick before—not even his own mother. Yet Toni had. She said she loved him, and he believed her.

  She shivered in his arms. She needed help; he knew that. She'd lost a lot of blood, running full tilt the way she had while her magnificent heart pumped more and more blood out of her body. He lowered her gently, then moved out of the sheltering boughs and paused, listening. He heard Taranto’s men moving, but in the wrong direction.

  Apparently they'd passed by and were still heading deeper into the woods. Nick bent and lifted Toni carefully into his arms. He'd take her back the way they'd come. There must be a vehicle, a phone, something.

  He'd carried her nearly all the way back. The dirt road should be just beyond his range of vision now. She hadn't stirred in all that time. A sense of dread had settled over him. To lose her now would kill him. He drew closer to the road, able to see its shape. He was about to step through the last line of trees when he heard the choppers. They approached fast, and in seconds hovered over him. Spotlights swept through the trees over the road and seemed to settle on a subject. An artificially amplified voice filled the air, all but drowned out by the pounding of the chopper blades, but audible and mad as hell. “We are federal officers. Stand where you are and throw your weapons to the ground.”

  There was sudden movement from the road, and a burst of gunfire. Nick lowered Toni to the ground and lifted his weapon just as Lou Taranto lunged through the trees directly in front of him. Nick heard one of the choppers touch down. Lou lifted his gun muzzle.

  “Forget it, Lou,” Nick said, his voice level. “You're going down this time. It's over.”

  Taranto’s gun wavered. “Like my own son, Nicky.” His body shook now, as well as his hand. “I treated you like my own son. You're right, it's over. But not just for me.” The change in his grip on the revolver was minuscule but enough. Nick pulled the trigger three times in quick succession, and each time Lou's fat body jerked as if electrocuted. He went down then and lay still on the ground.

  Nick looked at him for a long moment. He'd been waiting for this from the time he was sixteen years old, and now that it had come, it was nothing. It meant nothing. All that mattered was Toni. He turned and bent low to lift her into his arms again.

  “Not yet, Manelli.”

  Viper's voice came from just behind him, and Nick's blood went
cold. He'd lowered his weapon too soon. He stiffened, not even breathing, and lifted his gun, ready to spin and fire, and knowing he couldn’t move fast enough.

  The sudden crack that split the air behind him jolted him, but Nick felt no bullet. He whirled, ready to fire, not believing Viper had missed. But Viper lay dead on the ground. Nick looked past the hit man to see Carl's garishly bruised face. He stood with one hand braced against a tree trunk and gave Nick a lopsided grin.

  “How many times are you gonna make me save that overdeveloped butt of yours, pal? I'm getting kinda sick of it.”

  “By my count, that makes us about even, Salducci.” Nick turned, holstering his gun, and bent over Toni again. He picked her up and walked toward the road.

  “She okay?”

  “She has to be,” Nick said. “I'm on a roll.”

  He stepped out of the trees onto the road and saw cops everywhere and several of Taranto's men being handcuffed. Toni’s sister, Joey, ran toward him, shaking an officer’s restraining hands off her as if they were nothing. She stopped in front of Nick, her hand smoothing Toni's hair.

  “Oh, God...”

  “She's only unconscious,” Nick said gently. “She's going to be all right.”

  She nodded brusquely, stepped to one side, keeping her hand on her sister's face and walking along with him toward the nearest chopper. “Yeah. Yeah, she will.” There was relief in her voice, then she looked up at him. “She looks better than you do, I can tell you that much.”

  Nick heard the slight waver underlying the gusto of her words. He saw her lower lip tremble and he spotted droplets forming on her lashes. What was it with these women and their false bravado, anyway?