Page 17 of Sal Gabrini: Man on Fire

“It was really good seeing you again, Mace,” added Gemma, but then Sal placed his hand around her waist and began moving her along.

But when Sal saw Gemma glance back at Mason, as if she felt sorry for him or something, he was inwardly enraged. But he didn’t say a word. Gemma was with him, not that joker he still couldn’t quite figure out.

Their bodyguards followed them out of the restaurant.

But as Mason continued to sit at that table, he was enraged too. And when they walked out of the restaurant, he grabbed his phone and called his private investigator.

“How did it go?” the P.I. asked him.

“I need dirt,” said Mason. “I need all the dirt you can uncover from under every rock and every black hole.”

“On Gemma Jones-Gabrini?”

“No,” said Mason.Never, he wanted to say. “On Salvatore Gabrini. Her husband.”

“I’ll do it, Mace. It’s your money. But I’m telling you right now you’re about to tread in shark-infested, dangerous waters.”

“Tread my ass,” said Mason. “I’m not about to tread in shark-infested, dangerous waters. I’m about to swim with those motherfuckers.” Then he ended the call.

Thanks to that husband of hers, he just lost Gemma again when he had her so close! If Sal Gabrini’s wop ass hadn’t shown up, he would have had her in his bed that very night, he was convinced of it. But Gabrini showed up. And stole his show.

Staying with his scheme when he knew a man like Sal Gabrini was on to him was risky. Hella risky. But Gemma Jones was worth the risk to him in spades. Because he knew Gemma. If his life was on the line, she’d come through for him. She’d buck that domineering husband of hers and come through for him. She was good like that.

He was relying on that goodness.

CHAPTER SEVEN

“Where are we going?”

It was bad enough that she had to leave her Bentley at Pilgrim’s Pond for one of Sal’s guys to drive back to their house, but she had to sit in his Bugatti and let him take her wherever he chose to take her. Without telling her anything. He just drove. This wasn’t like Sal. He wasn’t normally this . . .possessive. Was it all just because of Mason? She didn’t believe that.

She looked at him. “Where are we going, Sal?” she asked him again.

“One of my safe houses,” he responded. He had one hand on his steering wheel and the other hand rubbing his chin. He never discussed hisotherbusiness interests with Gemma so that she, in her capacity as a lawyer and an officer of the court, would always have plausible deniability. She wouldn’t be lying if she said she didn’t know.

He didn’t even want to bring her with him to that safe house, but he also didn’t want her out of his sight. It wasn’t like him to be that needy for Gemma or for any other human being on earth. It was him everybody usually needed, not the other way around. But it was the other way around, nowadays, with Sal.

But just as they were turning off the highway and making their way down a long, dark road that led to a two-story shack of a safe house, Gemma turned and looked at her husband. The idea that he would bring her along to a safe house that isolated was surprising. “What’s wrong with you, Sal? Why would you bring me to one of your deep cover houses?” He had plenty safe houses in regular neighborhoods. She thought that was where he was taking her. Deep cover meant the person they were housing wasn’t just dangerous, but was super-dangerous.

“I just need to check on something,” he said as he parked behind two other cars. The security detail assigned to Sal remained further back, on the main road just in case somebody had followed them. It was a nuisance having them around, but until his syndicate got back to normal, it was a necessary nuisance.

“I’ll be back,” Sal said, getting out of his car. “This won’t take long,” he added.

But as soon as he stepped out of his car, a big, muscle man came crashing through the upstairs window, shattering the glass as it flew with him to the dirt of the front lawn. “What the fuck!” Sal yelled in shock when he saw that human bird.

Robby Yale and a couple other of Sal’s men looked down through the now shattered upstairs window amazed that the guy had jumped, and then they ran downstairs.

But Sal had it all under control. As soon as the man fell to the ground, thinking he had made his escape, Sal was on him. He grabbed him up, and began beating the shit out of him.

Gemma was amazed by what she was seeing. That guy literally jumped out of a closed window he wanted to get away from Sal’s men that badly. Only to have Sal in the right spot at the right time to continue the beat down.

Gemma saw Robby Yale and two other guys run out of the house to assist their boss, and they began kicking him while he was down too. But Sal needed no assistance. He was on one knee, with the guy now on the ground again, and was punching away.

“Give me a name!” Sal was yelling. “Give me a name or I’ll kill your ass in these woods and leave you for the animals to eat!”

But the guy was talking Spanish hysterically, as if it was all a big misunderstanding. But even Gemma could tell there was no name being offered up.

And Sal kept punching and yelling for him to tell him who stole his shipment. “Give me a name!” he kept yelling. “Give me a motherfucking name!”

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