Page 127 of Working for the Mob

“Jim. Get the girls,” Valuncia said to the man on his right.

Jim Valuncia, the brother with a hook nose and greased hair. I was supposed to have negotiated with him the morning Genevieve arrived in East Lannington. The brother nodded and slithered into the depths of the mansion.

“I’m sure you don’t mind waiting up here with me?” Valuncia asked.

Lance and I shared a look. A worry line creased his forehead.

Most of my life he’d been a shitty excuse for a brother, but at the moment all I wanted to do was say thank you. I expected him to let Valuncia have both the Baker girls, but here he was, putting his life on the line to get them free.

We exchanged a nod and I trudged up the steps of the loading dock to stand before Valuncia. The mob boss grinned wickedly at me. Finally victorious over the Necci brothers.

“The girls?” I asked him, but scrapes and bangs from the upstairs of the factory stole all our attention.

Blood pounded in my ears. Whatever they were doing to the girls, this wasn’t part of the deal.

“What the hell’s that?” I shouted.

Metal gongs accentuated footsteps as Jim ran down the stairs, his eyes wide and anxious. He leaned into Lawrence’s ear and whispered something I couldn’t hear.

Valuncia’s expression flickered. He whistled between his teeth and one of his goons accompanied Jim back up the stairs.

Valunica shouted loud enough for everyone to hear. “Nothing to worry about. The show’s over.” He seized my arm in a vice grip and lowered his voice. “And you’re coming with me.”

Our heads jerked at the crash of a window breaking.

Valuncia cursed and while his head was turned, I saw my window of opportunity open. I pulled my hands apart and the poorly tied ropes fell to the wooden deck.

“Hey Larry!” I shouted, and the second Valuncia’s head turned back, I threw all my weight behind a perfectly placed punch to his face.

I groaned as pain blossomed in my hand. Punching Valuncia was akin to punching a tree, and the man barely recoiled at the blow.

Gunshots erupted around us. At least one of Valuncia dropped as the rest ducked for cover and returned fire.

Lawrence ignored them and reached into his coat pocket. I gulped when he pulled out a straight razor.

I kept my eyes concentrated on the blade and he used that as an opportunity to swing with his free fist to the side of my head. My head exploded in pain and lights clouded my vision. I hit the concrete deck hard.

I rolled out of his reach and pushed myself up, shaking my head to clear my vision.

I got it back just in time to see the blade flash at me. I grabbed his wrist and punched his arm as hard as I could. The razor blade flew into the night. I almost breathed a sigh of relief.

He swung at me again and I stepped back, but his knuckles clipped my jaw and I tumbled down the front stairs. I needed my damn gun.

Each stair drove into my back until I landed in a heap of dust on the driveway.

“Art!” Henry cried.

I found him taking cover behind my new car. I just bought that thing and now it’d be covered in bullet holes.

Two goons descended the steps towards me. I struggled to get up, and just before they could grab me, they fell with bullet wounds.

“We got you covered, Art!” Miss Dunham’s voice called out through the night sky.

We had posted both ladies in the old factory behind us on our drive over. They weren’t lying. They could really shoot!

I stumbled the ten feet to the car.

“You okay?” Lance asked me over the gunfire.

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