Smoke, page 21
Alessandro hesitantly withdrew the pistol from his mouth, threads and globs of saliva stretching from his lips to the barrel. He shivered and his eyes darkened as he released the weapon’s magazine from the grip into his shaking hand. The clip wasn’t empty. A single bullet remained.
The Ruspanti palmed the magazine back into the Walther PPK and, with a determined grunt, swung the muzzle toward Theo.
Smoke’s reaction was pure reflex, an acute and brutal split-second survival response. He twisted the gun in Alessandro’s grip, snapping, and ripping the finger within the trigger guard and forcing the barrel back through shattered teeth and into the depths of the Ruspanti’s mouth, thudding his head back against the glass.
The gun’s report was loud and echoing.
The 32-caliber ripped through the Ruspanti, shattering the back of his skull to crack and spider the broad expanse of the laminated window behind him from edge to edge. The pressure in the mirrored installation noticeably dropped, air coursing through the remnants of Alessandro’s head and out the precise bullet hole drilled through the glass. The air rush escalated into a horrendous shrieking whistle, the wind shear outside the ninety-first floor gusting, sucking at the sloppy crimson gore to halo it across the outside of the building.
Chapter Forty-Eight
It was almost 4 p.m.
Sun filtered through the industrial windows of Tommy’s West Village loft. The light bounced across the burnished wood floor, making the room glow and highlighting the reading nook with its hundreds of books, framing Dannii’s photo-realistic painting of Theo. His eyes as blue as Tommy’s. His smile as incorrigible. His hands reaching out toward the viewer. Foot, knee, and hand prints made indelible marks across the lower part of the portrait where Dannii had coaxed Theo to amble across the still-wet paint.
Andrea stretched in the warmth of the sun rays, resting bare feet on Tommy’s oversized cowhide ottoman. A metal cage encircled his upper leg, stabilizing titanium rods protruding from his thigh. He added an exuberant yawn to the stretch before licking a fist full of painkillers into his mouth and swallowing them dry. Then he tossed the bottle of pills along the length of the sectional toward Tommy.
“You’re a lucky guy,” Andrea said. “No one could ever doubt Theo worships the ground you walk on. There’s a love every boy deserves to have with his father. And Jenny and Dannii obviously adore you, too.”
Tommy smiled, leaning into the cushions, his legs extended along the couch toward Andrea. He held an icepack to his chest. Another draped across his calf and ankle.
“It’s a relief Lucy and Gabrielle were able to smooth out most of the bumps over the last several days,” Tommy said. “Painted me as a hero in all this fucking mess, rather than the reason Theo was in danger to begin with.”
Andrea gently grasped Tommy’s foot and rubbed his thumb against the pads of his toes.
“Did you ever want a family, Andrea?”
The Italian’s lip curled. “I have a family that I love. I have my mamma. My fratellos. And now I have you.”
Tommy tilted his head. “I thought you said you were an orphan?”
“No. I said I was a bastard.” He chuckled. “The fact of which both my mamma and I are quite proud.”
“Do you know your father?”
“We have a relationship. An understanding. And as long as he keeps my mamma happy whenever she visits him in Bellagio, he knows I won’t kill him.”
Andrea’s bluntness made Tommy smile. He wondered who his own father was. Whether he was also still alive.
“You and your family shall spend the summer with us at our estate near Firenze, if you wish,” Andrea said. “My mamma’s cooking and the countryside will help us all recuperate. The pool is decent enough for laps, and the olive groves throughout the valley are littered with trails for you and I to build our strength and agility. Our friendship and fidelity. And Theo... That young man is certain to return a foot taller and speaking fluent Toscana. As he should.”
Tommy’s cell vibrated and the doorbell camera flashed on the screen. “It’s Lucy,” he said, tapping the icon to buzz open the doors. He pulled on the new blue and green camouflage tank top Gabrielle had gifted him, adjusted himself, and tightened the drawstring of his pajama shorts.
“One thing before Lucy arrives, fratello. The House may not be aware of the extra zeros I diverted into your account.” Andrea shifted his weight, grimacing, to sweep the robe across his bare hip and thigh, and half-heartedly knot the sash.
“What are you talking about?”
“I cleared the distribution of funds from Jameson’s escrow account through the Palazzo. It’s well earned and will secure your future, and your family’s.”
Tommy’s mind spun as Andrea’s words sank in. He stood and hobbled toward the kitchen to start the coffee percolating. It wasn’t until he’d settled on a barstool, and Lucy had pushed in through the foyer doors, that he fully comprehended what Andrea had said.
Lucy dropped her satchel on the kitchen island and sat beside Tommy.
“Do you need me to leave you two alone?” Andrea asked.
Lucy shook her head. “No need. I’m sure you’ll find out soon enough, anyway. Have you spoken to Nathan Lucas?” she asked Tommy.
“Nate? Yeah. Just yesterday. He’ll be moving into my rental on the other side of the block.”
“Do you think that’s wise?”
“Yes, I do.”
“Good. I’m glad. I think so too.” She settled her hand on the marble island beside Tommy’s, her fingers warm against his. “The House is performing all required due diligence, of course. So far, he’s come up clean. I can’t make any promises, but his resume is more than impressive. He may be useful.”
The percolator gurgled, and Tommy circled the island and pulled down three espresso cups from the shelf. A bouquet of coffee with chocolate and caramel undertones filled the room. He poured the espressos and slid a cup toward Lucy.
“Hey,” he said. “I owe you an apology. Several, I guess. Thank you for everything you’ve done. I’m sorry I didn’t trust you when I really should have.”
“I understand,” she said. She brushed her fingers against his, but then stopped, glancing over her shoulder at Andrea. Then she slipped her electronic pad from her satchel.
“The local investigation is officially closed, with the coroner matching Giordano’s DNA signature with the seminal fluid collected at each of the kill sites.”
“I thought you had replacement samples shipping in from Europe somewhere.”
“This was a cleaner solution. It tidied up the loose ends and gave them a body. Someone to blame.”
Tommy wondered how the fuck they got access to Giordano’s semen and then swapped the samples with his own, but he didn’t ask.
Lucy’s face was unreadable as she concentrated on the pad.
On the far side of the room, Andrea pressed his lips tight, his stare intent on Tommy. Also unreadable.
A thought suddenly struck Tommy. “Pirrelli and Giordano were trying to kill me. They knew I was staying with Simone at the Palace Hotel. And they had to know I was in the twins’ hotel room because it had to be them who dumped Elgan in the bed next to me. Why didn’t they just kill me? They had plenty of opportunity. Why play that horrific game with Nate? With Theo?”
“Why does a cat play with a mouse before ending its life?” Andrea said.
Cat and mouse—il gatto e il topo.
Who had said that? Was it Moretti?
Tommy shook his head. To hell with it. He didn’t care. Giordano and Pirrelli were dead. Jameson was dead. The money was disbursed. Incentive no longer existed. It was over.
He let out a deep steady breath. “So, now we go back to normal.”
“No,” Lucy said. “You are being temporarily reassigned. A change in duty and family due to escalating and immediate threats that take precedence over your current charge. Your skills will translate to the new circumstances.
Tommy looked at Andrea, then back to Lucy. “I don’t get it. Reassigned... For how long?”
“Four years. Maybe more.”
“Four years?”
“This has been under consideration for several months,” Lucy said. “And recent events have only confirmed the necessity and suitability of your reassignment. Especially as several in your current appointment have become, shall we say, familiar with your skillset?”
Tommy immediately thought of Eleonora. Of Rafaella. And his intimate moments with each of them.
“I’m still more than capable of carrying out my job,” he said.
“Of that, I have no doubt. And neither does the Director. You are being reassigned within the Secret Service. Specifically, to the detail protecting the First Family.”
Tommy carefully placed his espresso cup onto its saucer, his eyes wide.
“It will be a major drop in salary,” Lucy said. “But I suspect that won’t be a hardship for you considering the financial outcome of Grand Central Madison.” A gentle smirk dimpled her cheeks.
Of course, she knows, Tommy thought.
“I’ll ensure you have adequate time to recuperate from your injuries, but by early fall you’ll report to our facility in Maryland for the required reconditioning and training. Mainly in working as part of a team. Something I’ve seen firsthand that you should breeze through. Honestly, I wish we could have shipped you down sooner, before this mess here in Manhattan, before the threats against the President’s family had heightened to their current state.”
Tommy stirred sugar into his coffee and sipped the swirling layer of crema, his thoughts racing ahead of him of what was to come.
Chapter Forty-Nine
The First Lady of the United States, Nichelle Alexander, looked out the tinted glass gymnasium window on the fortieth floor of the Four Seasons hotel. To the south, the rising sun reflected from the art déco windows of Rockefeller Center, with other less dramatic structures striking up into the golden early morning view. Her skin shone from an hour on the treadmill. Six miles. A good run.
There was hesitation in her movement and he knew she’d noticed him crouched amongst the darkest shadows of exercise machinery. She turned from the window, biting her lower lip as she clenched her fists to confront him.
Apart from the two of them, the room was empty. The entire floor was empty. The Secret Service had sealed it the night before, as well as the floors above and below. Still, he was able to bypass their security measures.
He’d waited long enough to make his move, to teach her the lesson she needed to learn.
He lunged at her. She sidestepped, but he pivoted and knocked her to the ground, both of them landing with a dull thud next to the elliptical. Gripping her around the neck, he yanked her tight against his body, the strength of his thighs holding her kicking legs securely as he wrenched her torso.
No one would hear her screams.
No one would come to her rescue.
Not this time.
Nichelle squirmed and jabbed her elbow into his ribs to little effect. She tried to bite him. Then she twisted and swung a fist down into his crotch, delivering a miscalculated and indecisive blow to his balls. He grunted and fell sideways, momentarily stunned. It was enough for her to scramble on top and straddle his prone body, to knee him in the lumbar, and adroitly yank his arm around behind his back. She pulled up, bending his wrist back at an awkward angle. Hard. For a moment, he did not move, the throbbing ache between his legs piercing right up into the depths of his gut. Dulling his senses. But then he arched, flexed, and rolled beneath her onto his back, his shorts riding up and to the side, his chest heaving beneath the sweat-drenched polo shirt from the unexpected exertion. The disconcerting retaliation from someone known mostly for walking red carpets in lavish Ralph Lauren gowns, decorating the gardens and halls of the White House for Easter Egg Hunts and State Dinners.
Aroused with the intimate contact of her comeback, he slid his groin from beneath the moist heat of her buttocks and thrust his legs up behind her. He grabbed her torso with his bare feet and ankles and slammed her down against the floor.
He didn’t expect her to go for his groin again, but she did. A proven weakness in any man. Both for pain and pleasure. She shoved a hand past the meaty length of his cock to grip his balls through the flimsy cotton shorts. She squeezed tight, wrenching, digging her nails deep into the crawling skin of his scrotum. Drawing blood. The added twist made him gag, the pain radiating, burning along every nerve in his body. He involuntarily loosened his legs, and she launched herself up, to come down hard on his chest, striking both her fists against his heart, making it skip a beat. She screamed, a wild creature, as she gripped his larynx, urging her fingers deep behind the cartilage, and roughly dug a nail into the crease of his eyelid. His eyeball instantly throbbed and shot with blood. Their faces were inches apart, noses touching, both breathing deep of each other’s urgent breath.
“I win this one, Special Agent Smoke,” she said, dropping her gaze to the fullness of his mouth, the bite of his tongue between his teeth.
That was the distraction he’d expected. Had waited for. The lesson she still needed to learn after their months of training. Months of building her confidence. Her strength and tactics. Her agility and skill. And still he had no qualms about manhandling the First Lady of the United States for her own good.
He flipped her sideways to throw her down onto her back.
She grunted with the impact, and he rolled on top of her, pushing all the breath from her lungs and pinning her legs with his, gripping her wrists and forcing her arms out wide, her breasts flattened beneath the swell of his chest.
He had her completely immobilized.
Both their bodies firm and hot and slicked with perspiration.
Sweat dripped from his lips onto hers.
THE END
Cast
The House
Lucy O’Donnell
Gabrielle Davis
Thomas Smoke
The Palazzo Pitti
Simone Moretti
Gianetta (Simone’s handler. Unseen)
The Ruspanti
Capitano Andrea Cioni
Alessandro Pirrelli (retired)
Dante Giordano (retired)
Innocenti
Sangallo
Conti
Amidei
The Family
Eleonora di Toledo
Rafaella di Toledo
Daan Stuyvesant (retired)
Angi Stuyvesant, née di Toledo (retired)
Jameson De Vries (retired)
Giulia Rossi (Jameson’s wife) (retired)
Aloïs Laurent / Aloysius Laurentius (retired)
Mathéo Laurent / Matteo Laurentius (retired)
Luca De Vries (Jameson’s son)
Hannah O’Donnell (Luca’s bride)
Augustus (Gus) di Toledo
Felice di Toledo (Gus’s husband)
Related Retirements
Elgan Glyndwr (retired)
Liz Bayer (retired)
Collateral Damage
Nate/Nathan Lucas
Jenny
Dannii
Theo
Supporting Cast
Hugh Danvers
Julianne
Introducing
Nichelle Alexander, FLOTUS
Location
New York City, NY, USA.
Novels by P.J. Parker
Roxelana and Suleyman
“Fascinating” “Intriguing”
America Tuwaqachi: The Saga of an American Family
“Masterful” “Unforgettable”
Fire on the Water: A Companion to Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein
“Tremendous” “Impressive”
Origin of the Vampyre: A Companion to Doctor Polidori’s The Vampyre
“Compelling” “Page turner”
Smoke
“Fascinating” “WOW!”
Don't miss out!
Click the button below and you can sign up to receive emails whenever P. J. Parker publishes a new book. There's no charge and no obligation.
https://books2read.com/r/B-P-ZAZJ-ICBYE
https://books2read.com/r/B-P-ZAZJ-ICBYE
Connecting independent readers to independent writers.
Did you love Smoke? Then you should read America Túwaqachi: The Saga of an American Family by P. J. Parker!
A historical adventure that catapults the reader through the millennia.The son of the Great White Bear was the first to become a man on this new land, Tuwaqachi, at the age of seven. It was a life of danger and adventure. Yet even the wisest shaman could never have foreseen the immense journey ahead.Follow the Great White Bear Clan through 18,000 years of adventure, civilization, invasion, slavery, war, revolution, espionage, independence, discovery, and romance.A Grand Family Saga on a scale never before attempted. One that upholds the values of the country we have built.The legend of America and our family begins here.
Read more at P. J. Parker’s site.
Also by P. J. Parker
Companion Series
Fire on the Water: A Companion to Mary Shelley's Frankenstein
Origin of the Vampyre: A Companion to Doctor Polidori's The Vampyre
The Companion Series
Standalone
Roxelana & Suleyman
America Túwaqachi: The Saga of an American Family
Smoke
Watch for more at P. J. Parker’s site.
