I turn my attention back to the men, both have guns though most wouldn’t notice the way the men’s jackets lay, but they weren’t trained to see these things by Cobra.
“Bitch, this has nothing to do with you,” the one behind Skelli says, and I don’t contain the cold laughter I feel at that comment. Both men stare at me warily now, like I finally did something worthy of noticing.
“Actually,” I straighten my spine, straightening to my full height of 5’10”, “you made it my business when you approached my friend Skelli, you also made it my business when you go around asking after me.”
Their bodies shifted, Skelli now forgotten, they both surge forward, apparently capture on their mind, and while I wonder what the hell has them looking for me, the daughter of an exotic dancer, since that’s all that is associated with that name, I shift my feet ever so slightly.
The one who slapped Skelli comes at me fast, so I take him down fast, delivering a quick but hard kick to the side of his knee, and hear the promising sound of what is usually a dislocated joint, while he buckles in pain. The second suit see this and stops up short, trying to quickly asses his best options.
Behind him, I see Skelli move, and since this is the first time I’ve come to the booth, I just notice the door, nearly invisible with how flush it is with the wall, covered in the same decorative velvet that’s draped on the walls. I notice it open, but my attention turns back to the second suit.
He’s pulling his gun and points it directly at me. It’s not the first time I’ve had a gun pointed in my face.
“You’re Elda,” he says voice slightly incredulous, and while it doesn’t sound like a question, I feel the need to correct him.
“I was Elda.” I shrug, like this explains everything.
“I have to bring you in,” he says, like this should matter to me, “We can do this peacefully.” He says, and I laugh.
“You’re holding a Sig Sauer…P938 if I’m correct… in my face and think I believe that whatever this is, it’s going to be peaceful? What type of idiot do you take me for?” I can’t help but to ask.
While I’m talking, he shifts closer, his eyes pinching tight, and while his index finger isn’t moving, I can tell he’s sweating by the gleam of the small led lights that flash to the music that’s still playing.
“I’ll put a bullet in your brain before you can blink,” I step to the side angling my body to look at the suits as well as the burly man from the stairs.
He has a Glock G19 pulled, and I’m not proud to admit that I’m not exactly sure where he pulled it from. For a second I think he has it directed at me, but quickly realize he has his big steady hands trained on the second suit. I can see that he is not sweating, and he looks calm cool and collected while holding his gun, unlike suit number two.
I’m too busy watching them that I don’t pay enough attention. Suit number one, who never fell completely down is pressing his own P938 to the side of my head as Skelli calls my name a second too late.
“Really?” I mutter, not nearly as phased by this as I probably should be, but then again I live in a world that’s run by violence and while this shit doesn’t happen every day, especially now that Phoenix is well known, it has happened enough that I know showing fear and being afraid aren’t going to help me one bit.
“Drop your fucking weapon, Conti,” Suit One says.
I weigh my options as Burly, I mean Conti or whatever, makes his decision on if he’s going to comply. I could try to outmaneuver him, it’s possible, especially since Suit One is more focused on Conti than on me. But there’s always the chance he could hit Skelli, or even the Conti guy and while I don’t know him from Adam, he hasn’t done anything to warrant taking a bullet for me or anyone else that I can say.
In the split second before I decide to act and go for the gun I hear the tall tell sound of a gun being cocked and look behind Suit One to see Cobra coming out of the door hidden by the matching velvet, he was probably in whatever room lays beyond the door waiting, biding his time for his perfect move, like the creepy ass chess player he is.
“Drop it,” is all Cobra says with that James Earl Jones voice of his.
Suit number one drops his gun without a thought, not willing to take chances with his life it seems. Before the second suit can make up his mind, Conti or Burly or whoever he is on him in one of the most impressive tackles I’ve ever seen, simultaneously shoving the gun out of his hands as he shoves him to the ground. Cobra is shoving his own handgun to the back of Suit One’s head.
Conti grabs Suit Two in a hold pinning him down.
“Priest?”
It’s all cobra has to say, after this long I know what he’s asking.
“Yeah, I’m good, Cobra. Don’t know who suit one and suit two are, big guy met me at the stairs, and the suits were asking after me…well after Elda…Oh and they called the big guy Conti” I say, now leaning against the half wall that lets Skelli look on the crowd. The commotion by the door seems resolved by the sound of it, though I don’t look to confirm.
Cobra nods his head and looks at Skelli, and she nods and after clicking a few things on her laptop that’s situated at her station, she heads downstairs, probably beelining it to the bar to get some ice on that cheek.
“So, who wants to talk first? It’s not every day I have men threatening my DJ or a mafia man in my house.” Cobra says and I know that this last part was for keeping me informed, and to let the man know that Cobra’s more plugged in than what they might think of him.
Burly gives a dark chuckle, looking me directly in the eye, his dark eyes feeling like dark pools ready to drag a woman into its depths before pulling her in an endless embrace or dragging her to its dark hole and burying her there. I couldn’t tell which way he was thinking in my case.
“I’m here for her,” he says, answering Cobra but eyes still on me, “I’m Alessandro Durante. I was sent to protect Elda Joan Conti, by Alonzo Conti.”
I arch my eyebrow, and look at Cobra, and for the first time since I’ve met him, Cobra looked uncomfortable and…like he was caught.
“I’ve been known as Elda,” I tell the guy, but continue, “But, I’m a Seely. Never heard of any Conti’s before.”
Alessandro
Giovani is going to be glad that he sent me instead of Luca. One look at our new charge and Luca would have ended string up by his toes and beaten for looking at Alonzo Conti’s daughter. She’s beautiful, but more than that, she exudes the same dangerous don’t-fuck-with-me-and-mine aura that Alonzo has. That aura draws men like us to him as it will to her, because men like us need someone to control the leashes, to keep us bound by rules.
That aura combined with her curvaceous body, long curly hair that was obviously bleached a honeyed blonde, perfectly brown skin, and green eyes made her stand out even more.
“Never heard of any Conti’s before,” she says, her mother’s Bajan accent strong.
Luca might have ended up getting himself killed.
She’s looking at the other man, Cobra Taylor according to the information the privet eye uncovered. Cobra, head and founder of the Phoenix gang, with Priest, or Elda, as one of the founding members.