Mobster's Gamble: Chicago Mob Series Book 1 by Amy Rachiele, Christine Leporte Read Free Book Online

think much of it. Recruiting a new member was on my mind. I gave him a pamphlet and suggested he make an appointment to meet with Priest.” He lowers his whole body, closing himself up, and finishes with, “Today, Priest just anointed one of the people I saw in the car as a new member. I don’t think he is who he says he is.”
    I soak it up, every word Simon is telling me, and I’m not surprised. This situation seems very off but I smile anyway.
    “Don’t worry, there’s nothing wrong with what you did. Priest isn’t stupid and if he believes this gentleman is a legitimate member then we have to respect that. Let it go.” I reassure him the best I can even though I don’t believe what I am saying for a minute.
    Finally, the charade with Caesar and dinner is finally over and all of the dishes have been put away.
    Priest approaches me, backing me into a corner with his nostrils flaring. My back meets the wall as he corrals me. We are alone in the meditation room.
    “Did Simon tell you something today?” He narrows his eyes, waiting for an answer. I bite my lip, thinking. Simon should have gone directly to Priest with any information or visitors to the compound. Fear kept him from telling. Simon has every right to be afraid. I slip my hands out and place my palms against the wall.
    “No,” I respond, crossing two fingers behind my back like I saw my mother do many times when speaking to Priest’s father. I learned later it is a superstitious act of defiance against the leader. A way of lying with abandonment. I still do it, attempting to get away with something with a clear conscience. It seems juvenile to me now but a way of coping.
    Priest cocks a disapproving eyebrow at me and his hand lands on the wall right next to mine, pinning me.
    “Simon didn’t say anything to me,” I reiterate with all the sincerity I can muster. Priest pushes off the wall, and I pick up a muttered snarl. He saunters down the hallway to his chamber. I let out a breath and head for the kitchen, swallowing my fright.
    Joseph and I lock up, switching all of the lights off. I wave a good-night to him and head for my new bedroom with Missy. The new member, Caesar, rests against the casing of the door to his room. I rub my hands down my arms from the shiver I get passing by him. He smirks at me and my eyes, filled with contempt, hold his gaze before I look away.
    I enter the room two doors down from his and close it. Missy is already in bed half asleep. I go to the closet and get a white cotton nightgown. Two more great things about living with Missy and not Priest is that I can wear clothes to bed and the room temperature is much more comfortable than the harsh coldness I’ve had to live with for so many years.
    I slip under the covers and pull them up tight to my neck. It doesn’t take long before I slip off into sleep.
    A light streams down hitting me in the face. A woman’s shape appears. “Mom?” I question, reaching my hand out.
    “Hello, sweet girl,” she says. “It’s better this way.”
    A hand clamps down over my lips and the sheet is ripped off me. It takes me a few seconds to realize I’m not in my dream anymore. Strong hands grab my left arm then another one grabs my right. I twist and flail, trying to free myself. Behind the salty hand, I try to scream but it’s muffled and I strain my throat ripping at my vocal cords. Desperately, I yank and pull at my limbs, but from what I can make out in the darkness four people have me and a fifth is tying my mouth with a cloth. I try to turn my head to see if I can find Missy in the darkness. Her bed is empty. Tears gather in the corners of my eyes, ramping up my fear.
    Foreign shadows are gripping and pulling. My eyes water and my heart thumps wildly. I don’t know who has me but I am suspended above the floor. The tugging on my limbs makes my joints ache as I’m carried through the house in the blackness. With a gag over my mouth and flailing around futilely, I wait,