Ch 5

With her much fair speech she caused him to yield, with the flattering of her lips she forced him.

Till a dart strike through his liver; as a bird hasteth to the snare, and knoweth not that it is for his life. (Prov. 7:21, 7:23 KJV)

The past two days had been uneventful at best. Each day Elizabeth packed up things at her studio. Then she would go to her Grandmother's house and go through all the stuff there. She was going to plan a major yard sale before she moved to New York. She had not given up on her desire to study in the city. She thought that renting the house out would help give her the income she needed for school. Rick had talked to almost all of her family and they seemed to agree to let Elizabeth have the house. Only her sister, Sarah, was being difficult. Elizabeth finally told her if she was so concerned she should get on a plane and come help her with all the details. The next day Rick had received a fax from her giving permission for Elizabeth to keep the house. Every afternoon Rick met Elizabeth and they went out for a drive in her grandmother's land boat. Elizabeth had affectionately named the car Bertha. She was still having a hard time parallel parking. Rick said it was because the car was so large and cumbersome to drive. Still, her driving was coming along well and once she figured out the parking, she was going to take the test.

After every lesson they would go to dinner. One night, it was Luke's where they had a great time dancing after they ate. Rick was a good dancer. When she teased him about it he revealed he had a sister and that their mother made him take some ballroom style dance lessons when they were kids. Yesterday, she introduced him to Jake's. She found him to be a decent pool player, but not anywhere near as good as Jason. She found that she was spending a lot of time comparing Rick to Jason. It was silly she told herself. They were nothing alike. Rick was charming, thoughtful, and always a gentleman. Jason was, well, Jason. Seeing Rick had become the highlight of her days. When her phone rang and Rick's number appeared on the caller ID she sang a happy hello into the receiver. Only to be disappointed that he could not make it today. 'It was just as well,' she told herself. She had a lot to do at the studio. Tonight would be her last night there. Tomorrow the people from Goodwill were coming for the couch and other donated items. Then she would take the last items over to her grandmother's house. Not to much longer, and the building she had long thought of as home, would not even exist any more.

*

Courtney paced around the loft biting at her cuticles. Where was Jason? The court had dismissed almost two hours ago. It was not Jason she was worried about but Mike. She had run into him on the docks earlier. He confided that the horse he had bet on had not come through, and now he owed almost $150,000. He was suppose to meet with this man tonight about the money. Courtney knew he would never be able to get the money, and she was panicked by what might happen. The door finally opened and the man she was anticipating entered. "Jason!" she rushed to him, throwing her arms around his neck. He hugged her back but quickly pulled her away from him when he felt the tension in her body. He looked down into her eyes that were as wild as a cornered alley cat.

"What's wrong? Did something happen?"

She pulled from him and moved to sit on the sofa. He took her hand and sat down next to her. "It's Mike," she began. "He now owes $150,000 to that bookie I told you about." Jason took a deep breath. He knew this was not going to end well. "He is going to meet with the guy tonight. He doesn't have the money, and I'm worried about what they will do to him."

"Do you know where this meeting is supposed to take place?" He got up and reached into his pocket pulling out his phone.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm going to call Sonny."

"No, you can't!" she tried to grab his phone. "Can't you do something without getting my brother involved?" He studied her pleading eyes. He thought about the last time a beautiful woman had asked him to do something Sonny would not like. It had gotten him into the position that Sonny questioned his loyalty. "Please, Jason." He just could not refuse her appeal.

*

The moonless night seemed darker than usual as Jason neared the alley that Mike was to meet with his bookie's man. Jason noticed a light on in the studio that belonged to Elizabeth. The alley they were meeting at was only a block from her building. Jason started to think it was best that she would soon be living someplace else soon, seeing how Tagliatti was using this location for dangerous liaisons. He had planned to stay out of sight and only watch what went down. He was hoping the guy would give Mike some more time to get the money, and that would give him some more time to figure out a solution.

No one was aware of his presence as he found a vantage point behind a darkened, but especially smelly, dumpster. He did not have to wait long before Mike turned the corner and started down the deserted alley. Jason watched as the man fidgeted nervously. Mike continually shifted his weight between his feet. He might have felt better if he had known Jason was there watching the situation. Courtney was the only one who knew that Jason was going to try and help Mike, but she had no idea what he had hoped to do. Jason had decided that if things got a bit rough he would step in and try and defuses the situation. He was hoping that Tagliatti's men would back down if they thought that Sonny was involved. He was not real sure that it would work. They had to know that Mike was Sonny's father; yet, they were still here in the midst of a shakedown.

Another ten minuets passed before three large men in dark suits approached the rendezvous point. Jason could feel the tiny hairs on the back of his neck stand up. This was not going to go as planned. He pulled his gun, took the safety off and tucked it back under his shirt. He would need to be ready, but he needed first to look unarmed. Like he ever was not.

The three men encircled Mike. Jason heard Mike laugh nervously. The two younger men took their ready, one on each side of Mike. The shorter, heavier one faced off with him. "So, Mr. Corbin," it had begun. Jason stood ready. "Where is the money?"

"Now, you need to give me some more time. It has not even been a day." Mike's voice sounded strangely calm for someone in his position. He even offered a friendly little smile.

"You should know better than that, Mr. Corbin. Mr. Tagliatti is not a patient man." With that, the two men poised at his sides jumped in, grabbing each of his arms. Mike struggled, but they tightened their grips. The front man leaned in and sharply jabbed Mike in the stomach. Jason still did not move. This was regular treatment for offenders and should only last for a few blows. Then there would be the warning statement. The man would give him a time table to get the money. They would release Mike, and this round would be over.

Mike coughed as his legs gave way a bit. The two strong men held him in place as he other man reached in his jacket. Jason sucked in his breath as the man revealed the revolver. He had stared to move to reveal himself when a shot whistled through the stale air. Mike yelped from the sharp pain in his thigh. Jason moved feverously. The group had their backs to him, and Jason's advance was quiet. He could not see that the wound was intentionally only superficial. Tagliatti must be looking for a war, and Jason was certainly not planning to lose the first battle.

The certain quick movements of Sonny's enforcer brought him upon the group in mere seconds. The men were giving their warnings to Mike when Jason placed the barrel of his weapon against the back of the head of the shorter man. With his left hand, he tore the man's pistol away, tossing it into a nearby open dumpster. He could see over the goon and down at Mike. He observed the injury and instinctively knew it had been given as a gesture toward Sonny. "Back off!" Jason instructed the other men as the one under his control turned around to meet his weapon straight on.

"Well, good evening, Mr. Morgan." The older man smirked. "So, to what do we owe the pleasure of your company tonight."

"This ends here and now." Jason stepped even closer to the man.

Jason had been so occupied with keeping track of the other two enforcers that he had not watched the man's hands that stood before him. "I think you are right, Mr. Morgan." Jason's vacant eyes refocused on the man's, just as Tagliati's thug lunged forward.

Air raced from his body. Something sharp pierced his torso repeatedly. He felt a sudden stinging and then the sensation of molasses, warm and thick, spreading over his skin. He sank under his own weight. Hearing the man chuckling gave Jason the notion that he must be in a dream. He could feel the cold asphalt on his cheek as he rested. Then his body quickly jolted at the sharp pop in his ears.