Taming Theresa (26 page)

John jerked Theresa back behind him. “Stay
back!” he hissed.

“I've got no idea what money you're talking
about, Tony," she whimpered from behind John. "I never saw any
money, and he's not my boyfriend, but please don’t hurt him!"

She twisted around again and put herself
between John and Tony. "I'm so sorry John. This is all my fault.
I'm so sorry I got you into this.”

Quickly, John shoved her back behind him.
"Listen, Tony. Don't do anything that's only going to land you in
jail. Terry's telling the truth. We’ve got no idea what you're
talking about."

"Would you two assholes stand still?" The gun
wavered back and forth. "The box was in your car Terry, then I seen
it at the wedding with all this crap here." He gestured wildly at
the presents he’d knocked to the floor.

Theresa stepped from behind John and whined,
“We don’t have any money!”

"It was there. I seen it, I'm telling you, so
I know it's gotta be somewheres. If I don't have it in two minutes,
youse both are gonna lose a kneecap."

John pushed her back and ordered, “Stay
behind me.”

"Oh sweet mother of God," said Theresa softly
as tears filled her eyes.

John barely heard her, but was surprised when
she stepped in front of him again.

She pointed a finger at Tony. Her hand
trembling and her voice quavering, she said, “Get out of this house
now."

Pointing the gun at her, Tony’s hand
shook.

John elbowed her aside and pushed her into
the corner, inserting himself between Theresa and the revolver.
"Listen Tony," he began.

"No, you listen to me. I told you two
assholes to stand still. You maybe think I ain't serious. I'll show
you different."

The gunshot, echoing in the enclosed space,
was deafening. Before John or Terry had time to react, a second
shot rang out. John whipped around, fearing Theresa had been hurt.
She was standing behind him, motionless, so she must be all right.
Slowly he turned his head to see a pair of round black holes in the
wall a foot from his head.

Tony was like a madman, eyes wide and
gesturing with the revolver. "Cut the crap! I'm not foolin' here.
You got about thirty seconds to hand over that money or kiss your
kneecaps goodbye. He fired again, this time blowing the glass out
of the window just a few feet to John's right.

“John realized that his ears were ringing.
Listen to me, Tony; shooting us isn’t going to help. We don’t have
the money. What you're doing could mean jail time," he said as
quietly and calmly as he could.

"If I don't get that money pronto, I'd be a
hell of a lot safer, I was in jail," yelled Tony.

The front door crashed open.

"Freeze! Federal agents! DePalma, drop the
weapon. You're under arrest." Christopher Owen stood in the archway
to the dining room, blue eyes blazing, both hands gripping an
automatic aimed at Tony’s head.

"Oh my god, I'm a dead man," whimpered Tony.
The gun slipped from his hand, landing with a dull thud.

The FBI agent darted a glance around the
room, settling on John's startled face. "Is everyone all right?" he
asked, as he deftly gave the gun a kick, sending it skating across
the floor, out of Tony's reach.

Stunned, John and Theresa nodded.

"Is your back door locked?" said Owen.

Again, John nodded.

Turning to Theresa Chris said, “My partner is
coming through the back. She can be a little impulsive. Don't be
alarmed if she breaks down your door."

Theresa jumped into John’s arms and screamed
as the sound of splintering wood and breaking glass came from the
kitchen.

A shrill voice yelled, “Federal Agents!”

"Under control in here, Rodriguez!” Chris
called out, and began reading Tony his rights.

A slender dark haired woman in tight jeans
and a navy-blue jacket emblazoned with the FBI logo, rushed into
the room, quickly scanning the area, asking, "Is everyone all right
in here?"

"Yeah, I think so," mumbled John.

"Sorry about your back door," she said,
pulling handcuffs from her pocket and approaching Tony.

John put his arms around Theresa to comfort
her. She was in shock, rooted to the floor behind him. Taking her
hand, he led her into the living room and pushed her into a soft
chair.

Dazed, she kept mumbling, "John, I'm so
sorry. I had no idea Tony was such a nut job. He could have killed
us. Oh my god, this was entirely my fault. I'm sorry I got you into
this."

As she sniffled and babbled on about Tony, he
went to the kitchen and returned with a glass of brandy. Theresa
jumped up and wrapped herself around John, clinging to him.

"Here, drink this.” She took the glass and he
scooped her up and sat down with her in his lap. “Babe, it's not
your fault. It's not anyone's fault. You don't have to apologize.”
Tucking her head under his chin, he stroked her back. “The
important thing is, it’s over. The cops have him now. You don't
have to worry. Now, come on, drink this."

She nodded, tears spilling down her cheeks.
She sipped and set the glass down. "John, I was so scared. He
almost shot you. I've never been that scared of anything before in
my whole life."

“Listen to me. Everything’s all right. I’m
here and I won't leave you alone.”

Chris Owen came in and sat down across from
them, dropping a notebook on the coffee table. "Sorry about all the
damage. We came in as soon as we heard the gunshots. Sorry we
didn't do it sooner, but we had no idea he was armed. We tailed him
here hoping he'd lead us to some missing money, quite a lot of
money." He looked hopefully at Theresa. "You don't know anything
about a large quantity of cash, do you?"

"Oh my god," she cried. "Everyone is talking
about some stupid money. I don’t know anything about any money.
That's the God's honest truth." She picked up the glass again,
drained it, and then leaned against John’s shoulder.

"Yes, I believe you," said Owen, with a
sigh.

"Agent Rodriguez has Tony out in the car,”
Owen said, grinning. “By now, I'm sure he wishes it were me out
there with him, instead of her. She won't physically harm him. It's
just that Rodriguez is.... Well, never mind. We didn’t catch him
with the money, but it looks like Mr. DePalma will be charged with
breaking and entering, illegal use of a firearm, and attempted
murder," he said, obviously pleased. Then he lifted his brows and
asked, "Do you mind answering some questions now? It’ll only take a
few minutes.” He took a pen from his breast pocket and opened his
notebook.

After the agents had left, and they were
finally alone in the kitchen, John opened a bottle of wine, filled
two glasses, and brought them to the table where Theresa sat,
tapping rapidly on her phone.

"Who are you texting?" he asked.

"My brother, Paul," she answered, head down.
"Just telling him to have Daddy call me when he gets home. I’m not
saying anything about what happened. My brothers can get a little
protective and I don't want them alarmed. It's best if I tell Daddy
first."

He nodded. "Good idea. When he calls, do you
want me to talk to him?"

She hit send and looked up at him, a
questioning look in her eyes.

John thought she looked especially beautiful
at that moment.

"No, that's okay, John. I'll talk to Daddy.
This isn't your problem."

He shrugged. "Your problems are my problems.
Hey, that Chris Owen is a nice guy."

Theresa smiled. It was the first time he'd
seen a smile since Tony arrived at the door.

"I think Diane kind of likes him. Don’t
you?"

"I don't know,” said John thoughtfully.
“Diane needs to find someone."

Theresa sipped at her wine and set the glass
down. "She told me you two dated for a while."

"It was nothing serious."

She hesitated before continuing. "She was in
love with you."

"Nah, no way! We were just friends."

"Yeah, I think she was, but now she’s
interested in Chris Owen."

"It doesn't matter.” He looked at her
closely. “Are you doing all right? You need anything?"

"Thanks, I'll be fine. It was a bit of a
shock. I wonder what Tony meant when he said if he didn't find the
money, he'd be better off in jail."

"I imagine its dirty money, drug money,
something like that. There are probably some mob thugs after the
cash, and if they don't get it, they'll beat the crap out of him.
Who knows?"

Her cell phone began to play, ‘Oh, my Pa-pa,
to me he was...’ and she snatched it up. "Hello Daddy," she
breathed with relief.

John eavesdropped as Theresa related every
detail of the Tony incident. Whoa, she has total recall. I couldn’t
have done that. She really pulled herself together. I'll have to
give her credit for that. She actually tried to shield me from the
guy, waving his gun around. Impressive!

"Okay baby doll, as long as you feel that
everything's all right. John's there with you? He’s going to stay?
Good, good. Remember, if you need anything at all, no matter what
time, you just call. Capiche?"

Dominick hung up the phone and stared at it
for a minute. Rose was behind him, listening.

"Dom, was that Theresa? Is everything all
right?"

"Yeah, sure, sure. Everything is fine.
Nothing to worry about. Let's go on up to bed. It's been a busy
day."

*
**

"Your father is cool with everything? He
understands what happened?"

She nodded and rested her face in her hands.
Behind the hands, he heard her soft sobs beginning, her shoulders
shaking.

"Terry?"

She raised her head, tears coursing down her
cheeks. Oh man, I guess she doesn't have herself pulled together
after all.

"John, he could have killed you! I was so
scared. You put yourself in front of me. You were trying to protect
me weren't you?"

"I thought it was the other way round. You
jumped in front of me, remember?"

"Oh, god, John. I'm sorry you were caught in
the middle of this. This was my fault. He followed me. I'm just
glad Jack and Vicky weren't here too."

John pulled her to her feet. "Come on; let's
go sit in the living room."

When they were seated on the couch, Romeo and
Juliet seemed to materialize from nowhere, coming to curl up beside
them. In silence, they stroked the kitties as they purred softly
which was strangely comforting. Insulted suddenly by some imaginary
slight, the cats jumped to the floor and ran to the kitchen.

"I wonder where they were hiding when Tony
was shooting holes in the wall?" she snuffled, dabbing at her tears
with a tissue.

"Bet they were scared shitless," said
John.

She giggled through her tears.

His thigh was resting comfortably against
hers, then becoming conscious of the fact he shifted away. Wanting
the contact, he moved his leg against hers again. She didn't move.
He looked up at her and their eyes met. At last, she lowered her
head and groaned, "Oh, John."

"What is it? What's wrong?"

“John, it's just that...I can't help how I
feel."

He didn't ask, but gathered her in his arms
and pulled her onto his lap. Then he gently coaxed her head onto
his shoulder, stroking her hair and soothing her. "It's ok, Babe,"
he reassured her. "You know I'm here for you whenever you need
me."

His words seemed to bring on a fresh batch of
tears as he held her, waiting for her to calm. He said softly, "You
are so incredibly beautiful. Before, in the kitchen, you looked at
me and...."

Theresa twisted in his lap until she faced
him, straddling his strong legs. "Is that really what you
think?"

He stroked her hair, pushing it from her
face. "Terry, you are amazing. The first time I saw you I knew that
I wanted you."

She drew back. "You thought I was a
puttanna!"

"No! I didn't. I thought you were very hot
and..., I’d had a couple of beers. I was stupid and I acted like an
idiot. You know I do that on occasion. My bad."

“John, I...” She started to tell him how she
felt, but he kissed her, enfolding her small body in his strong
arms.

"Shhh," he whispered, placing a forefinger
lightly on her lips. Then he kissed her long and passionately. His
hands stroking her hair, lost in the thick curls that hung down her
back. “Terry, you're beautiful,” he murmured kissing his way down
the side of her neck as his hands moved over her shoulders and her
back. Caressing her round bottom, he pulled her against him,
closing the small gap separating them. Her knees spread and her
hips moved gently, driving him crazy. Taking his lips from hers, it
was his turn to gasp.

"Are you okay? What is it?" she murmured,
nibbling on his neck.

"I'm fine. Don't stop what you're doing."

She didn't. He slipped a hand up to her
breasts and then began tugging on her shirt. She playfully slapped
his hand away and with her slender fingers, she rapidly unbuttoned
the shirt, tossing it to the floor. Reaching behind she unfastened
her bra and it followed the shirt. Theresa arched her back, full
breasts bared for him. He bent, nibbling each erect nipple in turn,
as she rocked her hips, thrusting against him.

"Terry?" he pleaded.

"What?"

"Terry, sometimes I say and do stupid things,
I'm sorry," he gasped, tugging her jeans down so he could stroke
her bottom.

"Yeah, so what. Sometimes I'm a bad tempered
bitch. Shut up now and make love to me. Please! I want you."

"Nobody's perfect," he murmured, his face
buried between her breasts.

Echoing deep within his mind, he heard her
words from a few days before. ‘There's no relationship, no dating,
no sex. Last night was a mistake and it's not happening again.’ The
words quickly faded, and were forgotten.