by Amy Rachiele
“What did your father say to you?”
I light a cigarette before I answer and take a long drag. All these crying girls and shit is doing me in.
“Pop was put out, I guess. But he’s got plenty of others to do the jobs. He feels more comfortable when it’s Donny or me, especially with all the shit going on with Sommersville.” I pause. “My mother was the one that said I should go.”
“I need your help with something else,” he says.
“Wow,” I say sarcastically. “For someone who wants me to stay the fuck away from their daughter, you’re asking for a lot of help.” I crush out the butt of my cigarette and drag the ashes across the driveway with my foot.
“With what happened last night and what’s gone on here this morning, I need Erin to go with you too. I’m afraid she’s close to snapping.”
“That’s fine.” I like the girl. Megan would feel better having her around. I know it. “Who were you going to send with her?”
“I hadn’t figured that out yet. I was planning on asking you. I have to keep my girls safe.” His voice sounds almost desperate.
“If you’re relying a lot on me,” I add, “I’d say Vito would be your best bet. Missing school isn’t going to be detrimental to his already horrible grades.”
“I don’t trust him.”
“You didn’t trust me either.” We stare at each other.
“If he puts one finger on my daughter, I’m holding you responsible.”
“Are you serious? She’s a kid,” I say, disgusted. So that’s where he’s going with the trust issue.
“Well, she’s my kid”—Patrick’s voice is filled with menace—“and she’s been hurt.”
“He’s got a reputation, but he’s not a child molester. Mannegia! I don’t know what has happened over the past twenty-four hours, but whatever it is, you’re scared. I get it.” I wait, but he doesn’t respond, so I continue, “You asked my opinion and I gave it. It’s your call.”
A frown mars his face. “Okay. Call him. You guys better hurry up or you’ll miss the flight.” Geez, he’s the one holding us up. I can’t fuckin’ win.
I quickly make the call to Vito, and then I go back into the house to get Megan and Erin. A new bag is by the door. Erin is bellowing at the kid slumped in the chair. Megan, with a carry-on bag on her shoulder, takes Erin’s hand trying to pull her away.
“I hate you!” Erin screams at the kid.
“Connor!” a woman calls out. “Come into the kitchen.” He gets up, head hanging. Erin kicks him in the leg and storms out of the house. I shake my head and take her bag. I reach for Megan’s hand and squeeze it.
“What’s all that about?” I ask.
Megan leans in and whispers, “He’s cheating on her.”
SHIT! Red forms in front of my eyes, and I snarl. I spin around to go after him. Megan grabs my forearm.
“Please don’t!” she cries. “Let’s just get out of here.” I allow her to lead me out.
Patrick is settling Erin into the back seat of my car, talking softly to her. Her arms are crossed, and her face is horribly tear-streaked. I have a lump in my throat just watching her cry. I set the bag in the backseat next to her. If Megan hadn’t calmed me down, I would have torn that kid’s face off. Patrick kisses her, and then tugs Megan in for a hug.
Mrs. O’Neill is standing at the window, watching this exchange. She doesn’t come out of the house. I’m guessing she doesn’t approve of this little arrangement. I think me taking her two daughters away is probably one of her worst nightmares.
I get in and so does Megan. She leans her head against the glass of her window. She looks totally spent. Patrick leans down into my open window, giving me last minute instructions.
“You know the drill. Be cautious of everyone. Don’t let them out of your sight.” He hands me a piece of paper. “Here’s the address at Notre Dame. I got you two guest suites on the campus. I will contact you when things are safe enough to come back.”
“Got it.”
“Where is Vito meeting you?”
“He’ll be waiting at the gate.”
“Good.”
Sniffling is still heard from the backseat. I back out of the driveway and start driving toward the airport.
Megan doesn’t lift her head, but she reaches for my hand and squeezes it. I notice her face is still moist with silent tears.
“Jesus Christ, Megan, what happened?” I stroke her hand with my fingers, wishing I could hold her until the tears stop. But I have a job to do. I need to get Megan and her sister out of here and on a plane.
*****
Megan
I can’t stop them. They just keep coming. Tears flood down my cheeks as the car rumbles down the road.
Where should I begin to even remotely answer his question? Should I tell him the part that makes me numb or the part that makes me cry?
The tears are for my sister. The beautiful, loving, happy sister I almost lost to a bullet, and that I then lost to an asshole. Erin has never been this way. I fear for her state of mind. Her hurt and uncharacteristic behavior frightens me. I felt the crushing of my sister’s heart when she found Connor with that girl last night. I wanted to kill him for it. She needed him. After the fear of last night, she needed comfort. But she only found pain. I’m worried about how much she can take right now.
I’m trying really hard not to succumb to the horror of last night or to the repulsion of the hidden life my father leads. When my father finally made it to the O’Connells, he told me. I can’t rid myself of the ickiness that is now constantly crawling up my throat. His words of confession rattle around in my mind. Disgust and anguish sicken my stomach where butterflies used to be.
The betrayal of my parents singes my soul. I’m a victim, a victim of my environment, just as much as Antonio is. My father is the devil, and I am his spawn. Antonio and I are more alike than I could ever have imagined. This upsurge of emotions crackles and burns underneath my skin. Discomfort, shame, fear, anger. The only solace I have is that Antonio and my sister are here with me. Right now, they are the only two people I trust.
Where the fuck do we go from here?
ARE YOU READY FOR MORE? Follow Antonio and Megan’s Story in Awakening the Mobster. Get it free at:
https://www.amyrachiele.com/free-awakening-the-mobster/
