I reach for my keys, squeezing them in my fist so that the car key sticks between my index and middle fingers, making a little blunt knife. It’s not much, but if one of these assholes tries to touch me, he’s going to get it in the eye. I don’t move, standing still as the men watch me. I can see two clearly and there appear to be more in the back. I swallow hard, throat dry.
The driver makes a lazy motion for me to approach his car. I glance through my rear window, where I can see Roman kicking his little feet. So many protective instincts are flooding my system that I feel paralyzed. It’s like checkmate. I have no choice but to talk to them and to hope they aren’t planning on hurting me or Roman, but stepping away from the car feels like abandoning him.
I shake my head, stepping back and standing protectively in front of his door. The driver rolls his eyes in annoyance, stepping out of the car and approaching me, dress shoes clicking on the pavement. He would be a handsome man if he didn’t look so cruel. His cruelty is written in the sneering twist of his lip and the cocky set of his eyebrows. That’s not what frightens me though. I’m more afraid of how disinterested he seems, as if threatening me in broad daylight is as stimulating to him as getting the mail in the morning. It tells me this isn’t even near his upper-limit, it’s not even the beginning of what he’s willing to do.
“Stay away,” I say glancing around, wishing there were more people heading to their cars, but no one seems to notice anything out of the ordinary, and I’m scared to find out what this man would do if I screamed.
“I have a message for you. Julia Connors?”
“No. You must have the wrong person.”
He sighs, pulling out his phone and looking at the screen, at my face, and back at his screen. He tucks his phone back in his pocket. “Strange. You look exactly like her.”
My nostrils flare and I feel my nose twitch. I wonder if I could jab these keys in his eye before he could stop me. It’s a stupid thought though. The men in that SUV would never let me get away with it. I’d be in a worse position than I started. I hate how badly I wish Leo was here, how badly I wish he would ride in and save me, whether he had to use violence or not. I just want my Roman to be safe.
“My name is Fredo Moretti, and normally the only time people learn that is right before I put a bullet in them or before I welcome them into my family. I’m making an exception for you because I want you to tell the thug you’re fucking to give himself up.” Fredo’s face twists with sudden emotion, an anger so vivid and clear that it makes me step back. “I’m way past pride with him, way past traditional methods. I’ll admit he’s good. He’s real fucking good. But I don’t give a shit. The bottom line is he’s outnumbered and he has a weakness.” Fredo punctuates his last sentence by jabbing a finger into my chest and then toward the car. “I want you to tell him that I personally promise to fuck you before I kill you. I’ll kill that little brat of yours, too. If he wants to avoid that, all he has to do is give himself up to me. He knows where to find me.”
Fredo turns and walks to the car, leaving me breathless. His car door slams and he drives off, eyes locked menacingly on mine until he pulls out of view. I slowly relax my grip on the keys, feeling like I want to just curl up and cry, but knowing I have to stay strong for Roman. As much as I hate myself for it, I call Leo’s number, even though I promised myself I was done with him.
Leo is already waiting on the park bench where we agreed to meet before I get there. He’s wearing a dark blue suit with a black tie and a light gray undershirt. His hair is wet, like he just showered. I let go of Roman’s hand and let him run to the playground, where he goes immediately for the slides. I sit on the bench, leaving plenty of space between Leo and I.
I look at his face and see something there that surprises me. He looks on the verge of something, but I can’t say what. I swallow the urge to ask him what’s wrong. I don’t care what’s wrong with him. I’m not at work and he’s not a patient. I don’t have to pretend to care. I want one thing, and that’s to keep my baby safe. That’s not entirely true, of course, but it’s easier to convince myself when I’m pissed at him. And every time I start to think I care about Leo’s feelings I get more angry with myself. I just want to hate him. Why is that so hard?
“You wanted to meet?” he says stiffly.
So he’s going to act disinterested now? Ever since he’s come back it has seemed like his mission to win me back, and now he seems like he wants to be somewhere else? I clench my teeth. “Fredo Moretti spoke to me in the parking lot of the grocery store. Roman was in the car right beside me.” My words sound cold as they leave my throat, even though I feel anything but cold. It feels like an inferno is swirling in my chest.
Leo’s eyes dart to mine. “What did he want?”
“He told you to give yourself up or he’d…he said he would…” I’m surprised when a tear rolls down my cheek. I wipe it away hurriedly. I guess I hadn’t fully processed everything he said to me. Saying it out loud makes it feel real. “He said he’d fuck me before he killed me.” I swallow, gathering myself. “And he said he’d kill Roman. Unless you give yourself up to him. He said you knew where to find him.”
I see Leo’s jaw flex as he stands.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
“Going to him.”
“Wait. Just…Jesus, just wait. You’re going to just let him kill you?”
Leo kneels in front of me, taking my hands. “Listen. I never did right by you. I know that. I spent every day of those four years thinking about you, thinking about what I would do differently if I could come back. When I left you at the restaurant back then, it tore something in me, something I thought I could fix. But I couldn’t. Not without you.
“Now I have a chance to do the right thing. If the only price of keeping you and Roman safe is my life, then I’ll fucking pay it. Every fucking time. Do you understand? I would rather die than let anything happen to you two.”
“Roman is yours. He’s your son,” I say, grasping for something to change his mind. I don’t know why, but I’m sure getting himself killed isn’t the way out of this. I need him here. I need more time to figure things out with him. I need him. I haven’t wanted to see that, but I see it now.
Leo rests his forehead on my knees, squeezing my hands, so hard now that it hurts a little, but I welcome the pain. It feels real, like an anchor keeping me from floating away in the torrent of emotion threatening to take me. When he looks up his eyes are red. “You’re sure? You’re absolutely fucking sure?”
“Yes,” I say, eyes welling with tears.
He hugs me tight, voice a whisper in my ear. “God. I have a son. I have a fucking son.”
I smile. It’s so good to finally say it. I wish I had told him sooner. Maybe he would have been able to turn himself around if he had Roman to fight for, too.
“And he loves you,” I say. “Like his mom.”
Leo pulls back, cupping my cheek in his hard hand. He kisses me. “I’ve loved you since I met you, and I never stopped.”
I close my eyes, letting his words settle into my chest and swell, marveling as they somehow turn the despair and anger and hopelessness into something else, as if being loved by him makes nothing else matter. “Stay,” I say. “We can fight this together.”
He shakes his head, but I see he’s less sure than before. “No. I can’t risk anything happening to you. And to my son.” I love the way he says the last, like he’s feeling the words pass his lips and savoring every syllable.
“No,” I say. “You can’t let your son grow up without a father. He needs you. I need you.”
“You’re right.” He looks toward Roman, watching him for a few seconds before standing and brushing off his knees. “I have an idea, but I need to know you and Roman are somewhere safe before I stir the snake’s nest.”
“We’re safe with you.”
“Normally, yeah, but I’m not going to let my pride come before your safety. I can’t fix this without taking some risks, and I n
eed to know you’re going to be taken care of if I don’t make it.” His face darkens. “And I have a debt to settle. A big fucking debt.”
I frown, noticing there is dried blood beneath his fingernails. “Is this blood?” I ask.
He pulls his hand back, examining it. “Yes.”
“What did you do? Where did you go when you left Roman and I after the movie?”
There’s so much pain in his face. I’m surprised to find my perception of him has shifted. I don’t know when it was or how it happened, but I’ve stopped thinking like Leo is on trial. Now I just want to help him, to work with him and to help him fight through issues. I want to make it work now. I realize I had almost been looking for reasons to keep it from working before.
“My brother,” he says. “Angelo. The people I was working for betrayed him. They executed him like a fucking dog. Now they are working with the asshole who threatened you.”
“Leo… I’m sorry.”
He brushes me off with a wave of his hand. “Angelo was no saint.” Leo sits back down, looking at his hands and laughing a little. “He was an idiot. An ambitious, violent, idiot… But he was my idiot, you know? He was my little brother, my mess and I’ve been cleaning up after him as long as I can remember. Now I have to clean up one last time. One last mess.”
I squeeze Leo’s knee. “Can you do all this by yourself?”
He shakes his head. “Maybe not. But I have a plan I think will work. Is there someone you trust that can give you and Roman a place to stay while I settle this?”
I nod reluctantly. “Yes, if you think that’s best.”
“It will be safer. I can’t bring you two with me where I’m going, and I don’t want to leave you here, not in the city.”
69
Leo
I sit across from Tony Capobianco feeling naked without my gun. Coming in unarmed was a risk I had to take, though. As far as the outside world knows, I’m still working for the Bianchis. Marco is dumb enough to think I’m still on his side, even after he executed my brother. Relations between the Bianchis and Capobiancos are frosty, at best, so Tony only agreed to meet me if it was on his turf and if I let them frisk me.
Three guys sit around the table. There’s Tony, who’s balding with thick, powerful eyebrows and a permanently shrewd expression on his chubby face. There’s Alex, his young, hot shot associate who works in accounts and has a reputation for making the Capobiancos one of the richest families in the Northeast. Then there’s Bruce, who’s apparently a crack shot with his pistol and has a temper as quick as a snake.
I decide if this meeting goes south, I’ll grab the accountant and use him as a meat-shield while I rush Bruce and try to get his gun. It’s not a great plan, and I’m not sure the little guy has enough meat on him to stop one of those .22 caliber bullets Bruce is packing.
“This had better be good,” says Tony.
“Unless I misinterpret your ambitions,” I say. “It is really good.”
Tony gestures for me to continue.
“I can offer you a risk-free chance to cripple your two biggest rivals. One day and you could cut off the head of the Bianchis and the Morettis.”
“I’m listening,” says Tony. By the way he leans forward, I can tell he’s hooked. I feel a slight wave of relief, knowing the real danger here has passed.
“Fredo Moretti wants my head,” I say.
Tony laughs. “No shit. You’ve cost the guy close to a hundred Gs they say. And now you’re back in town making him look weak, walking around like you’re untouchable.”
“Yeah, and he wants me to give myself up. Here’s the thing. Marco Bianchi is waiting for a chance to off me, too. He hasn’t admitted it, but my gut says he cut a deal with the Morettis to execute my brother. Chances are, he’s coming for me next. But do you think the Morettis are going to give him whatever they are offering if they do the dirty work for him?”
Tony narrows his eyes. “So you’re offering yourself as bait to lure the Morettis and the Bianchis out into the open? What’s to stop them from sending some low-level thugs to do the job.”
“Pride. Fredo has tried sending his thugs after me and it hasn’t worked. He’s going to be there this time. He’s going to make sure it works, or he’ll make a fool of himself once and for all. And I’ll make sure Marco knows the only way he gets a shot at me is if he comes himself.”
“You said this is risk free. But let’s suppose I take you up on this offer and it doesn’t work. What’s to stop the Morettis and Bianchis from coming after me?”
“As far as they know, you weren’t involved. Send a ghost crew. I’ll run them. Give me guys with no blood-ties to you that can’t be traced back to you. Hire military contractors if you have to.”
He rubs his lip with his thumb, sucking in a whistling breath through his nose.
“I know some guys,” says the young accountant. “The cost is negligible, and we can hedge our investment by taking out life insurance on the men.”
Tony smirks at me. “I fucking love this kid.”
70
Julia
Callie agreed to let Roman and I come stay with her, so we’re driving north towards New York. I have music from Yo Gabba Gabba playing on the radio while Roman does some kind of interpretive dance in his car seat. It feels surreal. He has no idea that we’re on the run, hiding from people who want to kill us. He has no idea what kind of risk Leo is taking for us. Even if we wouldn’t be in this mess in the first place if it wasn’t for Leo, I can’t make myself blame him.
I was the one who let him into my life to begin with. I signed up for this, for better or worse, and now all I can do is my best to keep my little guy safe while we ride it out.
I switch lanes, trying to give the car tailgating me a chance to pass. I growl in annoyance when the car switches lanes with me, still so close on my tail that I can’t even see their headlights. It’s a black sedan with heavily tinted windows. I can’t see the driver, but I get a chill when I wonder if I would see well-dressed Italian men if I could. I switch again to the far right lane, cutting in front of a car so the sedan can’t get directly behind me. A few seconds later, I swerve off the road taking the next exit. I hear tires screech from behind and see the black sedan still following us.
“Weeee!” yells Roman from the back. “Do it again!”
“Honey, make sure your straps are tight, okay?” I ask, voice strained as I swerve off the exit ramp and head down a backcountry road. There’s a mom and pop style grocery store and a few trailers scattered around fields of overgrown grass and not much else. I don’t even see any other cars on the road.
I drive as fast as I dare, glancing in the rearview as the black sedan gains on us. I squeeze the steering wheel, struggling to think of something to do, anything to get them off our tail.
“Honey, are you in tight?” I call back to Roman, quickly reaching to turn off the music.
“Weeeee!” he yells again. “I’m in tight!”
I swerve off the road, driving a few dozen yards through grass until a reach a field of tall, golden wheat. I see the black sedan through the dust cloud I’m kicking up, following behind. I can’t see anything now, but I did see a farmhouse roughly in the direction I’m driving from the road, I just have to hope I’m driving in a straight line, and I have to hope whoever is driving the sedan didn’t see what I saw.
I drive as fast as I dare, still seeing flashes of black through the dust behind me, bouncing along in the fields of wheat, gaining on me. I grip the steering wheel tighter, twisting my hands and wondering how much farther it could—
The wheat drops away and I barely swerve in time to miss the corner of a farmhouse. A split-second later, I hear the sedan crash into it.
“Ahhhh!” Roman yells happily. “This is awesome!”
I slowly circle back through the wheat as best as I can tell until I find the path of trampled crops that leads back to the road. I see the car jammed into the house, spewing thick black smoke as I drive. I let
myself sigh with relief, grinning a little. Take that, you fuckers. No one comes between me and my son.
When I emerge from the crops, I see two black SUVs waiting for me. Four men stand in the grass, guns pointed toward us. One of them steps forward, motioning for me to get out of the car. My mind races. I briefly consider swerving into the crops again and hoping I could lose them, but they are too close. I can’t risk a stray bullet catching Roman. Even the thought twists my heart. My only hope now is to wait for an opportunity or hope Leo finds us. As discreetly as I can, I fire off a text to Leo that says “Help”.
71
Leo
I wait in the junkyard for everyone to show. I’m wearing my gun holstered inside my suit jacket, and the weight is reassuring. Still, a lot of pieces have to come together for this to play out the way I hope. I called Marco a few hours ago and told him I wanted to give him some critical information about the Capobiancos. He sounded eager enough to show, probably on one hand because he thinks he can set up a trap and have me killed, and on the other because he knows the Capobiancos could decide to gun for him at any time. It’s a win-win for him.
Fredo and his crew show first. I see the small convoy of four SUVs pull up to the entrance of the junkyard and wind their way toward where I wait near the center. If he’s smart, he’ll turn the cars around when he sees I already broke the agreement and showed up early, but as I was hoping, his arrogance and pride seem to take over, because the SUVs don’t stop, even when they have to have a clear view of me.
Baby for the Beast Page 40
