by Kara Hart
I stumble to the cobblestone steps and I hold the sides of my head. “Fuck. What’s happening?” I say out loud, but of course no one is around me. The sirens are muffled and slowed down, but they’ re getting nearer. I roll over and puke. Then, I pick myself up and stumble away, clutching at my gut.
I used to be hard. I used to be Made. Now I’m some soft asshole, and all I can think about is getting back to Detroit to see Bianca. She’s the only good thing in my life anymore. Everything else has turned to shit. On the other side, it’s all blood, guns, and death.
I just want to be normal. I just want to be like the rest of society. I want a shitty 9-5 job. I want two happy kids, a boy and a girl. I want them to go to a good school and to grow up happy. I want to wake up in the morning, to kiss my wife’s cheek, and sip on my coffee while I cut into my perfectly scrambled eggs and toast.
But the reality is, I won’t ever get that life. No, instead, I’m an outlaw. I’m society’s reject. I’m the bit of pond scum people scowl at and scrape off the bottom of their boots. I don’t deserve love. I don’t deserve anything good.
I’m Hunter Scapoli, the killer. Nothing more. Nothing less.
174
Bianca
“Have you seen your brother?” My dad shakes me awake. His cold hands make me nearly jump out of my skin. I was having a crazy nightmare where I was walking down a cobblestone road. Oddly enough, I was with Hunter. A man jumped out with a gun and I had the strangest feeling that his life was coming to an end. That’s when my dad woke me up.
“No,” I croak. “Is he still gone?”
My dad looks worried. We haven’t seen him in nearly three days. By his expression, we’re thinking the same thing. “Yeah. He won’t return any of my calls either. His phone is either dead or off,” he says. “I’m sorry for waking you. I just wanted to make sure you hadn’t seen him before I talk to Ricky.”
“Do you think he’s dealing again?” I ask him, rubbing my eyes awake. I push my body up against my pillow and yawn loudly. Life out here is nothing like San Francisco, that’s for sure.
“I don’t know. It’s possible,” he says. “Did you hear about Michael Tucciano?” Dad asks.
“No. I didn’t hear anything,” I say. “Did they finally indict him or something? Seems like that’s the ongoing trend now for the Big Five.” The Big Five is what all the newspapers are calling the Five Families. It’s always been funny to me that the whole media and public know who is corrupt and it’s still a game of cat and mouse. I guess it has to be like that.
He shakes his head. “No. It’s much worse. Everyone’s talking about it. He was gunned down in New York.”
“No fucking way,” I say. “Seriously?”
“Yes fucking way,” my dad smiles, though I can tell he’s still worried about Giovanni being gone. “He was on a date with some woman who wasn’t his wife. She claims the guy put a gun to his head. Of course, Michael’s wife is denying all of that. She says it was an inside hit, most likely done by someone in Jersey City.”
“Well it’s possible,” I laugh. “But it’s likely he was with that girl too. All these guys are scumbags. Do the police have any leads?”
“No, of course not,” he shakes his head. “But they’re scrambling to find someone to pin it on. They’re on full alert now that more people are dying. They’re afraid another war is going to start.”
I groan. “Yeah, well. When they sensationalize this type of stuff, a war becomes more and more likely. It’s better they keep it out of the media.”
“I agree,” he says. “I just hope your brother isn’t involved in any of this. I hope he’s safe.”
“He is, dad,” I lie. I have no idea if he actually is or not. I’m hoping the same damn thing. But hope is all I can give my father right now. I wish there was more I could pass on. “He’s just making money. You know, being a gangster. He watches too much television.”
“Yeah, you’re probably right,” he sighs. “Anyway, I just thought you should know.”
“Thanks,” I say.
“I love you, sweetie,” he kisses my cheek and I smile back.
“Love you too, dad.” He closes the door gently and I jump out of bed.
I’ve got a sinking feeling in my stomach that tells me something is wrong. It’s not that I think my brother is dead or involved in some heavy crime. Most likely, he’s out slinging drugs and he hasn’t earned enough to head home. He’s done this before. No, the feeling I’ve got is telling me that Hunter is either dead or involved in this Tucciano business.
The past three days I’ve gone to his hideout. It’s completely empty. In fact, there’s no trace that anyone has been living there for decades. If he’s left the city, he’s a bastard. I should have known a guy like him would be a complete and total let down.
However, if he’s the one who took down Michael Tucciano, I’m not sure how to react. On the one hand, Tucciano is the one who killed my grandfather. Part of me should be thrilled he’s gone. On the other hand, do I really want to be fucking an active killer?
Well, he is great at eating pussy. I have to laugh at how absurd my thoughts are. I must be going insane. Since when did I justify sex with a killer? I hate using that word. It makes him sound like Ted Bundy or something. Was he bad news? Probably. Did that turn me on? Definitely. Oh, jesus. I’m in a whole lot of trouble, aren’t I?
I decide that it’s about time I make the most of my trip and take a run in the park. Back in the day, I ran every single morning before class. It’s such a beautiful and unique place. It practically begs you take advantage of it. If I wasn’t from Michigan, I’d probably say the same. On one side, it’s falling apart from a lack of infrastructure. However, in between the cracks of the dirty city, there’s a natural beauty. Of course, most of that is in the wealthier areas.
When I’m running, I think about my childhood. When I was young, the lifestyle interested me quite a bit. I was always proud of the Luciotti name. To me, it stood for greatness. I used to brag at school about how my family owned half of Detroit. Of course, I didn’t really know what that meant.
I thought people were just born into that type of greatness. I didn’t realize it meant that lives were stolen from innocent people. I didn’t know that harmless shopkeepers had to pay half their wages to keep their stores open in their neighborhoods. I thought that our family gave others opportunities that they couldn’t otherwise get.
That’s what we were told, anyway. And we believed the lie. We believed that if the five families didn’t exist, the government would take over and let everyone down. We wouldn’t have any protection and corporations could just come in and ruin our neighborhoods. It was partly true. Only, it became harder and harder to decipher what was the lesser evil. Which do you choose: large corporations or large men with an assembly of guns? As I grew older, I knew that the answer was in getting out.
I push through the trees and the green grass, past the edge of the water, and I end up back in the rusty city. I fall against a bench and catch my breath. I’ve pushed myself way too hard. I shouldn’t be running. My doctor’s told me a thousand times, don’t overexert yourself if you’re going to run. But I’m a person who loves to hurt herself. I can’t just go at things half-assed.
I take three deep breaths in, feeling the oxygen relax my lungs. I smile and close my eyes, feeling the peaceful summer breeze wash over my face. It’s a nice day and I find myself finally enjoying the city for once.
“You’re quite the runner,” I hear a voice say. “I love the way your tits bounce up and down. I could watch you for hours, darling.”
I turn to see Ricky, leaning against a tree nearby. He’s smiling and smoking a cigarette. Fuck. Why is he here? I look around for a person to run to in case he gets weird again, but there’s no one there to help me. He walks forward and puts his cigarette out on the bench handle next to me. “Ricky, what the hell are you doing here? Are you fucking following me? Really?”
“What? Can’t a guy go on
a nice walk in the city?” he laughs and sits down next to me, putting his small hand on my right thigh. “Who’re you looking for, doll?”
“I went on a run by myself. To get away from people like you. Jesus, can’t you take a hint?” I scowl at him and try pushing my thigh away. He grips down hard, so hard that it actually hurts me.
“Ricky, stop,” I whisper. “You’re hurting me.”
“What’s the matter baby girl?” he sneers, teeth yellow and cracked. “Why won’t you be my friend?” It’s hard to say what he will do to me if I try to escape. I’m frozen and unable to move. My whole body tenses.
I’m nearly having a breakdown because he won’t leave me alone. My anxiety has jumped to new heights. When he laughs loudly at my reaction, I quickly realize just how careful I need to be from now on. Most likely, this is his way of letting me know that he’ll follow me until he finds Hunter. From now on, I would walk with stealth.
He grunts when I don’t respond, saying, “Oh, I found your brother, Giovanni.” My eyes light up and he lets go of my thigh. I stand up, but I don’t leave. I need to know what he wants with my brother. “Don’t worry. He’s hard at work. He’s very proud of the family name, as you may very well know.”
“I’m aware,” I say. “He needs to go home, Ricky. We’ve been worried sick about him.”
“Like I said. Don’t worry. He’ll be home by tonight. We just needed him for a job,” he winks at me.
“Tucciano?” I ask him, feeling my stomach sink. “Please tell me he didn’t…”
But the way he looks at me with confusion tells me Giovanni had nothing to do with that. “Not us,” he says, pulling out another cigarette. “Anyway, enough about Giovanni. How’ve you been? What have you been up to?”
“Nothing, Ricky. You know that,” I sigh. “I figure you’ve been following me.”
“Who? Me? No, I don’t do that sort of thing,” he smiles, lighting his cigarette. He takes a drag. “I have other people do that sort of thing for me, mostly. You know, you really should go out more. If you want, I’d love to take you to a movie. Maybe we can have a nice dinner. You don’t have much time left in the city. Might as well make it a good last week, right?”
I shake my head and start up running again. “I’ll see you, Ricky.”
I don’t hear from him for another day. Giovanni is back home and asleep in his room and my father, bless his soul, is relieved. The day is starting to feel like its stress free, and despite having fun with Hunter, it seems like we’ll have to part ways. Part of me thinks they already found and caught him.
That, of course, is when there’s a strange knock on my window. Groggy and dressed in nothing but my panties, I glance at my half-open window to find him standing, soaking wet and out of breath. He’s shivering when he nods in my direction. I slide the window open and whisper “Hunter?”
“I… I… needed to see you,” he stutters, freezing cold.
“Yeah, well. Where the hell have you been? I thought you were dead,” I say. “You could have at least called from a pay phone.”
“Just come outside and talk to me,” he whispers. “I know of a safe place we can go to.”
I peek my head out the window and look left and right. “Alright,” I sigh. “But we have to be extremely careful. I saw Ricky again.”
“What’d he say?” he asks me, turning serious.
“He’s just playing his head games, as usual,” I whisper. “He wants me to feel like I’m being watched. Most of the time, I probably am. I’m just hoping he doesn’t have enough men to keep watch at this time of night. You’re risking everything by coming here.”
“Then we better hurry, huh?” he stands there waiting for me to act. I grab a pair of shorts and an old t-shirt, and a towel for him. Then, I jump out the window to my room.
When we’re outside, I slowly close my window. “What happened to you? Why are you wet?”
“I don’t really have a roof at the new place I got. It’s temporary, but this fucking rain has been killing me. Anyway, it’s no big deal,” he whispers.
“Come on,” he says, grabbing my hand and pulling me forward. “It’s just around the bend.”
We turn a corner and duck under a broken hole in the wall, and we come face to face with an old courtyard. In the center are a few cushions, a blanket, some food, and a bottle of wine. “Oh shit, I forgot!” he says, running to grab something in the corner. He pulls out a candle and lights it.
“Fancy,” I mutter. “What is this for? Where’ve you been, Hunter?”
“Business,” he says. “I took your advice. Decided to up and move before they found me. It was probably for the best too. I saw a few guys go in that warehouse yesterday evening. I can barely live like this, Bianca. But I’m trying my damnedest. For your sake.”
“For my sake?” I ask feeling slightly annoyed by his response. “Don’t do anything for my sake. I’m just a girl with a few suggestions. It’s your life.”
He pops open the wine bottle and pours two makeshift glasses. “What? What did I say? Why are you angry at me now?”
“Nothing,” I say, shaking my head. “I’m okay.” I did feel kind of angry about the whole situation and I wasn’t sure why. I wasn’t connected to this guy. He was just a summer fling, like I said before. A summer fling, that’s it. But something had changed between us. The stakes were somehow higher now.
“Okay, well. Whatever I did, I’m sorry. Maybe I should have told you I was going to be gone for a little while.”
“No, it’s fine,” I lie. “I just thought you were dead. It scared me is all.”
A sly smile forms on his face as he hands me the glass of wine. I take a sip and feel the bitter liquid open up my palate. “What?” I ask him. “Why are you staring at me like that?”
“You care about me,” he laughs.
“No I don’t,” I get defensive. “I care about myself and myself only. I don’t want Ricky to kill me.”
“No, you definitely care about me,” he taunts me. “I can see it in your eyes. You want me around for a little while longer, don’t you?”
“Frankly, I don’t care one bit.” I take another hurried sip of wine.
“Alright,” he shrugs. “Whatever you say.”
He hands me the plate of bread and prosciutto and smiles. All around us are the sounds of cars and crickets. In the far distance, I can hear someone yelling. The sounds of the beautiful city…
“You like prosciutto right?” he asks me. I glance at him haughtily and take a bite as a response. He simply nods. “It’s good stuff, considering the position I’m in.”
For whatever reason, I’m not saying anything. Hell, I don’t even know why. I just feel… a little weird about everything right now. There’s the whole thing with Ricky, then there’s my brother, and now Hunter is back in my life. I just want to feel normal again. I just want to be back in school.
Finally, after chewing for a few minutes, he breaks the silence. “Okay. What’s wrong? Can you at least tell me what’s on your mind? I’m not a fortune teller. I’m doing the best I can here.”
“Did you kill Michael Tucciano? Or are you just going to hide that from me too?” I finally ask him. The question has been eating away at me for days now.
He makes a noise of confusion and puts his food down. “Is that it? Is that why you’re angry with me? Because you think I killed Michael Tucciano?”
“Yes!” I nearly scream, until I realize just how dire our situation is right now. “And you didn’t warn me you were leaving. You should have at least given me a heads up.”
“Bianca. Last time you left you made it very clear this was just a fun little fling for both of us,” he says. “Remember? I sure do.”
“I don’t know what it is,” I sigh. “What I do know is that you should give me a little more than that. I deserve more information.”
“Alright, fine,” he throws his arms up in the air. “From now on, I’ll give you more information.”
“Thank
you,” I say, feeling embarrassed by my reaction. I know I’m being difficult, even a little unreasonable. But my emotions are starting to fail me and I don’t know how to deal with it, dammit. Do I really like this guy? And if I do, why? It’s such a bad idea to fall for him. I’m only going to end up getting hurt.
“I just don’t want to wake up tomorrow and never hear from you again,” I say. “Do you understand?”
“I get it,” he nods, finishing his glass of red wine. I take a sip as well. “You’re in love with me.”
I spit my wine out, spraying it on the bricks next to me. “What? I didn’t say that!”
“You didn’t have to,” he laughs. “If you didn’t love me, you wouldn’t react so harshly to my absence. It’s okay. I like you too, darling.”
“Don’t call me darling, you buffoon!” I hiss at him. He laughs even harder when I say the word buffoon. “You’re a really good friend, okay? I’d do the same if my friend Teresa disappeared.”
“Alright,” he puts his hand against my legs and squeezes gently. I suddenly remember Ricky and how rough he was with me, and I can instantly see the difference between the two men. Still, I push his hands from me when I start to think about my crazy cousin.
“Hey, it’s fine. I get it. We’re just really good friends. Don’t worry,” he says, putting his hands in the air. “Sorry.”
“Okay, good. So long as you understand,” I say. It’s an asshole move, but I don’t want to explain the situation to him. “Things are just really weird for me right now. It’s not you,” I tell him.
He nods, understanding me. “It’s cool,” he says. “I get it. Honestly.”
But as time passes, we move closer to one another. There’s not a star in the sky, only the few blinking satellites that can somehow stand strong against the city lights and smog. He whispers “You know, it’s funny. I don’t think I’ve actually had a real friend before.”
