I clench my back teeth. “I don’t follow.”
“Like,” Jess continues, scrunching her face in concentration. “Like, if it would be better, in certain situations, to take care of stuff without them knowing?”
“I’m not letting you kill Monty.”
“It’s not that.”
“Then what, Jess? Just say it,” I snap. I don’t mean to be an asshole, but on top of all I have to worry about, I’m sexually frustrated as fuck. “I’m not going against the family if that’s what you’re asking.”
Jess turns forward, crossing her arms over her chest. I feel like total shit. I wish I could pull over, hug her, kiss her, and tell her it’s all going to be all right. But I’m afraid she’ll push me away.
Back at her apartment, my cell phone rings. It’s Anthony. I go into the hallway to talk.
“You’ll never guess who we picked up at the bus station,” Anthony says. “Had himself a one way ticket to a fly over state.”
I press my hand into the wall, cursing silently. “Who?” I ask, playing dumb.
“Matt fucking Walker,” Anthony says. I can hear his self-satisfied smile. “We’ve got him here at the concrete store. Get down here, Snake. We have work to do.”
Click.
I make a fist against the wall. I want so badly to punch a hole into it. But I stand up straight, fix my tie, and get a grip. Maybe it’s not too late. Maybe I can save Matt if I get there quickly.
“I’ll be back soon,” I tell Jess, grabbing my keys.
“Where are you going?” Jess says.
“Nowhere really,” I shrug. I don’t want to tell her the truth, then she’ll insist on coming with me. Salvatore explicitly told me to leave her home the next time. “Anthony wants to grab a drink. He’s going through a lot with his wife. Chemo and all.”
Jess sits on the couch, stretching her arms out, and inviting me to sit. “Do you think he can wait a half hour? I need to talk to you.”
“We can talk later,” I say, hastily checking the clock. I walk over to her, and chastely kiss the top of her head. The last thing I hear is her calling my name before I walk out of the door.
*
Matt looks like shit. He’s tied to a chair, barely able to hold himself up. He has two black eyes. His right cheek is swollen and cut. From the track marks on his arm, I can tell he’s been abusing himself for the past few days. He was probably already weak before they got to him. When I walk inside, Matt sees me. He lifts his head for a moment, and blinks at me with weak hope.
“Snake, hey, man,” Matt groans, before his head slumps back to his chest.
Salvatore and Anthony approach me, leaving Bruno to stand guard over their captive. I quickly check the tracking app on my phone to make sure Jess hasn’t followed me.
“Good to see you left your better half at home,” Sal says. “No matter how tough a chick claims to be, they just don’t have the stomach for the violence we’re used to.”
Maybe they have more sense than us, I think, bitterly.
“How’s the questioning going?” I ask. “Looks like you’ve already done a number on him.”
“He confessed,” Salvatore says, quickly.
I cock my head at him. “Before or after you kicked his ass?”
Sal’s eyes narrow, sending freezing cold laser beams into my chest. Anthony takes the gun from his hip and passes it to me.
“He was your friend,” Anthony says. “He betrayed your family. We thought you’d like to do the honors.”
I look at Matt. The poor schlub has been held hostage by a drug addiction for most of his adult life. No matter how hard he tries, he’ll never be able to get off the dope. Maybe I’d be doing him a favor, but I don’t think I can bring myself to do it. Unlike my past kills, I know for a fact that he’s innocent of the crime he’s been accused of.
I grab Anthony’s gun, pointing it at the floor. “This is ridiculous,” I say. “Matt’s too out of his mind on drugs to pull off a stunt like that. Do you really think the Lombardi’s would trust a junkie to do something like that?”
Anthony shrugs. “All he had to do was pour poison in a tequila bottle. If you ask me, a junkie’s the perfect guy for the job. They don’t ask questions as long as you pay them with drugs.”
“This will send a message to the Lombardi’s,” Salvatore says. “Matt’s just the first rung on the ladder. We’ll be going after Lombardi soldiers next.”
“And start an all out war?” I ask. “We need more evidence. We need to be sure.”
Salvatore steps towards me, planting his hand on my shoulder. His icy fingers dig into my flesh. “Come outside with me. We need to talk.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Jess
No way was I going to sit at my apartment, wondering where Snake is, or what he’s doing. Snake rushed out so quickly that I knew his story about Anthony was bullshit. Not long after Snake left, I called an Uber, and had the driver drop me off a few blocks from the concrete store. While sneaking up to the side of the warehouse, sure enough, I see Snake’s car.
“Fucking liar,” I grumble. If I wasn’t petty, I’d get the hell out of there. But I want to see what Snake’s lying about so I can throw it in his face later.
In the alleyway beside the warehouse, there’s a high set, narrow window that’s obscured by dumpsters. I slide in the narrow space between the dumpster and the wall. It’s so tight, I have to suck in my stomach and hold my breath to fit. I stand on my tiptoes to look into the window.
The glass is dark and smudged with dirt. I can barely make out the outline of four men; Sal, Anthony, Bruno, and Snake. They stand near a dark, amorphous blob. Whatever it is, the Mariano men seem very interested in it. They keep gesturing to and looking at it.
The blob moves. I squint harder at it, and realize it’s a man raising his head, only to have to it fall again. He’s tied to a chair. It looks like he can barely move.
Who is that? What have they done? What are they going to do?
I claw my fingertips into the windowsill, watching. Salvatore and Snake start to move. I realize they’re heading to the door that leads to this alleyway. I frantically slide out of the tight space, and duck behind the side of the dumpster, out of sight.
The door clangs open, and I hear their heavy footsteps. I stop breathing and listen.
“All I’m saying is that we need to be absolutely sure before we strike at the Lombardi’s,” Snake says.
Sal doesn’t respond right away. The silence is tense and thick. I hear a lighter flick open, and soon smell cigarette smoke. Sal laughs, a cold, dull sound that makes my heart pound.
“Does Jess know you killed her fiancé?” Salvatore asks, casually.
I feel like I might faint. Darkness clouds my vision. I stumble, catching myself on the ragged metal edge of the dumpster. My hand is wet with blood, but I don’t register the pain. I struggle to stay alert. I need to hear this.
“You don’t think she’d be seeking revenge for that killing, would you?” Salvatore asks.
“No,” Snake says. His voice is cold, final.
“Glad you cleared that up,” Sal says. “I wasn’t sure if it was Jess, or Matt in there. Take my advice. Kill this guy, so everyone else can be sure too.”
I can’t see Snake’s face. I’m too scared to peek out. But I imagine his dark eyes turning to stone while his mind flips between his loyalty to the Mariano’s, or to me. I wonder which one he’ll choose this time.
They don’t say anything else before walking back inside. I hold my bleeding hand tightly against my chest to stop the flow. Moments later, a single gunshot rings out from inside. I lean against the cold metal dumpster, hollow on the inside, and trying to process what I’ve just learned. Snake killed Jake. He just killed another man who he knows is innocent. He didn’t kill Matt for the Mariano’s. He killed him for me.
The monster is loyal to me.
*
I take an Uber back to my apartment, where I begin to pack frantically
. I can barely think straight. My hands tremble as I shove clothes and toiletries into a suitcase. I don’t have a plan. I have no idea what I’m doing. I have a vague idea of driving up the California coast, just driving, and fleeting thoughts of driving off a cliff. I can feel the weightlessness as the car sails through the air, and the impact as it smashes into the choppy ocean.
Jesus, I think, clutching a shampoo bottle. Is that my solution to everything? To end it all when I get too scared to fight.
I shake off these suicidal fantasies. I have to get out of here. I need to go anywhere. It doesn’t matter where, just somewhere far, far away. Salvatore knows too much. He knows about Jake, and my clear motive for wanting Monty dead. Does Sal know Matt’s completely innocent? Then why would he have Snake kill him?
It’s probably some kind of sick test of Snake’s loyalty, or a way of wearing Snake down so he’ll do their bidding again. I wouldn’t put it past Salvatore. The guy gives off a terrifying vibe. And those eyes- it makes me shudder just to picture them.
I keep packing. I spin from room to room, telling myself to only pack necessities. Though I’m moving around it a lot, it feels like I’m just spinning in circles. My emotional state isn’t much better. My moods swing from incredibly angry, to deeply depressed. I close my eyes and silently appeal to Jake.
I’m sorry I slept with your murderer. I didn’t know.
But you knew enough, a bitter voice responds.
I find myself in the kitchen clutching a handful of silverware. My phone rings, breaking me out of my trance. I duck behind the counter, as if the phone can see me. I quickly snap out of this delusion, and reach into my purse.
It’s my dad. I didn’t realize it was eight already.
“Hi, Dad. I’m great. Everything’s great.”
No matter how hard I try to sound chipper, my voice is monotone and empty. I sound like a robot. I swat my forehead when I realize I hadn’t waited for him to ask how I was doing before giving my canned response.
“Jess-“ Dad sounds worried. He breathes helplessly into the phone. “Is everything okay? You sound strange.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose to keep from crying. “I’m fine. Really.” The rising emotion in my chest pinches my voice. Have I completely forgotten how to lie?
I hear Dad sigh. “Jessica,” he says, his voice soft. The last time he called me Jessica was at Jake’s funeral. It brings back the memory of that day like a punch in the gut. I remember the dress I wore, black, knee length, with capped sleeves. I was pregnant at the time, though I didn’t know it. I’d attributed the nausea to all the stress I was going through.
Before I know it, I’m crouching on the kitchen floor, sobbing. It takes me a few moments to register Dad calling my name.
“Jessica,” he yells in an assertive tone. “Tell me what’s going on. Right now.”
I wipe my eyes and nose on my sleeve. “I thought I had everything figured out. I had a plan.”
“Oh, sweetheart. It’s not abnormal to have moments like this, when the grief catches up with you. You haven’t been drinking, have you?”
“No,” I say, the first completely honest response I’ve given in a while.
“Okay, okay,” he soothes. “This is just a bump in the road. You’ve been through quite a lot. But you’ve done wonderfully, sweetheart. You got sober, finished your degree, and landed a great job.”
My sobbing subsides. I lean back against the cabinets. “I’ve done it for all the wrong reasons. For stupid reasons that make no sense to anyone but me.”
Dad continues carefully. “Do you feel guilty for moving on when Jake can’t? You can’t think that way. Jake would want you to be happy.”
By screwing his murderer?
And not just screwing, but developing a deep, raging, red hot connection?
I take a deep breath, trying to regain my senses. I can’t worry my father, and have him try something crazy like coming down here.
“You’re right,” I concede. “I was just feeling a little sad, Dad. I’m better now.”
“I’d be worried if you didn’t get sad from time to time,” Dad chortles. “It’s only been a couple of years, which isn’t that long in the scheme of things. It can only get better from here. And maybe one day, you’ll meet a man, get married, and have everything you ever wanted.”
Everything I ever wanted. What is that? Was it to marry Jake, and live a sterile, whitewashed life in my high tower while men guarded me? Or is that what I thought I wanted. What do I want now?
After a few more pleasantries and fatherly advice, I get off the phone with Dad. My emotions have leveled off some, and I’m able to think more clearly.
What would Jake want me to do now?
Does it matter? He’s gone. I’m here. And so is Snake.
What do I want? Do I want to taste the sweetness of revenge, to make those responsible for Jake’s death suffer as much as I have?
Or do I want to allow myself to be happy? Forgive Snake, and see how things between us play out. Maybe even get a happily ever after.
Do I want to kill Snake? Or fuck Snake?
Without a clear answer in mind, I start searching the apartment. Snake took my gun after I attempted to kill Monty, and I haven’t been able to get it back. But he has so many weapons, and I’ve seen them left lying around the apartment before.
In the bedroom, I toss through the drawers that I reserved for Snake to use. I dig through his side of the closet. I look through every pair of pants he owns.
I drop to my knees and look under the bed. There, still in a holster, is a handgun.
I grab it.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Snake
I make myself watch as the blood gushing out of Matt’s head begins to slow down, signaling that the beating of his heart is slowing down too. I’m thankful that he doesn’t look at me when he draws his last breath, right before his eyes fall closed.
The metallic smell of blood, and the smoky aroma of the recently fired gun in my hand make my head spin. Salvatore calmly walks over to the body, checks the pulse, then nods to Bruno. Wearing plastic gloves and a cut up trash bag over his clothes, Bruno slips his arms around Matt’s chest, and heaves him up, dragging him to a plastic lined trunk waiting out back. They’ll probably be dumping Matt’s body out in the desert, where I killed Jake.
Never once have I allowed myself to feel remorse for what I have to do for this job. As a soldier, I’m just carrying out orders. The lives I take aren’t on me.
I can’t say that this time.
I knew Matt was innocent, but I killed him anyway. It was a bloody, senseless thing. But what was the alternative? Admit to Sal that Jess is the one he wants? No way I could do that.
Salvatore stands next to me, and places his hand on my back. “Good work, soldier,” he says.
I look at him briefly. “Yeah.”
“That couldn’t have been easy for you. But you’ve made a lot of us really proud. Come on. Monty wants to see you.”
In a daze, I follow Salvatore to Monty’s office. My heart pounds loudly in my ears. I can feel the blood rushing violently through my veins. In his office, Monty’s watching some kind of sporting event, soccer or something. I’m not sure, because I feel like I’m hurtling out of control through a dark, endless tunnel.
Monty tells us to sit, then holds his hand up to for us to be quiet. When the game is interrupted by a commercial, he turns to us, folding his hands on the desk.
“So, is it done?” he asks.
Salvatore smiles proudly, patting me on the back. “It’s done, Pop.”
“Snake, once again, you’ve proven your loyalty to this family,” Monty says. “I thank you for your service and your protection.”
“Uh-huh.” I nod, numbly.
Monty leans forward, a sly grin cutting into his face. “Although everyone in this room knows, that crackhead ain’t the one who tried to poison me.” Monty laughs loudly. Sal nods with a cold smile.
“What?”
I ask. I rub my temples, trying to make this all make sense. “You let me kill Matt when you knew he was innocent?”
Monty leans back, spreading his arms out and cocking his head. “With all the uncertainties these days, I needed to make sure you’d follow my orders, like a true soldier. Would you kill someone close to you for me? You passed the test, in a sense. The question is, who are you protecting, me or her?”
The blood rushing through my veins begins to boil. I grip the arms of the chair, leveling my eyes on Monty. If I had any less self control, I’d pull my gun on him right now.
“You know what you have to do, Snake.”
Salvatore’s calculating voice penetrates my brain. I barely register his hand on my arm.
“Jess has to go,” Sal says. “You have to do it for me, and for the family who took you in off the streets. Okay?”
I contract my stomach muscles, and clench my teeth. “Of course,” I say, nodding. “I’ll do it.”
“Good man,” Salvatore says.
“Bring her to me tonight,” Monty says.
Salvatore regards me. “No, Pop. Let’s let him fuck her one more time. It’s the least we can do.”
The commercials end, and Monty’s game comes back on. He gives us a dismissive wave, and turns back to the television. “Sure, whatever,” he grumbles.
“Bring her in first thing tomorrow morning,” Sal says to me. “And don’t look so grim. You’ll find another piece of ass.”
*
I drive to Jess’ apartment as fast as LA traffic will allow, breaking several laws along the way. Salvatore said I had until morning, but after the stunt he pulled, I don’t trust him for one fucking second. I should be grateful, really. Monty and Salvatore showed me that my loyalty to them, and vice versa, is complete bullshit. After all this time of doing their dirty work, I have no idea how much of it was based on lies. Who else have I killed that was innocent? I can never be sure.
One thing I am sure of is that I won’t let them touch Jess, not one hair on her head. I’ll make sure of that. And I don’t have the shackles of loyalty holding me back.
Beware the Snake Page 14
