by Hamel, B. B.
I raised an eyebrow. “Bombs?”
“Sure. Some Irish guys learned it when they were working with the IRA. They used to plant roadside bombs all the time to kill the loyalists and the protestants. Those Provos liked the bombs, you know? It was easy and worked really well, at least for a while.”
“Can’t say I know much about the troubles,” I said.
She waved that away. “Doesn’t matter. Anyway, back then, there were always guys around and my mom was always helping them out. Not with the bombs or whatever, but making tea and coffee, making them food, that sort of thing. I think she was doing their laundry too, or at least I remember finding a basket full of bloodstained clothes one time, and I swore I’d never seen any of it before.”
“That war went on for a while. I think it got pretty bad, you know? I remember seeing guys come to the house with bloody faces and guns showing, and my father would shout and send me to my room, but I’d sit and listen at the steps. They were always talking about killing and shooting and blowing stuff up, and I didn’t really understand any of it back then.
“One day though, the guys were at the house, then they went out to do something. I knew it was something serious, since my dad was really quiet, and the other guys weren’t laughing and joking like they normally did. My dad kissed my mom goodbye and went off with this group of men. When they were gone, she took me to the neighbor’s house and had me stay there for the night.”
She stopped and sipped her coffee again. She didn’t start speaking for nearly five minutes, but I gave her time to gather herself and process her thoughts.
“I wasn’t there when it happened,” she said. “I heard the gunshots though. Sounded like thunder, but right outside my window. Loudest thing I’d ever heard in my life. I remember our neighbor, this older woman named Rita, she dragged me off and pushed me into a closet and told me to stay there until the shooting stopped. Well it sounded like the shooting went on forever, you know? But it couldn’t have been more than a few minutes. And when it was over…” She trailed off and shook her head.
“I’m sorry,” I said, not sure of what else to say.
“I stayed with Rita for the night like I was supposed to. Nobody came to get me until night time the next day, but I think Rita knew, because she was being so nice to me all day. Let me do whatever I wanted, it was a lot of fun. But then my dad came to get me, and he was all hollowed eyed, you know, his eyes were red from crying, and he told me that mom got killed. That someone came and shot up our house, and she got killed.” She paused for a second and touched her palm against the window then pulled it away.
“On some level, I think I always knew those bullets were meant for my dad and all those men. But I guess whoever did the shooting came too late? Missed them by maybe a half hour. And my mom got hit instead. I always wondered who did it, and wondered if they even realized what happened, but I doubt it. They just drove off and didn’t care.”
“You’re probably right,” I said, my voice soft. “They probably had no clue.”
She made a sweeping gesture with one hand then patted her knee. “My dad stayed in the Club for a little while after that. Ended the war, I think he went a little crazy, because I remember the guys looking at him weird for a while, a little afraid of him, you know? But after it was all over, he begged my uncle to let him retire, and they did, they let him walk away with no strings attached. We moved to a different house in the neighborhood, he got a job working construction, and we just… moved on. I lost all my Club friends and tried to pretend like everything was okay, even though my world was completely broken.”
She stopped talking and leaned her head up against the headrest. She held the coffee against her chest then lowered it down into her lap. I watched her for a few breaths before I shook my head and turned down a side street, the car rolling along.
“I can’t imagine,” I said. “Losing everything like that. And you were just a kid. You probably didn’t even understand why.”
“No, I didn’t,” she said. “But I learned as I got older, and I started to hate the Club, you know? They took so much from me.”
“I can’t blame you for that,” I said. “I would’ve hated them too.”
“Now it’s like that all over again,” she said. “They’re taking my father away, and I just… I don’t understand it. They didn’t need to go this far.”
“You’re right.” I spoke softly as I turned a corner and drove through Club territory. “Here’s the thing. I was thinking the other day, about our tour through this neighborhood.”
She gave me a flat look. “You think I missed something?”
“You didn’t show me where your uncle lives,” I said.
She took a deep breath and let it out. She didn’t speak for a minute and I could feel her tension growing.
“I didn’t want to,” she said. “I thought… thought you might do something stupid.”
“Like what?” I asked.
“Like breaking into his house and killing him.”
I laughed and tilted my head. “But that’s exactly what you should want me to do.”
“Maybe before they took my dad. But now, I can’t be sure he’s not in there and you won’t kill him by mistake.”
I clenched my jaw. I wanted to say that I didn’t make mistakes like that, but so far this whole war had been one botched fucking attack after the next. Maybe it was because my crew was made up of young soldiers without much experience, or maybe I’d been a little too aggressive and didn’t plan enough.
I wasn’t going to make that mistake moving forward.
“I want to get your father out,” I said. “I want to bring him home for you, Colleen. But I can’t do that if I don’t know where he is.”
“We don’t even know he’s at my uncle’s place,” she said.
“Oh, he’s there, all right.” My voice felt like a low rumble in my chest. “Your uncle isn’t the kind of man to keep someone that important anywhere else.”
She gave me a look and shook her head. “I don’t know.”
“Point it out to me,” I said. “I won’t do anything without your approval first.”
She snorted. “I don’t believe you.”
“Try anyway,” I said.
She rubbed at her temples then ran her fingers through her hair. “I don’t believe you,” she said again. “I don’t think you’re the kind of man to run anything past anyone.”
“Maybe,” I said and ran my hands over the steering wheel. I stared straight ahead, didn’t glance in her direction. “Maybe you’re right about that. But I’m trying to change here, because the way I’ve been hasn’t worked. So help me step up and do better.”
She shifted in her seat and put her mug down in the cup holder. She pulled out her seatbelt and released it, let it snap back into place across her chest.
“All right,” she said. “But I’m serious, Steven. You can’t… you can’t just attack him without talking to me first. Okay? Do you swear?”
“I swear,” he said.
“Turn left up here.”
She gave me directions and we rolled down a quiet, boring street. There were typical sedans on the block, and the houses all looked the same, with the same stoop and the same simple door. She pointed out the window at a house with a black door and bars over the downstairs windows, but otherwise it looked like any other house in on the block.
“That’s him,” she said.
I kept going and didn’t stop. “Anything I should know about it?” I asked.
“I don’t know,” she said. “I haven’t been there since I was a little girl. He had an alarm system back then, but I don’t know what’s there now.”
He nodded. “All right. Thank you for showing me that, Colleen.”
“Do you really mean it when you say you’re going to get my dad?” she asked.
“I really mean it,” I said. “As far as I’m concerned, if I can get your father back, I can win this war in an afternoon. He’s the only thing hol
ding me back now.”
She sucked in a breath and chewed on her cheek then picked up her mug and took a long sip.
“Okay,” she said, nodding her head, her hair bobbing up and down. “All right. I trust you.”
“Good.” I reached out and touched her knee. She took my hand and held it in her own then kissed my fingers. I looked at her and felt a pang of desire rocket through my chest at her wide eyes and pretty pink lips.
I wasn’t going to let her down. I’d already let too many people down, already got Davide killed, already let Colleen get shot. No more bullshit, no more mistakes moving forward. I wasn’t going to fail, and I wasn’t going to let anyone else get hurt.
No more fuck ups, no more mistakes.
19
Colleen
After pointing out my uncle’s house to Steven, he dropped me off at his place and drove off. I lingered on his front porch and watched his car disappear down the street before heading back inside the house. I walked back into the kitchen, dumped my mug, then took my phone from my back pocket and stared at the screen.
I powered it on. Text and emails chimed. I ignored them and pulled up the phone app.
My father’s phone rang. I was surprised but kept myself under control. It rang and rang, and I knew it was about to click over to the familiar voicemail. He almost never answered on the first call, he was always leaving his phone somewhere out of reach where he couldn’t hear it or couldn’t get to it in time.
But instead, the phone clicked to life. I stood there dumbfounded as I heard someone at the other end.
Then my uncle’s voice came over the line.
“Colleen,” he said. “Or is this Steven?”
“It’s me,” I said.
He chuckled. My uncle, that bastard. Rage burst to life through my chest. My hand gripped the edge of the counter as my nostrils fared and my lips curled up into a snarl. I recognized that laugh, had heard it so many times as a girl growing up with the Club, but now it drove me wild with animal anger.
“What can I do for you, niece?” he asked.
“Let me father go,” I said. “That’s a start.”
He chuckled again. “I don’t think so.”
“Why did you take him?” I asked. “He got out. You let him out. You know we have nothing to do with any of this.”
“And yet you’re staying with Steven Bianco. Which is strange, since he’s been killing my boys.”
“I got shot,” I said, my voice a rabid snarl. “He took me in.” I touched the bandage on my shoulder. It still throbbed sometimes when I moved my arm too fast, but mostly I’d forgotten all about it.
“Sounds like a convenient story. Damsel in distress, saved by the gangster.”
“His people shot me. In that first hit, when he killed your dealers outside the bodega on twenty-second.”
He was quiet for a beat. “Interesting,” he said.
“I’m not involved with him,” I said. “You think I betrayed you, but I didn’t.”
He took a deep breath and let it out, the air cracking into the receiver. “All right, niece,” he said. “If that’s true, and I highly doubt that it is, then I suppose you’d be willing to do anything to get your father back, wouldn’t you?”
“You could just let him go right now,” I said.
“Oh, of course, but I won’t.” He breathed into the receiver. “I want you to do something for me. You will do something for me, niece?”
“What do you want?” I asked.
“I want you to listen,” he said. “That’s all. Just listen to what Steven Bianco is up to. He’s been quiet lately, but I know that won’t last. He’s been planning, hasn’t he?”
“Yes,” I said.
“I thought so.” He sighed. “Of course he is. I need you to listen, niece, and I need you to report to me what he says. If you can do that, if you can give me something useful, then I’ll consider letting your father go.”
“That’s all you want?” I asked. “Just information?”
“Just information.”
I stared down at the tile floor. My heart was beating fast and I felt a drop of sweat run down my back. I felt paralyzed, like I was trapped between two walls closing in against me on either side, threatening to crush me between their weight.
“Okay,” I said, and my voice sounded far away.
“Good,” he said. “I expect a message soon. Text me if that’s safer, but send me something in the next day or so. If that pans out, we’ll go from there.”
“I’m not… I’m not going to be your spy.”
“That’s exactly what you’ll do,” he said. “And if you don’t, I’ll make sure your father knows about it.”
“Don’t touch him,” I said. “He doesn’t deserve this. You took enough already.”
“Do what I told you and he’ll be fine,” Uncle Mathis said. “And don’t be stupid, Colleen. You know me, and you should know what I’m capable of.”
He hung up the phone without another word.
I stood there and slowly put my phone down on the counter top. I turned and gripped the edge with both hands, leaning up against it, my head hung forward, my chin almost against my chest.
I closed my eyes and tried to steady my breathing, but it still came in ragged gasps as my heart kept racing away.
I couldn’t do this. I couldn’t betray Steven, even if it meant getting my father back. But then again, I didn’t owe him anything. The only reason I was here and involved in any of this is because his men shot me.
“Fuck,” I whispered. “Oh fuck, oh shit.”
I released the edge of the counter and stood in his kitchen for a long moment, my head swirling. I saw Steven at Davide’s mother’s kitchen table, grief wracking his face. I felt Steven’s hands and mouth on my body. I felt the breeze on the roof deck, smelled Steven’s skin.
There was so much more here than I realized, and I didn’t know if I could give it all up so easily.
I shook my head and left the kitchen. I marched upstairs, went into my room, and drew a bath. I undressed and took off the bandage that covered my bullet wound. I stared at the stitches and the black and blue marks, already starting to fade into yellow nothing.
Something so small, and yet so big. It had changed my life completely and I knew I could never go back.
All I had to do was spy on Steven for my uncle. That was all, and then I could be free.
I stepped into the tub and tried to quiet my hammering heart.
20
Steven
I woke up early the next morning. My head ached from too many glasses of whisky and I smelled like a god damn bar. I rolled onto my side and pressed my hand against the empty half of the bed and for a brief moment, wondered where Colleen had gone.
But she’d slept in her own damn room. I sat up with a groan and ran a hand through my hair as my phone kept ringing.
That must’ve been a dream. Colleen in my bed, her body naked and lean and gorgeous, a smile on her lips.
I reached for my phone and picked it up. “What?” I said.
“Steven, man, you gotta come down here.” It was Luca, and the panic in his voice woke me up.
“What happened?” I asked, already getting out of bed. I put the phone on speaker as I grabbed clothes from my closet and threw them onto the bed.
“It’s the Endless Well,” he said.
For a second, I wasn’t sure what the hell he was talking about. But then I remembered the bar a few blocks away. It was a new spot, a hipster joint with overpriced fancy cocktails and too much industrial steel all over the place. The bartender had piercings in his fucking eyebrows and always looked at me like I was some kind of moron.
I loved that guy. Always made me laugh.
“Talk,” I said as I got my toothbrush out. I brushed my teeth as Luca ran through the situation.
“It’s on fire,” he said.
I spit the toothpaste out. “What?”
“Fire,” he said. “Burning. It’s fucking
burning, Steven.”
“Right now?”
“Right now! Look out your fuckin’ window, man.”
I walked to the window, toothbrush dangling from my teeth, and sure enough I could see smoke rolling up into the air.
I ran back into the bathroom. “Fire department there yet?” I asked.
“They’re on the way.”
“Good. Keep everyone clear. I’m coming down.”
“Steven—”
I hung up the phone and cursed as it clattered to the floor. I finished brushing, splashed water in my face, then threw on the clothes I picked out. I shoved my phone into my pocket, put my Glock in my waistband, then ran down the steps. I threw open Colleen’s door and she stirred then looked up at me, blinking sleep from her eyes.
“Steven?” she asked.
“There’s a fire,” I said. “Get up and get dressed. Right now. We have to go.”
She groaned and sat up. The sheets fell away and my eyes dropped to her breasts. Her nipples were hard, pointing through her thin white tank top. She ran a hand through her messy hair and shook her head.
“What time is it?”
“Early. I’m not kidding Colleen, get up and get dressed. We need to go.”
“Okay, alright.” She swung her legs off the bed. “How bad is it?”
“I don’t know yet.”
She got up and went into the bathroom. I leaned against the doorframe and watched her get ready. She rinsed her face off, brushed her teeth, then caught me staring.
“Privacy?” she asked.
“You were just getting to the good part.” I turned away. “Leaving in two minutes.”
I ran down the steps. There wasn’t enough time for coffee, so I settled for five Advil and a big glass of water to fight the hangover pounding away at my skull. Exactly two minutes later, Colleen came down the steps, her hair in a messy bun. She wore jean shorts and a big black hooded sweatshirt.
“Come on,” I said, and headed out the front door.
She followed then stopped on the sidewalk, gawping up at the smoke.
