by Hamel, B. B.
“You should be afraid,” I said softly. “You’d be crazy not to be.”
“But I’m still here. I mean, I can run whenever, right? And the Don might come after me, or he might not. The Healys could hunt me, or maybe I’m not worth the trouble. I could go find out, and instead, I’m staying in here, with you.”
“With the monster,” I said, and pulled her tight against me.
“What’s wrong with me?” she asked. “Am I broken like you? Broken in the same way?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “Maybe not the same way, but maybe that makes this work.”
“I’m afraid,” she whispered.
I kissed her, and didn’t give a damn about anything else.
The Don, the family, trafficking girls, selling drugs, blood and teeth and bullets, none of it mattered as I kissed her, held her close against me, and I felt a stirring of something I didn’t know I had, something deeper where maybe my soul lived. I broke off the kiss and looked into her eyes, and I knew I had to make her my wife.
This wasn’t about the Don anymore. I had what I needed, right here in front of me, and I’d known it from the start.
“I’m still going to kill Colm,” I whispered, and kissed her neck, my hands moving along her hips, up to her breasts. “I’m not going to stop.”
“I know,” she moaned. “I don’t think I care.”
“Good.” I tugged her down to the couch, peeled off her clothes, and spent the rest of the afternoon making her body sweat, making her back arch, making her scream.
18
Tara
Baby May’s was a diner at the edge of Drexel’s campus tucked down an alley and surrounded by dive bars. The front was glass plastered over with generic pictures of food and from the outside it seemed like a real dump. College kids came and went, some of them carrying plastic to-go containers, but there was no sign of any Healy guys.
We sat across the street in a small park on some benches set back from the sidewalk. Young guys with backpacks and headphones kept glaring at us like we were taking up their bench, but Ewan didn’t seem to mind. “Beats sitting in the car,” he said as he draped an arm across the back of the bench.
“Think he was telling the truth?” I asked as a group of girls walked past, laughing loudly about something, probably making plans about where they’d get drunk that night.
“I think so,” Ewan said. “Hard to lie after seeing your friend get shot in the gut, and knowing you’re next.”
I chewed on my lip and looked at him. “Would you really have killed him?” I asked.
“Nah,” he said. “Wouldn’t have killed him. I planned on shooting him in the knee.”
She shook her head and laughed softly. The idea was so absurd, but I couldn’t help myself. Apparently, that was an acceptable alternative to murder now, and this was my world.
Midafternoon rolled past and Ewan called it a day. The next morning, we arrived even earlier, but no sign of the Healy family. For an entire week, I got up at the crack of dawn so we could sit on that bench across from the entrance and watch people come and go. We arrived before the place opened, and left around noon, just in case Colm was into brunch.
“I’m starting to think we got played,” I said, leaning my head on his shoulder, a hot coffee in my lap. It was ten past six and the diner had been open for over an hour.
“He didn’t lie,” Ewan said, which had become something like a refrain. He was so sure that Hyde told the truth, but it seemed like that wasn’t the case.
I was ready to give up. Ewan would find some other way to get at Colm, or maybe he’d move on to something else, but that was wishful thinking. Ewan wasn’t the kind of man that would turn his back on a job, especially one that involved his family’s honor.
He was obsessed with hurting the Healy family for hurting the Don. Even if the Don was starting a trafficking business, he couldn’t help himself. The Valentino name was too important to Ewan for him to stop now, and the only thing that would make things remotely good again was to murder Colm. If the Healys could hurt the Don, then Ewan had to take that one step further and finish off their leader.
Part of me thought it was just toxic masculinity, but there was some logic to the whole show. On the streets, in their business, power came from perception as much as strength. If the low-level guys, the dealers and the soldiers, if they all saw the Don as strong then they’d do almost anything for him, but if they thought the Valentino family was weak then there’d be some hesitation and dissent in the ranks.
During a war, the Don couldn’t have that. I understood why Ewan wanted to push this whole assassination thing forward, but it still seemed like it wouldn’t work out—
At least until around six forty-five, a black SUV appeared, and two men stepped out.
Ewan sat up straight. “Look,” he hissed, leaning forward onto his elbows. The SUV drove off, leaving the two men alone out in front of the diner. One was heavyset and wore a long black jacket and khaki slacks. His hair was frizzy and thinning, and his ears and nose drooped. The other man was around the same age, but fitter, athletic and tall, wearing a sweater and jeans, with a dark baseball cap pulled down low over his face.
“Who are they?” I asked.
“The fat one’s Fergal Healy,” he said. “Vice officer of the family, second-in-command and Colm’s younger brother.”
I sucked in a breath. “And that would make the other guy?”
“That’s Colm,” he said, eyes burning bright, and he looked at me grinning huge. “I fucking told you Hyde didn’t lie.”
I groaned and rolled my eyes. He couldn’t help himself. Had to get in the last word. “Fine, you were right,” I said. “But what now? You go in there, guns blazing?”
“No,” he said, shaking his head. “I need you to go pull the car around.”
“Around here?”
“End of the block over there,” he said, pointing. His words came out rushed and excited, and he had a sudden manic gleam. “Park in front of the fire hydrant and put on your four-ways.”
“Won’t that draw attention?”
“It’s a college neighborhood, you’ll be fine.” He shoved the keys into my hands. “Get moving.”
“What do I do after that?”
“Sit tight and wait. You’ll see.” He practically pushed me off the bench. “Get moving.”
I started walking then looked over my shoulder. Ewan fidgeted in his seat and nodded at me, brushing his hands in the air to shoo me along. I chewed on my cheek but hurried off, around the block, and down a couple more toward the south to where we parked the car. I got inside and drove it to the spot Ewan pointed out. I put on the four-ways and leaned down low in the seat, arms crossed over my chest, hoping and praying that none of the Healy guys noticed me.
There was no way their leader went to a public place for breakfast like that without a ton of backup. Those two were the heads of the family, and if they got killed, the Healys would have a lot of problems. There were other Healy men to step into their positions, but there’d be infighting, and the Valentino family would be able to swoop in during the chaos to take them all out.
And yet I saw nobody. I kept the engine running and bounced my knee nervously, not sure what I was supposed to do. Ten minutes turned to thirty turned to forty, and finally the front doors opened, and the two men stepped out again. They talked to each other, Colm laughed about something, then they began walking down the block.
Ewan came speeding toward me. He had his hands shoved in his pockets and his head hanging low. He jumped into the passenger side then pounded on the dash. “Follow them,” he said.
“Follow where?”
“That way,” he said, pointing, and I pulled out into traffic.
I rolled past Colm and Fergal as they meandered along, talking to each other genially. I went around the block and we stopped at a stop sign long enough for Ewan to run around and get behind the wheel. I felt better in the passenger’s seat as he took control and rolle
d ahead, driving fast, until we spotted Fergal and Colm climbing into a black SUV.
Ewan tailed them. The SUV took a circuitous route through West Philly, dipped along South Street, headed toward the stadiums, then doubled back north again. “What are they doing?” I wondered aloud.
“Trying to keep me from sticking with them,” Ewan said.
“Do they know we’re back here?”
“No,” he said, though he didn’t sound sure. “They’re being careful.”
“Why?” I asked. “They just got back from having breakfast as some secret spot.”
“I have a feeling we’ll find out soon.” He leaned forward over the wheel, and we continued the chase. The SUV followed every traffic rule, and drove carefully, but continued its strange, shifting route. Eventually it crossed back into West Philly and kept going past Drexel, out to the edge of the suburbs, where the houses turned from row homes to single-floor ranchers with grassy front lawns and back yards.
The SUV slowed and stopped in front of one of houses. It was small, green shutters, big red door. The lawn was well maintained, the flowerbeds mulched and weeded. A nice Cadillac sat in the driveway. Ewan went around the block and when we returned, Colm stood on the front porch, smoking a cigar alone.
I saw Ewan’s face then. It was strained, a mix of anger and need. He wanted to roll his window down and try to kill Colm right then and there. The opportunity had presented itself, and Colm was totally unaware. The SUV was gone and presumably Fergal was gone with it, but Calm was the real target, the guy that Ewan really wanted.
I put a hand on his arm. He looked at me, eyes blazing, and kept driving past. We parked two blocks down, and he leaned back in his seat, staring out ahead of him.
“That’s Colm’s house,” he said.
“You got the number?”
He nodded. “I’ll never forget it. Bastard’s right there, like he’s safe.”
“Probably thinks he is.” I took his hand in mine. “You did the right thing, driving on. You need to plan something, right?”
“Yeah,” he said, turning his head to look at me. “But mostly I didn’t want you to see me do it.”
I let out a sharp laugh. “Seriously?”
“You’ve seen enough already,” he said. “I can’t keep hurting people in front of you.”
It was so absurd that I couldn’t help the laughter as it spilled out. I shook my head and released his hand, and tried to calm myself down, but it was impossible.
He killed my father in front of me. He shot Franz in the gut like it was no big deal. He drowned a guy in a toilet while I watched. And now suddenly he thought maybe he shouldn’t be violent where I could see, like I was some dainty rose and he didn’t want to corrupt me. He ripped me from my life and now he worried what it might do to me.
“I’m already broken,” I said as my laughter slowed down. “Don’t you see that?”
“You don’t need to be,” he said, face lined with pain. “I don’t want that for you, Tara. I don’t want you to be like I am.”
“I think it might be too late.” I stared at him, then leaned closer and kissed his cheek. He turned, and I kissed him, slowly tasting his lips before pulling away. “I want to marry you.”
First he frowned. Then he smiled. Then his head tilted to one side and he looked confused, like he wasn’t sure what he should feel. “You’re sure?”
“I’m sure,” I said. “It’ll help you, right? And I think it’ll help me too. The Don’s never going to believe that I don’t know anything about my father’s business, and the Healys won’t ever let me escape without trying to get something from me. You’re the only one that gives a crap about me at all, and I might as well embrace it.”
That didn’t seem to ease him at all. “I don’t want to force you into this,” he said. “I’ve been clear about that from the start.”
“I know,” I said gently. “You’re not forcing anything.”
He leaned closer over the center console and touched my face, then moved back to grip my hair. He kissed me hard, deep and probing, and I returned that kiss with a shocking hunger.
I didn’t know when something shifted in me, but I wasn’t the same girl I’d been before my father’s death. I was different, altered, grownup. The world wasn’t clear anymore—it was clouded over and stained by violence and death and fear. But through it all, I kept seeing something in Ewan, something maybe not pure, maybe not good, but righteous and solid. He knew what he was and what he wanted, and even if the world didn’t live up to his expectations, he still pressed forward.
I wanted to be like that, and I thought maybe taking what I wanted was the first step toward being more myself. I could keep on trying to deny my attraction to Ewan all I wanted, but it was so clear that I couldn’t hide from it, not really. I knew it was wrong, that it was fucked up to want to be with the man that murdered my father, and at least I understood why he did it, and almost was glad it happened. My father was a monster, and he deserved to die.
I wanted to live though, and Ewan was the only way I really, truly felt alive.
“All right then,” he said softly, breaking off the kiss, his hand still twined through my hair. “I’ll have to get a ring.”
“How much money do you make, anyway?” I asked. “Three months’ salary doesn’t mean all that much in this situation.”
“Don’t worry,” he said, and kissed my lips softly. “You’ll be taken care of.”
I believed him.
He released my hair and I sat back against the seat, buzzing. He watched me carefully before putting the car in drive.
“I won’t rush you into this,” he said as he rolled away from Colm’s house, back toward the city. “When you’re ready, we’ll make plans.”
I nodded, and leaned toward him, and put my hand on his leg as he drove, and for the first time in a long time, I suddenly felt like I had a reason to keep going.
19
Ewan
When I was young, I told myself I’d never get married.
I saw what life was like for my father and my mother. They weren’t married, but their relationship was twisted and broken from the start. I thought any relationship would end up like that, and I should avoid them all to avoid getting hurt. I thought I could keep myself aloof from the rest of the world.
Until Tara came into my life. And now suddenly I wanted a wife, wanted to make her my bride. I wanted to make it real.
The Don’s house was quiet as I parked out front. It was a bright afternoon and birdsong rang from the trees lining the long driveway. Tara didn’t move as I took off my seatbelt, and she stared up at the front door, frowning a little bit. She wore a white sweater and tight black jeans, and her hair seemed to glow in the sunlight. I didn’t know how I got so lucky, to be so close to a woman like her.
“What’s the matter?” I asked.
“I’m worried about what he’ll say,” she admitted.
“He wants us to get married, remember?” I reached out and took her hand. The ring glittered on her finger. It cost more than the car, and she tried to give it back, insisted it was too much, but she had no clue that I had more money than I knew what to do with from years and years of hard service.
“I know, but he also wants something from me that I can’t give him.” She shook her head, hair spilling all over her shoulders. “I’m just worried, is all.”
“Don’t be.” I squeezed her hand. “I got you.”
She smiled a little, nodded once, and I kissed her. We got out and headed up to the door, which was opened by Bea as soon as I stepped up onto the porch like she’d been waiting by the window—which she probably was.
“How’s he doing?” I asked her quietly as we stepped into the front hall.
“Well enough,” she said with a sigh. “Dean’s been hovering around him since he got home, but otherwise I think being back is good.”
“I’m sure it is,” I said. “Has he been working?”
“Oh, you know, he’s alwa
ys working.” She smiled slightly as she led the way toward the back study. “But I do my best to keep it to a minimum.”
I glanced back at Tara and smirked slightly, raising my eyebrows. I wasn’t sure if she caught that, but Bea more or less admitted to doing some work for the Don, or at least to managing things without him. I always knew the old bat was deeply involved in the family’s affairs, but never could prove it. Tara didn’t seem to understand though, and only gave me a weird look in return.
Bea took us to the same office as last time, and left us standing outside the door. I knocked once then stepped inside, and found the Don sitting in the same spot behind his desk, this time propped up with pillows, and looked notably worse for wear.
His face was gaunt and sunken, ad his eyes looked tired. He wore a simple button-down shirt, and I could see bandages beneath. Dean hovered next to him, and both men looked over as I stood in front of the desk with Tara at my side.
“Hello, Ewan,” Don Valentino said and managed to smile. Dean stayed next to his father and leaned up against the bookshelf behind him.
“Don,” I said. “I’m glad you’re home and feeling better.”
“Hard to take me out,” the Don said. “I have some years left, you see.”
“I hope you have many,” I said, and glanced back at Tara. She looked nervous, and shifted foot to foot. “We came with news.”
“About Colm?” Dean asked, sounding eager.
I glanced at him. “About that, too.”
“Start with Colm,” the Don said.
I nodded and took a breath, steadying myself. I wanted to talk about the marriage first, but if the Don wanted to hear about Colm, then that’s what we’d do.
“I got a lead on him,” I said. “Followed him to a breakfast spot, then followed his car to a house outside of West Philly. I think he lives there.”
“You found Colm’s house?” Dean sounded genuinely surprised. “That guy’s been like a ghost. I’ve had him followed more times than I can count but he always slips away.”
