by S. J. Bishop
44
Lars
I slammed on the brakes just in time to avoid hitting the taxi in front of me. The driver leaned out his window and yelled something in a language I didn't recognize. I assumed it wasn't "Congrats on the game!"
I took a deep breath and tried to get myself under control. I couldn't believe that I was sweating in January. I tapped the heater of my car. It wasn't even on.
"Get it together, get it together," I muttered to myself, but I couldn't stop my heart from pounding and my eyes from stinging as I blinked back tears. This was all my fault. If anything happened to Clarissa, I would never forgive myself.
I had no idea what to do. I knew it was impossible that I would come up with the money in time. Even if I had days instead of hours, or weeks instead of days, I still wouldn't have been able to come up with it. I had about fifty thousand in the bank right now. Half of my money from signing with the Giants had gone to taxes; the rest had been split between all those fines for fighting and feeding the lavish lifestyle I'd become accustomed to. I didn't have anywhere near to a million dollars, let alone a hundred million. I tried to sift through a mental list of all the guys I knew who might have that kind of money. Some of the guys on the team, like Matt, made a fortune. Although things had been better between us, I didn't think we were on the sort of terms where I could call him up and ask him to lend me one hundred million dollars.
What had I been thinking by allowing Angelo back into my life for even one second? Ash would be so disappointed in me. Thinking of Ash made me think of something I hadn't considered until now. I fished my phone out and dialed Tony's number.
"Congratulations!" Tony shouted into the phone as soon as he'd answered. "I should feel honored you're calling a bum like me right after winning your big game. By the way, thank you for that. I just won a cool little pile of cash."
"I don't suppose it's a hundred million dollar pile of cash, is it?" I asked, half joking, half serious.
"Not quite that much, buddy. Why...what's up?" He must've heard a hint of the desperation in my voice, even though I was trying my best to keep it out.
"Angelo," I said, my voice thick with anger.
"What about him?"
"He's got Clarissa." I took a deep breath, realizing that Tony would have no idea who I was talking about unless I clarified. I couldn't believe I was about to say this, but the word came out feeling so natural to me that I knew it was right. "My girlfriend."
The silence was deafening. I could picture Tony's face in my mind as I sped through the city traffic toward Sky Island Bridge. I almost sideswiped another cab and forced myself to slow down. The last thing I needed to do right now was crash.
"You've got a girlfriend?" Tony finally said.
"Yeah. More than a girlfriend, actually." I sighed. It killed me to admit what I'd gotten into with Angelo. The last time I'd talked to Tony, not so long ago, he'd warned me about this very thing. "You were right, man. What you said before about the old life having a way of sucking you back in...that's just what happened. I made a deal with Angelo."
"Fuck, Lars. I thought you were through with that shit!"
"I was. I am. I pulled out. But you can imagine how Angelo took that."
"What's the score? Tell me exactly what we're dealing with here."
"He says I owe him a hundred million dollars."
"Run that by me again," Tony said, cutting me off. "Did you say one hundred grand?"
"One hundred million," I repeated. I could almost hear Tony thinking. "He's gonna kill my girlfriend...and my unborn child...if he doesn't get his money by midnight." I looked at the dashboard as the clock rolled around to 10:20.
"Tell me what you want me to do," Tony said, and the sweat that had broken across my forehead began to finally subside. I laid out my new plan, and when we hung up, I had at least an inkling of hope that things might end up okay. The biggest problem facing us now was Tony's location. In Super Bowl traffic, it could take him anywhere up to two hours to get to Sky Island. We'd be cutting it close. Too close. I had to find a way to stall.
I dialed a new number. One I'd never called before but was now grateful I had in my phone.
"Hello? Lars?" Madeline's voice was foggy. It sounded like she'd been crying.
"Hey, Madeline. Did you mean what you said before? About wanting to help Clarissa?"
"Yes," she cried. "Anything!"
"And you're sure you never talked to him? Did he ever see your face?"
"If he did, it was only with that God awful makeup on."
"Okay then, this is what I need you to do..."
45
Clarissa
I ran as fast as I possibly could, as long as I could, until I felt the cramps start in my side. I was woefully out of shape and couldn't seem to prevent my legs from finally slowing down. I saw Manhattan across the river and finally realized where we were—Sky Island Bridge. I'd heard of it before and seen pictures, but I hadn't come by it since moving to New York. At over twelve hundred feet long, I considered it a feat of strength that I had even made it part of the way across.
I paused with about a quarter of the way to go, sucking in a great gulp of air as I leaned against one of the steel towers and started to move again. But it was too late. I felt Angelo's hand grasp my hair and pull me back. My legs wobbled as he coiled my hair around his hand like a snake, using it to hold me steady.
"You're lucky I don't kill you now," he snarled.
"Fuck you!" I shouted, struggling to get out of his grasp.
Angelo gave me that tiny, tight smile I was coming to know. It looked more like a smirk than a smile. I wasn't sure whether he was laughing at me or happy for the opportunity to make me pay for my crime of trying to escape. He shoved me back the way we'd come, and I had no choice but to obey. Every time I tried to move, his hand tightened on my hair, pulling so hard it felt like he was ripping every strand right out of my head. If I ever got out of this, I was getting a haircut.
"Please," I said as we walked, trying to think of some way to appeal to him. "You know I'm pregnant. I heard you say you have daughters of your own. What if they were pregnant? Wouldn't you want them to...to have the opportunity to..." I was making shit up as I went along, no idea where I was going with it, "...to have their child safely and raise it to be a good person. You're not evil. You don't kill children, do you?"
Angelo's hand stiffened, and I realized I'd said the wrong thing. "I've never killed a child in my life. But your situation is hardly the same. Your friend Madeline filled me in with a great many details. Like how you planned to abort your own child. So I doubt the concern you're showing for it now is very sincere."
My eyes watered at the mention of Madeline and what I'd planned to do. Now that I was in this situation, all I could think about was keeping my baby safe. I had no idea where Lars was or what was happening to him right now, but I hoped he was figuring out a way to get Angelo his money. All I wanted to do was go home. I pictured Treena sitting beside my father at the hospital. What if he woke up and I wasn't there? What if...I gulped...what if I was never there again? What if Treena had to go down to the morgue to identify my body?
Tears ran over my cheeks as Angelo finally caught back up with Marco. There were more men with him now, and I realized how foolish I'd been to assume that it would just be him and Angelo here.
"What does Madeline have to do with anything? How do you even know her?" I asked Angelo, crushed to hear that someone I had once considered my best friend had anything to do with my current situation.
"She just told me what I wanted to know. I think she felt bad about it after she told me if it makes you feel any better," Angelo said, releasing my hair.
I immediately turned to run again, but Marco caught me easily and held a knife to my throat. A phone rang in Angelo's pocket as I tried to keep my breaths shallow. I didn't like how close Marco's blade was to my skin.
"What news do you have for me?" Angelo asked, looking at his watch. "I see. Well,
that is good news. I'll see you shortly, then."
He hung up and turned to Marco.
"Marco, you may lower your knife. But do keep it close by. This one's much feistier than I've given her credit for."
Angelo looked at me now. "You'll be glad to know that was Lars. He's on his way with the money. So you should be free from this situation in no time. Unless, of course, he's lying. Then you'll both be dead. But at least if that happens, you'll be together."
46
Lars
I got out of the car, approaching the foot of the bridge slowly. Two of Angelo's men stood there, waiting for me.
"I don't have a gun," I snapped at them, setting down the two briefcases I was carrying. They both laughed.
"Sure, we'll just take your word for that," the bigger of the two goons said, patting me down. His large, grimy hands worked their way uncomfortably close to my crotch before he finally stood up and nodded to his partner. They let me pass.
I walked slowly up the bridge, looking around me to try to sort out just how many men Angelo had with him. There were the two goons down at the foot of the bridge and Marco. There were probably two more at the opposite end of the bridge, but I couldn't make that side out. That made six total, including Angelo himself. I hoped Tony brought more than that. I took a deep breath and kept walking. My legs began to ache. I'd rather drive across a bridge any day of the week than walk over one. Or maybe I only felt that way right now because I'd just come through four quarters in the Super Bowl. It felt like I walked at least two miles as I made my way to the middle of the bridge. I looked over the railing as I went. I told myself not to, I'd never been fond of heights, but I couldn't seem to stop myself. It was like looking at a car wreck. The more I walked, the higher the bridge climbed, until finally I was at the midpoint where Angelo and Marco were standing with Clarissa. Now that I was here, I saw the situation was even worse than I'd originally feared.
"Hi, Angelo," I said, approaching him cautiously. I didn't want to make any sudden movements. He was standing a few feet away from Marco, who was beside Clarissa as she sat teetering on the edge of the bridge, a knife to her throat. One push and she'd be done. I cursed the city for taking so long to install the safety net of wires they'd been talking about for the last two years. If they had, then there'd be no way for Clarissa to fall over the side now.
"Lars, it's good to see you," Angelo said. I'd never noticed before how slimy his voice sounded when he was trying to smooth talk someone. Had he always sounded like this?
I looked past him at Clarissa. I didn't like the way her tear-stained face was staring terrified at the knife Marco held on her.
"Clarissa?" I called. "You alright?"
She looked at me, silently nodding her head. I returned my gaze to Angelo. "I've got your money," I said, indicating the two briefcases I was carrying.
"Good," he said. "Hand them to me, and I'll send your girlfriend over."
I needed to find a way to stall a little longer and give Madeline some time. "Uh-uh, no way. You send Clarissa over first, then I give you the money."
Angelo smiled. "I believe we are at an impasse."
"Well then, we're just gonna have to remain at an impasse, I guess."
We stood staring at each other, neither of us refusing to back down. The problem was we each knew how stubborn the other one could be when pressed. "I'll tell you what," I finally said. "We make the exchange at the same time. I hand you the money at the same time you hand over Clarissa."
Angelo tilted his head, considering my offer. "No," he finally said, and I knew that was the end of it. "You give me the money, then you get the girl. That's how I always do business, you know that."
I took a deep breath. "Fine. If that's what it takes to get Clarissa. Only, I want Marco to stop fixing his knife on her like that."
Angelo looked toward Marco and nodded almost imperceptibly. Marco lowered his knife.
I walked as slowly as I could toward Angelo. Finally, I got to him and I had no choice but to hand over the briefcases before he started getting suspicious. Where is she?
Suddenly, I heard a woman squeal. I turned and saw Madeline running up the bridge without a jacket, dressed in almost nothing. She had on her six-inch heels, a mini skirt, and something that looked like a bra but I think was, technically, some kind of shirt. The word crop top sprung to mind, but I had no idea whether that was right.
"Oh my Goooood!" she squealed, running up between me and Angelo, knocking the briefcases out of his hands as she started pawing at me. She'd done a good job with the booze. I could smell it on her a mile away. If I hadn't known better, I'd have thought she was drunk as shit. The two guards that Angelo had posted were chasing after her. "I knew I recognized you! Even from way down there! You're Lars Kaine!" She slid her hands up and down my body, jumping around like an excited five-year-old on Christmas morning.
Angelo picked up the briefcases while she continued to bounce up and down. The guards were standing there watching her, apparently deciding she wasn't much of a threat. She clearly had nowhere to hide any kind of weapon. Angelo was about to open one of the briefcases. My heart pounded as I braced myself for what would come.
Madeline quickly turned to him, her eyes going wide. "Oh my Goooood!" she squealed again, throwing her arms around Angelo's neck and knocking the briefcases from his hands once more. "Are you famous, too? You're even better looking than he is!" Angelo tried to push her off, but she clung tightly to him, rubbing her tits against his chest. She grabbed hold of his face and kissed him. "Let's get out of here," she purred, laying her head against his shoulder and kissing his neck.
The guards approached, but Angelo waved them off. "Listen, sweetie," he said, eyeing her up and down. "I appreciate what you're offering, but now isn't exactly the best time."
"Awww," she pouted. She started kissing Angelo's neck, and I could see male instinct kick in. Slowly, she reached down and let her hand glide along his crotch. His eyes turned dark and glassy. "I just love famous men. You look famous enough to me." She nibbled at his ear again and wrapped one leg around his waist. I could see the two guards drooling over her and thought she'd be pleased.
Angelo's eyes were starting to get that glassy look. He'd stopped paying attention to the briefcases and starting fondling Madeline's backside. Never taking his eyes off of Madeline, who was still kissing his neck and rubbing her tits against him, he called out to his goons, "Grab the briefcases, and let's get out of here." They each took one without a word, exchanging a silent look with each other that said Angelo was one lucky bastard, and started down the bridge to the car. Angelo wrapped his arm around Madeline's waist. "Come on, babe," he said, and starting ushering her toward the car.
"What about Clarissa?" I asked. Angelo looked back toward Marco and tilted his head, indicating she could go. Clarissa was scooting off the edge of the bridge, where she'd been sitting, when Marco put up one hand, stopping her.
"Wait a second," he said, squinting toward Madeline. "I know that girl. She's a friend of Clarissa's. I saw her at the hospital."
Immediately, Angelo pulled away from her.
Shit.
Madeline froze. She looked from me to Clarissa. "I don't know what he's talking about, sweetie," she said, kissing him and trying to paw her way back into his good graces.
"Frankie! Brad! Get back over here with those briefcases!" I could see him starting to put things together in his head and tried to inch my way toward Clarissa, hoping to get to her before he put two and two together. Angelo was staring hard at Madeline. He wrapped a hand behind her neck and pulled her to within an inch of his face. When she'd been pawing all over him, he hadn't stopped to look beyond her tits and long legs. Now, he was studying her. Inspecting every millimeter of her face. Madeline looked frightened, but she was clearly trying not to let it show. I had to give it to her—she was a better actress than I ever would have thought. Whether it was dust carried by the wind or nerves or fate, it was unfortunate timing that Madeline
couldn’t control a sneeze at this exact moment. Her chipmunk squeak rang out into the night. Angelo's eyes widened.
"Shit," he said. "How could I be so fucking stupid?"
"What are you talking about?" Madeline asked, trying to look innocent.
"I do know you... witch."
Madeline opened her mouth, but Angelo cut her off with a look. He took one briefcase and walked over to the ledge where Clarissa sat. My heart skipped a beat as he opened it.
"Angelo," I said. "Wait."
But the briefcase clicked open. Old newspapers stared back at him. Angelo turned to me, shooting me his grimy little smirk. "Nice," he said. "I almost bought it."
I crept closer to him until I was within a couple feet of Clarissa. She looked petrified. Marco was holding his knife toward her again. It was pointed at her chest.
"Angelo, please. I can get you the money. I just need more time."
"Oh, I know you'll get the money," Angelo said. He looked at Clarissa. "It's too bad, really. She's pretty, this one. Well, what can you do?" He turned back to me. "One down, one to go. You've got twenty-four hours."
"Wait, what do you mean? One down? One to go?" I stared at Clarissa, wanting to grab her but knowing if I acted too rashly, it would mean her death.
"Oh," Angelo said nonchalantly as if he were giving me a recipe for lasagna instead of making threats. "I took the precaution of sending some men to your mother's house. They should be there by now. So even though Clarissa's gone, you should be happy to know that your mother isn't. Yet."
"I'm not gone," Clarissa said, her voice barely audible. "I'm right here."
