by Amanda Boone
“Your excitement is infectious,” he said dully. “I called you, but you didn’t answer, so I decided to just come by.”
“I was pretty busy today.”
“Are you carrying a bucket of vomit?”
She looked down. “Oh yeah, I was going to throw it in the dumpster. I wasn’t feeling well.”
“Well, I’m going to go,” Fiona backed away as if she saw a huge spider in her walking path. “Bye.”
Isadora and Doran watched her go with varied reactions - Doran raised an eyebrow to the strange interaction, and Isadora revealed a frown of great woe. He gave her a look and grabbed the puke bucket to throw it away for her. She stood unmoving as she watched him move to the side of the building where the dumpster lived. Her feet felt like they wore cement shoes made from the sidewalk below her.
“That’s pretty gross,” he said as he returned. “Did you get food poisoning or something?”
“Not exactly. I need to tell you something.”
“Look, I know you want to act like nothing happened. I thought I couldn’t do that, and I freaked out a little bit, but I’m okay now. I got a lot of perspective while I was away.”
“Oh.” She searched his eyes, seeing a sparkle of sadness and regret in them. “How was your dad?”
“As he usually is.”
“Your mom said he’s a businessman?”
“Not exactly. He’s more like a common thug.”
Her blood froze. “Doran, are you involved with the maf…”
Before she could continue, a noise similar to the backfiring of a car exploded at them. BANG, BANG. Doran pounced on her, bringing her to the ground and covering her with his body. Flecks of bricks from the building rained down as screams radiated around them.
“What was…” she started.
“Shh. At my mark, run for the alley at the side of the building. Understand?”
“Yes.”
“One… two… GO!”
She sprang up and ran toward the alley. More explosive bangs came from the street. Doran rounded the corner and grabbed her hand, running with her through the alley and into an alcove of the building next to her work.
“Are those gunshots?” she whispered.
“I think so.”
“What is…”
He covered her mouth, listening to the sounds on the street. He pulled her further into the darkness of the alcove, pulling a gun from his waistband with his free hand. Pounding footsteps raced past them as more gunshots rang through the air. Sirens erupted from all directions, creating a chorus with the screams and pounding footsteps. She closed her eyes and wished to be anywhere but there.
“Are you okay?” he asked very softly. “You’re shaking.”
“I don’t know,” she whispered back.
“It’s okay. I’m here with you.”
Tears started to crawl up her throat as she closed her eyes tighter. Her limbs trembled, her mind raced – she wanted her mother. She needed her mom to hold her and tell her it would all be okay.
“Izzy, look at me.” She opened her eyes to look into his. “You can do this. You’re one of the strongest people I know. We have to get home, all right? Can you do that?”
She nodded. “I need to puke.”
“I guess you should’ve kept the bucket around.”
She rushed to the dumpster, crawled up on the lip to get more height, and vomited over the side. Doran stood in front of her, making a safety barrier with his body. He helped her down and rushed her to his car. He told her to get into the backseat and “stay down” as he put a blanket over her.
She felt like she was floating in a dangerous dream above her own body – her life in complete chaos and nothing making sense.
“I want you to stay in the car while I check out the house, okay?” he said as he parked. “Stay out of view, do you understand me?”
“Just go. I need to not be talked to right now.”
“Izzy, you can’t imagine just how much I…”
“I am going to lose my shit, Doran.”
He chuckled, “Okay, okay. I’ll leave you alone. Just stay out of sight.”
She folded her hands over her chest and pretended to be dead. Death might be okay. It’d be better than this.
“This is a mess,” she said to herself softly as she wiped her eyes. “What did I get myself into?”
Suddenly, the car door opened and the blanket was ripped from her face. Isadora screamed as her life flashed before her eyes.
Chapter 6
“Don’t scream,” Doran hissed, standing above her with the serious look from his yearbook picture. “Let’s get inside. It’s safer there.”
“I thought you were a killer,” she responded.
“You’re not wrong,” he smiled. “They say I’m a killer in the sack.”
“I don’t know who says that.”
“Come on, we need to get inside.”
She rose, taking the blanket with her for some kind of protection. He raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. They turned a corner, her home a bit up the block.
“Why’d you park so far away?” she asked.
“So they didn’t know we’re there. If the car’s parked out front, they’ll know.”
“Don’t you think they’ll see us walking up?”
“Well, you are being very inconspicuous with that blanket wrapped around you.”
“I’m asking a legitimate question, jerk.”
“We’ll go through the back. I don’t think they’re after us anyway.”
“Who were they shooting at then?”
“Let’s get inside first. Follow me.”
He weaved through one of the back yards of a neighbor without a fence. Somehow, he moved so quickly and naturally, no one seemed to notice. Of course, no one in her neighborhood seemed to notice anything other than themselves. Rich people.
“We’re going to climb the fences. Can you do that?” he asked. “I can help you.”
She only nodded, jumping on the fence and going over it. He followed until they finally made it to their home. He rushed her to the back sliding door, slipped inside, and locked it behind her.
“I cased the house, and no one’s here,” he whispered. “Be careful though.”
“Where’s my dad?” she asked.
“They got out of town until all of this blows over.”
“They just left town?! Why didn’t they take me?”
“Your dad thinks you’ll be okay, I guess.”
“All right, what is going on? I was just minding my own business, leaving work…”
“Carrying a puke bucket…”
“Carrying a puke bucket and when suddenlywe were shot at.”
“They weren’t shooting at us.”
“Then who were they shooting at?”
“Vinnie Gorello and his goons. They were at the restaurant across the street.”
“I don’t know who that is.”
“He was a business associate of the Rosellis. A real shady character.”
“Okay, so the Rosellis are the Italian mafia then?”
“I think we should go upstairs. I don’t want them to see us in the windows.”
“You are avoiding the question.”
“I am not avoiding the question, Isadora. I just want to get upstairs where it’s safer, and I’ll answer any question you have.” She stood her ground, keeping her mouth paper thin and her eyes narrowed. “I know you have your mean face on, but it’s really hard to take you seriously with that blanket wrapped around you.”
“It’s my armor.”
“Yeah, okay.”
She sighed and gestured for him to go ahead of her. He smirked, leading her upstairs to the master bedroom and the huge walk-in closet. He went to one of the walls and felt along the corner, his fingers exploring the surface.
“What are you doing?” she asked crossly.
“Shh,” he responded.
He found a little nick in the dry wall and pressed against it. The wa
ll slid open, revealing another room. She looked at him, astonished.
“I’m good with my hands, as you know,” he grinned with a cocky shrug.
She rolled her eyes and moved into the room. “How did you know about this?”
“I saw your dad in here once. I was hoping to take some money from their secret stash.”
“Naturally.”
The room was small, but cozy enough – a small loveseat sat against the opposite wall along with boxes and some clothes hung up. It looked like an extension of the closet with storage built into the walls filled with boxes and cans of food. It reminded her of some kind of rustic bomb shelter – a perfect hiding place from destruction.
She ran her hands over the dresses hung up. “These are my mom’s. I always wondered what happened to her wedding dress.”
“I guess he didn’t want to get rid of them, but didn’t want to tell my mom about it,” Doran shrugged. “Do you want me to answer your question now?”
She smelled the dresses, “They still smell like her.”
He watched her for a moment as she hugged the white lace dress, taking in its scent. He sighed, pulling a cord hanging from the ceiling to turn on a small light bulb and closed the wall. She didn’t notice, wrapped up in the memory of her mother’s perfume. She turned to the boxes, finding other mementos.
“It’s the photo album my mom made before she died,” Isadora said softly, pulling out the artifact and sitting on the couch. “I thought he got rid of this.”
Doran walked forward and sat down next to her as she opened the album. “Is that your mom?”
She touched a photo of her and Gaea together. “Yeah. This was my kindergarten graduation. She wore her favorite floral dress.”
“You look a lot like her.”
“I know.” She smiled, turning each page carefully and cherishing every shot. “Sometimes, I know my dad sees her when he looks at me, and he gets sad.”
“I think he really loved her.”
“Yeah,” she paused, looking up at him. “So, what’s going on, Doran?”
He sighed, “It’s kind of complicated. Do you know a lot about your mother’s family?” She shook her head. “Well, there are two powerful Italian families in the city: the Rosellis (as you know) and the Libericcis. Your mother was a Libericci, and your father was a Roselli.”
“Your mom told me about my dad. I didn’t know that about my mom – she told me they stopped talking to her when she got pregnant with me.”
“I think they just wanted to protect her. Your dad wasn’t the oldest son, so they kind of made an arrangement with the Rosellis that they both stay out of it so your parents could live.”
“Where do you come into it?”
“Well, as you may know, I’m not related to you.”
That’s good news for the baby. “I have heard that.”
“My mom met my dad when visiting Ireland with her family. She thought he was a great guy – seemed successful, charismatic, strong family. She married him, had me, and then realized he was involved with some not-so-legal business.”
“So, he’s in the Irish mob?”
“Kind of. He’s one of the younger brothers himself of a powerful family. But he’s such a fuckup that he doesn’t mean anything.”
“Okay. And you?”
“My mom married a Roselli unknowingly. Her sisters introduced her because they knew. Your dad didn’t know her past relationship. You’re kind of like this mob princess, so I guess they hoped we’d get together.”
“So, you slept with me to answer that call?”
“No, no. I didn’t know about it all either. I came back from Ireland when Dad tried to pawn me off on one of his sisters, and lived with Mom. I thought Dad was dangerous and cool, so I chose him in the divorce. ThenI wanted to do something more meaningful with my life.”
“The military?”
He looked into her eyes, something sweet in them, “I have to be honest, you were so beautiful, and I was so in…” he sighed, tearing his eyes away from her. “I wanted to prove myself as more than just the punk kid of a disowned thug.”
She felt guilt rising from her stomach. At second thought, she realized it might be more vomit, but she took deep breaths to keep it at bay. “I was a teenager then. I thought I would somehow marry Leo DiCaprio still. You didn’t have to prove yourself to me. Plus, you went into the Navy SEALs. Doesn’t that mean you killed a bunch of people?”
He nodded, “I killed more than a few.”
“Did you… do work for your family too?”
He raised an eyebrow, “Did I do work for the Irish mob? Why would you think that?”
“It’s kind of strange Roselli’sblew up the morning after we were there, Doran.”
He laughed derisively, “That’s different.”
“How?”
He leaned in, looking her straight in the eye with harshness this time, “Anything I did for the mafia was to protect you, do you understand? I might have done some untoward things while with the SEALs, but it was only to protect you.”
“What does that even mean?”
“The Rosellis did something that made the main mob family in Sicily very angry,” he held her shoulders, his eyes intensely locking her into place. “I tried to do damage control, but… it was no use.”
“So, you killed them?”
“No. I tried to warn them, but the hitmen were already there.”
A loud noise came from downstairs. A meow came from the other side of the wall.
“Tess! We need to let Tess in!” Isadora ran to the wall, trying to figure out how to open it.
“We aren’t risking our safety for your cat,” he answered.
The cat meowed again. Isadora rushed to him. “That cat is like my kid. Let her in.”
“You didn’t think to let her in here, so I doubt she’s like your kid.”
“I will disembowel you.”
“That sounds kinky.”
“Doran!”
He sighed and went to the wall, opening it slowly. The cat rushed in and jumped into Isadora’s arms. He closed the wall and listened as more noises came from down the stairs. This time, the bangs and crashes came closer.
“Thank you,” she said softly, hugging the cat.
“Anything,” he answered.
He took off his shoes and moved forward. They stood face to face, the cat only between them. He pet the animal in her arms before they both looked up in unison. Another crash came closer to them; he pulled the cord just above him to turn off the light. His eyes didn’t leave hers, even in the darkness. She felt completely alone with him, even with Tess in her arms and some kind of intruder invading the house.
He put his hand on her face and leaned forward, his lips dangerously close. She closed her eyes, tingles radiating through her body as he came closer. With a foreign person pressing against her, Tess jumped out of Isadora’s arms, scratching her in the process. She almost cried out, but bit her lip. He chuckled softly.
CRASH! The door of the closet outside their hiding place slammed open and someone bombarded in. Doran moved carefully toward the wall, pulling his gun from his waistband. She grabbed a metal bat leaning against the couch. They prepared for an infiltration, both deathly quiet.
“Meow,” the cat apologized, rubbing against Isadora’s legs.
Isadora dropped to the ground, trying to hold the cat’s mouth.
“I will shoot that cat,” Doran whispered.
“I will beat your head in,” she replied.
“What was that?” a gruff voice asked loudly outside the room.
“Be quiet, idiot,” another, more weasel-like voice snapped. “We don’t want them to hear us.”
Isadora and Doran shared a look. Not like they hadn’t heard already.
“I heard something coming from there,” the gruff voice continued.
“From the wall? You hear something inside the wall?”
“Well, isn’t the Roselli guy an architect? Maybe he built a
hiding place into the wall.”
“Yeah, and maybe he’s a wizard.”
Gun shots blasted through the wall, making Doran jump out of the way. The cat scattered, knocking over something in a clatter.
“What are you doing, you idiot!” the weasel yelped.
“I heard something!”
“They’re not in the wall. Come on.”
Footsteps stomped out of the closet and further away from them. Isadora crawled forward to Doran on the ground, checking him over with her hands. His breathing sounded heavier than usual, as if he were hurt. He took her hand, dragging it along his body. She thought he might be guiding her to a wound, but her hand moved lower and lower until it got to his waist. Her hand darted back and punched him in the arm. He chuckled softly, slowly rolling over and rising to his knees.
“I’m going out there,” he told her quietly.
“Don’t do that,” she responded. “We can wait it out.”
“I don’t want to wait it out. I want this done.”
“Doran, that’s stupid.”
He crawled toward her. She got onto her knees and crawled toward him. In the darkness, they reached out for each other.
“If anything happens to me, I need you to know that I have loved you from the first day we met,” he took her face in his hands and touched his nose to hers. “You told me I looked like a ‘low-end, ginger James Dean,’ and I knew you were different than other girls.”
“I’m sorry I wasn’t nice to you after we… you know,” she felt herself blush. He chuckled. “I like to alienate myself from others so I can’t get hurt.”
“I took it a little hard, but my dad said if I really wanted something, I had to fight for it. So I came back.”
“You can’t go out there.”
“Why not?”
Before she could reply, another gunshot rang through the wall from the other side (her room.) They both dropped to the ground, the cat again crashing around the room in fear.
“Why shouldn’t I go?” he whispered, the intruders now screaming at each other. She paused, nerves and terror bubbling into a brew inside her. “Do you want to make a romantic confession?”
“I’m pregnant,” she whispered flatly.
The room went completely quiet (with the background of the intruders yelling slicing through the silence.) The cat even seemed to stop skittering around the room.
