*
When we pull up to Mom’s house, I jump out of the car and rush up the front stairs. I hadn’t realized how much I missed her until that moment. Mom comes out onto the porch, and catches me with a warm hug.
“Em, I’m so happy to see you. I was so worried.” She pulls back from the hug and looks me over. “So, that was a surprise trip. How was San Francisco? Are you okay?”
I don’t know what the fuck to say. I just stand there, frozen, like a statue. Mom narrows her eyes and repeats, more seriously, “Are you okay?”
I hear the car door slamming me behind. It snaps me out of my daze.
“I’m fine, Mom,” I say to her. “I’m not alone. I’ve brought someone with me.”
Mom’s panicked eyes dart past me to Bruno standing by the car. This is it, I think. She’s going to freak out. She’s going to pull me inside and call the cops. I’ll never see Bruno again. Mom’s face is neutral as she takes Bruno in, then, surprisingly, she dons a friendly smile.
“Welcome,” she says, in a voice I don’t recognize. She gestures for Bruno to walk up the porch, which he does. Mom gives him a hearty handshake. “I’m Minnie, Olivia’s mother. What’s your name?”
Bruno clears his throat. “Phil.”
“Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Phil.”
I feel like I’m in the Twilight Zone. Who is this woman?
“How do you and Olivia know each other?” Mom asks, looking between the two of us.
“School,” Bruno and I say in unison.
“Lovely, lovely,” Mom says. “Please, come inside. I’ll make us some tea.”
We follow her inside. I’m in a confused daze. Why isn’t Mom freaking out? Why hasn’t she cooked up some far fetched conspiracy about who Bruno is? In this situation, her anxiety laced delusions would be right on the money. Maybe she’s happy to see me with a guy, a big, strong one at that who could protect me at all times.
We sit at the small table by the window while Mom pours us tea. The chair, which is regular sized, can barely accommodate Bruno’s huge form. It’s absurd having him here. My captor, my lover, my enemy, having tea with my mother and me.
“Did you have a nice trip?” Mom asks, bringing over a plate of cookies.
“It was great,” I lie. “It was good to get away, to see somewhere new.”
“I’m sure it was,” Mom says. “It must’ve been good for you.”
She’s lying. She didn’t like the thought of me traveling to San Francisco. Every text she’s sent has been asking when I’d be back, or flat out begging for me to come back.
“Were you there too, Phil?” Mom asks.
Bruno doesn’t recognize his fake name at first. When he does, he straightens his back.
“No, no, I wasn’t. I picked Olivia up from the airport, and gave her a ride here.”
Mom nods over her cup of tea. “You sound like a good friend.”
“I, um, try to be,” Bruno says.
He’s uncomfortable. He keeps looking towards the door, like he’s dying to get out of here. Mom, on the other hand, is as calm as I’ve ever seen her. She’s pleasant, charming, even. As for myself, I’m a steaming pile of doubt and confusion. Should I keep up the charade? Or should I stand up and shout the truth, that I’m being held captive by this man? I’m hesitant to do that. Sure, I’ve gotten to know Bruno. I’ve seen through the layers of rock he hides behind, but I can’t forget who he is. He’s in the mafia. He’s pledged his loyalty to criminals, to killers. He’s dangerous. If backed into a corner, he just might strike.
We have a bit more small talk. I talk about seeing the Golden Gate Bridge, the twisted Lombard street, and riding a trolley, things that only exist in my imagination. If Mom only knew the truth, that Bruno took me while I was unconscious, held me against my will, that we’d had a sexual relationship, and now he plans to give me to my long lost father, she wouldn’t be so calm and composed.
After about forty-five minutes, Bruno checks his watch.
“We better be going,” he says. “Remember, Olivia. We have that thing.”
“Of course, the thing,” I say. The trade.
“Yes, I know you’re busy,” Mom says. It’s odd. She never lets me leave that easily. “Thanks for coming by, baby. And Phil, so nice to meet you. Don’t be a stranger.”
Bruno stands from his chair, clearly in a rush. “I won’t, I won’t. Nice to meet you too.”
So this is how it will be, I think. I’ve tasted freedom, just a tiny sip of it. Now, I’m going back, where things will go from bad to worse.
Mom walks us to the door. She wishes Bruno goodbye, then grabs my hand, looking directly into my eyes.
The signal, I remember, with a rush of clarity.
Bruno is at the bottom of the porch stairs, waiting for me impatiently. Mom stares into my eyes imploringly. I’m not sure what to do at first. If I squeeze her hand, I could be sending Bruno to his death. Or, he could take both of us to give to Vince. I look into her eyes, the same eyes I see every time I look in the mirror. She’s my mother. She’ll help me. She’ll know what to do. I squeeze her hand.
One, two, three.
Mom doesn’t betray the panic on her face, but I know it’s there. She drops my hand.
“Could you two hold on just a sec?” she asks. “There’s something I need to show you.”
“Sure, Mom,” I say.
“Yeah, yeah, sure,” Bruno says, looking towards the car.
Mom’s not gone for long. When she returns to the front door, she’s holding a snub nose .38 and a badass look on her face. She points the gun at Bruno. His entire body tenses. He looks desperately at me.
“Olivia,” she barks. “Get inside.”
The whole situation is surreal. My legs move slowly, like I’m in a dream. I run back into the house, cowering behind my gun wielding mother.
“You,” Mom growls at Bruno. “Get the fuck away from this house. And tell your friends that if they want to come find me, I eagerly await their visit.”
Mom cocks the gun. The noise thuds deep into my chest.
Bruno raises his arms in the air. His face is red. Veins protrude from the sides of his neck. “Olivia,” he says, stepping forward.
“Get back,” Mom warns. “I swear to God, I’ll shoot you where you stand.”
My heart pounds in my chest as I watch Bruno. What’s he going to do? Is he going to rush her? Is Mom really going to shoot him? Bruno lowers his arms, then looks right at me.
“Goodbye, Olivia.”
I feel like I’m going to pass out. I stumble back on my feet, but catch myself before falling.
“I’m sorry, Bruno,” I yell from the door. But he’s already walking away.
Chapter Twenty
Olivia
Mom slams the door shut. We collapse against each other, sinking onto the floor, becoming a heap of tears and hugs. I can feel the gun pressing into my back as she embraces me. What has my life become? I don’t recognize it anymore.
“Oh, sweetie,” Mom coos, stroking my hair. “Oh my baby. I hoped this day wouldn’t come.”
I dry the tears from my face. “You knew,” I mutter, shaking my head. “You knew.”
“Shhh,” Mom says, drawing me into her chest. “Don’t worry. You’re safe now.”
Safe? Am I? Will I ever be safe again? Bruno knows where I am, and he has ample motivation to tell his mafia friends. They’ll come for us. I grab Mom’s arms, feeling deranged.
“We have to go,” I say, desperately. “Let’s get the fuck out of here.”
Mom cups my chin, and smiles warmly. How the hell is she so calm?
“I’m not running anymore, baby,” Mom says. “I’ve had enough of that.” She holds the gun to her chest, stroking the barrel.
I laugh at her. “You think you’ll stop them with that?”
Mom’s smile deepens. She takes my hand, helping me stand, then leads me down the hallway. We stop in front of the closet next her bathroom, the one she always told me
not to open because it was such a mess, that the contents would spill out and crush me. She withdraws a key from her sleeve, and opens the door.
“Holy fuck,” I gulp.
There’s so much metal in the closet I can smell it, and taste it. Guns of all makes, models and sizes are displayed neatly on the shelves. Huge boxes of ammo sit on the floor. My mouth gapes as I take it all in.
“I’m ready for them,” Mom says in a quiet voice. “I have been for a long time.”
My head is spinning. This isn’t real. It can’t be. Am I hallucinating? Mom puts her arm around my shoulder.
“You need to rest now. Let me draw you a bath.”
I sniffle against her, nodding. That does sound good.
*
A thick layer of bubbles sits on the surface of the warm water. I put my mouth under and blow. Bubbles float into the air. I watch them bounce above me, then slowly descend. I’m comfortable now, warm and relaxed. I can’t think straight, but I’d rather not. I’m infested with worry. It inhabits every crevice of my being. I can’t see a way forward that doesn’t end in certain death.
And when I think of him, Bruno, I think my body will melt in despair. It hurts me, physically, to picture his face, to conjure the memory of his hard body pressed against mine. I should hate him. Why do I miss him? Why am I scared for him?
Mom knocks lightly on the door, then enters, carrying a stack of folded towels under her arm.
“Can I get you anything?” she asks.
I stare into the shimmering bubbles, blowing idly, and ignore her question. Mom puts the towels in the cabinet under the sink, then looks at me and sighs.
“You knew,” I say. “You lied to me for so long. You never told me about Dad.” Dad. I cringe at the word. I’ve never used it in this context before. My dad is alive and well. My dad is a mafia boss.
Mom wipes her hands nervously on the front of her pants, then sits on the toilet lid.
“I was trying to protect you, Em,” Mom says.
“Emma.” I rise up from under the bubbles and stare at her. “That’s my name.”
“Yes.” Her eyes grow wet, and she looks to the side. “That’s the name I gave you when you were born. Would you like me to call you that?”
“No.” I sink back under the bubbles.
Mom approaches the tub, crouches down, and reaches into the soapy water to grab my hand.
“That man, did he hurt you?”
“No.”
“Okay, good,” Mom says. Her eyes flit over my face cautiously. “Did he-“
Rape me. She can’t even say the words. I’m not sure what the answer is. Each time Bruno and I had sex, I wanted it, God, I wanted it. But I was his captive. Did I really have a choice? Was I brainwashed in some way? Still, it didn’t feel like rape.
“No.”
“Oh thank God.” Mom brings a trembling hand to her forehead. A few tears escape her eyes.
“Why did you leave him?” I ask.
Mom sits back on her knees, drying her eyes. “I lived in fear of him every day of our marriage. There were many times when I thought I was about to die at his hand. Once, he filled up the bathtub, and made me knell beside it. He made a game of dunking my head under, and holding me there until I almost blacked out. He’d pull me out. I’d gasp for air, and he’d dunk me under again.”
I’m suddenly claustrophobic in this tub. I wrap my arms around myself under the water. “Why did he do that?”
“I can’t remember. He always had some reason, something I’d done. Burned his dinner, misplaced something of his, or maybe I smiled at another man. I spent every waking minute walking on eggshells, trying not to make him mad. I was trying to survive. Then you came along. I loved you so much, from the first moment I saw you, and I still do. I knew I couldn’t raise you in that environment. You gave me the courage to get out.
“Your father is a very powerful man. I knew the police wouldn’t help me. The only option was to disappear, and so I did. But I always knew he’d find me eventually.” She blinks at me. I can almost hear her heart breaking. “Or he’d find you.”
I sit up abruptly, sloshing water onto the floor, and not giving a fuck about my nakedness. I clutch the sides of the tub. “We have to leave, Mom. We can’t just sit here.”
Mom caresses my cheek, making a tsk noise with her tongue. “I’ve already done that once, Olivia. I’m not running again, only to bide my time until he finds us. And you have your school.”
“Fuck school,” I yell. “Let’s drive to Canada. Or Mexico.”
Mom is unmovable. I feel like I’m talking to a brick wall.
“Don’t say that,” she says. “You’ve worked so hard. You’re so talented. You have no idea how proud of you I am.” She leans forward, and kisses me gently on the forehead. “Don’t worry, honey. If they come here, and they will, I’m going to kill them. All of them.”
Her eyes are so calm, so crystal clear, it’s disconcerting. I sink back into the water, wondering if I’m not the only one who’s lost their mind.
*
Bruno
The apartment is dark. I don’t bother to turn any lights on. I’m standing in Olivia’s room, drinking a beer, the last of the six pack I bought after leaving Minnie’s house, and staring at the crumpled sheets on her bed. She’s gone. I feel her absence. She’s left a void, a hungry black hole that sucks every last drop of my energy.
I grab the pillow from the bed, and bring to my nose, inhaling deeply. Her faint scent still lingers there, but it won’t be long before that’s gone too.
I didn’t have to let her go. I could’ve rushed Minnie, wrestled the gun from her hand before she had a chance to shoot, but I didn’t. I made a choice, there on that porch, that Olivia would be free from all this, and effectively signed my own death warrant.
I’ll never see her again.
With a growl, I throw the half empty beer bottle and watch it smash against the wall into tiny pieces. I’m not the only one who will go down. Anthony will too. And the Mariano’s won’t forget this betrayal. I know, more than anyone, how tightly they hang on to a grudge. How did I let it come to this? How did I turn into my father?
At least Olivia is safe, for now. I don’t have any doubts that someone will track her down- Sal, Snake, or Vince himself. I stand to my feet, swaying drunkenly, and pull my phone from my pocket. I scroll through my contact list, and find Olivia’s number. In my hurry earlier, I hadn’t thought to confiscate Olivia’s phone again. I think, subconsciously, I let her keep it because deep down I knew this was the end. I hope she still has it on her.
*
Olivia
It’s late. I’m exhausted, drained, and totally spent. I’m lying in the bed in Mom’s guest room in a futile attempt to get to sleep. My mind won’t shut off and allow me to rest. I’m still grappling with everything I’ve learned.
My entire life, I’ve defined myself in one way, a regular, bookish person with a slightly crazy mother, but now I find out I’ve been entirely wrong. I rub my temples, making myself focus on the present. Mom’s gone all Annie Oakley on me, and refuses to leave. I also refuse to leave her on her own, since scary mobsters will soon come here looking for both of us.
Let me get this straight, I think, sardonically. My father is a sociopathic murderer, and my mom is a gun nut who’s looking forward to committing mass murder.
I have to laugh at that, because if I don’t, I’ll cry. And I’m tired of crying. I bury my face in my hands, shaking with laughter.
So, I know the truth about my parents. What does that make me? I have no idea.
I hear a ding. At first, I don’t know what it is. I’m not used to having free access to my phone. I’d slipped it into my pocket before leaving Bruno’s apartment, and thankfully, he never asked for it back. I rummage through the pile of clothes on the floor until I find it. It’s probably Erin, or one of my faculty advisors wondering where the hell I’ve been. I swipe open the screen, and my heart almost jumps out of my chest.
It’s Bruno. I don’t recognize the number, but I know it’s him.
You and your mom need to go somewhere far away.
A new swirl of emotion engulfs me. I never expected to hear from him again. I thought for sure Bruno would give me up as soon as he could. But he’s telling me to leave. He wants to protect me. I sit on the floor, clutching my phone, reading the text over and over again. It takes me almost an hour to decide whether to respond or not, and what to say. Finally, I text him back.
What will happen to you?
Bubbles pop up. He’s typing. I watch those bubbles like it’s my only lifeline.
I’m sorry for everything. You didn’t deserve this.
There are more bubbles. They stop, then start, then stop again before the text comes through.
Get on a plane. Go to another country. Never come back.
More bubbles. I’m a mess as I watch them, heart pounding, palms sweating. I want to jump through the phone and touch him, feel his arms around me.
But the text never comes. I get a notification, saying the number is now unavailable. Bruno blocked me.
I sink back on my knees. They’re going to kill him. Bruno is a dead man. That’s how starkly black and white the mafia world is. When you’re in their good graces, you’re flying high. When you’re not, they won’t stop until you’re dead.
Tears seep from my eyes. Bruno sacrificed himself for me. He could’ve easily overtaken Mom earlier, but he let me go. And now he’s trying to protect me.
That means-
That means the feelings I had for him, the feelings we shared, weren’t the result of me going crazy in captivity. They were real. I’ve never felt like that about anyone in my life, and now it’s been snatched from me. There’s nothing I can do.
I can’t stand the thought of climbing back into bed, so I walk out into the living room. There, I find Mom. She’s in her nightgown by the window, a shotgun propped between her knees. She turns to me with a wicked smile.
Through all of this uncertainty, I find one truth. I’m not running. I’ll stay with Mom and help her fight. And maybe, just maybe, Bruno and I can get out of this alive. I go to the kitchen and pour us both a glass of wine, then pull up another chair by the window, joining Mom in her vigil.
Beware the Beast (Mafia Soldiers Book 2) Page 12
