The worst is when I dream about her. It always seems so real. She comes to me wearing one of my white T-shirts, making her look like an angel. And then I wake up, and reality sets in.
Olivia hasn’t left the city. She’s close by. I still have the tracking link Sal sent me. Olivia hasn’t removed the device on the bottom of her car. I know where she is at all times. It kills me that she’s so close, and I can’t see her. I think about following her sometimes, just to get a glimpse of her. But I can’t put her in that kind of danger. If my enemies discovered how much she means to me, they’ll use her against me.
No, I stay where I am, in the same apartment that’s owned by the Mariano’s. I don’t know who will come for me first; the Lombardi’s, the Mariano’s, or even the police. Whoever it is, I’ll face the consequences like a man.
I lay low, staying away from the concrete shop and the known mafia hangouts. I don’t even go the doctor for my broken fingers. Using an online tutorial, I fashion a sling out of ripped fabric and wire hangers. I only take medication that can be bought over the counter. Sometimes, my sling shifts while I’m sleeping, and I wake up to my own painful howling. Slowly but surely, my hand is healing, though I think my fingers are going to end up a bit crooked. It’s probably the end of my fighting career, for which I’m glad.
My fucked hand isn’t the worst part. It’s this crippling paranoia. I know what’s coming, and I’ve accepted that. I just don’t know when. Any minute, any second, the door could be kicked down. Sometimes I wish they’d hurry up and come, so I can get it over with. After I’m put down, I won’t be in any more pain.
I spend a lot of time thinking about my father. Is this how he felt before he died? The rage I’ve felt towards him for so long has shifted into respect. He saw through the Mariano bullshit. He did what he thought he had to do to save his family.
I keep a box of old Motor Trend magazines, but I’m no gear head. They’re a decoy, a hiding place for a possession that I shouldn’t have. In one of the issues, in the middle of the magazine, I keep a picture of my mother and father on their wedding day. If the Mariano’s ever found out I had this after denouncing my father for so long, they’d never trust me.
Usually at night, when I’m halfway into a six-pack, I take out that picture. My father was a big man, just like me. In the photo, he’s smiling like crazy, clutching my mom’s waist. My parents loved each other deeply. I have memories of them laughing together, flirting, exchanging quick kisses in the kitchen, but I’d suppressed them in order to continue hating my dad.
One night, I’m staring at the picture, and decide I don’t want to hide it anymore. I search through the apartment until I find a frame. I put the framed picture on the side table in the living room. If the Mariano’s come to kill me, I hope they see it.
It’s a foggy, dreary day when Snake knocks on my door. I let him in, wondering if he’s been sent to execute me. It would be right up Franco’s alley. He could test Snake’s loyalty, and put me down all at the same time.
Snake looks nervous. He keeps fidgeting with his collar.
“Franco wants to see us,” Snake says. “Come on. Let’s go.”
“What’s this about?”
Snake shakes his head. “I don’t know.”
I stare at him harder. He looks me in the eye.
“I swear. I have no idea what this is about.”
*
We’ve been summoned to Franco’s home in Bel-Air. I’ve only ever seen pictures of it before. Snake has to stop at the gate, and announce who he is through the intercom. There’s a buzz, and the gate opens, revealing an Italianate mansion with a circle drive surrounding a water fountain. The lawn is impeccably landscaped. When we pull up to the front of the house, a man in a suit takes Snake’s keys, and parks the car for us.
This is a strange place to die, I think as we make our way up the marble steps.
In the foyer that’s decorate with expensive Italian art, a woman in a maid uniform greets us. She leads us deeper into the house to a room with windows on all sides. Men in suits drink dark liquor while relaxing on leather furniture. It’s a who’s who of the Mariano family. The underboss is here, nearly every capo, and, of course, Franco himself.
“Come on in,” Franco says when he sees us. He gestures to the well-stocked display of liquor. “What do you boys drink?”
“Bourbon,” Snake says. “One ice cube.”
“Excellent,” Franco says, then turns to me. “How about you?”
“Water,” I grumble.
Franco grimaces slightly, then smooths over his expression. “Of course.”
Everyone else sits on one side of the room. Franco pours our drinks, then offers us a seat on the other side. All eyes are on us. It feels like we’re on trial. But this isn’t a court of law. We don’t have any rights.
Franco stays standing. “I’m happy to report that Anthony is doing much better. Those assholes busted his kneecap. After several weeks of physical therapy, he’s able to walk without a limp.”
“That’s good to hear, boss,” Snake says.
Franco nods. “I know you boys would like to hear that. I appreciate everything both of you did to get him back safely.”
“Of course,” Snake says. I stay silent.
Franco continues. “It’s time we discussed the trouble that happened during the trade.”
I lean forward, planting my elbows on my knees. “That was all my doing. Snake had nothing to do with it.”
Franco narrows his eyes. “Is that so?”
“Yes,” I say, before Snake can speak. “I took it upon myself to take out Vince. I knew Snake wouldn’t let me do it, so I didn’t bring it up with him.”
Snake shifts beside me, and takes a nervous sip of his bourbon.
“And why did you show such initiative, Bruno?” Franco asks.
I can’t mention Olivia. I can’t have them going after her. I tighten my jaw.
“Because Anthony’s my brother. I couldn’t let them get away with that.”
“Very admirable.” Franco folds his hands behind his back. “However, you acted without orders from your capo or myself. That’s not the way we do things here.”
“With all due respect, sir, he’s not my capo, and you’re not my boss. I’m not a made man. I’m just an everyday citizen.”
Franco cocks his head at me. “Would you like for me to tell the cops you’re not one of us? That you’re responsible for the murder of Vince Lombardi, and the attempted murder of Johnny Lorenzo, who’s currently in a body cast, wrapped up like a mummy and eating through a straw?”
My shoulders relax. The kid didn’t die. I’ve thought about him often over the last few weeks. I thought for sure he was dead. Snake drains the rest of his liquor.
“Are the Lombardi’s going to strike back?” Snake asks.
Franco studies his nails. “We don’t need to worry about them. They’re too busy fighting among themselves. Vince’s death created a power vacuum. Every Lombardi capo and the underboss are struggling to gain control. I suspect their organization will topple soon, and the Mariano’s will be able to seize their territory.” He turns to me. “To be fair, kid, you did a big favor for the family. But going behind my back, that makes me look bad. It undermines my authority. Don’t ever do it again.”
Again. Does that mean I’m getting out of here alive? I nod furiously, then take a long drink of water.
Franco straightens his suit, taking on an official looking posture. “With that said, I have to inform you that the Mariano family is no longer interested in working with you as an associate.”
I squint at him. Heat fills my body. Now that I’m convinced they won’t kill me, I can’t control my tongue.
“I’m not surprised,” I say. “I do all the heavy lifting, and get discarded as usual.”
Snake shoots me a warning look, then turns to Franco. “I’m sure Bruno didn’t mean that. Did you, Bruno?”
Franco smiles. “I believe you misunderstood me. We wa
nt you as a soldier, son. We’re opening the books just for you.”
The capos sitting behind Franco all look in my direction, nodding and smiling, like they’ve done me some huge fucking favor. I can’t tell them that I don’t want to be a Mariano anymore, that they can take their book and shove it up their ass. That’s not an option. Franco walks up and offers me his hand.
“Thank you,” I say, shaking it.
As we walk down the marble stairs outside of Franco’s house, Snake pats me heartily on the back.
“You did it man,” he says. “I didn’t think it was possible.”
I smile and nod, not hinting at the fact that I’m stewing inside. I’ll have to continue to work for the men who killed my father. There’s no other way. At least when I’m made, Olivia and I will be safe.
While waiting for the valet to bring the car, I get a text.
“Who’s that?” Snake asks.
“Nobody,” I say.
But it’s not ‘nobody.’ It’s from Sal’s burner phone. The text reads, Congratulations, soldier.
*
It takes a few days for the relief to set in. After so many weeks of fear, I’ve finally accepted that no one’s coming for me. The Lombardi’s are a mess. I’m going to be made, meaning I’m untouchable. The cops aren’t coming for me either. I’m sure Franco straightened things out with them.
That means, I don’t have to keep my distance from Olivia like I’m a leper.
One Saturday morning, Olivia’s tracking link says she’s at the UCLA campus. I know why. It’s the day of her PhD graduation.
The ceremony is held in a huge, indoor coliseum. I arrive just as it’s beginning and find a seat far away in the nosebleed seats. There are fifty or so graduates seated on the coliseum floor. I scan them quickly, and find Olivia. Every cell in my body lights up when I spot the long, dark, silky hair that spills over the blue graduation robe. She sits up straight, her hands in her lap while she watches the speaker onstage. Every now and then, she scans the crowd hopefully. Is she looking for me?
I’m here, I try to tell her telepathically. And I’m so proud of you.
This woman is fresh off of the most traumatic experience of her life. She managed to finish her dissertation and graduate even with all the time she lost while locked away. I couldn’t be more impressed. She’s one of the strongest people I’ve ever met.
And she’s beautiful too. I can see her brown eyes sparkling even from this distance. This should be a happy day for her, but she doesn’t look happy. My stomach churns. Has she been suffering these past few weeks, just like I have?
I clap loudly when she walks across the stage, and they place a weird looking hood over her head. Her face is magnified on a big screen television. She smiles, a real smile, when they announce her as Dr. Olivia Presley.
After Olivia walks, I slip outside the coliseum. There’s a stand out there selling flowers to give to graduates. I buy a bouquet of yellow daisies.
About an hour later, the space outside of the coliseum begins to fill with people. The ceremony is over. Graduates and their families chat happily and take pictures. I circle the crowd, looking for Olivia. As I crane my neck, peering into the throng of people, I feel a sharp pinch on the back of my arm. I whirl around, hoping it’s Olivia.
“Hello, Minnie,” I say, trying not to sound disappointed.
Minnie looks good. There’s still some bruising on her face, but it’s pale yellow and healing. She raises her eyebrow at me.
“What are you doing here?” she asks.
I clutch the bouquet of flowers at my chest. “I came to congratulate Olivia.”
“Uh-huh, really,” Minnie says. She crosses her arms over her chest. “I thought you were too dangerous to be around. Aren’t you a ticking time bomb?”
I shake my head. “Not anymore. It turns out, the Mariano’s were happy I squeezed your husband. Go figure.”
Minnie lowers her voice. “I’m happy too. Sometimes when I need a mental boost, I conjure that moment.” She smiles deeply. I can tell she’s picturing it now. She looks at me with concern in her eyes. “So, you’re going to be okay?”
I straighten my back. “I am. I’m made now. That means-“
Minnie raises her hand. “I know what that means. I’m no stranger to the mob, remember?”
“Right,” I say with a laugh.
She places her hand on my arm. “I know how hard of a life it is. It’s not one I ever wanted for my daughter. But I don’t think I can keep her away from you. She’s been absolutely heartsick these past few weeks.” She squeezes my arm. “Promise me. You’ll take care of her, won’t you?”
“I promise.”
“And I don’t just mean protect her from other mobsters,” Minnie says, seriously. “Protect her from yourself. Don’t let the darkness of your job infect your mind. Don’t start thinking you’re a god. That’s what happened to Vince. The power destroyed him.”
I take Minnie’s hand in my mine. “I promise.” I make this promise to both her, and myself. I can see how life in the mob can make you evil. Before all this, I was tightly wound with anger, and completely desensitized to violence. Olivia changed all that. She changed the entire course of my life for the better.
Minnie nods, seeming satisfied, then looks past my shoulder. “Look who it is.”
I turn around quickly. There she is, standing a few yards away. Olivia. She’s frozen in place, her mouth gaping open as she stares at me. My skin pricks up with the desire to touch her. She’s more beautiful than I remembered.
Olivia looks around, frightened. I walk up to her quickly, and tangle my fingers in her hair.
“It’s okay,” I say. “We’re safe.”
She looks up at me with dreamy eyes. “Bruno,” she murmurs.
My stomach clenches with desire. How many times have I dreamed of her saying my name?
She blinks, looking me up and down, like she’s not sure if I’m really here. Her mouth spreads into a smile. “You’re alive. I thought they were going to-“
I press my forehead against hers. “They didn’t kill me. And the won’t. Olivia, it’s over. We can be together.”
I tip her head up, then lightly press my lips against hers. The warmth that flows through my body is overwhelming. I want to rip off that robe and take her, right here and now.
But there’s no rush. Due to the intense circumstances, our relationship had progressed rapidly. Now we have time to slow down. Maybe even start over.
I pull back from her, offering her the flowers.
“Dr. Presley,” I say. “I’d like to ask you out on a date.”
Olivia nods gleefully, taking the flowers from me. “Dr. Presley accepts,” she says, before jumping into my arms.
Epilogue
I’m hunched over my computer, scowling at the screen, trying to find the right words to finish the article I’m writing. Bruno bought me this desk when I moved into his apartment, along with a placard that says Dr. Olivia Presley in gold lettering.
That’s right, I’m back in Bruno’s apartment, the same place I was held captive months ago. I’m even wearing Bruno’s T-shirt. I have to laugh when I think about how absurd it is, but there’s no other place I’d rather be. And his big, roomy shirts are comfortable.
But we won’t be here for long. Bruno’s a soldier now, and he’s making a lot more money. And the Mariano’s need this apartment to house other associates who are coming up the ranks. We’re moving to a newer, bigger apartment next month. We need the space, but I’m going to miss this place. I’ll even miss Rick from downstairs. Though I give him the side-eye every time I see him, his sandwiches are delicious, and I always eat on the house.
Now that Bruno’s a Mariano soldier, he’s always busy. I don’t ask him what he does all day. I don’t want to know. From the little I’ve seen, I know how stressful and dangerous his job can be. I can see it written on his face when he comes home in the evenings. But he bears it well. I have nothing but admiration for him.
Though his job is stressful, a lot of the anger he had before has melted away. I suspect it has to do with him learning the truth about his father. He’s even started talking to his mother again. I’m going to meet her for the first time next week when we tell her our news.
I squint back at the screen, watching the flashing cursor, and telling myself to concentrate. Before I can get back to work, I hear Bruno come home. Happy for the distraction, I go greet him at the door.
He looks so handsome in the dark suit that’s the Mariano’s dress code. I jump into his arms, covering his face in kisses.
“Easy,” he says, setting me down on my feet. He rubs my stomach with his warm hand. “How are we feeling today?”
“Fine. A little distracted,” I sigh.
“I think that’s normal.” Bruno kisses the side of my neck while his hands clutch at my waist. “You should lie down, take a little break.”
“A break,” I say, coyly. “That’s what you want?”
Bruno’s lips spread into a smile. “All you have to do is lie back. I’ll take care of you.”
“Mmmm,” I murmur, pressing my lips against his. My lower body floods with warmth. “I really need to finish this article.”
Bruno’s hands travel down to cup my ass. I get the feeling he’s not going to let me get back to work. “What’s it about?”
I take a deep breath, trying to quell the desire that’s growing inside of me. “Examining the Bodyguard Hypothesis in the Modern Age.”
Bruno sweeps my hair to one side, and kisses my shoulder, making his way across my collarbone. “Sounds interesting.”
I swat his arm, playfully. “Liar.”
Bruno grabs a handful of my hair, tugging slightly so I look up at him. He leans in, parting my lips with his tongue. I shudder at the taste of him. I’ve never been any good at telling him ‘no.’ He lifts the T-shirt, revealing the soft roundness of my belly where our baby is growing.
We hadn’t meant to get pregnant. It just happened. At first, I freaked out. I worried that having a child would stall my career. But as my belly grew, along with my appetite, and with Bruno so sweetly taking care of me, I realized, there’s no rush. There’s more to life than work. There are these simple moments filled with sweetness, like Bruno lightly rubbing my stomach and giving me those bedroom eyes, that make my life happy. Once the baby is here, we’ll get married. I want a small, simple ceremony with just family and close friends. But there’s no rush on that either. Bruno is mine. I’m his. We don’t need a piece of paper to tell us that.
Beware the Beast (Mafia Soldiers Book 2) Page 16
