by B. B. Hamel
“Okay,” I said.
He stepped inside past me, still smiling, and headed into the kitchen. I shut the door quickly and locked it behind him before following him in there, sitting down at the table.
“Please don’t tell Dante,” I said.
“I won’t.” He sat slowly across from me, letting out a small grunt as he finally landed. “I can tell why he likes you so much,” Pagano said.
“You knew about me already?”
“He came to me the other day. I put it all together.”
“He didn’t mention that.”
“Of course not. He’s in control here. He can’t let you know that he was looking for outside help.”
I shook my head, not sure what to make of this man. He was a total stranger to me, and Dante never mentioned him at all except as a passing figure in his life. I knew that Pagano was important to Dante, but I didn’t know that he was still involved with him. I wanted to believe that this old man was really harmless, but I knew better than that. He was a mobster above all else, so no matter how much of a cute old man he looked, he was still someone I should be worried about.
“Why are you here?” I asked him.
“I came to visit Dante and to check in on him. He seemed very conflicted when he spoke.”
“I guess you can see why.”
He smiled big. “I can. I might have been willing to go against the family for you, too.”
I couldn’t help but smile. “Well, thanks.”
“I’m not sure you can really understand what it means for Dante to go against the family, though, can you?”
“I guess not,” I said. “But then again, your family did kill my family, so I know something about loss.”
He nodded gravely. “I heard. I know who you are and I knew your father.”
“Are you going to tell me that my father was a bad man too?”
“We’re all bad men, dear. But no, I wasn’t going to say it, unless you need me to.”
“No. I’ve heard it enough.”
“Dante feels guilty. He’s a good man at heart, and he feels bad that he hurt you like that.”
I nodded, looking away. I hadn’t thought about it that way. It made sense that Dante wanted me to understand why my family had to be killed, not just for himself, but because he hated that he hurt me. He didn’t know me back then and as far as he knew, I was just some mafia princess that sanctioned everything my father did. He had no clue that I was totally in the dark on everything.
“What do we do now?” I asked Pagano.
He shook his head. “I genuinely don’t know. How far have things gone between you two?”
“I don’t know.”
“I’ll be honest with you. If it were up to me, I’d lock you back up and force Dante to forget all about you.”
I blinked, surprised by that. He said it with such a gentle, kind smile that the meaning of his words were almost lost.
“You think I should be a sex slave?”
“Not at all,” he said. “Don’t misunderstand me. I merely know that Dante is going to give everything up for you, and I wish that he didn’t have to.”
I frowned at him. “You care about Dante.”
“I do. I found him, trained him, and brought him up in the mafia. In some ways, he’s like a son to me.”
“Can you help him?”
He didn’t answer right away, just stared at me with a slight smile. If I didn’t know any better, I would have assumed that Pagano was just another kind old Italian grandfather. But the more he spoke the more I knew there was a killer lurking underneath that kind smile, and it gave me the creeps. I couldn’t let the dress shirt, slacks, and sweater vest disarm me. I had to remain ready, just in case this guy tried something.
“Maybe,” he said finally. “I don’t have much power or influence in the family anymore, not for years. I’m more of a consultant these days.” He laughed. “There aren’t a lot of old mafia men, you see.”
“So I’m finding out.”
“I know you’re angry about your family. I am sorry about them. But don’t hold them against Dante.”
“I don’t.”
“Good.”
“How do I know that you aren’t going to turn him in?”
“For what? Letting you out of your cage? That’s hardly a major offense.”
I kept my mouth shut. I didn’t want to tell him about Dante’s promise to save me if that wasn’t something Dante was telling him.
“But I understand what you’re saying. Gennaro can be a violent and nasty prick, if you’ll excuse my language. He probably wouldn’t be happy to know that you’re not getting regular beatings.”
“Sounds like a wonderful man.”
“This is the mafia. Our line of business doesn’t attract saints.”
“You still haven’t answered my question.”
His smile got bigger. “You’re perceptive. I can definitely see why he likes you.”
“Stop dodging.”
“Let me asking you something. Would you have turned in your father if you knew all the bad things he did?”
I was quiet for a second, mulling that over. “No,” I said finally. “I wouldn’t.”
“Like I said, Dante is something of a son to me. I never had a family myself, so I put a lot of time and energy into Dante. I wouldn’t rat on him just like you wouldn’t rat on your father.”
I nodded, feeling slightly better. I understood his line of thinking at least, and even though it wasn’t foolproof, he did seem to have some sense of honor.
“Let me ask you something now before I leave,” Pagano said.
“Okay.”
“Why are you still here?”
I looked down at the table. “I don’t know.”
“You’re not tied up. You’re not locked in. You could easily walk downstairs and leave. Hell, I bet you even know where he keeps his money, and I bet it’s a lot. You could take all of that money and disappear. Do you really think the mafia would come after you? They wouldn’t waste time on some silly girl like you. They have more important things to worry about.”
“That’s not what Dante said.”
“Maybe he’s right. Maybe I’m just an old fool that doesn’t know how the family operates anymore. But you still haven’t answered me yet. Why are you still here?”
“I’m still here for him,” I said, surprised by my own honesty.
“Good,” he said softly, smiling gently. “Very good. That was the answer I hoped for.” He stood up slowly. I went around the table to help him but he waved me off. Once he was up, he stretched his back and looked at me with that kind, gentle smile.
It gave me the creeps.
“Well, I’ll be going,” he said.
“Should I tell Dante you stopped by?”
“Oh, I’d say we should keep it a secret, but I’m sure you’ll tell him anyway.”
“Good point.” I walked him to the door and opened it for him. He paused on the threshold.
“One more thing, dear. If you do love Dante, and I think that you do, run away. Leave today and never look back. That boy might burn for you, and I’d rather he didn’t.”
I couldn’t respond. He nodded at me, turned, and walked slowly away. I watched him for a second before shutting the door behind him and retreating into the kitchen.
I sat down at the table and stared off into the distance, seeing nothing as my mind worked overtime. I thought about that conversation from beginning to end, picking over every word, trying to figure out what had just happened.
In the end, I came to one conclusion, the one thing that I couldn’t shake no matter how much I hated it. I figured he had said it just to put me off balance, maybe just to test me, but I couldn’t help but obsess over it.
Pagano was right. If I really cared about Dante, I would leave. If the mafia came after me, then they came after me and I’d die. But at least they wouldn’t come after Dante as well. He seemed to think they would, but I wasn’t so sure.
I c
ould run. It would be easy, or at least no harder than staying. I could try and disappear, and maybe even survive. Dante would have a life without me, a life not destroyed by my choices.
I sat in that kitchen, trying to decide if I should stay or if I should go, and the light slowly lengthened outside as time slipped past.
Chapter 18
Dante
Drago stopped the car outside of some fleabag motel. I hadn’t seen it before, but it felt like I had. Motels like this one all look alike with the awful brown styling and the crumbling signs. It clearly hadn’t been upgraded in a long time, and mostly the clientele were hookers and their Johns looking for a cheap place to fuck for a few hours.
It was a depressing place, but there were motels just like it all over the place. This one, the Neshaminy Inn, was outside of the city across the street from a brand new looking Wawa. Cars whizzed past out on the three-lane road while Drago put a cigarette in his mouth and lit it.
“What’s the deal with this one?” I asked him.
“Drugs, I think.”
“Meth?”
“Probably. Maybe heroin actually, I’m not sure. Used to be a normal guy too, apparently.”
“What put him in debt?”
“Gambling. And the drugs too, I guess, but it was the gambling that did him in.”
“How long since he last paid?”
“Couple months. Gennaro has been pretty nice to the guy, but we’re way past nice now.”
“I guess that’s why we’re here.”
“Exactly.”
“What’s the plan?”
“You play mister nice guy. If he doesn’t play along, we hurt him until he does.”
“Fine.” I opened the door and stepped out. “And quit fucking smoking while I’m in the car. At least lower a fucking window.”
Drago laughed, getting out of his side. “You worried about lung cancer suddenly?”
“I’m just sick of you blowing fucking smoke up my ass.”
He laughed again as I walked toward the building. It was a split-level motel with room entrances and exits on the outside.
“He’s in room 206,” Drago said, catching up.
“Of course. They’re always on the second floor.”
Drago grinned but said nothing
The second floor was a pain. Getting in and out fast was harder, since we were forced to take the stairwell, and if things got dicey we could be stuck up there. I’d been in a few scrapes that would have been much simpler on the first floor.
We climbed the rickety metal stairs and walked down to the sixth room. Drago stepped up and knocked loudly.
It was around noon so the place wasn’t too busy.
“You sure he’s in there?” I asked Drago.
“Pretty sure. Jimmy’s been watching the place and he says the guy is never out before two or so.” Drago knocked again, this time louder.
There was no sign of life.
“Open the fucking door, asshole,” Drago called out. “We’ll break it down if we have to, but I suspect management won’t like that shit.”
I leaned up against the railing, arms crossed, waiting. They always made us fucking wait.
He knocked again. “Last warning. You make me break this door down and this is going to be much, much harder on you.”
The door suddenly unlocked and opened a crack. “Who are you?” the guy asked.
He was probably in his early forties with thinning hair and brown eyes. He looked pretty normal actually, minus the glazed-over druggy look. Definitely heroin, if I had to guess.
“We’re here to talk,” I said. “Open up before my friend makes you.”
He stepped aside, letting us in. The room smelled like a fucking laundry basket and the place was a mess. He clearly hadn’t cleaned the place in days, maybe weeks, and had been holed up in there. Needles were prominently displayed on the dresser and empty beer cans were all over. The guy stepped over toward the bed, his arms crossed, wearing only a pair of boxer shorts and a thin white t-shirt.
“Stop,” I said. “Don’t move an inch.”
“Who are you guys?” he repeated.
“I’m Dante. This is Drago. We’re here to collect your debts.”
His eyes went a little wide. “No,” he said. “No, I can’t. I don’t have any money, man. I told you guys that.”
“Gennaro has been patient with you,” I said. “He has given you every opportunity. It’s time to pay.”
Drago stepped closer to the guy, smiling his vicious smile. The guy looked like a normal suburban dad and for a second, I almost felt sorry for him.
Then I remembered that he probably fucked his family over to become a lowlife druggie, and that feeling went away.
Drago started looking around the room.
“I told Gennaro, I don’t have anything. I got some money coming in soon and it’ll all go to you guys, I swear.”
“Listen to me,” I said, stepping close. “I’m impatient today, so I’m going to play it straight. My friend here is going to look around and if he finds anything worthwhile, he’ll take it. In the meantime, you’re going to tell me where to get some money, or else I’m going to start hurting you.”
Drago laughed. “What happened to playing the nice guy?” he asked me.
“Fuck it. This guy is annoying me already.” I looked back at him. “What’s your name, anyway?”
“Ted,” he said.
“Well, Ted. You have two minutes. Start talking.”
He stared at me, practically shaking, and I felt a particular loathing for him I hadn’t experienced in a while. I’d seen plenty of junky assholes in my day, but this guy was one of the worst ones. Most junkies never got their shit together enough to have a family and a life, but this guy probably did at one point. He threw it all away, fucked over his wife and kids, all for what?
For some smack and a fleabag motel. Piece of shit.
“I got a friend, a good friend. He’s got money and he said he’d lend me some. I just gotta do some work for him, you know? Just gotta do some work and I’ll get you money, lots of money. I swear it.”
I shook my head. “Wrong kind of talking, Ted.”
“I swear. I have nothing.”
“Bingo,” Drago said suddenly.
Ted groaned.
Drago came out of the bathroom holding a plastic bag. Inside was a wad of bills.
“Did you hide that in the toilet?” I asked Ted.
“No, man. I mean, not from you. From the maid. That’s all I got, man. I gotta eat.”
“You gotta shoot up, you mean,” I said.
Before he could respond, I punched him in the gut. He doubled over and I shoved him onto the floor. He crashed against the wall, groaning as I kicked him again.
“Piece of shit,” I said. “This is just the start. Hear me? Pay Gennaro or I’ll be back and I won’t be so nice.”
He nodded, eyes wide. Drago was already walking out the door, counting the money.
I stared at Ted and for a second, I wondered why I didn’t feel anything. Normally I’d be excited, my heart pounding as I got into the violence. Instead, I just felt nothing, like hurting this piece of shit just didn’t do it for me anymore.
Shit was changing all around me, and I was going to have to keep up.
I turned and left the room. Drago was waiting for me by the stairs. “Three grand,” he said. “Not bad.”
“Not bad,” I agreed, walking past him. We headed down to the car and got in together.
Drago prattled on about some shit, but I wasn’t in the mood. I was trying to understand what happened back there, but it just made no fucking sense. I was always the type to love my job, love kicking in assholes and fucking them up.
This time I felt nothing. I hated the prick, but I didn’t really feel anything when I beat him down. Maybe it was just because he was such a pathetic figure, or maybe it was something else.
My mind drifted back to Jodie, like it always did lately. She was so innocent, and
I knew that men like me would hurt her badly if they were given the chance. Maybe that was it, maybe Jodie was making me slowly turn my back on the life I knew so that I could start a new life with her.
I wasn’t even sure that was what she wanted. I knew she wanted to fuck me, give herself to me, but I didn’t know if it went beyond that. As far as I could tell, she saw me as the killer of her family but also as the only person that could save her from her situation. That made her like me, but it didn’t mean she wanted to be with me after I saved her.
The other thing bugging me was why I hated that guy. It wasn’t because he was a lowlife junky, although that was part of it of course. No, it was mostly because I assumed he left his family and destroyed the lives of his kids. I assumed he turned his back on his wife and kids, and to me that was a greater sin than being a drug addict and a gambler.
That thought never occurred to me before. Ted wasn’t the first family man that I saw destroyed by drugs, alcohol, pussy, and gambling. They were weak men, pitiable and pathetic, but I never hated them because of what they did to their families.
Now things were different. I was starting to see the world differently and I had no clue what that meant.
The only thing I knew for sure was that I wanted Jodie, and I couldn’t wait to get back to my apartment so I could feel her body against mine.
Chapter 19
Jodie
I spent the rest of the afternoon thinking about what Pagano said. Maybe I should have been worried about him going and telling Dante’s boss about what was going on, but I didn’t think he was that kind of man. Maybe I was being foolish, but I just didn’t get that impression from him.
He seemed like he really did have Dante’s best interests at heart, and he seemed to think that I went against those interests. I completely understood what he meant when he said that I should just run away, and part of me wanted to do it.
Dante had a hard enough life before me. Maybe he got somewhere now because of the mafia and hard work, but before that, things were rough. I grew up in a mafia family but I had no clue about any of that because I was protected and taken care of. Dante was the total opposite. He was thrown into the death and violence because his family didn’t support him at all. He was stronger for it and didn’t seem to have any regrets, but I could see that there was another man, locked deep inside of him. That man was good and would have been a normal person if it hadn’t been for his circumstances. He’d still be hard and gorgeous, but he might not be a killer.
