by Ws Greer
Then, just as suddenly as it started, the shooting stops, and I hear the sound of tires screeching as the SUV peels out and speeds away.
Alannah
There’s red and blue lights bouncing off the walls, and ambulance sirens sing a dreadful melody into the night sky. Three people were hit with stray bullets. One of them died. Stray bullets that were meant for Dominic.
I sit on the hood of his BMW, watching him as he talks to the police with disinclination written all over his face. I know he won’t tell them anything, but I also know he knows who did this. There’s no way a man like Dominic doesn’t know who his enemies are, but a man like him doesn’t tell the police anything. He settles it on his own, which scares me nearly as much as the bullets speeding over my head did.
I can’t explain what it felt like to be sitting across from him in a restaurant in one of his casinos, admiring his gorgeous face and alpha attitude, then to have it all snatched away in the blink of an eye as I’m thrown to the floor.
At first, I didn’t even know what was going on, but I didn’t have time to question it for long because there’s no confusing the sound of gunfire and shattering glass. I wanted to scream, but the air was knocked from my lungs as Dominic jumped on top of me. I know he was trying to protect me, and a part of me is thankful for that, but there’s another part that doesn’t give a shit. I could’ve been killed tonight simply because I was sitting in this restaurant with him. The question now is, well, now what?
After he’s finished talking to the police, I watch as he saunters over to me. Glass and dirt are on the shoulders of his fancy suit that I’m sure cost a fortune, and he locks eyes with me. There’s a level of pain in his gaze that wasn’t there before. He looks miserable as he stares at me, and I can see it in him—he’s worried about me, about what I’m going to say, about what I think. He’s nervous, and he should be.
“Are you okay?” he asks as he stands in front of me, that sad look still holding his face hostage.
“What do you think, Dominic?” I counter. “Our dinner was interrupted by gunfire. That’s not something that happens to me every day, so I’m sure you can guess if I’m okay or not.”
His shoulders slump like my attitude has confirmed his fears.
“I don’t really know what to say,” he begins again. “I’m sorry all this happened. You just got here, and . . . I’m just so sorry, Alannah. I mean that. I’m sorry.”
“What is it that you’re sorry for, exactly? Are you sorry that I almost got shot just by being with you tonight? Are you sorry about the man who actually was killed by one of the bullets meant for you? I mean, seriously. What are you so sorry for?”
“All of it. I didn’t know this shit was gonna happen, and I didn’t expect it, so there was no way to prepare for it. I’m sorry you were put in danger, and I’m sorry innocent people got hurt. I’m sorry for all of it.”
“If the people who were shot tonight were innocent, then what does that make you?”
With every word I speak and every word I hear, I feel myself getting more and more upset. I can still hear the sound of the gunshots, I can still smell the gunpowder, I can still hear the screams and the sound of my own pounding heartbeat, and I’m still afraid.
Dominic’s eyes shift downward as he finds more comfort in looking at the street than he does looking at me.
“I don’t know what you want me to say,” he replies, his voice somber.
“I told you I didn’t want any drama in my life. Look around Dominic, this is pretty much the epitome of drama.”
“I don’t know what you want me to say,” he repeats, this time less somber. Angrier.
“Tell me what the fuck is going on!” I snap. “You know who did this, don’t you? I don’t expect you to tell the police because I know you, but I expect you to at least tell me. I think I deserve to know why I almost died tonight.”
Dominic looks like he’s teetering on the edge, but he holds his frustration back and sits on the hood of the car next to me. He puts his hands in his pockets and takes a deep breath. I see his shoulders relax like he’s ready to spill his guts.
“I don’t know for sure who pulled the trigger tonight, but I have a pretty good idea who sent the guy to pull the trigger,” he starts, still looking at the street. He has my full attention. “I’m in the middle of a bit of a business deal with a guy who owns a hotel; the same hotel you were about to check into when you first got here.”
“Lumiere Place?”
“Yeah. When I saw you that day, I was just leaving from a business meeting with the owner of that hotel. The meeting didn’t go well. I wanna buy it, but the guy doesn’t wanna sell, which is a problem for me and my associates. So, I sent a guy to visit one of his friends a few days back, which probably didn’t sit too well with him. I thought he’d fold up and sell the Lumiere to me, but it looks like I might have pissed him off enough to try to put a hit out on me. And I’m certain about it because I don’t have beef with anybody else, not for a long time now. So, I’m sure it’s the guy from Lumiere.”
I take a moment to soak in all the information. It’s a lot, and it doesn’t make me feel any better. I shouldn’t be surprised about it either. He’s in the mafia; of course he has this kind of shit going on, and there’s probably more to it than what he’s telling me, too. Of course. What did I expect? What the fuck was I thinking believing I could come back here and live some fairy tale life with a mob figure without it being dangerous? Only an idiot would think that, and I’d been even dumber to believe that what happened tonight is going to be the end of it all.
“So, what’s next, Dominic?” I ask, although I’m afraid of the answer. “Now that this guy has tried to have you killed, what are you gonna do about it?”
“I don’t know,” he whispers.
“Don’t lie to me. I’m not dumb, okay? I told you I learned all about this, so I know you’re not gonna just sit back and let this slide. So, are you gonna kill him?”
Dominic’s head snaps up as he looks around to see how close the cops and paramedics are.
“Would you keep your fucking voice down, please?” he snips, still whispering. “I don’t know what I’m gonna do. Right now, all I’m thinking about is you. You’re what I’m concerned about right now, that’s all. I want to make sure you’re okay, then I’ll take time to think about what I need to do”
“Well, you don’t have to waste your time thinking about me. I survived the attempt on your life, now I just wanna go.”
“Alannah.”
“Please, just take me back to my room, Dominic!” I yell as my emotions get the best of me.
Dominic’s head snaps up again, but this time it’s for good reason. A cop has heard me and is staring us down. He squints as he eyes us, then he turns and walks our way.
My heart is back on fast forward as the young policeman approaches us with suspicion on his hairless face. Dominic doesn’t say a word as the cop never takes his eyes off us, stopping only a few feet away with his hand resting on his holster.
“Is everything alright over here?” he asks, glaring at Dominic before looking to me. “Are you okay, ma’am?”
Dominic puts his head down and awaits my answer. I suddenly feel powerful, like I have his life in my hands at this very moment. I could tell this officer everything right now and Dominic could do nothing to stop me. I could settle his beef for him by telling and sending the cops over to Lumiere Place to question the owner. I could help their investigation and probably do a lot to protect Dominic from whatever else is going to come from all of this.
But if I did that, I’d lose Dominic forever. He’d never be okay with me cooperating with the police. He’d never look at me the same, and no matter how angry I am with him, it’d be a lie to say I didn’t care about that. I do care about that. I do care about him.
“Everything’s fine, Officer,” I snip just as I get up and walk around to the passenger door.
“Are you sure, Miss?” the cop double-checks,
still eyeing Dominic.
“Yes, I’m sure. If there was a problem, I would’ve told you when you interviewed me earlier, but like I told you then, I don’t know anything. It’s been a long night, and I want to go home. So, Dominic, please take me home.” I dismiss the officer with a wave of my hand, then get in the car and close the door, making sure not to make eye contact with the cop again.
Dominic doesn’t waste a second. He ignores the cop’s glare and gets in the car, starting it up immediately and driving away from the scene.
The ride back to River City is silent. I know he has questions and is probably in his head just as I am right now, but neither of us speak. He parks the car in the garage and we walk to the elevator together. When we reach my floor, I get out without saying a word, but he stops me.
“Alannah, please don’t go like this, alright? I know you’re pissed, and you have every right to be, but you just came back to me.” He suddenly stops talking and looks down at the floor before clearing his throat and looking up again. “I mean, you just got back. You just got back, and I don’t want it to end like this.”
I don’t want it to end like this either, but maybe it has to. Maybe it doesn’t matter what we want anymore. Maybe the idea of being with Dominic is better than the reality, because in reality, gangsters are dangerous people who hurt and get hurt. The bad boy persona is undoubtedly appealing and attractive as much as it is terrifying and dangerous. Maybe I was too blind to see that before. Maybe I was wrong all along.
“Good night, Dominic,” I reply. Then I turn on my heel and walk away. I hear the elevator close behind me as I open the door to my suite, step over the threshold, and slam it shut with every muscle in my body.
I spend the next few hours crying into my pillow, until sleep finally shows up to comfort me.
Dominic
“Did I, or did I not, specifically ask you if there was shit going on that I needed to know about? If my fucking memory serves me correctly, I asked all of you if there was beef in the streets that I needed to know about, and every one of you said to me that everything was good to go. You even said Bellisimo, or some corny shit like that. But today I learn that one of my captains has a contract on his head, put on by some wannabe Russian mafia cock sucker. So, you better start explaining what the fuck you’ve got going on, and why the fuck you didn’t speak up when I asked about it.”
Frankie is genuinely pissed off. I guess I earned it by not telling him about Abram, but then again, I didn’t expect Abram to try to blow my fucking head off. I thought he’d rollover. I was wrong, almost dead wrong.
“I’m sorry, Frankie,” I begin as he sits down behind the desk in his home office. He fastens the string on his robe and glares at me as I try to explain. “I was trying to wrap up this deal to buy the Lumiere casino from this Russian prick, and he didn’t wanna cooperate, so I sent Two Nines to send him a message a few days back. I guess Abram decided to get his fucking manicured hands dirty and retaliate. It’s my fault, but I’m gonna take care of it, Frankie.”
I go to sit down in the brown leather chair next to me, but Frankie isn’t having it.
“Don’t fucking sit down,” he snips in a low, angry whisper. His wife and two kids are asleep upstairs, so he’s trying to keep it down, but he’s struggling behind his anger. “I can’t believe you’re bringing this shit to my house in the middle of the fucking night. I expect better out of you, Dominic, you know that. You’ve been a part of Our Thing a long time, and you know how we do business, so I’m really fucking disappointed in how you went about this. What if that fucker would’ve got you? Have you thought about that? We wouldn’t have known shit, then how would we have hit back? This is unacceptable.”
I think to tell him I was trying to acquire Lumiere Place so we could go into business together, but it wouldn’t do me any good right now. He’s too pissed, so I keep it to myself and let him chastise me.
“Alright, now that everything’s finally on the table,” he continues, rubbing the length of the scar on his face. “Let’s talk about how we fix this. This guy put a hit out on you and tried to carry it out in fucking public. He had the balls to try to have you clipped in a restaurant in your own casino. You know how that makes us look?”
“I know, Frankie, we can’t let this shit slide, and I don’t plan to. Not to mention he almost got Alannah.”
Frankie’s forehead immediately grows tons of wrinkles.
“He almost got who?” he inquires.
“I was out with Alannah when they tried to make the hit. If I didn’t drag her to the floor with me, they would’ve hit her.”
“Alannah? Who the fuck is Alannah?”
“Alannah’s a girl I grew up with. We were at dinner.”
“The same Alannah you were always yapping to your dad about when you were a kid? The one who moved to Alaska or some shit?”
“Yeah.”
“She’s back now?”
“Yeah. She just got back a few days ago.”
“Ah, now I get it,” Frankie says, leaning back in his chair and shaking his head with disappointment. “You’ve never been one to be caught with your pants down, and now that your little girlfriend is back, you lose focus and almost get your fucking head blown off.”
Now it’s me who’s frowning.
“Wait, that ain’t how it is, Frankie,” I reassure him. “This didn’t have nothing to do with Alannah. I just didn’t expect Abram to put a fucking contract on my head. It’s not about Alannah being back.”
“Well, it better fucking not be, Dominic,” he snaps. “You’re my best earner, and I don’t wanna see something happen to you because you’re too busy thinking about some high school crush. You’re a made guy and the son of my best friend, God bless his soul, and I expect you to be boss of this family after my old ass is gone. So, you need to keep your fucking head on straight, and do what you’ve always done. Keep your mind on your money, and set this little thing with the Russian right. And you know what I mean when I say that, don’t you?”
“Of course I do.
“Good. This is a big mess you’ve made, now it’s on you to clean it up, because it’s not just about you now. This Russian tried to clip a made guy—when New York finds out about this, they’re gonna expect immediate consequences. So, you need to clean this up quickly, and brutally. An example needs to be made. You understand?”
I nod, thinking about how those bullets were only inches away from me.
Inches away from Alannah.
“I got it, Frankie,” I reply as I turn to leave. “I’ll let you know when it’s done.”
“What the fuck? Why are we just now hearing about this?” Charlie snaps as he takes his seat at the table in the conference room of River City. “You should’ve called us when it happened, and we would’ve hit back that same night. We don’t fucking lay down for shit like this.”
“I know we don’t, Charlie,” I try to explain. Charlie’s fired up though. They all are. “We’re not laying down. I just needed a minute to think, and I had to tell Frankie.”
“How’d that go?” Skinny Joe asks, with a grin that says he already knows.
“Just like you’d expect. He was pissed,” I admit. “Made sure to remind me how this makes us look as a family, which means he doesn’t want to look bad, and he doesn’t want New York to think he’s not handling business as acting boss. So, we’ve gotta fix this, quick.”
“You’re goddamn right we gotta fix it quick,” Joe snaps, his skin turning red as his temper flares. “You’re a fucking made guy, Dominic, and my captain. Nobody takes a fucking shot at you without getting clipped. No-fucking-body. So, now that Frankie knows everything, we find these cock suckers and we hit back. Hard. We make it public and out in the open so everybody in the streets knows you don’t come after one of our guys.”
As much as I’d like to tell Joe to calm down, I find myself being motivated by his energy. He’s right, the last thing any street guy would do is take a shot at a made man. It’s st
reet code, and everybody knows it, and when that code is broken, so is your fucking neck.
“Alright, so here’s what we’re gonna do,” I begin, once Joe sits back down. “Charlie, I want you track down this SUV for me. It was dark when it all happened, but I know it was black, and it had a big body, like a Denali or something like that.”
“Okay, Dominic,” Charlie says, pushing his glasses back up on his nose. “I’ll see what I can do.”
“What about Abram? He authorized the hit,” Tommy chimes in.
“I wanna wait on Abram,” I reply.
“What? Why would you wanna wait?” Tommy says, frowning.
“Because I wanna find the shooter first,” I answer. “I want the shooter first, and I want an example made of him so big that Abram can’t ignore it. I want him to know we’re coming for him so he has fucking nightmares about it until the day those nightmares come true. So, find the shooter, and when you do, sit on him. Don’t make a move until you call me. I wanna be there.”
“Wait, you sure that’s a good idea, Dominic? You don’t want your hands getting dirty with something like this,” Charlie advises.
“No, it is a good idea,” I snip. “That motherfucker had the balls to come to my casino and take a shot at me, and he almost hit Alannah. He’s gonna pay, and I’m gonna be there to watch it happen.”
“Who’s Alannah?” Skinny Joe inquires.
“Alannah’s a girl I was with when they tried to make the hit. Fucker almost shot her.”
The three of them look at each other like I just said something offensive.
“What the fuck are you looking like that for?” I ask, scrunching my forehead.
“Nothing, nothing,” Tommy answers for the group. “Just not used to you being out with no girls. You’ve always been focused on business. More of a one night stand kind of guy, not a dinner date guy.”
