by Hamel, B. B.
“Hey, wake up.”
I jolted upright with a gasp, my heart hammering in my chest. I was covered in sweat as I remembered him again, the gun pressed in my face, the way his entire body tensed. The certain knowledge that I was about to die, that a man was going to murder me in my own apartment, that my whole life was going to end and I would be dead and gone.
“Get the fuck away from me,” I said, panicking, kicking my legs out. I struggled to get away from him, my survival instincts taking over.
“Hey, it’s okay, it’s me.”
I blinked, the dream slowly fading and reality taking its place. Liam sat on the coffee table in front of me, looking incredibly beautiful, but haggard and concerned. I stopped thrashing, taking deep breaths to calm myself.
“It was just a dream,” he said softly, hands out to steady me.
“Sorry,” I mumbled, slowly sitting up.
My whole body throbbed, and the panic and fear from my dream lingered in my mind.
He nodded, his face a mask of worry. “You hungry?”
I nodded.
“You eat eggs?”
I nodded again, still trying to equalize myself.
“Okay. I’ll make you some.” He got up and walked into the kitchen.
I looked around the room, the confusion and disorientation slowly slipping away. It was the same sparse living room I had fallen asleep in: completely alien, and more than a little disquieting. But, apparently, it was safe.
I heard the sound of pots and pans banging and the refrigerator door opening and closing. I guessed Liam had gone to the store while he was gone. I stood and followed him into the kitchen. He cracked some eggs into a pot, cut off a knob of butter, and dropped it in with the eggs. I sat down on a chair and crossed my legs underneath me.
“I hope you don’t mind scrambled,” he said.
“That’s fine.”
He turned on the stove and placed the pot on a burner and began to gently whisk the eggs with a spatula.
“Where did you go?” I asked.
“Had some things to take care of.”
He took the pot off the heat and kept stirring it, working the eggs together with the butter. After a second of stirring, he put the eggs back on the heat, still stirring.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“Making you eggs.”
He continued to cook, moving the eggs on and off the heat, stirring continuously. I watched him and felt awed at how sure of himself he seemed. I was impressed and surprised. I never expected a man like him to know what he was doing in the kitchen, but he clearly did. I stared at his body and his movements as he continued, and I decided to wait to ask him questions. There was something special about the way he handled himself, something I didn’t want to interrupt. In some weird way, it was calming me down.
Finally, he finished with the eggs. He pulled a thick piece of toast from the toaster, put it on a plate, poured the eggs onto the toast, and placed the plate in front of me with a fork and a knife.
He sat down at the table across from me and nodded at the food.
I picked up the fork and gingerly took a small bite of the eggs. The consistency was strange, velvety and creamy, but they were incredibly delicious, rich and thick and perfect. I immediately tucked into them, cutting into the lightly toasted sourdough bread with my knife and scooping up the eggs on top of it. Liam grinned at me, but I didn’t care. I was starving, and having some food in my stomach made my dizzy head begin to stabilize. I realized I needed something in me if I was going to be able to think straight.
Liam stood and walked across the room. He poured himself a mug of coffee from an old drip brewer. He leaned back against the counter and sipped it black as I finished my food.
“I guess we should talk,” he said.
I nodded at him. “What’s going on?”
His expression was pained as he stared at me for half a second.
“That man in your apartment, his name was Max. He works for my boss, or at least my old boss, Colm Brennan. We’re all Right members of the Irish Mob.”
I gaped at him. The rumors about Liam turned out to be true. I had always assumed they were crap, since he was such a good guy to his younger brother, and figured it was just the way he looked that made everyone think he was a mobster. But there he was, confirming everything.
“What did he want with me?” I felt shaky and on the verge of panicking again, but I willed myself to remain in control.
“A few nights ago, did you see some guys dumping something into the river?”
I nodded. “One of them even chased me, trying to get me to stop and talk to him.”
“It’s a good thing you didn’t. Those packages were bodies.”
I shook my head. “That doesn’t make sense. They were square.”
He stared at me for a second and sighed. “They weren’t whole bodies.”
That confirmed my suspicions. I felt bile rise in the back of my throat. I swallowed hard and gripped the edge of my seat, willing myself not to get sick.
“In the last few weeks,” he continued, “the Mob has been going through some chaotic shit. There was a coup, and our long-time leader and boss disappeared. After he was gone, someone had to take control of the Right People, and there was a lot of violence and fighting. Colm Brennan eventually took over, because Colm is one of the most violent pieces of shit I’ve ever come across.
“Chaos plus a violent boss always equals a lot of bodies, and you stumbled on some guys dumping those bodies. It’s not nice, but it’s the truth. It’s usually guys in the game who step out of line, guys who are a little too ambitious or don’t want to play by the rules anymore. But it’s also other people who are unlucky enough to become targets, like junkies or some shit. Usually, we don’t kill people like you, civilians. If you had seen what you saw a year ago, they would have bribed you to keep your mouth shut, and if you talked, they would have bribed the cops to forget about it. Things worked that way for a long time.
“But Colm Brennan thinks the world is changing. Colm thinks in order to survive, we need to start killing innocent people. He doesn’t want to honor the peace we’ve made, the peace our fathers made.”
Liam looked disgusted and angry, and his fist gripped the coffee mug so hard that white pressed up along his knuckles. I stared at him, trying to process the story he was telling me, but it felt too fantastic. It was too much like some crazy action movie, and not at all anything like my real life.
“What does this have to do with you?”
Shame spread across his face and he looked away from me.
“Don’t hate me,” he said softly.
“What are you talking about?”
He looked back at me, the shame replaced by a determined hardness that took me by surprise.
“My father was an important boss in the gang back before Colm took over. Because of him, I got involved in the business and rose through the ranks. When my dad passed, I started taking over parts of his territory. But because of him, Colm didn’t trust me, and he thought I would be too loyal to the old guard. In order to prove myself, he told me that I had to kill you.”
The silence felt deep as I let that sink in. He looked grim, a frown spreading across his perfect lips, and I felt his words reverberate through my skin and my bones.
“But you didn’t,” I said, meeting his eyes.
He nodded. “I couldn’t.”
“Why?”
“There’s something . . .” he started to say, but stopped. He looked down at the linoleum tiles and sipped his coffee, and then looked back. “It wouldn’t have been right. I couldn’t do it.”
I nodded. “So they had that guy Max do it?”
“When you called the cops, it freaked Colm out. When he told me what they were doing, I got over as fast as I could. And you remember the rest. By the way, why did you call the cops?”
I explained the van to him and how terrified it had made me. I told him about the paranoia and how seeing
the van that night pushed me over the edge. He laughed softly.
“Those dumb fucks,” he said. “You weren’t ratting on them. You were just scared.”
“What’s going to happen now?”
“Now, we stay hidden.”
I made a face. “What about my job? What about—” Then it hit me, the thing I was forgetting. “Shit, I forgot about Petey!”
He looked confused for a second and nodded. “Your dog.”
“Please, we have to go back and get him. He must be so upset.”
“We can’t go back there, Ellie.”
“You can’t stop me, asshole.”
I stood up quickly and strode out into the living room, grim determination etched onto my face. I didn’t care if those people were going to try to kill me. They had already ruined my life. Everything was over for me; I might as well try to save Petey from starving to death in my bedroom.
Before I got too far, though, I heard Liam move up behind me and grab me by the hips, pulling my body against his. I struggled, but he wrapped his arms around me, holding me tightly. His body was hard and strong, all cut muscle and power.
“If you go there, you’re dead,” he grunted.
“I can’t leave Petey alone. He’ll starve,” I said, struggling.
He cursed softly but kept holding me. I stomped on his foot and he grunted in pain. He got a better handle on me and lifted me up off the ground easily, throwing me over his shoulder. I kicked and punched but it was like hitting brick. He carried me over to the couch and threw me down onto the cushions, following immediately to hold me there. As I struggled, I was amazed at how strong he was and how restrained he seemed. He could have easily hurt me if he had wanted to, and I wouldn’t have blamed him, but he was only being as forceful as he needed to be to keep me there.
“I’ll have someone take care of him,” he said, gritting his teeth.
“No. He has to come here.”
I slipped a hand free and pushed my palm against his face.
“Fuck, Ellie,” he grunted, slapping my arm away. I thrashed and screamed.
“Get the fuck off me, you psycho,” I said.
I thrashed harder, kicking my legs and yelling, but he didn’t react. His face remained passive and serious, and he continued to hold me down. Eventually, I had to calm down, and I slowly stopped fighting him, breathing deep. I felt exhausted, beaten down and defeated. First, that man tried to murder me, and now Liam wouldn’t even let me try to save my own dog. I was powerless, an absolute failure. More than that, I was a little unhinged, and I knew it. Liam didn’t do anything wrong, but there was something boiling up inside of me from the stress and the fear. I actually felt a little bit better after having struggled and burned off some energy.
“Listen to me,” he said softly.
“Go fuck yourself.” I felt my defiance begin to ebb, though.
“Gladly. But first, understand that the only thing keeping you alive right now is me. You want to see Petey again? You do what I say.”
I clenched my jaw and didn’t respond.
“Are you going to hit me again if I let you go?”
I shook my head.
“Fine.” He gingerly released me, and I sat up, adjusting myself.
He stood and walked across the room. “Do you know anyone in the area?”
I thought about it for a second. “My friend, Chelsea.”
“Will she take the dog?”
I nodded. I actually had no clue if she would or not, but she was probably my best bet for having someone watch over Petey.
“Fine, I’ll talk to her.”
I looked away from him, rage seething through my body. I couldn’t believe he would pin me down and let me yell and scream at him, hit him and grab at his face, and do nothing. I was pissed and defiant and confused and terrified, but also part of me was amazed at how hard he was trying to keep me safe.
“You can’t hold me here forever.”
“You’re right. I have a plan to fix this thing, but we need to lay low until I can figure it all out.”
I shook my head. “But I have work, I have responsibilities. I can’t just disappear.”
“You’ll take vacation time. Your friends and family will deal with you being gone. You’ll lie if you have to.”
I looked at him, and I could feel the tears welling up.
“They’ll fire me. My friends will worry.”
“You can’t work if you’re dead. They’ll feel worse at your funeral.”
That gave me pause. “This is insane, Liam,” I said softly, tears welling up.
He nodded, looking sad. “I know. I’m really sorry this happened to you.”
I looked away, not wanting to get sucked into his perfect face and serious eyes. I fought back the tears, getting myself under control. Crying wouldn’t help anything, and I didn’t want to show weakness in front of him. I had trouble hating him, even though part of me thought it was his fault that I was trapped in his safe house. I wanted to scream and claw out his eyes, but I knew that wouldn’t help anything. I was torn up inside.
And I was trapped. I was trapped in a nightmare with a man I barely knew. There were people out in the world that wanted to see me dead, and they were willing to murder me in my own apartment. And there I was, pissed at the only person in the whole world who was willing to give up everything to save me.
“Those eggs were amazing,” I said after a brief silence.
He grinned at me. “I know.”
Chapter Thirteen: Liam
We talked for another few hours, and eventually she agreed not to leave the house, at least for another day. She was stubborn and difficult and wild, but I could see the fear in her eyes. I could practically smell it, rolling from her body in waves.
If she weren’t afraid, I would have been even more worried.
Fuck, there was something about her that kept sticking in my brain. At first, I thought it was just because she was so sexy and innocent looking, with perfect lips and hips I wanted to grab and hold on to. Staring at her outside of Richie’s school, I thought I’d never met anyone so perfect and gorgeous. I wanted to rip off her blouse and explore every inch of her smooth skin, to burrow my face between her legs and breathe her smell in deep. But there was so much more to her than I could have realized at first. Any other civilian would have broken down into a ball of tears, but not Ellie. She was way stronger than I could have imagined, and although she was still trying to make stupid choices, she was so incredibly beautiful in her defiance. Despite the fear, she was desperately trying to hold on to herself.
And she was going to need that strength. I had no idea what was going to happen in the coming days or weeks, but I knew it was going to be difficult.
Worse, it may be bloody.
I felt the wind move through my hair as I navigated south, heading out of my territory. I hated leaving Ellie alone, but it was important that I got out and started making contact with a few people, started pushing my plan forward. The longer I waited, the longer Colm had to consolidate his power. Worse, he could even find my safe house, though I really doubted it. My father had taught me well, and I didn’t take any shortcuts in setting the thing up.
I was exhausted, and the sun was low in the sky, but I pushed myself forward. I felt responsible, somehow, for what was happening to Ellie. If only I had backed someone other than Colm early on, or if I had been able to talk him out of wanting to kill her, or if I had taken her into hiding the night before, then maybe I could have avoided everything. Or at least the worst of it. At least I could have avoided Ellie getting a gun shoved in her face.
At least her friend seemed nice enough. Chelsea had agreed to take on Petey, though I wasn’t sure she bought my story about taking Ellie on a spontaneous vacation. I didn’t blame her; it was pure and unfiltered bullshit, and she must have known it, but she reluctantly agreed. I didn’t let Ellie talk to her, mainly because I didn’t trust cellphones anywhere near the safe house, even if it was a burner paid f
or in cash. But still, at least that problem seemed to be solved for the time being.
I made a left, pulling onto Passyunk Ave, and continued south. I was crossing into the territory that pushed up against my own southern borders. It was one of the largest turfs in the entire city, nearly twice the size of my own, and that was saying a lot. The man who controlled it, Boss O’Brian, was an old friend of my father’s and one of the biggest of Colm’s rivals. I didn’t know what he had heard about Ellie, but if I was going to make anything happen, I needed to try to get him on my side.
I parked my car, killed the engine, and took a deep breath. It was very possible that I was walking into a trap. It was very possible that Colm had gotten to O’Brian already, maybe offered him a territory bump or some cash in return for killing me. Just because the man was a friend of my father’s didn’t mean he was going to automatically help and protect me. I glanced at the gun sitting on the seat next to me and sighed. I opened the glove box and shoved it in there, making sure the safety was on. I couldn’t risk going in there armed.
The evening was cool as I stepped out of my car and began walking toward O’Brian’s pub. Most of the bosses ran at least a few businesses on their territory. It was an easy way to launder money and to maintain a front. When the drug cash came in, you just slipped it into the revenue stream of your businesses and fudged your books a bit to make it all look legit. The Mob had been doing it for many, many years, and our system had been more or less perfected.
More than that, though, we needed to appear like legitimate businessmen, even if everyone in the city knew that was bullshit. Life with the Right People was all about appearance. You had to maintain a tough front, could never look weak, or else people would take advantage of you. Success was all about overtaking and pushing out the weak, and although it was brutal and difficult, it was the way of life many of us had chosen.
Besides all that, it was nice to have a home base. Somewhere you could call your own. My place happened to be a working business in its own right, but still. O’Brian’s was one of the oldest spots in the whole city, passed down from his father’s father. It was practically a historic site.
