“You want a drink, Elle?” Tommy asks me from across the room. He gives me a smile as he takes a sip of his wine.
“Please,” I respond as normally as I can, given the situation and my nerves, and take a step closer to the table.
“Everyone, this is my girl Elle. Ma, no questions. Don’t scare her off.” Everyone laughs at Vince and I pretend to laugh also. But fuck me, my nerves are shot.
“I’m so happy to meet you dear,” Vince’s mother, Linda, says. “Dante has filled me in on how you two met.” I struggle to keep the smile plastered on my face. I’m certain there’s a hint of truth in whatever he’s told her.
“I’m a lucky girl,” I say back as sweetly as possible. I may be scared and intimidated, but I want them to like me. Is that so wrong? If they like me, then maybe Vince will trust me more. Maybe he won’t tie me up every single time he leaves the house. I wonder if I would leave though, if given the choice. Should I leave him? I’m not sure I would. Maybe I really am fucked up in the head.
“There’s no doubt in my mind that he’s the lucky one,” Dom says to my left as Vince pulls out a chair for me. I smooth out my dress and take a seat.
“So, what do you do, Elle?” Becca asks. The swell of her pregnant belly touches the table even though she’s leaning all the way back in her chair. I sure as fuck can’t answer that question. What do I do? I do your brother-in-law. That’s not an appropriate answer. Let's see, so far I’ve quit school, which essentially ended the career I’ve been busting my ass for years at. I don’t have a job, and I’m not sure I’m going to get one. I’ve been painting which I love, and Vince thinks I should sell online. But I’m nowhere near confident in my work to even think about showing it to anyone. Not yet. Maybe someday.
I decide to circumvent the question and change the subject. “Oh my goodness! You look beautiful. Congratulations, you two.” It’s easy to compliment her. She really is radiant with her swollen tummy. “When are you due?” I ask to continue pushing the conversation along.
“Two months.” Dom answers for Becca as he rubs her stomach. The look in his eyes is one of pure devotion. I find myself reaching for Vince’s hand. I wonder if he’ll look at me that way when I’m pregnant with his child. If. If I ever get pregnant with his child. Again, if I could run, maybe I would. I know I’m not pregnant now though. I just got my period before we came out for dinner. For some reason that hurts. Maybe I could justify staying with him if I was carrying his child, but I’m not.
“We’re all so excited for another baby in the family,” Linda says with a smile on her face. “Three grandbabies. I’d love a dozen of them!” Dante rolls his eyes, and Dom snorts.
“You'd better get on Clara and this one then,” Becca points at me, “because after our little girl, I’m getting Dom fixed.” The table roars with laughter, but my face heats with embarrassment and my fingers nervously tighten on Vince’s hand. It’s all too real.
“Damn, Becca, give them the chance to get to know one another before Vince has to knock her up,” Anthony says, and grins at the two of us. I’m trying to relax, but just being around them has my fight or flight instincts on high alert.
Vince wraps his arm around my shoulder and kisses my cheek. He whispers in my ear, “Relax, sweetheart.” His words instantly calm me. I close my eyes and take a deep breath. I don’t care if it’s sick. I can keep up this fantasy, whether it’s right or wrong.
The conversation continues as two waiters bring large bowls of chicken alfredo and spaghetti with meatballs to the table. Ah. Family style. Becca licks her lips and reaches for the bowls, but can’t quite get to them with her belly. I stifle a small laugh. It’s pretty adorable watching her struggle. Dom smacks her hands away playfully and dishes out a large helping of both entrees onto her plate.
Tommy and Anthony start talking about bets and making wagers with Dom. Dante cracks a joke, and the entire mood seems to lighten and flow naturally. Laughter and chatter fill the air.
I start to relax into my seat, and think I can actually eat without feeling sick to my stomach with worry. When the tension finally leaves my shoulders, and just as I start to think I can do this, I hear a loud bang. And another and another, as glass shatters and people scream. I feel the air whiz by my head. I hear it over and over--a mix of screams and bangs. It’s surreal.
Vince’s hurls his body in front of me and pushes me out of my chair. I land hard on my back with his body caging me in. I look to my left and see Becca screaming and crying. Dom’s holding and protecting her the same way as Vince is holding me. Tommy and Anthony are screaming at one another, but their voices are muffled. Each of them is down on one knee with their guns extended, propped up on the backs of the chairs for extra support. They’re firing. Some of the bangs and bullets are coming from them.
“Get her out of here! Get them out!” I can barely hear Vince screaming as he lifts up my body. The sound of tires screeching echoes in my ears, and strong arms pull me away from Vince. I find myself running, my heart beating out of control as adrenaline races through my veins. My feet trip on a fallen chair and I land hard on the ground.
Dom doesn’t give me a moment to right myself. Instead, he picks me up, tucking my body under his left arm, and carries me as though I weigh nothing.
“Vince!” I scream out as I see him jumping through the shattered large bay window. He doesn’t stop. He doesn’t hear me. He’s gone and I’m being carried away.
I look around me behind the restaurant. It’s a small alley. There are dumpsters at the end of it and the other side leads to the busy street. Dom is holding Becca, who’s crying hysterically. No one else is here. I’m alone. I hear him shushing her. I hear the ambulance and the sirens from the police cars.
Reality hits me in the face. I can run. I can get the fuck out of here and save myself. I turn to look over my shoulder and Dom is staring me down. His face is all hard edges and his eyes hold an edge of a threat. But I doubt he’d leave his crying, pregnant wife to chase me down. But then again, I wouldn’t get very far. I’m not a fast runner. I settle my back against the brick wall and sink down until my ass hits the pavement.
I feel far too sober. What the fuck am I doing? Who is this woman I’ve become? I wish Vince were here more than anything. I feel like that thought should be alarming to me. That it should send up red flags, but instead it offers me comfort. I’ll feel better once he comes to get me. My gut twists. He better come get me. He better not get hurt. I don’t know what I’d do without him.
The door to the right of me slams open, and Dante comes out. I rise to my feet and look behind him. Vince isn’t there. My heart races faster. What if something happened to him?
“He’ll be alright.” I jump at Dante’s words. He puts a hand on my shoulder, but I move away from him.
“This doesn’t happen,” I hear Becca say as she tries to calm her breathing. Her hand rests against her belly and she looks me in the eyes. “I don’t know how long you’ve been with Vince, but I promise you this is not normal.” She swallows and breathes in. She’s sitting in Dom’s lap and he’s rubbing her shoulders.
This is not normal.
“Let’s get you to the hospital, doll.” He stands and helps lifts her up.
“I’m fine. I’m fine,” she says, pushing him away. Dante walks closer to them, leaving me alone across the opposite side of the door.
“You should go to the hospital just to be sure. Get a look at my granddaughter and make sure everything's okay.” He gives her a reassuring smile and Dom whispers something in her ear.
I can’t handle this. I turn and walk to the door.
“I have to go to the bathroom.” They all turn to me and I wait for a response. No one says anything. Both men look at me like they aren’t sure I’m telling the truth. If I’m honest with myself, I’m not sure that I am.
“Make a right outside of the office,” Becca answers with her eyes closed. I nod my head once, and walk through the door with my eyes on the ground. The commo
tion in the dining hall makes me walk faster. I get to the bathroom, shutting the door behind me and the noises are muted. It’s quiet. I walk quickly to the faucet and turn it on. I take a moment to splash some cold water on my face, then run my wet hands down the back of my neck.
I breathe in and out. What am I doing? What am I going to do? I swallow thickly. I don’t know the answer to either question.
“Miss Hawthorne? Elle Hawthorne?” Hearing my name startles me and I turn around to face two women, each holding a badge out for me to see. It takes me a minute to realize what’s going on. Two cops. Blood drains from my face and my hands go numb. Fuck. Fuck, this cannot be good.
“Yes?” I ask weakly.
“You’re coming with us.”
Vince
My feet pound against the pavement, my eyes focused on the red Honda ahead of me. Multiple car doors open and slam shut, then the tires squeal as they peel out. Someone fires a gun out of their window as I duck into Tommy’s car.
He starts it and hits the gas. The tires spin, and my back presses against the seat as we take off after those fuckers.
They hit us on our home turf. With my mother there. My pregnant sister-in-law. My sweetheart on my arm. They’re going to fucking pay for this shit.
“Don’t lose 'em, Tommy!” I yell, leaning out of the window. I line up my gun and fire, aiming at the fucker in the passenger seat.
Bang! Bang! Bang! The third shot gets him. I see the asshole lean down in the seat and the driver turns the wheel but the motion is too sharp, and the car swerves into the intersection. They go over the lines and almost lose control of the car. We’re closer now.
Tommy hits the gas, trying to get closer. But there are so many fucking cars out this late at night. My heart slams in my chest. They could’ve got my girl. Adrenaline fills my veins.
I look up and see we’re closer. I need to get my head on right.
The driver keeps one hand on the steering wheel, then points his gun out of the window, spraying bullets. I duck behind the dash as a bullet hits the windshield. Tommy swerves, but stays on that fucker's ass. A car honks a warning, another to my right swerves to avoid us, and all hell breaks loose. A car behind us crashes into a parked car, and the traffic light turns red. Brakes squeal and my hands push against the dash.
Fuck! They speed through the intersection and several cars speed by us as they run the light. Tommy slams on the brakes, just barely avoiding a crash. Tires screech and the smell of burning rubber floods my lungs. My head slams down on the dash, and my palms push against the leather.
“Fuck!” I yell, slamming my fist into the dash. The cars finally start moving.
“Take me back. I need to get back to my girl,” I tell him, feeling sick to my stomach. The fact that those bastards got away from me pisses me off. But I know who they are. And they’re going to fucking die. Every last one of them.
Just as we park in front of the restaurant, my phone goes off.
“Vince.” Dom sounds somber and I don’t like his tone. My heartbeat slows and my vision seems to blur.
“Becca alright, Dom?” I ask first. I know my sweetheart’s okay. I stayed with her until those cowards took off. I close my eyes and pray his baby’s alright. I hate that I think the worst. But the way he said my name has my mind going crazy.
“She’s alright.”
“The baby?” I ask.
“She’s good too. Got a good view of her sucking her thumb right now.” I feel a little bit of relief at this. “Your girl...” He trails off, as if he's unsure how to say what comes next.
My heart skips a beat, and my lungs feel empty. That’s what he called about. Elle. My sweetheart. She’s okay. I know she is. She'd better be safe. I told him to take her. “What about her?”
“She’s been picked up.”
“No.” I shake my head. No fucking way.
“We tracked her phone, Vince. And it was on the cameras. Two undercovers, not ours.” I lean back against the side of the car. The sound of sirens is getting louder and louder, but I can't begin to process what that means.
“Vince, we gotta go!” Tommy's screaming in my ear, but his words barely register with me.
I look at him jumping in the driver’s side as Dom talks away in my ear. I don’t know what he’s saying, and I don’t care. I thought we had something. I thought she loved me. Loved what I did to her. Loved being mine.
The red and blue lights flash down the road ahead of us. They’ll be here soon.
I turn off my phone and put a hand over Tommy’s, stopping him from moving the car. We won’t make it. They’re gonna be here before we can get away. They’ll see us. It’ll be a chase. They don’t have anything on us right now. Questioning. It’s gotta be questioning about the shooting. It’s not my girl, I say over and over in my head. Not Elle. This isn’t about my sweetheart. My world feels like it’s collapsing around me, but I refuse to believe it. There’s been a mistake.
“Get out, and get low.” I hand him the gun in my hand and push his shoulder toward the door of the car. Tommy doesn’t waste a second, and I hop over the console to sit in his seat. As the cops roll up and park their car in front of mine, blocking me in, I get out of the car through the driver’s side, making it appear as though it was opened for me. The fucking sirens and bright lights piss me off.
“Good evening, officers.” I shut the door and walk to them as the uniformed men get out. Another car pulls up and Detective Anderson gets out. I narrow my eyes at him. I fucking hate that prick. He’d lie, cheat and steal to see us all behind bars.
“Vincent Valetti, you’re under arrest.”
My brows shoot up in surprise, but I don’t fight them. It’s foolish to put up a fight. That would just give them something they can actually charge you with. I mentally check off every possible thing in my head. No concealed weapons on me. Nothing they can pin on me. I can’t think of a damn thing that they would be able to find in the car.
I try to breathe in and out calmly as I turn around and put my hands on my head. I know the drill. I lean my stomach against the car door. This isn’t the first time it’s happened. As they slam my head into the roof of the car, I see Tommy walking down the alley. He catches my eyes and nods. He knows the drill, too. My lawyer will be there faster than I will.
I’ll be out in no time.
As long as this isn’t about my girl.
Elle
“Elle, my baby!” My mother stands in the brightly lit front room of the police station. The place is mostly deserted, save for me, the two cops behind me and the one at the desk. And my mother.
I don’t answer her. I don’t know what to say. I’m still pissed off about how she dropped me from her life the second I had no money to give her. Her nose is bright red, and her eyes are watery. I’d say it’s from crying, but it’s not. She’s drunk. I bite my bottom lip as the cops walk me closer to the front desk. They leave me standing there as my mother comes closer.
“Baby girl, are you alright?” she asks, with both hands grasping for mine. Baby girl? My mother has never called me that. I pull my hands away from her.
“What did you do?” I snarl at her. She backs away slowly, looking to her left, then her right. Her hand comes up to her chest and if she were wearing a necklace she’d be clutching it.
“They called to tell me they found you,” she answers.
“Found me?” I practically yell. “You knew where I was!”
“It’s okay.” She reaches out for me again. “We’re going to get you out of this mess.” I stare blankly at her as she continues. “I know he kidnapped you. I was so worried.”
I sneer at her. “Were you worried when you called me a bitch for not giving you more money?”
She looks to her right and lowers her voice. “Just calm down. The police are going to give us a place out west. We’re going to go into the witness protection program. Everything is going to be worked out. Just as long as you tell them whatever they need to know.”
&nb
sp; I look at my mother up and down. Does she think she’s getting a fresh start? Is that what she sees this as? A get out of jail free card where her past mistakes vanish, and she can use this to her advantage?
“I love you. I really do.” My voice cracks because it’s true. I do love my mother, and for some reason it makes me sick. But I deserve better. I raise my voice and harden it. “I told you that you could call me. And you called once, for money. You really were ‘so worried,' weren’t you?”
“Elle.” My mother tries to make her voice sound stern.
“You're drunk, mother. Go home and take care of yourself.”
“I can’t afford it on my own!” she yells at me. That’s really what it all comes down to. It’s always what it all comes down to.
“Then get a fucking job!” The officers come between us, and one pushes me toward the back, while a third comes behind my mother.
“You ungrateful bitch!” she screams at me as the officer pulls her away. She’s drunk and being stupid and she tries smacking the officer away. I can’t watch. She needs to get her shit together. I keep moving and try to ignore my mother’s screams as the cops lead me to a back room. My heart fucking hurts. I can’t help her if she doesn’t want it though. I just can’t put up with her shit anymore.
They open a door on the left and I walk through and almost laugh. It’s just like the movies. A mirror and everything. I guess they’re going to interrogate me. I choke on the ball forming in my throat.
At least they didn’t handcuff me. I sit down and take a shaky breath. I’m not going to give them anything. Not a damn word. As soon as they close the door I say, “I want a lawyer.”
“Miss Hawthorne. There’s no need for a lawyer; we just want to ask you a few questions.” My eyes dart to theirs. They have to give me a lawyer, don’t they?
Those Boys Are Trouble Page 30
