Mobster Series Anniversary Edition

by Amy Rachiele

  This makes me in awe of her though. I haven’t met many girls that could take it. I’m thankful that Megan isn’t bowed over in a catatonic ball like her sister. Her father has put her and Erin through hell, and it truly pisses me off.

  “Here you go.” A cheery attendant returns with a small white packet and a miniature glass of water. She hands them to Megan.

  Megan gracefully gulps down the pills and then returns to resting against me.

  “I had an awful nightmare,” she says into my chest. “I was falling, then I landed in the ocean.”

  “It was just a dream,” I soothe, brushing her hair with my hand.

  “It was so real,” she shudders in my arms. “But you pulled me up to the surface of the water.”

  “I’d swim the Atlantic for you. In fact, I’d do anything for you.” I say straight into her eyes.

  I tip her head up by her chin and gently press a kiss to her lips. Megan shifts and snakes her arms around my neck. She kisses me back, greedily, like she was looking for something and found it.

  I caress her back with my hands and part her lips to make the kiss deeper. Oh, how I love this sweet girl! My heart is slamming in my chest. I raise my hands to her thick mane of wavy red hair, and I am lost. No hum of plane engines, no attackers, no hurting people.

  Thump, thump.

  My chair snaps forward twice. I swivel my head and give Vito a brutal stare. Megan shifts away from me dazed. He’s lucky he’s my best friend because, if it were anyone else, I would rip their fuckin’ head off.

  Vito points to Erin, who is now awake and watching us make out through the space between the seats. Her face is discolored and vacant.

  I get the message loud and clear from Vito and nod to Megan.

  “Your sister’s up,” I say.

  Megan twists around and taps Erin’s knee.

  “You okay?” she asks.

  No response. But Erin unclasps her seatbelt and stands. Megan snaps up too. What is she doing? Erin leaves her seat and walks to the back of the plane. Megan follows her.

  “What the fuck, dude?” Vito asks me. “Keep that shit to a minimum. People were rubberneckin’ to watch you.”

  “I don’t give a shit!” I huff. “She’s mine.”

  “Well, her sister’s already zoning the fuck out, she doesn’t need to watch that shit too.”

  “Fine,” I concede.

  “Hey, does that chooch Troy even know we’re coming? He’s going to be pretty surprised when Megan shows up with us.”

  “I hope Patrick told him,” I say, my blood starting to boil. “That pansy better keep his hands to himself when it comes to Megan. Memories of them together at the fire hydrant have been seared in to my brain.”

  Vito laughs, “That was one...hot...fuckin’ show.”

  “Thanks ass-wipe,” I mumble, and he laughs harder.

  Turbulence makes the plane dip and shake. I do the opposite of the little red sign that reads, “Please fasten seatbelt.” Megan and Erin haven’t come back yet. The plane isn’t that big, but, when I check up and down the aisle, I don’t see them.

  I motion to Vito and point towards the front. I knew they had headed to the back of the plane originally, but I wasn’t taking any chances, weird shit happens on planes all the time.

  Even with the warnings over the speaker system to sit down, Vito and I walk the aisle in opposite directions.

  At the galley area I find them, Erin is in a jump seat by the bathroom throwing up in a federally-regulated barf bag. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Megan in another seat in the corner by the huge aircraft door. The sound of the engines is much louder back here.

  The big brother twitch finds me again. I lean over a panting, green-faced Erin, and kiss the top of her head. I can feel Megan’s eyes on me and glance her way. She is smiling broadly at me. She is so fuckin’ pretty!

  One of the flight attendants takes Erin’s bag and hands her a new one. Vito stands in the aisle at the last seat watching the scene. His face has an unfamiliar expression. I can’t pin point it. He motions me over.

  “Shouldn’t they give her something?” he asks. “She’s gonna dehydrate.”

  I shrug my shoulders. The crackle of the loudspeaker sounds again. “We will be landing in South Bend in approximately ten minutes. Please take your seats. Make sure your seatbelt is securely fastened. And as always thank you for flying with us!”

  Megan gets up and helps her sister to stand. We walk single file back to our seats. The girls sit together again as we land in Indiana.

  Down the passageway and out into the terminal, it’s like we landed on foreign soil. I am totally out of my element. This is not New Jersey, and it makes me uneasy. Even the faces of people in the airport seem to have a different shape and context to them. I have a burning need to get my hands on a weapon. It would comfort me.

  Vito is on high alert, too. It is crowded and, for all intents and purposes, we are on alien ground. My Mafia education kicks in, and I will have to rely on only that until I can get my hands on a piece. That will be my first order of business once we settle in.

  We rent a car. Vito wants to rent two sports cars to tool around in. I nix that idea and rent a black Porsche Cayenne SUV. Definitely more practical, and with the money Pop gave me, we can afford to be extravagant and comfortable.

  I pull the vehicle to the curb. I pop the rear door, and Vito loads the luggage in. I jump out to help.

  “Wow, this is ‘mob-ish.’” Megan deadpans.

  “How does the saying go, ‘If the shoe fits...?’?” I trail off, smiling at her.

  Erin’s complexion isn’t blotchy and red anymore. It is a perpetual grayish-green. She sits in the backseat, and Megan sits next to her.

  I drive while Vito rides shotgun. Vito uses his phone to put in the address of the campus.

  “Pull in here,” he says.

  I navigate into the parking lot of a convenience store. Vito gets out and goes in. I turn in my seat to check on the girls.

  Erin is staring into space, and Megan is looking at me. She shoots her eyes to Erin, deliberately, letting me know without words that she is worried.

  The passenger door opens, and Vito slides back in. He has a box of saltines and a large bottle of Gatorade. He opens the saltines and tosses one in his mouth. Then he reaches diagonally behind him and waves the box at Erin.

  With effort, she reaches into the sleeve of crackers, taking a few. Slowly, she puts one in her mouth and chews. We sit there waiting and watching Erin. She never looks anywhere but out her window.

  Vito then twists the top off on the Gatorade and hands it to Erin. Either she doesn’t notice or doesn’t want it. Megan takes it from Vito’s hand and holds it under her sister’s nose. She won’t take it.

  “Come on, Erin, have a small drink,” Megan pleads quietly. Erin remains unresponsive.

  Vito unclicks his belt and gets out of the car again. What is he fucking doing now?

  He opens Megan’s door. “Why don’t you ride next to Tonio?”

  Megan gets out and sits next to me while Vito buckles in next to Erin. He whispers to her. Then Vito reaches forward and motions for Megan to give him the Gatorade. Erin drinks it. It is only a couple of sips, but at least it is something.

  I pull out of the parking space and get back on the road to Notre Dame.

  “So, this is cool. You get to visit the college before you come here next year,” I say to Megan to fill some of the silence in the car.

  “Yeah,” she responds quietly.

  I take her hand in mine, and Megan leans her head back and closes her eyes.

  *****

  The campus is huge. I thought it felt foreign here in Indiana, but nothing could have prepared me for the Gothic European buildings.

  Vito gives me directions from the backseat to O’Neill Hall, where Troy is living. The irony of the name is not lost on me.

  Large stone structures, with church-like pillars adorn all of the fancy structures. It’s anothe
r country right here in America. Students carrying heavy backpacks flood the sidewalks and step right out into the street without looking.

  O’Neill Hall is on the other side of the campus to where we enter. It is slow going amongst the pedestrian crowds. Megan sits up and watches. There is a small smile on her face. I can see it in her profile. Is she happy that she’s at the campus, or happy to see Troy? Fanabola!

  “Tonio, turn right here,” Vito directs me.

  Chapter 3

  Bombaleed (bom-ba-lead): messed up! or poor quality.

  Megan:

  The Cayenne rolls to a stop at a four story pale brick building. A large sign on the door reads, O’Neill Family Hall. Some distant relatives must have donated some serious money for this place. My heart is pounding, and I’m not sure why. Seeing Troy is important to me. The thought didn’t hit me until I saw his dorm.

  Troy has been my best friend for a long time. I tell him everything. He’s like the big brother I never had. I need him. We have had some great times over the years. He has been such a big part of my life. He has kept me grounded to my Irish heritage.

  I turn to Erin from my seat. Antonio has already stepped out of the car. She looks like she’s going to cry again. Vito holds out his hand to help Erin out. She takes it.

  Room three-twenty-three is of course on the third floor. We ride in the pristine elevator in silence. When I picture college dormitories, I imagine something dirty or messy. Not this immaculate and modern building.

  Antonio’s face is hard. I’ve seen that expression before. I give him a reassuring squeeze of his hand. I cringe at the thought of how many times his hands have punched or hit someone, or snapped a limb. The same hands that offer me reassurances and kindness.

  The four of us are a sight. We look like we’ve been traveling for days not just the morning.

  I step up to Troy’s door. I raise my hand to knock, and the door flies open. It’s a girl...a tall girl with long blonde hair. She’s rumpled and is adjusting her shirt.

  “Hi,” she says and then walks past us. “Bye,” she says and throws a cute little wave over her shoulder. Which I immediately think is directed at Antonio.

  I gaze into the room. It’s small and neat. Troy is lying on the bed, shirtless; his arm is thrown over his eyes. In a matter of seconds, he sees me and jumps up. Troy’s face is hard, just like Antonio’s. I am still processing the girl leaving when Troy walks to me in the doorway.

  “Hi, Meg,” he says, and pulls me in for a gentle hug. Antonio’s hand shoots out to stop him. Troy allows the interference. Then he takes his T-shirt and yanks it on forcefully with his back to us.

  “So what do I owe the pleasure of seeing you today?” he sighs, rethinking his sarcasm. “Meg, you weren’t supposed to be here until Friday.”

  We are all still standing in the doorway/hallway. I’m not even sure if Troy saw anyone but Antonio and me.

  I step into the room with Antonio, and Troy faces us with a changed expression. He is trying to be pleasant. “What’s with the bodyguard?” Troy chuckles.

  “It’s boyfriend, asshole!” Antonio retorts sinisterly.

  “Oh well, pardon me,” Troy hisses sardonically.

  There is a charge of male electricity in the room, raw and feral.

  “Didn’t my father call you?” I ask him, trying to defuse the glowering males in the small room.

  “No.”

  “Oh,” I say, surprised. “I’m going to be visiting longer than expected. Erin is here too.”

  I swivel around to the doorway, but she’s not there. I step back into the hall, a little flustered. Leaning against the wall is Erin, and she is staring at the floor. Vito is standing next to her. He shakes his head at me and I understand. She doesn’t want to go into Troy’s room. I can sympathize with her not wanting to see Troy; he does look a lot like Connor.

  Troy tries to follow me, but Antonio stops him with a hand on his chest. “I don’t think she wants to see you dude.”Wow, Antonio is very intuitive.

  “Last I heard, the O’Neill’s put an end to your little fairytale,” Troy says vehemently to Antonio. Antonio’s posturing at the comment sizzles the atmosphere, and his upbringing rears its head.

  “Meg...?” Troy asks frustrated. “Can you tell me what’s going on?” Troy scrubs his hand down his face. I snap back into the room not wanting a fight.

  “There’s been some trouble, Troy. We need to stay here for awhile. My father sent us here,” I tell him trying to calm the situation.

  “I don’t think we’ll all fit,” Troy spits acerbically and gestures to his small room. Antonio steps forward, and I cringe.

  “We’re staying at the guest suites on campus,” Antonio says, pushing forward invading Troy’s space. His voice matter-of-fact, “I am going to take the girls there to get some rest.”

  Antonio sees Troy’s phone on the nightstand and picks it up. “Here’s my number. Call us when you get your shit together.”

  Antonio reaches for my hand and pulls me from the room. He is moving quickly. The four of us get back in the elevator. Erin is still speechless. Vito and Antonio are ticked off.

  That just wasn’t what I envisioned would happen seeing Troy. I left the dorm feeling betrayed, for what I’m not sure. Watching that girl leaving his room startled me, but I wouldn’t say it bothered me. I know he has a life, but one minute he’s saying he wants to marry me, and the next he’s sleeping around?

  Maybe betrayed isn’t the right word. I think I feel gipped. I didn’t find the normal solace I usually find with Troy, and that makes me sad. It’s like I lost something with him. But I just have to turn and look at Antonio, and everything I feel I lost with Troy, I have gained ten-fold with Antonio.

  *****

  We arrive at the guest suites. They are beautiful and richly furnished. The campus really went all out for visitors. They even have small kitchens. There are two bedrooms in each suite. The units are adjoined by a door in the living room.

  I flop on the couch in the suite I am sharing with Erin, exhausted. Antonio and Vito move the bags into the respective rooms. Then I catch them doing something weird. They are looking out every window, moving every curtain, checking the locks on doors. They are moving succinctly like they’re cops staking out a building.

  Erin slips into her room after it’s checked and shuts the door.

  “Don’t lock it,” Vito orders at the closed door.

  Antonio sits down next to me and leans in to give me a sweet kiss.

  “I have some stuff I need to do,” he says. “Why don’t you go lie down too?” His request is syrupy, but with a hint of command behind it.

  Vito hovers by the door that connects the rooms. Antonio gets up, checks the bolt on our main door and leaves with Vito. They don’t shut the adjoining door, but I still can’t hear them.

  I go to my room and grab a blanket off the bed. I lie down on the couch and close my eyes.

  A phone buzzing on the coffee table wakes me. Antonio is reaching for it.

  “Hello,” he says, “Yeah.” (pause) “Everything is fine.” The other person is speaking. Then Antonio continues, “How’s everything there?” (pause) “Good. I wish I could tell you but I can’t.” (pause) “I don’t know how long. No, I know. (pause) I’ll talk to you later, bye.”

  I yawn and stretch.

  “Alessandra says hi,” Antonio says.

  “How does she know?”

  “I’m gone, you’re gone. Alessandra is pretty bright.”

  Antonio’s phone buzzes again. I get up feeling the call of nature when I spot the table in the kitchen area. It is loaded with stuff—guns, ammunition, phones, crackers, chips, and a jar of peanut butter. Holy Crap!

  “Hey,” his demeanor is totally different. “Everything is good here.” (pause) “Yeah, I sent Vito.” (pause) “He should be back any minute. I will. Bye.” Antonio hangs up.

  He comes over to me and kisses me. My stomach flip-flops, and I reach up and wrap my arms around his n
eck. He kisses me deeper. He tastes like spearmint gum. His arms come around my waist, and he tugs me closer. Antonio pushes me back a little, and I fall onto the couch cushions. He hovers above me — kissing me, worshipping me with his passion. I’ve never felt so wanted in all of my life.

  “Dude! Come on,” Vito says walking into the room annoyed. He’s carrying a map. He lays it across the coffee table in front of us.

  I glance at it. It is all marked up with a highlighter.

  “What are you guys doing?” I ask.

  “We’re learning our surroundings,” Antonio says. “We have to know where everything is.”

  I point to the kitchen table covered with stuff. “And that?”

  “Shit we need,” he replies.

  “But where did you get it?” I ask intrigued.

  “We have resources,” he says flatly, and Vito laughs still reading the map.

  There is a very faint click behind me. Slowly Erin’s door opens; she walks out with a very bad case of bedhead. Her red curls jut out in all directions framing her face. Vito stands.

  “Feeling better?” I ask. Erin just shrugs her shoulders.

  Vito has made it to the refrigerator and grabs an orange juice. Wow they’ve been busy while we’ve been asleep. He hands it to Erin.

  She seems to sip it gratefully. Antonio’s phone buzzes again. Angry lines form on his forehead.

  “Yeah,” his tone is intimidating. “No, you can talk to me, asshole.” I immediately know it is Troy. “They’re fine.” (pause) “Tomorrow would be better,” he says. “Fine.” Antonio hangs up.

  “What was that about?” I ask.

  “Troy wants to get together. We have stuff to do and talk about. He’ll have to wait.”