Mobster's Angel (Mobster Series)

by Rachiele, Amy

  “Nothin’!” I roar.

  I don’t stop myself quickly enough. Ronnie opens the door just as I fling my cell phone at it. He ducks just in time. It shatters against the wall of the hallway.

  “Shit! Dude! You’re bombaleed! Stop for a second!”

  “I fucked up!” I roar on the top of my lungs. Ronnie takes a step back. I reach for the lamp on my dresser. I rip the cord out of the wall and hurl it across the room. The force of it smashing against the plaster leaves a large hole in the wall. It’s fucked up now, like me. One more day and she leaves for California. FUCK!

  “Calm down!” Ronnie yells back at me. “What do you mean, you fucked up?! What did you fuck up?!”

  “Erin!”

  *****

  After another half an hour of breaking shit, I finally calmed down and stopped demolishing our apartment. Ronnie’s girlfriend took off after I shattered the lamp in my bedroom. She didn’t stick around for the toaster, coffee maker, and remote controls.

  This morning I immediately regret the coffee maker because I fuckin’ need a cup bad. My throat is sore and my eyes burn. Everything in my body just fucking hurts. I push through it and get ready for class.

  I go expecting to see her. I want to apologize. I was an asshole. It’s her life. I wasn’t with her then. Those were her choices, which had nothing to do with me. I feel betrayed, but I know I shouldn’t. I’m stupid. I should’ve gone after her.

  I walk into the classroom. The seats are filling up quickly because class starts in five minutes.

  “Don’t go oobatz,” Ronnie whispers to me.

  “Huh? What?” I ask, half listening.

  I search the room. She’s not here… She’s not here! Disappointment settles like a rock in my stomach. Class is starting. Kirk is here. Erin is not. She never misses classes. She is so fuckin’ studious. This is not like her.

  The crazy shit from last night stirs in me. I’m ready to start throwing desks. I restrain myself, but still cause a scene because I grab Kirk by the shirt and drag him out of the classroom.

  “Excuse me!” Professor Elden shouts. “What do you think you’re doing?”

  “What the hell!?” Kirk shouts.

  “I need to talk to you,” I say through clenched teeth. He stumbles along with me to the door. I swing him around and into the hallway.

  “What is your problem?” Kirk attempts a gruff demeanor, but I can tell he’s scared shitless. I don’t give a fuck. I just want to know where Erin is.

  “Where is she?”

  Professor Elden comes to the doorway. “I’ve called security,” she warns. I dismiss her with a wave of my hand and focus my attention back on Kirk. He looks like he’s going to bolt any minute.

  “I don’t know. She texted me and told me to send her the assignments. That’s it.” I send him a savage glare. “And she said have a nice Thanksgiving. I swear.”

  “You don’t know where she is?”

  “Dude!” Ronnie says. He’s out of the classroom now and holding onto my punching arm, probably afraid I’m going to let one fly. “Maybe she’s at home.”

  Ronnie could be right, but my gut thinks differently. She fuckin’ took off. She hates being home, even more than she probably hates me right now. I stomp away. Ronnie trails behind me.

  “Wait up!” he calls.

  “I know where she is,” I tell him.

  “Where?”

  “California.”

  Chapter 20

  Erin

  He’s back. The grotesque gun hangs in the air by my temple. Across the room I see my sister bound to our kitchen chair in the darkness. “Don’t fuckin’ move,” he echoes. “We’re just gonna sit here and wait for the Cleaner. He killed my family, I kill his.” He laughs long and hard like some sicko.

  “An eye for an eye.”

  “An eye for an eye.”

  “An eye for an eye.”

  A loud thump comes from outside on the back steps. It makes me shudder in my seat. The guy jumps up and grabs me by the back of the neck. His rough fingers painfully push into my skin. Horror crawls its way up my throat, choking me. I shake and uncontrollable murmurs slip out of me.

  “Don’t fuckin’ open your mouths.” He holds the silencer up to his lips like it’s his finger, shushing us. I can’t take my eyes off him. My eyes are filled to the brim with tears.

  He shifts his hand from my neck to my hair. He buries it deep to the roots and holds me steady. His other hand moves the gun towards my temple.

  A scream rips up and out of me. Then another.

  My eyes open and Clarissa is there on my bed, talking to me. She soothes me by rubbing my arm and speaking softly. My covers are on the ground. I must’ve kicked them off the bed. I have a layer of thick sweat all over my skin. I’m exhausted; I feel like I just battled a dragon. Damn nightmares! I close my eyes.

  “That’s right. Go back to sleep,” Clarissa says.

  *****

  It’s wonderful to have great friends. Joey and Clarissa were waiting for me right when I got off the plane. Clarissa enveloped me in a long hug that said everything I needed to hear… You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. I’m here for you. I love you.

  I take my first day back to hang out at the apartment. Clarissa wanted to stay with me, but I didn’t want her to miss the test she has today. Tomorrow is Thanksgiving and Joey has some big plans for us. He said he wants to cook for us: a turkey and a bunch of different side dishes he learned to make from one of the chefs at the casino.

  When Clarissa gets back from class, the three of us head to the grocery store. We go through the motions of grocery shopping, not saying much. Clarissa quietly pushes a stainless steel cart that we slowly fill with things. They’re trying to give me my space, and I appreciate it.

  I decide to get things for my mother’s sweet potato pie recipe. I pick up the ingredients as we go up and down the aisles, grabbing spices and a ready-made pie crust.

  “What are you making?” Clarissa asks.

  “My mom’s pie recipe. It’s good.”

  “Cool.”

  Joey comes down the aisle, carrying an enormous turkey.

  “What the hell, Joey? That’ll feed twenty people. It’s just us!” Clarissa exclaims.

  “I like leftovers,” he declares.

  “Will it even fit in the oven?” Clarissa asks him. Joey gets this cute pondering look on his face.

  “I didn’t think of that.”

  “Get a smaller one,” Clarissa orders.

  Joey picks out a smaller turkey and we check out at the register. We spend the rest of the day together cooking. Vito’s right - it is relaxing. I don’t want to think about him right now, but whatever I do typically sends my mind back to him. Dammit!

  *****

  Thanksgiving Day is quiet. Clarissa sleeps in. I take my alone time in the morning to make my mother’s sweet potato pie. She finally gets up around ten, when Joey comes over to prep the turkey and to put it in the oven.

  “Did you talk to your parents yet?” Joey asks.

  “I haven’t even turned my phone back on since the flight.” I don’t want to talk to anyone.

  “Tonio called me. Your mom is rip-shit that you left without telling them. Your sister is worried about you.”

  Joey makes me feel guilty for not letting anyone know my plans. It’s selfish that I didn’t tell my family that I was leaving, but I left so quickly because I didn’t want to deal with anyone.

  “I think we should do something different today. After dinner, how about bowling?” Clarissa suggests wearing her purple pajamas.

  “Will they even be open?” Joey asks. “It’s a holiday.”

  “I Googled Bowl-a-rama and they’re open after four.”

  Joey shrugs his shoulders. “Sounds good.”

  They’re trying to keep me busy. Their effort is much appreciated.

  “So?” Clarissa asks me.

  “Yeah. Whatever you guys want to do. I haven’t bowled in ages
.”

  *****

  The same dread that has followed me to bed for the past year is playing with me again tonight. I thought it had gone away, but ever since what happened with Vito all of my fears have come back much more intensely, at least in my dreams. Sheep hurtling fences doesn’t work as well as Vito hurtling fences.

  I don’t look forward to falling asleep anymore. When Vito stayed with me in South Bend, he took the nightmares away. And for the time we were together, it was easier to fall asleep too. I wish I could erase what happened with him on Tuesday. Vito’s reaction was upsetting. It still hurts.

  But I need him. He’s been my rock through all of my hardships. And I think I’m falling in love with him.

  I turn over and beat my pillow: half in frustration, half because I’m trying to get comfortable. Then I close my eyes.

  One. Vito hurtles the fence.

  Two. Vito hurtles the fence.

  Three. Vito hurtles the fence.

  Four. Vito hurtles the fence.

  “Stop taking the covers,” Vito chastises me playfully and yanks the blanket off me.

  “Don’t. I’m cold.” The hotel room is freezing.

  “You need to learn to share,” he says, making fun.

  “You need to learn not to be a bully,” I say, snatching the comforter back and rolling up in it like a sausage. “Now you get nothing. Go to sleep.”

  Vito pulls a corner hard and fast so I spin like a top and land back on the bed, coverless. My hair is standing up straight with static, and I’m dizzy. I laugh even though I don’t want to. I try to take a stand against the blanket bullying, but I’m having too much fun. I change tactics and pretend to cry. Vito doesn’t know what to do.

  “Stop. You know I’m kidding. Here. Take it.”

  “No,” I sniffle. “I’m fine.”

  Vito grunts and slides over to me. He wraps me in the blanket and tucks me in tightly. I smile at him. He has a hint of a smile, too.

  *****

  The bed is moving.

  “Come on! It’s Black Friday! It’s time to shop, shop, shop!” Clarissa sing-songs as she jumps up and down on my mattress.

  “Ugh! What time is it?” I mumble.

  “Forty-thirty!” She leaps off the bed. “Time for a shower! Joey will be here at five.” I glance at the window; it’s still dark out. I rub my hands over my face and try to wake myself up. Through squinted eyes, I make my way to the bathroom to shower. My movements are sluggish, my limbs heavy. The spray of the shower brings some cognition and life into me. When I’m done, I dry off change into shopping clothes. I layer a t-shirt with a light jacket of Clarissa’s and toss on a pair of jeans that I apparently left here. I guess it’s fortuitous, considering that I showed up here with no luggage.

  Exactly at five on the dot, there is a knock on the door. Clarissa lets Joey in.

  “Ready to knock people over for a low priced blender and four hundred thread count sheets?” Joey asks.

  “Ready!” Clarissa gushes. She’s pumped for shopping. I grab my purse and follow them out into the hallway with a yawn on my lips.

  *****

  After store number four, I really get in to it. I buy a great outfit for Megan. She’s going to love it. I find some snuggly soft flannel shirts for my dad. I buy a cute pair of boots for myself. Retail therapy works wonders. We quickly load our arms with bags.

  “Should we put some of this stuff in the car?” Clarissa suggests. “It’s getting heavy.”

  “I’ll go get it and meet you at the door.” Joey leaves and Clarissa and I take our time making our way to the entrance.

  “Feel how soft this scarf is!” Clarissa puts one of her bags down to check out a purple angora scarf. She pulls me over to her.

  “It’s beautiful,” I note, rubbing it with my fingertips. “But we should head to the door. Joey will be there soon. We can come back after we drop our bags off.”

  “Oh, fine,” Clarissa responds, rolling her eyes.

  We head for the automatic doors. I step through and suddenly feel a sharp pain on the back of my head. Everything goes black.

  Vito

  My self-loathing is tearing me apart. I’m fuckin’ sick over Erin. It took all of my control to not hop a plane to California for Thanksgiving.

  Thanksgiving was a bust anyway. I called my mother and said that I wasn’t coming. I’ll be lucky if she takes my calls by Christmas. I moped around by myself and watched movies. I watched fuckin’ Charlie and the Chocolate Factory three times. I can repeat the damn thing nearly word for word.

  The day after, I head to Baby’s. I’m still pissed about what happened, but I go back anyway. I’m looking for trouble and fuckin’ with Baby’s business will make me feel something other than this shit. My goal is to make Black Friday as black and dismal as it sounds.

  Dolly lets me in. He’s happy to see me. Downstairs, it’s more crowded than I’ve ever seen it. The place is cramped with male bodies, smoke, and stale beer. Ty is standing by the bar. I walk over.

  “Hey,” Ty greets me.

  Ziggy signals to me to see if I want a beer. I shake my head with a snarky no.

  “Where’s your girlfriend?” Ty asks. A smile plays on his lips.

  “Are you trying to fuck with me?” I ask.

  “No,” he says, laughing.

  “She’s not my girlfriend, and she’s in California.” I grind out between my teeth. My pride makes my anger spike.

  “I knew you’d fuck it up,” Ty says, shaking his head.

  “What?!”

  “You’re volatile, unapproachable, and an asshole ninety percent of the time.”

  “Fuck you!” I say. Ty smirks, takes a swig of his beer, and holds his hand out in an, I told you so gesture. “See. That girl and her sweet ass need to be handled properly,” he lectures.

  “You don’t even…” I start to say when I notice a fuckin’ weirder than usual guy at the other end of the bar. Purple bags under his eyes. I study him and he studies me back. Something isn’t right. I approach him slowly, but he takes off, running as soon as I get close. He dodges through people and flies up the stairs to the exit. I chase after him.

  Racing up the cement steps, I twist and turn with the stairs. I run straight at Dolly, who is stunned by runner number one and runner number two, me, ramming the door and sprinting out into the cold night air. I think this skinny son of a bitch thought he could actually out run me. I’m big, but I’m fast.

  I grab his collar and yank him to the ground. We’re both breathing hard. The streetlights accent his grotesque eye bags, making him look like some kind of paranormal freak of nature. He looks at me as he lies on the ground in front of me. He grins wickedly.

  “You finally fucked up. She’s done for,” he hisses.

  “What the fuck are you talking about!?” I shout.

  “No one messes with the Talbot’s. Not even mafia trash like you.”

  “Who the fuck are the Talbots?” What the hell is this lunatic talking about?

  “She didn’t tell you? She pissed off the wrong guy,” he spits vulgarly. “No one is going to give a shit about some mafia whore found on the California coastline with no pulse.”

  It immediately registers that he’s talking about Erin. Sizzling rage travels through my bloodstream. I grab this fucker and toss him into some recycle bins on the sidewalk. The clang and crash of empty cans clinks over the cement. I storm over to him and kick him hard in the stomach.

  “Talk.”

  “You’re just some dumb mob muscle!” He laughs manically like he’s from some low rated horror movie as he clutches his stomach. What is going on?!

  Dolly approaches me. “Vito! Hey, you need some help?”

  “No!” I say. “Call Tonio. Something very bad is going down.”

  This loser goes to sit up, but I kick him again to keep him down. Fear for Erin is fueling me.

  “Tell me what you mean, fucker!”

  “Running away from you was our chance,” he laughs
again, but this one holds a certain degree of nervousness. I lift him roughly and bang him against the closest brick wall.

  “Who are you?!”

  “I’m nobody.”

  I grab his hand and twist his fingers back. One slight movement from me will snap them.

  “Is someone after Erin? Who are the Talbots?”

  “Dumb as a stump.” He antagonizes me.

  Snap.

  The guy howls in agony. His index finger of his left hand hangs awkwardly. I grab his pinky.

  “Who is after Erin?” I don’t even let him answer before snap it.

  “Owwww!” he screams.

  “Who is after Erin?” I go to grab his middle finger. The guy is limp and whining in pain. I move it a centimeter and he cries out, “Brice!” He cries out again. “Brice Talbot.”

  I do my best to keep my composure because I need this guy for information. My instincts tell me to reach inside his chest and tear his heart out. If only I could.

  “Tonio’s two minutes away,” Dolly tells me.

  “You’re running out of time,” I comment brutally.

  “No. You are,” he says cryptically.

  “What? Who is Brice?”

  “Senator Talbot’s son,” he offers without coercion.

  “Why does he want Erin?”

  “That’s just it. She doesn’t want him.”

  “What the fuck? Stop talking in riddles,” I yell and smash him against the brick again. I hear his skull make contact. He loses consciousness for a second.

  “Hey! Hey! Asshole! Talk to me!”

  He rouses.

  “What does he plan to do to Erin?”

  The guy’s eyes open and shut. He’s trying to stay alert, but he’s failing.

  “Exactly what the mafia does,” comes out his mouth, slurred as all hell.

  “Shit!”

  Tonio’s Camaro comes screaming around the corner. He jumps out and runs over to me.

  “Where the fuck is she?” Tonio yells with enough fury to spit fire.

  “Shit, he’s already out of it,” I tell him.

  “She’s gone!” Tonio shouts at me.

  “What?”

  “She went to Cali and Joey called and said she’s been taken!”

  “Fuck!”