by Nova Rain
“Good point,” Helena commented with a nod.
“The funny thing is, after we were done, I wanted to hug him and thank him,” I disclosed the fact that had both shocked and enraged me. “I have never thanked a guy for sex. Not once. Our first time was rather quick, but…”
“You did it twice?” She squeaked, her brows popping up.
“Actually, we did it five times,” I told her, unable to keep my smile from reappearing. “Five, wonderful, crazy-hot times. You won’t believe what he can do with his mouth. And his hands? Well, let me just say he knows exactly where and how to touch a woman. He…”
“Okay, okay!” Helena raised her hands in the air to silence me. “You made your point. I don’t need the details. It does sound like someone has a crush on that henchman, I must say.”
“No, I do not!” I emphasized, my smile vaporizing. “I just spent a great night with him, that’s all!”
“If that night were to happen again, would you say ‘no’?” She posed the question, the volume in her voice rising.
“Would you say ‘no’ to a tall, handsome man who makes you laugh, who pays you compliments even during sex? A guy who listens and understands exactly what you’re going through?” My answer came in the form of another question. I might have been expecting her response, but all that Helena did was push her lips together and avert her gaze from me. “That’s what I thought. One other thing. You’re confusing physical attraction with emotional attachment. In my book, those are two completely different things. Would I sleep with him again? Yes. Am I in love with him? No.”
“Maybe you’re right,” Helena said, her voice but a whisper. “It’s just… My God.” She giggled and brought her gaze back to mine. “You know how much I don’t like hearing these sort of details, and you still tried to give them to me. I don’t know about you, but to me, this sounds like enthusiasm. Too much enthusiasm.”
“Well, in my defense, I had an amazing time last night.” I smiled. “Thanks for the input, doctor. And the support. They both mean a lot to me. I’ll be seeing you.”
“Bye.”
Ah, Helena… The calm and soft-spoken voice of reason, the friend willing to criticize in a non-insulting way. God, I wished she lived closer to me. I wished I didn’t have to drive for an hour-and-a-half to have those great conversations with her. One could argue that there was always the phone or Skype, but one-on-one was much, much better. Reading facial expressions is impossible during phone conversations, and I never liked video calls, because I’d have to stare at a screen. Even so, I left North Haven that day, confident that she hadn’t turned her back on me. I still had a friend who accepted me, despite my mistakes and my shortcomings.
Chapter Eleven
Donny
“Bryan and I are going to his cousin’s place: 781 JFK Drive, Tribeca. Jimmy’s come up with something.”
It was about time he did. It had been a week since the bombing of Joe’s mall, and we were still in the dark. We knew squat about who had done this and why.
In spite of the good news, something in Joe’s text felt off. Jimmy was a great hacker, there was no doubt about that, but he was just a kid in his senior year in college. How had he managed to afford a place in one of Manhattan’s most expensive neighborhoods? I could suspect; yet, I didn’t want to believe it. His involvement in the armored truck heist had earned him two million bucks. All three of us had advised him to keep a low profile and not buy anything for at least a year. That way, he would stay off the cops’ radar and the organization’s radar, too.
Arriving at his address confirmed my gut feeling. A house in his neighborhood had to cost more than my entire apartment building. They were all on big estates, surrounded by stonewalls and featured power gates. In fact, Jimmy’s place was the only one without those fancy features. It was the last house on the dead-end street. A shiny, black Audi R8 was parked in the driveway. Beyond it, I could make out a huge glass façade. But the worst thing of all wasn’t the front. It was the interior that outraged me. Computer screens were flashing in the dark space that was supposed to be his living room. There had to be more than two dozen of them in there. Two rows lined the side walls, whereas another row lined the far wall. Jimmy himself was outside, talking to Joe and Bryan.
I couldn’t believe my eyes. Joe, the hothead who couldn’t keep his cool, didn’t seem angry with him. On the contrary, by the time I got out of my car, the three of them were laughing.
“Stupid sons of bitches…” I groaned, gritting my teeth. “Genovese Jr! Get in! I need to have a word with you!”
“Hi, Donny!” Jimmy threw a quick glance over, standing between my friends. I pushed Joe and Bryan aside and grabbed that asshole by the shirt. “Hey!” He cried out as I dragged him through his open door. “What’s gotten into you, man?”
“This!” I yelled, catching the sound of the front door clicking shut. “What the fuck is this, asshole?” I growled, slamming him against the façade. “What did I tell you? What did we all tell you? Don’t buy anything. And what did you do? You bought yourself a fucking supercar?”
“Donny!” Joe’s deep voice bounced off the walls of the room, before I felt two sets of hands on either side of me. “Get off of him, God damn it!” He shouted as he and Bryan yanked me back.
“I’m still driving a piece of shit, you retards!” I yelled, glancing at Joe first and then Bryan. “I haven’t spent a dime because that’s what we agreed on!”
“He’s right,” Bryan gave a firm nod. “You shouldn’t have bought all this stuff, Jimmy. You’re attracting too much attention to yourself.”
“Okay…” Jimmy coughed out. “First of all, I got a pretty good deal on the Audi. I paid seventy grand for it. Its retail price is two hundred-and-twenty. Also, I rent this place. I didn’t buy it.”
“Can you believe that son of a bitch?!” I barked out, stepping towards him. “You’re not even twenty-two, you schmuck! You don’t even work yet. You know what the cops will say? How did a college kid come up with seventy grand? How is he able to rent this fancy place?”
“Again, Donny’s right,” Bryan continued, glaring down at his cousin. “You’re getting rid of it. You start looking for a new place tomorrow.”
“And are you guys blind or something?” I grumbled, shifting my gaze to Bryan. “Didn’t you see the car? Or the house?”
“I got distracted,” Joe answered, a touch of disappointment in his tone. “Jimmy had just texted Bryan some pretty interesting info about the footage from the mall’s surveillance cameras.”
“That’s right, I have a copy of that footage,” Jimmy explained. “I hacked into the cameras two days before the bombing. I’m sorry. I should have told you, guys.”
“It’s okay,” Joe assured him. “I just don’t understand why it took you a week to tell Bryan about it.”
“Because my facial recognition software had to go through a massive database,” Jimmy continued, heading for the nearest computer. “Without the computer power I have here, it would take weeks for it to ID anyone.”
Some frantic typing later, he pressed the “enter” button. A picture of the ground floor popped up on the screen, depicting a small group of people. Zooming in on a bald man in a gray suit, he switched tabs and brought the results of the facial recognition software search next to the picture.
“Everyone, meet Kevin Santone, Eric Santone’s second cousin,” he announced, sending shivers of fear shooting through me. “You probably never heard of him, because he lives in L.A. He’s a stockbroker; a very successful stockbroker.”
“I don’t remember inviting anyone by that name.” Tension sped up Joe’s voice. “Hell, I didn’t know there were any Santone’s left.”
“He didn’t need an invite,” I spoke, frustration sending my voice two octaves down. “He came by to see his cousin’s killer up close.”
“He can’t know about that,” Joe assumed an emphatic tone, turning his gaze to mine. “The cops ruled it an accident.”
“Then explain why a total stranger flew in all the way from L.A. on a weekday.” I challenged, intensifying my stare.
Joe puffed air out of his cheeks. “I don’t know.”
At that point, a deafening thud ruined the silence in the room. A large shell shattered the glass façade, tossing shards of glass all over the floor, before it penetrated a screen on the far wall. In a split second, it smashed its glass, sparks flying out of the panel within. Before anyone could speak, an incessant firing froze the blood in my veins. I knew well what this was…
“Move!” I cried out, speeding off to the left. One footstep afterwards, bullets were flying past, smashing each and every screen into tiny shreds of plastic and aluminum. I was the first to rush through the open door of the kitchen. I caught a glimpse of a shell punching through the wall, sending fragments of concrete and particles of dust flying across the room. I hurtled down the narrow hallway, the hail of fire not letting up. Finding a closed door, I yanked it open and ran in. I crouched down behind the dresser, Joe, Bryan and Jimmy joining me in seconds. A tremendous blast shook the foundations of the house as a blinding light came through the door. My ears whistling, I listened in. The sound of bullets had vanished. All I could hear, was fire embers creaking.
I dashed past my friends and that nerd, wondering about the source of the explosion. Finding it wasn’t difficult. Jimmy’s Audi didn’t resemble a car anymore. Its windows had been shattered. Its roof had been blown off, leaving the sharp edges of the pillars. The interior was smoldering; fire had engulfed the hood. A glance at its left side didn’t leave me any doubt. There were huge holes from its front fender all the way down to the fuel tank gas cap, just behind the taillight. The twisted roof was lying fifteen yards down the road, beside a blue Chevrolet.
“Congratulations, asshole.” I said, my gaze roaming over the burnt-out Audi. “You paid seventy grand to put a target on your back. And guess what. Your shooter’s got a machine gun.”
“A what…?” Jimmy murmured, his mouth half-open.
“Those bullet holes were made from a fifty-caliber weapon,” Joe remarked, pointing down at the driver’s door. “Bryan…” He glanced over at our friend and threw him a set of keys. “Take him up to my cabin. It’s not safe for him here, not to mention this place will be crawling with cops in minutes. Jimmy, see if you can track down Santone.”
“Let me go get my laptop.” Jimmy suggested, jogging off and back into what remained of his house.
“You think he’s still in New York?” I asked, following Joe away from the site.
“No, but the shooter is,” he stated. “We find the shooter? We find Santone.”
“I’m not sure about this, man.” I voiced my opinion, striding towards my Cadillac. “I mean, a stockbroker somehow finds out you killed his cousin, and hires an assassin to take us out? Wait; it gets better. That assassin doesn’t use a handgun or a rifle. He uses a freaking machine gun. Seriously, how many machine guns have you seen in shootouts? Because I’ve never seen one.”
“Maybe he used it to make sure we were dead,” Joe assumed. “If it’s not Santone, who else could it be?”
“Beats me,” I uttered, my tone lowering. “So, what do we do now?”
“I’m taking Michelle to a hotel,” he informed me. “Stay away from your apartment tonight.”
Really…?
Of course I would. Whoever had tried to blow our heads off, could have set an ambush. Showing my face in my neighborhood could lead to my death.
Starting my car, I began to think of places I could go. I would find a hotel later, but for now, I had a better idea. Adrenaline was still pumping through my veins. I could feel drops of cold sweat across my forehead. I needed to relax, and to me, there was only one destination. The bar where the three of us used to hang out once.
Chapter Twelve
Ava
“It still feels weird not seeing her behind the counter.”
Helena might have been right, but she had chosen the wrong person to tell this to. We were at “90’s Rocks” to have a few drinks and listen to some real music, not reminisce about Michelle’s old job.
“That’s true, but you should say that to someone who actually gives a damn,” I rebutted, lifting my glass up to my mouth. “Besides, she chose another path. Don’t forget that.”
“She’s been struggling without you, Ava.” Helena pointed out, her eyes on the bottle of Perrier in front of her. “We talk almost every night and she’s absolutely exhausted. Because of that, she and Joe have been arguing a lot. He complains that she doesn’t have any time for him.”
“I’m afraid there’s nothing I can do about that,” I maintained, my smile giving away my satisfaction. “Michelle made her own bed when she decided to—and I quote—become something. I’m sorry, honey. You can’t move up in the world without sacrifices.”
“That’s true,” Helena agreed with a nod, the guitar introduction of Bon Jovi’s “Keep the Faith” filling the air. “Oh…” she gasped, settling her gaze on the entrance to the right. “You’re never going to guess who just walked in.”
I turned my head in the direction she was looking, full of curiosity. The overhead spotlights revealed an imposing figure in a pair of jeans and a black, leather jacket. His short beard and his swagger served as clearer hints. It was Donny…
Feelings of tension and excitement collided within me. On the one hand, I would have loved to run out of there and not look back. We hadn’t communicated at all since the night we spent in his apartment. On the other hand, though, I was happy to see the man who had given me some of the steamiest moments of my life. As the seconds rolled by, I realized that the second feeling would dictate my actions.
“Hey, stranger,” I smiled and raised my glass to him. “How are you doing?”
“Hi, girls.” He tipped his head down and then looked at the barmaid. “Double Jack, Julia. Leave the bottle.”
“Not so well I suppose,” Helena interjected, flashing me a glance of concern.
“You’re right, red,” Donny said, standing between our stools. “Hey, can you…?” He paused. “Nah, screw that.” He waved his hand in front of his face. “You know pretty much everything about us. Someone tried to take us out tonight.”
“Wow…” I snorted in amusement. “You? The henchmen? That’s madness!”
“It was different this time,” he claimed, wrapping his fingers around his glass. Downing his drink, he slammed it back down onto the counter. “The shooter used a machine gun. He could have blown our heads clean off.”
“Yeah, but no one got hurt,” I told him, losing the desire to tease him further. “Did they?”
“No. We all survived without a scratch,” Donny murmured, not taking his eyes off the bottle. “I’m still a little shook up, though.”
“Pardon me for intervening, but who are you referring to?” Helena asked in her typical, calm voice.
“Joe, Bryan, his cousin Jimmy and me,” he went on, sipping some more whiskey. “We were at Jimmy’s place when someone shot it to hell.”
I reached forward and rubbed his forearm. “What can I do to help?”
“Give me a smile,” he requested, focusing his gaze on me. I obliged him, running my fingers up and down his entire arm. “There. I feel a lot better now. Thanks.” He attempted a sweeter tone, returning the smile.
“Very sweet,” Helena silently mouthed and then curled her index finger towards me. I leaned over, holding on to the edge of the counter. “I’m going to take off. Spend some time with him. He needs someone to talk to,” she whispered in my ear.
“Have a good night, you two.” She offered him and me a polite smile and got off her stool.
“Just how tall is she?” I didn’t appreciate Donny’s next question.
“Five-eleven. Why?”
“That’s hot.” He commented with a wicked smile.
“Really?” I raised an eyebrow, even more annoyed. “Is she hotter than me?”
“Whoa!” Donn
y exclaimed, his smile broadening to a grin. “What’s the matter? Are you jealous?”
“You didn’t answer my question,” I replied, my tone firmer.
“No, she’s not.” His silly expression vaporized. “I’d have to bust my butt trying to find someone hotter than you. Now you answer mine.”
“Alright. I did get jealous,” I admitted, inching closer to him. “I want the man I went wild with the other day all to myself. Is that bad?”
“Yeah.” The word flew out of his mouth. “But you know what? I can’t have that conversation right now. I can’t stop thinking about the attack.”
“So, you mean to tell me that the mighty Donny Falcone got scared tonight?” I spoke in ironic tones. “I thought you and your buddies were used to getting shot at.”
“Let me describe a machine gun bullet to you,” he suggested, before downing yet another glass of whiskey. “It’s almost five inches long and half an inch thick. Get one of those in the neck, and you’ll choke on your own blood. Get two of those in the neck, and you’ll lose your head. It’s that simple.”
“Oh…” I gasped in surprise. “I’m sorry. I thought you were exaggerating.”
“Why would I?” He rolled his shoulders and looked away from me. “I’m done for tonight. I need to go find a hotel. Those pricks could be waiting for me at my apartment. Thanks for the company.”
“You can sleep at my place.” The words slipped out of my mouth.
“Sleep? Are you sure?” He wondered, furrowing his brow. “Because the last time you and I were alone, we didn’t get much sleep.”
“I’ll be nice. I promise,” I declared, unable to believe my own words. I had been thinking about us for days. Donny wasn’t a decent man, but he was a fantastic lover. I would take advantage of every chance I could get to have him, even if he played hard to get. Unbeknownst to him, this sort of denial turned me on.
