by Hamel, B. B.
“Two weeks after the story ran, she stabbed her cellmate to death with a shank she made from the handle of a toothbrush.”
I looked up from the Inquirer and met his gaze. He was frowning and shook his head slowly, lips curled inwards, eyebrows pulled down.
“What did you do?” I asked.
“Nothing,” he said. “I vowed never to get so close to a subject again, and I never did. She fooled me, Mona, because I was lonely and she was pretty. I was a stupid young man, and I let her trick me.”
“But maybe she didn’t trick you,” I said. “I mean, maybe she was wrong about being stable, but that doesn’t mean she lied.”
He smiled, just the barest hint of it. “I guess not. But, Mona, you sound like you’re getting close to this guy, and you need to be careful. He’s dangerous, he’s a killer, and you can’t let yourself forget that.”
“I know,” I said. “I know you’re right.”
“I can’t tell you what to do,” he said. “I can’t tell you to stay or to go to the police. I think no matter what you do, you need to be careful, because this man isn’t the sort of man you can just walk away from, in more ways than one.”
“You’re right,” I said, my voice flat and dull.
I suddenly wanted to get away from him, get away from the old man that was so far past his prime, that had made one mistake as a youth and thought everyone must be making that same mistake.
“Just be careful,” he said. “That’s all. If you can get out safely, do it. If you can’t, go to the police for help. I know people I can put you in contact with if you need it, and you can come stay with me if you have to hide out. Whatever you need, I’ll help you.”
I smiled at him and nodded. “I appreciate the offer,” I said. “But I’m going to see this thing through.”
He smiled back and put the paper back under his arm. “I had a feeling you would.”
He stood with a grunt and stretched his back. I watched him for a second, not sure what to think. I just told him that I witnessed a mob hit, that I saw men get murdered, and he wasn’t freaking out. If anything, he was much too calm.
“Thanks for talking to me,” I said. “I know this is a lot. I’m barely keeping it together.”
He nodded and looked straight ahead, out over the park, toward the kids playing on the swing sets, toward the couples sitting on blankets in the sun.
“You’re in the real shit now, Mona,” he said. “You have to decide what you want to be.”
I smiled a little. “That’s what he said, too,” I said.
Thomas looked at me and shook his head. “Then he’s smarter than I gave him credit for. At any rate, good luck. I’m just a phone call away if you need help.”
He turned and left without another word, one hand in his pocket, the other holding onto the paper tucked under his armpit.
I watched him go until he reached the path that led from the park. He disappeared around the corner, behind a grouping of trees, and I felt a strange, deep loss inside my chest.
At first, I wasn’t sure what I was feeling. But the longer I sat there and watched the world around me, watched the wind ripple the trees, watched a couple guys kick a soccer ball back and forth, watched a dad ride by on a bike with his young son on training wheels just behind him, I realized that I was mourning normalcy. I mourned a sense of being a part of the world as just a regular person, as a person that didn’t witness murders and still stick around, as a person that wasn’t attracted to a monster, as a person that wasn’t in the process of becoming something else, something harder, something darker.
But there I was, changing despite myself.
I stood and turned back toward the city, away from the park. I walked to the entrance at the far side and stepped back out onto the sidewalk, lingering in the shade of a tree. I could make a choice, I could go back to my old life and stay there. I knew Vince would let me go, even if the rest of his family wouldn’t be happy about it. I knew he wouldn’t let them touch me, even if they wanted to.
Or I could keep changing. I could embrace what I was.
I took a deep breath and headed down the block, back toward Vince’s house.
It took me a while to walk there. I took my time, watched a family move an old couch down to the curbside, watched a couple sit on a stoop and share a bottle of water, watched the city buzz around me with life.
I reached Vince’s door and knocked. I wasn’t sure why, I figured it wouldn’t be locked. But a few seconds later, it opened and he stood there staring out at me.
He looked surprised. He wore a light gray t-shirt over a pair of tight jeans, his muscles bulging, his hair pushed back.
“I’m back,” I said.
“Didn’t think you would be,” he said.
“Yeah, well, I decided I couldn’t just walk away from this.”
He smirked a little, tilted his head. “I got under your skin, huh?”
“No,” I said. “I just decided I have to follow through.”
“Yeah, all right. You tell yourself that.” He stepped aside. “Welcome home, little journalist.”
I bit my lip then stepped up and crossed the threshold.
17
Vince
That afternoon after my Mona came back, I piled her into a black SUV and drove over to my father’s place.
“Where’d you get the car?” she asked as I parked out front.
“I’ve got guys all over this city,” I said.
“Yeah, okay, but seriously.”
I laughed. “Had Dino drive it over,” I said.
“That’s what I figured.” She sighed and chewed her lip. “Why are we here?”
“Got to talk about what happened,” I said.
“And you’re bringing me?”
“You’re in the shit now,” I said. “Might as well embrace it. Come on, let’s go see what the old man thinks.”
I got out of the car and she followed. Roberto answered the door a moment after I knocked, which meant he’d been standing there waiting for us like a goddamn creep. We stepped into the entrance hall, into that absurd grandeur beneath the glittering chandelier nobody ever lit and walked down the hallway over plush carpeting and past heavy, expensive wood paneling. We reached my father’s study, Roberto knocked, and we were ushered inside.
My father paced along behind his desk, his hands behind his back. He turned as I approached, Mona just behind me, her hands clasped in front of her like a choir girl. My father’s eyes flashed to me then back to her, and his expression hardened.
“I didn’t expect you to bring her,” he said.
“She’s a part of this now,” I said. “Witnessed the whole thing.”
My father frowned then looked at me. “Are you okay?”
I waved a hand. “You know me. Bulletproof.”
“I know you think that, son. But nobody’s bulletproof.”
I took a seat in a chair in front of his deck. Mona lingered, moving from foot to foot, and my father stared at her.
“What about you?” he asked. “After what you witnessed, I’d guess you’re having some difficulties.”
“I’m handling it,” she said.
He cracked a smile. “I’m sure you are.”
“Do you know who came after us?” she asked.
He gestured at the chair next to mine. “Take a seat,” he said.
She hesitated then did as instructed. She sat up straight, her back rigid, her head held high. I raised an eyebrow at her, a little smile on my lips. She sat there like a queen addressing her subjects, and I had to admit she had an aura about her. Before, she’d been a scared, timid little mouse.
But there was a woman that could command a room.
My father seemed to notice it too. He frowned at her, tilted his head to one side like he was trying to decide what to make of her, then shook his head and let out a breath. He pulled back his own chair, sat down across from us, and leaned forward on his elbows.
“Do you have any idea how many p
hone calls I’ve gotten?” he asked.
I shrugged. “Twelve?”
“The fucking mayor,” he said, ignoring me. “The fucking chief of police. Even a couple of state goddamn senators. Do you have any clue how pissed they were?”
I spread my hands. “What was I supposed to do?” I asked. “I didn’t make the Jalisco come at me.”
“And yet they did,” my father said. “And you decided to kill them all.”
“Steven helped,” I said.
He glared at me. “Don’t bring Steven into this.”
“What do you want me to say?” I asked. “You should be angry with them, not with me.”
He clenched his jaw then smashed his hands flat down onto the desk. Mona jumped a little bit, and I could tell she was still on edge, despite the new confidence.
“I am angry with them,” he said. “Those little fuckers think they can break my plans just because it inconveniences them.”
“Seems like they’re right,” I said. “If you lose the Jalisco, the flow of heroin dries up. Not something we can really afford right now.”
My father shook his head. “I can’t let them push me around. If they start getting away with shit like that, every two-bit gang in this city’s going to go after my guys with impunity.”
“I doubt that,” I said. “But I hear what you’re saying.”
“We need to hurt them back,” my father said.
“And yet you can’t,” I said. “You need them. They’re good business.”
“Which is what pisses me off.” He shook his head and leaned back in his chair. “Things were going so well. We had a very good, very profitable arrangement.”
“But they saw the writing on the wall,” I said. “They know that if we join up with the Russians, our bargaining power will double. We can push them out of the city if we want to.”
“I don’t understand why we would,” he said. “We have every reason to keep our partnership strong.”
“And yet here we are.” I leaned forward. “Father, we can’t let this stand. You know that, right?”
He glared at me, his jaw working hard. “Of course not,” he said. “I’m already mobilizing my Capos.”
“War won’t be pretty,” I said. “The Jalisco won’t be happy about this.”
“There will be bodies,” my father said. “No getting around that.”
I nodded and we sat in silence for a few tense seconds. Mona shifted in her chair, moving side to side, before clearing her throat.
“What if you didn’t go to war?” she asked. “Ah, I mean, not violent war. But economic war instead?”
My father frowned at her like he’d forgotten she was there.
“What do you mean?” he asked.
“You can find another supplier,” she said. “Vince, don’t you use a different supplier up in New York?”
I nodded. “We go through a different cartel, that’s true.”
“Why not bring them down here?” she asked. “I’m sure that cartel would love to expand into new territory.”
I ran a hand along my cheek, feeling the stubble on my chin.
“Might work,” I said.
“They wouldn’t dare,” my father said. “If they came down here and started selling on Jalisco turf, it would spark an even bigger conflict.”
“Maybe,” I said. “But that conflict would take place down south in Mexico, and it would take place between them.”
My father grunted and looked at Mona. “Where’d you come up with this?” he asked.
“I just remembered that Vince built an entirely different network in New York,” she said. “And I figured he could use that network here.”
“I can make some calls,” I said. “But I don’t know if they’ll go for it.”
“If we do this, we may never be able to go back,” my father said. “We cross the Rubicon and things will never be the same.”
“Things change,” Mona said. “The Jalisco tried to kill us. I say, fuck them.”
My father blinked at her and I laughed. I couldn’t help myself.
“Strong words,” my father said.
“Damn right,” I said. “Fuck the Jalisco. What do you say? I can make the call.”
My father stared at Mona for nearly five seconds before slowly nodding his head.
“All right,” he said. “Let’s try it this way. See if we can’t avoid the worst of the bloodshed entirely.”
“Good.” I stood up. “And father, I was against allying with the Russians before. Now, I think we have to do it.”
“I think you’re right,” he said. “Those stupid bastards pushed us into it when we weren’t completely certain yet.”
“Just how things go,” I said.
Mona smiled at my father and inclined her head before standing and following me to the door. I let her out first and shut the door behind me.
I caught a glimpse of my father leaning back in his chair, his hands behind his head, his eyes tilted up toward the ceiling.
“Where’d you get the balls to speak up like that?” I asked Mona as we walked down the quiet hallway back toward the front entrance.
“I don’t know,” she said. “The idea hit me and I just… spoke up. I didn’t really think about it.” She moved closer, her shoulder brushing up against mine.
“Good,” I said. “Keep speaking up. I liked it.”
She smiled a little. “Really?”
“Really. It probably pissed my father off, but I’m not too worried about it.” I looked down at her and put an arm around her shoulder. I pulled her up against me and smirked as she bit her lip. “I thought it was fucking hot.”
“Oh, shut up,” she said, pushing me away.
I laughed and she smiled a little, her cheeks bright red. I drifted closer to her again, but this time I reached down and took her hand.
“I’m serious about this,” I said, stopping and staring into her dark, gorgeous eyes. “Speak your mind and don’t hold back. If you’re going to be a part of this, be a part of it.”
“I’ll try,” she said. “It’s kind of hard to picture helping a bunch of mobsters.”
I laughed. “You just did. So welcome to the family.”
She chewed on her lip and groaned. “Shit, I guess I didn’t think about it that way.”
“I know you’re supposed to be neutral, since you’re a reporter and all. But I’m glad you’re on our side.” I tugged her hand and began to walk again. She hurried to keep up, and I held her hand tight, pulling her close against me.
“I think I lost my neutrality a while back,” she said.
“I think you’re right.” I pulled her against me, turning her, pushing her back up against a wall. She let out a little breath as I kissed her neck, held her body against mine. “I think you lost it the second you let my tongue touch your skin.”
“Vince,” she whispered.
“Don’t say anything.” I let my lips brush against her cheek. “I don’t feel like discussing this anymore. You know what I want.”
She let out a little whimper as I kissed her.
Goddamn, that kiss was heaven. I’d been needing it, dreaming about it, yearning for it for so long. I let my tongue bask in her taste, in the golden delicious glow of her body. I grabbed her hips and pulled her tight against me, and she let out this little gasp, this little moan that made my cock stiffen against my jeans.
“Come here,” I said, tugging her away from the wall. We walked down the hallway and I stopped outside of a door, pulling it open.
“Wait,” she said. “We shouldn’t be in here.”
“This is my house,” I said, and pulled her into the room after me.
18
Mona
Vince closed the door behind us, turned something on the handle that clicked, and reached up to hit a light. The dark room filled with a gentle, soft glow from several lamps placed around the space, and I stood with my mouth hanging open for a few moments.
A pool table sat in the center
of the space, the felt a bright blue, the wooden frame richly carved with ivory and gold inlays. Several large, heavy brown recliners were lined up on the left side of the room, and a huge bookshelf stuffed with leather-bound books covered one entire wall. A complete bar was on the opposite wall, with actual stools and a huge assortment of bottles and taps. There were cigars lined up along the top of the bar, and the room smelled like old tobacco and worn-in belts.
“What is this?” I asked.
“Game room,” I said. “My father likes to bring his rich scumbag friends in here, impress them with his cigars and liquor, then kick their ass at pool and take their money.”
“He hustles people in pool?”
He laughed and shrugged. “I guess so. Never thought about it that way.”
“He pretends like he’s so frail,” I said.
“That’s true,” he said, and pulled me against him. “But it’s all an act, my darling. You’ll see that most of this bullshit is just for show.”
“What about you?” I asked, reaching up to touch his cheek. “How much of you are just for show?”
Another brief glimpse of that pain, deep behind his eyes.
“What you see is what you get with me,” he said. “Nothing special there.”
“Yeah,” I whispered. “You’re right. Nothing special.”
He pressed his lips against mine again and I let out a little purr. I couldn’t help myself, all the stress and fear I’d been feeling the last day crumbled and poured from my chest as he pushed me deep into the room. I stumble back as he kissed me, let him slide my blouse up over my head and toss it on the ground, let his lips kiss my neck.
There was a strange frenzy mixed with an odd tenderness to the way he touched me, like he wanted me so badly he couldn’t slow down, but he was afraid to hurt me. I got that sense whenever he was around me, like he wanted to show me what he could do, but he was afraid it would go too far.
I wanted him to go further.
I was in this. I was embracing it.
This was my future and I knew it. I didn’t want to turn my back on what I was becoming, and if that meant fucking Vince in his father’s game room, if that meant tasting him and letting him taste me, I wouldn’t stop.
