31 Kisses

by Sonya Jesus

  Fuck, that’s cold. A shiver runs down my body as I crawl over to the ladder. I put the small heating pack inside my glove and then climb down quietly. I can see my targets in the second-floor window. Dan’s zipping up Alexa’s dress. They’re mouths are moving fast, like they’re arguing about something. She turns around and faces him, hands flailing in the air as she screams.

  I take the momentary distraction and head for the back door.

  It’s unlocked, but I jimmy the lock anyway—staging the scene before entering—and ducking into the small space with the coat hanger. The lights are off here, but I can see the outlines of what looks like a laundry room from the light under the door.

  I step closer, being as quite as possible.

  She shouts from somewhere upstairs. “What are you doing?” he growls.

  “I’m calling Beneventi and getting the reward money.”

  The Beneventi name stirs my curiosity.

  “You said you were done with the Beneventis, Alexa.”

  “One call, Dan, and we can have enough money to pay off our mortgage. We’ve been struggling since you got kicked off the force.”

  “Here you go again with that fucking blame game. Do you have nothing more important to do than piss me off? This if fucking ridiculous.”

  “Well, we’re about a month away from being foreclosed and the car repoed. You want to offer some better solutions? Or you want to gamble away the coins in the girls’ piggy banks instead?”

  There’s a long pause. I had not known he had a gambling problem. I get a grip on my gun and listen for footsteps. There aren’t any.

  Dan asks, “How do you even know the kid is still alive?”

  I open the laundry room door and tiptoe to the modern floating stair case. I duck underneath it and press my back against the wall. I can point my gun between the steps and shoot the couple at the door from here. I have to be quick though. Dan first then Alexa. She’s had less training.

  I screw on the silencer.

  “I found him. Look…I was scrolling through my feed and this pops up. Doesn’t he look just like West at that age?”

  “Yes.”

  “See. What if this is the boy Breaker put feelers out about?”

  “So, you want to trade the kid’s life for a couple hundred grand?”

  “He’s going to die anyway. Why not collect on it?” She comes down the steps first. He follows. I look up and get a sturdy grip on my weapon.

  “Because despite all the shit that went down, West was our friend.”

  “Well, West is dead. We owe him no obligations. I’m calling Beneventi and telling him he goes to FHU.”

  “Forrest Hill?” I whisper into the air, soft enough that they don’t make it out, but enough to alert them. They’re standing in front of the door.

  “Did you hear that?” Dan says as he looks around the room.

  I aim for Alexa.

  “It came from the kitchen.” He leans to the side to check.

  Finger on the trigger.

  She waves her hand dismissively. “The cat is probably on top of the table eating the rest of the salmon.” She points toward the window. “Cheryl will be her to pick us up in a couple minutes.”

  “Shit,” I whisper.

  She looks down at her watch. When she glances up out of reflex, she sees the barrel of my gun. “D—”

  Bang.

  The silencer is quiet, but not inaudible.

  Dan turns to his wife just as she collapses. His arms stretch out to catch her.

  I put a bullet in his ear before he can scream her name.

  Headlights fill the front window. Shit. Someone’s pulling into the driveway. I step out from under the stairs and leave out the same way I came from. Without the phone that had Jason West’s picture on it.

  Foxy’s nibbling on my coffee table like it’s a chew toy. “Stop that!” I scold her and swat the air around her, trying to get her attention. She growls at me and then continues on attacking the wood. Whatever. The effort it would take to redirect her attention isn’t worth it. I sprawl out on my couch and bury my head into the pillow. I ended up attending the midnight mass at West Bumble Fuck, New Jersey last night while the woman, who was picking up the Morgans saw the blood through the window.

  The small town assembled at the church and the one-hour mass turned into a three-hour prayer vigil for the family. Over four hundred people showed up from all the surrounding counties, so I blended in while people weeped for the Morgans.

  I finally skipped out and called an Uber to pick me up, so it looked like I got a ride from a friend. People never suspect women, and thanks to our friends on the force, the one piece of hair they found under the staircase turned out to be from one of the girls’ dolls.

  I haven’t slept a fucking wink since then. It’s all over the news, but I made sure to get out of there before the cameras showed. It’s four in the afternoon and I’m dreading Christmas dinner with Breaker and my uncle. They’re going to chew me out for carelessness, but this is what they get when they order rush jobs.

  At least I have a lead. Jason West goes to Forrest Hill. Now I just need a picture of his father and maybe Stone can help me or Hayden. I shut my eyes and think of my boyfriend and to spending Christmas night with him.

  Spending some time with him will definitely ease my soul. I’m almost lulled to sleep by thoughts of him when Foxy starts barking and growling at the front door. A knock comes a moment later.

  “Damn it,” I say, rolling myself off the couch and onto my feet. I raise my voice and ask, “Who is it?”

  “Stone.”

  Hmm. This day just keeps getting better, doesn’t it? I throw the door open and block Foxy when she tries to escape. “Merry Christmas.”

  “You got a dog?” he asks as he steps inside

  “Why does that surprise everyone?” I swing the door shut and turn to face him. “What are you doing here?” I set Foxy down.

  She runs over to Stone, who is helping himself to my fridge.

  He doesn’t bother turning around to face me. “Want to tell my why my best friend is looking up my dead egg donor on my laptop?”

  “What?” I stride toward the small kitchen area. “He googled your mom?”

  Stone winces. “I checked my browser history. He’s reading some chick’s mafia blog about the Fontana and Santarossa feud. What the hell did you tell him?”

  “That I’d be his girlfriend. That’s it.”

  He slams the door shut, finally deeming me worthy to look in the eye. “You kill that couple on Christmas Eve?”

  I pop my shoulder and avert my gaze. “They were on the list.”

  “You made their girls orphans. I thought you’d at least feel guilty about that.”

  “I don’t. They’re probably better off.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes really.”

  “That’s what I’m worried about. The lack of guilt.”

  I can’t win with these guys. “They were going to trade someone’s life for two hundred thousand dollars. If you ask me, I gave them the chance at better parents.”

  “Yeah,” he says, grabbing a bottle of water from the counter. “Do you think my father’s a better parent than your dad?”

  “No,” I admit. I cross my arms. “What are you doing, Stone? Come all the way over to annoy the shit out of me?”

  “I’m here because I want to talk to you about Hayden.”

  “I can protect Hayden.” I tug on my ponytail and smooth the hair. “I wouldn’t have to be doing this so quickly if you’d just talk to your father.”

  “I will.”

  Oh. “Then I guess there’s no reason to take Hayden to the party.”

  “I’ll warn Stone to leave Hayden out of this, but you what’s the good in that? You’re just going to keep dragging him in a little at a time.”

  I don’t dignify him with an answer.

  “Any chance I can get you to stay away from him now that your list is almost over? You won�
�t need me to cover for you anymore.”

  I sigh and pinch the bridge of my nose. I can’t do that anymore. “I wanted to stay away, but I need him.”

  “You need him?” he echoes back with surprise in his tone.

  “I love him, Stone.”

  “Yeah, I figured that much out.” He picks up Foxy and walks over to my couch. “I was hoping you’d love him enough to set him free.”

  “I can’t anymore.” I try to reason with him and my conscience. “They won’t hurt him if they fear retaliation from me. You, your dad, and Breaker are my family. Deep down… way deep down for some of you…I think there are limits. You don’t kill your own, right?”

  “Unless there’s betrayal in the middle.”

  “Why would there be any of that? I can’t fucking stand Breaker, and no offense, kissing you wasn’t the most memorable moment of my life.”

  He smiles. “Stop lying, I was the best first kiss you ever had.”

  I giggle. “Truth. Better you than the Cabrali twins.”

  He shivers. “Magdalena and Santi. Don’t remind me.”

  “See. Why would there ever be betrayal between the last Salvatore and the Beneventis?”

  He glances at the couch and raises his brows. He makes a show of exhaling loudly. “You should know something.”

  The seriousness in his voice stills me. “About who?”

  “About your father.” He cocks his head. “You might want to sit for this.”

  I hesitantly saunter over to the couch and take the opposite end. I fold one foot under my thigh and face him. “You’re freaking me out with all this seriousness.”

  “Laura, when she died, told me a secret.” He still hates her so much he doesn’t call her mom.

  “Yeah, I heard.” His mom was a bitch and decided to leave chaos after she died. “Is this why you stay away from your family?”

  “Some of it is.” He mimics my position, and throws one arm over the back of the couch. Foxy runs from his lap over to mine. “Laura was working with the FBI.”

  I gawk at him. “She was a rat?”

  He nods his head. “So was your father.”

  “No.” I don’t believe that.

  “And Robert West was the man helping them get out with immunity. When my father found out that West was a cop, he put a hit out on him and his family. Your father rigged the car, and Laura was supposed to intercept the wife and kid before they got into the car. They were going to stage it so that the Wests died, but she got there too late. She didn’t realize the kid was alive until she saw him running for the car.”

  “Why would they turn on Costa?”

  “Because he was doing something that would get everyone killed.”

  “What things?”

  “Laura didn’t tell me specifics. She just said my dad wanted to lead the Commission, so he started rigging the odds in his favor. He just never got around to finishing it because of West.”

  “Because of the flash drive?”

  “Father’s scared of what’s on there.”

  “I still can’t believe my dad would do that.”

  “My mom loved your dad. There was a time when he wanted to put an end to it, but West and his partner threatened to expose their affair, so they fed him information until they died.” He stops and then adds, “It would have been nice if she didn’t fucking kill herself after.”

  “Breaker mentioned the drive. Your dad insists on me finishing the list, so no one can question Breaker taking the lead. Number thirty-one, I’ve been looking for him and I finally have a lead. He goes to Forrest Hill.”

  He sighs and chews on his inner lip. “Fuck.” He drags his hand over his face and rubs at his cheeks. “I don’t want it done at the school, but we need to get our hands on the fucking information. It’s our way out of all of this.”

  “I thought you would ask me not to do it at all.”

  “I just don’t want any of this in my life. I’ll be far away from here after graduation.” He stands up and pulls out an envelope from his pocket. “You weren’t there that night. She left this for you.”

  I reach for it and read my name written out on the front, noting that the letter is open. “What is it?”

  “It’s your secret: one for me, one for Breaker, and one for you for some reason. She told me to read it and give it to you when I thought you were ready for it.”

  “Ready for it?” I lower my gaze to the envelope in my hand. “How bad is it.”

  “That’s for you to decide. When Breaker threw me off the porch because I wouldn’t tell him any of the secrets, I figured it was time to read what was in there.”

  I flick it open and scoff, “Your mom really knew how to fuck shit up.”

  He points to the door. “I’m going to head out. Call me if you need to vent, or strategize.”

  I open the envelope.

  There are two facts written on the index card.

  I read the first one and kick the table over. I read the second one, grab my gun, and head for the main house.

  I’m sick to my stomach. The thought of putting anything in my mouth revolts me and upsets the gentle balance of my digestion, but I have to sit down and share a table with the people who claim to love me. I’d rather starve than pretend like my insides aren’t violently rebelling at the mere thought of being here. I look my uncle in the eye. He smiles gently at me, not at all the monster who viciously ordered my father’s death.

  I keep my head steady. If my lips move, it’ll be to sneer or say something that will get someone killed. Preferably, the man who tricked me into avenging my father’s murder when he ordered the fucking hit.

  How could I have been so stupid? Here I thought my dad found West and went to take him out, and instead he was feeding him information. If he weren’t my dad and I were my uncle, I would’ve had him followed and murdered right there, taking both men out.

  My cheeks are cold, but the space in my chest is on fire. Trying to feign merriment and holiday cheer isn’t exactly in my repertoire, but revenge is.

  Bullets are.

  Clean through shots that end lives are.

  I glance around the over-decorated house. I can strangle someone with the garlands, shove the tinsel down people’s throats and make them choke on it. The ornament balls are useless, unless they’re made of glass, then I could break them into pieces and slice some major arteries until I decorated the room with a different kind of ruby cheer.

  “Are they going to take much longer?” Breaker asks, dismissing the waiter from his side after asking for some aperitif mixture with Campari. Unlike my uncle, Breaker wears his irritation all over his face, his clothes, even his words. We’ve been waiting for over forty-five minutes and each minute he’s growing restless for Uncle Costa’s promised surprise.

  I pry my eyes off of the decorations and glare at the fire, pretending to be lost in the beauty of Christmas. “What is the surprise, Uncle?” I can’t handle anymore Beneventi surprises.

  “Patience,” he says nonchalantly.

  “It’s a gift.” Breaker grits out, catching my attention.

  I swivel the contents of my glass around and hold it up to him in toast. “Well, looks like you know more than I do.”

  “Maybe we can talk about Stone, though?” Breaker whips out his phone and scrolls to the message. He holds the phone out in front of me so I can see the conversation. There isn’t much. Just two messages.

  Stone sent: You fucking asshole. This is all about getting me there, isn’t it? You win.

  Breaker responded: Fuck you and Merry Christmas, lil bro.

  “You should really work on your bedside manner.”

  “Oh, right… because your bedside manner is better? Fuck him or befriend them, before popping them in the head. You really do have a fascination with head, don’t you? Maybe I should put your services—”

  Oh, my God. I’m going to puke all over this room if he even refers to his dick again. At least I know he’s in the dark about some things.<
br />
  “Enough!”

  Both of us look at the angry face of the man sitting at the head of the table. He coughs and heaves his breath from exertion, but quickly recomposes himself. For someone who is decomposing on the inside, he still looks ferocious. His eyes are glued to Breaker in warning, but I know the real reason why the Catholic mob king looks about ready to hurl. I guess even backstabbing killers like him have scruples.

  “I will not have you disrespect this table with that mouth of yours. Save it for the strip club and don’t ever disrespect Kelsie again. You may not be blood, but I expect you to treat each other as such.”

  God damn. Even I’m impressed with how easily that lie rolled off his tongue. My drunken theory is based purely on speculation, but my gut tells me, I’m not wrong. The first secret on the card was You have a brother. However, short of a blood test, there’s no way to prove anything. I just have an eerie suspicion Breaker is that brother. Why else would his bitch mom tell me that? And since Uncle Costa’s getting rid of evidence, my hunch is he knows exactly who fathered Breaker.

  But all I have are hunches. Speculations.

  Taking on a mob boss, even though he’s near extinction, requires a little more proof. I came in here ready to shoot him, but I quelled my trigger finger—temporarily— and drank my anger in copious amounts of gin.

  A wicked grin claws its way across my face. I need information and I’m just tipsy enough to be able to pull this off.

  “Uncle Costa, it’s alright. I’m used to your sons hitting on me. We weren’t always family.”

  “You’ve always been family, Kelsie.” My heart pounds against my chest so hard that it hurts. He never treated me as anything less, but he killed my father. And lied. That nullifies every good deed he has ever done.

  I goad Breaker into sharing some of our youth by exchanging a mischievous look with him. “My father would have freaked if he knew half the shit that we did.”

  Breaker chuckles for the first time all afternoon. I never once touched Breaker, he and I never really clicked—I guess I know why now—but I kissed Stone and some of the other made men’s sons.