by Nova Rain
When he walks out of the cabin to go to the hospital, I think that my heart is going to explode. It’s only three miles away, but I know for a fact that the twenty minutes it’s going to take him to come back will be the longest of my whole life. Joe may believe that being a mobster’s daughter will devastate me; yet, he’s mistaken. Of course I won’t like it. It will break my heart. All the same, it doesn’t compare to the other truth that has been gnawing away at me for days. My mother, my own flesh and blood wasn’t completely honest with me. However pure her motives might have been, she shouldn’t have kept me in the dark. What would I do with this information? I don’t know, but that’s not the point, is it? She told me that my father was someone else. I guess that’s all that matters.
I go outside, hoping that some fresh air will help me relax. Noticing Joe’s faded blue Camaro on the road to the left, I suck in a deep breath. I can feel my knees shaking, the wind throwing my hair back. He turns left and into the lot as I swallow hard. The moment he steps out of the vehicle, I wish he could demonstrate some kind of emotion. Still, his expression is dead-serious; reminding me of the man that used to frequent the bar I work in. Joe hands me over a thick, white envelope, and then puts his hands on either hip.
“See it for yourself,” he utters, his tone firm. I pry the envelope open with fear-clumsy fingers. Unfolding the papers, I flip the pages frantically, my heart thumping against my chest. I see several diagrams with different colors, but I’m much too anxious to study even one of them. I skip to the last page, holding them out in front of me. The number in bold font at the bottom confirms my worst fears.
“Common DNA: 25%”
“No…” I whisper, waves of shock and disbelief shoot through my system; the envelope and the papers slip through my fingers; tears well up in my eyes as I lift my hands up to my face. A soft sob flees out of me when I sense moisture on my fingertips. Hundreds of questions rush into my mind in the blink of an eye, but trying to find an answer to even one of them sounds more like a Herculean feat. I feel like someone has ripped a hole in my chest, and I’m hundreds of miles away from the nearest hospital. Despair engulfs my heart, sending it into a downward spiral as tears begin to flow out of my eyes.
“It’s not the end of the world,” Joe speaks in a mellow tone, standing in front of me.
“Why?” I whisper, shaking my head in frustration. “Why would she do that to me?”
“Would you believe me now if I told you again?” he answers my question with a question of his own, his voice a touch louder. “Michelle…” he continues, reaching out and placing his hands on my shoulders. “You don’t know what your mother protected you from. You can’t know. No one can, unless they see it with their own two eyes. I can tell you a hundred stories about people who got chopped to pieces, because they made simple mistakes. And that’s just the start of it. There’s a hell of a lot more. When you’re calm, ask yourself this: ‘Would I be able to live with that burden?’ Because that’s what that name is, darling: a fucking burden.”
“Joe…” I breathe, sliding my hands down my cheeks. “I need to talk to Henry Cusack. He’s the only one who can give me some answers right now.”
“I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” he disagrees, intensifying his stare.
“My mom had been accusing that man of abandoning us as far back as I can remember.” I retort, still feeling the tremor in my legs. “I have his address, he lives in Queens. Can we please go find him?”
“Okay,” Joe gives a reluctant nod. A realization hits me upon his response. In this madness that I’ve been living in these days, an outlaw is my only ally. A man whose home I charged into is the single person that I can rely on. And I’m grateful to fate for bringing him into my life. He’s got more skeletons in his closet than I can count, he may be a devil in disguise, but without him, I doubt I would still be around.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Joe
Seeing the emotional wreck that Michelle is has me wondering whether growing up without any parents around was in fact a good thing. I know how betrayal feels. It cuts like a knife. It can come from pretty much anyone close to you, but ultimately, the pain is the same, because you’re not expecting it. If you did, you wouldn’t stick around to get hurt.
The long drive to the city seems endless. For mile after mile, she won’t open her mouth and lets out the occasional sob, her gaze fixed on the footwell. My beautiful brunette is a ghost of her former self. I try to remind her about whatever good her mother did for her, like raising her on her own and busting her butt to send her to college. It’s hopeless, though. Michelle won’t react to anything I say to her. It’s like I’m talking to a goddamn wall. She’s still fixated on the lie that she fed her. And by the looks of it, it will take her a while to get over it.
Pulling over at the address she gave me, I scan the neighborhood. It’s the usual street with parked cars on either side of the road, but it’s not packed with huge apartment buildings. On the contrary, there’s just one of those down at the corner. The rest of the buildings are large, single homes with lawns up front and their individual driveways. Without saying a word, Michelle grips the door handle and gets out of my car. I follow right behind her, watching as she makes her way towards the brown front door. Within moments though, we discover that we don’t have to knock. Moisture is lacing the air, as well as a rhythmic whistle and the sound of sprinklers. Looking back at me, she turns left.
“Go easy on him,” I advise her, my voice barely audible.
“I’ll try,” she whispers, slowing her pace. As we stroll into Cusack’s backyard, we find a tall, skinny man with a white, trimmed beard and a blue hose in his grasp, watering his plants.
“Good morning, Henry,” Michelle speaks, the deepness in her voice giving away her tension. “How have you been? It’s been a while.”
“Excuse me, do I know you?” He asks in a high-pitched tone, the corners of his eyes tightening.
“Yes, you do,” she replies, her feet bolted to the ground.
“I’m afraid you’ll have to help me out here,” Henry adds, tossing the hose down on the ground. “Who are you?”
“Take an educated guess,” dhe urges as I step beside her.
“Michelle?” He squints down at her. “Michelle, is that you?”
“Right,” She affirms with a nod. “I’ve had a pretty rough day, so, I’ll try to make this quick. Now, I know you were married to my mother once. I’ve got pictures of your wedding. She was pregnant when you married her, wasn’t she?”
“Yeah,” Henry admits, tearing his gaze away from her. “Your mom was working at a diner out on the interstate when I met her. I’d just retired from the marines. I courted her for about a week, but she wouldn’t budge. She wouldn’t say ‘why’ she wouldn’t go out with me. I found out about her pregnancy when I overheard her supervisor asking her when she was due. After I told her I was fine with it, everything became a lot easier. Marlene was a fine woman. Every time she walked into that diner, she drew men’s attention like magnet draws metal.”
“Okay, you lost me,” Michelle confesses, shrugging her shoulders. “You two got married, which means you agreed to raise me as your own. Clearly, you loved her. Why the hell did you walk out on us?”
“Oh, God…” Henry sighs, putting his lips together. “That was the hardest decision I’ve ever had to make.”
“Why’s that?”
“Because I was forced to,” he explains, his gaze shooting up to meet hers. “Back then, we were struggling to make ends meet. I was bouncing off jobs, and Marlene’s lousy paycheck could hardly cover basic expenses. One night, your father and his goons paid me a visit at the car dealership where I used to work. He said you were his. I didn’t believe him of course. Your mother had told me he was some lowlife who’d been shot dead. Then, he showed me naked pictures of her in bed and a copy of his will. He had two conditions: one; that you got your mother’s last name, and two; that I disappeared from your life altogether. I did
n’t accept the deal at first. I loved you and your mom. I couldn’t imagine my life without you. But then, he put a gun to my head. I never told Marlene any of this. I’m really sorry, Michelle.”
“Oh, my God…” Michelle heaves a long, heavy sigh, shaking her head in sadness.
“You could have told her about all this a long time ago,” I declare. “She just found out about her father. Eric Santone almost had her killed the other day.”
“I couldn’t do that, son,” Henry claims, his voice weakening. “Thomas’s men were watching my every move. After he died, I just assumed that her life was not in danger anymore.”
“Thanks, Henry,” she mutters under her breath. “Take care of yourself,” she goes on, turning her back on him. Once we’ve cleared the backyard, I take her by the hand, hoping that she’ll find some comfort in my gesture.
“I can’t believe that woman,” Michelle groans. “I mean, she just accepted the fact that he ditched her? She never contacted him again? I found out where he lives within minutes.”
“You should stop beating yourself up over this,” I suggest, strutting alongside her. “You can’t change anything. It’s water under the bridge.”
“What would you do if you were me?” she asks, throwing a swift glance up at me.
“Okay, it’d piss me off,” I admit, focusing my attention on her face. “But like I said, there’s nothing you can do about it. I tell you what. Is your friend Helena working tonight?”
“Not that I know of,” Michelle responds, shortening her strides. “Why?”
“You need to get this out of your system,” I explain, caressing her fingers. “Let me drive you down to her place. You guys catch up. I’ll drop by and pick you up later. How does that sound?”
“Fine,” she says on an exhale. “Let me call her first, see if she’ll be home tonight.”
My first thought is to try and comfort her. This has got to be one of the worst days of her whole life. Still, recalling her attitude during the trip to New York, I have a change of heart. I could talk for hours, and I would still not make her feel any better. She needs a friend now, and although I’d like to be that friend, I’m involved in this situation. Besides, I’ve got work to do, something that she doesn’t need to learn about just yet.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Joe
Much to my satisfaction, Helena turns out to be available. I take Michelle to her apartment in Brooklyn, and then head out and call Donny and Bryan. My girl’s predicament has been troubling me for days. The poor thing almost got blown to pieces, and she didn’t even know why she had been targeted. To top it all off, she has a maniac like Eric threatening to kill her, or at least she did, up until yesterday. I’ve been wondering about what I can do to help her, and I think I’ve found the way. My friends need to hear about my plan. It may be bold and risky, but I’ve forgotten the last time I didn’t include boldness and risk.
Two hours later, I buzz them in and leave my door open. Sitting on my couch, I pour myself some of my favorite “Jack Daniel’s” into a short glass while I wait for them to join me. Today wasn’t intense just for Michelle. It’s been more than ten hours since we got those DNA test results, and I can still feel the adrenaline running through my veins.
“Drinking alone? That’s not cool,” Donny complains, strolling into my living room.
“I second that,” Bryan voices his opinion, clicking the door shut. “You could have waited for us.”
“Stop bitching and start drinking,” I urge, pointing down at the two, empty glasses on the table. “Just don’t get drunk. I need you to hear about something.”
“Let me guess. That hot redhead wants my number,” Donny interjects, sitting down in the armchair on my right.
“I’m serious,” I state loudly, my voice firm. “Does either of you think that Eric will leave Michelle alone?”
“Isn’t that what he said yesterday?” Donny squints, leaning forward.
“Yeah, but that’s just temporary,” I remark as he pours whiskey into his glass. “How much time do you think she’s got left?”
“That depends on how quickly Eric can find a mole,” he tells me, lifting the glass up to his mouth.
“If he finds one at all,” Bryan says, thinking out loud. “It won’t be easy. We all know that.”
“I’m not going to leave her fate up to him, boys,” I say, glancing at Donny first and then at Bryan. “He’s a fucking psychopath.”
“I thought we’d agreed that taking him out was a bad idea,” Donny maintains, a touch of surprise in his voice.
“We’re not,” I shake my head sideways, once. “I’ve thought of something better. Do you remember that bank robbery we talked about in my cabin?”
“Yeah,” they both respond.
“Well, forget it,” I say in a bossy tone, downing the rest of my drink. “It’d be stupid of us to believe we can rob that bank in North Haven without getting Eric suspicious. He’ll know we did it the moment he hears about it. It’s dangerous, too. The cop station may be on the other side of town, but they’ll be there in a heartbeat. We were there the other day. Did you see any traffic? Because, I didn’t. Anyway, I want to use my cut to buy her freedom. You can all chip in if you like, but that’s up to you,”
“If we’re not robbing that bank, then what the hell are we robbing?” Donny wonders, disappointment sending his voice down an octave.
“An armored truck,” I inform him, tapping my fingers on my knee. “Think about it. It’s perfect. They’re always loaded with millions. By the time the cops hear about it, we’ll be miles and miles away.”
“I like it, but those things aren’t easy to crack, you know,” Bryan points out, raising his voice. “We’re talking about a large, sealed metal box. Their doors are fitted with slam locks. They don’t open from the outside. We’ll have to use a shitload of explosives to blow them up. We’ll risk burning the money.”
“That’s where your cousin Jimmy comes in,” I wink at him. “He’ll hack into the truck’s security system and disable those locks.”
“Are you done?” Donny interjects, his face twisting into an expression of anger and frustration. “You both failed to mention our biggest problem: truck itineraries. Truck drivers never use the same route twice. Even they don’t know their itinerary, until it’s handed to them by the company they work for.”
“Enter Jimmy again,” I retort, keeping my voice down. “He can hack into their database and steal the itinerary we’re interested in. That’s not our biggest issue, though. If we really want to make this the score of a lifetime, that money must come from a casino. Atlantic City is too close, and Vegas is just too goddamn far. It’ll take us three days to get to and back. What are we going to say to Eric, that we all got a cold at the same time?”
“Yeah, Vegas is definitely out,” Donny murmurs, pursing his lips. “Why don’t you want to go to Atlantic City? It’s just a couple of hours away.”
“Don’t say Eric is going to get suspicious again,” Bryan guesses what I have in mind before I get a chance to speak up.
“Won’t he?” I ask, staring into the void.
“You worry too much, big Joe,” Donny chuckles, his eyes glinting with amusement. “I think that chick’s messing with your head. She must be something. Old Joe wouldn’t give a fuck what Eric would do. So what if he suspects us? Don’t you think he’ll know when you give him that money?”
“Right,” I agree, puffing air out of my cheeks. “Boys, this is it. We pull this off, and we’ll never have to worry about money again.”
“I don’t know, man,” Donny frowns, scratching his jaw. “Don’t get me wrong, your idea is fucking brilliant, but I’m not sure if the money we steal is going to be enough for what you have in mind. Sure, armored trucks carry millions of dollars every day, but you can’t tempt Eric with a million bucks. That’s about the money he makes from selling meth in a month.”
“I know,” I sigh, running my hand through my hair. “Bryan, talk to
your cousin. Tell him there’s been a change of plans. We’ll meet up again when he’s ready.”
“You got it,” Bryan nods. “I sure hope this plan of yours works, man.”
“So do I, boys,” I croak, propping my elbow up on the armrest. “So do I.”
The image of a huge, white truck flashes into my mind, as my buddies leave me alone. The gaps on either side of the stacks of money are too narrow for a grown man to fit through them. Wishful thinking? I’m dreaming of something that’s almost impossible. Still, I can’t help it. This is exactly what I have to do. Otherwise, I won’t attempt such a heist. I’m not going to put my ass on the line for anything less than the amount I need to buy Michelle’s freedom.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Michelle
“You shacked up with an arch criminal, because his boss wanted to have you killed. Jesus Christ, Michelle…”
Helena has repeated pretty much the same sentence at least five times tonight, and it doesn’t look like she’s got any intention of stopping her judgment of me. To make matters worse, Ava was already there when Joe dropped me off. The doctor and the stripper make a great team. They are both just as blunt as the other, and they’ve been driving me crazy for more than an hour. I’m barely holding on to my temper. I can’t wait for Joe to come and pick me up.
“The criminal you mentioned has saved my life twice these days,” I remind her, gazing out her living room window.
“Michelle, take this from someone who’s met almost every lowlife in New York,” Ava states, sauntering towards me. “Whatever you have with this guy is doomed to end in tears. It looks like he cares, I give him that. He won’t want to end it, but he doesn’t dictate the terms for his life. Guys like him will always have a boss.”