by Webster, K
“Don’t you Jesus me, you Dr. Deal breaker! Now you listen to me. We had a deal. Me for them. And you’re gonna stick to it or I’m gonna make your life a living hell!”
He shoots up from his chair. “Oh yeah? And how’s that? Scare me into a heart attack with that makeup, already done. I’m busy, so if you can excuse—”
“I don’t think so, Death Trap. I want to see Luca. And I want to see him now. I want him unharmed and then we’re leaving. All of us. Even the goats.”
“You’re not taking anyone.”
“Yes, I am.”
“The hell you are! Everyone stays. Even my damn goats! You have no idea who you got yourself involved with! And to marry him! The risk you put yourself in. Now I’m forced to clean it all up. Forget about him.”
The nerve. A monster is right. I take a step closer to him and strangely I watch him cower a bit. Good. “You know what? I feel sorry for you. A lonely man, here on his farm, with no care or heart for anyone but himself. Unlike you, I was raised to love and have compassion. And you may not have anyone to show you love, but my momma raised me to be kind and treat others the way I would want to be treated. And I’ve always stuck to that motto because I loved my momma and she always knew best. But right now? I look at you, and I don’t think you deserve to be treated with any kindness. You do nothing but hurt people. Steal. Probably do murder people and bury them in your crops.”
“You been talking to that cuckoo next door. He has no—”
“I’ve been talking to you! I’ve been holding Lindsay while she cries her eyes out! Why is that? What did you do to her?” I demand.
He clears his throat, suddenly looking uncomfortable. “Nothing. Wha-What did she say I did?”
“She said you’re a monster. And you are! This game, whatever it is you’re playing, is over! I want Luca back here now—”
“That’s impossible!” he yells, shaking the ground below me. His fists slam onto his desk causing a picture frame to fall and shatter. “Last time I checked, I make the rules!”
“Well, your rules suck! They hurt people. Especially the ones I love.”
“You don’t love him. You barely know him.”
“I know that he’s shown me more heart and compassion in the past week than I’ve had in my entire life. I’ve never felt so alive and happy since my…” My lower lip shakes. NO. I refuse to show him my weakness. My back stiffens. “I do love him. Something you’ve never felt.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I sure do. I can see it in your eyes. Cold. Dead. Like your silly name. Is being a big bad mobster so lonely? No time for love? Maybe you should try a dating site and get a lady friend. My friend Dennis was telling me about places where you just swipe left or right. Stop being so grouchy and hateful and kidnapping people!”
“Get out of here. We’re done with this discussion—”
“No, we’re not. What, truth hurts? No one’s ever loved—”
“OUT! GET OUT! Before I drag you out of here!” He’s seething. But so am I. I’m not going to let him win. If he won’t stick to this deal, then I’ll just have to get Luca back myself. I’m resourceful and smart and I have love on my side. I give him one last evil stare before turning on my heel and storming out of his office.
Don’t worry, Luca. I’m coming for you.
Currently, the three of us are holed up in my room, all of Cala’s toys being used as a blueprint for our rescue mission.
“Okay, listen up. I know you think it’s best to wait until everyone goes down for the night, but I can’t wait that long knowing Luca may be in danger. So, this is the plan.” I point to Cala’s dollhouse, portraying the farmhouse. “From what you’ve said, Lindsay, Paul normally goes for a drive just before dinner.”
“I think he smokes or has a girlfriend. He always comes back smelling like perfume.” Cala giggles and I give her a wink.
“When he leaves, we’ll have you go and distract Death. Tell him you want to talk. Cry…do anything to get him to turn on his forgiving side.”
Lindsay’s eyes soften. Something’s definitely been going on between them while she’s been here, there’s no doubt. I just hope she’s able to step it up and turn her back on him when the time comes.
“So, then what are you going to do? We don’t know where they took Luca. He just said to the city property. That can be anywhere. It could take us forever to locate him. And his office is always super secure.”
“Leave that to me. While Paul leaves, you handle Death. I’ll just sneak in there and snoop.”
“Francis no, it’s too risky. If he catches you…”
“If he catches me, I’ll take the heat. But I have to get into his office and search for clues to where he may have Luca, because it may be our only chance at finding him.” Chandler yaps, agreeing with me. Lindsay looks unsure of the idea, but I don’t see any other way.
“So, everyone understands what they need to do?”
Lindsay nods and so does Cala.
Lindsey stands. “I’m going to sneak over to the neighbor’s and ask to borrow the keys to his car. That way, once we find the information, we can get the hell out of here. Can you keep an eye on Cala until I get back?”
Cala’s eyes light up, and I know she has another great idea on how to spend our time together. “Hide and go seek, Frannie!”
Hide and go seek it is.
Cala’s version of hide and go seek turns into hide and seek and tag and dance. If you get caught in your hiding spot you have the chance to run away, but if you’re tagged you must dance. I’ve been tagged four times. I’m starting to run out of spunk because this little girl is quick.
I’m running down the stairs as I watch her take a swift left. “I’m gonna catch you!” I holler, hearing her little giggle echo down the hallway.
“Nanabooobooo, no, you’re not!” she squeals, and I watch her disappear into the library. I try and slow my pace when I enter, but still manage to slip when making my turn. My socks on the wooden floor cause me to slide into the wall, but I catch myself as I run into the room.
“I’m gonna get you!” I playfully taunt and listen for her little laughter. I can’t help but laugh at myself at how much fun I’m having. I’m out of breath. My head turns to survey the room. “Come out, come out, wherever you are!”
Giggling sounds from behind the reading chair in the right corner and I spot her little feet. I tiptoe, pretending I don’t see her, and head to the matching chair in the other corner of the room. “Hmmmm… I smell a little girl…but I don’t see a little girl.” More giggling. “Maybe she’s under here!” I quickly tug up the rug, hearing her squeal causing myself to giggle. “Or how about…over here!” I stick my head behind the chair. Cala jumps and I whip my head in her direction. “Ah! I caught you!” I jump toward her just as she pops up in excitement, knocking an end table into the bookshelf. I quickly grab her just as a bunch of books fall from the shelf, almost smacking her in the head.
“Uh oh. Sorry, Francis. I didn’t mean to.”
I hug her to me. “It’s okay, honey. They’re just books. We’ll pick ’em up.” I bend down to scoop up the books and a bunch of papers and photos that fell out.
“Are we going to get in trouble?” she asks, biting her lower lip.
“Of course not. We’ll just stuff these photos back where…”
What…
My eyes start playing tricks on me.
My hand stalls in stuffing a photograph back into the book. I know the people in the photograph. Because it’s my mother and me as a baby. I’ve seen this before, but in my version, there isn’t a man in the photo. A man holding me. I try and shake off the confusion, but more questions arise as I flip to another one. One of Momma. And him. Another one of us, Momma holding up a sign in front of the antique shop. Another one of her and him in front of Miss Russet.
“What…”
My hands shake as I pick up a short letter and unfold it.
V
-
Please return to me. I can’t do this without you. She needs you too.
Always in my heart,
Layla
It’s my mother’s handwriting, I know it. The date is from twenty years ago. I was two. I scramble to open another one.
V-
I thought I saw you tonight. My heart is hurting. Please come home to me. We will figure it out. The only danger is my heart without you. She needs you.
Always in my heart,
Layla.
Why? Why? Why? I can barely open the last one, my hands are shaking terribly.
V-
This is my last letter to you. I’m ill. My heart can’t take this life, nor can the disease growing inside me. Soon I’ll be gone and she’ll be alone. If not for me, do it for her. She needs you.
Always in my heart,
Layla
The letter was dated two days before Momma died.
My world spins and I threaten to lose consciousness. My hand shoots out, catching myself as everything goes in and out. My chest feels heavy and I can’t breathe.
“Francis, are you okay?”
No.
No.
No.
My hand covers my heart.
I can’t breathe.
I can’t breathe.
I can’t breathe.
Cala runs out of the room and I faintly hear her calling for help. Please tell me this isn’t true.
“What’s happened? What’s wrong?” I hear his voice, laced with concern, boom through the room. It’s then I slowly turn to face him.
“Francis.” His tone is soft, his eyes screaming with guilt.
“You’re…my father?”
“Let me explain. There are reasons why—”
“You’ve been alive this whole time?”
He takes a cautious step closer to me, but I throw a hand out.
“You’ve been alive, knowing she spent her entire life pining for you? Loving you? You let her die without you!” I can barely hold myself up, so much confusion and anger are bulldozing through my mind.
“Francis—”
“She prayed every night for you. Every night. I never got it. I never understood how after so many years she couldn’t just let you go. Be at peace with your death. It was because she knew you were alive. And me… I didn’t know how to fix what was so broken inside her because I knew I couldn’t bring you back to her. Years, years!” I scream, crumbling the photo in my hand. “I thought it was me. I reminded her too much of you. Times when there was too much pain to look at me. Why?”
“Why?”
“Why did you leave her? Leave us?” I fight to breathe, grabbing at my stomach to coddle the blast of pain inside my chest. “She never truly lived without you. Did you know that? She spent her entire life trying to make me believe I was the only thing that mattered. But deep down it was always you. A man I thought left unwillingly because God took him.”
His shoulders slump, his chest going in and out, breathing deep. “I had to leave you two.”
“No one has to leave their family!” I yell.
“You were in danger. It was either risk them finding you and your mother and killing you both or leaving so you can have a life outside of the risks.”
“Risks? Risks!” I throw the letters at him. “Did you ever write her back? Even just once? Did you know she wrote in a journal every single night? Same paper as that. How many letters did she write you?”
His head bows.
“The night of the carnival. Was it you? Did she see you?”
His head lifts and the moment our eyes collide, my heart breaks in half. “Yes.” I exhale in a sorrowful choke. “I wanted to come back so bad. I missed you both. It was hell for me too. I stayed away because it was what needed to happen. I got weak that one time and it almost cost you both your life.”
“You cost her her life.”
He takes a step closer. “Francis.”
“She died without you!” My tears pour down my cheeks.
“Frannie, please. I didn’t know she was sick. I was away on business. She would always send the letters to the farm. By the time I got back here, it was too late. I would never have stayed away if I knew. I never would have…” He has to stop to rein in his own emotions. “I loved her. More than anything. I loved you both enough to walk away.”
“Well, I hate you. Hate you! You should never have come for me. I was just fine without you. I would have continued to be.”
“They found you. The bad men who I’ve been hiding you from found you. That’s why I brought you home.” His words threaten to knock me off my axis once again. This isn’t my home. My home is in Teterboro with my momma. “Before we settled you both in New Jersey, we lived here. Layla and I. We got married, built this house together, and bought a bunch of goats. Goddamn goats. That’s what your mother wanted.”
His words seep into my mind. Images. Conversations, the tiniest little clues that now make sense.
Once upon a time I had a library where I would sit and read for hours and get lost in the most magical fairy tales.
Don’t be silly, goats would make great pets. They actually have very charming personalities.
In another life we’d live on a farm. It’d be peaceful and we’d grow our own crops and not need anyone else but each other.
The whole time. She talked about this place. And I never knew.
I look around the room, picturing Momma sitting in the chair reading. Imagine her outside in the barn, petting Juniper or probably Juniper’s mom. Enjoying the wrap-around porch she always talked about.
“She…she…”
“She loved it here. So did you.”
I shake my head. “Stop. Stop! So what, now that my life’s in danger you feel you can just step up and be my father? And if I wasn’t in danger? Would you have ever come for me?”
He doesn’t need to answer for me to know that answer.
“Oh God.” I bend over, feeling sick. This is all too much. Too much.
“Francis—”
“Vinnie, sorry to interrupt.” Another henchman pops his head into the library.
“Not now, Harry.”
“But, Boss—”
“I said not now!”
“I know, Boss, but it’s bad.”
I lift my head to the man who entered just as Death whips around. “Spit it out and then get the fuck out of here.”
“We got the location. Rossi intercepted their car last night. Paul and Luca never made it to the city compound.”
Luca
Ka-Boom!
Nausea roils in my stomach and I dry heave. I can’t remember the last time I ate. No thanks to Mr. Death and his fucking minion Jean-Paul Van Damme. I groan and try to blink my eyes open, but one is half swelled shut. The scent of goat piss no longer fills my nostrils. No, this smells different. Familiar.
Oregano.
I’d know that filthy scent from anywhere.
A certain Atlantic City casino smelled like this shit.
“Psst, kid,” Paul hisses. “Wake up.”
“I’m awake, fucker.”
“Good,” he whispers. “We have to devise a plan.”
I crane my neck to seek out his voice. He’s sitting in a chair beside me, ropes securing him to it. Fuck. I knew I knew that scent. We’re screwed.
“Rossi,” I grumble. “They got me.”
“They got me as well,” he huffs, clearly pissed as fuck over this.
“Welcome to villain hell.” I roll my head on my shoulders, trying to loosen the kinks. “Where the hell are we?”
“An old warehouse in LA, not far from where I was going to take you,” he reveals. “Four blocks at most.”
“You must be so disappointed that badder guys thwarted your bad guy plans,” I deadpan. “Please, do tell me what I’m missing out on now that we’ve been sent off course. A vat of acid? Hang me by my toes and cut open my abdomen so my guts splatter the floor? Rabid dogs to eat me alive?”
&n
bsp; Paul’s lip curls up as though he’s disgusted. “Americans have sick imaginations.”
“Americans are realists. Also, we watch a lot of movies.”
He snorts. “I was going to hold you until Vinnie decided what he wanted to do. Contrary to your belief, I prefer not to hurt people. As Chuck Norris always says on his video blogs—”
“Oh, God, stop,” I groan. “I can only deal with crazy from one person and her dog. Everyone else can just fuck off with it. I’m maxed out.” My chest squeezes at the thought of Frannie all alone with that motherfucker. “Just…lie to me, man. Tell me he’s going to take care of her. At least I can die knowing that.”
Paul cocks his head to the side. “He is going to take care of her.”
“That was surprisingly convincing. Can you say it with a little more conviction, though? Add in some specific details to make it more real? What will her bedroom look like? Will the goats love her?” I close my eyes to imagine Frannie in her pretty yellow dress that belonged to her momma, my dog Bingster Boo tucked under her arm, frolicking amongst the goats. Maybe Cala and Lindsay are there, so she’s not lonely.
“It is his familial duty,” Paul reveals in an ominous tone.
My eyes snap open. “His motherfucking what?”
Paul nods. “Vincent has fathered the girl.”
“Wow, now those are some details, Van Damme, but stop. That’s over the top. Her father? Come the fuck on.” I huff and pull against the restraints, hoping to loosen them.
“Think about it, young man,” he says. “Do you find it strange that you suddenly had the urge to go all the way out to Atlantic City for no reason?”
That’s exactly what I think.
Though it’s not, is it?
The brochure came in the mail boasting of some hotshot casino out there that looked like easy pickings for a con man. I’d already fucked around in Vegas here and there with some success. It felt like destiny—and now that I have Frannie, I believe that—not some ultimate bad guy plan.
“I decided to go,” I tell him defiantly. “All on my own. Bubble burst. What now, Paul?”
“I put that brochure in your mailbox on Vinnie’s command. He’d been researching you for some time because he needed the right person to do the job. All you needed was a little push. The moment you bailed, he pounced on the girls.”