Redemption: Savage Duet: Part One

by Nicolina Martin

  I wanted to be smart about it, save her from Salvatore’s clutches, and see where it got me. Fucking nowhere.

  It’s two in the afternoon. She should be done at the center around five. She never stays late anymore, and never locks the place up, so I can’t catch her alone. I perk up as a maybe mad idea forms. I can simply go inside. She’s not bringing her gun there. And if she’s crazy enough to do that, she must have it locked up, anything else is unthinkable. What can she do? Call the cops on me? That wouldn’t get her anywhere.

  My restless energy gets the better of me and I start walking along the trail. The plane tickets are lost, of course. I’ll have to convince her to just come with me and we’ll hide away somewhere until I have made new arrangements.

  The center looks abandoned. I don’t see Kerry’s Vespa outside. She should be here. I frown as I push open the door and enter. It’s silent and appears worryingly empty.

  Suddenly I bump right into a young woman who comes darting around the corner. I’ve never seen her before. She almost falls on her butt and I have to grab her arm to steady her.

  “Sorry, I—”

  “I thought I heard the door. Who are you? No one’s here.”

  Her chest heaves as she glances around us. I realize I stand way too close and probably intimidate her like hell, so I take a step back.

  “It’s okay, I’m just looking for Kerry Jackson.”

  “Oh.” She takes me in and a blush spreads on her cheeks. “Ehmm, she doesn’t work here anymore,” she stutters and swallows loudly, pushing her fingers through her short dark hair.

  I take yet another step back. Something in me plummets to my feet. “What do you mean?”

  “She… she doesn’t work here anymore.”

  I dash forward and grab her arm before I can think. The girl yelps and I force myself to let go. “Since fucking when?”

  Her eyes widen as she staggers backward. “I think you should go.”

  “Since when?”

  She jerks as I roar at her, then whimpers and backs up, colliding with the wall.

  I hold out my hands. “I’m not gonna fucking hurt you.” I force my voice softer. “When did she quit?”

  “We got the call this morning,” she whispers, her lower lip trembling. “Kerry quit and on top of that, Chloe had to take a few days off, so they called me in.”

  Her eyes plead with me not to be bad, not to be what she fears I am, not to be dangerous. She is right, even though she doesn’t fully comprehend it. Something dark grows in me, a ragged ball of pain. I’m fucking furious, and a furious Christian Russo is bad news. I have no reason to take it out on this girl, though.

  “Did she say anything else?” I grit out.

  She swallows and shakes her head. “Nothing that I know of.”

  “Okay, fine.” I spin on my heels and stalk out of the building, cursing Kerry to Hell. Why the fuck does she have to make things so complicated? It’s as if she doesn’t want to live.

  I drive directly to her house and go knocking, wary of her neighbor. This time I have my gun. If he shows his face, he’s history.

  No one. Her Vespa stands meticulously locked up on the tiny front yard. I ring the bell. Try the door. Nothing. Taking a few steps back, I scan the windows. Everything looks abandoned. My chest tightens with a premonition, but I chase it off. She’s probably just out, groceries, or visiting someone. I’ll come back later tonight.

  When I pull up on my driveway, Eric sits on the stairs of my porch, leaning his elbows on his knees, looking beyond bored.

  I regard him warily as I step out and walk up to him.

  “What’s up?”

  “We’ve tried to reach you all fucking day. Did you turn off your phone, you fuck?”

  “I’ve been occupied.”

  He answers with a sneer. “Luci wants a word.”

  “Fine, I’ll call him.”

  “Now. As in, we’re going.”

  “Or what?”

  Eric raises his eyebrows. “What the fuck’s got you in a twist? Just go see your fucking uncle, man.”

  “Says his good little puppy.”

  Eric throws out his hands. “You either come with me, without a fuss, or the next visit won’t be as friendly.”

  I frown, weigh my options. “Fine. I’m going in my own car.”

  “No. I’m driving you.”

  I open my mouth to protest, but he interrupts me.

  “Just do it, Russo.”

  “All right.” I sigh. “Lead the way.”

  We drive in silence. Eric ignores me completely, hostility oozes off him.

  Salvatore sits on his back patio, catching the last rays of sun, a glass of red wine in his hand. No doubt from the mother country. He only drinks Italian.

  “Christian! My long-lost son. Have a seat!”

  I fall down on one of the chairs. The warmth in the air, and the stillness of his neatly trimmed garden is soothing, and I can’t help relaxing a bit, temporarily letting my troubles sink to the back of my mind. I have no idea why it was so important to get me here. A new mission I assume. If he’s sending me off somewhere, I’ll disappear. I’m not leaving San Francisco until I have Kerry.

  “What’s so important man?”

  “You’ve been unusually hard to catch today. What’s up?”

  “Just running some errands, is all.”

  He narrows his eyes. “Tell me, is the girl still alive?”

  I stiffen. We’re going there again? He’s not letting this go. I know he’ll be sending someone else for her. My time is really fucking short.

  “I’m on it.”

  “Your ‘on it’ seems to drag. Not very you to be so slow.”

  I’m silent. I don’t know how to respond to that. He’s right. I’ve worked with a machine’s efficiency my whole life. Up until the last couple of months.

  “She better be in one piece, nephew.” His voice grows darker, colder.

  I frown. “As it happens, she is. What are you saying?”

  “That you’re letting her go. You’re not to touch a hair on her head, or I’ll throw you in chains and send you off to your mama on the next flight to Chicago.”

  Confusion, and a spark of hope grows in me. “Why?”

  “She was here this morning, Christiano—”

  “What?”

  “She told me she’s carrying your child.”

  The hair rises on my nape. “What!”

  “Congratulations. You’re going to be a father.”

  I jump up from the chair, making it topple and fall back with a loud crash.

  “Well, it can happen when you don’t keep your dick in your pants,” he says with a short laugh. “I hope she was worth it, and in any case, we don’t kill family, so you’re not touching the girl, on the contrary, you’re gonna make sure she’s safe and well taken care of.”

  I pace back and forth, pushing my fingers through my hair. My heart pounds like crazy. She’s pregnant? I think back on our long night together. I came in her. Over and over. I just assumed she was on the fucking pill. Why didn’t she say something?

  “What the fuck?”

  “Are you hearing me loud and clear, Christian?”

  I stop and stare at him, then I nod. “Yeah. I won’t touch her. I’ve… I never meant to.” I lick my lips. “After I healed and got back on my feet, I knew I couldn’t hurt her.”

  “Hence the stalling?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Well. Just this once it turned out to be a good thing. Never fail me again, though.” His voice is ice cold, leaving no room for negotiation. He isn’t happy with me, that’s for sure.

  “What now?”

  “I’ll send someone for her. Not you, because she’ll never trust you again.”

  A stab of pain shoots through my chest. That hurt. I have to rectify that, make amends.

  “Who?” I grit out.

  “Nathan. Matteo. Someone who can keep their fucking cool. Now fuck off. Take a few days off. You’re a mess
.”

  “I don’t know where she is.”

  Salvatore whips his head in my direction. “What do you mean?”

  “I think she has disappeared.”

  Chapter 16

  Kerry

  I end up staying with Chloe’s cousin for three days. I don’t want to be rude, so I’m treading carefully when I ask him if I can clean up after myself before I leave. The way he lights up at my offer warms my heart, and I end up cleaning the whole place, except his gaming dungeon in the basement. I don’t even dare to look down there.

  I find a two-bedroom studio in the center of town, in a new apartment complex walking distance from the Navy Pier. Hiding in plain sight seems like the way to go. Lots of people around me, a guard at the door, alarms. The rent isn’t cheap, but it’s worth the money. I hope he won’t ever find me, but if he does, I’ll have taken all the measures I possibly can.

  Looking for a paid job feels meaningless at this point, but to keep my hands occupied I do volunteer work at a shelter for abused women. It seems fitting, and keeps me from dwelling.

  I need to furnish my place and make it feel like a home, and see if I can get a permit for a legal weapon. I’ve heard it’s near impossible in Chicago, so I don’t have much hope. There’s so much to do, but filling my days with practicalities drowns out the constant nagging worry in my chest.

  The women at the center teach me something I’d never have thought of myself. I pack myself an emergency bag. A phone that can’t be traced to me. Cash. Lots of cash. Some basic clothes and hygiene products. I can escape with a moment’s notice.

  Chicago is nothing like San Francisco. I feel like an alien. My belly swells. I’m thin as a stick, but the little girl in me takes what is needed and keeps growing. Oversized shirts and sweaters hide the state I’m in. In case anyone’s looking.

  Sitting in my new SUV at a red light by a large intersection, I see Christian for the first time. It’s been six months and four days since I fled my hometown.

  I always wondered if he would stay away. Or not.

  He’s in his car, a window rolled down, by the opposite side of the street.

  My heart speeds up so fast I nearly faint. It feels as if the skin on my back shrinks. As soon as it turns green, I step on it, weaving through the traffic, more concerned with what’s behind me than in front, and almost crash into the back of a truck.

  I’m eight months pregnant and nearly killed us after seeing a mere glimpse of her monster of a father.

  That night I cry bitter tears. Tears of fear, tears of a longing I had buried. I don’t know if I believe he’s going to kill me anymore. So much time has passed, and Salvatore didn’t want me killed, but I’ll never trust Christian again, and it hurts so bad.

  I don’t see him again.

  I live in limbo.

  My daughter kicks at my ribs and wants to get out. It’s time. Time for life to change again.

  Strangers’ hands on my naked body. The pressure builds and builds. My daughter wants to meet me, fighting to get out. I don’t need anesthesia. I brush them off when they try to convince me. Pain is my friend. Pain makes me float. Pain brings death, and now it also brings me life.

  A warm little body on my chest. A tired old soul peers at me with dark eyes. So tiny. So vulnerable. And I feel. Real joy. For the first time in nine months there’s something in me that isn’t only frozen fear. The love is instant, the connection unfathomably deep. It doesn’t matter how she came to be. She isn’t him.

  A tiny part inside has defrosted, the part reserved for Cecilia Jackson. There has never been a prouder mother walking the streets of Chicago.

  I call my mom. There has never been a happier grandmother. Or more confused. I have barely spoken to her, and I didn’t tell her I was pregnant. She vows to come, talks about moving here. I need to deflect that. I can’t have anyone from my old life be seen with me. Mom can never know the truth. No one will. The secrets I carry are too dangerous.

  A couple of times I’ve felt the skin on my back prickle. But I haven’t seen him, and I’m not sure I’m imagining things. Sometimes I want to see him. Sometimes I want to show him his incredibly beautiful daughter. Just once. Just to show him what he’s missing out in life. Sometimes I dream of him, of his hands on me, coaxing responses out of my body that make me wake squirming, flushed and with a deep feeling of regret.

  One day a decision is made for me again, flipping the little life I have on its head.

  A note on my kitchen table when I return home after a long walk with Cecilia.

  A note on my kitchen table.

  A note on my kitchen table with a phone number.

  ‘I’m sorry. In case you ever need me.’

  The realization that I need to leave town is made in seconds.

  I take out all the money I can get my hands on, cut my credit cards to pieces and ditch my phone. A neighbor helps me carry down a few items and load them.

  I leave two letters on the table. One for Chloe with instructions to sell my house, or rent it out. One for my mom, telling her I love her, and to not look for us. I think at least Chloe will read between the lines and understand what must have happened. Mom… Mom will be hurt, but I can’t think about that.

  At four in the morning, I buckle Cecilia up carefully next to me, grab my emergency bag, hop in the car and drive.

  I go north. I have no plan, I just drive. Maybe I’ll stop where the tank runs dry. I don’t know. No one checks me at the border to Canada. I cut my passport in pieces too and burn it.

  In a tiny town not far from the border, I find my sanctuary. I pay for my little house in cash. It doesn’t cost much. No one knows our real identities. For the first time in a very long while a sense of peace settles in me and I can breathe again.

  On a clear day I can see the US across the valley. I don’t look for it. I’m never going back.

  Christian

  Salvatore puts people on the lookout for Kerry, and it doesn’t take long until we track her down. She resurfaces in Chicago after three days, withdrawing money from an ATM. I almost laugh from the irony.

  Chicago.

  The home of the Russo/Salvatore clan. The city where our grandparents landed and worked themselves to an early death in a dirty factory, hoping to build a better life for their children, my mother Bianca, and her brother Luciano.

  It went to shit.

  Or not.

  Depending on how you consider a life in luxury built on filthy money, climbing to the top of the food chain over a growing pile of bodies.

  We’re not your average American family, but we are what we are. When my classmates played baseball and pulled girls’ braids, I learned how to shoot a gun. When I was a freshman in high school, I killed my first man. On Mom’s order.

  Yeah, not your average family.

  “She’s off limits to you, Christian.”

  Salvatore has brought us together for a dinner and a small family gathering. Nathan and Sydney have come all the way from their primary home in New Orleans. She’s a petite brunette with doe-like eyes, rocking a small baby bump. I can’t help stealing glances at her, at them holding hands, and fight the feeling of a serrated knife twisting in my chest at the thought of how I fucked it up. I’ll never have that. I had my first shot ever at meeting a woman I actually admired, respected, cared for, and I went and destroyed it fundamentally.

  Next to me sits my younger brother Matteo who has unexpectedly graced us with his presence, and at the foot of the table, opposite Luci, sits Mama Bianca Russo. Both have flown in from Chicago.

  Luca and Angela are missing. Luca is still only on the brink of getting into the business. He’s made some foolish decisions in the past, and Salvatore hasn’t forgotten them. Angela wouldn’t come even with a gun to her head.

  “Yeah,” I grit out, “you’ve made that clear.”

  Fuck me, I’m not staying away.

  “You went and screwed a hit?” Bianca’s voice cuts through the room like a diamond saw throu
gh glass.

  Nathan’s fiancée flinches. She’s not happy with what our family does, but she has chosen him, and she doesn’t have much choice. Like any of us.

  I open my mouth to retort, but Salvatore beats me to it.

  “Your boys have a healthy sexual appetite, nothing wrong with that. And he shoots sharp!” He barks out a laugh and slams his palm to the table, making the cutlery rattle.

  I exchange a glance with Bianca, hers disapproving as all hell.

  “It happened,” he continues. “Now, we do damage control.”

  Everybody looks at him, waiting for him to continue.

  “Matteo. Put one of your men to keep an eye on the girl. Make sure nothing happens to her. Anyone hurts her—” he shoots me a glance, “—you take them out.”

  “Got it,” says my brother.

  “Sydney!” Salvatore turns to her next.

  Nathan’s fiancée jumps at hearing her name. “Yes?”

  “You’re to befriend this girl, keep her close. You’ll have a baby soon, and so will she. You also have more than that in common—” he looks pointedly at Nathan and then at me, “—and I’m sure you’ll get along.”

  Sydney gapes, opening and closing her mouth. Nathan starts saying something, but she interrupts him.

  “I sort of wondered why I was here. Look, I’ve got a business to run. I can’t—”

  Salvatore waves dismissively. “That’ll be taken care of.”

  “I don’t work for you!”

  “See it as a favor to me for letting your man out of my… shadier side of business.”

  Her lips tighten into a thin white line as she glances at us all in turn.

  “I’m not doing it for you,” she finally says, “but I’ll do it for a scared lonely girl who happened upon a Russo.”

  She glares daggers at me, making me squirm. I had no idea Nathan had found a lady with so much bite. On the other hand, who else would have managed to capture his heart?

  Salvatore slams his hand on the table again, making everyone jump. “Excellent! I don’t give a fuck about your motive. Seems we have a plan. Everybody, for now, this stays between us in this room, in the immediate family, until we have it under control. And you—” he turns to me.