MOAN: The Cantonneli Mafia

by Sophia Gray

  I glared at him. “You had the energy ten minutes ago,” I said stiffly. The smell of sex still lingered in the car but I was already beginning to regret sleeping with Antonio again. I didn’t want him to see me vulnerable; I didn’t ever want him to know how much of an effect he had on me.

  “Will you shut up if I take you to my apartment?”

  I rolled my eyes. “Whatever, Antonio. I don’t care. Just take me home.”

  Antonio started the car and we drove away from the alley in silence. The bag of leftover steak between my feet shifted with every turn in the road – Antonio was driving faster and seemingly much more recklessly than usual. When he got on the highway, I felt the dreaded knot in my stomach.

  Antonio took an exit in an unfamiliar part of town. Soon, his car was crawling through streets edged with dark, crooked houses and vehicles propped up on cement blocks. We stopped at a corner and I shivered when I realized the closest house had no windows. I could see flames jumping inside, and I grabbed Antonio’s arm in fright.

  “Antonio, that house is on fire! We should call someone,” I said quickly, reaching into my bag and fumbling with my phone. “Those people could die!”

  “That house has been empty for years, Melinda,” Antonio said. His lips twisted into an unpleasant grimace. “Some homeless people must have broken in and started a fire to keep warm.”

  Even though the heat was blasting, I wrapped my arms around myself and shivered. “This is such a bad part of town,” I whispered as the car rolled down another silent, dark, and empty street. “What are we doing here?”

  “You said you wanted to see my apartment,” Antonio said tightly. There was no emotion in his voice and he was staring straight ahead through the windshield.

  I shivered again. “I didn’t think you lived here,” I said, glancing at the ruins of a brick house. The roof had fallen through, and the windows had only snaggled teeth of broken glass.

  Antonio didn’t turn his head. “Yeah, I bet you thought I lived in a palace just like you.”

  I frowned. “That’s not true,” I said quietly, though I wasn’t sure whether or not I was being honest with myself. I knew rationally that if Antonio was taking money from my father, that meant he wasn’t independently wealthy. But I hadn’t really considered how he lived. All I knew was that he had a nice car, a nice leather jacket, and plenty of cash when it came to buying me drinks at Hurricanes.

  Antonio pulled into a driveway and set the car in park. I peered intently at the house. Under the headlights, it looked kind of grimy and sad – but it was at least better than some of the other homes on the street. The windows all had matching shutters and there was a thick iron security door of intricate lace ironwork.

  The house was brick, painted white, and it looked old but not nearly as decrepit as the surrounding homes. Antonio got out of the car and slammed his door without a word. Part of me expected him to start yelling at me as soon as I climbed out, but, to my surprise, the air was cold and silent.

  “Come on,” Antonio said. He nodded his head towards the door. “Better not to stand out here gawking.”

  I stood and shivered silently as Antonio unlocked the metal security door. He swung it open and it creaked.

  “Is that what they call a speakeasy door?”

  Antonio gave me an odd look. “I swear, you say the weirdest shit sometimes,” he said. He pushed open the front door. “Where the hell did you even hear about those?”

  I shrugged then stepped into the dark foyer. “I don’t know,” I said, tapping my chin. “I probably heard Dad mention something like that before.”

  Antonio laughed dryly. “I don’t know,” he said. “I just know it’s necessary. My last place got broken into six times in a year. I can’t take that risk here.”

  He closed the door then felt for a switch on the wall. As light flooded the room, I saw there was a leather loveseat in front of an old antique trunk. A flat-screen television was fixed to the wall over an ancient-looking gas fireplace.

  I peered into the next room and saw a bed. There weren’t any doors, but the house was open, one room right after another.

  “This is nice,” I said tentatively, walking through the bedroom. The bed was unmade, but it looked comfortable, with soft dark sheets and a rumpled blanket towards the foot. The whole place smelled like Antonio – like musk and sweat and engine grease.

  The kitchen was small, but it wasn’t dirty. Some white dishes were on a drying rack next to the sink, and a large refrigerator was covered in stickers of motorcycles and a magnetic calendar that told me the local football schedule from three years before.

  “You want a drink?” Antonio tossed his jacket on the table and walked over to a little hutch. As I watched, he pulled out two heavy-looking rocks glasses and a bottle of cognac.

  I laughed.

  “What?” Antonio narrowed his eyes. “What did I do?”

  “Nothing,” I said. I took the offered glass of cognac and made a face before throwing the liquid down my throat. It didn’t taste as smooth as the stuff Dad bought, but I didn’t care.

  “No, what?”

  I shook my head. “It’s just, yeah, I can tell you work for my father.”

  I thought the comment would make Antonio laugh but instead he just sighed and flopped down on the couch.

  “This is nice,” I said, running my hand along the mantle above the fireplace. It was nice – it needed a new coat of paint, but, other than that, it wasn’t too bad.

  Antonio shrugged. “I guess,” he said. “The neighborhood is a shithole. I’ve been trying to flip this place, but no one wants to live here when the houses all look like that.” As he spoke, I saw his guard begin to come down and my heart swelled in my chest.

  Setting my glass down on the mantle, I sat next to Antonio and scooted close. “I don’t mind,” I said casually. “Like I said, I think it’s nice.”

  Antonio frowned. “I’m poor, Melinda,” he said. “I couldn’t ever give you the life you’re used to.” He still wasn’t looking at me.

  An uncomfortable, heavy feeling settled on my chest and I closed my eyes. “I don’t want to talk about the future right now,” I said. “Let’s just relax.”

  I thought the cognac would help, but I was still as tense as ever by the time Antonio finally dropped me off at home. I wished I could have known exactly what to say to make him feel better, but it was dawning on me that I barely knew Antonio at all

  Chapter 15

  Melinda

  The next day, I woke up feeling restless. Daddy was out at a business meeting, so I put my hair up in a bun, called Antonio, and went for a long run. Normally I hated working out, but sometimes I’d just get in these moods where almost anything else seemed like a horrible idea. I never stayed in these moods, of course, so I was pretty out of shape. After I’d been running for only five minutes, my chest was burning and my legs ached so much that I wanted to fall down and die right there.

  Antonio was slowly driving behind, keeping an eye on me. When I stopped, he pulled up alongside me. I could tell he was trying not to laugh, but his face was pinched and amused.

  “Don’t even start,” I groaned, holding up a hand as I flopped over and let my hands rest on my knees. “I can’t take it from you – not today, Antonio.”

  Antonio snickered. “Okay,” he said. “I won’t say anything.”

  There was a pause.

  “You want to keep running, or do you want a ride home?”

  I rolled my eyes before walking over to the car and opening the door. “That was a dumb idea,” I complained. “I don’t know why I felt like running. I hate running.”

  Antonio laughed again and I glared. “Sorry,” he said, pulling away from the curb and turning around in a driveway. “It’s just kind of funny. I really like running, but it took years to get there. For a long time, it just felt like punishing myself.”

  I sighed and laid my head against the window. The heat from my skin fogged up the glass, and I traced
circles and squiggles with my finger.

  “You hungry?”

  I shrugged. “More like bored,” I said. “You wanna come in for a little bit?”

  Antonio narrowed his eyes. “I don’t think Rodrigo wants you supervised at home,” he said darkly.

  “Dad’s out,” I chirped. “He had a meeting. I was home alone until I called you.” Being with Antonio was making me horny, as always, but I didn’t want to come onto him twice in a row. Last time, I’d almost embarrassed myself by practically jumping in his lap and wrapping around him like some kind of poison ivy. He’d gone along with it – I knew Antonio couldn’t resist me – but still, I’d really put myself out there.

  What was wrong with me? And here I was now, angling to get Antonio alone again. We’d never fucked in a bed before – I wondered what sex would be like outside of Antonio’s car.

  “Well, still,” Antonio said. “I could eat. You want some breakfast?”

  I sighed. “What’s wrong with my house? Why don’t you just want to come over? I can have Debra make us something,” I added. “She’s a good cook.”

  Antonio snickered. “Let the poor woman relax for once,” he said. He pulled into a burger joint and parked the car. “You want anything?”

  I frowned and shook my head. As soon as Antonio left and trotted inside, I regretted not asking him for something, but I didn’t have my phone with me and I was feeling too lazy to follow him inside. I felt weird, like there was something hidden between us – a secret growing and blossoming that was making it difficult to interact like normal. I wished he would just speak his mind!

  When Antonio came back ten minutes later, he was carrying two big cups of coffee and a bag that smelled heavenly.

  “Here,” Antonio said. He handed me a wrapped biscuit with bacon, egg, and cheese. “I figured you’d want a bite or two of mine and I don’t feel like sharing.”

  I took the food and unwrapped it, trying not to inhale the whole thing in one bite. “This smells incredible,” I admitted. “Thanks.”

  We chewed in silence. The scent of grease and cheese and meat mingled with the hot coffee, making the car smell like a diner. I didn’t mind – I was even kind of glad that I didn’t have to make conversation. When I finished, I wrapped the wax paper in a neat little ball and threw it back in the bag.

  “Just take me home,” I said with a yawn. “These carbs are making me feel tired.”

  Antonio raised an eyebrow. He hadn’t even eaten more than half of his sandwich yet. When he saw me eyeing it, he rolled his eyes and handed it over.

  “You can finish that,” Antonio said. “I had a feeling you’d be hungry after running.”

  “It’s embarrassing,” I said, taking a big bite of the biscuit and chewing loudly. “I’m so hungry right now! I wish I knew why.”

  “Pregnant?” Antonio smirked.

  The blood drained from my cheeks. “Jesus, I hope not,” I mumbled. “I mean, that’s impossible, right? You can’t get pregnant the first time you have sex.”

  Antonio rolled his eyes. “I’d like to have a talk with whoever tried to educate you about sex,” he said. He took a long swallow of coffee then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “I’m taking you home,” he said. “And I’m going to sleep for a while.”

  I pouted. “You can’t come inside? Not even for a little while?”

  God, what is wrong with me, I wondered as Antonio shook his head.

  “Nope,” Antonio said. He yawned. “Come on, Melinda. Be reasonable.”

  I glared at him. I hated the way our relationship twisted and shifted into something ugly and unreasonable every time we butted heads. But it wasn’t like I had anything to compare it with – I’d never had a boyfriend before.

  Thinking about Antonio and the word “boyfriend” in the same sentence was strange. I blushed, almost worried about Antonio being able to read my mind as he pulled up to the curb.

  “I wanna go dancing later,” I said as I climbed out of Antonio’s car clutching the remains of my coffee and Antonio’s biscuit. “Okay? To Hurricanes,” I added. “Like I’d go anywhere else.”

  Antonio rolled his eyes. “Okay, princess,” he said sarcastically. “I’ll call you when I wake up.”

  I slammed the door and walked up the drive, swinging my hips as seductively as I could manage. But by the time I was at the door, Antonio had driven away.

  The house was quiet. Debra was cleaning the kitchen and the only sound over the chirp of birds outside was the rhythmic scrubbing of her brush against the tiles.

  “Miss Melinda, your father called,” Debra said. “Mr. Rodrigo wants you to stay home tonight, okay?”

  I glared. “Did he say why?”

  “I did not ask Mr. Rodrigo for a reason,” Debra said sourly.

  “I know, I know, he’s your boss,” I mumbled. “Whatever, Debra.”

  I ran up the stairs and slammed the door. What was wrong with me? Why was I acting like such a spoiled brat today?

  And why didn’t Daddy want me to go out tonight?

  I called Cassandra. “We’re going to Hurricanes tonight,” I said. “I don’t care if you don’t want to. I’m going stir crazy. And bring Gloria.”

  Cassandra laughed. “You are so pushy,” she said. “Don’t you want to try somewhere new? Last time I was there, I saw that jerk Alexander.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Don’t be afraid of him,” I said. “He’s a little kid. He’s not even a real man.”

  Cassandra didn’t reply.

  “Cassandra? What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing,” she said quickly. “Yeah, okay. Antonio is coming, right?”

  “Of course,” I said. “Although my dad doesn’t actually want me leaving tonight. So it’ll be like old times.” A rush of nostalgia came over me and I closed my eyes, suddenly missing the old days where I’d spent most of my time sneaking out. It sounds silly, but everything was so much less complicated then. I’d never had to worry about Alexander…or Antonio.

  “Fine,” Cassandra said. “Gloria and I will meet you guys there around ten. That good?”

  I nodded, suddenly feeling tired. “Perfect. I’m gonna take a nap. Talk later.”

  “Love you,” Cassandra said.

  “Love you, too.” An unexpected tightness grabbed my throat and for a moment, I wanted to pour out of all of my secrets to my best friend, but I wouldn’t have even known how to start. Sure, Cassandra knew about me and. That was just the tip of the iceberg, though – how the hell was I going to tell her everything else?

  After we hung up, I took a hot shower and then crawled into bed. The quick workout and stomach full of greasy food had caught up with me, and my limbs felt heavy. I’d barely pulled the blankets up to my chin before I could feel myself drifting off to sleep.

  Chapter 16

  Melinda

  When I woke up, I was groggy and stiff. My bed was incredibly warm and comfortable, and, for a moment, I contemplated calling Cassandra and Antonio and telling them the plans were off. Then I remembered how awkward and quiet that morning had been, and I knew I had to do something that would give me an excuse to be around Antonio and try to figure out his true intentions.

  What would happen when Daddy decided I no longer needed a bodyguard? Would we be able to come clean about our relationship? Or was Antonio just using me for sex?

  These questions went around and around in my mind as did my makeup. I went for my usual dramatic look – big black wings of eyeliner, glittery shadow, and a bold matte lip with a dab of clear gloss in the center to make ample lips look even fuller.

  Antonio picked me up and we drove to Hurricanes in silence. I kept turning to him and thinking of something to say, but everything sounded stupid in my head. Everything sounded contrived and trite, like some dumb line from a movie.

  Do you like me? I wondered as Antonio parked outside of the club. How do you feel about me, Antonio? Really?

  Hurricanes was packed. Music thumped off the matte black walls and
ceiling, and I had to fight my way through a huge crowd to get a drink. Gloria and Cassandra were on the dance floor, bumping and grinding along to a popular rap song. They didn’t notice me until I was standing right in front of them, holding three tequila shots Antonio had just paid for.

  “Hey girl!” Cassandra wrapped her arms around my neck and pulled me close. “You look good!”

  “Thanks,” I called loudly.

  “Is Antonio here?”

  I nodded. When I turned around and tried to look for him, I realized the crowd was so packed I couldn’t even spot him. Hurricanes was a mass of bodies writhing and grinding under a disco ball of purple light. The bar was so crowded that I could only make out a sea of heads bobbing to the beat of the music.