End Game (A Dark Romance)

by Waltz, Vanessa

  Looking at her, I don’t feel like any of those. I just feel like scum.

  “Hanging out with you in Coney Island was the most fun I’ve had in ages. It was also my first time with you. I think about it a lot.”

  She blushes behind her drink as if she revealed too much, but I curl my arm around her back and bring her closer to me. She’s really smitten with me, isn’t she? A warm glow pulses in my chest when she leans her head on my shoulder. I haven’t had a girl like me like this in a long time. Most of the time, they would get clingy and overly emotional, sending me millions of texts a day until I blocked their numbers. The difference is that I like her company.

  Maybe I’m just attached to her as she is to me. I can finally sleep at night, knowing that I’m not alone.

  “Me too. I ruined my suit, but it was worth it. I got to have you all to myself for the night.”

  I trail my finger under her jaw and lift her head until her mouth points towards mine. The kiss is light at first, but she leans into me and deepens it. Something grows inside me—my chest expands and I feel incredibly warm, but it has nothing to do with the alcohol. I’m almost convinced she feels it, too. Her face radiates warmth as she pulls away, looking agonized and blissful at the same time.

  She touches my neck and I sigh at the contact. “Joe, you have to stop doing this to me.”

  Fucking hell. She looks so beautiful that I want to tear off her blouse and fuck her in this bar. “What?” I ask, distracted.

  “I told you I had feelings for you. You said you didn’t feel the same, and that’s fine, but—”

  I take her face in my hands, forcing her watery blue eyes to meet mine. “Marisa, I lied, okay?”

  Her tiny lips tremble with happiness. “Why would you—?”

  “Because I didn’t want to give you false hope, but I can’t stand it when you look at me like that.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like I’ve killed your dog.” I kiss her again, mentally berating myself for caving in so quickly. I force myself to pull away from her, to remind her that my words are worthless. “I can’t promise you anything, hon.” My thumbs stroke the sides of her face. “I wish I could, but I can’t.”

  “I understand.”

  The light in her eyes shifts and falls like burning coal, and my chest fills with a prickling sense of loss.

  * * *

  I sigh heavily in front of the wooden door.

  I really don’t want to do this. He doesn’t even know I’m coming. I could still leave, if I wanted.

  You know you can’t do that.

  Acid burns my throat as I knock on the door, my heart beating a little faster as it always does in anticipation for a fight. His wife, Adriana, answers the door. She’s dressed in casual clothes, her long brown hair tied in a high ponytail, which makes her normally beautiful features more severe.

  “Joe,” she says in a stiff voice.

  So he told her about our fight. Great.

  “Adriana, I’m just here to talk to Vincent.”

  She sucks in her breath, seething at me. “Get out of my face before I do something I regret.”

  Brown eyes blaze at me as I cross my arms, fighting the urge to laugh. She’s a bit of a spitfire, isn’t she? “I’m just here to apologize, I swear.”

  The door doesn’t move until I hear a familiar voice boom down the hall.

  “Let him in, Ade.”

  I give her a smirk. See? Your husband knows he’s a piece of shit.

  “Lay another hand on my husband, and I’ll kill you.”

  I bite my fist as I enter the foyer, a strangled laugh almost escaping my mouth. The idea of this girl hurting me is hilarious. Her fierce eyes narrow at my laughter and her mouth twists in rage.

  “Ade, stop it.” Vince’s voice sounds a little embarrassed.

  What kind of guy lets his wife dole out threats?

  I head towards his voice and see him lounging on his fancy grey couch, holding an ice pack to his head. He gives me a steely look. Adriana returns to his side, brushing the top of his head with her hand. She shoots me another sour look that I ignore.

  “You see what you did to him, you freaking jerk?”

  Vince gives me a horrified look and I burst into laughter, unable to keep it inside me anymore. The house echoes with the sound. I gasp for air, my hands on my knees as tears leak from my eyes. Even more hilarious is the palpable fury on her face and Vince’s red face.

  Who knew that tough-guy Vince is bullied by his own wife?

  An angry look darkens his face. “Adriana, back the fuck off! Will you please give us some privacy?”

  “We’re not done talking about this,” she hisses in his ear. Then she stalks past me, bumping into my shoulder as I continue to shake with laughter.

  “Laugh it up, asshole.” He shakes his head when she slams the bedroom door. “I love her, but sometimes I think she wants to rip my balls off. Fuck’s sake.”

  We share a smile and I walk over to the couch, sinking into its cushions. Another bubble of laughter threatens to escape when I see the bruise on his face. Fuck. I got him good.

  “Look, I just wanted to apologize for what I did. I was way out of line.”

  “Yeah, you were.” He glowers at me with his one eye, and tosses the bag on the coffee table, looking uncharacteristically troubled. “I’m sorry, too. I know I’m always breaking your balls. You just—you remind me a lot of myself. I’ve been treating you like a little brother, and I know it’s not right.”

  Seriously?

  The idea that Vince actually thinks of me as a little brother feels a little condescending, but it also surprises me in a way that makes me feel pretty damn awkward.

  “I’m sorry you had such shitty brothers.” I stand up from the couch, but Vince motions me back down. I sink back into the cushions with a sigh.

  “No, that’s not it,” he growls, quickly backtracking. “You’re not a little brother. I just see you making the same goddamn mistakes I did, and it drives me up the wall.”

  I’ve never seen him look so agitated. What the fuck is he talking about? My sister?

  I bury my face in my hands as heat burns my chest. Christ, I don’t want to talk about Janice. Not fucking now. Not again. I lift up my head and see him staring at me with a determined look on his face. Burying my resentment, I try to inject a grateful tone in my voice. “Whatever. I appreciate it.”

  “Do you love her?”

  What?

  I laugh at the question but at the same time, blood rushes to my face. I expect a wisecrack, a jibe, a smirk, but his face is dead serious. “Marisa? How the fuck should I know?”

  His voice drops and he glances to the door where his wife disappeared. “I was in the same position as you with Jack.”

  “Right.”

  “He told me to whack her.”

  My eyes feel dry and I lick my lips. I’m only vaguely familiar with the story. It happened not long after I was made. “Why?”

  He shakes his head as if throwing off an irritating fly. “It’s a long story, and it doesn’t matter. What does matter is that I sacrificed a lot and almost got killed, but I didn’t give a fuck because I loved her. I just hope that you’re not just protecting that broad out of kindness. We have no room for that in this business. Things might get ugly, and then you’ll have to make a choice. Just make sure it’s a choice you won’t regret.”

  I stare at him, open-mouthed. How did he know? How did he see the struggle raging inside me? Vince sinks back into his cushions and grabs the ice pack, holding it up to his face again. I want to ask him more about why he did what he did, but I don’t.

  “Adriana!” he bellows.

  She steps into the living room, looking extremely cross as she joins her husband on the couch and slides a hand over his thigh protectively. He turns his head and soothes her with a kiss.

  “He apologized, baby. There’s no need to look so pissed off.”

  Adriana responds to his lips, her face softening
as he strokes her arm. I wish there was something for me to do because I feel like I’m watching something private between them. My heart throbs against my chest as I watch them fawn over each other, and then I look away. Somehow, watching them together is like a knife twisting in my chest. My tongue curls against the bitter taste in my mouth.

  I don’t think I’ll ever have that.

  Vince’s abrasive voice snaps me out of it. “Could you get us drinks, please?”

  Suddenly, she stands up from the couch and gives him a withering look. “Get your own fucking drinks.”

  “Adriana!” His voice snaps like a whip and the fierce expression on her face falters.

  It’s like watching a battle of wills. Eventually, her glare drops and she turns to the kitchen. “What do you want?”

  “Get me a coke. Joe?”

  “Same.”

  Vince gives me a meaningful look as she turns her back: Women.

  We sip drinks on the coffee table, shooting bullshit as his wife gives terse responses. It’s been a long time since I’ve hung out with anyone casually. My sister’s death drove me into solitude and I shut everyone out. Only now do I understand how much that cost me. I feel relaxed. Content.

  Only…I wish she was here.

  What Vince said got me thinking. Now that I’m away from her, I do miss her. I want her beside me, if only to not feel so lonely as I do right now in their presence. Love her? I don’t know. I can’t answer that question. It scares me too much.

  My phone buzzes in my jacket and I pull it out without thinking.

  “This is Joe.”

  “Joe, you need to get over here right away.”

  Jack’s voice is panicked, fueled with rage. Vincent sees me tense and motions something. “Jack? What’s the matter?”

  “I can’t say on the phone. Just get to the club now. Where’s the girl?”

  Slowly, my insides turn to ice. “I left her with Ben. I’m at Vince’s.”

  “Perfect. Tell him to come, now.”

  * * *

  The dark carpet pulses with a throaty beat, and I feel it crawl up my leg, right inside my chest to pound like a second heart beat. Except, mine’s going much faster. I wipe my hands on my jeans as Vince walks beside me, just as tense.

  “What is this about?”

  “I have no idea. He just said to get over here immediately.”

  I feel like we keep having the same fucking conversation. I’m sure that whatever has Jack in such a panic has to do with Marisa, somehow. And it makes blood pound in my brain like a sledgehammer. Fucking hell, I’ve never felt like this before.

  Don’t show weakness.

  I walk around the cocktail waitresses and strippers in a haze, and I rip open the Employees Only door for Vince, who heads straight in. Inside the dark office, Jack and the other capos are already gathered. The scene looks tense.

  Jack’s dark eyes immediately zero in on me and his teeth clench together, his hair shaking with rage. “That fucking bitch sold the company.”

  “What?” It sounds like my voice, but it’s Vince’s.

  The guys surrounding Jack shoot accusatory glares at me. I walk to the pool table where Jack stands and look into his furious face.

  It’s just not possible.

  “There’s no fucking way, Jack. I’ve been with her all this time. How the fuck could she do that?”

  “You let her get under your skin, you fucking dumbass.” He grabs the collar of my shirt and shoves me hard. “How could you let this happen?”

  Vince approaches the pool table, looking shocked as he grabs the newspaper sitting on the table, announcing the sale of Worlds Casino to Lences Holdings.

  Holy shit.

  “Jack, I told you. I haven’t let her out of my sight. Not even to take a goddamn piss. How the fuck could she have gotten away with it?”

  He releases me, his rage dropping somewhat as he runs a hand through his gray hair. The boss of New York paces in front of me, thinking.

  “She still has her phone, doesn’t she? She might’ve convened with her board while you were out—while Ben was watching her. Useless prick.”

  That indeed must have been what happened. A hot rush of betrayal fills my cheeks as I look down at the newspaper, the angry bold letters proving that I was a moron to trust her. She did this behind my back—why?

  Why would she do this?

  Vince snatches it out of my hands and he hurls it back onto the table. “Fuck. We need to act fast. I want that Jamie cocksucker dead. I want his whole crew finished.” He slams his fists into the pool table. “We’re New York, for fuck’s sake! It’s time to put them back in their fucking place!”

  “I don’t think it’ll be that easy. Jamie’s a slippery fuck. We don’t even know where they hang out.”

  Jack moves closer to me. I’m still staring at the spot where the newspaper used to be. His oppressive presence fills me with dread; I don’t dare look at him because I’m afraid of what he’ll ask.

  “I want that bitch gone, Joey. Do it tonight and get rid of her.”

  The ground seems to fall beneath my feet. A swooping sense of horror vacuums the air from my lungs. My fingers dig into the felt. “No,” I say in a shaking voice. “No, I can’t do it.”

  He seizes my arm, his nails digging into my flesh. I’m barely able to register any pain at all. “She needs to go.”

  Suddenly, Vince is at my side. “Joe, let’s talk in the office.”

  His low voice gives me a spark of hope. Maybe he’ll know a way out of this. He said he went through the same thing, didn’t he? Jack nods and I numbly follow Vince into the office. When the door closes behind me, I fall into the chair in front of Vince’s desk, but he doesn’t go behind it. He sits next to me.

  “This is so fucking unfortunate,” he says, kicking the desk out of anger.

  I can see him sitting on his chair, his elbows on his knees as he gauges my reaction.

  “I’m so sorry, but I have to agree with Jack. She’s got to go.”

  Vince’s face is full of regret, but his eyes are ruthless. There’s no way out of this. He knows it. I know it.

  I want to scream. An image of myself taking the desk and throwing it against the wall burns in my mind. I’m bleeding to death. It’s like my sister all over again. The crushing weight of despair, of never-ending solitude, and fear squeezes my chest until I’m gasping for air. I bury my face in my hands and my eyes burn. My sister’s dead and now she’s dead, too.

  She was the last hope I had for myself, and now that’s gone.

  “I can’t do this, Vince. I fucking can’t.” Tears burn my eyes as I shake my head, my voice trembling. “Please, Vince. I can’t do it!”

  I can’t look into her eyes and pull the trigger. To do so would be to kill the last human part of me. I’ll never escape my guilt, because I do feel something for her. It explodes out of me, just like Janice’s death. It’s strong and it hurts.

  He wraps an arm around my shaking back and squeezes my shoulder. “All right. I understand. Someone else will do it.”

  “No!” A raw, animalistic noise leaves my throat as I lift my head and look at Vince. His eyes crease with sympathy, but at the same time, he’s holding back.

  “This has to be done, Joe,” he says in a hard voice.

  Has to?

  I sit up without caring that he can see tears swimming in my eyes. There won’t be a compromise from him. She’ll die, and they’ll do it their way.

  She will suffer.

  Breath catches in my throat. “I’ll do it.”

  I don’t want anyone to hurt her. They won’t be gentle. They might drag it out. Oh, God. The idea of cleaning her up makes me sick.

  The panicked voice inside my head booms in my ear. I can’t do this! I can’t fucking kill her!

  “Think about everything you’ve worked for, Joe. You don’t want to throw all that away.”

  Throw it away? But it’s okay for me to throw her away? I can’t just ignore the fact th
at having her around made me happier than I’ve been in months. Oh, God. What am I supposed to do? She’s the piece of my heart that screams right now. I just started fucking feeling normal again, and now—?

  I have to make a choice and stick with it. Kill her or suffer the consequences. My head pounds as I try to think about the logistics of it all, what I’ll do with her body—and a wave of nausea hits me hard. It’ll be easier—it’ll be less painful to be killed than to do this to her. But the family is my life. My loyalty never wavered until now. Never have I felt so divided, so unsure.

  My heart doesn’t feel divided. It knows what it wants: her. I can’t do this without losing a part of me forever.

  “Joe?”

  “You told me I had to make a choice. I’m making one now.”

  MARISA

  The needle of the grandfather clock ticks loudly. Every tick snaps through me, almost as if it beats in tandem with my heart. The guy that Joe left to watch over me doesn’t say much. He stands against the wall, and helps himself to a beer in the fridge, looking at me as if he doesn’t know what to make of me.

  I wonder how long it’ll be until I can finally go home without being followed. But here’s the disturbing part: I don’t mind being with Joe all the time. We get along pretty well. Pretty amazingly well, if you think about the circumstances. He even cooks for me. Tonight, I wanted to return the favor.

  I’ve started something in the kitchen. My dad made a pretty mean spaghetti sauce. Ben watches carefully as I slice vegetables and throw them into the giant pot. It’s unorthodox to put so many vegetables into the gravy, but I don’t care. Dad didn’t really raise us as traditional Italians. A flutter of warmth stirs in my chest when I imagine the moment he will walk through the door, wearing a beaming smile. He’s really come a long way since the first time I met him. He doesn’t seem so sad.

  I tip a can of crushed tomatoes inside the pot and stir vigorously. Ben licks his lips as the steam of cooking vegetables and meat fill the small kitchen, and I smile a bit to myself.

  How strange.

  Ben always gives me the impression that he wishes he was somewhere else, but then he gets a phone call, raises the phone to his ear, and his expression shifts. All of a sudden, his face tightens and he looks at me intently after he hangs up the phone. The stare he gives me reminds me of wolves. The energy between us feels different. He moves near the door, his limbs tense as if he thinks I’m going to sprint outside.