by Belle Aurora
Her eyes narrow at me. “You got a badge I can see?”
Reaching into my back pocket, I pull out my immaculate fake police badge and ID and hand it to her. She sighs. “Yeah. She was in here earlier today.”
Ling cuts in, “How long ago?”
The waitress shrugs. “Around two.”
Fuck. That’s over four hours ago. She’s long gone by now.
Ling whispers, “Damn.”
The waitress brightens. “Y’all need to talk to Jimmy. I think she had car trouble, so she left her car with him. I saw her take his loaner.”
Praying my thanks to the car trouble gods, I ask patiently, “Loaner, huh? What type of car?”
“A blue Cadillac. A classic.” Looking out past me, she points, “There he is right now. If you want to catch him, you better run. He won’t be back till morning.”
A big, burly guy with a beard and grease-covered overalls steps into his truck, already heading out. I call out to the waitress, “Thanks for your help. Much appreciated. Oh, and if anyone else comes through looking for her, don’t give them any information. For her safety. You understand.”
I pick up pace as the engine starts, breaking out in a dead run. I bolt to the truck, and just as it starts to take off, I stop in front of it. The breaks squeal and the truck jolts. Jimmy’s out of the car and yelling in a second flat, “You lost your fucking mind, son, or you just got a death wish?”
Breathing deeply, I shake my head, lifting my police ID and the photos of Alejandra. “You seen this woman?”
But Jimmy doesn’t even look to the pages. He glares at me, lip curling. “Nope.”
Oh, yeah. Jimmy really doesn’t like me.
I hold the photos out and try once more. “You sure?”
He doesn’t flinch. “Sorry. Can’t help you.”
My jaw tightens. I’m about to set this man on his ass when a soft, feminine voice sounds by my side. “Excuse me, sir. Any information you have on Alejandra Gambino’s whereabouts would be much appreciated. We know she was here. We know she had car trouble. We know she spoke to you, sir.”
I look down at Ling, shocked and surprised that she can pull off sweet so well, when sour is her specialty. Jimmy looks down at Ling’s soft face and mutters, “She had car trouble. She’s gone.”
Ling steps forward. “Where? Where’d she go?”
Jimmy looks torn.
I help make his decision. “There are people coming after her. They will find her. If we find her first, we’ve got a chance of keeping her safe.”
Jimmy bites the inside of his cheek, at war with himself. Ling places a hand on his forearm and implores, “Please. Help us help her.”
Placing his hands on his head, he blows out a breath, answering on an exhale, “She’s at the Sunflower Inn a block away. It’s my dad’s place. She’s in room three, under Jane Smith. She won’t answer to anyone who doesn’t know that name. That was the deal.”
Relief. Pure relief courses through me. I hold out my hand to him. “Thank you, sir.”
Jimmy shakes my hand and pins me with a stare. “Keep her safe.”
Ling smiles at Jimmy before we turn and make our way to the car. Ling already has the address for the Sunflower Inn on her phone. “Yep. Just a block away.”
A block away.
I don’t know whether I feel elated or dismal.
Maybe I feel a little of both.
The warm spray washes over me as I cry. Leaning my head on the cool tile, I sob quietly.
What am I going to do now?
I’ve never had to think about myself. Someone else has always done it for me. First, my mother, then my father, lastly Dino. The only thing I really needed to do myself was make sure I was well behaved, a good daughter, a humble wife.
Who am I?
Alejandra Castillo Gambino is dead.
Not that she ever really lived.
Maria Gambirella. Who is she? What is she like? Is she funny and sweet? Maybe she’s smart and sassy. This is my chance to be someone else, someone I would want to be.
I sniffle and lift my face into the spray, washing my distress down the drain along with the sudsy water. Wiping my hands down my face, I turn off the water and wring out my hair, wrapping the long length in a towel turban and drying off. I dress quickly in my only bra, a white, delicate silky blouse, and black yoga pants.
In my haste to get away from the house, I didn’t really check what I was packing. I don’t really have anything that matches. But that’s okay. I’ll fix that tomorrow with a wad of cash from my duffle.
Having had my hair wrapped up for a while now, I unravel it. It falls in long, messy strands down my back, the damp tickling my skin.
A knock at the door sounds.
My body stills with sudden fear. I call out hesitantly, “Y-yes?”
A female voice calls out, “Slippers and coffee for Miss Smith, courtesy of reception.”
My body goes limp. Laughing to myself, I run a hand over my face and walk over to the door. I unlock the door, and the second I twist the nob, I’m thrown back. The harsh blow makes me land on my back, pain coursing through my torso and bottom.
Blinking, I look up. And stop breathing.
Julius and Ling stand there, looking down at me. Ling trains her gun on me, and I scramble back, panting. “How did you find me?”
An expressionless Julius steps forward. I scramble backward till I hit wall. Body shaking, I tremble in terror as he approaches. Kneeling by my side, he sighs out loud before uttering, “Rule one of making a successful getaway.” He reaches out, his fingers gently removing wet strands of hair from my forehead before settling his gaze on me once more. “Never leave a trail.”
Moments like these do nothing for me. I don’t feel big, or strong, or manly. Seeing Alejandra sprawled on the floor like this did not make me happy. I have to say, I did find satisfaction at the shocked look on her face when she recovered from her fall, but having her thrown around like that, her small, frail body looking more ragdoll than human?
Nope. I don’t like it.
Gently taking her by the arm, I help her off the ground and am surprised that she allows me to lead her without a fight. I walk her over to the bed while Ling closes and locks the door. As soon as I sit her down, she shuts us out, dipping her chin, she pretends I’m not there.
The move is so childlike that my usually calm demeanor spikes, and suddenly, I want to smash heads.
My heart beats up a hard, quick drumbeat as my anger rises. I pace in front of her. I pace a long while before I utter a low and rough, “I’m real mad at you, Alejandra.”
Her response is immediate. “Fuck you.”
Pausing midpace, I turn to face her, my jaw tight. That was defiance and disrespect, plain and simple. My anger rises to a higher level, bubbling like molten lava deep in my veins. I mutter a deathly quiet, “Talk to me like that again and we’re gonna have problems, chica.”
Lifting her face to mine, she lifts her chin in insolence. “You’re not my father.”
“No, only the man you tried to frame for your husband’s death. The same husband you accused of murder. No, I’m not your father, but if I were”—I shake my head lightly, appalled—“I’d disown you for being a little cunt.” Bam.
Taken aback by my blunt statement, her eyes widen, and her mouth opens before she controls herself and snaps it shut. She looks out past my elbow into nothingness, losing focus, and something tells me I just lost her inside her own head.
Ling, sitting at the small table, waves her gun in the air to get her attention. “Which, by the way, is now on me, considering I’m the one who shot him.” She scoffs. “Not that it wasn’t worth it. The guy was an asshole.” She looks at Alejandra and shrugs. “No offense.”
Alejandra swallows hard, shuts her eyes, and then whispers, “Please stop talking.”
Ling rolls her eyes. She doesn’t like drama. I manage to keep quiet a short while before joining Ling at the table. Leaning forward, I place my mout
h to her ear, and whisper, “What do you see?”
Ling watches Alejandra closely, assessing her carefully before responding just as quietly, “I see a scared little girl trying to be strong.”
Me too.
I stand, making my way over to the bed. Pulling Alejandra up with a stiff yank, I pick up the duffel and throw it to Ling. She catches it, opens it then smirks. “Alejandra, you shock me, you dirty little sneak.”
That catches my attention. “What?”
Ling lifts wads of cash out of the bag, and I frown then scowl down at Alejandra, who refuses to look at me. “Exactly how long have you been planning this?” She doesn’t answer, but she visibly pales. I thought I was a good judge of character. It’s obvious to me that I can’t be trusted around beautiful women. They clearly fill my head with bullshit, and what’s worse is… I let them. My lip curls in disgust, and I yank Alejandra forward a little harder than I should. “Move.”
But she digs her heels in, eyes wide, pulling back in clear panic. “Where are we going? Where are you taking me?”
Without looking down, I grip her arm so hard I know it’ll bruise. Dragging her to the door, I utter, “I told you what would happen if you lied to me. You’re going home.” I look down at her and smile sharply. “What did you think? That you’d just get away with it?” I lower my face to hers till we’re almost nose to nose. “Vito Gambino wants you in a body bag.”
What I don’t add is, “And he’s getting his wish, because your father is a pussy.”
Scared Alejandra fights me to no avail then suddenly turns into resigned Alejandra. She stops hesitating and allows me to move her. Her sudden compliance should have me nervous, but I’m too pleased with the fact that I have her.
The second we’re outside, I realize my mistake. I hear her inhale harshly and I know what’s coming.
The little minx is going to scream.
I do the only thing I can think of. Pushing her against the concrete wall with a harsh thud, I grip her throat hard. Gritting my teeth, I hiss, “Don’t you fucking do it, bitch. I will off you right here if I have to.”
Alejandra reaches up and scratches at my hand with one of her own while balling her other hand into a fist and hitting my arm. Her eyes wide, her mouth opens and closes, a gurgling noise escaping her.
I should let her go. I should apologize. But I don’t. She has to understand that for as long as she’s with me, I own her.
Ling moves past us sounding a little more than put out. “Jesus, c’mon! You’re making a scene.”
I allow the struggle a little longer and do it without flinching. The harsh reality of this situation is sinking in. If I need to, I will kill Alejandra myself.
I won’t like it, but I’ll do it.
The fear in Alejandra’s eyes is very real, and as they bore into mine, it radiates off her and into me.
My eyes narrow at her as I try to figure her out.
What the hell is her deal?
She has money from her own family. She didn’t need the dough. The short time I saw her with Dino, she looked happy. Tired, but still happy. Every person we’d spoken to told us that Dino and Alejandra were loyal to each other and happy in their marriage. Why would this little slip of a woman have her husband killed? I just can’t make sense of it.
A sudden thought crosses my mind.
Was Dino Gambino cheating on his wife?
Another thought.
What if Alejandra was cheating on Dino and the baby isn’t his?
The latter makes more sense to me.
My voice low, I lean in close. “I’m gonna let you go now. And you’re not gonna scream, are you?”
Desperately gasping for breath, face purple, she gurgles some more, shaking her head vigorously.
The second my hand eases on her throat, her shaking hands hold onto mine at her collarbone. I hold her up, supporting her, as she coughs and wheezes, taking in much-needed oxygen. Her forehead beaded with sweat, she closes her eyes in relief and the small action turns me vicious. Gripping her collarbone, I growl, “Do not make me do that again.” Her eyes open and blink weakly, her bottom lip trembling. My eyes focused on her lips, I grind out, “I did not enjoy that.”
“Fuck, Julius. Move your ass. We need to get out of here,” calls Ling, the clicking of her heels echoing throughout the parking lot.
Absently rubbing my thumb against her collarbone, I look down at this frightened and hurt woman, and in one night, I’ve become everything I hate in a person. I soften my features. “Don’t run from me.” An order.
Rather than responding, Alejandra closes her eyes and leans her head back on the brick wall, panting. As her shoulders slump, some of her fire fades. I’ll take that as an okay.
I grip her upper arm and walk her to the car. Ling opens the door for me, but before I put her inside, I reach into my pocket, turning her to face me. I lift her hands, place them together and pull the black cable tie around her wrists as tight as it can go without cutting off her circulation. Ling steps forward and duct tapes her hands together. As I walk back to the driver side, I hear Ling close the back passenger door and join me in the front.
“What if the car rolls?”
My brow furrows. I start the car and look at my guest in the rearview mirror with an assessing gaze. She lifts her taped and bound hands. “What if the car rolls?”
Her big doe eyes don’t leave mine. After a short while, I deepen my look of boredom and respond a cool, “Then you’re well and truly fucked.”
She blinks back at me, showing no emotion. Then she shocks me.
Alejandra Gambino smiles. A soft smile. A secret smile. And it hits me right in the cock.
Fuck her for being so beautiful.
Leaning back in the passenger seat, she closes her eyes, and within half an hour of driving, her breathing steadies as she falls asleep. I feel Ling’s eyes on me. I turn to look at her before narrowing my eyes. “What?”
Her small, manicured hand reaches out to squeeze my thigh. “Told you it’d be okay.”
I remember doing this alone. I remember never needing someone. My partner in crime was Twitch, and after he died, I didn’t want anyone else. Losing people hurts, in body or spirit. But I am grateful for Ling. It’s nice to share the load.
I spare her a quick smile. “You called it, Ling Ling.”
She returns the smile, and we drive on in companionable silence, her hand resting on my thigh.
When my eyes start to droop, I decide on a change of plans. “I’m in bad shape over here. I don’t think we’re that far from the loft.”
Blinking sleepily, Ling checks the GPS. “Around fifty-five minutes.” She turns in her seat, looking back at a sleeping Alejandra, before asking, “You sure you want her in your space?”
My space is very important to me. It’s my safe place, away from all the headfucks of the world. It’s my refuge.
But right now, I don’t have a choice. I can’t drive on for much longer. If I were a car, I’d be running on fumes.
“It’s one night.” I shrug lightly. “What’s the worst that could happen?”
Feigning sleep for so long is harder than it looks. Because you have little else to do, you find yourself submerged in what the people around you are saying.
When Julius asked Ling how far it was to the loft, I stopped breathing.
Sleeping people do not stop breathing.
I righted myself the moment I realized. I was lucky no one had noticed.
Knowing it won’t be long till I make my escape, I fight my racing heart and continue to breathe steadily. And I will continue to do so until the car comes to a stop.
The car finally begins to slow, the breaks quietly squeaking. Ling opens the passenger door and exits. After a short moment, the car moves on, slows once more and finally, the engine cuts out.
It’s almost time.
My heart drums up a beat likely to cause a heart attack. I’m petrified.
The cold sting of bitter tears prickles the
inside of my eyes.
This is my only hope.
The door beside me opens, and without a single thought, I sit upright and slam my head forward into… Shit. Into Ling’s.
She stumbles then falls back, holding her now bleeding nose, and that’s all I need. Stepping outside, my bare feet hit the icy cold ground, and without even knowing where I’m going, I run.
I hear him. “Fuck!”
The anger in his voice fuels me. I run harder, around the side of the building, tears rushing down my face. I didn’t even know I was crying until my vision blurs. Huffing and puffing, pain radiates through my heel as I step on something sharp. I cry out as it pierces the skin. I know I’m bleeding, but I can’t do anything about it. My hands are tied.
I stand and stumble.
Shit, that hurts.
I try once more, but my body crumbles underneath me.
Goddamn it. Shit! No.
I’m not going anywhere.
I’m done.
And, God, that really sucks. I had a plan.
You’re weak. You’re pathetic. Embrace death, you asshole. It’s the best you’re gonna get.
Those bitter tears fall freely, and I welcome the release. Sitting on my bottom, I wait. Footsteps sound behind me, and in a rare case of modesty, I lower my face to my knees to hide my tearstained cheeks and red eyes.
Without a word, his arms come around me, under my knees and behind my back, and he carries me back to the car.
“You broke my nose, bitch,” Ling utters. She sounds more annoyed than angry when she mumbles, “Do you know how long that’ll take to heal? I’m going to be purple for two fucking weeks. Thanks, by the way.”
Julius sits me down in the open car door and lifts my foot. I risk a peek to find him glaring up at me. “You stepped on a nail.” Shaking his head at me, he reaches down, grips the butt of the nail with his fingers and pulls. I yelp and pull back. Pain radiates through my foot, calf and shaking knee. He examines the nail. “It’s rusty. You ever had a tetanus booster?”
Ling stands behind Julius, licking blood off her upper lip, smirking. “Hurts like a bitch, don’t it?”