Expect the Unexpected

by L. M. Heidle

  For the next two hours, we sat without talking. I may have physically been there, but I couldn’t tell you a single thing about the movie. I thought about all our time together but was no closer to a conclusion. It didn’t help that periodically he would lean over and kiss my head or hand, not exactly the actions of a dangerous man. I watched him out of my peripheral, and his attitude never changed until the end of the movie. When the credits started to roll, he got fidgety and ran his hands through his hair several times. I stood up, stretched, and tried to fake being tired.

  Kass saw right through me but played along. “Alex, are you as tired as I am?”

  “Uh huh, I’m more than ready for bed.”

  As we walked toward the car, Tray pulled me aside. “I was hoping we could have a little one-on-one time so we could talk.”

  He was offering me two things I really, really wanted: alone time with him and information. I was beyond tempted, but I needed to get my own answers first. I had to know what I had gotten myself into.

  “Tray, as amazing as that sounds I really just want to go home and crash. Could we do that tomorrow night?”

  His face fell, disappointment clear in his voice as he spoke, “Sounds like a date.” He wordlessly helped me to the car before making his way to the driver seat.

  When we pulled up to the apartment, Tray grabbed my hand but continued staring out the front window. Mark and Kass said their goodbyes and climbed out. Turning toward me, Tray challenged, “I don’t know what Eddie said, but ever since then you’ve been quiet, and I can feel the wall you’re building. I’ll give you tonight, but tomorrow we will talk. Got it?”

  “Yeah.” I leaned over to give him a kiss on the cheek. “Night, Tray.” I opened the door and stepped out.

  “Night, angel.” I stopped at the door and looked over my shoulder trying to memorize everything about him, in case it was the last time I saw him. It broke my heart to see a man usually so confident, seem so unsure. He’d laid his forehead on the steering wheel and was lightly banging it. As much as I wanted to go to him, I couldn’t. Not yet.

  I sent a text to Eddie like I promised and said goodnight to Kass and Mark. After a quick shower, I climbed into bed and pulled my computer into my lap, absolutely terrified of what I’d find. I was staring at my laptop when Kass poked her head in.

  “Did you find anything?”

  I shook my head. “That would require hitting enter.” I stared at her through wet eyes. “I’m terrified. I can’t unlearn it once I’ve seen it. Maybe ignorance is bliss.”

  “You don’t honestly believe that. You’ll drive yourself crazy.” She’s right, I would. “I can sit with you if you want.” I was tempted, but I needed to do this on my own.

  “No, go have fun with Mark.”

  She nodded her understanding. “You know where I’ll be.” She softly closed the door on her way out.

  ALEX

  I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and hit enter. Nerves wrecked my stomach, making me nauseous as I opened my eyes. I blinked. Then blinked again. First thing I noticed was his gorgeous face looking back at me. There were several images of him. They ranged from him in jeans to tuxes. It was him, but it wasn’t. His eyes were emotionless like they were at the bar. I couldn’t find any pictures of him smiling. Not even his annoying smirk was present.

  When my eyes dropped below the pictures, my stomach dropped, too. The man had his own Wikipedia page. Who the hell is he? Normally that would’ve been pretty cool—because hello it’s Wikipedia—but the headlines below completely outweighed that.

  ‘Hit Man Arrested for Murder’

  ‘Mafia Bust’

  ‘Vince and Anthony Russo arrested’

  ‘The Russo’s only get five years’

  ‘Is Trayton Russo following in dad’s footsteps?’

  ‘Is the youngest Russo in hiding?’

  The headlines went on and on. Trayton was in the mob? A hit man? No. That’s not possible. I pushed my laptop away with trembling hands. I walked to the bathroom on shaky legs, intending on a drink, but instead splashed my face with cold water. After I’d dried my face, I stood in front of the mirror, racking my brain trying to remember every moment we had together.

  Every smile he’d given, his playfulness, the Jolly Rancher moment in the library, how comfortable he made me, and he made sure I got home safely after the bar. The way his kiss made me feel like I was flying. None of that screamed criminal to me.

  My subconscious decided to play devil’s advocate. It would explain his extreme intensity, from his eyes to his commanding presence. The black, emotionless eyes he had at the bar. Almost like he was a different person. The hints of temper he tried not to show. All of that separately and even together didn’t make him a criminal.

  His dad, though. According to the articles, he was in prison, and he was a person of interest in over twenty murders. Prison didn’t mean much, but twenty murders? That and the fact that he’d been able to elude prosecution for years.

  I splashed my face one more time before sitting back down on my bed. I pulled my laptop back onto my lap and opened his page. Two hours later and I still hadn’t learned much about Trayton, but I did learn his father and brother were not people I’d want to meet in a dark alley, or even a brightly lit one for that matter. If I wanted answers, I needed to go to the source. I flipped my phone over to check the time. It was a little after 1 a.m., so technically it was tomorrow when we were supposed to talk. Besides, I wouldn’t be able to sleep unless he filled in a few blanks.

  TRAYTON

  I laid in bed, my mind whirling as I thought about what Eddie had said. I knew he and I weren’t going to be buddy-buddy again, but I didn’t expect the confrontations to continue. He knew I could ruin him, but then again I couldn’t without ruining myself. He and Alex were friends, I get that, but he didn’t need to protect her from me. I had no plans of hurting her. If it was my family he was worried about, I’d make sure she was protected. If there ever came the point where she’d be better off without me, I’d walk away. At least I’d like to think I would.

  If my head was whirling, I could only imagine what her head was doing, assuming she took his advice. This was not the way I wanted her to find out, but this could work out in my favor. She’d get the initial shock over with and then I could explain. I wouldn’t lose her to this, at least not until she listened to me. As much as I wanted to, I couldn’t force her to accept my life. I’d had my phone in my hand for the last hour debating whether or not to call her, but I stopped myself, barely. When my phone vibrated and I saw her name, my heart rate sped up. I could go toe to toe with my uncle and father, but she had me in knots. This was insane. I was a Russo. Nothing fazed us, and problems meant nothing. They were simply situations that needed an answer, an answer we always provided.

  Angel: You awake?

  Angel: Hello?!?!

  Me: Are you okay?

  Angel: Honestly, I’m not sure. Does your offer to talk still stand?

  Me: Of course, but why at 1 am?

  Angel: Because I have questions I need answers to.

  Me: I’ll come get u.

  Angel: K

  Suddenly I wasn’t so sure of myself, but this is what I wanted. Our fates would most likely be decided tonight. The uncertainty I was feeling right now was why I’d avoided relationships for so long. I didn’t want to deal with bullshit emotions, but here I was, getting ready to tell my story and hoping she’d listen.

  ALEX

  I was pacing back and forth in front of the building when he pulled up. Without a word he put my helmet on, and I climbed on the bike. I wrapped my arms around his waist, enjoying the heat coming off him. I laid my head against his back as best I could and inhaled deeply, loving the woodsy and pure male smell of him. We rode for about fifteen minutes when he pulled up to a tall, impressive, and modern skyscraper. I climbed off and turned toward him, brows scrunched together.

  “I thought we were going to your place.”

 
He didn’t meet my eyes as he replied, “We did.” At my silence, he brought his eyes to mine and hesitantly continued. “I told you I only crash at the frat once in awhile, but this is where I live.” He grabbed my hand before I could comment and led me to the elevator.

  We got off on the tenth floor and walked into his apartment. When we walked inside my mouth dropped. There was no way in hell this apartment belonged to ‘just’ a college student. This place looked one you’d see in a magazine spread. Everything was open, sleek, and reeked of money. The complete opposite of my garage sale chic apartment. It was beautifully decorated in gray and black with a few blood red accents scattered throughout. “I’m impressed.”

  “Don’t be. I didn’t decorate it.” He led me to his humongous black leather couch, sitting as close as possible to me. With vulnerability radiating from his eyes he asked, “Before I answer any questions, can I get a kiss first?”

  He’d never asked before, so that and his vulnerable eyes made me slightly nauseous. In my mind, if he was nervous I needed to be nervous. Regardless, I wasn’t passing the opportunity of his lips on mine. The usual sensation that followed his lips on mine was there, but what had my stomach fluttering was the feeling of more. This went way beyond attraction to something I wasn’t sure I was ready for. He put his hands on either side of my face and ran his thumbs over my cheek, creating heat in their wake. He left our lips touching for a moment after he ended the kiss like he didn’t want to ruin the moment. Pulling back slowly he rested his forehead against mine and sighed as he closed his eyes. I hated when he did that. He was hard to read on a normal day, but at least I had a chance if his eyes were open. He took a deep breath, dropped his hands, opened his eyes, and sat back. “Okay, ask away.”

  I debated whether I really wanted to ask. Curling up beside him and forgetting the outside world sounded amazing, but I knew I needed answers more. “Are you in the mafia?”

  He cleared his throat, trying to hide his shock. “Can’t ease into it huh? Going for the jugular first thing.” I shrugged. “The easiest answer is it’s complicated.” He grabbed my hand, linking our fingers. “There’s a lot I can’t tell you, and what I do has to stay between us.” Is this one of those or I’ll kill you situations? “Okay?”

  I gulped at the seriousness in his tone. This is one of those defining moments in life that my mom always talked about. I knew without a doubt if I stayed my life would change, and while change is always scary, I was hoping I was right about him. If I was, he was worth the risk. “Okay.”

  “Alright, let me start at the beginning. As you can imagine my childhood wasn’t normal.” I snorted, I had a feeling that was an understatement. “I told you my mom died of cancer. Not sure if I told you I was five or not, but I was.”

  My heart broke for him. Losing my mom was one of the hardest things I’d ever experienced, but at least I had memories. He only had a few, if any.

  “After her death, I moved in with my father. We didn’t have a close relationship, so I naively thought the move would help that. I’d hear all my friends talking about playing baseball with their dads and getting to go on camping trips. I was so excited because I just knew I was going to have those memories too. I’d even convinced my stepmom to buy me a baseball bat, glove, and ball. I’d practice for hours because I wanted to impress him.”

  A sad smile crossed his face. “For that to happen, he’d have to be around, but he’d be gone for weeks at a time. Instead of my dad playing with me my stepmom tried to teach me.” He chuckled softly. “She was absolutely horrible. Anyways, she would always tell me he’s away on business. Ironically it was, just not the toy salesman I’d imagined.”

  My heart hurt for the little boy who only wanted a little attention from his father. If I had the chance to get my parents back, but I had memories like he did I’m not so sure what I’d choose. The memories I had, I held close to my heart, and I can’t imagine having them erased.

  “I remember clearly the night I learned the truth. It was really late, and I couldn’t sleep.” He had a sheepish grin as he admitted, “Storms used to scare me.” I gave a shaky smile because they still scared me. “I heard a commotion downstairs and snuck down to see what was going on. I peeked into the kitchen to see Vince, my father standing there with blood all over his white shirt, and holding a towel to his shoulder. My father told my stepmom someone tried to kill my uncle Vito which terrified me. He’d been there for my mom and me, and in a lot of ways he was more of a father than my own. Story short, I tried to sneak back upstairs, but the floor creaked giving me away. So at eight I learned my family was in the mafia, as was my uncle.”

  “You have a brother, right? Are you close to him?”

  “Anthony, he’s my stepbrother.” He rubbed his thumb along my finger. “I was so excited to have a brother. Unfortunately, he had different ideas about me moving in. In fact, he hated me, so we’ve never been close.” Again my heart hurt for him because most of my favorite memories included my brother. “What’s the next question?”

  I sat there in stunned silence, my head spinning like I’d just gotten off a tilt-a-whirl. I had about a million and one questions swimming in my brain, but I couldn’t find my voice. When I finally did, I blurted out probably the dumbest question imaginable. “So your dad is like Al Capone?”

  He opened his mouth but didn’t say anything. Pretty sure my stupidity rendered him speechless. It took him a couple minutes to compose himself. My face grew hotter and redder from embarrassment and anticipation.

  “You’re always a surprise. No, he’s not. Capone was the boss. My dad and brother are ‘allegedly’ enforcers.” He stressed allegedly like criminal lawyers on TV do when they know their client is guilty. “Which basically means muscle.”

  “Oh, okay,” was my great reply. After a few more tense minutes of processing what he’d said, I moved onto my next question. “One article said you were in hiding.”

  “It’s more of a forced exile. Growing up I thought power and money were everything, two things my father’s lifestyle provided. When I graduated high school, I fully intended to be initiated. I’d been training with my father since I found out what he does. The only good memories I have with him are from target practice. The day of my graduation both he and my brother were arrested. They were charged with unregistered weapons.”

  I held my hand up to stop him. “I read they were in for murder.”

  “No. The DA has been trying to indict them on murder charges for years. He thought he’d hit the jackpot and made a big deal of arresting them. He had talked before he had facts because ballistics showed no matches.”

  I tried to wrap my head around everything, but this was all a little overwhelming. One thought was front and center, though. “Is that why you changed your mind? Why you went to college?”

  “No, my stepmom intervened. When they were arrested, it rattled her. Not exactly sure why given his profession, but it did. She went behind my back and made a deal with my uncle Vito. Still, don’t know the exact details, but it stopped the initiation until I finish school. I was pissed when he told me. After all the grunt work I’d done over the years, I couldn’t believe it. That was the only future I’d planned for. Unbeknownst to me, my stepmom had been mailing college applications in, all of them far away from home. She’d done everything she could to get me out of town. I ended up grabbing the first acceptance letter I saw, and here I am.”

  Two words continued flashing in my head. “Grunt work?” When he didn’t say anything, I continued. “What exactly does that mean? Have you killed anyone?” Please God let him say no or I’m out of here.

  He gave a small chuckle. “Terrified of my answer, huh?” What could I say? No one wants to know a guy they like is a killer. Or sane people don’t. “First, don’t make it a habit of asking someone if they’ve killed. Tends to make people nervous.” Should I be taking notes? “And no, Alex, I haven’t. Most of what I’ve done would be considered a gray area by most people.”

 
; I’d always considered the law to be black and white, but I was too relieved he wasn’t a murderer to consider what gray area meant. I was considering how to word my question about how he grew up when a thought hit me. “You said you could join after you graduate.” I paused for his confirmation. “Tray, you graduate this year.”

  “I do.”

  “So does that mean you’re going back to New York?”

  He nodded, “That’s the plan, I’m enrolling in law school.”

  “Oh, not join your dad?”

  “Nah, being here has given me a different perspective.” He heavily sighed before running his hand down his face. “I think part of me was relieved I couldn’t join because I knew my mom wouldn’t approve, and I hated the thought of disappointing her. Vivian, my stepmom, was the deciding factor in my change. She used to be so carefree and laughed all the time, but this life is taking its toll. The light in her eyes has slowly started to dim with every arrest and every attack on my father and brother. She had tears streaming down her face when she begged me to go to college. I couldn’t watch another piece of her break.”

  I didn’t know this woman, but my heart broke for her. I remember the crushing feeling of seeing my brother taken away. I couldn’t imagine having to do that more than once.

  Even after this entire surreal conversation I still couldn’t picture him in the mob. In my mind, someone in the mob wore horrible suits and looked sketchy, not like he should be on the runway. They also went around talking about swimming with the fishes and cement shoes. I may have watched one too many movies.

  “Alex?” I jerked back when he laid his hand on my arm, rubbing it. I’d been so lost in my head I’d almost forgotten where I was. “What are you concentrating so hard on?”

  “You have to promise you won’t laugh.”

  “I promise.”

  “Pinky promise?” I know, I know I’m twenty-one and still pinky promising. It’s just one of those things that follow you throughout life. He nodded as he bit his lip. Pretty sure this wasn’t going to go well considering he’s already fighting laughter, but I was too curious not to ask. “Do they really go around talking about swimming with fishes and people with cement shoes?” As I spoke the words aloud, I realized how truly dumb it sounded. It only took a second before Trayton fell to his side laughing. I shoved him off the couch, and he landed with a thud. “I said no laughing.” I crossed my arms and pouted. In truth, the pout was more to cover the fact I wanted to laugh at myself, too.