by Kara Hart
I lean against his shoulder, feeling slightly drunk from the wine. “What? Never? I don’t believe that. What about your crew or whatever you call them? Weren’t they your friends?”
He laughs and wraps his arm around my waist. “You think they gave a shit about me? You see the position I’m in now, right? They didn’t care if I was alive or dead. Friends don’t sell friends out. They defend them to the end.”
“It’s rough,” I suddenly say.
“What is?” he asks.
“Life out on the streets,” I sigh. “I’m just sorry you had to go through it.”
“It’s fine. I’ve never know any other way,” he tells me. “Both my parents died a long time ago. They just disappeared. I’m talking like, out of nowhere they were gone. I figured they were killed. I used to have nightmares about it all the time. Shit, I still do sometimes. But I never really got any clarity about any of that. And now it’s just a fact of my existence. I was born into this world, taken in by the mob.”
I exhale loudly and feel myself kissing his arm. Okay, maybe we’re a little more than friends. He kisses the top of my head. “There’s something I should tell you,” he says.
“What?” I feel my stomach churn at the possibility of what he might say. “Are you going to kill me or something?” I laugh, but I’m really unsure if that’s a joke or not.
“I killed Michael Tucciano,” he admits. “I did it, okay?”
“I know,” I whisper. The bugs are buzzing around us and they seem to grow louder by the hour. “Why’d you do it?”
“I had to, Bianca,” he says, turning very serious. “If I don’t protect myself, they’ll all kill me. They already tried to kill me.”
“But why? Why did they try to kill you before? Can’t you tell me?” I ask him.
He leans back against the blanket and I find myself falling against his chest. He runs his steady hands through my hair and I feel his heart beat against his chest. He’s calm and collected, but his blood runs heavy and strong.
“They thought I was an informant,” he says nonchalantly. “I was seeing this stripper. I guess she was FBI. She ended up dying. Or maybe she didn’t at all. I don’t know. I’m still figuring this out myself.”
I push myself off from his chest and look at him. “You dated an FBI agent posing as a stripper? What the hell?”
“Look, it was a different time. I’ve learned a lot since then,” he says. “I wouldn’t say we were dating, but we saw each other a lot. You know, I was lonely. I did what everyone else was doing. I saw women. Can you blame me?”
“No,” I whisper. “I guess not. I just think I might really hate you if I knew you back then.”
“I wouldn’t blame you for that,” he says. “Tucciano told me Ricky gave the order for my hit. Listen, I have to go after him. He’s the last person on my list. He’s a very bad person, Bianca. Shit, you know all about it.”
I jump onto my feet and back away from him. “But you can’t! He’s my cousin.”
“What does that have to do with it?” he asks me, shocked by my reaction. “He practically tried to rape you, Bianca.”
“So you fight fire with fire? That’s exactly what I hate about you people! You always have your guns drawn,” I say. “I’m sorry. I just thought you were a little different.”
“It’s nothing personal. I would just rather stay alive than dead,” he argues. “If Ricky stays on these streets, I’m dead for sure.”
“By the sound of it, you have the feds after you too. Why don’t you go after them then?” I ask him, feeling angered again. “None of this makes sense. Just disappear. Go to another country by boat. Get away from America.”
“I need justice,” he says. “I need to know my killers have been dealt with.”
“I don’t think I can sit here with a man who’s just going to go on killing forever. You’re just continuing the cycle of violence. Don’t you get it?” I ask him, slowly walking away. “I have to go home. I’ll see you around, Hunter.”
“Wait, Bianca. You don’t understand,” he pleads, reaching for me.
But I’m already gone and he doesn’t make an effort to chase after me.
175
Hunter
“Motherfucker!” I slam my fist against the brick wall and feel my knuckles crack. “Shit!” I grab my fist and massage it tenderly.
I drop to the mattress and look up to the sky. My new home situation is about a million times worse than before. I’ve got no roof, and no space. All I’ve got are the clothes around my back and a suitcase of toiletries. I used to have Bianca. Sort of. Now, I have no one.
Didn’t she understand the need for vengeance? Ricky was a danger to me and society at large. So how could she blame me for wanting justice? All I could do was sit alone with my thoughts.
The fact of the matter is that she didn’t know what it was like to be led into a den of wolves. I remember how they treated me that night. There were at least ten guns pointed at me and my body immediately betrayed me. I turned cold with shock.
I was lucky that bomb went off. That’s for sure. They had planted it in my car, just in case I escaped out the back. But due to faulty wiring, it went off right before they were about to do me in. With an explosion that big, the cops were sure to be on their way. So they ran out of the front, guns blazing. Lucky for me, they only hit my stomach and my leg.
I was forced to limp and crawl out of that building. My guts were practically spilling out of my shirt. Blood was everywhere. I could feel the bullet still burning in my stomach. That’s something they don’t tell you: how hot the bullet is, even when it’s inside you. It just sits there burning and burning, stinging your insides.
I spit up blood, feeling the dizziness set in. I was sure that this was death. That’s when I passed out.
Bianca was the better thing in my life. But I can’t compromise what I need to do. I just can’t, dammit.
Hours later and I’m at that strip club again. I’m propped up in my booth and I’m drinking heavily. The music pulsates against my ear and I’m smiling like a fucking child. Only, this isn’t where I want to be. It’s just an excuse to feel better than I really do.
“I didn’t think you’d come back,” that little blonde number comes walking toward me, shaking her ass from side to side. I guess her moves are supposed to be seductive. Instead, they just feel cheap. “I’ve missed you.”
She tries to sit on my lap, but I’m not having it. In fact, I’d rather just be alone. I guess this isn’t the place for that, but I don’t know where to go. “What’s wrong?” she asks me. “Don’t you miss me, Daddy?”
“Sure,” I mutter. And then I shake my head and admit “Actually, I don’t. There’s only one woman I miss.”
“Oh.” She looks down at the sparkling floor. Neon lights glide down toward the stage. A woman with fake tits is swirling around the pole as if her life depends on it. Old men are chatting with the women at their tables as if they’ve been dating for years. Young men scream as they throw dollar bills onto the stage. It’s a sad state of affairs we’re in.
“I see how it is now,” she sighs. “Well, why don’t you tell me about her?” I glance up and light a cigarette. “Honey, if you want to smoke, you’re going to have to buy a room.”
I throw a wad of cash down onto the table. It’s Michael Tucciano’s money and I’m buying a damn room with it. She takes it and counts the bills individually. In the corner of the club, is a man with a tilted hat over his eyes. He glances over at me and I feel unusually concerned. “Take me to that room,” I mutter.
She leads me down that familiar hallway and back into that same room we had fun in last time. Tonight bears a much different vibe.
We sit down and she gently closes the door, dancing to the music on the speakers. “You want a dance, big boy?” she smiles, curling her tongue against her thick upper lip.
She turns around and pushes her ass high into the air, her head nearly touching the floor. She’s an unusual specimen
alright. “I’m sure. No dances for me,” I tell her. “I came to get away. That’s all.”
“Well, you came to the right place,” she smiles, taking off her top.
“God, just put on some clothes. Will you?” I hand her a towel to cover herself up. “You’re too young to be doing this.”
“What are you, my father or something? Listen, I’ll leave if you want me to. You clearly want to be alone.”
“Who was that man outside?” I suddenly ask her, motioning for her to sit back down.
“What man?” she asks me, bored. “There’s plenty of men in here tonight, excluding you.”
“The guy with the tilted hat. The one in the corner of the bar,” I say, grabbing the bottle of vodka from the icebox. I pour a shot and take it down.
“I didn’t see anyone,” she shrugs. Suddenly, her eyes light up. “Why do you ask? You want me to bring him in here? Dang, mister. You’re pretty kinky.”
I feel the weight of my pistol press against my leg. I have to be ready. Things are starting to feel very wrong. I shouldn’t have come here, for multiple reasons. Bianca is the woman I have my eye on. If I die before I get to fuck her, living would have been absolutely pointless. It’s not like I love the girl or anything. She’s just real. And beautiful. And everything I could ask for in a woman. Of course, now she hates my guts.
“Don’t get funny with me, woman,” I say. I can hear footsteps coming in the hall. I put my hand against my gun as I feel my stomach start to tense up. “Let me ask you again. Who is the man with the tilted hat?”
“I’m going to leave,” she whispers. “This isn’t too much fun.”
She hesitates, but moves toward the door. The footsteps grow closer. I glance at the door and she jumps a little, as if she knows what’s coming. “What the fuck?” I whisper to myself.
She just looks at me and gives me those dreary eyes. “I’m sorry. I had no choice,” she says. Fuck.
I fall to the floor, wielding my gun. I take the safety off and wait. That’s when I hear the sound of pop, pop, pop, like a tire bursting on the side of the highway. Only, it’s not a fucking tire. It’s bullets from an AR-15.
Shells fall against the floor as the door bursts open. “Get down!” I scream to the stripper, but she’s already bleeding out next to me. “Oh, Jesus. Those bastards,” I mutter, firing back all I’ve got. The guy must have unloaded at least 60 bullets before ducking out the back. He either has a terrible aim or I’m just a lucky son of a bitch, because I’m seemingly fine.
There are screams coming from all around me. Patrons of the club are pushing their way out through the front door. I’m working against the current, trying to catch up with the guy. I push open the back door and run out of the club. A man is running in the streets. It’s him. I know it’s him.
We’re both running as fast as we can, using up all of our adrenaline. He’s taking me through a series of back alleys. The only sound that I can hear is the echo of our footsteps against the concrete and dirt. “Stop!” I scream, but he’s not stopping anytime soon.
I trip over a branch roll onto the dirt. I can see him getting away. I can see his face, the cross necklace he’s wearing, and the black tracksuit he’s in. He was there for me. He was there to gun me down. Thank God he failed. That poor woman though…
I shouldn’t have gone out. What the fuck was I thinking? Now they definitely know I’m close. It won’t be long before they take it all from me. My life, my memories, my dignity.
Most likely, I’ll die before I get to see Bianca again. I’ll be gunned down like an animal before I get one real night with her. All because I need justice.
Well, I’m not letting up.
176
Bianca
“Did you hear the news?” Giovanni says, mouth full of cereal. He takes a swig of orange juice before finishing swallowing. I grimace at him.
Dad drinks his coffee and holds the paper in front of his face. He’s reading the sports section like he always does in the morning and I know he’s barely even there. “No, what happened?”
Giovanni smiles. “There was a shooting at some strip club. They think it’s gang related,” he says. It’s almost like he’s happy that so much turmoil surrounds us. Perhaps if the violence grows, he can finally be a soldier in their stupid war.
“Interesting,” Dad mutters, not really listening. “What gangs?”
He shrugs. “Who knows,” he says. “But I heard they’re close to catching that guy. You know, whoever killed Michael Tucciano and Tony.”
My dad puts down the paper and takes off his glasses. “They’re connected?”
“That’s what Ricky thinks,” my brother says. I sip my coffee and watch him intently. “He’s saying we should gear up for war.”
My father drops his glasses and stands up from the table. “I won’t stay around to listen to this bullshit,” his face grows red with anger.
“We’re just defending our family,” Giovanni says, knowing full well he’s antagonizing everyone in the room right now. “If you don’t give a shit about the family, then I’ll understand you leaving.”
My dad, full of rage, pounds his fist on the table. Everything flies up. My coffee spills everywhere. I stand up and back away. “That is not what our family is about! I did not raise you to be an instigator,” he growls. “I raised you to have pride in yourself and to never fight, unless you absolutely have to.”
“We have to, dad!” my brother jumps up, eager to display his manhood. “This is self-defense. The bastard killed Tony. He killed Michael Tucciano. And he’ll kill us too if we don’t do something about!”
“Shut up!” I find myself screaming, almost instinctively. “Just shut up. Both of you. You both make me sick, you know that?” I run out of the house, unable to look either one in the eye.
How did I end up in such a family? Why did I ever come back? It’s like everyone from this damn city is trying to let me down. I call up Teresa right away. “Hey, Bianca!” she answers, shouting cheerfully into the receiver.
“Can you pick me up at my place?” I ask her. “I need someone to talk to. Like ASAP.”
When she responds, her voice has grown serious. “Sure. Of course I can. Is everything alright?”
“I’ll tell you in a second. Just come soon,” I say, out of breath.
She arrives in less than fifteen minutes and she takes me over to her house. “My parents are out, so we can just relax here. You look like a ghost, Bianca,” she says. “What’s going on?”
“It’s my brother,” I say. “He thinks he’s some warrior or something. I think he’s going to die. I think he’s going to end up killing himself.”
“Giovanni?” she asks, surprised. “He’s suicidal? Jesus. I never thought he would threaten something like that.”
I shake my head, still out of breath. “No, it’s not like that,” I say. “He’s itching to go to war. It’s Ricky too. They want to start another war or something. At least, that’s what it’s looking like.”
“Shit,” she sighs, looking down at her feet. I can tell something is on her mind, but she’s staying silent about whatever it is.
“Yeah, I don’t know what to do,” I tell her, rubbing my fingers against my temple. “It’s taking its toll on me, you know? Like, I was okay with coming back here, but now I’m not so sure this place is good for me. Every time I come back, things are crazier than before.”
“Yeah, well. You wouldn’t really know how things are. Would you?” she asks. “You’ve been gone for a long time now. The city is much safer now that Ricky is in charge of things.”
Fuck. Not her too. It’s like this whole neighborhood is brainwashed. “In what way?” I ask, trying to remain calm.
“I just mean, we’re protected now. At least that’s what my dad always says,” she shrugs. “He’s loving things now that he’s being taken seriously by Ricky.”
“Jesus, Teresa. Did he get a promotion or something? Did he make captain?” I ask her.
“Yeah, but I don’t see how that’s relevant,” she says with a straight face. “It’s not about that.”
“Sure it is!” I exclaim. “You’re all benefiting from the deaths of innocent people! No wonder you’re all complacent. Daddy can take you on a nice shopping spree and you sit here and think the world is all sugar and gumdrops. Well, I have news for you. People are dying and your father could be next.”
“Is that a threat or something?” she asks me.
“No,” I sigh. “No, of course not, Teresa. I’m just trying to get you to see outside the box a little. This is my brother. We grew up together. We experienced life together, for God’s sake. He’s my flesh and blood. I don’t want him to die. As much as he annoys me, deep down he’s a good guy.”
“I get it,” she nods. “But people grow up sometimes and they’re allowed to make their own decisions. It’s either he works for Ricky or some fucked up Automobile Corporation. If you ask me, he’s taking the safer route.”
“He’s worth more than a bullet to the head,” I say. “Look, let’s just drop it before we start to argue.”
“Fine,” she says. She puts both her hands on the table and taps her fingernails against the wood. After about a minute of silence, she scoots her chair out and exhales. “I know you’re seeing that guy,” she says.
“I’m not seeing anyone,” I say. It’s not exactly a lie. We broke it off a few days ago. “But you can think whatever you want. I don’t care anymore.”
“I think you should go,” she says, looking at the door. “And by the way, maybe if you weren’t fucking a known traitor, you could get your head out of your ass and realize just how much Ricky has your side in this.”
“Oh my God,” I say, completely shocked by her response. I thought we were friends. We had always gotten along so well in the past. I guess when people grow up, their fucked up politics start to take over. “Fuck this. Goodbye, Teresa.”
I walk out the door and I don’t look back. Only, she has to get the last word in. She runs to her porch yelling. “I’m telling Ricky you came by this morning!” Bitch.