by B. B. Hamel
The inner door opened then shut with a bang.
But that shouldn’t have been an issue. The door locked automatically, and the only people with keys were my neighbors. An older man lived below me, and a young couple with a little baby had the entire third floor to themselves.
Heavy, stomping steps came up the stairs.
I felt uneasy. Something about the ransacked apartment and the cadence of the steps left me with a bitter taste in my mouth. I walked to my door and hesitated, listening. The steps came closer, stomping up to the second floor, and I ducked back away from the opening, my heart racing. Sweat rolled down my back, anxious and noxious. I grabbed the handle and yanked the door shut.
Just as the person on the stairs lunged forward.
I grabbed the handle. I let out a scream, unable to help myself, and pulled the door as hard as I could. But just like with Luca, the person outside pushed and pushed, shoving the door open and open. I cried out, straining as hard as I could, but I couldn’t stop it.
I saw a man with tan, leathery skin, buzzed black hair, deep brown eyes, a crooked, sharp nose, and thin lips. He grinned at me as he shoved his head inside and threw the door open, knocking me back. I stumbled and ran into the wall as he stood in the doorway and laughed.
He wore baggy jeans and a plaid button-down with the cuffs undone and rolled once. He reached for something behind him, something tucked into his belt, and I instinctively knew what it was.
I turned and ran.
“Stop,” he said. “Don’t run, girly. Don’t make this hard.”
I ran to the bathroom, but he followed. I tried to get inside, hoping I could lock the door, but he grabbed me, threw me against the wall. I gasped as my head hit. He punched me in the gut, grabbed my wrists, and dragged me back to the living room.
“Please,” I said. “Let me go. I don’t have anything. I can’t do anything.”
“I know what you have,” he said. “I know exactly what you have. Stop crying, just shut up, okay? Just shut the fuck up and I won’t hurt you.”
His arms were wiry and thin but he was surprisingly strong. He threw me on the floor in the living room and I winced as I landed next to a pile of glass. I sat up and stared at him as he took a gun from his belt and pointed it at my face.
I sniffled and bit down on my tongue to stop myself from crying more.
“That’s better,” he said. “Now, you’re going to come with me, do you understand? You have something my bosses want.”
“I don’t know who you are,” I said, choking on the words. “I don’t know what you want.”
“Stop playing that game,” he said. “It won’t work. Now get up and start walking.”
I climbed to my feet and felt a stab of pain on the back of my right thigh. I grimaced and looked back, only to find a long piece of glass sticking out of my skin. I plucked it away and tossed it on the floor as the man stepped forward and grabbed my arm.
“Enough of this,” he said. “You stupid, silly girl. Do you have any idea how long I’ve been sitting outside of this apartment?”
“Please let me go,” I said. “I’ll give you anything.”
“You’ll give it either way.” He pushed me to the door. “Stupid, stupid girl. I’ve been eating fast food in my car for the last three days. Slept in the back seat like a homeless man. I stink, you smell me? I stink like a dying cat.”
I stumbled out the door and into the hallway. He kept hold of my arm as he dragged me down the steps. I barely managed to keep up as he held me tight, hard enough to hurt, his fingers digging into my arm.
“Did you do that to my apartment?” I asked.
“Of course,” he said. “What, you think your precious uncle did that?” He laughed, bitter and angry. “No, your precious little mafia uncle has been trying to protect you, but you don’t seem to know that, do you? Stupid, stupid fucking girl. I slept in my goddamn car to get you, and now here you are, like fish to barrel. Is that other saying? Fish to barrel? Or shooting fish in a barrel.”
I staggered down the last flight of stairs and he shoved me forward. I tripped and went sprawling out, my chin snapping down onto the floor. I gasped in pain and rolled onto my side, grabbing at my face. He stood at the bottom of the steps, his arms crossed, shaking his head.
“Look at you, pathetic girl,” he said. “All this trouble for one pathetic little girl. And to think, you’re worth so much money.” His eyes seemed to gleam a dangerous, deadly glint.
I sat up, shaking my head, trying to clear it. I stared at him, and from the darkness beneath the steps, just a few feet behind the man, I saw something move.
At first, I didn’t understand what I was seeing. I thought it might have been my imagination, or maybe I suffered a concussion when I fell.
But no, a figure stepped out from underneath the steps.
I recognized him as he stepped into the light. He raised a gun up, level with the man’s skull. My eyes went wide with terror and the man seemed to notice.
“What’s wrong with you?” he asked.
Just as Luca pressed the gun against the back of his head.
“You shouldn’t have hurt her,” he said. “I thought about letting you live, at least long enough to ask you some questions. But you know what? I’d rather see your brains on the wall than listen to you complain, you little fucking piece of shit.”
“Wait—”
Luca pulled the trigger.
The gunshot was loud, so much louder than they are in movies. My ears began to ring and I felt dizzy as the bullet ripped through the man’s head, sending brain and blood and shards of bone splattering against the wall next to where I sat. The man’s body stumbled forward like it was still alive then crumpled down to the floor, folding in on itself.
Luca shot him twice more in the chest before putting his gun away. He spit down on the corpse before walking to me and holding out his hand.
He said something, his mouth moved, but I couldn’t hear. I shook my head, blinking, trying to clear my mind. But I was dizzy, terrified, and splatters of blood covered my face.
He bent down, spoke louder. “Are you okay?” I heard through the ringing.
“I’m okay,” I said, although maybe I shouted it, I couldn’t tell.
“Come on,” he said, taking my arm and hauling me up. “Let’s go back.”
I nodded, mute, dumb, and afraid, but alive. I leaned against him as he walked to the door and opened it. We managed to leave the building as my downstairs neighbor poked his head out from his apartment and began to scream incomprehensible noises.
“That’ll be a problem,” Luca said, hustling me down the stoop. “That guy’s going to talk.”
“How did you know?” I asked him as Luca led me away from the house. “How did you find me?”
“I saw you were gone and made an educated guess,” he said. “Now hurry up, we have to go.”
He took me to a black sedan, opened the door, and pushed me inside.
I curled up on the seat and stared out the windshield, the world moving around me in jerky, uneven motions, as my ears continued to ring and ring and ring.
7
Luca
I made sure Clair was safe and in her room before closing her door and heading downstairs. She was in shock and could barely talk, let alone understand the gravity of our situation.
She fucking tricked me. I was livid with her, so fucking livid with her. She tricked me into going out for lunch and then ran as soon as I left the house.
And worst of all, she went straight back to her apartment. Right back to the one place where the Jalisco were absolutely going to catch her.
She didn’t get it. That much was obvious. She had no clue just how much danger she was in, but now that she had brains and blood splattered on her face, maybe now she’d listen.
I picked up my phone and called Roberto. I didn’t have a direct line for the Don, but Roberto was close enough. He ignored my first call, ignored the second, but picked up the third.
“What the fuck do you want?” he asked. “You can tell I’m ignoring you, right?”
“Something happened with the girl,” I said. “When I call, you need to answer.”
He was quiet for a beat. “What happened?”
“She escaped,” I said.
“She did what now?” He sounded more surprised than pissed off, but the anger was coming.
“She went back to her apartment,” I said. “I don’t know what the hell she was thinking or how she got across town that fast. I think she took a cab.”
“Didn’t you take her phone?”
“Of course,” I said. “But cabs take cash too, or maybe you forgot that.”
“This isn’t a fucking joke,” he said. “You lost the girl on your watch. I didn’t fuck up here.”
“She’s back already,” I said. “But there’s a dead Jalisco soldier in her apartment building. One of her neighbors saw us.”
Another long pause. “This is some serious shit, Luca.”
“I know,” I said. “I understand how bad this is. But tell the Don. I can call Steven and have him go clean up the scene.”
“Too late for that. If a civilian saw, the cops are probably there.”
“All right,” I said. “I got you.”
“I’ll talk to the Don,” he said. “And get back to you. Hang tight.”
He hung up. I tossed my phone down onto the couch just as the shower started upstairs. I assumed it was Clair going to clean off the blood from her face.
I sat down on the couch and kicked my feet out, grinding my teeth, trying to keep myself under control.
I’d been careful for a long time. I killed the Jalisco, and I was good at it too, but I made sure I didn’t do it around civilians. Normally, I never would have killed a man right there in broad daylight in an apartment building like that, but I couldn’t take the risk. I had to finish him off before he did something stupid and hurt Clair some more.
The image of her getting thrown down, of her jaw slamming onto the floor, made my heart jump in my chest.
I was so angry. I was angry with her and angry with that stupid Jalisco moron. I was angry with the whole situation.
And yet angry wasn’t going to solve anything.
I closed my eyes, counted down from ten. I did that a few more times until I had my heart rate under control.
When I opened them again, the phone rang.
It was a number I didn’t recognize.
“Hello?” I said.
“Hello, Luca.” Don Leone’s voice, and he didn’t sound happy. “I hear you had an incident.”
“I did, sir.”
“What happened?”
I gave him the short version, about going out for groceries, coming back and finding her gone, going to her apartment building and hearing her talking upstairs with the Jalisco guy, about ambushing him downstairs.
“Now he’s dead on the floor there, and I think her downstairs neighbor saw us,” I said.
“You think, or he did?”
“He was busy screaming at the dead body, so I think he did.”
“Memory is fickle,” Don Leone said. “That might pay to your advantage here. He might not be able to identify either of you if he had such a strong reaction.”
“I know killing him there was a bad idea, but Clair’s safety was my priority.”
“I appreciate that,” Don Leone said, and then there was a short pause. I stood up, paced around the living room, could barely keep my anxiety in check. “But you know you messed up.”
“I know, sir,” I said. The shower turned off upstairs. An image of Clair, dripping wet and naked, flitted through my head. “I should have kept a closer eye on her. But I thought we had an understanding.”
“What sort of understanding was that?”
“I assumed she realized how much danger she was in,” I said. “But I think I was wrong about that. Between everything that’s happened and losing her phone, I think it was just too much.”
“I see,” Don Leone said. “You believe taking her phone was a bad idea.”
I clenched my jaw. Shit, I shouldn’t have said that.
“Sir, I understand why it was necessary,” I said.
“But you don’t agree with it.” His voice was strained.
“She had nothing here,” I said. “I know that phone is a link to the outside world, but it’s also the only thing that was keeping her grounded. As soon as I took it, I think that pushed her over the edge.”
“I see,” Don Leone said. “And this has nothing to do with the fact that you left her there alone.”
“That was my mistake as well,” I said. “From now on, I’ll order anything I need and have it delivered.”
“Interesting that you think you’re still assigned to this.”
I stopped pacing and stared at the wall. My body froze and a strange feeling washed over me.
I should have been excited that he might be sending me back to Steven. But then again, that meant I had failed, and failure in the mob was a very bad thing. They wouldn’t kill me for making a mistake, but the Don might make my life difficult for a while at the very least.
And on top of that, for some reason, I didn’t want to leave Clair. I wasn’t sure why, since the girl despised me. But maybe it was the way she looked at me when I was working out, her eyes on my sweating, muscular body, or the way she smiled, or how I’m pretty sure she’ll start opening up to me sooner or later.
When she does, I plan on stripping her bare and tasting every inch of her sweet body.
“I want to see this through, sir,” I said.
Another short pause. I looked up at the ceiling, wondered what she was doing.
“I’ll let you stay,” he said. “But I’m going to dock your cut. Every mistake you make means less money in your pocket. And when the money runs out, then you’ll pay with your life.”
“I can handle that,” I said.
Since the money didn’t matter all that much. I had plenty saved up.
“Very well,” he said. “Stay with her. Make sure she’s okay. I’m visiting later to speak with her.”
“Thank you, Don.”
“Don’t let me down again, Luca.”
He hung up the phone.
I tensed and gripped my phone hard, tempted to break it in my fist, tempted to throw it through the wall.
But instead, I relaxed, tossed it onto the couch, and looked toward the steps.
And was surprise to see Clair there, wearing a navy-blue shirt and a pair of soft cotton shorts, her hair dripping wet.
“How long have you been there?” I asked.
“I heard a little bit,” she said. “You’re in trouble, aren’t you?”
“Yeah,” I said and walked over to the couch. “Not getting paid.”
“Oh,” she said and lingered on the steps. “That’s not good, right?”
“If you like money, then no, it’s definitely bad.”
She chewed her lip and looked away. “It wasn’t your fault,” she said.
“I know that.”
“I can tell him, if you want.”
“He won’t see it that way.”
She came down another step, leaned against the railing. The hem of her shirt lifted just a bit, showing off her tight, lean stomach. I let my eyes drift down to her long legs then back up to her eyes.
“Thanks for what you did back there,” she said.
I shrugged one shoulder. “No problem. It’s my job.”
“He was going to hurt me,” she said. “I think he might’ve killed me.”
“They wouldn’t have killed you,” I said. “Not at first, anyway. They would’ve gotten your money then killed you.”
She grimaced, looked away, and I thought she might be sick. But she breathed deep and came down the steps. She walked into the living room, stared at the couch, seemed to change her mind, and sat down in a big, padded leather armchair.
“Seriously, thank you,” she said. “I wasn�
��t thinking. I just… I just wanted to get away.”
“I know,” I said. “I get it. You didn’t ask for any of this.”
“You didn’t either. But you… you killed a man.”
I waved that off. “Not the first Jalisco asshole I’ve killed.”
That seemed to unsettle her. She looked away, shifted in the chair, gripped the armrests. “How long will my ears keep ringing?”
“Might be a few hours, might be a few days,” I said. “I don’t really know. My ears stopped ringing after the first few times.”
“Did you lose hearing?”
“Probably. Haven’t noticed though.”
“Right, okay.”
“You’re okay,” I said. “Don’t worry too much about it.”
She nodded then grimaced as she adjusted her leg again. “I got glass in my thigh,” she said.
“How bad?” I asked.
She sat up, looked at the back of her leg. A little line of red trickled down, stained the chair.
“Still bleeding,” she said. “I thought it stopped.”
“Must’ve ripped it open,” I said and stood up. “Hold on. I’ll fix you up.”
I went into the kitchen, got some paper towels, handed her one. She wordlessly pressed it against her leg while I went into the bathroom and found an old first aid kit under the sink. I came back out, knelt down in front of her, and opened the kit up.
I took an alcohol swab and cleaned the cut off first. She frowned a little but didn’t wince at the burn. I put the swab aside then got out a strip of clean gauze. I cut it to shape using a pair of tiny scissors, pressed it against her leg, and gently taped around it. Once I was done, I smoothed out the tape, running my fingers down its length, my fingertips brushing against her skin.
She stared down at me with this open mouth that sent a thrill through my chest. I looked back up at her, held her gaze there. I wanted her to look at me, wanted her to know that I liked it. I kept my fingers on her leg but didn’t push it, didn’t go too far. I didn’t want to scare her away, but I wanted the touch, craved the feeling of her smooth skin under my hands.
I wanted more from her, wanted to taste her lips, listen to her moans. I wanted to see how far I could push her before her body gave in and made her feel good.