by B. B. Hamel
“She’d do it for me,” she said.
“But you know this won’t go well.”
“I hope that’s not true.”
“I’m telling you, this won’t go well. The Jalisco are too well armed. Your mother—”
“She’d do it for me,” she said again. “After what happened to my dad, I think we both just sort of… we both know we can’t let the mafia take either of us away again.”
I grunted and stared at the ceiling. I knew that already, but hearing her say it got through to me.
“You think you have to,” I said.
“That, and it’s the right call,” she said.
“How?”
“Vincent’s right, if I just give the Jalisco my money, it’ll only make them stronger.”
“True,” I said, as much as I didn’t want to.
“If I give them nothing, then they’ll torture her. Send her back in little pieces until I crack and give them the money, which I don’t want to do.”
I didn’t respond right away. “Yeah,” I said, voice quiet. “That’s true, too.”
“This is the only way out,” she said. “It’s the only way I give my mom a chance without damning the whole city to a bloody war.”
“You don’t owe the city shit,” I said. “Let the Jalisco and the family fight it out. You don’t have to be a part of that.”
“But I am,” she said. “As much as I don’t want to be, I am.”
“Fuck,” I said.
“Yeah.” She looked up at me and smiled. “Fuck.”
“You know I don’t want you to do this.”
“I know.” She kissed my chest. “I understand.”
“But if you do, I’m going to be there.”
“I hope so. I’m not sure I could do it alone.”
“I won’t let you be alone.” I pulled her up toward me, kissed her hair, hugged her tight. “How’d you end up in all this? How’d you find yourself in my life like this?”
“I don’t know,” she said and laughed a little. “I think it was bound to happen sooner or later, you know? It all comes back to my father. I’m a mobster’s daughter, after all.”
“We should leave here, when this is through.”
She shrugged. “Where would we go?”
“Chicago,” I said. “You’ve got the money and the property. We can start something new there.”
“What would you do, if you could? Anything in the world.”
“I’d start a pizza place,” I said. “None of that deep-dish shit.”
She pulled back from me, leaned on an elbow, and stared into my eyes.
“You could do anything in the world, and you’d open a pizza place?”
“I know, sounds stupid,” I said, letting out a breath. “But when I was younger, when I was with that foster family, there was only one place I felt safe.” I closed my eyes for a second and could still smell the garlic, cheese, and oil in that little corner restaurant with its red wood booths and tall red plastic cups. “There was this pizza place owned by a local guy, not known to be a super nice guy, you know? But he’d let me sit in there after school, and so long as I did my homework, he’d give me a slice and a soda on the house. Sometimes I paid him, and sometimes I didn’t. Mostly I didn’t, but he never complained.”
“Must’ve been a good guy,” she said.
“Nah, he was an asshole. I just think he felt sorry for me. Knew I lived with those foster parents, knew they were kind of terrible people.”
“You want to give other kids what you had,” she said.
“Yeah,” I said. “I want to make a place of my own, but also a place for a community, you know? Where people can come and sit and hang around, feel comfortable, eat some decent food.”
“A business, but a home, too.” She smiled at me. “That sounds nice.”
“A pizza place,” I said. “In Chicago. That doesn’t do fucking deep dish.”
She leaned forward and kissed me. “If we make it through, I promise, we’ll do something like that.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah,” she said. “I mean, I don’t have any other dreams. And opening a pizza place might be fun.”
“What if it’s not?”
“Then it’ll be your problem. I’m the one with all the money, right?”
She grinned at me and I laughed, pulling her close again.
I felt her body, kissed her shoulder, tasted sweat on her skin, and in that moment I knew I’d do whatever had to be done to make sure she came through this all alive, because the world deserved her, the world needed her.
Fucking hell, I needed her.
If I had any chance, it was with this girl, and I wasn’t about to let that go.
25
Clair
Just after midnight, clouds over the moon. Streetlights glowed orange and buzzed an electric hum. I stood in the middle of an empty parking lot, the little wooden shack where the parking attendant usually sat stood empty and abandoned. Old chip bags littered the ground, a rosary hung from a nail. Grass grew in the cracks in the pavement.
I leaned up against the long metal pylon shoved in the ground next to the shack and crossed my arms.
The city was empty. Not a single drunk couple, homeless guy, insomniac, young idiot, or pack of feral cats walked past. I wanted to scream, wanted to make noise, but I was told not to move, not to do anything but stand and look nonthreatening.
The Jalisco were late. Ten minutes late, exactly, and I was ready to give up and walk away. I would have already if it weren’t for Luca whispering in my ear.
“You hear that, sweetheart?”
I tried not to move my mouth too much when I answered. “Hear what?”
“That’s the sound of a bunch of scared fucking cartel guys,” he said.
I reached up, fidgeted with the little Bluetooth speaker in my ear, then stopped myself. It was tiny and covered by my hair, but I had to be careful. I dropped my hand back to my thigh.
“It’s quiet,” I said.
“Exactly.” I heard him laugh into the phone. “They’re scared because they know you’re a badass. They didn’t think you’d show.”
“Please, if they’re watching, I bet they can see me shaking right now.”
“No way. They just see some bad-ass bitch standing there like a boss, waiting to face them down.”
I smiled a little. “Don’t call me a bitch.”
“I mean it in the nicest way possible, darling.”
I stifled a laugh and took a deep breath. “Seriously, Luca. Where are they?”
“I don’t know,” he said. “But they’ll show. This is crunch time for them, darling. They can’t afford not to show up. You’re their last, desperate move, and if they can’t get what you’ve got, then they’re through.”
“Yeah,” I said, taking a deep breath and letting it out. “I know you’re right. I just hate waiting.”
“Waiting’s always the worst part,” he said. “When the time comes, it’s never as bad as we thought. Being afraid is always worse than the thing itself.”
“Yeah? Where’d you read that?”
“Learned it the hard way.” A little rueful laugh. “From all those nights kicking in doors. I’ve been scared shitless, shaking in my fucking boots, you know what I mean? But as soon as the running, the shooting, the yelling starts, it all goes away. Fear replaced by action. The thing itself is never as bad as the waiting. Anticipation and fear are the real enemies, darling. You master those, you master the world.”
“You should write a book,” I said, then caught sight of a shadow down the block. The shadow resolved itself into the shape of a man, then a second man, then a third. I leaned forward as the trio came toward me. “Shit, I think that’s them.”
“Steady,” he said. “Stay calm. I’ll tell you what to do.”
“Right. Right. Steady.”
The lead guy was tall, stretched out and skinny, with shabby brown cargo pants and a long brown jacket. He carried a suitcase in
his right hand and his left was shoved into a pocket in his jacket. The second man was short, broad, squat, with a patchy beard, dark beady eyes, and rumpled street clothes. The third wore a pressed suit, looked like he worked out, was almost handsome if it weren’t for the hooked nose and the thinning hair.
They crossed the street then came toward me. I stood up straight.
“I don’t see my mom,” I said.
“They’re not alone,” Luca said in my ear. “We just got word of a couple cars parked around the corner from you.”
“Really? How many in there?”
“Not sure yet. Guys on the roof are watching. Just pay attention and do your job.”
The men crossed into the parking lot and came toward me. I crossed my arms over my chest and stood there, not moving, as they came within a few feet of me. The man with the briefcase leered at me, a wicked, goofy grin on his face.
“You’re the girl,” he said. “You’re Clair.” His accent was light, barely perceptible.
“That’s me,” I said. “Where’s my mom?”
“She’s nearby.” Suitcase guy laughed. “My name’s Julian, the short guy there is Bautista, and the dapper gentleman is Leonel.”
“Nice to meet you,” I said.
“Oh, come on, Clair,” Luca said, mockingly. “Don’t tell them it’s nice to see them. You don’t gotta be polite.”
I wanted to tell him to shut up, but I held my tongue.
“Polite, I like it.” Julian beamed at me. “I assume you know why you’re here.”
“You want my money,” I said. “And I want my mother.”
“That about sums it up.”
“I don’t know how you expect to get it. I don’t even have control of it yet.”
“Ah, well.” Julian held out the briefcase. He brought his other hand out of his pocket, and I flinched, afraid I’d see a gun. But he just held the case with that hand and flipped open the latches.
Inside was a stack of papers.
“We had a lawyer draw these up, you see.” The dapper gentleman named Leonel spoke up. “Not exactly ironclad, but so long as you don’t contest anything, they’ll make do.”
“And if I do contest them?” I ask.
Bautista grunted at me like a dog. “We’ll kill you,” he said.
“Now, Bautista,” Leonel said, making a disdainful face. “None of that.”
“Just telling the bitch what she wants to hear.”
“Don’t call me a bitch,” I said, almost automatically.
“Good for you,” Luca said, chuckling.
“What did you just say to me?” Bautista stared at me, eyes wide, but Julian laughed and closed the briefcase.
“I’ll apologize for my friend here,” Julian said. “He’s the least civilized of the three of us.”
“I saw you that night,” Bautista said, eyes wide. “I saw you run like a bitch. So I’ll call you what I want to call you.”
“He’ll die first,” Luca whispered, so soft.
“If you want this deal to happen, you should put your dog on a leash,” I said.
Leonel and Julian both laughed, and Bautista turned red. He took a step forward, and for a second I thought he might lash out. But Julian put a hand out and Bautista stopped himself with a growl.
“Enough of this,” Julian said. “If you sign these papers, we’ll make sure your mom walks free and we’ll leave you alone for the rest of your lives.”
“However short they may be,” Bautista said.
“Make them show her,” Luca whispered in my ear.
“I want to see her,” I said.
“I’m afraid we can’t do that,” Julian said.
“Push,” Luca whispered.
“I have to make sure she’s okay,” I said. “I need you to show me that she’s okay. I can’t just… just trust you people.”
“I understand your position,” Julian said. “But I also know that you didn’t really come here alone. I don’t know where they are, but there’s no doubt in my mind that the Leone are around here somewhere. They might even be listening in right now.”
“Keep pushing,” Luca whispered. “We need her.”
“Of course they’re here,” I said. “I’m not stupid enough to come without them. But we have a deal and they can go fuck themselves. The only thing I want is my mother.”
Julian laughed. “Where are they?”
“Rooftops,” I said.
Julian glanced at Bautista and nodded. Bautista walked away and took out a phone. He called someone, spoke rapid-fire Spanish, nodded back at Julian.
“Okay then,” Julian said. “You were honest with us, yeah?”
“I was honest,” I said.
“Good,” Luca whispered. “Good girl.” His voice was crooning, calming.
“Then come sign the papers.”
“Bring my mother out here, right now, and I’ll sign.”
“We can go in circles all night,” Julian said.
“I gave you something. Now you give me something. That’s how negotiations work. If you can’t come here and meet me halfway in good faith, then I’ll walk away and let you and the Leone family shoot at each other. Honestly, that would probably be the best-case scenario for me.”
Julian stared at me, and I swear, my knees were shaking.
But I felt strangely in control. Like I was finally at a point where I’d do anything, truly do anything, and nothing else mattered. Even if these three men would kill me, and I was sure that they would, it just didn’t affect anything I was going to say or do.
In the end, I had to save my mother. That was all that mattered.
“Fine,” Julian said, and snapped his fingers at Bautista, who took out his phone again, made another call, hung it up.
“They’re moving,” Luca whispered. “Car doors opening. I see her right now.”
I almost answered. I really almost answered, my mouth opened, I was on the verge of speaking, but then I shut my mouth before the words could come out. I was sure they noticed, sure they saw that little lapse, but they didn’t mention anything.
We stood in silence for two minutes, until my mother appeared around the corner, shepherded by two bald men with no necks and dark jackets. She started running toward me when they reached the parking lot, but one of them grabbed her elbow.
“Mom,” I said. “Mom, are you okay? Did they hurt you?”
“No,” she said, glaring back at her captives. “They didn’t hurt me, because they don’t want to make their mothers ashamed of them.”
One bald monster rolled his eyes.
“We’re not unreasonable men,” Julian said. “We didn’t beat her, didn’t hurt her. We will though, certainly we will, but it didn’t come to that. We’re happier for it, I think we’re all happier for it.”
“What now?” I asked, but I wasn’t talking to Julian.
“Getting into position,” Luca whispered, and I heard a bit of static over the line as he began to move. “Stall them.”
“Now you sign,” Julian said. “We make it nice and official. Then you walk away with your mother. Your life won’t have changed at all, and nobody got hurt. All very civilized.”
I took a step forward. Julian opened the briefcase again and offered it to me.
I took it, put it on the ground, and knelt in front of it.
He leaned down, looking over my shoulder. I found a pen tucked into a little pocket, took it out, clicked it open, then began to skim the first page.
“Don’t read it,” Julian said, his voice soft, his breath warm on my neck. “Don’t waste your time. Just sign the fucking thing.”
“I’m not letting you take more than you’re owed,” I said. “So unless you want me to get a lawyer to go through this, you better let me read it.”
He chuckled darkly, but didn’t argue.
The lawyer-speak flowered in front of my eyes and made no sense.
It didn’t matter. I skimmed, kept skimming, pretended to go through it. I initialed the f
irst page, flipped it, read on.
As far as I could tell, it wanted me to sell my soul and my firstborn child.
“Another minute,” Luca whispered, sounding distant. “Just hold on.”
“What does this mean?” I said, jabbing the pen at a random clause.
Julian grabbed the paper from my hand and held it inches from his nose. He squinted, shook his head, shoved it back at me.
“Who the fuck cares? Sign the goddamn thing and move on.”
He was on edge. I initialed the bottom with shaking hands, flipped to the next page, skimmed it, and signed. I had another six pages to go, and I hadn’t actually absorbed a single word.
None of it mattered. My heart was beating, my arms sweating. I could smell the ink and I thought I tasted something metallic on my tongue.
“What’s taking so long?” Leonel asked.
“Hurry the bitch up,” Bautista said. “Fuck, it’s hot, it’s late, and I’m exhausted.”
“Honey, you take your time, okay?” Mom’s voice sounded like she was annoyed about the whole thing. “Don’t let these men rush you.”
I looked up, trembling. Julian crouched down next to me.
“You’re stalling,” he said. “You think the Leone family’s going to save you. But listen, little girl. They’re not coming, that much is clear. The rooftops are empty. You’re all alone out here.”
“The rooftops are empty?” I asked, surprised.
They were supposed to be up there.
I wasn’t lying when I told them that.
“Ready,” Luca whispered. “When I say so, you hit the ground. Okay?”
“Our guys are up there now,” Julian said. “So sign the papers, get this over with, and we can all move on with our lives.”
I took a deep breath and looked at him. I nodded, trembling, and initialed another page.
“Down,” Luca said. “Now!”
I threw the paper aside, and hit the ground hard. I covered my head as something exploded above me. I heard a grunt and something wet splashed the back of my neck.
“What the fuck?” Leonel said.
“Fuck!” Bautista’s grunt. “Fuck! Fuck!”
More explosions. It took me a second to recognize gunfire from somewhere close. I rolled onto my side, covering my head, and saw my mom standing there, frozen, her eyes wide. One of the men tried to grab her and pull her away.