by B. B. Hamel
He stood up abruptly. His chair legs ground against the floor. He paced to the oven and stood there staring at it. I could tell he was seething with anger. When he turned, his face was a mask.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said.
“Sit down with Don Leone,” I said. “Work out an arrangement. Hell, get him to buy you off so you can just leave this city.”
“I came here to get closer to you, kid,” he said. “I can’t just walk away. My reputation’s at stake.”
“So this isn’t about me then.”
“It is,” he said. “And it was. But now I’ve gone too far.”
“So it’s about you again then,” I said. “It’s all about your reputation.”
“What I do, I can’t afford to look soft. If I look soft for one second, they put a bullet in my head.”
“Then you shouldn’t have come here.”
“Too fucking late for that.”
“Dad. Sit down. Make a deal. You can both profit from this, you know it’s true.”
“Tanner told you that, huh?” He cocked his head. “I know he’s been talking to the Leones. I know he’s been pushing them to make some deal. Is this your way of playing his game? Is that why you’re here?”
I wanted to stand up and scream in his face. I wanted to shout that I was pregnant and I was terrified. I ran away from Tanner because I was too scared to be around him anymore, even if he’s been the only person to really protect me in this whole thing.
“No,” I said. “I’m telling you to make that deal for your sake. And for mine. Tanner’s not a part of this anymore.”
“Yeah, I bet. Probably you get a cut of whatever deal I make, huh? Is that how you arranged it?”
“Dad,” I said, feeling my anger rise. “You want me to stay? You want to have a relationship? Then you better get control of yourself.”
He opened his mouth and was about to say something but snapped it shut instead. He turned away from me and gripped the counter. He took deep breaths before turning back.
“All right,” he said. “I’ll think about it. I’ll make some overtures and see what they say.”
“Thank you,” I said. “I know I can’t ask for more than that.”
“But you better understand me. If the Leones try to fuck me, or they don’t want to sit down and have a civilized conversation, I’m not backing off. I’m not going to let those fucks push me around and try to kill my daughter without some payback.”
I nodded and sipped my coffee. “Okay,” I said. “That’s fair.”
He seemed to relax a little. “There’s a spare room upstairs,” he said. “I’ll go make it up. You can sleep more, if you want. You look tired. Did you ditch out on him before he woke up?”
“No,” I said. “He went for breakfast or coffee or something.”
“Smart. Take your opportunity when it presents itself.” He turned and walked to the kitchen door. “Take your time eating. Your room’s first on the right.” He disappeared into the living room then I heard him head up the steps.
I slumped forward, my heart racing.
Coming here was a stupid mistake. But I felt like I had nowhere else to go. My father was still a bastard, a liar, and a monster, and nothing was going to change that, not even his grandchild. I knew it and there was nothing I could do.
But I was here. At least I could try and get him to do this deal and end this nightmare. Then once the dust settled, I could leave the city for good and find a new place to hide out from him. Somewhere I can raise my baby away from this violence and this insanity.
One day at a time. Right now, I need to survive this. Then I can worry about my child’s future.
22
Tanner
The window shattered in the still, dark night. Glass tumbled into the dark kitchen and scattered across the hard wood floor. I reached in and unlocked the top bolt and the knob then pushed the back door open.
It was quiet and still. I stood there, Glock in my hand, waiting and listening. I heard nothing, no footsteps, no creaks. I stepped over the glass, careful not to make any more noise and dropped the wadded-up old t-shirt on the kitchen table. I’d used it to muffle the noise of the breaking glass and to keep the shards from cutting my hand.
I stepped through the kitchen and into a nice, modern living room. The couch was low and comfortable. Baby stuff was piled in one corner. The place wasn’t at all what I pictured. A Pack and Play was shoved against the far wall. Toy blocks were scattered on the expensive-looking carpet. The television was mounted above a fireplace and pictures of a cute little family lined the mantel beneath it.
I picked a picture up. Dante grinned out at me with his wife and his baby. I made a face and put it back.
Then heard the creak.
I moved to the stairs, gun up and ready. Dante stared at me in the dark, his own gun pointed at my face. He stood halfway down the stairs in a pair of boxer briefs and a tight white t-shirt.
We didn’t say a word for one long moment.
“You could’ve called,” he said at last.
“Wasn’t sure you’d answer.”
“I’m not stupid enough to ignore you.”
“I thought this would make my point.”
Dante grunted, didn’t move his gun. “What do you want, Tanner?”
“I want to talk.”
“Hard to talk with a gun in my face.”
“Lower yours,” I said. “And I’ll lower mine.”
“You broke into my house. My wife and kid are up there.”
“I know,” I said. “I wanted to make a point.”
“Which is what?”
“I know where you sleep.” I tilted my head. “And next time, I won’t make any noise when I come in.”
He lowered his gun with a disgusted noise. I lowered mine but didn’t put it away. He came down the steps, walked past me, and headed into the kitchen. I thought it was pretty brave that he turned his back to me.
He put his gun down on the table, opened a little closet, and brought out a broom. He began to sweep up the glass.
I lingered in the kitchen doorway before putting my gun back into my waistband and crossing my arms.
“Kid’s starting to walk,” he said. “Can’t have glass around.”
“That’s cute,” I said.
He just grunted. “What do you want?”
“We need to talk about Elise.”
“Not much to say, there,” he said. “I want her dead. You want her alive. Blah blah blah.” He sighed and found a dustpan before sweeping the glass into it. “I don’t know why we keep going over this.”
He dumped the glass into a trashcan then leaned against the counter.
“She ran to her father,” I said.
Dante looked surprised. His eyebrows shot up and he tilted his head. “So what the fuck are you doing here, then?” he asked. “The girl left. She’s not your problem anymore.”
“She’s still very much my problem.” I paused, looked back at the baby toys on the floor, and cursed. “She’s pregnant.”
Dante laughed. It was like he couldn’t help it. He put his hands to his face and laughed then shook his head like he couldn’t believe a word I just said.
“You’re joking, right?”
“I got her pregnant,” I said. “First night we met, I bet. Wasn’t careful.”
“Holy shit,” he said. “You’re really not joking.”
“Just found out. I think it scared her, so she went running back to her father.”
“She’s pregnant with a killer’s baby. Can you blame her?”
I grimaced. “No. I understand what she’s feeling.”
“I doubt that very much.” Dante turned and opened a cabinet.
I tensed, ready to pull my gun. He brought down a bottle of whiskey and two glasses. I relaxed as he filled them and placed mine on the table.
He held his glass up. “To fatherhood,” he said.
I took my glass, helped it up,
and drank. “Good stuff,” I said.
Dante stared at me, sipped his whiskey, and refilled his glass. He held the bottle toward me and I accepted a refill.
“Let me give you some advice,” he said.
“That’s not really why I’m here.”
He held up a hand. “Humor me.”
“Fine.”
“Babies are a different thing for men,” he said. “For women, babies mean their whole life is about to change, whether they want it to or not. Their bodies change, their lifestyles change. They can mitigate those changes, of course, but it’s never the same.”
“Babies affect men too,” I said.
“Not the same, not really.” Dante took a deep breath and let it out. “It’ll change your life, of course. I’m not the same man I was before the baby. Gino came along and changed everything, but for me it was almost superficial, you know?”
“I don’t,” I said.
“Aida does everything for that boy. We both love him, and I do as much as I can, but I work all the time. When a woman gets pregnant, she knows it means her whole life’s about to be radically different in so many ways. Women see it, you know, they’re told their whole lives what it means to be a mother. When it happens, I don’t know, man, shit just gets real.”
“So you’re saying that I can’t understand how she’s feeling right now?” I asked.
“Pretty much. Girl’s going through some shit. She’s pregnant by a guy she barely knows, a guy that was supposed to kill her a few weeks ago. Her whole life got flipped around and she’s probably feeling pretty lost.”
“I appreciate the fatherly advice,” I said. “But it doesn’t change my situation.”
“Maybe you give her some space, yeah?” He tilted his head, finished his drink. “Might be good for you both.”
“Give me her father’s address.”
“Why do you think I have it?”
“Dante.”
He grunted and waved a hand at me. He rattled off an address and I committed it to memory. He finished his drink and poured another. I sipped my second but tried to keep a cool head.
“Just saying, don’t go rushing off and do something stupid.”
“What do you care?” I asked. “You’re killing the girl, right?”
He laughed. “Fair enough. Guess I’ve got a soft spot.”
“She’s pregnant with my baby, Dante.”
His laughter faded. “Yeah, I hear you.”
“And you want to kill her.” I tilted my head. “Explain to me why I shouldn’t start killing your whole crew, one after the other?”
“Because you know it doesn’t end with me. I’m just the messenger. It’s the Don you gotta worry about. Plus, I actually still like you.”
I grunted and tapped my foot. A tiny piece of glass glittered nearby. I kicked it over toward him.
“Thanks,” he said, stooped and picked it up.
I pulled my gun and had it pressed against his head before he could stand.
He looked up at me, fingers clutching the glass.
“She’s pregnant with my kid,” I said. “That means however hard you’ve tried to bring Don Leone to the table, you’d better try twice as hard.”
“I hear you,” he said, and slowly straightened up.
A few weeks ago, I would’ve put a bullet in his head. It wouldn’t be so hard to kill him and get away before the cops showed. I knew they’d chalk it up to a mob hit and not bother looking very closely, if the Don let them look at it at all. I’d walk away from it unscathed and never think twice.
But Dante was as close to a friend as I had. Killing him would mean I’d be finished with the Leone family forever, and maybe I wasn’t ready to do that just yet.
Or maybe I wasn’t ready to deprive little baby Gino of his father.
I lowered the gun and put it away.
“Guess I’m going soft,” I said.
“Lucky for me.”
“Get your boss to sit down with her father,” I said. “I’ll get her father to do the same. If you don’t want this to escalate any further than it already has, then you’d better make that shit happen.”
Dante nodded. “I will.”
“Good.” I put my gun away and walked to the back door. “Don’t be stupid, Dante. Killing the girl won’t profit you.”
“I never wanted any of this, if that helps at all,” he said. “But you know how these things go. Once we pick a lane, it’s hard to shake out of it.”
“Institutionalism,” I said. “Fucks up even the mafia.” I pulled open the door and stepped out into the night.
I felt Dante’s eyes on me as I left, but I didn’t look back. I hopped his back fence and landed hard in the small alley behind his place. I walked past a tipped-over plastic trash can and out onto the main sidewalk. I shoved my hands in my pockets and kept my head down as I walked.
I kept thinking about what Dante said. About how Elise’s life was going to change, and mine might not. Everything about her was about to shift irrevocably and it was up to me to step up and do something about it.
Even if she didn’t want it, or didn’t know she wanted it.
That was my baby. I wasn’t going to let her go through this alone.
I’d be there for her. I’d be there for my child.
I wasn’t going to let her feel alone.
23
Elise
I barely left that spare room for an entire day. I drifted from the bed to the bathroom and back into bed. The only time I went into the kitchen was when I got desperate for food and I knew my father was out.
Otherwise, I stewed under the covers and thought about how my life was over.
I couldn’t imagine what I was going to do. I was pregnant with some murderer’s baby, and I kept thinking about how the baby might end up being some kind of psychopath. I knew that sort of thing could run in families, and I was so scared that I had my father’s genes in me, plus whatever made Tanner into a killer. This baby had no chance at a normal life, not with a mom like me and a father like him.
And yet this baby was my responsibility. I was pregnant, and my whole life was about to change. I knew it as well as I knew anything. I still couldn’t turn my back on this child, even if I wanted to.
Coming back to my father’s place was a mistake. As soon as I cooled off, I knew I screwed up. My father was much worse than Tanner in the grand scheme of things. Tanner killed people for a living, but my father destroyed lives and cities for his own profit. My father was truly a monster, while Tanner was just a psycho trying to make a living the best way he knew how.
And besides, Tanner saved my life more than once.
Watching Bennigan die broke me. It snapped something inside of me that I didn’t know could be snapped. I woke up the next morning and felt like everything inside of me had seeped out, and all I could do was run away. But after a good night’s sleep and some time, I was starting to come back to myself, a little bit at least.
I couldn’t stay with my father. I couldn’t go back to Tanner, even if I wanted to in some deep, dark portion of my mind. There was nothing for me, and I felt so broken, so shattered, that I thought maybe I’d just fall asleep and never wake up.
Except I kept waking up, and the world was still there.
After a day of lounging around in bed feeling sorry for myself, I heard my father leave. I snuck out of the room, took a shower, and crept down the stairs.
“Dad?” I called out.
Silence, no response. The house was empty.
I went into the kitchen and made some dinner. My father didn’t have much in the house, which didn’t surprise me. I had a hot dog and some mac and cheese, the kind that comes in a blue box with the bright orange fake cheese sauce that looks like some monster’s ectoplasm, but it was delicious and threw me back to my childhood. I curled up on a chair in the kitchen and ate the thing whole, made a second hot dog, and ate that, too.
Before I could go upstairs, I heard a sound out back.
I hesitated before going to the window. Some part of me thought I should just duck back upstairs and hide under my covers. It didn’t matter what was going on outside, nothing mattered anymore.
But I couldn’t help myself. I pulled the curtain aside and peered out at the dark back patio.
A figure sat at the little metal table with a glass of something in front of him.
I unlocked the back door and slipped outside. Tanner looked up at me, moonlight reflecting off his face, making the skin around his eyes glow.
“Glad you came out,” he said.
I lingered near the doorway, half inside, half outside. I crossed my arms over my chest. Part of me was relieved to see him sitting outside my door, and part of me wanted to run away and never look back.
“What are you doing here?” I asked.
“Came to talk.”
“How’d you find this place?”
“Asked Dante,” he said.
I glanced at the table. I recognized that glass. A shiver ran down my spine as I realized he’d already broken inside, taken a glass, poured himself a drink, then went back outside and sat down to wait. He could’ve come up and talked to me at any point, but instead he did this.
“I guess I shouldn’t be surprised,” I said. “Of course they know where he lives.”
Tanner shrugged as if to say, can’t be surprised by anything.
“Sit down,” he said. “Talk to me.”
“I can talk from here.”
He sipped his drink. “All right.”
“What do you want?”
“You’re pregnant.” Not a question. Not an accusation. Just a statement of fact.
“Yeah,” I said. “I am.”
“When did you figure it out?”
“The night I ran off,” I said. “I went and took some tests. My period was late, and my period’s never late, so I just… I don’t know. I took some tests.”
“Positive,” he said.
“Yeah.” I chewed my lip. “I’m sorry.”
“You don’t have to apologize.”
“I didn’t mean for this to happen.”
He shifted in his chair. “Elise. You know none of this is your fault, right?”