“I’m not married,” I say quickly. “There’s no father.”
Evan side-eyes me and frowns. “Really. That’s not like you.”
“You don’t know what’s like me anymore, Evan. Things happen, sometimes they don’t go as planned.”
His gaze darkens. “Tell me about it.”
An unease creeps into my stomach. There’s a tension in him, something different, an underlying sense of desperation.
“So, does the father pay up at least?”
“He’s dead,” I snap.
Evan’s mouth forms into an O, and for a moment he looks like a fish out of water. “I’m sorry,” he says, and he does sound like he means it, making me soften a little. This is just Evan, after all. He’s not inherently bad, just really stupid. He cheated on me, sure, but I’m lucky our marriage ended, I’d have been miserable in the long run.
“Thanks. It’s fine.”
It’s not, but isn’t that what you say between strangers? Everything is fine, no need to lay your burdens on someone else.
Evan comes to a halt and pushes open a door to a little coffee shop, old-fashioned, dark wood, cramped with tiny tables and only two other customers, huddled over a laptop each at the far end of the little room.
We have to lift the stroller down two stone steps and Evan keeps the door open with a foot while we maneuver past the obstacles.
“Couldn’t you have found a smaller place?”
He laughs. “I like it here. They have a mean espresso. What can I get you?”
“Chocolate muffin, and a latte.”
“Coming right up.” He turns toward the counter as Cecilia throws up her deep brown eyes and peers curiously around her.
“And a carton of apple juice, if they have any,” I half-shout.
He waves in acknowledgement.
“Hey, sweetheart. Wanna sit on my lap?”
“Sit. Come,” she exclaims and raises her chubby little arms toward me. I unbutton her yellow spring jacket and pull it off her before I hoist her up.
“Mommy, nam-nam?”
I laugh. The little sweet-tooth. “Mommy’s only having coffee.” I wince when I realize I’m lying. “And we’ll share yum,” I add.
Cecilia beams up at me and then takes stock of our surroundings as Evan comes back with two cups, one small and one large, placing them on the table. On instinct I immediately push mine out of Cecilia’s too-long reach.
“Hey, little one,” he says and bends over to catch her attention. Her eyes fixate on his beard and her mouth falls open as she reaches for him. “Look what Uncle Evan’s got!” He holds up the apple juice and a big grin spreads on my daughter’s face as she glances between me and the packet. Cecilia looks more and more like Christian every day, and when she smiles, it’s almost as if his soul makes a brief visit. It still hurts. It’s been almost six months, and I wonder when I’ll ever be free of him.
I pull myself back to the present and nod. “Go ahead. It’s for you, sweetie.” She reaches for it, and I mouth a thank you to my ex-husband.
“So, Kerry, what’ve you been up to? And a baby? Oh my God!”
“Are you still with that blonde?” I counter. I don’t care, he can have a harem of blondes, or any color of women, but I want to deflect that question.
He has the decency to blush. He always did blush easy. “No,” he mumbles. It only lasted a few months.”
“Way to go to end a marriage over.”
“Ker, I never told you how sorry I am.”
“Yeah, you did. I think that was all I heard for about seven months while our lawyers settled the deal.”
Evan looks at his espresso. “I fucked up,” he mumbles.
“Yeah, you really did.”
Cecilia reaches for the muffin, and I break a little piece for her.
“I’m not doing well, Kerry.”
Something in his voice makes me look up and study him closer. “What happened?”
“I really screwed things up at work. I… borrowed some money…”
“Borrowed?”
Evan squirms. “I was stupid.”
I tense. My alarm bells go off. Something is off. Way off. “Exactly how stupid?”
It’s obvious that he itches to speak, that he carries a burden he can’t manage on his own. I’m not the one he should talk to, though. We haven’t spoken in years. There’s gotta be someone else.
“I re-married.”
My eyebrows shoot up. That was unexpected.
“She was really into my lifestyle, high maintenance… My credit cards literally burned.”
I doubt they literally burned, but whatever.
“So…?”
“I crashed. It all crashed. I took bank loans. My apartment was worth millions and it was my security.”
Oh, yes. I lived it. He made a ton of money on real estate. I gave him my everything so that he could focus on his career.
“Then the banks wouldn’t lend me more so I… I took some money from the firm.”
“You did what? You stole money, Evan?”
I can’t believe what I’m hearing. He was always a little bit naive, but that’s so not like him. He always knew right from wrong. Did he? says a little voice at the back of my head. He cheated on you. For six months he went and fucked another woman.
“I was terrified of losing everything.”
“You could’ve come clean with her.”
Evan licks his lips and looks out the window. Cecilia pulls out the straw from the juice packet, spraying us with little drips. I put it back down.
“Let it stay there, honey.” I give her another piece of the muffin that I have yet to try myself, but I have no appetite.
“She’s so cute,” says Evan as he grabs a napkin and wipes his face. “Her eyes, hair, she’s really dark, nothing like you. Is— Was the dad dark?”
I inhale raggedly, the reminder of Christian aches. “Yes. Why didn’t you just talk to her?”
“I… When the company found out I stole from them, they threatened me with prosecution.”
“Naturally,” I say.
Evan presses his lips together. “I guess,” he mutters. “Anyway, I got them back the money and they settled on kicking me out and never pressed charges.”
“Where did you get that money?” A crawling, nasty foreboding is settling in my stomach. He did something bad, something really bad.
“I borrowed from Suzanne’s dad.”
“Okay. And?”
“He really wants his money back.”
“I can imagine he would. What does your wife say about this, then? Does she know?”
“She left me.”
“Oh.”
“I gave her everything, and she fucking went and annulled the marriage, as if what we had was worth nothing.”
Pushing down the rage that threatens to flare up, I laugh inwardly at the irony. He gave her everything? Much like I did in our marriage.
“Her dad’s not a good man, Kerry. He’s threatening to break every bone in my body if I don’t pay him back, and I don’t have the money, I can’t.”
“What the fuck, Evan? How can you be so stupid?”
He hangs his head. “I don’t want to die,” he whispers. “They’ll kill me.”
“Who is he?”
“He’s not a good guy. Better if you don’t know his name.”
An awful suspicion makes my heart suddenly slam in my chest, making the room tilt.
“Evan! Tell me his name! You have to tell me his name!”
“Charlie. It’s Charlie Richter, Ker. He owns casinos in Vegas, a bunch of them. He’s loaded. And dangerous.”
I don’t know any Richter, and it seems I should be happy for it. Leaning back in my chair, I exhale with relief. For a moment, I was so sure it was Salvatore. Not that I know if he has a daughter eligible for marriage, but I was just so damn sure.
“Mommy! More!” Cecilia pulls at my sleeve, pointing at the crumbled remains of the muffin.
“Sure,
” I say absentmindedly.
“Evan… the alimony.”
“I’ll pay it,” he says quickly. “You were the only good thing that ever happened in my life. I will honor our agreement.”
“Where does the money come from?”
“It’s… from the loan.” He winces and looks down at his hands. They’re clutched into tight fists, his knuckles white.
Suddenly I feel genuinely sorry for him. We did have good times. We were friends once, laughed, shared our lives.
“Evan. I don’t want the rest. Please stop paying. I’ll talk to my lawyer and put it on paper.”
A slight relief lightens his features. “No, I insist. It’s not your fault.”
“Evan! Don’t you see? I don’t want dirty money! I won’t take it.” My life is so full of dirt anyway. I wade in it. I don’t want to be involved in even more. “Since how long?”
“How long what?”
“When did you steal from the firm?”
“Kerry—”
“When?”
“It’s… about three years ago.”
I shake my head. Poor, stupid Evan. “I’ll pay you back every dime since that moment. Maybe that will help some? With this Richter?”
Evan winces.
“You borrowed much more?”
He scoffs. “Yeah,” he says on an exhale. “A lot more.”
Clenching my jaw, I fight down the anger that wells up in me. “No matter if it helps or not, I don’t want that money. If you won’t take it, I’ll give it away to charity.”
Evan suddenly leans forward, grabs one of my hands and kisses it. “You’re amazing. You always were amazing. You’re so wise, and good, and kind, and—”
I scoff inwardly, bitterly. I am so not wise. I’m so incredibly stupid. But that’s nothing I’ll share with Evan.
“I need to go.” I stand and grab a napkin, wiping off the crumbs from around Cecilia’s mouth. Her hands are sticky and she puts her fingers in her mouth, sucking them.
“Muffn,” she says and looks questioningly at me.
“Muffin,” I correct her.
Evan shoots to his feet. “I’ll help you.”
We make our way up the stairs. My stomach churns as I look at him. I don’t like that he’s in trouble. He’s made some really, really bad choices, but he doesn’t deserve to get hurt over them.
“I’ll be in touch,” I say.
Evan attacks me with a firm hug. I pat him awkwardly.
“Thank you, Kerry! For everything. I’m so happy I met you today!”
I’m not, but I give him a skewed smile and turn the stroller back toward the docks. I feel as if my life just took a turn for the worse. How will this affect me? Why did he have to show up and unload his shit on me? I have enough trouble as it is. Salvatore hasn’t been in touch. Yet. Every day I live in terror, fearing the call, fearing men suddenly appearing in front of me, demanding I come with them. It’s a nightmare I can’t wake from. I really didn’t need more of the same.
Chapter 16
Kerry
I stand outside the university. It’s been settled with the dean and I can pick up where I left off. I have a lot of catching up to do, and I decide to wait with any other commitments. I paid back everything to Evan, everything from when he stole from his company. I know I could keep it, but it makes me sick. I don’t want to see him get hurt, I don’t want to know what he does with the money. I still have savings, but I’m gonna have to look for a paid job soon. Mom has a contact, some old friend of Dad’s. I really do want to work with kids and his wife runs a daycare for children with special needs. It would be perfect. I hope that it will work out. I don’t want to be dependent.
I’ve found a daycare for Cecilia. She’ll be two years old soon and she is very social, very easy to get along with, and very curious about other people. It’s not fair to keep her hidden. I clench up at the thought of not keeping her in my sight at all times. What if Salvatore just takes her? What if she’s gone one day when I come to pick her up? But seven months have passed, and there’s been nothing but silence. I’ve slowly begun to relax, to allow the fear to subside. The only thing that remains as strong as ever is the aching hole her father left in me.
The sky is cloudy, orange-tinged, and the air is humid. There’s talk of a storm rolling in tonight. They come early this year, it’s still spring. I can’t help but smile, thinking about how I’ll sit with a glass of white wine and rest my eyes on the fury of the ocean as the waves pummel the beach.
Twisting the tendrils of hair at my neck, flipping them between my index and middle fingers, I turn the stroller north and start walking along the narrow sidewalk, avoiding the largest cracks in the concrete. My hair is still short, but it has a ragged style to it I like very much, a styled style. I had the hairdresser get rid of the black. They had to dye it red, but it’s close enough to my natural color. I wonder what he would have thought of it.
And I really don’t know why I just wondered that. I have to stop thinking about him. He’s a monster. He helped us, sure, but at his core, he’s like Salvatore, a stone-cold murderer.
I’m so happy I can start studying again. I need it for my sanity, for my mind. I need to feel like I’m doing something. I can’t just drift.
Cece sleeps like a log, her dark hair curled against her forehead in the moist heat. I walk on light feet until I reach the shore where I struggle against the wind for a while before I hail a taxi that takes us home.
San Francisco
Christian
She doesn’t know I’m watching her.
She doesn’t flinch when strangers pass too close, and she doesn’t glance over her shoulder time and time again. If she did know I was here, though, she’d know she has nothing to be afraid of.
I really do hope she’d know that.
They are beautiful together. Cecilia has grown since I last saw her. She’s a self-conscious little lady, trotting next to her mother, cute, her dark hair tied into ponytails, bouncing as she runs in circles, jumps, runs back and forth. Just as active as ever. I smile when I see her. I can still recall the feeling of the little body in my arms, fever-hot, still, a heart thumping rapidly. An involuntary shudder passes through me, as always, when I remember how she slid and disappeared over that edge.
I want to touch them.
Them.
Cecilia.
Kerry.
Her hair has grown, it’s back to its beautiful red, and I do believe she’s actually paid for a haircut because she doesn’t look like she ran over herself with the lawnmower anymore. They look happy, relaxed, but I detect a briefly passing haunted look on Kerry’s features from time to time, like an underlying sadness. I can’t imagine why. Everything has turned out for the best for her. As far as she knows I’m dead, she has no need to look over her shoulder anymore. And still… she kind of does.
I should keep away. But I already know I won’t.
I can’t.
Chapter 17
Christian
She’s on her way to the university again. It’s the third time since I started watching them. This time is different, though. She has left Cecilia at a small daycare. Seven kids. Different ages. I checked the staff. Just a couple of speeding tickets. No pedophiles. Had there been one, I’d have killed him. Or her.
I’m conflicted.
I want her to be with our daughter and not leave her in the hands of strangers.
Her eyes were sad when she jumped in her car after leaving Cecilia, but when she went home that afternoon she had a new posture.
Proud. Alive.
Something I remember from a very long time ago.
“How’s everything with my favorite nephew?” Salvatore sits with his feet propped up on the table, a newspaper and a cup of espresso next to him.
I stick a new toothpick between my teeth, dropping the one I just broke on the table. Salvatore looks disapprovingly between the little piece of wood and me, but doesn’t comment on it.
“I need
something to do.”
“I don’t know what to use you for.”
Pain laces my chest. I’m worthless to him. I know nothing of any other life. I don’t know what to do with myself.
“There’s gotta be something.”
“I have people managing my paperwork, and you’re not trained for that. You’re muscle, Christian, not brain. No matter how much it pains me to say it, in your current condition, there’s nothing for you.”
“I know security systems like my own back pocket. I can do tech.”
“Yeah, got no use for that. I want my men capable in a fight, no matter what else they do.”
I’m quiet, my mind spinning. I’m weak, useless, damaged.
“You were my best man, Christiano. You’re still the closest thing I have to a brother, and that will never change. You’ll never lack anything, I’ll provide for you, but right now… I can’t put you to work for me. If shit went down, you couldn’t defend yourself and you’d put every-fucking-one at risk, and you know it.”
I lean my elbows on the table and rub my hands over my face. “Fuck, Luci. I’m going insane.”
“You have something beautiful out there, that you refuse to acknowledge. Why don’t you go pursue her? Them? You asked me to stay away. I’m staying away. But if you don’t get your shit together and go get your woman, I’ll fucking bring her here, her and the child, because my patience is running out.”
“She’s happy, you fuck! She’s making a life for herself, finally, the life I took from her. I can’t fucking barge in and destroy it all over again.”
“Mind your fucking language when you’re addressing me! I don’t know who you are anymore, Chris! You’ve gone soft. You’re a fucking wuss. Go claim your woman, or I’ll do it for you. I’ll get her here and make her and the little one live under my roof. Don’t think for a moment I’d hesitate. You’ve got one week to pull yourself together. You hear me? I’m fed up with your wallowing. Maybe, if you start acting like a man, I could have use for you, but as it is now… it makes me sick just looking at you. One week. Now get out of my sight for fuck’s sake.”
Absolution Savage Duet Part Two: Russo Saga Part Five Page 13