Mafia Captive

by Kitty Thomas

  Something tightened in her gut. Faith was only concerned about Caprice for what it could mean for her safety. Right? Surely she wasn’t worried Caprice might steal him away based on some misguided attraction. Wanting Leo would be suicide. He’d already made plain the nature of his desires. The thought of what he might be into chilled her blood.

  Caprice’s inappropriate flirtation was cut short when they reached Leo’s mom. Gina looked back at Faith and then whispered something to Leo.

  Faith didn’t give two hoots what his family thought about it. She may be a lapsed Catholic, but she wasn’t about to go receive the body and blood without having her sins purged. It wasn’t worth the risk to her soul. Let them think what they wanted. This farce had gone too long anyway.

  Watching the mobsters participate in the ritual, she wondered how many of them had recently killed or beaten someone or committed some other crime. She wondered if they’d gone to confession and if so, what they possibly could have told the priest to absolve themselves for their crimes.

  Faith glanced to her right and noticed Uncle Sal hadn’t moved from his spot. His hard look met hers for the briefest guilty moment, then he looked away quickly. The rest of the family was in line going to the front. Even Angelo and Davide, who were sinning on a regular basis according to the Church. She very much doubted they’d been to confession, either.

  When Leo and his mother returned, Gina sat beside Faith and patted her hand. “It’s all right, dear,” she said.

  Faith looked to Leo who shook his head. Whatever lie he’d fed his mother to appease her, Faith didn’t want to know about.

  The snow had stopped falling at some point during the service. When they got outside, the clouds had drifted away to leave a cold, crisp night with stars that looked like brilliant pieces of glittering ice. It was barely Christmas morning, and instead of being alone in her apartment with her cat feeling sorry for herself, she was surrounded by people she suddenly wished were her family, even if there were a few killers in the mix. It was a family. And for all their faults and crimes, they loved each other.

  The kids ran ahead and began making snowballs. One of the snowballs—thrown by a nephew—narrowly missed Leo, only to clip Faith on the ear. Everyone stopped and stared, waiting for her reaction.

  She dropped her bag in the snow and formed a ball of her own to throw back, hitting Dante in the shoulder. The fight was on in earnest. Faith was surprised to see how spry Gina and Uncle Sal could be when balls of frozen water were involved. Sal’s grim darkness melted in the face of play, and even Angelo was less severe and threatening. For a moment she could pretend these were normal people who just really liked spaghetti.

  She eased back from the fight and watched Leo. His eyes lit with glee as he threw and dodged snowballs. He was one of the few who hadn’t been hit. He was so beautiful, and decent in his way. Why couldn’t this be real? Why couldn’t he love her like a normal man? Self-pity gripped her, and a tear slid down her cheek, freezing halfway down.

  “Is he hurting you?”

  Faith spun to find Gemma lurking beside the hood of a nearby Oldsmobile like a harbinger of doom. “I’m sorry… What?” His sister had misinterpreted the self-pity for something more sinister.

  “You heard me. My brother is not the saint he pretends to be. And I think you know it. If you want my advice, get out now. Don’t trust him. All he knows how to do is lie and hurt people.”

  “I… um…” What did one say to a proclamation like that? It wasn’t as if Faith didn’t know the score. It was possible she knew more than half the women in the family, given the activity she’d caught Angelo in on the night they’d met. But Gemma wasn’t one of the naïve lambs, nor was she content to keep to the family code of silence.

  Leo’s sister looked Faith over. Once she’d seen whatever she was looking for, she said, “He killed my husband. And I suspect he wasn’t quick about it.”

  “Why would he…?”

  Before Gemma could answer, Leo ambled over. Another nephew, Michael, got him in the back of the head with a snowball when he turned from the group. “Cheap shot!” he called over his shoulder.

  “Whatever,” Michael said. “There are no rules with snowballs.”

  Leo’s attention turned to Faith and his sister. “Gemma,” he said, nodding. But his face was tight, his eyes cold and narrowed. If Faith had any doubt before, it was gone. He’d killed Gemma’s husband. She took an involuntary step back and Leo’s sharp gaze shifted from his sister to Faith. In a fluid blur of energy, he took her arm and pulled her back against him in a parody of an embrace.

  “Don’t do anything stupid,” he whispered against her ear.

  Faith froze.

  Leo returned his focus to his sister. “What interesting gossip have I missed?” His grip tightened on Faith with each syllable out of his mouth, though it appeared to be an unconscious action on his part.

  “That’s on a need-to-know basis. Like every fucking thing else in this twisted family,” Gemma retorted.

  “Don’t test me,” Leo said. “What did you say to her?”

  By now, family members had dropped their clumps of snow and drifted closer to hear the commotion, except for the few adults who were herding the children away into their cars—sensing things were about to turn very mature. The other parishioners had left during the snowball fight, and the priest had retired to the rectory. It was just adult family members now. And Faith.

  “I don’t think you want to open that can right now,” Gemma said, “Not in front of the whole family.”

  “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean,” Leo said. The warning in his tone was unmistakable.

  “Let’s put it this way. You’re the only member of the family I’m a hundred percent sure is a murderer.”

  There was a thud as a body hit the ground.

  “Grammie!” Leo shouted.

  “It’s okay,” Sal said when he reached Alba. “She just fainted.”

  Gina crossed herself. “It can’t be true. My Leo’s such a good boy. He would never hurt a fly.”

  “Fuck,” Leo muttered. “He broke Gemma’s jaw and one of her ribs. She was a mess the night she came to my house. And it wasn’t the first time. He would have killed her eventually, and none of you did a goddamn thing about it!”

  “Language!” Uncle Sal said.

  “Fuck language. Emilio deserved to die. Nobody touches any of my family. Being married in won’t keep you safe from me if you hurt someone I love. I don’t care if it’s not my business.” He let go of Faith and stalked toward the car.

  Gemma stood in the middle of the snow like an abandoned angel with her mouth gaping open, unable to believe the truth had been spoken.

  Everybody else went to their own cars. Maybe they were too jaded and used to pretending bad things didn’t happen to behave any differently. They’d all probably reboot like a bunch of computers and forget all this unpleasantness in the morning. Suddenly the night felt colder, so cold that it could suck the soul out of each of them, leaving only frozen corpses behind.

  “Seriously!?!” Gemma shrieked, her breath making large white puffs in the air as she spoke. “He kills my husband, and you’re all getting in your cars like it’s nothing?”

  Leo stopped and turned back to the group. “Emilio was a vicious bastard.”

  “If Leo hadn’t done it, I would have,” Sal admitted.

  “You’ll never know what it cost me to kill him,” Leo said, his voice cracking. “Never. I thought joining the priesthood would fix what’s inside me, but after Emilio I couldn’t.”

  “What did you have that needed to be fixed before killing my husband? What could you possibly have done in your perfect little life to give you a big enough complex to take holy orders? Because I know you didn’t have some big dream to become a priest.” Gemma turned to Faith. “Is this the family you want to marry into? Do you even know who the Raspallo family is?”

  “Yes,” Faith whispered. “I know.”

  G
ina crossed herself again.

  “You TOLD her?” Sal bellowed.

  Leo turned at his uncle’s gruff voice. “Of course not. But it’s not like rumors don’t fly around about us. It’s the 21st century. It’s not as if she knows any incriminating details. No more than any of the other women in this family. And my future wife is my business.” He glared daggers at Faith, as if this were her fault. Or maybe he was daring her to challenge the white lie he’d told to paint over the cracks and make things okay again.

  What was she supposed to do? Pretend she hadn’t heard what Gemma said? Act too stupid to pick up on the innuendo? It was too insulting to pretend to be that idiotic surrounded by a bunch of men that looked like they’d stepped out of Goodfellas.

  “Well, hell, why don’t we take an ad out in the paper, if everybody’s gonna know everybody’s business? It wasn’t like this when I was young,” Sal said.

  If looks could kill, Faith would be swimming with the fishes. Wisely, she chose not to verbalize the cliché. It wouldn’t endear her to Uncle Sal, who had only just made peace with her heritage.

  The ride back to the house was tense. Lily stared out the window while Gina quietly cried. Both women were trying, in their own way, to insulate themselves from the almost visible, demonic rage curling off Uncle Sal in the backseat.

  “You’d better not become a liability to us,” Sal said.

  Faith didn’t turn around. If she’d thought she wouldn’t die at the hands of a member of this family, she’d been kidding herself. What difference did it make if it was Angelo, Uncle Sal, Leo, or some random hired gun? She’d be dead no matter what. Yet something stupid inside her wanted to cling to the slim hope Leo had extended, that he was up to the task of saving her, that there was something in him that was good and decent and not like the others. Some noble instinct that had moved him in the direction of the Church and prayer instead of crime and death.

  “Sal!” Gina hissed. “Of course she’s not going to be a liability. She’s Leo’s fiancée. She’s family. How can you say such a thing?”

  “We don’t know her from Adam. Leo, you better keep your girl in line.”

  “If you’ve got a problem, you take it up with Gemma. She’s the one who opened her big mouth,” Leo said. “And you will leave Faith out of this. I wasn’t kidding back there. Faith is my concern.”

  “Are you threatening me, boy?”

  Faith clenched and unclenched her hands in her lap. She wanted to scream. She wanted to blurt out the truth. Nothing would have felt better than to say: “No need to worry. I watched Angelo mow some poor guy down in an alley. Leo and I aren’t really together. I’m his prisoner to protect you assholes.” But she was too afraid of what Leo might do to her if she lost control and spoke her mind. And the situation was too dangerous with Sal at the moment. This wasn’t a family that made idle threats.

  It was bad enough that she’d said what she’d said, admitted she wasn’t some naïve flower like she was supposed to. But Gemma had all but thrown the truth in her face. Even if she hadn’t known anything, it would be ridiculous to think she wouldn’t now. She’d rather they consider her a possible liability than a possible idiot.

  Chapter Ten

  This had to be the most fucked-up Christmas Leo had ever had. It took all his self-control not to blame Faith. The other women in the family probably knew more than they let on. They weren’t stupid. But they did their talking in private, away from the men. Never in public. It was the separation and division that was necessary for everyone to remain sane. Denial and pretending. And now it was shattered forever.

  But then, why be mad at Faith? It was Gemma who’d been the one to crack. He’d been kidding himself since Emilio. He’d comforted himself with the idea that his sister wouldn’t suspect the truth. Emilio had been into some bad shit. That created a lot of enemies. The proximity of the time of his death to her worst beating could have easily been a coincidence. It was the lie he’d repeated to himself over and over. But the tension between them over the years had proven with little doubt that she knew. And tonight he couldn’t deny it any longer.

  Once they got back to the house, Leo dragged Faith to her room. “Lock this door,” he growled.

  “Wait…”

  “WHAT?”

  She shrank back at the evidence of his temper—the temper he’d inherited from Uncle Sal. Like Sal, he’d learned to keep a lid on it most of the time, to allow bits of steam to come off the surface. Sal’s outlet was crime. Leo’s was sadomasochism, but they were both treating the same disease. And lately Leo hadn’t been able to use the release valve.

  He took a deep breath and said more quietly, “What?”

  “Are you mad at me? Gemma was the one who…”

  “I know. I’m not mad at you. I need to smooth this out with my family. Keep your door locked. I want you safe.”

  Now wasn’t the time for trembling and a quivering lip from her. Even with his family in the house, his deepest urge was to take her downstairs and fuck morals. Fuck her consent. Fuck all of it. All he wanted was to bend her bare ass over the spanking horse and light into her until she was as bright red as a Christmas ornament, then take her from behind until he was too tired to care about any of this. He wanted to stay locked down there with her in their own world until after the New Year when the house would once again be quiet and peaceful.

  Faith wrapped her arms around herself as if trying to still her trembling and nodded. “O-okay. I’m s-sorry.”

  “It’s not your fault.” He shut the door behind him, and let out a breath when he heard the lock click into place. At least she was smart enough to listen to him and not defiant enough to challenge him. Right now he couldn’t handle either stupidity or willfulness.

  The other women were sent off to their rooms to much protesting, like recalcitrant children. And the children were treated the same. The men retired to a large den Leo had created for privacy and quiet underground next to the wine cellar. They would never know that on the other side of the cellar was a locked steel door that led into a dungeon where he allowed his own brand of darkness to run free.

  The den was a cave of a room compared to the rest of the house. If any place could calm the nerves of these men, it was this place.

  He poured and passed drinks and cigars around. According to the clock on the mantle, it was past two in the morning. The kids would be up by eight screaming to open presents.

  “Ange, might I have a word with you in private?” Leo said, piercing his brother with a glare.

  Eyebrows rose around the room, but no one said anything. Although they were twins, Leo’s request for a word in private with Sal’s capo under the circumstances created a sense of greater intrigue.

  Angelo handed his glass to Davide and strode out of the room ahead of Leo. Leo rolled his eyes at his brother’s posturing, but now was a stupid time to fight for the alpha title, even in his own home. Angelo had a lot to prove already in the minds of the other men, given his orientation. Leo would give his brother this one freebie.

  He waited until they reached a far, private corner of the wine cellar to speak. With that much space and a closed den door they could be assured of some level of privacy while keeping an eye on the one exit so that nobody came out to eavesdrop, not that anybody would. Nobody in his family was that suicidal.

  “What the hell is wrong with you?” Leo asked.

  “ME!? What does this have to do with me?”

  “Oh let’s see… giving her to me for one thing. You could have killed her and never told me about it. Involving me was unfair. You shouldn’t have made her my responsibility. You shouldn’t have told me about her at all! Letting me think that I could save her… that if I didn’t it would be my fault she was dead… what is wrong with you? Do you hate me that much?” He looked down to find his hands shaking with anger, his fists clenching as everything inside him screamed to wrap those hands around his brother’s throat.

  “Marone! Are you kidding me? You’ve alway
s gotta be breaking my balls. Mother fuck.” Angelo took a slow breath to gain control of himself. “You’re my blood. My brother. But you’re so fucking uptight all the time. I wanted to give you what you wanted but didn’t have the balls to take yourself. And STILL don’t have the balls to take, it appears. She is your slave. Use her. She owes you her life. You should be collecting some form of payment. It’s such a waste giving you anything, you fucking Puritan. I don’t know why the hell I bothered.”

  “I wish you hadn’t,” Leo said. In his brother’s mind, this was still an appropriate Christmas gift. It was the recipient of the gift that was the problem. Not the gift itself. Angelo didn’t appear to grasp that giving someone a human being for Christmas wasn’t just immoral, it was gauche.

  “Don’t worry, this is the last time I try to help you in any way. Go ahead and long for what you want but can’t bring yourself to man up and take while it’s right under your nose in your goddamn house.”

  “Why did you have to tell Ma we were engaged? The family is mostly over the gay thing.”

  “Ma’s not over it. This whole week would have been all about me and Davide and how I need to settle down with a girl and give her grandchildren to carry on the family name. You know it would have. It’s time you picked up some of that slack and nagging.”

  “So now Faith is supposed to be the family brood mare because you prefer men? Even if I could use her like you suggest, you think I could ever be so cruel as to force her to bear children on top of everything else we’ve done to her?”

  Angelo shrugged. “I’ve given up trying to figure out how your mind works.”

  “Same.”

  “Are we done here?”

  “We couldn’t be more done,” Leo said. Had he expected an apology from his brother or any remorse or sign of guilt or responsibility for the way the holiday had been ruined? Of course not. Nothing was ever Angelo’s fault. There was always someone else to blame, or kill if blaming alone turned out not to be satisfying enough.

  Leo slammed the den door behind him when they returned. He took a deep breath. He had to put this fire out before it got out of control.