by Hamel, B. B.
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.
“Thanks,” she said. “You don’t have to be nice to me, you know.”
“Why not?” I asked, still staying there.
“My uncle’s going to be pissed with you. And I tricked you into it.”
“It was stupid to think you wouldn’t run,” I said. “No real reason for you to stay, not after we took away your phone.”
“I didn’t understand,” she said and looked at me with these pleading eyes that sent a thrill up my spine. “I had no clue. Do you know what I mean?”
“I hear you,” I said, my voice barely a whisper.
She opened her mouth then shut it again. I kept my fingers there until she pulled away and brushed past me. She got to her feet and walked to the stairs, moving fast, like she was physically forcing herself to run away. I watched her go and got to my feet again.
“When he comes to talk to me, I’ll tell him it wasn’t your fault,” she said.
“You do that,” I said. “But it won’t matter.”
She clenched her jaw. “Can’t you just be a little appreciative?”
I laughed and shook my head. “No, sweetheart, I can’t. I murdered a guy today for you, and I’ll murder some more if I have to. You should let that be enough.”
She shut her mouth and hung her head. “Yeah,” she said. “You did do that, didn’t you?”
Without another word, she walked up the steps. I watched her go, a strange mixture of emotions moving through me. I was tempted to follow her, but I knew she needed time to process.
Instead, I cleaned up the first aid kit, put it back into the bathroom, and went into the kitchen to make lunch.
At least I can get some food for both of us.
Killing always made me hungry.
8
Clair
I stayed in my room under the covers for the next few hours as the day slowly waned. Luca came up early on in the afternoon and put a plate of food outside my door, but didn’t come in. I got up and ate in silence, though I barely tasted anything.
The world felt gray and broken.
I watched a man die. A man that wanted to hurt me, a man that wanted to torture me and take something from me, all because some uncle I didn’t even know left me money and property. I didn’t want any of it, didn’t need any of it. I gladly would give it away if it meant nobody would come after me ever again.
And yet I couldn’t. I didn’t have access to any of it, not yet at least. The legal proceedings were still ongoing, as far as I knew an
yway.
A couple hours after sundown, I heard a car pull up outside and park. I heard a door slam shut, and then another. I heard voices, familiar voices, and heard a knock on the door downstairs.
I got out of bed and made myself presentable. I put on a long-sleeve shirt and a pair of yoga pants. I piled my hair up in a bun on my head. I stared in the bathroom mirror at myself and could have sworn I still had blood splatter on my cheek and chin, still could taste it in my mouth.
I turned away and walked out of my room, went down to the steps.
I heard them speaking in the living room, low and quiet.
“— too important,” my uncle was saying. “From now on, I need your eyes on her.”
“I’ll do what I can, sir,” Luca said.
I walked down the steps and both men turned to me. My uncle’s bodyguard stood by the door and stared at me, his eyes hard and unreadable. I stepped into the room and felt like a little girl about to get punished by my parents.
“Hello, Clair,” Uncle Luciano said.
“Hey,” I said.
“I hear you had an eventful day.”
I glanced at Luca and his expression was hard and unreadable.
“I did,” I said. “Luca here saved me.”
“That he did,” Uncle Luciano said. “But he also seems to have failed in making you understand your situation.”
“I think I understand it now.”
Uncle Luciano shook his head and leaned up against his cane. I walked further into the living room, putting myself between the men and the kitchen. I crossed my arms and wanted to move from foot to foot in nervous anticipation, but I controlled myself.
“I’m not sure you do,” he said. “You see, that man that tried to take you, he was a part of a cartel. Do you know what that means?”
“Sure,” I said. “Like one of those Mexican drug gangs.”
“Exactly,” Uncle Luciano said. “That’s exactly right. They’re called the Jalisco, and they’re one of the more powerful gangs in Mexico, though some of their power has waned in recent years.”
“I don’t get why they’d want me,” I said. “Aside from the money.”
“We’ve been at war with them,” Luca said. “They’re like cockroaches. Every time we kill a nest, there are ten more nests just waiting and breeding.”