by Naomi West
The two guards moved toward me. As they draw close, the shorter of the the two—the black-haired man with a face like a troll—holds up his hand to the wiry man.
"No," he says, his voice low and rough, like his vocal cords are covered in rust. “You had the last one; it's only fair."
"Fine, fine," says the wiry man, backing off.
The squat man approaches me and looks me over with slit eyes the color of sawdust. A smile forms on his mouth, his thick, chapped lips curling into a devious expression. Then, he pulls back his hand, and a second later, his fist flies towards me, connecting with my mouth.
The impact sends me backward into the dresser, my slight frame colliding with it, the impact feeling like it rattles my brain in my head. I feel a wetness on my mouth,and shooting pain in my lips where I was hit. I feel the thick slickness of blood, followed by the coppery taste of it in my mouth. My lip is split.
Michal, I think in desperation. Please, find me.
"God, Marley," says the wiry guard, coming in for a closer look. "You really got her!"
My hands rise in defiance, but he's only there to gawk. My vision is blurry and my ears are ringing; I don’t know if I can't take much more of this.
Eamon turns around and looks at me with a careful eye. His expression then turns into anger and he swats the squat man on the back of his head with a quick strike of his hand.
"You goddamn moron," says Eamon. "What goodi s a pretty girl if you mess up her face like that?"
"Sorry, boss," says the squat man, though his tone suggests he's not all that sorry at all.
"I swear," says Eamon. “You take just a little too much pleasure out of smacking these women around.”
The wiry man is suppressing a laugh. Eamon moves closer to inspect the damage to my face, and my hands shoot up once again.
"See? Now you got her spooked," says Eamon, shaking his head.
Then he turns back to me.
"Now, are you ready to give me what I want? Or do we have to keep, ah, arguing about it?"
I can't take anymore. I know I shouldn't relent, but I have no other option. Tears hot on my face, I nod my head.
"What was that?" says Eamon. "I think she's saying she's ready. But I need to hear it with words, my dear."
He walks slowly towards me, his steps creaking on the wood floor. When he reaches me, he squats down close enough to me that I can feel his hot breath on my face and smell the whiskey that lingers on it.
"Just say you're ready."
"I'm …ready."
My body slumps as I speak. I give up.
But before anything else can happen, a rapping sounds out from the bedroom door.
"What?" Eamon calls out, his voice booming in my ears.
"Someone's here to speak with you," comes a muffled voice through the door.
"Tell ‘em to fuck off!" shouts Eamon.
"Says it's important."
"Well, I've got something more important to deal with!"
A moment passes.
"It's the Nowak boy."
Michal!
My heart races with happiness.
"Oh, really?" says Eamon.
"Yeah. And he doesn't look too interested in waiting long."
Eamon's thick, red eyebrows crinkle as he considers the situation. But I can't think about anything other than the joy I feel knowing that Michal has come for me.
"Tell him to keep his pants on. And this better be good."
Eamon pushes himself to his feet.
"You two keep your hands off her until I get back, you hear?" says Eamon, raising his finger at the two men. "One hair out of place and all you'll have to do with her is cleaning up afterward."
The men nod, though lustful smiles are still on their faces. Eamon leaves the room, and I remain curled in a tight ball, my face throbbing with pain.
Minutes pass, and soon I hear a clatter from downstairs.
Then silence.
"Ah, you guys come down here," says Eamon finally. "And bring the girl."
The two men share a quizzical look before lifting me to my feet and hurrying me out of the room. We go down the stairs, and as excited as I am to have heard Michal's name, it is nothing compared to the joy I feel when I see what awaits us in the living room.
At the front door are two guards, both in unconscious heaps. In the middle of the room is Michal, one arm wrapped around Eamon's neck, a gun in the other hand that is pressed to the mob boss' head.
I couldn't have imagined a better sight.
"Michal!" I shout, while struggling against the grip of the guards.
A smile crosses Michal's face as he lays eyes upon me. But the expression turns grim as he realizes what they've done to me.
"Let go of her now," he demands.
The two guards look at one another, unsure of what to do. Eamon finally nods, and the two men let go of me. I want to run to Michal, but with Eamon so close to him, I don't know if it's safe.
"There, there," says Eamon. "You've got what you want. Now, why don't you take the goddamn gun off of my head and we can discuss this like mature adults?"
Michal scans the room, looking for danger.
"Tell your men to lose all of their weapons."
Eamon nods, and the guards toss their guns onto the floor.
Satisfied, Michal lets go of Eamon, who collapses onto a nearby couch. Not wanting to waste another second, I run over to Michal, his arms wrapping around me as soon as I approach.
"I never thought I'd see you again," I say, tears forming in my eyes.
"I'm here now," he says, his voice low and reassuring as he pulls me close.
"Very sweet," says Eamon, his tone annoyed. "Now, assuming you're here for the girl, you want to tell me why I shouldn't have you both killed as soon as you try to leave?"
Michel lets me go, and I move behind him.
"Because my father wants a war, and I don't."
Eamon snorts. "If you don't want a war, you've got a goddamn funny way of showing it, kid."
"I did what I did because I didn't have any other choice. I'm tired of the bloodshed; I'm tired of the fighting."
"Then you're in the wrong line of work," says Eamon.
"That's just it," says Michal. "This life—I don't want it. I want peace."
Eamon settles back into his seat.
"So, what're you proposing, exactly?"
"All that my family owns, I'm prepared to give up. You can have it. All that I ask is that you leave me and the girl alone. We'll leave the city; you'll never see us again."
Eamon snorts again. "That's quite an offer. You want to just give up everything that your father has built, just for this …girl?"
"My father's business has ruined too many lives," Michal. "If I could have something to do with putting a stop to all of the damage my father has done, to end the bloodshed that his obsession with power has caused, that would be enough for me. You can have all of it; I don't care."
"So, you're proposing to step down. And what about your father? You've got what it takes to snuff out your own old man?"
"He'll …be out of the picture," says Michal. "I can assure you of that."
"And how can I trust you?" asks Eamon, his beady eyes narrowed in skepticism.
"Because I could kill you right now if I wanted to."
Eamon seems to get the point.
"So," Eamon says. “You want to take little blondie here, leave the city, and abandon your family enterprise. And I'm free to simply walk in and take what you've left behind? Seems too good to be true."
"Believe it. I've thought long and hard about what I want, and it's not the life that my father has led. You can have all of it; all that I ask is that you let me and Alina walk."
Eamon sits back in his seat, thinking the situation over.
"Very well. If you can guarantee that your father will be taken care of and that you won't be filling his shoes, then I can agree to your terms."
"Thank you," says Michal.
"But don't even think of betraying me. Should you try to leave the city, well, rest assured that my reach is very long and you won't get far."
Michal nods, understanding the terms.
"Very well," says Eamon. "It's hard to imagine that the boy I've known for so long, the young man that I thought would be my sworn enemy, is actually going to be the one to hand the city to me on a silver platter. Life is funny like that, I suppose."
A small smile forms on his lips.
"Leave. I look forward to hearing from you again."
Michal turns to me and nods. I rush to him and he wraps his arm around my waist. Still feeling like I'm in a dream, we walk into out of the door and into the cool air of the evening.
Chapter Twenty
Michal
We drive through the night, away from Eamon's home and toward a nearby hotel. As I drive, I find myself looking over at Alina constantly, both to confirm that she's there and to look over the injuries on her face. I seethe with rage every time I look at them and part of me wants to simply turn the car back around, return to Eamon's, and give him the punishment he truly deserves for laying hands upon the woman I love.
But I know that my next few actions will be critical if I'm to see us both through what's to come. As satisfying as putting a round in Eamon might be, it would mean ruin; making sure that Eamon will be around to move in after I do what needs to be done about my father is critical.
I place my hand on Alina's leg, squeezing her tightly. She looks over at me and smiles that smile that I'd do anything for.
"Where are we going?" she asks, breaking the silence.
"We're going to a hotel for the evening. I'm checked in under a false name; we should be fine for tonight."
"And you trust Eamon?"
"The only thing I trust about Eamon is that his thirst for power is rivaled only by that of my father. He won't raise a finger to help someone unless there is something in it for him, and in this situation, that happens to be the case."
I drive on, soon reaching the hotel. It's a tall, stately building in downtown Philadelphia. It's a little ritzy for what we need, but I figure that if Alina had to spend any time around Eamon, it's the least I can do for her. Stepping into the magnificent lobby, the carpet a deep red and the walls and ceilings decorated in an ornate, Gilded-Age style, I watch Alina look around in awe, a small smile forming on her face.
Anything for her, I think to myself.
We check in, and I bring with us the small bag that contains some changes of clothing, along with some other necessities. Opening the door to the room, we enter a stunning penthouse suite, the windows overlooking the evening city.
"It's …amazing," says Alina, entering the room and looking around, her eyes wide.
"I thought you could do with a little luxury after what you've been through," I say, setting down the bag on a nearby chair.
Alina turns to me, her expression of happy wonder turning more serious. She walks toward me with slow steps, and I find my fist clenching as I look upon her bruises in the bright light of the hotel room.
"I …don't know what to say," she said, looking down bashfully. "I knew you'd come for me. I don't know how, but I just knew it. But, still, coming down the stairs and seeing you there…I don't know how to explain how I felt."
"Well," I say. "I'll keep in mind that if you're ever mad at me, all I need to do is hold a gun to an obese, Irish mobster's head and all will be forgiven."
Another smile forms and Alina playfully slaps my chest.
"You know what I mean," she says, a sweet laugh sounding as she speaks.
"I didn't have any other choice. When my father told me that he gave you to Eamon, I knew that I wouldn't be able to rest until I found you again."
I look over her bruises, a sick feeling taking hold as I do.
"Sit down on the bed; I need to take a look at you."
She complies, and I go into the bathroom and get the first aid kit.
"Please," she says, seeing the kit in my hand. "it's not so serious."
"Not another word," I say, opening the kit and removing some sterile wash and antiseptic wipes.
I wipe away the smears of cracked, dried blood and dab at the split in her lip with the antiseptic. Alina winces as the pad touches her.
"That's the worst of it," I say.
With the blood gone, she looks a bit better, but I'm still quaking in anger over what Eamon did to her.
"Did he …do anything else?" I ask, almost fearful of the answer.
"No," she says, relief washing over me immediately. "He wanted to, though. You came just in time."
Fantasies of beating Eamon to a pulp fill my mind. I wish that he wasn't so necessary to my plan; I would take sweet pleasure in taking him apart limb by limb after what he’s done.
Taking one last look at Alina, I realize that I've done all that I can.
"Thank you," she says once again.
"You can thank me when we've gotten out through to the other side of this," I say.
Alina looks away as I speak, a despondent look appearing on her beautiful features.
"What are we going to do, exactly? Surely your father won't simply stand by while you give everything to Eamon."
"You don't need to worry about that," I say. "I'll take my father out of the picture one way or another."
"And your sister?"
"She's …going to be more complicated. But I know that, as savvy as she is, she won't be able to take hold of the business should my father be removed. She doesn't have the connections in the city that would allow her to smoothly move into his position. Though I know that it's what she wants."
"Are …you going to kill him?"
Though I feel nothing but rage for what my father has done, the thought of killing him fills me with doubt. As certain as I am that I want nothing more than to leave all of this behind and to run away with Alina, taking my father out is the step in the plan that I can't help but feel hesitation about.
"I'll handle it."
"And …what about money?"
"Think about money least of all. I've got millions hidden away and I can sell the house through a third party once we've made our escape. You won't have to worry about money ever again, and once this is all over and done with, our lives as criminals will be nothing but a memory."
It sounds nice as I say it, but I cringe at thinking what it will take get to this new life that awaits us. Alina nods, knowing that what lies ahead of us won't be easy to get through.
"Hey," I say, putting my hand on her delicate shoulder. “We're together; that's all that matters. I'd do anything for you, and that includes getting you out of this."
She nods again, looking up at me with her big, blue-gray eyes. And as I look into them, I know that I've made the right decision.
"What do we do now?" she asks, her voice light and sweet.
"Leave that to me," I say, walking towards the minibar and taking out a small bottle of chilled white wine. "I don't know what the days ahead hold for us, but tonight we have each other."
I crack open the wine and fill two glasses.
"Come out onto the balcony," I say, pulling the door open and stepping out, the air brisk and refreshing.
Alina follows me out, and I hand her the glass.
"To us," I say, raising my drink.
"No matter what," she says.
We take our sips, and I let my drink linger on my palate, wondering if this might be the last time I have a night like this. Thoughts of what needs to be done flood my mind, but I tell myself that right now is not the time for worries. Tonight is all about her.
Alina leans in close to me, sipping her wine as we look out onto the glittering stretch of the city. We say nothing to one another, instead savoring the joy of our reunion. We finish our wine, and when I set my glass down, I turn back toward Alina, her eyes open and wide as she looks up at me. Bruises and all, she's still the most beautiful thing that I've ever seen in my life.
I place my h
and on her hip and bring her in close, pressing her body against mine and feeling her chest rise and fall with deep, full breaths. I look into her eyes once again, holding her gaze for a long moment before moving in close and kissing her.