by B. B. Hamel
I turn red and shake my head. “Just leave me alone, okay?”
“That’s not a denial.” Her eyes go wide. “You dirty girl.”
“Cut it out.”
“The mayor’s son made a house call, didn’t he?”
I groan. “Please, Taylor, just stop.”
“Okay, okay. Just know that I think he’s incredibly delicious, and you’re a lucky girl.”
“Yeah, well, whatever,” I grumble, totally embarrassed, but thankfully she changes the subject to more mundane office gossip.
After that conversation, I keep thinking about Elias. I keep wondering what it would be like if I could be with him, I mean really be with him, like a normal couple. We’re already living together, so it wouldn’t be a huge leap to have a life… and how would that look? What would people think?
I guess it doesn’t matter what people think as long as I’m happy. But there’s a baby inside of me, growing every day, and eventually I’m going to give birth. I have to decide what I want, preferably well before the baby arrives. I can’t help but think about being a normal couple with Elias, going to the movies, going to dinner, basically building a life like anyone else would. It’s a really tempting image, although it’s not one I ever really thought I’d have.
I can feel little cracks beginning to form in my resolve. I thought adoption was a sure thing, that I’d be able to give my baby up, no problem, but now…
It’s him and I know it. He’s starting to change my mind, but I can’t let him. I know I got sucked into this mafia thing with him and his father, but I can’t let that distract me. I’m close to Elias now, but what happens when all this is over? He’s a playboy, way too handsome for me. He says he wants to be a father to this child but I don’t know if he really understands what that means.
It’s sacrifice. It’s dedication. It’s all the things his own father could never do for him. I shouldn’t judge him based on the mistakes of his father, but I can’t help myself.
I head back to Elias’s place after work, but he’s not there. I get changed and walk over to his shop where I find him working hard on a bike, the radio blaring so loud that he doesn’t hear me come in.
I sit down on a stool and watch him work for a while before he realizes I’m there. He sits up and smiles at me.
“How long have you been there?” he asks.
I shrug. “Not long. A couple of songs maybe.”
“Huh, sorry. I didn’t hear you come in.”
“I know. You’re busy.”
“Guess so.” He sighs and stands up, going over to the radio to turn it down. “Mostly I’m cleaning up the mess those fuckers made.”
“How’s it going?”
“I’m working nights and weekends but I should get it all done before my clients try and murder me.”
“That’s good. Nobody wants to get murdered.”
“So true.” He laughs and walks over to his fridge, grabbing a beer. “I’d offer you one, but you know…” He trails off.
“Right. Pregnant. We can say the word, you know.”
“I know. I just don’t want to freak you out.”
I laugh lightly. “You’re cool with all this insane mafia stuff, but mentioning my pregnancy might scare me?”
“Good point.” He grins and leans up against the workbench next to me. “Actually, speaking of mafia, someone’s dropping by pretty soon.”
“Who?” I ask, a little afraid.
“A friend of mine named Marko.”
“Let me guess. He’s in the mob.” I say that half-jokingly, but he doesn’t smile.
“A captain, actually.” He raises an eyebrow at my expression. “I told you that I know some decent made men.”
I hesitate. “What does that mean, a captain?”
“He’s like upper management. He has his own crew of guys and runs them without much oversight, but he still answers to the big boss.”
I don’t answer right away. It shouldn’t surprise me that he has a friend in the mafia, but still, I wish he had told me this before… before what? I don’t know, but it still throws me.
And the guy’s far up in the ranks. I realize with a start that there’s a lot I don’t know about Elias. He’s still basically a stranger to me, just the guy that got me pregnant. I feel like I know him really well but there are all these big gaps in his life that keep popping up to surprise me all over again.
“So, uh… how do you know him?” I ask.
“We went to school together,” he says, drinking his beer. “Became really close when we were kids. He ended up joining the mob, and I did my own thing, but we’ve been friends ever since.”
I take a breath and let it out. “He’s a childhood friend, from before.”
“Right. We didn’t know what the mob even was when we met. It’s weird now though. I’m the mayor’s son, and he’s a high-ranking member of the local mafia. We should be at odds… but we’re not. He helps me sometimes.”
“Helps you how?” I ask. “Can he get us out of this?”
He shakes his head. “No, unfortunately. He’s trying, but apparently Raymond has it out for my father, and the other crews are on board.”
I sigh, my hope short-lived. I thought maybe a high-ranking member of the mafia would be able to help us in this situation, but apparently that was too much to ask.
“He’s a good guy,” Elias says. “I trust him with my life.”
I nod a little bit. “Okay. If you trust him, I’ll trust him.”
“Good.” Elias leans toward me and I think he’s about to kiss me, but his phone buzzes on floor nearby. He frowns and walks over to it, scooping it up and checking the message.
“That’s him,” he says. “On his way right now, actually.”
“Great timing.”
He nods. “That’s Marko. Impeccable. Mind if I finish this up before he gets here?”
“No, go ahead. Get to work. Nothing sexier than watching you get all greasy.”
He grins and turns the radio back up before concentrating on the bike in front of him.
I tune him in and out, but mostly I worry about this Marko character. We’re supposed to be worried about the mafia, but this one mafia guy is fine somehow? It’s all so convoluted and confusing… but I guess that’s Providence. In this town, the mayor’s son grows up with a mafia captain, and that’s why this whole place is corrupt. That’s how a guy like Buddy can win so many elections. Everyone knows someone in the mob and nobody cares who’s on the take or who’s involved with something shady. It’s just a part of the culture to have the criminal element right out in the open.
I don’t know how I’ve been so naïve about all this until now. I guess I’ve just had my own worries to deal with. My own petty money problems, my own life has been blinding me to the town that I live in, and maybe that was a good thing. I miss my little bubble where everything was right in the world, or at least it wasn’t full of corrupt Mafioso gangsters trying to kill me and my unborn baby over the mayor’s debt and my connection with the mayor’s son.
Marko shows up not too long later. I don’t know what I expected, but I’m surprised when I see him. Marko’s a little shorter than Elias, but they’re the same age. He’s handsome in his own way, darker and rougher looking than Elias, and with a swagger that I’m starting to recognize as common to all gangsters.
But he doesn’t look like your stereotypical mobster. He should be overweight, incredibly Italian, and dangerous. Instead, he seems charming and oddly normal.
He comes strolling right into the shop, pulling a big suitcase behind him.
“I come bearing gifts!” he announces, and Elias stands up, grinning at me.
“Surprise,” Elias says.
“What’s going on?” I ask.
Marko gestures at the bag with a flourish. “Your things, my lady.”
I stand up and walk over hesitantly. Marko laughs and puts the bag on its side, unzipping it to reveal more of my clothes, neatly packed, along with make-u
p, shampoo, and other toiletries I told Elias I needed.
I look up at the two guys, both of them grinning at me. “You did this?” I ask.
Marko nods. “It was Elias’s idea. I just broke into your place.”
“You… broke in?”
“Sure, picked the lock.” His grin gets bigger. “I’m a criminal, or didn’t Elias tell you?”
“I told her,” Elias says. “I just don’t think she believed me.”
I can’t help but laugh and shake my head. Suddenly I feel so much better, and the rest of the week doesn’t look so awful. I was dreading trying to get along with just the stuff I managed to grab, which wasn’t really much. This, though, this is basically my whole wardrobe shoved into a bag that’s basically as big as I am.
“I don’t know how to thank you,” I say to him.
“Don’t sweat it. Breaking into places and stealing stuff is sort of what I do, although I don’t usually give that stuff back when I’m done.”
We all laugh and Elias gets Marko a drink while I sift through the stuff he brought. Honestly, everything’s in there, or almost everything. I have enough stuff to get through the work week and then some, which is such a huge relief.
The two guys settle down onto stools nearby. “Did you run into Jimmy?” Elias asks casually, but I can recognize the edge of anxiety in his tone.
“No,” Marko says. “And I was careful. I don’t even know what would happen if they caught me going in there.”
“Jimmy would make a lot of assumptions, that’s for sure.”
Marko grunts, nodding. “That little fucker. I wish I could kill that cocksucker, but the old man likes him for some reason.”
“It’s probably useful to have a guy that’s willing to do almost anything,” Elias says.
Marko nods, but he doesn’t smile. “He’s dangerous. You know that, right?”
“I know.” Elias sighs, takes a long drink. “What’s the word now?”
“More of the same,” Marko says, shrugging. “They’re torturing your poor old man, trying to see if they can crack him and find some money he’s stashed away. I hear Raymond’s convinced Buddy had something buried.”
Elias scoffs. “Doubtful. What are they doing to him?”
“The usual shit. Intimidating him, threatening him, hurting him a little bit.” Marko glances at me. “I think your girl walked in on that last bit.”
I watch the two guys silently. Elias sighs. “That’s why Jimmy’s onto her.”
“Yeah, I figured. I heard Vito talking about it, he’s clueless, but Jimmy…” Marko pauses a second. “Well, he hasn’t said a word, which is worrying.”
“We’ll be careful,” Elias says, but he doesn’t sound too convinced.
As serious as the conversation they’re having is, it’s still really interesting just watching them interact. I feel like I’m getting a glimpse into Elias, one that he probably doesn’t give most people.
These two guys couldn’t be more different, but they’re also strangely the same. They came from the same place, but they went in different directions with it, and their experiences have molded and shaped them, but not so much that you can’t recognize a little bit of the other in each of them. It makes me want Elias even more in a strange way. There’s a whole world inside of him that he doesn’t show anyone else, deep wells of passion that I can only glimpse when he lets down his guard. It makes me want to search him out, find everything he’s keeping locked away from the world.
“Anyway, I should get going,” Marko says after they finish their drinks. “Wife and kids waiting, and all that.”
Elias laughs. “Since when did you care?”
Marko just winks at him and waves to me. “See you later.”
I wave back. “Thanks again.”
“Any time.” He disappears back through the front and I’m alone with Elias again, who watches after him almost wistfully for a second.
“Did you hear what he said about your father?” I ask him.
He looks back over at me. “What?”
“About the mayor. They’re torturing him.”
He shrugs. “So?”
“So, that’s your father. And my boss.”
“So?” he asks again.
“Elias,” I say sternly. “We need to check on him.”
“No way, fuck that guy,” he says.
“If your father cracks and tries to run away or something, who are they going to come after?” I ask him. “You’re next on the list, aren’t you?”
He groans. “Come on. Stop.”
“We have to go make sure he’s okay,” I say, standing up. “I know you hate the guy, but put that aside for a little while, okay?”
He groans. “Fuck, Alexa. God damn it.”
“Don’t be a child. Man up. Let’s go.”
He grunts one more time. “Fine. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
Without another word he stalks back through the shop and heads outside. I follow him, a little smile on my face. He didn’t warn me, not really, but I can guess what’s coming.
18
Elias
We take my truck to my father’s house in the suburbs. It’s big, too fucking big for one person to live in. I grew up here but I don’t think of it as my house, not anymore. Not since my mom died.
We park out front. Buddy’s car is there, but that doesn’t really mean anything. “He might not be home,” I say.
“Don’t try to get out of this. We have to go check on him.”
“Yeah, yeah, I’m just saying. He might not be.”
She gives me a look and gets out of the truck. I can’t help but smile. I don’t know when she got so strong and controlling, but I really like it.
She’s right about this. I’m not happy about it, but she’s right. I need to make sure my father’s okay and still functioning, or else they’ll come after me. Hell, I need to do it for him, just because he’s my goddamn father, as much as I hate that fact. I can’t be like him. I can’t turn my back on my family.
I get out and follow her up the front path. She knocks on the door and then rings the bell, and we stand back, waiting. Nothing happens after a minute, so she rings and knocks again.
I hear something crack inside and Alexa takes a step back, surprised. I sigh a little bit and step forward, pounding on the door.
“Open up, Buddy, it’s Elias,” I yell out.
There’s silence, and then another thump.
“Buddy, god damn it, open the door.”
We hear someone come down the hall. “That really you, son?” My father’s voice sounds completely normal, which is actually somewhat jarring.
“It’s me and Alexa,” I say. “Open the fucking door.”
“Why’s the girl here?” he asks.
“Because she convinced me to come check on your stupid worthless ass. Now open the fucking—”
Buddy pulls open the door before I can finish ranting at him. He grins at me and pulls me into an embrace before I can do anything to stop him.
“You care, you really care,” he says, his breath reeking of whisky.
He pulls back and I groan. He’s wearing an old sweatshirt, clearly stained with vomit, and his eyes are red ringed. His skin’s white and sallow, and he’s wearing only a pair of white briefs.
“Hi, Mayor Weaver,” Alexa says awkwardly. “You’re not wearing any pants.”
He looks down at himself and laughs. “I’m not. Well, come on in, you two.” He walks away from the door and back into the darkness of the kitchen.
I glance at Alexa, sigh, and follow Buddy. We head inside and she shuts the door behind us.
It reeks of vomit, alcohol, and body odor as we head inside. This house used to be a good place for me, the place where I grew up with my mother, but now it’s nothing but a tomb for my father. Alexa scrunches up her face but doesn’t comment on the smell.
There’s a lamp knocked over in the hallway and a shotgun propped up against the wall next to it. I’m gues
sing Buddy was a second from blowing us to smithereens with that thing before I yelled out. I grab the gun, break it open, and unload it before we get into the kitchen.
Buddy’s sitting at the table, nursing a drink. He grins and motions for us to join him. Alexa sits down at the other end of the table, frowning a little bit, but I stay standing.
“Have a drink, girl,” Buddy says. “Come on now. Remember what I did for you?”
“You didn’t rat her out, that’s all you did,” I snap at him.
He winks at me and looks back at Alexa. “Come on, a drink.”
“I’m pregnant,” she reminds him. “With your grandchild.”
“Right, right, that.” He makes a face. “A little alcohol never hurt anybody, right? Not even a baby. Have a little, it’s good for you.”
“That’s literally the exact opposite of what she should do,” I say.
“No, thank you, Mayor Weaver.” Alexa sounds polite, which clearly Buddy likes, because he beams at her.
“Well, at least you’re still respectful, unlike my ungrateful son over here.”
“Here we go,” I grumble. “How many times am I going to be subjected to this bullshit rant, Buddy?”
“Until you really hear it,” he snaps, then quickly calms down. “You see, Alexa, I gave my son everything. And as soon as my son was able, he turned his back on me.”
I sigh and finally sit at the table. “What you always conveniently forget is that you didn’t raise me. You were drunk, absent, and violent sometimes. You were a roadblock, not a help.” I hold up my hand before he can interrupt. “Yes, you paid for shit, but that’s all you were good for. You were just a wallet because you refused to be anything else.”
Buddy gives Alexa a look. “This kid, right? Expects the world.”
“I expected a sober father that was around more than once or twice a week to terrorize me and mom.”
“Do we have to do this again?” Buddy asks suddenly. “I mean, have this fight?”
“No,” I say, clenching my jaw. “I tried to avoid it.”
“Well, here’s to your mother, may her soul rest in peace.” Buddy downs the rest of his glass and pours another, sloshing a bit onto the table.