Rising (Vincent and Eve Book 1)

by Jessica Ruben

  Finally, the concierge nods at me, letting me know without a word that I can head up. Stepping into the wood-paneled elevator, it brings me directly to the fifteenth floor.

  I walk down the carpeted hallway when her door swings open. “Hi, Eve! Application time!” she says in a sing-song voice. She hugs me tightly, genuinely happy to have me here. Ms. Levine is tall and thin with long caramel-colored hair. Normally, she wears it in a tight bun; right now, it’s down around her face, making her look much younger.

  “Eve, I already printed out ten copies of your transcript. I made copies of your best essay to attach to each application as a writing sample, and I wrote you a recommendation letter, which I really think is going to be the kicker!” Her voice rings with excitement as she brings me over to her dining table, grabbing stacks of papers off the console.

  The apartment is modern and sleek with floor-to-ceiling glass windows on the entire west side. I look out at the city streets, wondering for the millionth time what it would be like to have an apartment this perfect and safe. One day, maybe.

  I turn around, walking toward the wall where a large rectangular Peter Lik photograph hangs: a huge tree stands tall, the sun shining like a star through lustrous orange and red leaves. Living in a concrete jungle, I love seeing nature, even if it’s only in a photograph. I’m shaken out of my fog when she hands me a plate of hot eggs, bacon, and toast.

  “Take this and eat, you’ll need your energy up for us to work.” She stares at me expectantly with a huge smile on her face, but I’m confused by her demeanor. She’s always kind, yet all of this feels a bit contrived. I take a seat at the dining table while she sits across from me. She’s staring straight at me, seemingly waiting for something. The moment I see the pity and sadness pass through her eyes, I realize she knows about what happened with Carlos. I try to find the words to ask her about her day. I want to change the subject, but tears run without my consent down my face. She moves to the chair next to me as I crumble into her arms, looking for solace. She hugs me close to her, supporting me.

  “Janelle explained everything already; she called me last week. Just…calm down, we’re going to get you out of this.”

  I look up, worry sinking into my gut. “Are you going to tell someone about what happened to me? If you do, there’s no way I’ll live to see the day…” My breaths become shallow as my panic rises.

  She drops a warm hand on my shoulder. “Eve, please calm down. I won’t tell, okay? I know how things work here. I could get into serious trouble for not telling the authorities, but I’ll take that risk for you.”

  My crying intensifies as relief sets into my chest. “This is the plan,” she starts. “We’re going to get you into college and out of here. A summer program, first. We’re applying to these ten schools.” She gestures to the paperwork already organized and laid out in the center of the table. “I’m using school funds for your application fees, so we can apply anywhere you want. And I’ve already cleared it with the principal; so don’t worry about the money. You’ve got to hang on for six more months, and then you’re free.” I nod my head, swallowing. “You think you can lay low and out of harm’s way until we get you out?”

  My mind starts to race. “But what if I don’t get the scholarship and grant money? I can’t have Janelle support me anymore—”

  “You took your SATs, and you did unbelievably well. I know you’ll qualify for a full scholarship. And we both know it’s highly likely Columbia will accept you. You know I’ve got pull at that school. There are so many grants and scholarships available you qualify for. I mean, if not for you, who the heck would that money be for?”

  I chuckle, shrugging my shoulders. She has a point. “The thing is, I can’t just keep letting Janelle handle paying for me. I’m letting you know now if I can’t find a school that’ll hook me up financially, I’m not going.”

  She puts her hands on mine. “You’ll get it, Eve. You’ll get it and you’ll get the hell out of here.” She takes a deep breath. “Have you spoken to your mom about college?” I raise my eyebrows at her in surprise and annoyance.

  “Okay.” She lifts her hand up as if to say she won’t harp on the subject. “Let’s just forget your mom for now. You know what? Forget everything. Let’s just start by applying. When you get in, we’ll figure out how to make it happen. You’re a brilliant girl, and it’s time to put that brain of yours in a place that’s right for you.”

  I look down at my feet; my boots are Janelle’s hand-me-downs. They’ve got a few holes in the heel, but since I lost my sneakers, I’ve had to make do. I know Janelle would easily give me the cash to buy a new pair, but the guilt I feel from taking money from her at this point is enormous. My job at Angelo’s is okay, but two days a week isn’t enough to give me much spending cash. I need to get those grants and the full scholarship. And maybe Ms. Levine is right; if not for me, who would it be for?

  We spend the rest of the afternoon filling out applications, making sure to include everything the schools requested. Grant applications take even more time, as do the applications for scholarships. Ms. Levine wasn’t kidding; there are so many places willing to give money to a kid like me. I just need to stay organized. Ms. Levine has a large spreadsheet detailing what we need and what we’ve taken care of, so we don’t lose track. Without her, I’d be completely lost.

  “Ms. Levine, do you think I’ll fit into these places? I mean, no one I know has ever gone to college, and…” I feel insecurity pounding in my chest. “I mean, I know I’m different from the people I grew up around. But, that doesn’t mean I’m gonna fit in with people like them,” I say, pointing to the picture on the brochure folder for Columbia University. College kids in Polo shirts are throwing Frisbees to one another on a beautiful green campus lawn. “I’ve never touched a Frisbee in my life…. And like, what about Janelle? I’m nervous to leave her—”

  She cuts me off. “Listen, Eve. Don’t feel guilty about leaving. Imagine the life you will bring to yourself and Janelle once you graduate college. Doors will open. Law school, like you’ve always dreamed! I’ve lived that life, and I know you can make it there. And, Janelle wants this so badly for you…”

  I take a breath and gather my thoughts. Images of my mom barge into my head, unwelcome. “You know my mom would go insane if she thought I was continuing my education. If she had her way, I would have dropped out of high school at sixteen and gotten a full-time job already.” I bite my lower lip.

  Ms. Levine clicks her tongue, and I look back at her. “Look, Eve. I want to speak to your mom. Maybe I can get through to her? Your mom has issues; we both know that. I really believe she only acts this way to you because she can’t understand your potential. She’s just trying to teach you how to survive. In your mom’s opinion…now, this is just a guess, but I think in your mom’s opinion, the books you read don’t prepare you for actual life. But if she understood how much more is possible for you…”

  I stare at Ms. Levine with hope, wanting so badly to believe her. Even though nothing in my entire life has ever pointed to the fact that my mom would support me, she’s still my mother. Unfortunately, there’s a part of me that wishes for her approval.

  Instead of replying, I pick my pen back up. When we’re finally done filling out the paperwork, she makes us some hot cappuccinos from her fancy Nespresso coffeemaker. “One day, I need to buy myself one of these,” I tell her as I lift the mug up to my lips.

  “Ready to write your last personal essay?” She turns her laptop around to face me. “You have to write about your biggest character flaw.”

  “Well, with so many to choose from…” We both chuckle.

  “I’m going to run out and take care of some errands. Get comfortable. Write the essay. I’ll review it when I get back in a few hours.” She grabs her purse, letting herself out.

  I go through a few drafts, feeling relief to get lost in the writing. I’m so involved in the work that somehow, hours pass without me getting up or needing to use the
bathroom. By early evening when she returns, I have cramps in my legs, but also something I’m pleased with. She reads what I wrote and tears well in her eyes. “This is superb, Eve. Best one yet!”

  Before the sun sets, I tell her goodbye and get on the downtown Six Train. This time though, Janelle is waiting at the stop when I get off. We walk together to the Blue Houses and I fill her in on the details of my day. She jumps up and down, thrilled about the possibility of my going to Columbia. “This way, you won’t be far!”

  CHAPTER 8

  The following Sunday, I get to work early and open the shop. Even though it’s tiny and rundown, I take pride in keeping the place immaculate. I turn on the lights and straighten the items around the store before removing the gun out of my bag and placing it close to my hand under the counter.

  The gun has turned into a security blanket for me. I don’t ever want to feel like my life is up for grabs; I need control over my safety. The reality is where I’m from, I need muscle to combat terror, and I intend on using whatever is available to keep my life intact.

  I’m sipping my second coffee of the day while dusting the shelves when Angelo starts frantically banging on the front door to get my attention; he doesn’t always remember to keep his keys on him. After pressing the buzzer to unlock the door, he walks straight up to me and puts his hands on my arms.

  Alarm moves through me as I notice the sweat pouring down his face. “Listen, Eve. Something’s come up.” The lines in his forehead crease. “Antonio Borignone may be coming in here today with some other guys.”

  “Antonio? I thought you told me when I took this job I’d never have to see him.” My distress has my heart thrashing. Of course, I know the mafia owns this shop, but I didn’t think I’d actually have to deal with them. Coming face to face with one of the biggest mobsters in Manhattan is a nightmare I hoped never to see. I haven’t seen Antonio in person, but his reputation is vicious. Guns, women, gambling, murder…the list goes on.

  Seeing the agony on my face, Angelo continues, “Look. Antonio isn’t all bad…” His tone is softer as his voice trails off. “He gives to charity—”

  “Angelo,” I snap. “Don’t give me that. I don’t want to be an accessory in his crazy mobster shit, and if he’s coming in, it can’t be good!”

  He has the decency to look apologetic, opening his hands to me like a peace offering. “Look. He gave me the heads-up he has a lot of business to take care of and this shop is the place it’s going to happen. Just continue doing what you normally do while you’re here, and don’t look at anyone too closely.”

  I would walk out right now, but I need the money badly. On top of it all, I love Angelo too much to ditch him. The only thing to do now is to get as much information as possible about what’s about to go down. “Well, is he going to try and talk to me?” I manage to squeak out the words, trying not to let the fear take over my body.

  He shrugs his shoulders in a questioning motion. “Look, I’m not part of the family. I’m just an associate. I have no clue what he’s planning to say or not say to you. All I know is he’s going to be coming in here with some of the crew, and they’ll be using the basement. Typically, they don’t all walk in together. They stagger themselves. Your job is to not look too closely at him or anyone else who comes in, okay? I don’t want anyone to see your gorgeous face and get any ideas.” I look at him incredulously, shocked he’d think such a thing.

  “For fuck’s sake, just do me a favor and keep your head down, okay? No eye contact. No speaking. Just look down.” His no-nonsense attitude straightens me out and brings me back to earth.

  I know Angelo cares about me and just wants to keep me safe. It’s not as if he asked for this. “Okay, Angelo. I’ll stay quiet and keep my head down.”

  “That’s a good girl, doll,” he replies, his tone softening. “Now, can I buy you a bagel or something?”

  “Yes. Feel free to buy me breakfast for the next week.” I say, trying to calm myself down. As he steps out of the shop, I take a novel out of my backpack. I’m getting to the good part when I hear the buzzer. Absentmindedly, I press the button to open the door, assuming Angelo is back with the food.

  I lift my head happily, but freeze when I see an incredibly handsome man in a fitted navy suit walking inside. I gulp, praying this isn’t Antonio. Whoever he is though, he’s got a dominating presence and walks like a man of importance. He has black hair, sprinkled with some white at the temples. I take him to be a bit over six feet, with wide shoulders that taper into a narrow waist. When he steps up in front of me, I’m met with eyes so blue it’s shocking. There’s something about him that feels so familiar, but I can’t put my finger on it.

  He smiles casually, but his jaw is tight and the cold look in his eyes is at odds with his nonchalant smile.

  “Can I help you?” I ask nervously, tucking my book away beneath the counter and putting my hand on the gun. The way he’s looking at me has me shifting from one foot to the other. His handsomeness is quickly eclipsed by the fear he’s putting out.

  He slowly licks his lips. “I think you can. Where’s Angelo?” He brings out a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and casually pulls one out. My heart starts to thump and eyes widen; this must be Antonio. I can feel it. There is no smoking in here. But there’s no way in hell I’m about to tell this guy that.

  He puts his cigarette into his full, pouty mouth. “You know who I am, sweetheart?” He’s raising his eyebrows at me and again I’m struck with the feeling I’ve seen him before. He’s staring at me while he lights up and inhales, and I can do nothing other than gulp while my internal alarm shrieks.

  He blows the smoke out of his mouth and leans against the counter while I stare at him dumbly, unable to reply.

  “You must be Irina’s daughter, right?” He takes another inhale and smiles.

  I try to manage words, but I end up stammering. “Uh, yeah.” I attempt to keep my face straight as my panic builds.

  “I see the resemblance, although you’re a lot more beautiful than she is.” His mouth widens in a half smile. “Look at you.” He moves close to me, pushing an errant hair away from my face with his free hand, studying me. I can smell his cologne and can instantly tell it’s expensive. I hold my breath, afraid to breathe anything of his into my body. I blink my eyes a few times and turn my gaze to the left, trying not to make any eye contact. Even though it doesn’t feel sexual, his touch brings on a terrified buzz that’s rising from my chest down into my toes.

  He raises his eyebrows. “You’re afraid of me. Good. Your mom tells me you’re smart. She doesn’t like it much.” I drop my head and he bangs his hand down on the counter. “Look at me when I speak to you!” I jump at the sound of his voice, facing forward.

  He chuckles. “That’s better, sweetheart.” His voice is lower now and somehow even more terrifying. “You want to go to college?” When I hear the word college, my mind focuses on my future. I straighten my back and grip my gun with all my strength, ready to do whatever I may need to do. Feeling the cool metal against my hand centers me. I have control. I can handle this.

  “Yes. I’m going to go to college,” I say with as much strength as I can muster.

  “Hm, I see.” He smirks. “You’re strong and intelligent. Still blooming, though. Just gotta grow up some. It’s basically impossible for a girl like you to get out of this life. You know that though.”

  I nod my head.

  “If one of these shitty street gangs in your neighborhood got their hands on a pretty piece like you, it wouldn’t go so well. Angelo tells me that you’re a good girl. Still innocent. Always got your head in the books and helping Alex with his work.”

  I swallow, wondering if he’s mentioning the street gangs because he knows something about Carlos. Every part of my body is freaking out right now. This is the man who has my mom and half of New York City wrapped around his pinky finger. He can order my death and burn my body without anyone noticing. Hell, even if they noticed, the cops would
probably help dig my grave. Antonio’s got everyone in his back pocket, and I’m nothing but a blip on his radar.

  From the corner of my eye, I watch Angelo running back across the street. In some strange reaction, laughter bubbles up into my chest. I want to control it, but it breaks free, straight out of my lips. Antonio looks at me like I’m a lunatic as I’m cracking up, but there is no stopping it. The combination of Angelo running toward the shop while the most dangerous man in Manhattan stares me down has my wires crossed. I’m still laughing uncontrollably as I hold my finger on top of the buzzer, waiting for Angelo to open the door.

  Angelo jumps inside, holding a plastic bag full of food. “Antonio, how are ya?” he asks gregariously, dropping the plastic bag on the counter and wiping the sweat from his face with the back of his hand. I blink as the laughter finally dies down and realize that my face is full of tears. Christ, Antonio must think I’m certifiable.

  They shake their hands like old friends as I hiccup, trying to compose myself. I wipe my face dry with a tissue from the counter as Angelo slicks his hair back in a nervous gesture. “Go into the back, Antonio, everything should be comfortable for ya. Just text me if I can bring anything down.” Antonio nods, not unkindly, and lets himself into the basement without a second glance backward.

  When the door closes, Angelo makes eye contact with me, letting out a deep breath. “Good job, sweetheart. You’ve met the big boss. Just calm down now, all right? He won’t hurt you. I wouldn’t have left if I knew he was about to come. Now as the others come in, keep your head down. I’ll do all the talking.” I turn around and grab some paper towels that I use to wipe down the counter, handing some to Angelo. He nods in thanks and uses it to wipe the sweat off his temples.