The Mistaken

by Nancy S Thompson

  I shook my head. “You’re insane. Who do you think will have to pay to get you out of this mess when you fuck it all up, huh? Who, Nick? I’ll tell you who. Me. That’s who. It’s always me, Nick. Always.”

  He snorted and rolled his eyes. “Is that what you’re worried about? The money?”

  “No, it’s not, but let me remind you that I just paid off the last of your medical bills from your accident. That’s thousands of dollars, Nick. And now I’m going to have to pay for this one, as well. You never think about things like that. You never think about anything but your own selfish needs!”

  “You’re wrong this time. I’ve thought everything through. Everything. And this is the only way it will work.”

  I barked a short laugh and threw my arms up. “Oh, that’s bloody rich! Tell me, who exactly is this supposed to work out for? You? Me? What about—”

  “This is my life! My choice!” he yelled, startling me into silence. He shook his head with a look of tired resignation, but to what, I didn’t know. “I need to do this, Tyler. And you need to back off and let me.”

  “Please tell me you’re not serious. For God’s sake, Nick, you cannot run with those…those…thugs. They’re nothing but a bunch of thieves and cutthroats. You’ll end up in jail, or worse, get yourself killed!”

  He snorted at me again. “And just what do you think will happen if I don’t, hmm? Have you even considered that?”

  Finally, I saw it, the motivation behind his decision. He stared hard at me, fear registering in his eyes, his mouth a thin, rigid line of frustration.

  I shook my head. “No. Uh-uh. You can’t do this, Nick. I won’t let you. I won’t.”

  “Yeah? Well, Dmitri Chernov and his man, Alexi—that guy who just left with his own pet gorilla—they won’t let me not do this,” he countered. Then he laid his head back and closed his eyes.

  Fresh anger coursed through my body. “We’ll see about that.” I turned and headed for the door.

  “No, Tyler, stop! You stay away from them! You hear me?” Nick pulled himself up in bed. “I’m not the only one they’re threatening. They know about you now.” He paused and pressed his lips together again. “And they know about Jillian, too.”

  I stopped in my tracks, anger coiling into fear, and swung back around. “What did you say?”

  “You heard me, Ty. Stay out of my business. Let me handle it. This is more complicated than you know. And there’s nothing you can do about it now anyway. So just keep clear. Got that, brother?”

  I stood there for a moment, my eyes locked with his. I shook my head one last time.

  “No. Uh-uh. No way. This isn’t over, Nick. Not by a long shot.” I glared hard at my brother then walked out.

  But my resolve to quickly rectify the situation wavered when I considered Jillian’s safety, as well as Nick’s, for I knew these men well, or at least their kind. Working as a general contractor for so many years had brought me in contact with numerous labor unions and the bosses who ruled them like feudal lords over their fiefdoms. They were one and the same in the circle of The City’s underworld. Ruthless and brutal in their methods to maintain absolute control, they routinely squeezed the builders and contractors for unfair advantage in gaining profitable contracts. They certainly didn’t mind cracking a few skulls in the process, or eliminating the competition altogether if they saw fit. So instead of running carelessly into the lion’s den—Dmitri Chernov’s Little Russia—with hunting rifle in hand, I spread word throughout the union halls that I was looking for Alexi Batalov, Dmitri’s mouthpiece and top diplomat, and now, apparently, Nick’s new boss.

  I wasn’t sure what to expect, maybe some dark assignation in a back alley, or perhaps being snatched off the street, forced into the backseat of a waiting car, its windows glazed dark against the observant passerby. Just like in the movies. But it wasn’t as sinister as that. It was actually rather ordinary, considering who I was dealing with, but unnerving nonetheless.

  As I was eating lunch in a neighborhood café—my neighborhood, not his—Alexi Batalov, shadowed by another one of Dmitri’s brutishly large men, sauntered in and sat down at my table. He had that same presumptuous grin he wore at the hospital, all confident and easy going.

  “Thank you for the invitation, my friend,” he said, carefully articulating every syllable.

  His English was perfect, clear and precise, barely marred by his accent. I had the feeling it was something he was quite proud of, and I was inexplicably irritated by that, as I was by his dress and mannerisms, both executed with impeccable taste and deliberate propriety. But to me, it felt like he held himself in the highest regard, and I was but a nuisance. It caused a hot flare of acrimony to ignite deep within my belly.

  “I wasn’t aware I’d invited you,” I replied as casually as I could, though I was rattled that he’d located me, choosing a crowded public venue for a confrontation.

  “No? Then what is this I hear about you wanting to meet with me?” he asked.

  I swallowed hard and glanced up at the man who loomed over Alexi’s shoulder like a praetorian guard. Alexi raised an eyebrow, clearing his throat as he leaned in to gain my full attention.

  “Yes, well…I just, uh…wanted to…discuss my brother, Nick. With you, I mean.”

  Alexi eased back and continued to stare at me, his pleasant smile belying the cocky flash of impatience that lingered in his eyes.

  When he didn’t reply, I continued. “Look, whatever he owes you or your boss, I’ll repay myself. In full. With interest, if you want.”

  Alexi chuckled and rubbed his hands together like a devious cartoon character ready to unleash his fury. He leaned over the table in my direction, speaking softly, yet precise.

  “Tyler… May I call you Tyler?” he asked, then proceeded without waiting for a response. “Make no mistake, this is not about money. This is about honor and integrity, neither of which your brother currently possesses. So you may consider this a lesson in both. He will work for a cause. Our cause,” he stressed, his creased brow shooting upward, “and earn respect in the process. You will no longer have to support him, or his pathetic habits, and he, in turn, will no longer be indebted to you. This is something for which I think you will both be grateful. No?”

  Alexi sat back in his seat and waved his hand as if to find the right words. “And besides, your brother has a certain boyish charm I find…advantageous, you might say, at least in particular circumstances. He is well known in the neighborhood, and I am quite certain he will prove to be a useful asset to us.”

  As I soaked in his words, discarding the charm of his eloquent speech, that flare in my belly kindled to a torch. It burned slow yet intense, despite the anxiety twittering alongside it.

  “Well, Alexi… May I call you Alexi?” He gestured with a nod and an even broader smile. “What if I don’t want my brother working for your cause? Or to be an asset to your organization? That boy has suffered too much already. Nick’s been through hell this year, and I don’t want him getting into any more trouble, especially your kind.”

  Alexi’s grin remained, but the gleam in his eye was anything but friendly. “First of all, my friend, what you want is of no concern to me. Furthermore, you are wrong. Nick is young, yes, but a man fully grown, and deserves to be treated as such. You hold him down and treat him like a foolish boy, so why should he act like a man then?” He drew his fists up before his chest. “If he is treated as a man, he will step up and act as a man. Can you not see that, as his wiser, older brother? Or are you too stubborn and selfish?”

  With a pause, he looked at me sideways. He poked his finger at the table between us and leaned in even farther, as if we shared a conspiratorial secret.

  “I think you do not want him to be a man. I think you like your brother just as he is, under your thumb, always in your shadow, never good enough. Eh…my friend?” He leaned back again and crossed his arms over his chest. “Now, I commend your brotherly affection, your sense of familial responsibility.
A most…admirable quality, likely inherited from your father,” he emphasized with contempt, “but you do him no favor always sticking your nose in where it is not wanted. Nick has agreed to our terms. He knows what he is getting himself into, so I suggest you step aside and let your brother choose for himself exactly which path he wishes to follow: yours or mine.”

  The torch inside me blossomed into an inferno, blazing with the fuel of Alexi’s words. My chair screeched loudly against the tile floor as I jumped to my feet. Alexi’s man marched a forceful step in my direction and glared down from nearly a foot above my head. He raised his hands to my chest and pushed with little effort. I tripped backwards and knocked over my chair.

  Alexi barked out a sharp command in Russian as the curious attention of nearby patrons turned in our direction. He laid his hand against his bodyguard’s side with two quick pats. Like an obedient dog, the man backed away and resumed his stance behind his master. His impatience barely concealed, Alexi turned back to me and shook his head.

  “There is no cause for belligerence, my friend. We mean you no harm. But you must respect the position we are in. On top of everything else, Nick has broken our laws and must now serve us in penance, both as repayment, as well as to teach a lesson to others who might seek to do the same. If you become difficult and offer us no alternative, we will have no choice but to defend our honor as a family.”

  I snickered in contempt. “What honor? You haven’t a bloody fucking clue!” I threw money on the table to cover my bill then pointed a finger toward Alexi. “I’m warning you. Stay the hell away from my brother, or so help me God…” I threw his man one last glance then walked out of the café, my nerves so rattled my hands shook.

  Three doors down, I had to stop and lean over with my hands on my knees just to catch my breath. I paced in small circles with my hands atop my head, trying my damnedest to douse the flame in my belly. I looked back over my shoulder and caught Alexi and his man as they were leaving the café. We shared another glance before Alexi broke away. He whispered into his bodyguard’s ear then smiled, saluting me with two fingers—more fuel for the fire, igniting it all over again. Then Alexi turned away and climbed into a waiting black Mercedes.

  As I walked back to my car, my eyes kept darting around, suspicious of every man who walked near, nervous that someone might slip a knife into my back. On the drive home, I decided I wouldn’t share those ten minutes with Jill. It would frighten her, and worse, she’d be angry—at me, at Nick, even at Alexi. Jill could be moody and was often high-strung with a blistering temper, and while it was rare, I worried she might act out impulsively if she were to hear about the position Nick and I found ourselves in. The last thing we needed was a confrontation between Jill and Alexi, though Alexi would no doubt find that amusing. And I didn’t want her to run to her Uncle Joey either. A war between the Russians and Italians would be a powder keg in this city, and I didn’t want to be the spark that set it off.

  For the next five days, I kept looking over my shoulder, afraid of who might be out to get me. I gradually lowered my guard, however, feeling confident I had made my point and would suffer no consequences. I’d just returned home from the hospital, where Nick and I had discussed his doctor’s plans to release him at the end of the week. When I stepped out of my truck, a man rushed me from the shadows. I barely saw him in the dark, and had little time to defend myself before he raised a metal pipe high above his head. He swung a wide arc and landed a glancing blow to my head as I ducked away. I stumbled back into the open door of my truck while blood trickled over my forehead and down into my eyes.

  When he came in for a second blow, I kicked him hard between the legs. He dropped his weapon and doubled over in front of me. I scrambled for the pipe and swung an uppercut to his chin. I heard a noise like crackling cellophane and felt his jaw crumble. Broken teeth flew through the air, and blood spurted from his nose and mouth as he screamed, clutching at his face. He stumbled off to a waiting car across the street, yelling at the driver who sat alone inside smoking a cigarette. The car sped away with its tires squealing in the quiet of the night.

  Relieved but dazed, I dropped the pipe and clutched at my truck’s open door before my knees wobbled and gave way. I collapsed slowly to the pavement, and stared unfocused at the starlit sky as a dull ringing began in my ears. I heard Jill call my name. It sounded muffled and distant as the ringing grew louder. Her worried face suddenly appeared above mine. She spoke to me; I saw her lips move, but I could no longer hear her words, only the resonant chime in my head as it continued to swell. I tried to focus on her eyes and keep mine open, but her face was swallowed up by darkness, and all I could see was a pinprick of light at the end of a long tunnel. As the ringing grew sharp, the tunnel walls began to collapse all around me. I blinked once then twice.

  Then I saw nothing at all.

  Chapter Five

  Tyler

  I winced as the young intern stitched up the deep laceration on my head. “Ugh! Bloody hell!”

  He cringed but remained focused on his work. “Sorry about that, Mr. Karras. Almost finished. Just let me tie this one…last…knot,” he said then chewed on his bottom lip. “Okay…good. There you go.” He removed the sterile drape and sat back, smiling at his handiwork.

  I raised my hand and fingered gingerly around the wound. Jillian swatted my hand away.

  “Leave that alone,” she scolded then carefully smoothed my hair back over the cut.

  The attending physician walked into the room. He was an anxious chap with keen eyes that darted back and forth behind his frameless spectacles. He held my films in one hand, pushing them up to the wall-mounted light-box. With the other, he swirled a pen around the colorful images.

  “We’ve taken a look at your images, Mr. Karras, and frankly, there’s not much to see,” he said, smiling at his own stab at humor. “No concussion. No swelling. Nothing at all to worry about. You’re very fortunate to have such a hard head.” He tossed the films onto the exam table next to me and winked at my fiancée. Pulling on a pair of latex gloves, he turned his attention back to me and examined my wound. “Looks like Dr. Matson’s done a bang-up job sewing you back together. Hmm, yes, very good,” he said and stepped back. “Okay then, once you’re done with your paperwork, you can leave, but if you experience any nausea or an increase in pain or disorientation, I want you to come right back in. All righty?” He held two thumbs up and flashed a smile. “Awesome. Dr. Matson will help you finish up.”

  He peeled off his gloves, threw them away, and left just as quickly as he came in, before I even had the chance to thank him. Jill and I were left sitting there with our mouths open at his brusque manner, but grateful that I was all right. We turned our quizzical stares back to the young intern.

  “Yeah, he’s always like that,” Matson said with a shrug. “Now, if you’ll follow me, there are some gentlemen here to see you. When you’re done, we’ll just need a few more signatures.” He pulled the door open and motioned for us to precede him.

  The gentlemen he referred to were cops, two uniformed officers waiting as I left the suture room. They asked a lot of questions, most of which—pleading ignorance—I chose not to answer truthfully, something that went completely against my nature, but I couldn’t risk involving Nick. He already had a criminal record, and I didn’t want to get him into any more trouble, especially since I would likely end up having to bail him out.

  “I really think this was just a random mugging,” I explained.

  “You’ve been attacked by strangers twice in the last two weeks, Mr. Karras. Why do you think that is?” the older of the two officers asked.

  I waved my hand, like it was an everyday occurrence. “Yeah, well, the whole neighborhood’s gone to hell. You guys should really do something about that.”

  He drew his lips into a smirk and threw me a look, like he didn’t believe a word I said. His hand dipped into his pocket and pulled out a card. He reached forward and handed it to me.

  �
��Just come down to the precinct and swear out another statement, will you? We expect to see you soon.”

  I accepted his card and agreed with a nod and a handshake. “Right. Sure thing. Thanks for coming, Officers. I’ll be sure to make it in later this week.”

  “Please see that you do,” he said then tipped his head at Jill. “Miss Demetrio.”

  An hour later, when all the necessary forms were filled out and signed, I was released. With her hand at my elbow, Jillian walked me back to her car, belted me in, and drove me home. She cringed when she stepped out of the car, spooked by the black pool of blood spilled across the driveway, and my assailant’s broken teeth lying in its midst, like stars in a constellation. Jillian sprayed water from the hose and washed it down the gutter before the neighbors could ask questions. Afterwards, she helped me into the house and demanded I share the story I had refused to divulge earlier.

  I told her everything, about Nick and his new friends, and my confrontation with Alexi and his goon. Jillian didn’t take it very well.

  “Oh my God, Ty! Are you crazy? You could have been killed! What the hell were you thinking?” she howled.

  I bowed my head and looked up at her sheepishly. “I was thinking I needed to keep them away from my brother. I don’t think he can survive them, Jill.”

  “Oh Tyler, I understand you want to protect him. It’s a natural reaction. I would do the same for my sister. But you can’t live his life for him. And I don’t think you’re doing him any favors. If Nick’s ever going to grow up, he needs to learn there are consequences to his poor decisions.”

  “And if the consequence is death, Jillian? What lesson is there to learn then?” I asked, knowing full well there was no good answer.

  She looked at me with a sorrowful smile and cupped her hand to my cheek. “I’m afraid you can’t fix it for him this time. You’re only putting yourself in serious jeopardy. Trust me, Ty. I know a little bit about these kinds of people. They mean business, and they don’t care who gets in their way.” She nudged closer and sat down on my knee, her arm resting along my shoulders. “What am I supposed to do if something happens to you? Our life together is only just beginning. Please don’t risk it on something you can’t possibly win.”