by Alexa Hart
I coughed nervously. “Charlie?”
He now seemed to relax, but his expression became much sterner, and it seemed to me that I had never really seen Charles McGee’s true face before now. “Miss Greene,” he began, seeming to sense my severe alarm, “don’t worry ma’am. I’m not gonna hurt ya.”
A hysterical, shrill laugh escaped my throat. “Charlie, why would I ever think – ”
“It’s no good pretending, Miss Greene, and I haven’t got time for it, frankly. I wanted to speak with you about Mr. Morano,” he stated, pausing and watching my reaction. I tried to steel my face and nodded quickly. He went on. “The two of you are spending some time together these days, if I’m not mistaken.”
I didn’t know how he knew, or why the fact that he did know made my blood slow to a crawl inside my veins, but I sensed that denial wasn’t going to work right now. Nodding again, I took a small, unconscious step towards the door. And then another.
“I’m sure you’re somewhat aware of Mr. Morano’s occupation... and his employer,” Charlie continued, keeping his voice low and even and locking me into his severe gaze with a grave stare.
Rossi. I nodded again.
“Morano’s a good boy, Miss Greene. Or as good as a boy can be in his world, I’d guess,” Charlie spoke this almost with endearment, and then stiffened again. “But be that as it may, his world is a far cry different from yours, ma’am.”
I had relaxed slightly, feeling the immediate harm to myself was no longer imminent. “I’m aware, Charlie. Can you please – would you please tell me what this is about? Quickly?”
“You’re a nice girl, Miss Greene. You’re real sweet with the kiddos, and I’m sure your parents are really proud of you,” Charlie said the words with sincerity, leaning on one of the school desks as though he was exhausted far, far beyond his years. “I’d be willing to bet your parents’ whole life revolves around you. It would be a tragedy for them to lose their only child.”
I sucked in my breath sharply. Exactly how did Charles McGee know I was an only child, and for what reason would he allude to such a horrific event? “Charlie, I think you had better go. I need to be going too.” I kept my eyes on him, now purposely taking steps towards the ever-looming doorway and mentally assuring myself I could outrun an old man.
“Bad things happen in Morano’s world, Miss Greene. Cuz Morano’s world is Rossi’s world, and Rossi is a whole different breed of human than Morano. You understand?” His urgency stopped me yet again, and he continued quickly, as though he knew I could run at any moment and he would never get to tell me –
Tell me what?!
“You find it strange that Rossi would fund such extreme security at an elementary school, Miss Greene?”
“It’s for Gia,” I managed to croak out, panic rising in my throat again.
“It is. It is at that. Rossi loves that little girl. Rossi loves Morano. And when Mrs. Morano passed, Rossi spent a lot of time making sure Morano would never have to experience that type of loss again.”
I nodded, getting impatient. “Yes, Charlie. Yes, Marcello told me. Marcello knows the risks involved in Rossi’s world.” I spoke with more confidence than I really felt, wanting this conversation to end – just end now.
“Of course he does, Miss Greene. Of course, he does. But there are a couple of things Morano doesn’t know. Things that Rossi thought would crush him but more so, things I think Rossi was afraid would turn Morano away from him quicker than a bolt. Rossi wouldn’t lose Morano or Gia for the world. That’s the only son he has. Gia is the only grandchild he has. Stefano Rossi will never let them go, Miss Greene.” Charlie moved closer to me now, and I felt the goosebumps on my skin rising from head to toe. “Those car accidents – the one that took Morano’s parents, and the one that took his sweet Celia – those weren’t accidents, Miss Greene. Those were hits, meant to hurt Rossi. Both of ‘em. Rossi is a widely hated man.”
I was starting to feel faint, and Charlie’s serious façade was growing blurry. I clutched my purse like a lifeline, straining against the lightheaded fuzziness.
“Morano insists on the security out of blind love for Gia. Morano trusts what he’s told out of blind loyalty to Rossi. But Rossi surrounds the two of them with steel walls because Rossi is a bad man. There are plenty of people who would love nothing more than to take every last person Rossi held dear in this world and shred them apart in front of his face on his own green lawn.”
I shivered, visibly shaken.
“Mr. Morano and Gia will never be safe, Miss Greene. Not really. Rossi loves them – and maybe that’s the one redeeming quality the man has – but he’s still who he is, and he still does what he does. It won’t change because it can’t. This isn’t a life you back out of, you understand, Miss Greene?”
I leaned against the wall now, suddenly feeling very unsure if I were awake or not. Surely this was a dream. Surely this was a nightmare.
“You involve yourself with Morano, and you involve yourself with some evil men – the likes of which I don’t think you would quite believe exist. Morano is protected because Rossi loves him. Rossi owns him.” He paused, shutting his eyes briefly and shaking his head. “Rossi may love you too, in time. He loved Celia dearly. And he’ll certainly own you – kinda already does. You might want to pay a bit more attention to your surroundings, Miss Greene.”
Not real, not real, not real...
“But regardless o’ all that. You will never be safe again, Miss Greene. Not you. Not your loved ones. Not your children. Not your children’s children.” Charlie’s eyes went tearful in an undefinable second. “I lost my family to this “job”. I can imagine what I’m gonna lose for this conversation. But you – ” he pointed a weathered finger at me, “you gotta decide if Mr. Morano is worth the cost. Cuz the cost is real. And you need to decide it quickly, Miss Greene. You already got one foot in the door. Rossi doesn’t need much more before you become just one more of his possessions. And Rossi don’t ever give nothin’ back.”
With that Charlie calmly turned and walked back to the thermostat, flipping the switch again with careful, steady precision. He walked back to his cart, tipped his head to me, and pushed his way out the door. “You have a good night, Miss Greene.” I heard his whistling echoing down the hall until it disappeared entirely, and then I fled Winston Elementary Private School with tears in my eyes.
Chapter 9
I wasn’t sure I would ever want to be driven anywhere by anyone ever again. I walked home – wanting to run – and feeling that every car, every passerby, every set of eyes was purposefully focused on me.
“You might want to pay a bit more attention to your surroundings, Miss Greene.”
Only now, it seemed the last thing I wanted to do was look around me. The second I was home I locked the door behind me and slid to the floor in exhaustion. Marcello. I needed to talk to Marcello.
His phone rang only once before his voice, sounding distracted and mildly startled, soothed my agitated mind with its purring solidity. “Abby? Abby, are you alright?”
He always assumes something is wrong. He’s waiting for something to be wrong. I noted this, feeling a chill in my bones, and hurriedly responded, “Yes, it’s me – I'm fine, Marcello.”
I heard a quiet sigh of relief, which did not relieve me in the slightest, and he questioned gently, “Do you need something, Abby? I'm with a client. I’m sorry – I can call you back in an hour or two? Unless you needed something now?”
I debated. A part of me knew that he’d be with me in a second if I showed even an ounce of the distress that I was feeling. Another part of me felt that I had no idea what I wanted to tell him or needed to tell him or if any of it even mattered at all, in retrospect. Charlie had warned me about Marcello’s life. I was already weary of it. Charlie had relayed some information that Marcello didn’t know. I had already suspected, since day one, that at least Celia’s accident wasn’t actually an accident. I now found it hard to believe that deep inside, Ma
rcello didn’t also feel there was something darker behind it than pure bad luck.
And finally, Charlie had made it clear that Rossi was bad news. He had made it clear that Rossi was a bad person. Again, I had somehow already innately sensed that, but Marcello’s devotion to the man was real. I wasn’t sure he would even hear me were I to speak any words of criticism regarding his adoptive father. It certainly couldn’t be anything he hadn’t heard before.
“Abby? Abby, what’s wrong?”
I tensed, sucking in my breath and closing my eyes. “Nothing, Marcello. Just wanted – you know, just wanted to say hello. Call me back whenever – it's absolutely fine.” I never would have made it as an actress. I sounded as convincing as a hostage in a terrorist situation.
And Marcello wasn’t buying it. “Abby, I will call you as soon as this meeting is over. I promise.” He was concerned, from habit or from intuition, and I felt an instant wave of guilt for calling him in such a blind panic.
“Sounds good. I’ll talk to you soon,” I pushed out and hung up abruptly. I felt an intense sensation of frustration with myself. Abigail Greene wasn’t a lot of incredible things, but she had her shit together. Always.
Things are different now, Abby.
An hour passed. Then two. I took a warm shower, attempting to ease my nerves and relax muscles that were locked into a rigid alert. It was nearing 9:00 and I still had heard nothing from Marcello.
Call him. Send a text. Do something.
But he had promised to call. I fully believed he would follow through as soon as he was able to. I wasn’t ready to dive into the role of “crazy girlfriend” yet, especially considering we’d never even been on an actual date. No. I would not text. I would not call. Everything was fine.
A knock on my door as the clock ticked past the nine o’clock hour caused me to freeze, and then a giant rush of relief was engulfing me as I nearly ran to answer the knock. It must be Marcello, deciding to check in personally, rather than call. It seemed very “Marcello” of him, and I was smiling when I threw open the door.
Heart. Stopped.
“Miss Greene!” A hearty, deep voice and a wide, disconcerting grin framed the face of a friendly stranger. “It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance!” A hand outstretched from a dark overcoat towards me, and I immediately knew I was meeting none other than Stefano Rossi, himself.
I shook his hand with great internal reluctance, feeling how coarse and calloused the skin was against my smooth little palms. His eyes were every bit as dark as Marcello’s, but harder. Scarier. They gleamed out from wrinkled, age-spotted skin that sagged around what must have once been a very prominent and powerful brow. Age did nothing to lessen his intimidating presence though. He was standing here, smiling like it was Christmas day and I was his first present. I fought off a telling shiver, and pasted a polite exterior on my face.
“Stefano Rossi - I’ll bet you already figured that out, smart little schoolteacher that you are! You can just call me Stefano!” His voice was literally booming and bouncing off the walls of the building. I realized I hadn’t moved back an inch or even begun to appear to invite him inside. He realized it too. “May I come in, Miss Greene? Is it okay if I call you Abigail?”
How often since I had first met Marcello had I been asked questions that I knew had non-negotiable answers? I gathered all of the strength I had left and motioned him inside, pleasantly saying, “Of course, Stefano. It is a pleasure to meet you as well. Please come in.”
He strode into my living room as though he had been there a million times before, and sat triumphantly in my mildly dilapidated armchair, beaming at me good-naturedly. I had a random flashback to a video we had watched in high school science class where a mouse was dropped into a snake’s cage, and the snake had seemed to happily play with it for close to half an hour before swallowing it whole.
Do I have half an hour?
I gulped and sat at the end of the couch – the spot farthest away from Rossi. “What brings you here this evening?” I surprised myself with the forwardness of my question.
He let out a bellow. “Ah! Right to the point then, Abigail? I like that! Ha! That’s a good girl right there! Tough!” He seemed so overly amused by my simple words that I nearly joined in his merriment from sheer absurdity. “Okay, my girl. I guess if you’d like to get down to the bones of things so quickly, I can go along with that.” He leaned forward, putting two giant elbows on two giant knees, and commanding serious eye contact from me while he rested his chin on his fisted hands. “It’s been a strange day, Abigail. I was in a meeting – a very important meeting – with my son just a bit ago. Imagine my surprise when he took a call from a girl and then refused to finish the meeting because he was so instantly worried about her well-being? He damn near walked right out of the room, completely against my orders, until I finally offered to send someone by to check on you.” Rossi paused, and tilted his head. “You did know I was speaking of you, Abigail?”
“I assumed as much,” I replied collectedly. I refused to say more. Rossi had instantly struck a nerve of rebellion in me that seemed foolish to entertain, considering who I knew him to be. I couldn’t help myself however, and I knew my polite gaze also remained hard with repugnance.
“I do tend to have a soft spot for my son, Abigail. And it seems he has a very soft spot for you, my girl. I mean, I knew he was seeing Gia’s schoolteacher here and there but this! I know a man in love when I see one, Abigail,” Rossi offered, seeming to attempt to become more likeable in direct response to my becoming more guarded.
He succeeded in catching me off guard with the mention of love. I felt my cheeks burning and struggled to think of any way to properly respond.
Rossi grinned wider than ever. “Yes, I tend to know a woman in love when I see one as well, my girl,” he chuckled. “Don’t worry, Abigail, my lips are sealed. I’ll let all of that play out as it will. But I can predict the outcome about as well as I can see that you clearly are not coming into this any big fan of mine!” He boomed that giant laughter again, making me jump. My body tensed, again not knowing how to respond to this man. He continued talking through his laughter, “Abigail, it’s completely understandable. And luckily, you are one easy girl to check on. My guy had eyes on you almost immediately, just sitting at your counter, staring at a coffee cup. Or he assumed it was a coffee cup. You might want to consider shutting those blinds after dark, my girl. Either way. You were fine, my boy was reassured, and my business could continue as usual,” he told me this as though it would relieve me, brushing his hands together in a “no problem” manner. “Abigail, I very much feel that you will eventually be my family, which in my eyes, makes you family already. I have a very special place in my heart for family, my girl. Very special.” He seemed tender, momentarily, and looked at me with sincere affection. “Family. There is nothing I would not do for my family, Abigail. Nothing.”
In that moment, I believed him, and hated myself for seeing genuine humanity in Stefano Rossi’s eyes. Perhaps he wasn’t here to threaten me. Maybe he was here to show me that we could be friends, that he meant me no harm, and that I was welcome in his son’s life. Just as I thought this, his eyes went slightly foreboding again, and he straightened up completely in my chair, carefully scanning my apartment with eyes that I was positive missed nothing, ever.
“It’s a very kind sentiment, Stefano. Thank you,” I managed, nervous and for the second time that day willing to give anything to just end the goddamn conversation.
He nodded, and stood, giving me a rush of hope that this was over – at least for now. I rose too, taking a slight step towards my door and preparing to show him out. “One more thing, Abigail.” He suddenly turned to me and his face was like stone. I shrank back instinctively, more fearful now than ever.
“Yes?” I squeaked, wanting to get on with it.
“It has come to my attention that you were paid a visit by Mr. Charles McGee this afternoon, were you not?” He spoke severely, and I nodded ju
st once, frozen in his icy gaze. “Right. Well, good ol’ Charlie – who doesn’t love Charlie – occasionally he gets some ideas into his head which may or may not be true, but more importantly are none of his business. Quite a character flaw, really. Charlie’s been around a long time, one of my best employees. He’s certainly taken care of more important matters than Winston’s dirty floors in his day.” He winked at me, and I shuddered, unable to hide it and no longer caring to. “Now I may not know exactly what words were said inside of that classroom of yours, Abigail, but I assure you I don’t need to. I think you are bright enough, my girl, to realize that in this business, you keep your ears shut and your mouth shutter, as the saying goes.” Again he laughed, but it was full of malevolence. “There was a time when Charlie understood that clearly. He will be dearly missed.”
My eyes went wide, picturing Charlie McGee pushing that cart with his calm, friendly whistle and gentle mannerisms. “Dearly missed?” I choked.
“Oh, I meant he’s been reassigned, Abigail. He won’t be bothering you anymore,” Rossi said this carefully, watching my reaction. “I don’t allow missteps where my family is concerned; and you, my girl, are family.” He paused and moved closer to me, putting a friendly hand to my shoulder. But there was absolutely no trace of friendliness on his face when he then leaned in until we were nearly nose to nose and stated calmly, “Charlie, however, was not.”