by Ted Evans
“I don’t think I need your advice, old man.”
The landlord chuckles. “You need or not, you listen me. She trouble. Always girls like her trouble. I know that type. Take you heart, then take you money. Better you leave her alone.”
“Just stick to landlording.” Liam turns and marches out of the diner. Damn it. The landlord is right. She’s trouble. He can’t even enjoy his fucking pie anymore because of her. And now he’s broke, because of her. Liam digs into his jacket pocket and pulls out the card Tony gave him the day before. He studies it carefully, considering his options. He has no options. This is his only one.
He’ll call Tony, get one good paying job, give half the money to Willow and then he’ll take the other half and disappear. She can go one way and he’ll go the other. He pulls a phone out of his pocket and thumbs open the screen, punching in Tony’s number. It rings three times before someone picks up.
“Hey. It’s Blacke. You still got a job for me?”
Chapter Seventeen
Liam
Tony is sitting in a booth in the back corner of the bar when Liam walks in. He lifts a hand and waves Liam over. Liam holds up a finger and makes a detour to the bar. He buys a couple of beers and picks his way across the room to the booth. He drops onto the cracked leather and slides one of the beers across the chipped table at Tony. He tilts his head back and takes a long, deep gulp of his beer before wiping at his mouth and facing Tony.
“I knew you’d be calling me back,” Tony says with a grin.
“Don’t go getting cocky.” Liam says. “This is a one-time deal.”
Tony chortles into his beer. “That’s what they all say. But once a criminal, always a criminal. Tiger’s don’t go changing stripes, boy.”
“Okay, enough of the fucking chit-chat, Peters. What you got for me?”
Tony reaches down and pulls a manila envelope to the table. He lines it up neatly in front of him and rests his hands on top. When Liam reaches for the envelope, Tony tugs it back out of his reach. “Now hold on a second.”
“Tony, would quite fucking around? I’ve had my fill of drama for the day.”
“All right, all right. I just gotta tell you something first.”
“What? Spit it out.”
“This jobs for Carlo.”
Liam feels like all the air has been sucked from the room. His beer slips from his fingers and hits the table, tipping over and running in a foamy river across the wood. The bartender hurries over with a towel. Liam takes it and waves him off with a muttered ‘sorry’. He’s mopping up the beer and cursing himself for letting weakness show in front of Tony.
When the table is cleaned, Liam settles back into his seat and spears Tony with a look. “You couldn’t find me anything else? Carlo can’t be the only boss hiring these days. What about those MC boys from up north? Nothing from them?”
“Why you so scared of Carlo?”
Liam flings the beer wet towel across the table at Tony. “I’m not fucking scared of Carlo. I just don’t think we’d play well together.”
“Not like you ain’t never worked for him before.”
“Shut up about that.”
“I’m just saying…”
“Shut up and get me another beer.”
Tony shrugs and pushes his way out of the booth and toward the bar.
Liam drops his head to his fists, closing his eyes against the memories that Tony has dredged up. Liam never wanted to think about it again, but here it was. His past always coming back. His brain brings up the pictures; the shower, suddenly empty, the guy, his back to Liam. The makeshift weapon, heavy in his hand. The blood spattering across the tiles and wet thunk the guy made when he hit the shower floor, red life sluicing down the drain.
The table shakes as Tony edges into the booth and drops a bottle in front of Liam. He studies Liam from across the table as he takes a swig from his beer.
“Listen, man.” Tony nervously picks at the label on his sweating bottle. “I’m not the one to usually get all emotional about this kinda shit but, man, you gotta let it go. You did what you had to do to get Carlo off your back. It was him or you, man. If you hadn’t taken dude out, Carlo woulda had someone do you. You know how it works. Let it go.”
Liam takes a swallow of his beer to avoid talking.
“Anyhow, you wanna know about this job? You ain’t gotta…well, it’s not like the joint job.”
“That supposed to make me feel better?” Liam gives Tony a flat stare.
“No, that’s not what I meant. I just meant, this one is easier. Ethically speaking.”
“Now where’d you learn a word like ethically, Tony?”
“Shut the fuck up. Also, you do this job and you’ll be back in Carlo’s good graces. He never did feel like your punishment was adequate. This one’s important to him. Personal like.”
“I don’t give two shits about being back in Carlo’s good graces.”
“Man, I ain’t gonna sit here and argue about it with you. You wanna know what the job is or not?”
“Fine.” Liam clunks his bottle to the table and flicks his fingers at the envelope. “Let’s hear it.”
Tony picks at the envelope flap and pulls out of sheaf of papers stapled in the corner. He flips through the packet and grunts a couple of times. Liam is watching him read, his patience wearing thin.
“Peters,” he growls low, his patience finally running out.
“Yeah, yeah. Okay, it’s no problem. Just a little…recovery mission. Lost and found, as it were.”
“Come again?”
“Carlo’s got a couple of people he wants delivered to him. Unharmed.”
“So, who is it?”
Tony folds back the top paper and pulls a photo from underneath and tosses it to Liam.
“Woman and kid,” he says.
Liam catches the flying picture. “What?” He turns the picture over in his hands. Willow’s big, jewel-colored eyes are staring up at him.
Liam bites into his tongue to keep from talking. He studies the picture. It’s obviously a few years old and a work i.d. photo but it’s unmistakably Willow. Her golden hair cascades over her shoulders and her eyes shine like an amethyst. She’s smirking cutely, her eyes cutting ever so slightly to the side. Liam wonders who was making her want to giggle while getting her photo taken. He decides he hates whoever it was.
He flicks the photo back across the table at Tony. “This some kind of joke?”
Tony catches the picture and shoves it back into the envelope then starts to flick through the papers in front of him. “Nope. I know, I usually don’t do women either but it’s not a hit. He don’t want her hurt or nothing. Just…a delivery. He wants her and the kid.”
“Kid.” Liam grinds out.
“Yeah. I guess, I dunno...the kid is his. Carlo ain’t never had a kid before till he knocked up this whore. She took off ‘fore the kid was born. He wants ‘em back.”
Sliding his hands off the table, he clutches at his knees, digging his fingers in hard to keep his voice steady and his face neutral. “What’s it say about the kid?”
“Ahhh, nothing much. Just she left before the kid was born. Gonna be a lucky little son of a bitch, or daughter of a bitch as it may be. Daddy’s loaded.”
“He doesn’t know if it’s a boy or girl?”
Tony flicks through the papers again. “Nope. Never seen it. Girl’s been on run over three years already. She’s been lucky so far.” He digs the picture back out. “Pretty girl. Looks familiar. Seen her anywhere?” Tony holds it for Liam to see again.
“No.” Liam bites out.
“Anyhow. They should be easy to take once they’re found. Just grab the kid and momma will probably fall right in line. So, you want the job?”
Liam heaves out a heavy sigh and looks at the ceiling. “I don’t know. Give me time to think about it?”
Tony shrugs and starts shoving the picture and papers back into the envelope. “Yeah. Don’t take too much time though or Carlo
will give it to someone else. He wants this done.”
“Why is it so important?”
“He wants his kid. And he wants momma to pay for taking off.”
Liam watches silently as Tony finishes packing away the paperwork. His mind is reeling and running a thousand miles an hour. Willow. Carlo’s whore. And Frank. Carlo’s son. No wonder she’d been so insistent Frank’s father never find them. Of all the bad guys around, Carlo was worst of the worst. Liam is starting to regret ever hearing the man’s name. He’s so lost in thought that he jumps when Tony’s hand lands on shoulder.
“Let me know, man. Soon as possible. I’d say no more’n twelve hours.”
“Yeah, okay.” Liam nods absently.
Tony walks a few steps before turning back around to Liam. “One more thing to think about…”
“What’s that?”
“The last guy that went looking for the girl and the kid? He didn’t find them. And Carlo wasn’t happy.”
“Yeah?”
“Let’s just say…the desert vultures didn’t have to look to hard for dinner that night,” Tony nods and walks away. He doesn’t need to explain it anymore to Liam. He knows exactly what’s at stake. The problem is he doesn’t know what he’s going to do about it.
Chapter Eighteen
Willow
With Frank happily settled in front of cartoons, Willow takes the phone Liam tossed at her into the kitchen. Liam was right though. Where was she going? How could she possibly get another place? She was a crappy mom and Frank deserved way better than she could ever give him. Maybe she should just…give him up. Just the thought causes tears to prick behind her eyelids. Never seeing her baby boy again? She roughly rubs the tears away. She’s beginning to think it might be the only way. If she could find a nice couple, somewhere in some suburb or small town. Somewhere he’d be safe.
Her breath catches her in her throat. She could never. She is hopeless and pathetic.
She lays the phone on the counter without making any calls. She knows her grandparents would help, but now that her mom was in the picture she didn’t have an option to go back. This was messy. It was all fucked up, Willow was stuck. Yet, she wanted to get out before Liam came home. She knew that the couldn’t stay, that part was crystal clear.
Running into the bedroom, she throws the rest of their things into her bag and zips it shut. She shoves her feet into a pair of shoes and slides on a light jacket. She reaches into the pocket and pulls out what money she has left. Quickly counting it, she realizes it might be just enough to get a bus to…somewhere. She’ll take what she can get.
Dragging her bag into the living room, she tells Frank to get his shoes and his tiny backpack. She helps him slip the straps over his shoulders and unzips it to drop in the plastic truck he’s clutching in his hand. After tugging his shoes over his feet and zipping up his jacket, she takes his hand and gives him an encouraging smile.
“Okay, sweetie, we’re going on a trip,” she says brightly, taking him by the hand and leading him to the door.
“Yay! Liam comin’, mommy?” the tot asks.
“No, baby. This is just a mommy and Frank trip, okay. And I’m going to need you to listen very carefully to me. Stay with me, keep hold of my hand the whole time.”
“Okay, mommy.” Frank straightens his shoulders and puts on his serious “big boy” face.
“Okay then.” Willow takes a deep and leads Frank to the door, gripping his little hand tightly. They head down the hallway and start down the stairs, the wheeled bag bumping over the steps, Frank hopping down each one, counting to ten over and over. Willow is watching Frank, making sure he doesn’t stumble down the stairs, when a large body comes flying across the landing and barrels into her, knocking her bag out of her grip.
“Liam! What the hell?” she gripes at him.
“Where are you going?” Liam grips at her arms, fingers biting into the flesh.
She tries to shake him off. “We’re leaving. We said we were leaving. You told me leave, remember?”
Liam leans over the rail when he hears the doors in the entry below open. He’s tense, his hands still gripping her tightly. When he looks back up, the intensity in his eyes sets panic building in Willow’s stomach.
“Liam, what’s wrong? Did something happen?” Her voice is pitchy with her growing panic.
Keeping one hand on her, Liam grabs Frank with the other and starts to physically haul them back up the stairs.
“My bag!” Willow yells. “Liam, my bag.”
He doubles back and grabs the bag, shoving it into her hand before continuing his journey up the stairs, still dragging Willow and Frank along with him. Once they reach his door, he pushes the key quickly into the lock, kicking at the door to open it, and thrusts them both inside, clicking the deadbolt into place behind them.
Willow swallows. She’s been locked in a room before and she’s not going to stay locked in another one. She pushes Frank behind her, and when Liam turns away, rubbing his hand distractedly over the back of his head, she swings her wheeled bag at his legs, catching him just behind the knee. With a roar of pain, his knee buckles, sending him to the floor. She turns and fumbles with the locks, throwing open one then another, fingers slipping on the doorknob in her panic.
“Willow,” she hears from behind her, “turn around.” His voice is so deadly calm that it stops her frantic movements. She turns and sees Frank, settled onto Liam shoulders, his fingers gripping Liam’s hair.
“Liam, please…” she reaches one hand toward him, toward Frank sitting out of her reach. “Please.” Her voice quivers with unshed tears.
Liam sighs heavily when he realizes what she thinks. “I’m not going to hurt him. Or you.” He crosses the room and swings Frank down onto the sofa. He flips on the TV and skates through the channels to find cartoons. “Sit here, bug.” He goes to the kitchen and returns with a sleeve of cookies. He pulls off Frank’s shoes and settles him with a blanket and the cookies. “Sit here and watch all the cartoons you want, bug.” Frank nods happily, a handful of cookie already on its way to his mouth.
Liam grabs by the arm again and steers her into the bedroom, stopping just inside the door and keeping Frank and the front door in his sights. Willow watches, trying to tamp down her fear. She doesn’t know what’s happened since Liam left them that morning but it had whipped him into a panicked, agitated state that she didn’t want to aggravate any further. She remembers what it was like to have a large man agitated and be in arms reach of him. She takes a step back.
“Willow,” Liam starts, his breathing uneven in his state, “tell me about Frank’s dad.”
The question floors Willow. She’s not sure what she was expecting but it wasn’t questions about Frank’s dad, that was for sure.
“Why?” she asks, “There’s really nothing to tell.”
“You ran from him because he was a bad guy. I think there’s something to tell.”
“It shouldn’t concern you. Don’t worry about it.”
Willow jumps when Liam slams his fist into the doorframe. She glances out the door to Frank, but he’s still engrossed in the bright images flashing across the screen.
“Listen, it’s my concern,” Liam grinds out between his teeth, keeping his voice low. “You…and your kid…are in my house. On the run from someone. I think that should concern me.”
“No, it….”
Liam stops her, “I paid a lot of money to keep you from getting in trouble, you owe me. Especially if being associated with you is putting my life in danger.”
“Liam…” Willow raises a hand to him.
“Am I, Willow? Am I in danger? From Frank’s dad?”
Willow backs up until her legs hit the edge of the bed, then she sinks to the mattress, all the air leaving her lungs in a long sigh. She takes a deep breath, and another, before she attempts to talk.
“Okay, I’ll tell you. Yes, Frank’s dad is bad. Bad, bad. Mafia bad. Killing and maiming and extortion and bribery and drugs
and sex trafficking and just about any other horrible thing you can imagine. He does them all…or pays people to do them for him, rather.”
“So, he’s a boss.”
“Yes.”
“Willow, how did you get hooked up with a mob boss?”
Willow gives him a wry grin. “I was eighteen once, stupid and naive and dying to get out of my small town. He swept me off my feet.…”
“Spare me the details.”
“You told me to tell you, so I’m explaining it to you.”
“Yeah, you told me about all that. Wanting to be a singer, getting hooked up with the hotel owner. ”
Willow nods. “Yeah, well, he kept me under lock and key, literally. He beat me, Liam.” She shudders at the memories. “He used me. And threatened to throw me to his men when he was mad at me. Which was a lot.”
“Then you got pregnant.”
“Then I got pregnant.”
“Why did you tell him?”
“I didn’t. One of the maids found the pregnancy test buried in the trash and took it to him.
“Ah.” Liam nods and appears to be thinking over her revelations.
“I didn’t mean to bring you into this, Liam. I was just…so lonely.” She swallows past the lump in her throat. “If you’ll just…just let us wait here until dark then Frank and I will get on bus to somewhere and you’ll never see or hear from us again.”
“What’s his name?
“Sorry, what?”
“Daddy’s name? What is it?”
“Don’t say it like that.” Willow grimaces in distaste at hearing ‘daddy’ applied to Frank’s father.
“Who is it, Willow?”
“Carlo Nato.”
Liam nods and drops onto the bed beside her. Willow is shivering with nerves now and he reaches over and pulls her to him. Willow lets him stroke at her hair, wondering at the change that seems to suddenly settled over him. She’s still against him, his heat soothing against her.