Russo Saga Collection

by Nicolina Martin

  “Bears, Mommy!” She points to the TV. “Come!” She grabs my hand and I follow her, cozying up next to her on the sofa bed.

  Mom stands with her arms crossed over her chest, leaning against the doorframe. She’s already dressed in an impeccable, wrinkle free blue dress, complete with flawless makeup and her hair perfectly in order. Very much my mom. Appearance.

  I look a mess, and I know it.

  “I’m making coffee,” she says and spins around.

  “I’ll come in a few,” I half-shout at her disappearing back, then I hug my daughter tighter and try to let our love, or closeness, seep into my soul and chase away the worst of the thorns.

  Finally I carefully free myself from her arms. She barely notices, engulfed in the show. Filled with trepidation, I make my way to Mom, who sits on the couch, two cups in front of her. I sit down next to her and lean my head on her shoulder.

  “Mom, I’m not well. It’s not good.”

  “I can tell, hon. What’s happened to you? Are you in trouble?”

  “Yes,” I whisper.

  “Do you want to tell me? Can I do something?”

  “Yes, and no.”

  I don’t give her names, but I tell her almost everything. I don’t mention mafia, I don’t mention the existence of Salvatore, only Christian. I don’t tell her he almost killed me, only that we met, made Cecilia, that I thought we had something, how he stalked me and finally found me. I tell her about his sacrifice, his devotion, and now his obsession. I tell her how much it hurts.

  “You have to go to the police, Kerry!”

  “Mom, I can’t. Please don’t ask me why, but I’ll be in danger if I do, if you do, if anyone does. Please trust me.”

  “Have you been alone in this the whole time?”

  “I’ve talked to Gayle, and Rebecca a little. Mom… Chloe, she’s missing, and I think he’s got something to do with it.” Tears well up in my eyes again. “I can’t!” My voice breaks and Mom scoops me into a tight embrace.

  “There are things you’re not telling me,” says my clever mom.

  I nod. “But I really can’t. I just hurt. It hurts. He’s my everything, but I don’t want to see him ever again.”

  “Are you in love with this man? Kerry, he sounds dangerous!”

  “He is,” I whisper, “but he would never hurt Cecilia and me.”

  “You can’t know—”

  “No, I know. It’s all those other things… He’s not a good man. I need a good, kind man, not… What have I done? Why did it have to be him, Mom?”

  My mother doesn’t answer. There is no answer to that.

  “Someone like Evan?” she finally says.

  “Maybe.”

  “He is a good man.”

  I think of the cheating, and now the stealing, all his stupidity, that is really just naivety. But all our years of friendship meant something too. It was a calm life.

  “Someone like him.”

  “But not him?”

  “No, Mom!”

  She has never quite grasped that he cheated on me, that he was fucking a blonde at the office the last six months of our marriage, but I’ve tried to tell her so many times, and she keeps living in denial. Initially it even felt like she blamed me for not being wife enough, but at least that passed. She really loved Evan.

  I stay for hours, until past lunch, when I’ve finally come back to myself a little. There’s no solution to the mess I’m in. I shouted at him to stay away, that I won’t let him see Cecilia, but that’s a threat that’s impossible for me to keep. He’ll take what he wants, and do I really not want to see him ever again? The thought makes me hurt. Everything hurts. Will I ever find peace again?

  In the car heading home, my phone rings. I vaguely recognize the number but can’t place it. Putting the call on loudspeaker, I answer. “Yes?”

  “I’m so sorry for calling again.”

  “Evan?”

  Oh my freaking God. Did you fuck a Russo? His harsh words from last night ring in my ears, but at the same time: isn’t he right? His judgmental tone hurt, but today I feel he’s right.

  “Ker, I just wanna say I’m sorry for last night. I didn’t mean for it to come out that way.”

  “How did you know?”

  “I just happened to talk about you with a friend, about you having a kid. It shook me a little, I’m sorry, I just had to vent, and he knew whose it was.”

  Apparently not exactly whose, but way too close.

  “Ker. Wanna grab a coffee today? I just want to make peace. Bring Cecilia, she’s so cute. It makes me wanna have kids myself. I’ve made so many wrongs, but I know now how I’m gonna make them right, and then I’ll get my life in order. Meeting you inspired me.”

  It’s not Evan per se. He’s not the one for me. But someone like him, and he catches me at the exact time when I just want to see one normal person. Or, close to normal at least.

  “Sure. Same place?”

  “Yes! Three o’clock?”

  “That’ll be perfect.” It’s one p.m. now, and I’ll have some time to shower, put on some makeup and get myself together.

  Evan is pacing the street outside the coffee shop. I honk and wave as I look for a spot to park my car. He spins around and stares, then his face lights up and he waves back, eagerly, almost childishly.

  As I park along the street, backing in between two cars, he comes darting, crossing the street without even looking, and pulls open my door right as I kill the engine. Pocketing his phone he lifts his hand in an awkward salute.

  “Cecilia with?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Want me to help unbuckle her?”

  I laugh. It’s liberating after half a day of misery. “Sure.”

  I leave the stroller in the trunk. The cafe is right across the street. Evan carries Cecilia who sticks her hands in his thick blond beard and pulls at the hair.

  The sound of an engine revving and tires coming to a screeching halt on the asphalt right next to us makes my heart jump to my throat. I grab Evan’s elbow to pull him out of the way. The back doors of the black van slam open and three black clad men with the lower halves of their faces covered jump out. One grabs hold of me, Evan hands Cecilia to one of the others. I’m thrown to the ground and everyone jumps into the van. Evan gives me one last glance.

  “I’m sorry. I had to.”

  I scream as the doors slam shut and the van shoots up along the street, disappearing around the corner in the next intersection.

  “Cece!”

  My mind is empty, but my heart hollers in agony and I don’t know if the sounds in my head also come out of my mouth. I’m on all fours on the asphalt, feeling as if my chest has just been torn open.

  “Miss!”

  A man comes rushing. Behind him stands a young couple, their faces white, their eyes wide. He reaches for me, trying to pull me to my feet.

  “I’ve called the cops! I tried to look for the plate, but I couldn’t see any, it all happened so fast. I think I can describe the man you were with. Come, please.”

  “My daughter,” I gasp as the tears come. “They took my daughter!”

  There’s a void in me that keeps growing. It’s beyond anything I’ve ever felt before. My soul has been ripped out, a part of me is gone, torn out of my body. Where is she? Who were they? Where are they going? Why? Is she afraid? Evan?

  Evan!

  I fumble with my phone, still sitting on the street, the man next to me talks, but I have no idea what he’s saying. I flip through last calls and hit the number Evan called from.

  It’s been disconnected.

  No!

  Cars honk.

  “Miss!”

  Someone’s pulling my arm.

  I get to my feet, numb, staring at my phone.

  Cecilia!

  Then I know.

  I don’t have Christian’s number, but I actually have a number for Salvatore, from way back when I looked up his address, all those years ago. Something has made me keep it. I
hope it’s still active.

  The man pulls my arm, his voice pleading, and I stumble after him to the sidewalk as I thumb through my short contact list. It just says S. I tap the number and pray.

  “Yes?”

  I don’t recognize the voice. My voice shakes as I speak, and I swallow against the panic that threatens to engulf me.

  “I need to speak with Salvatore,” I gasp breathlessly.

  “Mr. Salvatore is in a meeting. Who is this?”

  “Kerry. Kerry Jackson. Please! It’s about Cecilia! It’s urgent! She’s in danger. Please get him. Or Christian. Please!”

  Silence. I’m just about to speak again.

  “One moment, Miss.”

  “Miss, the cops are on their way. Come inside.” The man leads me inside the cafe and pushes me down on a chair. I clutch the phone and listen to the silence. The man disappears behind the counter and then comes back with a glass of water.

  “Miss Jackson. This is a surprise. Again.” Salvatore’s smooth voice makes me flinch

  “I need you,” I whisper, my throat thick.

  “What’s happened?” He’s suddenly not so smooth. His voice changing, getting sharper.

  “Cecilia—” My voice breaks. “She’s been kidnapped. Please come.”

  “Where are you?”

  “They took her,” I whimper.

  “Where are you, Kerry?”

  I have no idea where I am. I look up at the man who has helped me, who keeps pacing, hovering anxiously as he repeatedly glances out the window.

  “What’s the address?”

  I repeat to Salvatore what he says.

  “Someone will be with you shortly. Did you call the cops?”

  I’m suddenly afraid that was a wrong move, but there’s no way hiding that, and even as I think it, I hear blaring sirens in the distance. “Yes.”

  “Good. Cooperate with them. Stay where you are.”

  “Okay,” I whisper to no one. The call has already been disconnected.

  I clutch my midsection, my mind spinning. The imprint of the man who grabbed me lingers, making my skin shrink in disgust. I feel Cecilia in my arms, warm, trusting, happy. Or rather, I feel the empty space where she should be. It’s unbearable. Tears keep streaming down my face. A tissue has been pushed into my hands, but I’m too numb to care. I don’t know how to draw the next breath.

  I want Christian here. I need him!

  I almost jump through the roof when my phone rings. I don’t recognize the number and for a confused moment I think it’s the kidnappers. It’s Christian.

  “Kerry. Just stay put. We’re on our way. Don’t worry about the cops. Tell them everything.”

  A police cruiser comes to a halt right outside, double parking outside the line of cars along the street, blue and red lights flashing. Two burly cops enter the little space.

  “They’re here,” I whisper.

  “Good. See you soon. Hang in there.”

  I disconnect as the cops approach me. They ask. I answer. Something. I don’t know what.

  The man from the cafe waves his hands, points and talks. I hear everything as if from a distance.

  The door flies open, and three men enter, all dressed in suits and elegant overcoats, dark, imposing. Salvatore’s gaze searches the room and lands on me. Behind him is Christian and a man I remember seeing in the mansion.

  Salvatore walks up to the cops and shakes their hands. Christian darts to my side.

  “Kerry!” He’s breathless, his voice thick, almost unrecognizable. “What happened.”

  I lean toward him, needing the comfort but unable to take the initiative. Christian sinks to his knees and takes me in his arms, hugging me tight. “Tell me everything. Absolutely everything. Don’t leave one single detail out.”

  Melting into his embrace, I tell him about meeting Evan, how it all happened within mere seconds.

  “It was planned,” I whisper. “Evan planned this. He knew you were the father. Or… that someone in your family was. He had a debt. Richter. Charlie Richter.”

  I look up at him, searching his face for something, for comfort, for reassurance that he’ll make this undone.

  His features are frozen, and I realize he’s just as afraid as I am.

  “Christian, there’s been a demand.” Salvatore has come up behind Christian who stands and turns. Salvatore holds a phone in a gloved hand. His eyes move to me and in his gaze there’s compassion, protectiveness, concern, and murder.

  “Ransom?” asks Christian, still holding my hand clutched in his.

  “Yes. Nothing we can’t handle.”

  “Do you know a Charlie Richter?” asks Christian.

  Salvatore frowns. “I do. Not in person, but I know about him. Owns a bunch of casinos in Vegas.”

  “Seems he’s behind this.”

  Salvatore doesn’t move a muscle, then he tilts his head toward me. “Take Kerry with you to my place, take care of your woman. We’ll solve this.”

  Christian pulls me to my feet as Salvatore walks over to the cops, talks and shakes their hands again.

  “Come, Kerry. We’ll get Cecilia back.”

  My mind spins. I’m wobbling next to him, his arm around my waist, tight, my feet moving even though I can’t feel them.

  “Ransom?” I ask as the word penetrates through my fog.

  “We’ll fix this, love. I promise you that.” He opens the back door to the large black SUV and ushers me inside.

  Salvatore and the other man hop into the front seats as Christian settles next to me, buckling me up, holding me to him. As we move way too fast through the streets of San Francisco, leaving the city center behind, moving toward the affluent suburbs on the hills, I lean into Christian, soaking up his warmth, his strength. No matter who he is, I need him so bad right now that I think I’d die without him.

  Chapter 21

  Christian

  Ivan drives very fast, but he knows what he’s doing. Salvatore is on the phone more than half the drive, then he turns and looks at Kerry and me.

  “We’ll get her back today. They called my lawyer and made a ransom demand.”

  “We have to pay them,” gasps Kerry.

  Both Luci and I look at her with pity. She doesn’t know how we solve things in this family. When the sun sets there’ll be no one left of Richter’s men, and the man himself will be hanging in the meat locker in one of our restaurants, being skinned alive. I’ll gladly do it myself.

  I hold Kerry tight and, despite her trembling, I feel how she calms a little in my embrace. I know very well the last words that were said between us, I have agonized over them the whole day, clueless as to how to fix this. I can’t undo what I’ve done, the ways I’ve hurt her, all I can do is keep trying to redeem myself.

  “We’ll get your daughter back, Kerry,” says Salvatore. “Trust me. Trust your man,” he nods at me. “Can you do that? You did good, calling me.”

  She exhales, her dark green eyes darting between me and Luci. “What if they’ve hurt her?” Her lower lip trembles and her voice is shaky.

  “They have no reason to, Ker,” I say. “She’s too little, they won’t have to worry about her being a witness against them, they’ve made a demand, and that is a good thing. She’s alive, she’s not hurt, and we’ll get her back before you know it.”

  I don’t know for sure that what I’m saying is true, but my insides are nothing but a black void of raw fear and I have to hold on to something or I’ll fall into it and be of no use to anyone. My heart pounds so hard that my pulse roars in my ears. Cecilia’s little, warm, trusting shape is etched into my arms, and it feels as if the ghost of her sits on my lap. I’ve never felt such a physical sensation of something that isn’t there. I remember how I clutched for her when she was no longer in my arms, as I tumbled into the cold water in that river, but that was different, nothing like how it feels now.

  Emptiness can be palpable.

  Kerry weeps. I swallow against the lump in my throat.

&nb
sp; “The police?” asks Kerry. “Are they looking?”

  Salvatore glances over his shoulder. “Of course. They’re doing their part. They report directly to me. If they learn something, I’ll know it in a minute.”

  I look down at her, at her confused expression, then at how it dawns on her. Her mouth shapes into an O, and she doesn’t answer. Kerry knows better than most that we have contacts in the San Francisco Police Department. Lots of contacts who get paid well to do what we tell them.

  When we make our way into Salvatore’s mansion Carmen, the young mother of Salvatore’s son David, comes rushing, her face laced with concern. She grabs Kerry’s free hand. I’m holding the other one, and Kerry hasn’t tried to pull out of my grip, which secretly pleases me in the midst of it all.

  “I heard!” Carmen looks up at me, her eyes flashing. The curvy little Colombian rarely comes into Salvatore’s house. She lives with her husband Lucas in the house next door, David living mostly with them, so for her to be here, she’s really engaged.

  “Kerry,” she says, catching Kerry’s attention who now stares at Carmen, almost as if she’s looking but not seeing her, “we don’t know each other, but I think we spoke on the phone once, a long time ago. I’m David’s mom.”

  Kerry’s eyes dart between me and Carmen, then she nods. “I remember.”

  “Let me take care of her,” Carmen says and turns to me as she narrows her eyes. “You go do what you do best, and…” she chews on her lip before she continues, her deep brown eyes darkening, “do it well. No one fucks with this family!”

  The vengeful words take me by surprise, Carmen loathes what the rest of us do, I’ve felt her distaste more than my share, and she stays way out of the business. Her husband once worked for Salvatore, but now he teaches high school, and they’re just two, seemingly normal, people who happen to live in somewhat abnormal circumstances. I shouldn’t be that surprised, though. Carmen is a lioness when needed. She once beat Salvatore at his own game. There’s a fire in her and right now it blazes red hot, scorching anyone who would dare to get in her way.

  I give Kerry a squeeze. “Go with her. I have things to do. Don’t worry.”

  Kerry scoffs, her face swollen, her eyes glossed and red-tinged with fresh tears hanging in her eyelashes. “Do what you need to do,” she says, her voice broken. “Bring back Cecilia.”