by Lisa Libby
The bellman knocks on the door, I take one last glance at my neat hair in the mirror before opening the door.
AVA
CHAPTER 18
Mi Casa
I refuse to sit in the window seat on the plane. Most people fight to sit near the window, but me, I prefer to sit in the aisle seat. I wouldn’t consider myself claustrophobic, but I get anxious sitting near the window because if there is an emergency, I would need to depend on two strangers to get out of my way. It’s the same when I’m in a new building; I want to know where all the exits are located. If I don’t, the worry could give me a panic attack. When I’m in a stressful situation, I have an urge to urinate almost every hour or more.
Today’s a stressful day because I’m losing my drug mule virginity. I don’t know how this will turn out. I’m almost depending on Johnny to get my luggage past customs in Boston. Jose is expecting a quick transaction at an East Boston Hotel. He has strict rules and times in place. I’m to report any delays to him or any mishaps. He seems more stressed than me. I can only imagine the amount of product in these bags. I try to clear my mind by watching a free in-flight movie. I have a choice of a romantic comedy, a comic book hero or an animation. Just fucking arrest me now and put me out of my misery. I need a few drinks to get through this flight. I settle on vodka and tonic.
The pilot wakes me with his announcement we are preparing for landing. I spill the last drink I ordered all over my handbag and pants. There is no time for a bathroom trip, but I sneak past the flight attendant and hear her asking me to take a seat. I pretend I don’t hear her. It’s that or I piss my pants.
When I am exiting the bathroom, I find the flight attendant in my face with a scowling look.
“Miss, you must go to your seat”.
I pretend I can’t hear her by pointing at my ear. I’m screwing with her, pretending I can’t hear her, and it is making her angrier.
I move slowly to my seat to annoy her more.
As soon as the plane lands I turn on my phone.
I text Johnny.
I’m in NYC
I have a three-hour layover, plenty of time to get through customs and grab a bite to eat.
I try not to sweat from the stress and fear of getting caught.
Before I go through customs, I need to pick up my checked bags, trying not to look obvious by looking around too to see if there’s any undercover police. At Gate 5, I wait for my bags. The buzzer sounds, and the baggage carousel moves. I tied red ribbon around the luggage handle, so I can spot my luggage quickly. Everyone crowds around the carousel anxiously to grab their luggage, making it difficult for me to see mine. I think I see my luggage, but several times I’m wrong.
There’re only a few people remaining, and this is when my panic sets in. I head to the restroom, lock myself in the disabled stall and start pacing back and forth. I’ve lost my shit. I switch from scared and calm, like someone has changed my emotion channels – next station, tears. If I go through customs, they’ll arrest me. Johnny hasn’t returned any of my texts. I call him, no answer. My mind is racing; maybe Johnny set me up, maybe he got caught, maybe the luggage is missing, or worse, the luggage is with customs and they’re waiting for me – or maybe Jose set me up, maybe Alterman’s message about my father was a warning. I’m entering a full-blown panic attack, the bathroom stall is shrinking, my breathing is short with my anxiety adding layers of bricks on my chest and my heart is pounding through my ears. I’m sure others can hear my heart pounding in my chest.
I remember I have valium; a muscle relaxer should calm me enough to get through customs. I haven’t eaten anything today, so I take a half a pill. I force myself to get out of the stall. I wash my face and focus on slowing my breathing, counting from one to four on every inhale and exhale. The valium kicks in, the restroom walls are back to their original position. My internal earthquake is over. At this moment, for whatever reason, I mourn for my mother like she died yesterday. She was everything to me and she loved me like her own. She never wanted to tell me the truth about adopting me, but it hurt to keep such a secret from me. I thought the pain would go away when I moved on to college, a new boyfriend, job, but all these milestones just made it more painful. I don’t feel I did enough to find her real killer. I thought a good job and getting to marry my first love was all going to blanket me with happy sparkle dust. But nothing could give me back the only person who truly loved me and no one could replace her. If I must risk it all to find her real killer, I will die trying, because it was not Lewis.
I stand up straight, push back my shoulders and leave the restroom. I take one last glance at the carousel; no luggage. I head straight through customs with no issues. If the luggage is never found, then so be it. I’ll take care of Jose and find money another way. Now, I need to get some food in my stomach. I duck into the first restaurant I see and sit at the bar. Immediately, my phone rings – it’s Johnny. I jump off the bar stool.
I don’t let him make a sound before I speak. “Where’s the fucking luggage?”
“No hi, how ah ya, just where’s tha fuckin luggage. Ya know you can be an ungrateful little cunt,” he says in a half-sarcastic tone.
“I had a fucking panic attack in the bathroom, you motherfucker.”
“Chill tha fuck out, it was taken from the plane and one of my guys is driving it to Boston. At the last minute they told me Boston wasn’t gonna to happen,” he explains.
It’s a relief to know it’s not lost. But until it’s in Jose’s hands and the money is in my safe, I’m not satisfied.
“You okay?”
“No, I’m never going to see the money from Jose.”
“You worry too much; it’s annoying. Ya think I’m not gonna get you that money, ya don’t know me.”
“You’re a dickhead, but I love you,” the words melt off my lips. I bite my bottom lip to take back the words. I feel vulnerable, the secret is out, Johnny’s my weakness.
There’s a pause before he speaks. “I know.”
“You knew?”
“We have chemistry, it’s as if you’re my soulmate. There’s somethin’ ‘bout ya. I’ve held back, ya know.”
I find his words to be all lies; I don’t believe him. He was always nice to me but what he doesn’t know is that the girls at work would share their sexual encounters with Johnny; the copy room, conference room and staircase to the garage, a new sex-capade every week. He’s fucked every intern, new hire and there are even rumors of him fucking our boss, Susan. I know Johnny, he’s forever a womanizer and the quintessential irresistible charming man. The women were using him just as much as he was using them. Some women use their pussy to get to the top, and men take advantage – why not?
I can’t get off the phone fast enough; this love talk is making me uncomfortable. Johnny and I agree on a meeting point. I order two entrees because I can’t decide; typical.
The plane ride is under an hour to Boston, so the flight attendant hands out bottled water, no snacks. I rush off the plane to exit the terminal to meet Johnny. The moment I turn off airplane mode my phone rings.
“The luggage was supposed to be here already,” says Jose, getting to the point.
“There was a slight hiccup in plans. I’m off the plane and heading straight to you with the luggage.
“AVA, AVA, AVA… Someone lost their life tonight cause of your hiccup,” he screams. “You did not follow the plan, you DIDN’T. FOLLOW. THE … PLAN. I told ya to communicate with me and follow the plan.”
“Jose, listen, I got paranoid, and had the luggage picked up in New York. It will be here in maybe the next couple hours.
“Bitch, I don’t have a couple hours. I don’t believe you... You will pay for this. Bring my luggage to the restaurant.”
The phone goes dead.
I laugh to myself because I know Jose is all talk. He tries to act like a gangster, but h
e’s fake. If he knew the Irish Mob was holding his drugs, he would shit his pants.
The doors open, and I’m hit with the agonizing chilled-to-the-bone cold winter. I’m underdressed for this temperature. Lucky, Johnny is here to greet me. He must see how frozen I look because he takes his heavy suede coat and throws it over my shoulders then pulls me into his arms, pressing me against his chest. The beeping from an impatient taxi breaks up our embrace. I worry Johnny will pull the taxi driver out of the car and beat the shit out of him. Maybe he decides it’s not worth the risk, since the trunk has my drug-filled luggage.
Johnny opens the back door of the cab, which I find odd. Then I realize he hired a driver. It’s out of character, but I’m too excited to have Johnny’s attention.
We get comfortable in each other’s arms in the back seat. With the warmth of the heat, my high declining and Johnny wrapped around my shoulders I just want to sleep but I know I have plenty of explaining to do.
“If you’re wondering why I need the money, I can’t say.”
He pulls his hand away from me and stares straight ahead.
I find him attractive when he’s angry with me. I predict his next mood will be forgiving.
Without looking in my direction he says, “You cannot bring drugs ta Boston without my approval, people get killed fah that shit all tha time. Ya lucky it was diverted to New York.”
He reaches for me, but stops his hand inches from my neck, as if he was going to choke me. I look into his eyes, but the Johnny I know isn’t inside.
I close my eyes, “Please Johnny, don’t hurt me.”
I peek out from one eye. His fists are still clenched but are back resting on the seat beside him.
“We will go see Jose together, you’ll get ya money, trust that.”
I keep trying to call Jose, but there’s no answer.
Finally, Jose calls. “Where are ya?”
“We are here.”
“WE?”
Johnny grabs my phone and hangs up on Jose.
Jose’s restaurant is empty, no customers as usual, but there are several men outside smoking cigarettes. Johnny reaches under the seat and conceals several guns in his coat, boots and the back-ass pocket of his pants.
“Where’s my gun, and what is going down here?”
Johnny dismisses my question.
The driver opens the car door, then heads to the trunk to grab Jose’s drugs. The driver is built like a professional wrestler. He must stand at least 7-foot-tall, with wide shoulders. He’s sporting thick black sideburns, slicked black greasy hair and a nose that’s been broken before. He’s one ugly son of a bitch. He’s dressed in black from head to toe, a long trench coat, and a designer silk scarf that doesn’t match his angry demeanor. The dragging sound from the suitcase wheels missing the pavement every few steps lets me know he is following closely behind. The men outside stare us down but nod us past them into the restaurant. Jose is sitting in the far back of the restaurant with a shirtless young girl who doesn’t even look of age sitting on his lap. There are lines of cocaine on the table, ready to snort; a trigger for me.
Jose pushes the young girl off his lap, and she disappears to the back of the kitchen.
“You didn’t have to bring friends, we are familia,” he smiles wide. He points to a bag on the floor, getting the attention of his guy to pick up the bag and hand it to me. Johnny intercepts and grabs the bag; the driver rolls the luggage to Jose.
Johnny grabs my arm tight and walks towards the exit.
“Bad etiquette,” he shakes his head. “You can’t leave without me opening the suitcase to check my goods.”
Johnny stops and turns around to look at Jose.
Just as Jose unzips the suitcase, I hear a loud bang. Something in the suitcase pops and the room fills with thick pink smoke. Johnny shoves a mask over my nose and mouth and presses down while dragging me out of the restaurant. I hear gun fire and see flashes of light reflecting in the glass window. The driver is not a wrestler or a driver, he’s a hitman. Johnny pushes me onto the floor near the door.
“Stay down; don’t move until I come back.” He pulls out two guns from his back and steps outside. I close my eyes and hold the mask over my face. I hear more gunfire coming from outside. I’m scared Johnny is dead. I open my eyes, but my mask is covered with pink residue.
“GET UP!” yells Johnny. He grabs my arm, pulling me out the front door.
I rip off the mask to get air as soon as we are outside. Johnny pushes me onto the back seat and jumps in the driver’s seat. Hits the gas and drives to the front of the restaurant. My clothes are covered in a pink powder substance; the smell is unbearable; my lungs and eyes are burning. The passenger door flies open and the driver—still don’t know his name—hops in the passenger seat. I’m so shocked I can’t speak; my ears are ringing from the loud gunfire. Am I dreaming? Did this just happen? Why the fuck did Johnny do this? There is no way we will get away with this; more blood on my hands. This is all my fault, damn, what am I thinking trusting Johnny?
I rummage through my purse for makeup wipes. I find the pack and start rubbing the pink powder from my eyes. The burning subsides and I begin to pull myself together and sit up. I want to smoke a joint, but I’m afraid the mysterious pink powder is flammable or that I’ll inhale dangerous chemicals. We pull up to a motel. Johnny tells me to grab my bag of belongings and the bag of money. The driver doesn’t look my way and doesn’t speak a word to even Johnny. It seems the plan was well in place before I stepped foot off the plane. I have so many questions I know Johnny will answer in his own time. I’ve learned to be patient when Johnny has that stressed look in his eye. I can easily set him off.
Johnny already has the key to the room. It’s outdated, from the paneling on the wall to the bedspread. I don’t even want to sit on the bed, so I pull out the desk chair that’s missing a wheel.
“We don’t have a lot of time,” he says as he turns the shower on and takes his shirt off. “Shower and get this stuff off your skin.” He motions me to the bathroom.
I drop my jacket on the floor and strip walking to the bathroom. Johnny tries to be polite by staring into my eyes but can’t help looking over my naked body.
We shower with blue dishwashing soap, washing our skin like animals caught in an oil spill. Johnny steps out of the shower to grab towels for both of us.
He dries himself off and wraps the towel around his waist. He’s erect, and I can’t help but feel turned on. It’s difficult to control myself around him. He takes it upon himself to dry me off, even dries in between my legs, spending more time than necessary. I can’t help but let him take control. I’m always vulnerable in his presence. I take it upon myself to make the first move, pulling his hips towards me, pushing his erection against me. He grabs my face with both his hands, sticks his tongue down my throat and kisses me roughly. He moves his hands down to my back to grab my ass, pulling me out of the bathroom and onto the bed. I no longer care that the bedspread is ugly and the bed old. I will explode if he’s not inside me right now. We skip the condom, not uncommon with us. He turns me over on my stomach, grabs my pussy from underneath and sticks his thumb inside before sticking his hard dick inside. Then takes it out slow and pushes himself back in. He repeats this, teasing me. He knows what I like. He massages my ass, leaving his dick inside then taking it out and laying his dick on top of my ass, rubbing it like he wants to stick it in my ass. I’ve never done that before, so I hope he doesn’t try it. Thankfully, he turns me over, and we fuck missionary style while he licks my breasts. I widen my legs when I feel I may come, and I push up off the heels of my feet until I climax. It’s all over in ten minutes. We’re both satisfied, but tired. Naked, I search through my purse for a joint and a light. This is much needed for both of us. I sit on top of his limp penis and blow smoke in his face. My worries temporarily melt away as my high kicks in and my eyes close.
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“Wake up, Ava, get up.” Johnny is standing over me.
“I’m up.”
He throws my bag at me.
“Get dressed, fast.”
I dress and watch him run around gathering all the clothes we wore during the shootout, the towels, soap, mask, and anything that has the pink powder, and throw it in a trash bag.
“Why did you kill Jose?”
“Why do ya even care?”
“Cause, I don’t think it was necessary.”
“Trust me, it was.”
“He would’ve given me the money.”
“ENOUGH ALREADY, SHUT IT, OKAY! You must trust my judgement. You know nothin’ about nothin’. You know nothin’ about this world.”
“I know, but I’m scared. Don’t you worry about retaliation? I mean how do you sleep at night after murdering people?”
“I sleep fine, now get your shit and enough questions. You got ya cash, so stop bitchin’.”
I do as he says, but I feel sick to my stomach. Jose was a friend to me when he was dating my roommate Samantha. He was a small-time crook. It’s wrong, and now I have one more thing that will keep me awake at night.
We take a taxi to my house. Johnny insists on staying with me, but I want to be alone, I’m too upset.
“At least let me check your house to make sure it’s safe,” says Johnny.
I let him search the closets, under the beds, and look around the back yard. He’s not satisfied, so he walks around locking all the windows.
“A black car will be parked outside, that’s my guy. Don’t answer the door no mattah what.”
“Yeah, okay.”
“I’m not kidding, Ava. I promise we will talk tomorrow; you will get the answers you’re looking for.”