Nicholas
I hustled down the stairs, taking the steps two at a time, and burst out the front door. There was a luxury sedan, freshly waxed, parked on the curb in front of the apartment complex. I fished the keys Giovanni had given me out of my back pocket and unlocked it as I stepped to the driver’s door. I slipped in the front seat.
In the quiet interior, I couldn’t help but take a moment to pause. I remembered the first time I’d ever broken into a car with Smalls. The silence, the calm before the storm, was bliss incarnate. I breathed in the clean scent of the leather upholstery, the faint oily tinge of the car’s inner workings that I could only notice if I held my breath and focused in hard. It was like an elixir. I felt a calm strength rush through my veins.
Inserting the keys into the ignition, I cranked the engine to life. It purred smoothly into a guttural growl. The pitch rose as I popped the emergency brake and steered the car down the street.
I passed pedestrians, dog walkers, and the jumpsuit-wearing foot soldiers of the Esposito family. It was easy to tell who worked for Cosimo. They all had the same expression, dull-eyed but twitchy, always on the alert, even as they smoked or gambled or waited around for customers to come up in search of drugs.
I coasted to a stop outside of the address Cosimo had given me. It was a small café, still quiet despite the early afternoon hour, with a simple façade and a few tables littered out front.
I waited for a moment, unsure whether I should go in or sit in the car. The decision was made for me when Cosimo strolled out. He had a cup of coffee in one hand and a newspaper tucked under his arm, every bit the picture of a normal neighborhood man. But I couldn’t avoid noticing the faint hint of white powder crusted at the edge of his nostrils. I figured it was best not to mention it. The kind of man who does lines of coke to start his day probably doesn’t like to be told that it’s showing. More likely, he probably doesn’t give a damn.
He opened the rear door and slid into the back. “Nicholas, my friend, how are you?” he asked in a cheerful voice.
I looked at him in the rearview mirror. He was beaming. “Good, thanks,” I mumbled.
“Excellent. Start driving, please.”
“Where to?”
“I’ll direct you. Just go.”
I pushed the gas pedal down and we moved off, away from the café.
“So tell me, Nicholas, how was your first night as a proud new owner?”
“Fine,” I said.
He clucked. “Come on, don’t hold out on me!” I felt him lean forward in his seat towards me. “Tell me all the details! I want to know, did she scream? Did you fuck her in the ass?”
I hesitated. I didn’t like to talk about things like that, especially not with a psychotic bastard like Cosimo. I was still on edge as I tried to figure him out. I needed to know what made him tick. That way, I could start to anticipate what his next move might be. But I didn’t understand why he seemed so interested in Natalia. Both last night and tonight, he’d been eager to hear that I’d hurt her or degraded her.
I wondered if I had. I’d let the caveman rage take over down in the sex cell, to be sure. I’d gone full rogue from my senses. The things that had happened were purely physical. It didn’t even feel like aggression. It felt simpler, a straight line from A to B. I saw what I wanted and took it. Exactly what I’d told Cosimo when he first asked.
I might have felt badly about how rough I’d been, but I knew without having to put words to it that Natalia had wanted it that way. Perhaps she never would have said it out loud, or even known how to, but her body responded to mine in a way that screamed yes. “You’ll never have my consent,” she’d told me. But she’d never told me no. She became a living yes. She’d asked for it.
“Nothing happened in particular,” I demurred. Natalia shouldn’t mean anything to me, but, for some reason, I felt the urge to protect her. Her dignity, her honor, whatever it should be called, I felt responsible for keeping it above the nasty level Cosimo seemed determined to explore. That could be stupid. I should probably have just told him what he wanted to hear. But my mouth wouldn’t let me.
He settled back into his seat, shaking his head and sighing. “So private, Nicholas. You should learn to share more. Take a left here.”
I pulled the car left at the light. Cosimo’s phone rang. He answered it and began to jabber in Italian that I couldn’t understand. I saw him point at me in the mirror to take an upcoming right, and I did as I was instructed. He kept talking, a steady stream of syllables that made no sense to me.
“Stop,” he said suddenly, hanging up the phone. “We’re here.”
I parked the car on one side of the road and sat still in my seat. The engine settled into a low rumble. Cosimo finished sending a text message. I heard the whoosh as it disappeared into cyberspace. “Do you need me to do anything while you’re inside?” I asked, every bit the picture of the obedient, boot-licking foot soldier.
Cosimo leaned forward again and squeezed my shoulder. “Nicholas, you are coming with me.” His eyes were bright and mischievous, like a kid getting ready to play a prank on a friend. It unnerved me. “Let’s go,” he ordered. He kicked open his door and stood up outside. I followed suit.
It was time to put my game face on. I didn’t know what this meeting was for or who would be there, but I had to be prepared for anything.
If only I knew what I’d hear.
# # #
The table was long and skinny. Seated around it on all sides were the top lieutenants of the Esposito family. Giovanni, fat as ever, sat smoking cigarettes on the far side. I was next to Cosimo at the head of the table. A dozen other men I didn’t recognize completed the council.
“Gentlemen, pleasure to have you all here,” Cosimo began. He placed his elbows on the surface in front of him and tented his fingers. An expensive gold watch reflected the overhead light. “As you are all no doubt aware, my father has passed away tragically in the middle of the night. His killer, a house girl, has been, shall we say, dealt with. Given that I am now the head of the family, I officially declare that the time of mourning has passed. The money-making must resume. This is the first chance we’ve had to all get together in such a nice little group. As such, I want to hear everything that’s been going on, from the horses’ mouths, so to speak. Let’s get down to business then, shall we? Fabrizio, you first.”
A tall, older man with thin, graying hair off to my right cleared his throat and started to deliver his report. “We’ve got dealers back in place all throughout our territory. A fresh shipment of H just came in from down south, so we’re in place to start moving serious weight again. Waiting on your orders to get down to it.”
“Good,” Cosimo said. “Pull the trigger. Next. Arnold.”
A heavy-set man in his late forties stood. His chair screeched against the floor as he shoved it backwards. “The MMA ring is up and running. We’ve got forty fighters ready to go, and the bookies are all primed to get back to taking bets. Fuckers have been knocking down their doors just beggin’ to give away their money to us.” He chuckled. “Soon as you say so, boss, we’ll get the first match-ups rollin’.”
“Do it now,” Cosimo ordered.
I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. Two days into this mission and Cosimo had brought me into the inner circle. These were the men we’d been waging war against for decades, and here they were, laying out all the details of their plans in front of me without so much as a second thought or the slightest bit of hesitation. It was mind-boggling. Surely Cosimo couldn’t be this foolish? Had his old man really done such a poor job of grooming his son for the boss’s gig?
A sudden thought hit me like a cold smack in the face. Maybe he wanted me to hear all this. There was an outside chance that the coked-out man sitting next to me had been a step ahead this whole time. He could have known I was coming, gotten this ready, lured me into thinking I was the one doing all the snooping, only to slam shut the pincers of a trap that neither I nor Fists would ever anticipate.
No, no, that couldn’t be. There were too many variables that he’d have had to account for. For instance, there was no way to be certain that I’d win the fight in the basement. If he were so intent on turning me against my own club, that would’ve been a foolish risk to take. I could easily have gotten my ass beat and the whole plan would have been dust from the get go.
I settled back, temporarily convinced that, as far as I could tell, we still firmly had the upper hand. I looked to my right and saw Cosimo. His foot tapped at a frenetic rhythm and his fingers twitched endlessly. This motherfucker was high as a goddamn kite. There was no way he was executing elaborate plans designed to draw a noose around my neck before I ever saw it coming. I sighed, satisfied. Things were going well.
The word “Punishers” perked my ears up and drew my attention back to the meeting at hand. A curly-haired, greasy-faced Italian man seated next to Giovanni on the opposite end of the table was delivering his report.
“We’ve got intel indicating that the Punishers are moving forward with their plan to sell those chem weapons to the Yakuza,” he said grimly. “We know the time and location where the swap is supposed to take place.”
My blood ran cold instantly. All traces of the momentary calm I’d just deluded myself into vanished immediately, replaced by ice floes of fear in my bloodstream. They were on to us after all. They knew everything.
“The bastards thought they’d pull a fast one on us,” the man went on. He laughed. “Like peace was something we’d ever take seriously. Too bad they don’t know we’ve got that mole inside their operation. He fed us all the details the second they got hammered out. It’s going down tonight.”
Cosimo slammed his fist into the table. His tongue lolled forward hungrily from his mouth. His eyes were bright with an insane glare. “Perfect!” he bellowed. “I want them dead, all of them. Full-scale, all the weapons, however the fuck you do it, I don’t care.”
The man hesitated. “Boss, are you sure?”
Spit flew from Cosimo’s mouth as he roared back, “Of course I’m sure! I want a raid. Catch those motherfuckers red-handed and then put them all down like the useless mutts they are.” The man flinched, startled by the sudden angry outburst. “I want those weapons, too,” Cosimo added as an afterthought.
He stood and started pacing around the outside of the room. The atmosphere had become brittle and unstable as soon as he started speaking. Everyone shifted uncomfortably in their seats as he passed by behind them. “This is our chance,” he said in a low voice, “my chance. It took Marco forty years to build this empire up. We have a lot, to be sure, but now is the time to strike and strike hard. He was too scared to be violent. I’m not. Do you hear me, men? I’m not.” He stopped behind the man who’d revealed The Punishers’ scheme. His hands came to rest lightly on the man’s shoulders. But as the seconds ticked by, I saw his fingers digging harder and harder into the soft flesh beneath the bone. His knuckles turned white with the effort.
He leaned down and whispered in the man’s ear, loud enough for all of us to hear. “Do you understand me, Joseph?” he hissed. “I am not my father. Marco wouldn’t do this. But I will. I’m going to exterminate the bastards. I want to see them begging for their lives in front of me. That way, when I kill them—one by one by one—they will know I had the choice to spare them and I chose not to. They will know I am not weak. They will know I am not my father.”
Joseph was wincing under the painful pressure of Cosimo’s hands. No one dared to move or make a sound. Then, just as suddenly as he had exploded, the anger passed from Cosimo’s face and he became once again the picture of calm and disinterested. He strolled back to his seat, whistling.
I noticed for the first time a shadowy figure in the corner. Alessandra sat with her legs crossed, examining her nails. Her blonde hair was pinned back in a tight bun that accentuated the harsh lines of the crow’s feet around her eyes. When she grinned, I saw her white teeth catch the light. It flashed across my eyes like a warning beacon.
I had to get in touch with Fists right away. He needed to know this so he could call off the arms trade. If we didn’t abort immediately, we would be walking right into a slaughter. The deal was scheduled for tonight. I didn’t have much time.
I felt the weight of the cell phone in my pocket. If I could just slip outside for a moment, I could place a quick call to the clubhouse and get Fists on the phone. It was too risky to send a text, with all the eyes in here. Besides, this would require a thorough explanation. I had to tell him about the mole, too. Security was at a premium.
Just as I started to formulate an excuse to go outside, I felt the weight of everyone’s attention shift to me. Panic seized my throat, constricting it, reducing my supply of air down to a tiny trickle.
“Did you hear me, Nicholas?” Cosimo said softly.
I looked at him blankly.
“I want you on the raid tonight,” he told me. “We could use a man of your…talents.”
There was only one word I knew that was appropriate for a situation like this. Fuck.
Natalia
I paced in tight circles around the bedroom, gnawing at my fingernails. It felt like my body and mind were tearing apart. Powerful emotions were pulling me in every direction. I couldn’t get a handle on what was happening inside me. My brain was a hornet’s nest of conflicting thoughts.
I was deciding if I should run.
“You can’t go,” I muttered to myself out loud, fully aware of how crazy it sounded to be talking to myself in an empty room. “Where would you even run to? Don’t be an idiot. You don’t know how to do anything, how to get away. The Espositos have people everywhere. Nicholas will know the second you hit the street that you’re trying to escape. Do you really think he’d just let you take off without so much as a glance back?”
I twisted on my heel and started moving in the opposite direction. “You have to go. Don’t you remember what Marco told you? ‘Stand up for yourself, Natalia.’ You know damn well that, if Nicholas is here, you aren’t going to be to do anything like that. You’ll be his forever. You might not get another chance like this. You have to.”
I stopped in my tracks and looked at the open window. A fire escape snaked downwards from it, descending to the back alley below. Even if the Espositos did have eyes on this place, it was doubtful they’d notice me sneaking out the back.
“No, don’t be ridiculous,” I said, resuming my pacing. “You’re helpless. You’re a victim. You always have been and always will be. That’s just what you are, Natalia. Get used to it and stop trying to be something you’re not. That’s going to get you killed. The people here are too dangerous to test like that. It doesn’t take much to get hurt. Remember Amelia? Yeah, of course you do,” I scolded myself as the harsh memory of her sticky sobs came hurtling back to the forefront of my mind’s eye. “You remember her very well. All she did was whisper. What do you think would happen if you ran?”
I changed direction again, back to clockwise circuits around the mattress. “Stop being such a coward! Stand up, stand up, stand up! And then fucking run, you dumb idiot! Run! There won’t be another chance this good to hit the pavement and just keep going. Get out of the city, out of the state. Hell, get out of the country, if you can find a way. The only rule is keep moving. They won’t be able to catch up if I have a head start.”
I stopped in place once more and looked at the closet. A few of Nicholas’s shirts hung there. I walked slowly over to them and took the sleeve of one in my hand. Bringing it to my face, I inhaled deeply. His scent filled my nostrils. It was spicy, musky, intoxicating. If I closed my eyes, I could picture him in front of me, that broad chest filling up my entire field of vision, dominating me without lifting a finger.
It felt almost like my body was betraying me by how quickly it had become addicted to the thought of him. And not just the thought, but his presence, his touch. Even now, when he was God only knew where doing God only knew what, his smell was enough to bring me to my knees. The urge to submit to him utterly and completely was powerful.
And hadn’t I promised him that much? Didn’t I swear to obey his every word? He’d said for me to stay put. The thought of disobeying him frightened me. I could just picture his wrath, dark and purple, stealing over his face. I didn’t know what he was capable of doing to me.
But the memory of the ice kept resurfacing, unheeded. He’d cooled me down, swept my body with a touch gentler than I would have ever thought possible. There was a degree of caring in his touch that surprised me. It was impossible to fake that kind of thing. At least, I believed it was. Somewhere below that grizzled exterior was a man with a serious hold on me. It was more than just dominance. It was a connection. I didn’t understand it or know how it had happened, but it was there, whether I liked it or not.
I looked out the window again. The world beckoned. A life beyond the shallow husk of what I’d known. It had been a series of subjugations from the second I was born until now. One after the other, an unbroken chain of “Come here, Natalia,” and “Do this, Natalia,” and “Don’t even think about doing that.” For once, wouldn’t it be nice to do what I wanted? To stand, walk, run, however and whenever I pleased?
I’d go to Mexico. With my dark hair, I could blend in there. It wouldn’t take me long to get enough of a tan to pass off as a local. As long as it were away from here, I could make it work. I just had to leave. Now.
Before I could stop myself, I shrugged on the shirt of Nicholas’s I held in my hand. I buttoned it up. It was long enough to serve as a dress. Besides, I had no other clothing. This would have to do.
Three quick steps and I was at the window. I put my hands on the windowsill and paused just long enough to take a deep breath. Then I was out, leaping through the opening and going down the fire escape.
I hoped I’d made the right decision.