Chapter Thirteen
Julien
I watched Mia sleeping. I wasn’t getting any myself tonight, so I watched her instead. She lay on her side in the bed and I sat on the armchair there, keeping vigil like some creep. Her mouth was slightly open, and I could hear her soft inhalations of breath. She slept peacefully, not even uttering one word, barely turning over. I’d been sitting here like that for almost an hour and she’d not moved except to curl her little hand over the blanket and tug it closer to her neck.
In a way, I was envious of her restful sleep, but sleep made you vulnerable. It put you on your back.
I stood and went to her, pushing the hair off her forehead before sliding the blanket to her waist. She tucked her arms into her chest, but apart from that, there was no other movement. She was naked but for the comforter that covered her and I looked at her small breasts, perky and round, just a handful. Perfect. Her pretty little nipples hardened now in the cool air. I’d left the window open even though it got cold up here at night. I liked listening to the insects, the birds in the still dark hours of the morning.
She was so freaking vulnerable right now. I could do anything to her, and yet, she slept. Like a fucking baby. Hell, I could smother her in her sleep and she’d be gone. A life over in an instant. A life taken. It was what I did.
Without covering her, I turned and walked out of the bedroom. It was good to remember who I was. And her innocence was so opposite that. Whipping her earlier had felt good, but having her in my arms afterwards, having her cradled so that she lay her head on my chest, almost crawling into me? That was something else. I guess I’d expected her to hate me after the whipping — but her reaction hadn’t been that at all.
Why I even gave a shit I didn’t know — but I did.
Was I looking for redemption? Did I somehow think saving one life would make up for all the ones I’d taken? They had all deserved to die; I’d never felt remorse over any of the things I’d done. So what the fuck was happening to me now?
I went into the kitchen and switched on the light, opening the drawer where the cigarettes were. I looked at them, but just pushed it closed again. I didn’t want a cigarette. I wanted my mind clear of these thoughts, and sitting there idle wasn’t helping. She wasn’t helping.
Hell, she had me fucking scared to sleep. I didn’t want that nightmare again, didn’t want to see Charlie like that again. Ever.
Fuck.
Her purse sat on the kitchen table and I dumped the contents out. It was all the usual crap: wallet, lipstick, tissues, gum — nothing interesting. Nothing apart from her phone. I picked it up and found two contacts — one for ‘Allison,’ and another for ‘J. Thompson.’ Taking out my own phone, I copied both over, then dialed Ryan.
“Julien. What’s up?”
“I need you to look up some info on Allison St. Rose for me. She’s Jason’s kid sister.”
“All right, I can do that. She was hardly mentioned in the earlier reports though.”
“Well, look again. I want to know how much contact she has with her brother now. And I want to know more about Mia’s sister. Tanya? Died in a car crash?”
I could hear Ryan clicking away on his keyboard while I asked. “Yep. Car went over a bridge in New Jersey. Body was never recovered, but she was declared dead.”
“Nothing says suspicious like a missing body.”
“Well,” Ryan began, still typing fast. “Police report ruled it an accident. Samuel said she’d had some drinks and they’d had a fight. Always interesting.”
“That is interesting. How old was she?”
“Not quite twenty-six. Shame too. She was a looker.”
“How did she meet Samuel St. Rose anyway?”
It was quiet while he worked. “Typical. She was a prostitute. High end, but still. Probably met him escorting.”
“Then he marries her?”
“I’ll send over a photo,” Ryan said, chuckling.
“What about money? Did she have any?”
“A million was transferred to a fund in her name back when she was eighteen. Doesn’t look like she touched it though and”—more typing—”looks like that goes to your girl, unless of course, she doesn’t pick it up. Then it reverts to the St. Rose kids, to Jason and Allison. Split right down the middle.”
“So, we’re talking five hundred grand each on top of the millions they already have? That’s why he’s got a hit on her?”
That didn’t make sense. That much money wouldn’t matter to them.
“Hold on, there’s more.”
Ryan typed while I listened, tapping my foot, impatient. “What more?”
“Give me a minute, man. Okay, the dad owned a dry cleaning business. Several, in fact. He was being investigated for laundering money for some pretty bad people, which we knew about. Ah! Holy hell.”
“Go on.”
“One of the ledgers went missing a week before Tanya St. Rose’s death. I’m guessing it’s the real one and I’m guessing the St. Roses want it back bad.”
“That so?”
This was getting more interesting by the minute.
“Yep.”
“Find me what you can about Allison, Ryan.”
“Will do. When are you delivering Mia?”
I looked out the window, up at the stairs. I wasn’t going to tell Ryan my plans. Not yet. He’d get his cut, but he didn’t need to know about the change in numbers. “Soon.”
There was a pause on the other end of the phone, and for the first time in the years I’d known Ryan, that pause made me think.
“I’ll be in touch soon,” Ryan said finally.
“Thanks.”
Ryan was smart, and he thought like a criminal. I’d have to remember the warning I’d given Mia just yesterday. Money was the biggest motivator for most people. That was all there was to it.
I checked the time. It was almost five in the morning. Now was as good a time as any. Grabbing my jacket, I headed out the front door. Town was quiet, as expected. A partial moon lit the way to the cemetery, but I could have made the walk in the pitch dark. Charlie and I would play there when we were kids. I just never expected him to be a permanent resident of the place, not before me at least. He was my kid brother.
My grandmother had gotten her shit together after he died. Too little, too late, but at least she flew his body back to be buried in Italian soil with his parents. She was a tough old lady, my grandmother. And smart. She’d liked Mia, said something about her making an honest man out of me. But I shook my head at that. Mia wasn’t my girlfriend. She needed me, and I never turned down the kind of money she was worth. That was all.
A business arrangement. With benefits.
The gate creaked as I pushed it open. There were too many old people in Pitigliano. Not enough work to keep the younger ones here aside from tourism, and Pitigliano wasn’t exactly on the beaten path. Which was a good thing as far as I was concerned — but the village would someday die. It wouldn’t happen in my lifetime, but it would happen.
Walking along the path, I made my way toward the far corner where my family was buried. I hadn’t been here at all since Charlie had been buried. I’d been too pissed off to be anywhere. I’d gotten into drugs and lived on the streets for the first three years. But then I’d gotten smart. I’d started to do what I did so well. I became an assassin.
The three headstones stood lined up in a row, my mom in the middle, my dad on one side of her and Charlie on the other. I paused and took a deep breath before taking the final steps, pulling out some weeds along my father’s headstone before sitting down against the fence. I just sat there looking at them, not sure I wanted to figure out what I was feeling, picking at the grass instead, just looking at the headstones, reading their names. My parents had been happy. They’d been crazy in love, from what I remembered. We’d been a happy family. If we’d stayed in Italy, none of what happened would have happened. But times were hard, and you needed money to live.
I looked up at the sky, pushing down the weight that built in my chest. I stayed a while until dawn began to lighten the sky, waking the first of the birds. I may have dozed off, but it didn’t matter. I got up and pulled up three poppies, setting them on each of the headstones.
I didn’t look back when I walked out of the cemetery. I went to the house and took some money out of my wallet, leaving a note for Mia to go into town and buy what she needed for clothes since I’d destroyed hers.
Then I lay down on the sofa and closed my eyes.