Chapter Twenty-Two
Jess
It’s one thing to try and poison someone. It’s another to see someone’s life burn out in an instant, forced out by a bullet in the brain.
When we get back to the apartment, I feel physically ill. Snake is quiet and distant. I know his mood has nothing to do with the corpse we left to rot in the desert. He’s probably mad at me for trying to stop him.
Monty is the real villain here. I’m sure he’ll be taking his fat ass out to Dr. Stone’s office to hand over another envelope thick with cash. Monty needs to die. Though after what I’ve seen, I doubt I have it in me to kill him.
So that’s how it is. The world belongs to those who are evil, because good people are too squeamish to stand up to them. It’s a sobering, and depressing realization.
I watch from the living room as Snake pours himself a glass of water in the kitchen. He plants his hand on the counter, drinking deeply. He puts the glass down, the lowers his head, looking at the ground.
Is Snake evil or good? I don’t think I’ll ever forget the numb look in his eyes when pulled the trigger, killing Toby. But I know he’s more than a murderer. He’s an intelligent man with a troubled childhood, and fiercely loyal. It’s that same loyalty that made him a murderer.
And what about me? I’m not so pure. I almost poisoned Monty that night, or an innocent restaurant worker who could’ve stolen a sip from the expensive tequila.
Snake swings his head towards me, raking his hand through his hair. He takes both of my hands in his. His fingers are freezing cold.
“It’s been a long day. Let’s go to bed,” he says.
When I look into his eyes, I see the dark vacancy I witnessed when he killed Toby. Instinctively, I pull away from him. I can’t share my bed with him, not tonight.
“I’d rather sleep alone,” I say. There’s an unexpected edge to my voice.
Snake squares his shoulders towards me. “Come on, Jess. You’re just stressed out.” He reaches for me. I pull away, holding my hands up defensively. Snake bristles at this. “So, what? I’m sleeping on the couch again?”
I rub my temples. My nerves are red and raw, and I’m exhausted.
“I’d prefer if you left,” I spit. “Give me a chance to breath.”
Snake shakes his head. “I’m not leaving you alone.”
“What?” I say, jerking my head towards him. “You still don’t trust me?”
“It’s not that.” Snake forces himself to be calm, though I see how tightly he’s squeezing his fists. “You’ve just been through something intense. I don’t want you to be alone.”
“Something intense? You mean when you killed Toby?”
Snake steps forward, narrowing his eyes. “You know what kind of business I’m in, what I do.”
“I know, I just-“ I clench my eyes shut, the image of Toby’s limp body sprawled over the desert ground flashing in my mind. My eyes are dewy when I open them. “Please. I just need to be alone.”
Snake’s lips harden. He doesn’t seem happy about this, but he eventually acquiesces with a nod.
“You know where the pillows and blankets are,” I toss over my shoulder before going to my room.
Of course, I can’t sleep. I don’t want to sleep, and unleash my troubled subconscious. I want to curl into a ball and cry. But I can’t justify weeping for myself. Hours ago, Toby was living and breathing. Now, he’s food for scorpions. I was an accomplice to his murder. I press my face into my pillow. How could I let myself get in so deep with the mob? Shit, I made better decisions when I was drinking all the time.
I lie in bed, staring up at the dark ceiling, watching the minutes, and hours tick by on the digital clock. I haven’t heard a sound from Snake since I went to bed. But around four in the morning, I hear his voice, low and secretive.
Who’s he talking to?
I quietly creep out of bed, and listen at the door.
“Listen to me,” Snake says. His voice is assertive, but he’s trying to be quiet. “Get out of town now. Buy a bus ticket. Go anywhere. And don’t tell anyone you’re leaving. Got it? And don’t tell anyone you spoke to me.”
I get the fizzy, lightheaded feeling of my blood pressure dropping. What the hell is going on? What’s Snake keeping from me?
I look at the crumpled blankets on the bed. I consider crawling under them and hiding there forever. But no. I vowed to never again turn a blind eye to the disturbing behavior of the men in my life. When Snake hangs up the phone, I burst out of the bedroom, and come into the living room hot.
“Who were you talking to?” I demand.
Snake is shocked to see me. He tries to conceal his cell phone under a pillow. “You’re up.”
“Yes, I’m up,” I hiss. “What was that phone call about? Is someone in danger?”
Snake leans forward, folding his hands between his knees. “It’s better if you don’t know. It doesn’t concern you.”
“Like hell it doesn’t.” I reach over the couch and grab his phone, then hold it like a weapon. “Tell me, or I’ll call that number back and make them tell me.”
Snake looks at the ceiling and groans. “Okay, okay. Have a seat.”
Still gripping the phone, I sit next to him, though a safe distance away.
“They’ve pinned the poisoned tequila on a guy I know. I was warning him,” Snake says.
My body goes temporarily numb. “I didn’t know they knew about the tequila.”
“They do.”
“Snake?” I screech. “What the fuck? Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I didn’t want to scare you.”
“Scare me?” I scoff. “This coming from the guy who’s threatened to kill me on multiple occasions? The guy who killed my co-worker right in front of me?”
“That’s not fair, Jess-“
“All this time-“ I shake my head, feeling like a profound fool. “I thought you were being honest with me. You’re no different than the rest.”
“You know that’s not true,” Snake says, sneering.
“What else are you keeping from me?”
“Nothing. That’s it. You know everything now.”
I sit back, quietly studying him. My mind is racing. An innocent person could be killed for what I did.
“I should’ve killed Monty,” I grumble. “None of this shit would be happening if he was dead.”
“I thought you were over that shit.”
All I can see is red. “You think I’m over it? Over Jake? Over losing a child? I’m not, Snake. I never will be. It fucking pisses me off to know Monty hasn’t paid for what he did-“
Snake lurches forward, grabbing my face. “Stop talking like that. That’s a good way to end up like Toby.”
I see a fire in his eyes. It burns intensely. He slips his arm around my waist, holding me tightly, protectively. I know that even though Snake is loyal to the Mariano’s on paper, it’s me that he’d do anything for. My rage turns into burning tears. I rest my forehead against Snake’s chest, letting him embrace me. “You’re upset,” Snake murmurs, stroking my hair. “You just saw a death. Come here.”
I fall against him, closing my eyes. And at some point, I fall asleep.
*
Things are tense, but quietly civil, between Snake and I for the next few days. I have reoccurring and intrusive thoughts about what happened to Toby, so I’m still not up to letting Snake sleep in my bed. He’s accepting of this on the outside, but I can tell it’s tearing him up.
There’s also been something else on my mind. When I found out that Snake hasn’t been completely honest with me, a seed was planted, and immediately grew wildly out of control.
One clear sunny morning, Snake drives me to work. I haven’t driven myself at all for the past few days. After I mentioned killing Monty again, Snake’s been watching me extra closely.
We’re stuck in traffic. Snake’s fiddling with the radio. I can’t get this suspicion out of my mind.
“Who killed Jake?” I ask, out of the blue.
Snake’s hand freezes on the radio buttons. “What? Monty gave the order.”
“I know, but-“ I stare out of my window at the red pickup truck beside us on the highway. “Monty didn’t pull the trigger. That’s what I’ve learned from hanging out with you. Capo’s give orders. Soldiers do the killing.”
Snake shrugs, cranking up the volume on a rap station. “Does it matter?”
I lick my dry lips. “It does. Do you know who it was?”
“I don’t know. Could’ve been anyone.” Traffic starts to move. Snake focuses his gaze on the road ahead. “What are you doing for lunch today?”
Lunch? Just the thought of food makes my stomach cramp. Even more repulsive is that Snake’s trying to change the subject.
“Would you tell me if you knew?” I ask.
He turns to me, raising an eyebrow. “I don’t know, okay? I don’t know every little thing the other soldiers do. It might be someone who’s not in our crew, a hired gun or something. There’s not a lot of transparency in the mob.” He presses the gas as traffic speeds up. “And you should also know from hanging out with me, that soldiers are just following orders. Usually, we don’t even know who we’re hitting, or why.”
Very convenient, I think, smart enough not to say that out loud.
Snake pulls up to the front of the building like he always does. “I’ll pick you up this evening,” he says.
I get out of the car before he can try to kiss me. In response, Snake revs the engine loudly before peeling out of the parking lot. I know he’ll be here to pick me up this evening. He didn’t have to tell me that. Snake’s watching my every move. He’s always there. Even though this has been the case for a while, for the first time, I feel like his prisoner.
I’m in my office that afternoon, and there’s a knock at the door. It’s Steve. Usually, he’s well groomed and impeccably dressed. This morning, he looks haggard. His facial hair is long and unruly, and I don’t even smell any cologne on him.
“I’ve got some terrible news,” Steve says, collapsing in chair. “Toby Brown. He hasn’t been seen for a few days. The police came to my house last night asking questions.”
The shock on my face is real. I blink, feeling the blood rushing to my feet. “That’s terrible.”
“Have you seen him?” Steve asks. “Or heard anything? Do you know anything?”
I look down at my desk, pretending to think. “Last time I saw him was at work a few days ago. We didn’t speak.”
Steve sighs, rubbing his face. “Who knows, maybe he just took an impromptu trip.”
“I’m sure it’s something like that.”
“Right, me too.” Steve stands up. “If you hear anything, or think of anything, please let me know. I’ll pass it along to the cops.”
“Of course.”
Steve walks closer to me, and taps his fingers on the desk. I can tell he’s working up the courage for something.
Don’t say anything else, Steve, I silently plead. Turn around, and walk the fuck out.
“Just one more thing,” he says. “Who was that man I saw you with the other day, at the cafe? He looked oddly familiar.”
“You wouldn’t know him,” I say, tensely.
Steve leans down, his eyes hard. “Really? Because I think a lot of people would know him. He’s a Mariano, right?”
Is he threatening me?
“His last name is Gallo, not Mariano.”
Steve stands up straight, a smirk on his face. “If you see something, Jess. Say something.”
“I need to get back to work.”
“I’ll let you do that.” Steve gives me a side-eyed stare before walking out.
My head falls forward, banging on the desk. Why do you have to be such a fucking idiot, Steve? What am I supposed to do now? Steve knows all about the credit card numbers, he knows I’m dating a mobster. Will he say something to the cops?
And what am I supposed to do? If I tell Snake about this, he’ll go to Monty, and that’s another corpse on my hands.
I could run, get the hell out of town, just like Snake advised his friend to do. But Snake would find me, I know he would. Or worse, another, and less sympathetic, Mariano would track me down. I know too much. I’ve seen too much. If I defect, they won’t let me live.