Chapter Eight
Beth
When I left Douglas and Gabrielle’s, I couldn’t sleep. I wandered the streets near the condo, wondering what I’d have to do to get back into Douglas’s good graces. Not that I cared what he thought of me, but there was no way I’d be able to support myself given what few tools I had. If I wanted to survive in New York, I’d have to find Michael’s killer and bring him to justice…and fast.
I didn’t know where to start, so I went to the library and signed up for a slot at the computers. The library was practically empty as it was the middle of the night – the only people sitting at tables were obviously college kids, with giant cups of espresso and bags of cheese crackers. I envied them – they were so young, they had no idea what life could really throw when it wanted to. Back in college, I’d been naïve and happy-go-lucky. It was so hard to believe how much had changed in four years.
Thinking of Michael was incredibly painful. For a few moments, I’d almost forget and it would be easier to breathe. Then his lean face would slide into my mind and I would choke, gasping for air. I couldn’t stop wondering how much pain he’d been in when he died – did he know what was coming? Was he frightened?
Had he thought of me in his final moments?
I shuddered. Finally, a computer was freed and I slid into the seat still warmed by the other person’s ass. I pulled up a search engine and stared for a few minutes, before typing in the name Amoruso. I glanced around me, suddenly frightened that a thug was going to come out of the darkness and shoot me like they’d shot Michael. Finally, I pressed ‘enter’ and closed my eyes as I waited for the results to load.
When the articles loaded, I was shocked. The page was filled with acrimonious accusations against the Amoruso family. I couldn’t believe it – until just a few hours ago, I’d thought of the family as a successful restaurateur dynasty. But I was starting to learn that there was much more.
One of the articles caught my eye. The headline read: “Gianni Amoruso killed in auto accident – truly an accident?”
I shivered and wrapped my arms around myself as I waited for the page to load. Just as the text began to narrow and focus in front of me, someone grabbed the back of my neck. I tried to cry out but a hand slipped over my face and tightened over my mouth.
“Mmnf!” I cried. “Mnf!”
“Shut up,” a male voice hissed in one ear. “You want to wake the fucking dead, lady?”
My eyes were wide in fear and I tried to turn around in the chair but the hands were gripping me powerfully.
“Don’t you fucking dare,” the voice hissed in my ear. “You close the browser. You get your shit, and you leave the library. And you forget this ever happened.”
My heart turned to ice in my chest and I shivered. I tried to cry out but the hand pinched my lips together in a painful way and I felt my eyes well with tears. What was happening? Why was I being targeted like this?
And how had they known?
“You forget everything you heard downtown today,” the voice growled. “I’m giving you one chance to act like this never happened, you understand girlie?”
Slowly, I nodded my head.
“Now, close the page.”
With a shaking hand, I clicked out of the browser and deleted the history.
“Good,” the voice whispered in my ear. “You better hope you never see me again.”
But I can’t see you now, I wanted to protest. Who the hell are you?
After a few seconds, the death grip on my neck and mouth were released and I went hurling through the quiet air of the library, gasping and choking.
I tried to turn around and see who had attacked me, but the library was dark and quiet. The college kids were still sitting and studying, and I had the sinking feeling that none of them had noticed what had just happened. Nervously, I grabbed my bags and walked out of the library on shaky legs.
I knew what I had to do. I had to go downtown – to the police station – and report what had just happened. Obviously, someone in the Amoruso family was following me…and obviously, they wanted to keep what had happened to Michael a secret.
Well, this made me more determined than ever to bring my fiancé’s killer to justice.
I caught a cab and ducked low in the backseat as we drove downtown. The driver kept giving me odd looks in the rearview mirror, but I didn’t care. All I cared about was finding Detective Aberson and telling him what had happened to me. I could still feel the icy grip of fingers at the back of my neck, almost like I’d been grabbed by a ghost.
As the cab pulled up to the police station, I ducked my head up from the seat and quickly pulled a few dollars out of my wallet. That alone made me want to panic – I had almost nothing in my bank account, and in a few days, I’d be completely broke. If I didn’t get to work on finding Michael’s killer, I’d be out on the streets.
The cabbie eyed me. “You okay, lady?”
I nodded and sniffled. As he pulled away, I tried to stand up straight and figure out what to say to Detective Aberson. I was at the library, looking up the Amoruso family, and some guy threatened me, I thought. Yeah, that’s it. He’ll believe that, right? I mean, this is a ruthless family and they’re not going to stop until they make sure I won’t talk.
Just as my hand was on the door, someone grabbed me from behind. I cried out as fingers dug painfully into my upper arms and hustled me into a side alley. Someone threw me against the brick wall and pinned me back. When my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I realized it was a bulky man with olive skin and silver hair. He was breathing hard, and there was a bandage wrapped around his chest. His eyes were intense and dark, and the look on his face told me that he meant business.
“Don’t say a fucking word,” the man growled. He leaned in close. “I know why you’re here, and you’re gonna go home now and forget all about this.”
I whimpered and cried out in pain as he slammed me against the bricks once more.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I cried softly. “What do you want with me?”
The man growled. “You’d better fucking stop this bullshit right now, girlie,” the man hissed. It was a different voice than the one I’d heard at the library, and yet I couldn’t shake the feeling that the men were one in the same.
“I don’t know,” I cried. “Leave me alone!”
“Shut the fuck up,” the man hissed. “You keep your fucking nose out of this business, you understand? You ain’t got nothin’ to say to the cops, you hear me? You ain’t got nothin’!”
I narrowed my eyes and glared. “I’ll do whatever it takes to see the man who killed my fiancé brought to justice,” I growled. “Just try to stop me.”
The man shook his head slowly. He balled his hand into a fist and I closed my eyes, screwing my head away. When his fist connected with my jaw, pain bloomed in my head like I’d been shot. I cried out as he punched me over and over again. Stars and fireworks exploded in front of my eyes and I tasted salty, irony blood as my tongue sliced open against my teeth.
“The fuck you will,” the man growled. “You try anything else, and it’ll be the last thing you do.”
He started punching me over and over. As much as I tried to fight back, I knew that it was useless.
I was going to die, just like Michael, and I wouldn’t be able to do a damn thing about it.