Mobster's Angel (Mobster Series) (15 page)

Tonio and I look at each other. 
Who the fuck would do that?  If someone wanted to take me out, why not just fuckin’ shoot me?

“Get him up,” Tonio says.  I stand Baby up.  Tonio grabs the magnum and puts it in his jeans and continues to train his gun on Baby.  “Pick up the money.  You owe Vito three grand.”  Baby’s eyes widen. 

“But I got no bets tonight.”

“Now!”

Baby settles to picking up bills off the floor.  He counts out three thousand and hands it to me.  I lean down, swipe it, and shove it in my pocket.  “You’re closed.” Antonio says.  “Three weeks.”

“Three!”  Baby squeaks.

“If that guy comes around again or you see him, contact me immediately.  Got it?!”

Baby nods woefully.

“I’m very disappointed in your loyalty, Baby.  This isn’t over,” Tonio remarks, and we leave.

*****

“What the fuck was that all about?” Tonio asks me.

“I have no idea.”

“And what the hell is Erin doing here?” he asks.

“She wanted me to pick her up.  Ronnie was going to take her to the movies, but she’s relentless.  She wanted to come here.”

“That was stupid.  Of all the places to take her.”

I nod because he’s right. I have no fucking excuse.

Tonio’s Camaro is parked right at the doorway.  Erin jumps out and rushes over to hug me.

“Are you okay?”

“Hey, what about me?” Tonio jokes.  She hugs him too.

Megan and Ronnie are standing by the car.

“What happened?” Erin asks.

No one answers.

I ride home with Antonio and Megan.  I wanted to have Vito take me home, but it made more sense to ride with Megan.

“What were you doing at the fights?” my sister asks me.

“I didn’t want to spend the evening with Connor, so I asked Vito to pick me up.”

“He should have never taken you there. It’s very dangerous. It’s no place for you.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Talk like this angers me. I know I’ve had some rough patches, but they can’t lock me in a glass house and not expect me to break it.  Antonio doesn’t answer me. I drop the subject, for now. It’s late, everyone is tired, and my head is spinning from the whole ordeal. 

Our parents are asleep.  The house is quiet.  Megan and I head to our bedrooms. I shut my door and pull my shirt over my head and toss it to the floor. Tonight sucked the life out of me.  I tug on Vito’s oversized t-shirt that I found in my luggage when we left the casino.  It is the most comfortable thing I have.  I snuggle into it and pull the covers back on my mattress, ready to get some well-deserved sleep.  If I can fall asleep. 

Two buzzes come from my phone.  I threw it on the bed when I came in and now it’s lost between the blankets.  I rummage around to find it. It’s Vito.

Vito: U okay?

Me: Yeah.  Just another day in the hood, right?  LOL

Vito: I suppose so.

Me: R U okay?

Vito: Of course.

Me: Feeling any more effects?

Vito: No. I guess it takes a lot more to put me down.

Me: Very true.

I don’t want the conversation to be over, but I can’t think of what else to say. I ponder possible options, and then decide on a classic ‘thank you.’

Me: Thanks for an eventful evening.  Regardless of what happened, it was still better than eating dinner with Connor. ;)

No text back.  Long seconds go by and he doesn’t reply. I’m nervous, but I’m not sure why. I send along another text.

Me:
Night.

I lay the phone down beside me. After a few seconds, to my relief, it buzzes.

Vito: Night.

I lay down on my bed.  My heart is beating pretty quickly.  I reach over to plug in my phone and turn off my bedside light.  The darkness is thick and heavy and my eyes are wide open, as usual.  My mind runs through everything.  Arguing with Vito, watching him fight. The images are bright and vibrant. Even when I close my eyes, they flash clearly under my eyelids.  I toss this way and that, trying to get comfortable, and finally settle on one of my tricks to fall asleep - Vito hurtling fences.

One. Vito hurtles the fence.

Two. Vito hurtles the fence.

Three. Vito hurtles the fence.

My body gives way to relaxation, and I slip away to sleep.

*****

In the morning, I find my mother washing dishes at the sink and my father reading the paper.  I wonder if he reads the obituaries?

“Good morning,” I say.

“Morning,” Dad mumbles.

The dishes clash and clang.  Mom opens cabinet doors quickly and slams them shut.  She’s in a snit this morning.  I roll my eyes, listening to the racket she’s making.

I reach into the refrigerator for the orange juice.  I avoid my mother as I grab a glass.  I fill it and sit at the table with my dad.

“Clarissa and Joey want me to come and visit.  I’d like to go to California for Thanksgiving break.”

My father’s eyes look up at me from the paper. “Kay,” he says, without any questions or ceremony.  My mother slams the dishwasher door.

“I’ll need a ticket,” I add.

My father nods, but my mother can’t hold it in anymore.

“Where do you think you’re going?” she asks, acerbically.

“I’m going to visit my friends at the school I left to come back here.”

Megan comes into the kitchen.  Her red hair is fluffy and ratty from sleeping. 

“What’s going on?” she says through a yawn.  “It sounds like a thunderstorm down here.”

“You just got back.  You should be spending the holidays with your family,” my mother says through gritted teeth.

“Where’re you going?” Megan asks.  She’s really tired.  Her feet drag as she approaches the counter and the bottle of orange juice.

“Back to California to visit.”

“Good idea.”

My mother storms out of the room.

“She’ll get over it,” my father says, not taking his eyes off his newspaper.

“I’m going back to bed,” Megan says as she shuffles away. I don’t blame her - we got in late last night.

I follow her upstairs and head to my room too.  I could never go back to sleep.  I’m lucky when I get to sleep through the night, never mind slipping back into sleep after I’ve woken up in the morning.

Vito is on my mind.  I didn’t want to leave him last night.  He’s always so in control. Seeing him out of it, like the day I went to his apartment, is unsettling.  Immediately, I wonder if he’s okay this morning.  He seemed good last night when we parted, and he did text me.

I decide to pull out my homework.  Getting it down now means not having to rush through it on Sunday.  I make my bed and spread my science book and folder out on the blanket.  I grab a freshly sharpened pencil and get comfortable.

Page 174-218 answer all questions in margins,
I read in my planner.  I flip my book open, but my heart isn’t in it.  My mind is preoccupied with pictures of Vito… smiling, laughing, and tickling me.

He doesn’t smile much.  It is a rarity to see him smile.  He’s bossy too.  He orders me around.  When we were in South Bend, he was like a shadow I couldn’t get away from.  He was protecting me, though, taking care of me.  He did a ton of selfless things; shielding me from the burning metal of the car, trying to get me to eat when I was too depressed to even look at food. He even sat by my side night after night through all of my nightmares.  And my entire kick-ass wardrobe is because of him.

I slam my book closed and flop back on to my bed, confused.  There shouldn’t be anything to be perplexed about because he’s a great friend and I’m lucky to have him.

My phone sits on my side table exactly where I left it last night, plugged in to charge.  I stare at it.

Maybe…

Saturday morning I try to sleep in, but after last night I just can’t.  I can hear Ronnie snoring down the hallway.  I get up and put on a pot of coffee.  My stomach is off after having drugs in my system. I’m pissed!  Shit like that doesn’t happen to me.

I pop a piece of Italian bread into the toaster.  I click on the television and flip to the news.  I don’t have anything going on today for a change.  The toast pops and my phone dings with a text.  It’s Erin.  My heart jumps and speeds up.

Erin: How did you sleep?

Me: Good. 

I lie.

Me: You?

Erin: Pretty good. I’m going to Cali for Thanksgiving break.

A pang hurtles through me. The word
shit!
hovers in my brain.

Me: To stay?

Erin: No. Visit.

Me: Cool.

Erin: U have any plans today?

Me: Nope.

Erin: My mother is mad over last night.  I just thought I should get out of here before she breaks every dish in our house.

Me: K. I’ll be there soon.

Erin: KK

She wants to hang with me again even after the shit-storm at the fights.  I try not to read too much into it. 

*****

I take the fastest shower of my life and practically race over to her house.  I ring the doorbell, and Patrick answers.  Immediately, I say, “She asked me.  Last night, today…” I whisper.  He nods. 

“Tomorrow, meet me at the house,” he says in a low voice.  “Erin!” he calls out towards the stairs.

I step inside, and Erin’s mother is standing in the kitchen doorway.  Her lips are tight, forming a jagged line. She’s probably pissed because I’m here.  I smirk internally, enjoying the pleasant effect I have on people.

Erin comes bouncing down the stairs and my eyes lock on her, fixated. I stare as if the world has stopped.  It’s like someone turned a light on behind her eyes. She glows. My heart thumps in my chest like it never has before. My eyes are glued to her.

“I’m going out. I’ll be back later,” Erin tells her parents, smiling at me.  We walk out her front door together.  She is so short that I have to tip my head down to glance at her.  I’m like a kid in a candy store being this close.  I want to reach out and touch her.  I open the car door for her.

“Thanks,” she says.

I get in the driver’s seat. There’s a weird tension consuming the tight space of my Cadillac.  I glance at her and she’s looking straight ahead.

“Do you want to grab some breakfast?” I offer.

“Sure.  Sounds good.”

At the end of town, near the college, I know a small place.  They only serve breakfast and lunch, and they close at two.  I start to head that way, but when I glance in the rearview mirror I notice that the car behind us has followed my change of direction. I keep my eye on it.

“What’s the matter?”

“Nothing.”

I take the long way around and the car finally turns off on a side street. I relax.

“So. You’re all right after last night?” she asks me.  Erin’s tone searches through my feelings as she attempts to make small talk.

“Yup.”

“Did you work on the Comp. assignment?”

I shoot her an
are you crazy?
look and snort.  “No.”

She giggles. “I’m not sure what else I expected.”

“Hey, don’t insult my academic skills.” I look at her like I’m serious. She turns towards me a raises an eyebrow, concerned.

I crack a smile, and we both laugh.

*****

The restaurant is packed. I get a parking space across the street in front of a bunch of stores, so we have to walk a ways. Outside of the car, I take a step forward and Erin slips her arm under mine. I look down at it, surprised.

“Your strides are way bigger than mine. This will help me keep up,” Erin comments.

“Well, what do you expect when you have short legs like an oompa-loompa?”

“Hey,” she says, laughing, and hits my arm playfully.  “That’s not funny.”

“Yes it is.” I grin back at her.

We walk into the tiny restaurant, and I ask the closest waitress how long the wait is.

“Forty-five minutes,” she says.

“Do you want to go somewhere else?” I ask Erin.

“I don’t mind waiting,” she says.

Normally, I do mind waiting.  I don’t wait for shit, but with her, I don’t give a fuck.  I’d wait three hours just to have her hold my arm like she’s doing now.

“We can go hang out in the stores.”

I shrug my shoulders in an
okay
gesture and we walk back out.  The sky is gray - winter is trying to push its way in.

“Let’s go in here.”  Erin directs me towards a small used DVD store crushed between the restaurant and a grocery store.  I follow her inside. 

The place is lined with movies.  Erin browses down the aisle in front of us and I follow.  She doesn’t walk far before she stops and picks up a movie in the section marked C.  I look over her shoulder. 
Charlie and the Chocolate Factory.