Skin Games (17 page)

Her voice was meek and snifflely as she said, “Your poor car.”

Putting up my toughest front, I replied, “It’s no big deal.  I’ll get another car.”

“I have a better idea.”  Her voice got stronger.  “Take mine.”

“Yeah.  Okay.  Sure.”

“No.  I’m serious.”

She walked around to the passenger side of her car and stepped in.  She stuck the key in the ignition, then reached over, opened the driver’s side door, and pushed it towards me.

“Get in.  I need a ride home.”

“Nicole.  Be serious.”

“Get in, Sean.”  I stood my ground on the sidewalk while she stepped over the gearshift and started the car, then settled back into the passenger’s side.  “Would you get in, please.”

I shook my head and looked around as if there was a hidden camera somewhere and the joke was about to come to an end.

“Sean, my dad has two Mercedes and a Caddy at home, and there’s only one of him.  I’ll borrow one of his cars.  It’s not a problem.  You can borrow my car until you get yours fixed or get a new one or whatever you decide to do about that.”

“You’re serious?”

“Would you get in!”

Slowly and somewhat begrudgingly, I stepped into the car.  The leather was soft as I settled into the seat.  The car smelled with a sweet mixture of cleaning products, air freshener and Nicole’s perfume.  Everything in the interior was jet black from the seats to the dashboard to the gearshift to the carpets; the only exception were the red tassels that hung from the rearview mirror.

“Damn, this is nice,” I said as I knocked the tassels and they began to swing back and forth.

“Thank you, I think.”

I put the car in gear and eased her out of the parking spot.  I barely touched the gas, and she took off.

“Man, this car is fast.”

“Try not to crash.”

“Very funny.  I will take good care of your car, Nicole.”

“I know you will.  I trust you.”

I turned my head towards her, and she gave me a quick peck on the lips.

“Hey, don’t distract me.  I’m driving heavy machinery here.”

“Oh.  Sorry.”

The BMW purred as we headed north on the thruway, nothing like the Alfa Romeo, or any car I’d driven for that matter.  When I gave it gas, it moved forward.  When I hit the brakes, it slowed.  There wasn’t a cloud of black exhaust trailing me everywhere I went.

“I love this car,” I said.

“You said that.  I get it.”

“No, really.  I’m just enjoying the ride.”

“I think that’s great.  Enjoy it.  You can keep it as long as you’d like.  Like I said, it’s no big deal.  I’ll have a car to drive.”

We got onto the Hutch, and then I turned down the quiet side street that led to her house.  My eyes were wide.  I still couldn’t get over the huge houses in her neighborhood and their vast foliage, well-trimmed hedges and perfectly manicured lawns.  More than that though, I still couldn’t get over the fact that Nicole Torretta was with me.

“What?  Why are you looking at me like that?” she asked.

“Just admiring your beauty.”

“Oh, stop it.”  She planted a wet one on my cheek.

Her semicircular driveway came into view, and I turned the wheel, and we slowly glided around the path.  There was a giant black Cadillac at the top of the semicircle.  I recognized it right away; I’d changed its oil and washed its chrome spoke wheels many times at Vinny’s shop.  I eased the BMW in behind it, and we came to a stop.

“Thanks for the ride,” she said.

“Thank you for the car.”

The front door opened, and Gucci Mike walked out of the house.  He slowly strode, his gait as much side-to-side as forward.  The gold in his ears shined, and his slick leather jacket hugged his body.  About halfway between the house and the Cadillac, he stopped dead in his tracks and glared at me.

Nicole put her arms around my neck.  I looked straight ahead, as stiff as the granite Virgin Mary on her front lawn.

The front door of the house opened again, and Don Mario walked out.  I think I may have audibly moaned or at least gulped really hard.  Mario was obviously fresh from the shower, his thin hair still wet and combed back.  His gut stuck out the bottom of a black suit jacket.

Mario caught up to Mike.  Mike’s eyes were still glued to me.  Mario paused but didn’t even look at us.

Nicole said, “Aren’t you going to kiss me goodbye?”

I didn’t respond.  I was frozen, looking at Mario.  Mario stood still.  Mike took out a cigarette and lit it, still glaring at me with a sneer that would send most people from my neighborhood into the witness protection program.  Mario took a cigar out from the breast pocket of his suit.  He took out his cigar clipper and snapped at the air a few times, then he snipped the top off the cigar and immediately started chewing on it.  I think Mike and Mario exchanged a few words.

“See you later,” Nicole said sounding somewhat deflated.  She kissed my cheek, as I looked straight ahead.  Then she got out of the car.

Just before she shut the door, I said, “See you tomorrow at the pizza place.”

“Yup,” she said and slammed the door.

Mario continued chewing on his cigar, but he didn’t light it.  Gucci Mike smoked his cigarette and said something to Nicole.  She looked over and nodded while continuing towards the house.  Mario didn’t move.  He didn’t talk to Nicole.  His expression didn’t change.  Other than his jaw chomping at the butt of the thick cigar, he was completely and totally still.

With the Cadillac blocking my path, I put the car in reverse and slowly backed out.  When I took one last look back, I saw Mario spit a giant gob of tobacco into the middle of the driveway.

* *

Later that night I was sitting on the couch at home, watching some television when the phone rang.

“Hello.”

“Shamrock, what’s up?”

“Hey, Vinny.”

“You comin’ down?”

“Where, to the shop?”

“Yeah, the shop.”

“I thought I was off tonight.  I was just watching some TV.”

“Nah, change of plans.  I thought I told you that.”

“No, you didn’t.”

“Well, I’m telling you now.  Come down.”

“Okay.  I’ll get dressed and be over in a few.”

“Cool.”

I got dressed, hopped in Nicole’s car and drove to Hunts Point.  When I pulled up to Vinny’s shop, it was dark.  I parked the car out front and walked to the bay doors.  With my hands cupped around my eyes, I looked in through the window.  I didn’t see anything.

I walked around the side and tapped the door lightly.  Then I knocked firmly.  I tried the knob, and the door opened.

“Hey, Vinny,” I called out as I walked into the shop.  “Are you crazy, leaving the door unlocked in this neighborhood?”

The shop was empty except for a car sitting in the middle of the floor.  I walked up to it and looked in.  It was a crummy, old Toyota Celica.

“Vinny?”

A light came on, and I heard a noise from the other side of the shop.  Vinny was standing there with Jose behind him.

“Hi,” I said.

“It’s about time you got here,” Vinny said.  “You and Jose get to work.  I need the Celica stripped, tonight.

Jose got into the car and started it up.  The starter motor pained and strained but wouldn’t turn over.

“Shamrock,” Jose said, “Just push me onto the lift.”

Jose put the car in neutral, and I pushed the car onto the lift.  We hoisted the car into the air and went to work removing anything and everything of value from it.

Our work wasn’t done until late, probably three in the morning.  Vinny was long gone, and me and Jose were cleaning up and putting tools away.

“You need a ride home?” I asked.

“Nah.  I’m good.”

“You got your car fixed?”  Jose’s Sentra was out of commission again.

“No, I’ll walk.”

“Serious?  When are you gonna get rid of that piece of shit?”

“Never.  I like it.”

I laughed as I said, “Come on.  Let me give you a lift.”

“It’s cool.  I like to walk.”

“At this hour?”

“Yeah, you know how it is.”

Jose washed the grease off his hands in the dirty corner sink and then left.  I checked the bay doors to make sure they were closed and locked.  Then I walked around to the side door, stepped outside, and I locked that, too.

My back was to the street as I slipped the key into the lock.  I heard shuffling feet, so I tried to turn towards it.

I felt something cut me at the knees, and before I could react something hit me in the back.  My mind flashed back to the yard at Riker’s Island.  I felt a punch to my gut.  My balance was wobbly, but I knew if I fell to the ground I would be totally fucked.

I managed to block a punch; then I threw one myself that landed in the side of a guy’s head.  Finally facing my attackers, I saw three.  They all wore hooded sweatshirts tied tightly.  I couldn’t see faces.  I threw another punch and hit the man closest to me.  He fell back.  But the other two advanced.  We exchanged shots, but they came at me from both sides.

Punches hit my gut and my shoulder on my right side while the guy on my left grabbed my arm and we started wrestling.  I was able to hold off the guy on my left, but the guy on my right was getting in free shots.

Somehow I shook free and nailed the guy to my right with one good shot.  Unfortunately, the third guy was up, and he and the guy to my left rushed me, and this time they restrained me.

I shook violently trying to shake free, but they had me.

The man I’d hit flush recovered and slowly walked towards me, as I tried vainly to shake the other two off of me.

He said two words in a gruff voice.  “Stay away.”  Then he jacked me hard in my eye, and I fell to the ground.

The three men walked away.

* *

A sharp pain in my back woke me.  I rolled over and looked at the red lights of the digital clock.  It was after two in the afternoon.  I struggled to my feet and dressed quickly.  In the bathroom, I tried not to look at myself, but couldn’t help it.  There was a red knot above my eye.  I combed my hair downward to try and cover it, but it was no use.  My bangs were too short.

I grabbed a pair of sunglasses along with the keys to the BMW and walked out to Nicole’s car.  My Alfa Romeo was still sitting in front of the house.  Despite the multiple cracks in the windshield and the busted windshield wipers, there was a parking ticket that had been strategically placed between the wipers and the windshield.  I ignored the ticket and got into the red BMW.

A Mercedes Benz sedan was parked in front of Costa’s.  The shine of a fresh wax job glistened off the jet-black exterior.  The meter it was parked in front of was expired.  I rolled in behind the Benz and pulled up the hand brake.

Nicole was reading a magazine and eating a slice at her usual table.  I walked up and sat down across from her.

“Hi,” she said.  She didn’t immediately look up, but when she did she said in a snide voice, “What’s with the shades, Hollywood?”

“Sunny day,” I said quickly, then I loudly called, “Gino, slice please.”

Gino nodded in acknowledgment and jumped into action.

“Sunny day, huh?”  She pushed her magazine aside and looked at me closely.  Her eyes squinted, and her head moved towards me.

“What?” I said, trying to play coy.

She pulled off the sunglasses and said, “Oh my god.  What happened to you?”

“It’s nothing.”

“No, it’s not.  You’re hurt.  You poor baby, are you okay?”

“I’m fine.  It’s nothing.  Really.”

“What happened?”

I turned towards the counter, “Hey, Gino.  Hurry it up.  I’m starving.”

“Would you knock it off?  Look at me.”

I kept my head turned towards Gino.  He grabbed the slice from the pizza oven and ran it over.

“Sorry, man.”  He smiled at Nicole.

“Thanks, Gino,” she said.  Then she turned to me, grabbed my hands and held them inside hers and said, “Please tell me what happened.”

“I got jumped last night.”

“You got jumped!”

“Yeah.  I told you it’s no big deal.  They stole my watch.  It happens.”

“Where did this happen?”

“In Hunts Point.”

“Hunts Point?”

“Yeah, outside Vinny’s shop.”

“Vinny’s shop?”

“Yes.  Vinny’s shop.  Would you quit grilling me?”  She would have made a great cop.  “I got jumped.  I was working late, and some guys must have seen me locking up and they jumped me.  It’s a shitty neighborhood.  These things happen.”

“These things don’t just happen.  You know it, and I know it.”

“I don’t know anything.  Some punks in hoodies stole my watch.  That’s all I know.”

“Do you even own a watch?”

“I did.”

“I never saw you wear one.”

“Nicole, stop it.”

“My father was responsible for this.”

“Nicole.  Please.”

“No, you please.”  Her voice turned from angry to whiny and the pouty bottom lip popped out.  “You could have been really hurt.  This has to stop.”

“Nicole.  Please stay out of this.”

“No.  I can’t, and I won’t.  How can I stay out of this?  I’m in this.  I am in this as much as you are.”

I took a bite of my slice and looked down.

“Don’t shut me out, Sean.”

“I’m not.  I’m eating my lunch.”

“Sean.  You said you’d stick by me.  You said you were different.  You said you wouldn’t cave in to my father at the first sign of pressure.  Didn’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Did you mean it?”

“Yes.”

She stood up and walked around the table.  Her hands gripped my neck and shoulders as she massaged me.  The tension in my neck wasn’t going anywhere, but the gesture was nice.

“I love you, Sean.”

I turned.  “I love you, too.”

“We’ll get through this.  Together.”

“Okay.”

Her voice got higher and cutesy, and her nose twinkled as she said, “Let’s go back to your place.”

“How can I say no to that offer?” I whispered.

We could barely keep our hands off each other as we paid our check then walked outside.  I peeled Nicole off of me and got into the BMW, and she followed me home in the Benz.  We parked the cars and rejoined each other like hormone-filled magnets.  My hands slipped under her tight-fitted shirt and ran down her belly while her hands reached around my Levi’s to grope my ass.  Her lips were all over my face and the side of my cheek, then she nibbled at the back of my neck while I sucked at her ear and chewed softly.