Grabbing for the door knob, it turns before I put the key in. Not a good sign. When she’s wasted she’s careless with her own self-preservation. I’m surprised to find her awake and alert, sitting on the couch, smoking a cigarette. A full ashtray in front of her. Not her usual two dirtbags sitting opposite her on the couch, the dynamic duo is back. These two look better than most, but looks can be deceiving. They’re more trouble than anything she’s ever gotten herself into before.
The shorter of the two, the one that does most of the talking, spots me first. He opens his jacket ever so slightly, silently reminding me of who’s in charge before I can even open my mouth.
“What’s going on, Ma?” The room is so quiet, I hear the draw she takes on the cigarette. She’s smoked it so low she’s inhaling the filter, not far off from burning her fingers.
Closing her eyes, she smiles at me. It’s a face that apologizes at the same time it tells me she’s glad I’m here. “They found Jason.”
Exhaling a deep breath, I feel a small sense of relief. Although it doesn’t last long.
“Dead. Overdose,” the gun carrying drug dealer says to me stoically.
Great, just fucking great. I hang on for dear life, desperately needing someone…anyone…to catch the lifeline I’m throwing out. “The drugs or cash happen to turn up next to the body?”
Slowly, he shakes his head back and forth in silence.
Of course not, what was I thinking? This is my life, land of the ‘I don’t fucking believe this shit’ for the last twenty odd years. “So what now? You’re out 200 K.” I look to my mom who watches me and I see her wince at my next words. “You kill her, you’re still out 200 K. Gets you nothing, except now you gotta watch over your shoulder every minute of every day. Because I’ll snap your neck when you least expect it.” I stare unwavering into the eyes of a man that has killed before.
It’s a funny thing that happens when you feel like you have nothing else to lose. Everything that you say cuts right to the chase. No more taking time to deliberate, think about how to cushion your words. Because you don’t give a flying fuck what someone thinks anymore.
Eyes locked, me and the drug dealing boss stare at each other for long minutes, neither one of us cracking, not a flinch between us. Then he stands and what looks like a real smile crosses his face and he chuckles while he shakes his head. “I really like you kid. You’re either crazier than I thought you were, or you got balls made of titanium.” He slips the sunglasses from where they are hooked on his shirt and positions them over his eyes. “Think it might be a little of both.” He pauses. “So here’s what I’m gonna do. I’m not gonna kill your mother. I give you my word on that.” His smile widens. “But I’m gonna cut off a few fingers, maybe even some toes just for the fun of it. Then I’m gonna blind her. And fuck her up so badly that she’ll wish she was dead. But she won’t be. She’ll live. And the burden for taking care of the mess that remains every day for the rest of her life…that’ll be on you.”
My hands ball into fists at my sides and I watch his eyes drop to see I’m just about to blow. The taller guy stands and moves to his side, a silent declaration of support. “But like I said kid, I like you. And I don’t want that to happen. So here’s what we’re gonna do. We’re gonna place some big bets. And you’re gonna lose that fight next week.” He nods his head. “Then we’ll call it even.”
One hand on his waistband, holding what’s beneath his shirt, he walks to me and places a hand on my shoulder. “Got that?”
And then they’re gone.
Chapter 48
Liv
I don’t want to cry anymore. Sitting on the couch with Ally, I rehash everything in my head for the thousandth time, only this time I speak my thoughts aloud. Finally. Two days curled up in the fetal position alternating between crying and sleeping scared her. Scared me. I feel bad for making her worry. Never in my wildest dreams would I have thought losing a man would affect me so profoundly. Although Vinny’s not any man, and the loss affects me deeply. I finally own up to why.
“I’m in love with him, Ally.” A trail of dried tears stains my face, my eyes puffy and nose Rudolph red against my pale skin. Perhaps the well has run dry, I’m ready to talk now, words without tears.
“It really took you this long to figure that out?” she questions, half joking. I guess deep down I knew it all along, only I was afraid to admit it. Afraid I would get hurt again if I gave him my heart. Irony is a funny thing.