Chapter 6 – Ethan
Six
Ethan
I don’t want Amanda to stop fearing me because I have to call my mother. This call must happen in private, especially because if I stay near that woman for another minute, I’ll lose control over myself. Gamblers have strong impulses that we often act on and my impulses regarding Amanda when there’s a bed in the room are just plain wrong.
My heart pounds, hoping I get to mom in time. She carries regardless of what state we’re in. Her latest gun purchase was a Nightmare Before Christmas themed Glock 43X and trust me, mom knows how to use it…
She picks up after two rings.
“Hey, baby bear,” she answers in a voice that’s deadly sweet and fucking relieving to hear.
“Mom…”
I am a grown ass man. I have killed before. I am not her “baby bear”.
“Is everything okay?”
She can tell from my tone. Her instincts have always been fucking crazy.
“Are you at the casino?” she asks.
Hot shame bursts through me. The message is clear – “did you screw up again?”
“No. I’m at a motel. Something fucked happened and you need to stay away from our place.”
“What happened?” She doesn’t sound that worried. I guess when you have cancer, even if the treatment might be working, you put your life into perspective and let the little shit go a lot faster. That’s how mom has handled it so far, anyway. I try to keep it simple so she knows that we’re in danger, but we don’t have time for a complete debriefing.
“Bad guys came after me. Same club from out west, I think. I got away for now but… I don’t know how this is going to shake out.”
“Did you call Wyatt?” she asks. I promised her I wouldn’t tell Wyatt about the cancer until we had good news and I’ve kept my promise. Owen can be pushed out of asking too many questions, especially since he only gives a shit about being balls deep in his wife these days.
“No. They attacked about a block away from the condo.”
She exhales with relief, but still sounds relatively calm. Dad always loved that about her, and I think it’s the reason all of us boys remain drawn to wild women.
“I’m in Back Bay,” she says. “I can find a hotel nearby.”
“No,” I answer. “I need you further than that. I’ll get you a plane ticket to New York City. Go straight to Logan Airport. I’ll come see you in a few days.”
“Where do you expect me to stay in New York, Ethan? I have a doctor’s appointment in two weeks.”
“I’ll call Condom. He has places all over the East Coast. I’ll hook us up.”
“Okay, sweetheart. Stay in touch.”
“I’m sorry, mom.”
“Sorry for what?” she asks. “You didn’t give me cancer.”
“I love you.”
“Love you too, Bear.”
She hangs up. My foot taps impatiently on the red and dusty gold motel carpet. I have to choose my next calls carefully.
Darragh Murray picks up after the first ring.
“Ethan, what the fuck happened?!”
So he knows.
“I’ll get my guys to handle it.”
“Handle it? There are cops all over the building and they have bodies. You need to get rid of whatever gun you used and get the fuck out of Massachusetts. Now. ”
Shit. Cops. That isn’t good. I knew there was a risk of the police department responding, but my priority wasn’t the cops or the future or even to commit a damn murder. I just had to protect the woman in the room. I didn’t stop and think for a second.
“There has to be something I can do.”
“Stay away from here and stay out of trouble. I’ll have my people on it, but there’s only so much we can do once outside forces get involved.”
After I hang up the call with Darragh, I call Magnum Sinclair, who sounds like he's in a casino, even if they're a few hours behind.
"How long do you need the place for?" he asks.
"I don't know. Might have fucked up real bad in Boston."
"As long as you didn't kill anybody," he responds, laughing his ass off until he realizes that I'm not laughing.
Magnum clears his throat. "How long? How many people?"
"Me. Mom... And a friend."
He laughs again. "You don't have any friends outside of club business, Ethan."
"Are you going to help or not?"
Magnum owes me. I helped him take care of a massive problem he had a few years before dad died and he has more property than he knows what to do with. The dickhead always liked Monopoly as a kid -- and nobody really likes Monopoly -- and he liked it enough that he made it real life.
"Property isn't cheap in New York, Ethan."
"It's sitting empty right now," I answer gruffly. "Jeez, Magnum. Do you have to be such a dick?"
"Fine," he says. "Give me your Super Bowl picks and I'll get you a two bedroom... Midtown."
"I don't care what part of town it's in, as long as we can lay low for a while."
I hear suspicious, soft footsteps on the other side of the door. Amanda... My foot taps erratically on the carpet again. She disobeyed, but I need confirmation from Magnum before I swing the door open and handle that.
"Avoiding homicide might help you lay low a little better," he suggests.
Magnum is such a dick. He's worse than the rest of us, because he doesn't think he's a dick. He sees himself as a businessman who totally transcended the dirtier parts of club business.
"I was in a sticky situation."
"What? Like your idiot brother? Kidnapping some ridiculously thick woman of another ethnicity?"
"It's not that."
"Super Bowl picks."
"It's going to be Steelers, Cowboys."
"You are so full of shit. Did you see how Mahomes handed their asses to them last game? Pittsburgh over the Chiefs?"
"Yes. But I have insider information from the Pittsburgh maf... Listen. You asked for my picks, Magnum. Those are my picks."
It's bad enough he has my mind on gambling right now. I need him off my back. Thankfully, my impatient tone works. (It normally does.)
"Okay," he says. "I'll put five grand on that, a little extra to hedge my bets and you'd better be right."
"I'm right."
"I'm sending the information over. Tell Deb I say hi."
I grunt and hang up. Those footsteps back to the bed sound extremely obvious. She must not realize how good my hearing is -- either that or I truly have become a paranoid fuck.
I swing the motel room door open to find Amanda sitting innocently on the bed. I don't buy her neutral, disinterested facial expression for a second. She's a therapist, and used to hiding her ‘what the fuck was that’ feelings.
"I know you disobeyed my direct command, Amanda," I address her directly, expecting her to crack at least a little. Especially when I don’t call her doctor.
"I was sitting right here," she responds, looking me directly in the eye as she lies without flinching. A slight chill runs down my spine that I don't want to admit I felt.
This little woman couldn't possibly unnerve me enough to provoke a physical response.
"Damn good liar. Maybe you should have been a lawyer."
"Have you considered going to the police might work out in your favor?"
"I used a ghost gun from Texas."
Again, no expression, but I sense she disapproves. Of course she would, being from the great liberal state of Massachusetts where you have every single ounce of the wild human spirit choked out of you in exchange for the government reaching its hand up your ass and stealing as much of your paycheck as possible for complete bullshit.
"I would like to discuss your next move... and possibly negotiate a deal for my freedom in exchange for silence. Confidentiality is my specialty and... I don't want to go to New York."
My eyes flash with anger that I quickly suppress. She doesn't care that she betrayed herself either. The arrogant expression on her little face says, "And I'd do it again too, tough guy."
It's time for me to wipe that self-confidence away and turn it into something more useful for me... Obedience.
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