Chapter 12
Gia
My stomach is a bundle of nerves. Not only has Castor been aloof for the last week, but I can’t get the silhouette of that guy in the Maserati out of my head.
It makes me really uneasy. Reminds of me of the guys who were after Marco in his late teens because he ripped off the wrong bodega. Colombians nearly ripped him limb-from-limb on more than one occasion. Are the same kind of people after Castor?
Great, now I have to worry about two assholes.
I throw on my sweater and grab my car keys to head to the grocery store. Hopefully a quick drive will get my mind off of him. I keep thinking of the amazing night we had – full of sex and laughs, and cuddles. He’s like a big, tattooed lion when that blazer is off, one that I just want to bury myself in and never let go. Those hardened blue eyes always soften when they land on mine.
Let me be your vice, Castor.
Stop ignoring me because ofhim.
I wave goodbye to Linda upstairs and head out the door. I’m meeting up with Stacey for coffee later because I can’t keep all this in anymore. It’s lonely again. Just when I found something to look forward to, he starts pulling away. I hope he’s not in trouble…
Oy. Stacey is going to kill me for being such a giant hypocrite. I know deep down she’d be happy that I got with such a bad-boy sex-pistol, but still. I feel like an ass.
It’s brisk out on a spring day, so I pull my sleeves over my fists and fold my arms as I walk to the car. I’m attentive to the types of cars on my block now. If I see a random expensive one, I know there’s trouble. But really, I hope to see Castor watching over me. After proclaiming he wants to explore what’s building between us, like a real couple settling into each other, he wouldn’t treat me like a fling, would he?
Chrt. Chrt.
My measly little Volkswagen Jetta chimes open, and as I open the door, I hear a voice close behind me.
“Excuse me, miss? I think you dropped this,” a strong Russian accent makes me jump in place.
I turn, terrified, to a man with three silver teeth among not-so-pearly whites and oversized aviators failing to hide dark black circles under his eyes.
My whole body turns frigid at how aggressively he advances. I’m cornered as he steps forward and shoves me into my own car.
“Hel—” A hand claps over my mouth.
“One word, and your brains fly all over the window, understand?” He trains an oversized pistol on me.
My heart thumps in my ears as I scramble awkwardly back into a seat. My leg is burning from crashing into the center console, and when he motions for me to move over with his gun, I do so without thinking.
“I don’t have much money on me. You want the car, take it.” I toss the keys at him. “Please.”
The man shuts the door, locking us both into the metal cage.
Not like this. Please…
I’m praying a neighbor saw the brief assault, or maybe sensed my undying panic. Castor… Marco… save me.
He presses the gun to his own head and smiles wide, making me horrified that he’s as unhinged as my brother.
“Sit still, relax. I do not want what you offer.” He grabs my wrist and pulls me closer, making me yelp. I exhale a shaky breath as he presses his hand against my breast. I want to die as I stare at the barrel pointed at me. “Ah, there it is.” He pushes hard on my chest. “Th-thump. Th-thump. Strong heart. You want it to keep beating, yes?”
I swallow past a lump in my throat and nod. Tears stream down my face as I analyze the predator. He’s distorted in my blurry vision – like a caricature, but the scar on his hairy arm is unmistakable, and so are those protruding veins on such a thin man. Was he just hiding behind a car, waiting for me to leave the house? What kind of sick fuck—
“Relax, my dear. You are merely collateral. Patrovski doesn’t like to do business unless he knows his partners are truly invested. If your boy slips up, then… bang.”
I shake my head. “I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”
“Of course you don’t, little sheep. You are just cargo. Baah.” He laughs maniacally.
“Please, just let me go.”
“You are Miss Popular in Bullion’s crew, huh? Always man watch here, man watch there. But now, I have you. And if you tell anybody, my tactical sniper rifle will find you in little apartment – when sleeping, or in shower, or painting—”
I gasp. How long has he been watching me?
“Bang!”
I jump in place.
“One shot through window and no one ever knows why. Understand?” His finger trails past my breasts… down to my belly as he cackles all the way.
I suck in my gut and kick as far back as possible.
“This is the price your boyfriend pays.” He bares his teeth at me. “Sleep easy.” His finger inches toward my area, and I want to crawl into a ball and pray this is a nightmare. His fingernails are dirty like he’d been digging a ditch all day, and the smell spewing from his pores is pure alcohol. “Remember, sheep, not a peep.”
I shut my eyes tight and nod as he slowly leans away. A quick glance around all the windows tells him the coast is clear, so he inches out of the car, slams the door, and struts down the street.
I’m left hyperventilating in the passenger’s seat. This man has the jump on both of them. If I tell my brother or Castor, he’ll kill me, or maybe kill us all.
Fear scratches through my chest like a hawk flying rampant inside me. This is what I wanted to avoid all these years when I disowned my brother. Now? I invited it right to my doorstep.
Fucking gangsters. It’s always goddamn something!
It takes me too long to unfreeze. Every second idle is one the Russian asshole has a chance to change his mind and kill me. I should flee, forever. Never talk to anyone I know again.
Getting back into the driver’s seat, my fingers shake as I wrangle the discarded keys off the floorboard. Pressing the break and hitting the ignition feels like I just grew wings, and a quick U-turn has me staring at my rearview mirror. I drive for an hour down backways and streets only I would know having lived here my whole life. I’m worried he put a tracker on my car, or something, so I park on Cross Bay Boulevard, run into a convenience store to get a notebook and pen, and order an Uber to Stacey’s house. On the way, I’m keeping the visual of that asshole fresh in my head. Some of the memory is blurry because of the blinding anxiety, but eventually my brain settles, and I can see his strong jaw, nose broken every which way, the shape of his eyes.
I drew portraits for years, so it’s a cakewalk for me to bring this bastard back to life. His hair thinning on the top but full in the back makes for an easy identifier so long as he doesn’t wear a hat. His cheeks were hollow, I think. And three silver teeth are impossible to hide.
I’m shivering as I rehash the fresh experience. I’m lucky – he could’ve full-on raped me and no one would’ve done a damn thing, apparently. My God.
Collateral for Patrovski?
I have to tell Castor… but I’m scared. He might have a crosshair trained on me right now. Maybe there’s a whole army of them watching me. What the hell do I know? Castor is some bigshot gold dealer, right? If millions are at stake, maybe it’s very important I die if he steps out of line.
My portrait is finished. I take a picture with my phone and crumple up the evidence. As of now? I have no idea what I’m going to do with it.
I purposely have the Uber driver pull to the end of the block before thanking him and hurrying out of the car. My equilibrium is off like I’ve been on a cruise for a week – all of my childhood fears rushing through my head.
I’m just a waitress and a painter. Leave me alone.
When I get to Stacey’s front door, I’m still holding my breath, counting the footsteps of her rushing down the stairs. She opens the door with a towel wrapped around her head, a skimpy top, and short-shorts on.
“Hey, baby girl! You’re here early. Whoa.” She backs up when I rush inside and slam the door behind me. Two locks isn’t enough, so I drag one of the bicycles in the foyer and wedge it under the doorknob. “Gia, what in the world?”
I’m shaking all over again, Stacey’s voice a muffled jumble of sound I can’t fully register. I’m underwater. I’m going to pop.
“Gia. Gia!” She grabs me by the shoulders while holding my eyes, breaking the spell. “What’s wrong?”
I shake my head. “Upstairs.”
“Okay, upstairs,” her voice is comforting, and so is her smoothly showered arm draped over my shoulder. “Breathe, hunnie.”
I listen to her, taking deep breaths to calm myself. When I get to her small messy apartment in a converted two-family house, I run to the first window I see and shut the shades.
“Okay, now you have to start talking.” Stacey locks her door.
“A man. Russian. He—um, assaulted me as I was getting into my car.” I run to the next window.
“Oh my God, Gia. Are you okay?”
“Yes. It was just a warning.”
“A warning? What the hell are you talking about? Did I miss the memo that you’re an international spy working at Bingo Bangos?”
A nervous chuckle comes out as I grab her by the hands and pull her to sit cross-legged on the floor with me. “I wish I was that brave.”
“Stop with the suspense, Gia! Speak. You’re scaring me.”
I exhale audibly. “Okay. Remember that night Castor DeMatteo visited Bangos?”
“Oh my, how could I forget?”
“Yeah, I—um, took a shift for him after you left.”
“What? I thought those mobsters brought their own staff.” Her mouth hangs open.
“They do, but you know, we have history. So he threw me a bone for some extra cash.”
“And you didn’t call your best friend back to help you out? I’m so mad at you.”
“Stacey…”
“Mm. Okay, I forgive you because of the trauma.” She grabs my hands. “Seriously, you’re shaking like a leaf. Go on, baby girl.”
“Well, when I went to start the shift, he kicked his friends out of his booth and invited me to sit with him. In my wildest dreams, I could never have imagined he liked me like that.”
“What—”
“We hooked up, sort of,” I admit.
“But your brother.”
“I freakin’ know, Stace. I’m in this secret sort of hell.”
“How the hell didn’t he find out? There were like eighty mobsters that rolled in.”
“Well…” I blush. “We kind of hooked up under the table, if you know what I mean.”
“You naughty bitch! That’s something out of my book. I’m so mad, ugh, but so proud.” Stacey shimmies.
“Stace!”
“Go on.”
“So, after the hook-up, I thought we were done, but then he mailed me a tip – which was a sleeve full of gold coins worth thousands of dollars, and his number. Naturally I rejected it. I’m not some hooker.”
“Bitch. Give it to me, then! I’ll hook if it means Castor DeMatteo is my one and only client. Ugh.”
“Well, he didn’t take it back. And really, I just wanted to see him again. So, I guess I am a hooker.” I wave the notion away. “Anyway, we’ve been loosely seeing each other since.” My lips push to one side. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner about all this, and now I caught feelings, Stacey. Big time. But he’s been pulling away because my brother’s been suspicious, and, and, now – at the worst possible time – a Russian mobster corners me and tells me I’m collateral to one of Castor’s jobs. And if I tell anybody, I’m dead.”
Stacey’s eyes widen.
I frown and avert my gaze. “If you want me out of here, I completely understand. I just… didn’t know where else to go.”
She pulls me in for a big hug. “You’re safe with me, Gia. No one would dare step foot in this pigsty.”
I chuckle and squeeze her tight. “Thank you.”
After a long moment of comfort, she pulls away. “Stay here for a few days. Lay low. I’ll take care of whatever you need.”
I reach into the zipped pocket of my sweater and pull out the roll of gold coins. “I was on my way to exchange some of these. How about a road trip instead? My treat.”
Her eyes light up, then she huffs. “But the Bangos?”
“We both got the stomach bug from the same restaurant,” I say, finding a smile deep down. “Besides, Charlie and Brenda have been begging for extra shifts.”
Her smile grows. “Woo! You do not need to say another word, baby girl, it is on!”
Her excitement masks my terror. All I can think about is a rifle waiting to take me out as soon as I leave the apartment. I’m worried my phone is tapped, the GPS bugged. How would I even know? But maybe I’m being too paranoid now.
“What are you going to do about the Russian man problem?” she asks as she starts digging for clothes.
My heart drops into my stomach again. “I can’t tell Marco, because then he’ll know I’ve been seeing Castor, and that’s worse than the Russian mob. I’m also scared he’s going to find out anyway. Shit.” I hug myself. “I have to tell Castor. But I’m going to wait until we’re far away, and that Russian guy isn’t trailing us.”
“I always knew these mobster boys would be a spicy kind of exciting. You’re really in the thick of it, Gia. Damn.”