Chapter 2
DOVE
“Mom, I’m really sorry.” Alex has been apologizing ever since we left the hospital, only voicing minor confusion when I drove home using back streets and turns that turned a thirty-minute drive into almost an hour.
The sun’s already turning the sky a faint amber, and exhaustion clings to my lids while I stride through my small apartment to the kitchen with Alex on my tail.
Making a beeline for the coffee maker, I tap a few buttons to get the strongest brew possible and brace myself on the counter with both hands.
“Say something?” Alex says from the doorway.
All his snidey, snippy attitude melted away in the face of that cop and it’s taken until now for me to calm the urge to follow that bastard through the hospital and kill him in a supply closet.
I don’t do that anymore.
I’m normal now.
Ordinary.
Just a mother and her son.
“Mom?” Alex sounds so meek and it pulls hard at my heart.
Taking a deep breath, I turn away from the coffee maker and face him. “I don’t want to say something I’ll regret because I’m so angry with you right now, Alex. So angry. I mean, what the hell were you even thinking?!”
“It was just supposed to be a bit of fun!”
“Fun?! Where was the fun, Alex? When you snuck out of here and scared me half to death seeing your bed empty? When you stole a car? Or when you crashed it and put you and your friend in the hospital?” He opens his mouth and I point at him.
“And don’t you dare try and tell me Michael was driving because I saw that bruise on your shoulder. I know what seatbelt you were wearing!
His mouth snaps closed.
“Come on, tell me where the fun was?”
“I thought I’d be back before you woke up.”
“You’re fourteen, Alex! What are you doing sneaking out in the middle of the night in the first place?!”
“Michael wanted to hang out.”
“And? Where’s your sense, huh? Did you leave it on your pillow because you sure as hell didn’t take it with you. You could have been killed, Alex. Do you understand that? Do you see how close you came to that phone call telling me you were dead? Why! Why would you do this?!”
Despite the pain in his eyes, he remains defiant. “Just because you live a boring life, Mom, doesn’t mean I want to. Besides, you’re the one who taught me to drive in the first place!”
“As a safety measure!” I snap back. “For emergencies, not an invitation to steal other people’s cars!”
“Michael stole it,” Alex mutters. “Not me.”
“You drove it! Do you think that cop cares which of you busted the lock? No!”
Alex’s brows lift and his eyes dart down to the shadow of a bruise growing on my wrist from the cop’s manhandling.
The uncertainty in my eyes is enough to quell my anger temporarily, and with a deep sigh, I order him to sit.
After pouring myself some coffee, I get him tea and join him at our small, circular dinner table.
“Tell me everything.”
“Why?” Alex mutters. “You’ll just yell at me some more.”
“Well yelling doesn’t seem to be getting through to you, does it?” I sigh deeply. “Alex, I need you to understand how serious this is.”
“Is that cop coming back?”
I hesitate as he looks up at me, unable to hide the worry in his eyes. Taking his hand, I shake my head. “I’ll take care of it. All of it, like I always do. But just so you know, Social Services will be visiting.”
“Again?” Alex groans. “Why?”
“Because you’re fourteen and you stole a car. Does that make me look like a responsible parent?”
“I—.” Alex grunts. “It was just supposed to be a bit of fun. I don’t see what the big deal is.”
“Well maybe you can evaluate it all in your room because you are grounded until you graduate, you hear me?”
“What?!”
“Yup. I’m not getting any more terrifying calls like that. Not ever again, Alex. You’re under lock and key until I say otherwise.”
Despite the fight in his eyes, he doesn’t push it and instead relents, then he proceeds to tell me every detail of stealing my spare keys to sneak out (which adds two years onto his grounding), sneaking away with Michael, and everything he can remember about the car he stole and where he stole it from.
Then I send him to bed with a tight hug and a kiss, and settle into the lounge with my head in my hands.
What a nightmare.
I’m running out of ways to tame him, ways to stop him getting into trouble. Everything I do just seems to push him further away.
I can’t blame him for being restless because I was the exact same at his age but back then, my father put a gun in my hands and taught me how to use it.
I won’t give that life to my son.
After another strong coffee, I bury myself in my laptop and start digging.
The cop who threatened me clearly works for someone, but if I’m lucky, he’s just an overzealous bodyguard attached to some trust-fun asshole who wants to make a statement, and not anything else.
Initial searches of the street turn up nothing, and the same goes for the names of the businesses and homeowners on the street, so I dig deeper.
There’s not a lot of info on the car but the leases for a few of the buildings route through a small LLC attached to one name.
Rossi.
A deeper search using terms from my past life brings up the truth I was desperate to avoid, but glares at me in black and white.
My heart sinks.
The car belonged to a nameless man who worked for one Tee Rossi, the leader of a small, rather insignificant Mafia family that overcharges poor tenants and demands that business owners pay protection.
Now the cop makes more sense.
They’re the exact kind of family that thinks sending a brute to make threats equals success.
I’ve wiped families’ worth ten of them off the bottom of my shoe like they were dirt.
Easily ignored, if I were ten years younger. Now, they’re a threat.
My son’s name is in their vocabulary and that can't stand. If they go by the playbook, they’ll start heavy with the pressure and demand financial compensation that would double with every payment and I don’t have the cash for that.
“Mom?” Alex’s voice cuts through my thoughts.
I lean up and immediately wince as pain pulls through my stiff back. “What’s up, honey?”
“Didn’t you sleep?”
“Huh?”
Alex moves through the lounge and draws the curtains back, blinding me with the bright, sparkling midday sun. “It’s after twelve.”
“Oh.” A yawn pulls at my jaw and I shake my head. “I slept. I just got up early.”
“Does that mean you’re not mad at me anymore?”
“Oh no, I’m still mad.”
“Dang.”
“How are you feeling?”
Alex flops down onto the couch with a groan. “Everything hurts. My head and my neck and my chest and my arm throbs and it itches but I can’t—!” He holds his cast up and taps his fingers along the green bandages. “This is horrible. And Michael won’t call me back.”
“He’ll be as grounded as you are. Maybe this is a better lesson than my yelling,” I say while slowly standing and easing the stiffness out of my thighs. “I’ll check the mail and make you some breakfast.”
“Lunch,” Alex corrects as I head for the front door.
“It’s your first meal of the day, it’s definitely… breakfast.” I trail off after I open the front door because right on the doorstep, nailed into the wooden railing, is a dead cat.
The poor thing is scraggly enough to be a stray but the sight of it makes my heart break, and acid burns at the base of my throat.
A threat already?
Guess the cop really didn’t like being interrupted last night.
Briefly closing my eyes, a plan forms in my mind and I throw my head back. “Do you wanna get breakfast with Mary?”
“Thank you for doing this,” I say thirty minutes later after leaving Alex lounging on the couch inside my boss’s house. “I don’t want him to be alone after what happened.”
“Of course!” Mary croaks softly and pats my arm. “Anything you need, you just let me know.”
Despite the warmth in her eyes, the wobble in her stance, and the tremble in her voice, the age she desperately hides with hair dye and heavy makeup is betrayed.
Deep down, I know she won’t be able to stop Alex from leaving or, frankly, doing whatever he wants, but she will call me the moment he acts up, and that’s all I can hope for.
“You’ve already done so much for me,” I say, patting the back of her hand. “I’ll repay this with a home-cooked dinner.”
“Depends.” Mary narrows her eyes as she tilts her head back. “Will it include that terrible stuff out of the box?”
I can’t hold in my laugh. “No more shake-and-bake, I promise. Really home-cooked this time, I swear.”
“Alright, I’ll hold you to that, sweetheart.”
“Thanks. He’s already had his meds, but if I’m not back by six then he’s got another dose with him. I’ll call if I get held up.”
“Don’t fret! Go, enjoy your date!” Mary grins and wiggles her fingers at me, then she stays on the doorstep and watches me hurry down her path and back into my car.
A date is the perfect pretence if, by a twist of bad luck, anyone looks too deeply into my whereabouts.
So, after scouring two stores for the perfect slinky red dress and a black wig to hide my miles of red hair, I turn up at the restaurant situated two buildings down from where Alex stole the car.
Inside, the soft flute music clashes with the rather vibrant decor, while the empty tables carry a layer of dust.
This restaurant hasn’t seen business in months.
Not the best front for anyone with eyes.
“We’re closed,” calls a gravely voice from the bar.
I ignore it and head toward the only occupied table where a tall, thin man with platinum-blond hair sits nursing a Whisky and pouring over documents scattered about the table.
“Rossi?” I stop a foot away. “Tee Rossi?”
The man slowly lifts his head, revealing a half-burned cigarette hanging from his lips. “Huh?” he grunts and his eyes widen slightly as he catches sight of me. “The fuck are you?”
“I’m Tina,” I lie smoothly. “I’m here to make a deal.”