Chapter 3 #2
At the front of the cabin, I’d salvaged a few giant windows from the nearest town and installed them so that they looked out toward the river. My pair of armchairs faced in that direction, and the setting sun beyond the ridge and cliffs in the far distance.
Power was scarce, but efficient. I had several solar panels to assist with the running of the fridge, a freezer, a computer, and a backup generator for when the days grew short.
Trips into town for basics like TP, salt, spices, eggs, and beer were rare.
I was fifty miles from the nearest store, and when winter had me in its grasp, near impossible to reach.
I had a snowmobile for emergencies and a four-wheeler for the summer months, and worst-case, I could always call for air support using my satellite phone.
Warm LED lights, which barely used any power, were strung throughout the cabin, giving it a cozy feel. They made it easier to read books in the dark, especially during those long nights when I was up battling nightmares.
I had several bookshelves and a lot of puzzles. A 5000-piece puzzle, partially put together, sat on the small corner table. It showed a picture of a bear.
I didn’t keep pets, fearing it’d be too hard to ensure their safety with the wolves and wild animals around. Besides, I had Tallulah and the pine martens. Plenty of wild things came to visit and beg for food.
After finishing my meal, I washed and dried the plate, cleaned the grease from the cast iron pan, and put everything away. I then grabbed my laptop, plugged into the generator outlet on my desk, and opened the screen. Cracking open another beer, I began scrolling through my ever-refreshing feed.
Betty was lying in her new bed in Nash’s old room, watching a show on TV. Her cat lay on her chest, curled into a fluff. I’d installed these new cameras five months ago, hidden all over the house.
Before this, I’d accessed their home cameras without permission, which started after our night spent together post-Rembrandt heist about a year and a half ago now.
They were sufficient for that first year away from her, but Betty eventually figured out I was watching her, a fact that was my fault for sharing as part of my taunts last fall.
She ripped them all down in a fit of rage, giving me the middle finger before each went offline.
It was cute.
Easy fix, however, and I preferred my cameras anyway. They were of higher quality, crisper in viewing, and full-color. I could zoom in and adjust them, despite their tiny, unseeable size. I installed them in the darkest, least findable corners before leaving New York last.
For a long while, I’d prevented myself from spying, but as the months dragged on, my baser instincts won the fight. It was pathetic and addictive, but I had little restraint when it came to Buttercup. I couldn’t live without her, a fact that was becoming painfully clear.
It was a relief that she hadn’t brought a single man home since I left her. And to my enjoyment, there were plenty of other prime viewing opportunities when she took matters into her own hands and pulled out her vibrator.
She seemed pretty cozy and tired tonight, though. I didn’t foresee any steamy moments in our future. For that, I was disappointed.
I sipped my beer and watched her for a while. When the can emptied, Betty not moving from her spot, I closed the computer and left it to recharge.
Betty looked bored and lonely. Perhaps that was me projecting my own feelings, but we were in similar states of limbo. If I could figure out a way to escape my banishment, I could be with her.
While we both drew breath, this desire to be with her would never leave. She was all I wanted for myself, and I could see that future, clear as day. My biggest fear was having to witness her move on someday. Would she? If so, would I stop watching her? Could I?
The sun was setting when a call rang over the satellite phone on the desk beside the computer. I picked it up.
“Gray, it’s Ethan,” he said, not giving me a chance to say hi first.
“Hey E, how’s it going?”
“Meh, okay. As good as one can be in a wheelchair.”
Ethan, my best friend and benefactor, who had helped me escape the US as a teen and set up out here in the woods, was still keeping tabs on the New York mafia situation, watching their every move.
An FBI operative, hacker, and Mafia expert, he aided anti-Mafia groups nationwide and was currently working with the group focused on New York.
He’d been shot as a child in a Vegas drive-by, a Mafia hit gone wrong. Like me, he had a score to settle.
“You calling for a reason or just to say hello?” I asked.
Ethan laughed once. “Not much of a chit-chat guy, Gray. Unfortunately, it’s for a reason.”
“Oh, yeah?”
He sighed. “We’ve got some fresh developments. Your uncle Matteo just eliminated another branch of the family. Your cousin Genevra, her mother, and your uncle Luca. I’m sorry.”
I squeezed my eyes shut. While this sounded extreme, it wasn’t a surprise. This was what life was like for me in this family.
I hadn’t talked to Genny since we were kids.
She was a younger cousin of mine, in her late twenties.
Her father, Luca, was one of the nicer uncles.
She never had much to do with organized crime.
But involved or not, this is what they did.
They lanced every affected vein, taking out entire families to ensure compliance and instill fear among other members.
I rubbed my eyes, pinching the bridge of my nose. “Thanks for letting me know, E.”
Ethan went on, “Looks like Luca was making his move, looking to take Matteo out after all those years of planning. Luca had been doubling down lately, since things had heated up in the hunt for you. Sounds like he tried to get your uncle to forgive and leave you alone. Obviously, Matteo wasn’t having any of it.
He really has it out for you, so be extra careful; things still aren’t good here.
I just wanted you to maintain your guard. ”
I looked around my darkening cabin. “They can’t find me here.”
“I hope not, man. Stay safe, okay?” With that, he hung up.
Ethan was never one to putter about on the line, too paranoid someone might listen in and trace his whereabouts. Even I didn’t know where his home base was, but it had to be close to New York.
“Damn it,” I swore. Maybe things weren’t cooling down as I’d hoped.
Only one other uncle remained, and that was David. He was only one year younger than my father, the second oldest of the four brothers; my father had been the oldest. David, for what I could recall of him, had always been a nice man, firm, stalwart, and fair.
David, being older than Matteo, could readily intervene, ending the matter, but something was stopping him.
It was unclear what it was, but David no longer lived in New York, having left for Boston when everything happened.
That left Matteo as head of New York operations.
My running theory was that David was on Matteo’s side, just serving as the extended branch in another big city.
Either way, this didn’t bode well for me and Buttercup. I had to keep waiting and keep her safe. That’s all that mattered.