Chapter Fifty-Three
Chapter Fifty-three
When Iris had texted Gabe to say she and Hugo needed to come over, she didn’t say why.
He’d replied saying he was at his mother’s apartment in Williamsburg and that she should swing by and meet him there, and she agreed without much thought.
She didn’t expect the full house that met her when Gabe opened the door.
Everyone clamored to greet her—Gabe’s mom, Angie, his aunt Donna, and her son, his teenage cousin, Matthew.
They had obviously been celebrating something; the table had a Brooklyn Nets tablecloth over it and was strewn with empty glasses and picked-over paper plates.
Balloons were tied to the chairs. Iris was struck by the strong family resemblance among Gabe’s three relatives; all were short, tan, stocky brunettes with sparkly brown eyes and smile lines of varying depth.
The main difference between the sisters was that Angie’s hair was curly while Donna’s was ironed straight.
Matthew, who appeared to have Down Syndrome, was every bit his mother’s son, with a slightly crooked smile just like hers.
They welcomed Iris warmly but were clearly as surprised to see her as she was them.
“Girlfriend?” Matthew covered his mouth with his hand. “You didn’t tell us you had a girlfriend.”
“Yeah, you know why?” Gabe grinned. “Knock knock.”
“Who’s there?”
“Nunya.”
“Nunya business!” Matthew exclaimed, jumping the punchline.
“That’s right, bub!” Gabe made a tough guy face, making Matthew laugh.
His mom Angie said to Iris, “Don’t take it personal, hon. Gabriel doesn’t normally let us meet any girls, so you must be special.”
“It’s ’cause you all are so nosy. I don’t want you gossiping about me more than you already do.”
Matthew held up a finger. “Gabe, it’s not all about you.” They all laughed. Except Iris.
As much as Iris wished to be soothed by the cozy family atmosphere, the shocks of the evening had left her reeling.
She had no bandwidth for social graces, clearly, as she’d not only crashed these nice people’s party but brought her dog.
“I’m so sorry to interrupt, do you want me to take the dog outside? ”
Angie waved her off. “Not at all. We’re happy to have you both.”
“I love dogs.” Matthew pushed his chair out, sat on the floor, and opened his arms. Hugo waddled over to him immediately, tail wagging, and climbed straight into his lap—and he was normally slow to warm up to men.
Angie crossed to the refrigerator. “It’s Matthew’s eighteenth birthday. I just put the cake in the fridge, but there’s plenty left over. You want a piece?”
“It’s red velvet!” Matthew called out, as if that settled it.
Gabe stepped in, “As soon as you cross the threshold of this home, you have to eat something, I don’t make the rules. She does.” He nodded to his mother.
Iris managed a smile. “I’d love a small piece, thank you.”
Angie handed her a paper plate with a slice. “We had double to celebrate tonight, Matthew’s birthday and his first Giglio as a lifter tomorrow!”
Right, the Giglio festival, tomorrow. Iris had completely forgotten.
Gabe put a hand on Matthew’s shoulder. “We’ve been hitting the gym together prepping for it. You feel ready, right, bro?”
Matthew flexed his arm muscles like a body builder.
“Iris, are you coming with us?” Angie asked.
“I think so…” Iris took a bite of cake to stall.
Gabe came to her rescue. “So you’ll have plenty of time to pepper her with questions tomorrow night. I should get her and the pup to my place. Okay? I’ll take the trash out on my way.”
His mom was already rifling through the fridge again. “Yes to the trash, but Gabriel, take the rest of the chicken parm home with you, it’s takin’ up too much room in the fridge.” She emerged with a Tupperware container with a precarious tinfoil top. “Take it.”
Hugo sniffed the air approvingly.
Gabe was yanking the trash bag out and motioned to Iris and the leftovers. “Can you grab that, babe?”
“?‘Babe,’?” Donna repeated, nudging Matthew, who giggled.
“C’mon, we gotta get outta here before they start roasting me.”
—
Iris barely spoke on the ride to Gabe’s apartment, and by the time they arrived at his place, Gabe knew something was very wrong, but he didn’t press her.
He made her a cup of tea, cracked a beer for himself, and they sat on his fire escape to talk.
Somehow, with his quiet, patient company, Iris found the energy to fill him in.
Not on the revelation from her childhood, but on the surveillance video discovery, Wolff using Patrick to cause the explosion, Jonathan strong-arming her at Rao’s, even the sex tape, but Gabe was most concerned for her and the violation of her home. He urged her to call the authorities.
“I can’t call the police. I have no proof. I don’t even have the surveillance footage anymore, I’m locked out of my Wolff Dev email.”
“But the police already have the proof, it’s their NYPD surveillance at Hendricks.
Maybe you just tip them off, tell them to look at the video again.
And what about your apartment? That’s enough evidence of a crime, breaking and entering.
And basically kidnapping off the street, the message in the mirror?
That’s stalking, harassment, blackmail, threats… ”
“It’s my word against Jonathan’s, and believe me, his will count more. The apartment was a clear escalation, but how far is he willing to go?”
“I still don’t get how they broke in. You said there was no damage to the door. Could you have left it open this morning?”
“It locks automatically behind me. I mean, Wolff is a huge player in real estate, he probably has a way to get to every building manager, or pay one off, for a key. Or his guys are pros at picking a lock.”
“And the doorman didn’t see anything?”
“No. I had Sammy go over the lobby camera and the back entrance by the bike storage, and there was no one suspicious. They must have found another point of entry. Jonathan already had one of his goons get caught on video once, he’s not dumb enough to do it twice.”
“I still think we should report the break-in, even if you don’t want to share your suspicions of who did it. Just sleep on it. I’ll go with you to the station tomorrow.”
Iris knew she wasn’t going to take him up on that, for Gabe’s own sake. Jonathan had proved too good at tracking her movements, and she couldn’t risk another “friend” of his at the police precinct.
They came in from the fire escape, and Gabe ran her a bath, making sure the water wasn’t too hot, and left her alone to take it.
He got her a toothbrush and Tylenol PM at the bodega on the corner.
He picked out the softest of all his T-shirts for her to sleep in.
And he took Hugo out for his last walk of the night.
Lying in bed, an exhausted Iris still occasionally experienced a passing full body tremor, her flight response short-circuiting on loop. Gabe intuited that she didn’t want to be touched and lay facing her with a worried expression.
“You know you can stay here as long as you like. I’m gonna skip the Giglio tomorrow night, there’s way too much going on and this is way more important.”
“No, you go. Matthew’s counting on you. And it’s not like you can do anything anyway. I’ll just lock myself in here. Hugo will protect me.”
“He’s cute, but I don’t think he’s much of a watchdog.
” Gabe nodded to where Hugo slept with his legs splayed out behind him like a frog’s.
“I don’t think you should be alone. If you’re up for it, maybe you should come with us.
Honestly, there’s no safer place than Havemeyer Street during the Giglio.
The place will be mobbed with people, clergy, and cops.
My whole family is going, plus Pax and Scotty from the shop.
Believe me, that crew isn’t gonna let anything happen to you. ”
Iris considered it. She knew Jonathan cared about image, maybe a public place was best. “Okay, but you can’t tell them about any of this.
We need to keep this locked down until I figure out what I’m going to do to get Jonathan before he gets me or hurts anyone else.
I don’t want to tip him off, provoke him to release the tape… or worse.”
Gabe looked skeptical but acquiesced.
He didn’t know what she knew:
It can get worse.