20. Grae #2
“You should fix that.” She’s right, so I walk into the kitchen, grab a bag of frozen peas and head back to the chaos. I kneel in front of Donny, placing one hand on his shoulder.
“Does it hurt?” I ask.
“No,” he says through gritted teeth.
“Don’t lie to me.” My voice drops an octave, slipping closer to my dom voice.
Donny swallows and whispers, “holy shit.” Sounds honest enough for me.
“I’m going to set your shoulder on three. Ready?” Donny tenses up anticipating the pain. “One,” and I shove his shoulder back into place. He screams and then rubs his arm. I give him the bag of frozen peas.
“Oh my God!” A high-pitched squeal comes from the doorway, and I have to blink for my brain to register that what I’m seeing is Lena jumping on her toes.
Shit, that’s right, I invited Lena to win brownie points.
Now that’s not going to happen. “You’re the Four Families! Alana has refused to let me meet you.”
“I have my reasons.” Alana pinches the bridge of her nose.
Lena walks right up to the four older men and puts her hand on the paunchy Italian guy’s stomach. “Aren’t you the cutest in the whole world?”
“Maybe don’t rub the Mob boss’s belly. He’s killed at least seventeen people that I’m aware of,” Alana states with zero joy in her voice.
So, the mob is standing in my apartment. I beat up some mobster like a 1930’s detective. But they do seem to be emotionally attached to Alana. Friends? Found Family? Either way, I should probably be a better host. I brighten my tone and ask, “Can I get anyone any water?”
The guy in the business suit slides onto the bar stool by the island and braces his head in his hands. His grumbly nature falters as he takes a few deep breaths. Something about it triggers my memory.
“Hey, I know you.” I hit on him a few months ago to prove I wasn’t hitting on his date. He has a cute dog. “Did things work out with you and that girl?”
“Yeah, she lives with me,” he says with pride.
“Congrats!”
“Thanks,” he grunts.
While I go back into the kitchen, Lena continues with her greetings of the older men.
“You’re Gio, right? Was your daughter’s wedding everything you wished it would be?”
“It was better than I imagined.” He has an old man's voice with an Italian accent. “I couldn’t be happier.”
“My bestie talks about you guys all the time. But since she’s being stingy with the visitation, I did my own research.” Lena speaks to the man Alana called Duncan. “I saw the piece Hospitality magazine did on Waverly’s hotel. It’s stunning.”
“I’m very proud of her.” This is the first time he speaks, but Lena’s attention has already moved onto the older Hispanic man.
“Oh my God, you must be Maria's grandpa! How can you get any work done with that cutie running around?”
He answers with a laugh, “It is very difficult.”
As I pass out bottles of water to the fallen men, Lena suddenly stops and stares down Uri. Who is still sitting on the couch and won’t look at me. Ignoring his embarrassment, Lena’s gaze slides between him and the older man, also studying the floor.
“Hey Uri?” He finally lifts his head to peer up at her, and he’s biting his fingernails and bouncing his left leg up and down. “Alana said I traumatized you when I told you that thing about her and Grae. And that’s like a big deal because you hooked up with him.”
Oh Jesus Christ.
After a quick scan of the room, most of the men are shocked with various reactions of disbelief. Uri covers his face with his hands, but Alana rolls her eyes. Cool, so the one guy I take home after meeting at a bar in like five years turns out to be Alana’s friend. Goddammit.
“Damn Uri, good pull,” Donny says, still in his spot on the floor. Hmm, I’m flattered, but my annoyance and embarrassment don’t really make up for it.
With his hands still covering his face Uri sighs, “This is much worse.”
“Sorry, but I’m about to make it up to you.
” She points to the man in front of her.
“Is this your dad who sent you to Russia?” But before he can answer, Lena’s fist with laser focus targets the man’s throat.
He coughs and drops to his knees, gasping for breath and spits little speckles of blood on my hardwood floor.
Alana moves her arm in a sweeping gesture.
“And that’s the reason I didn’t want you to meet the Four Families.
It’s for their safety.” She’s starting to lose control of the situation, which she must hate.
“Can someone please explain what the hell is going on? How did you even get in here?” The men shoot glances around the room.
“We’re not snitches.” The guy with the dog says. She is completely unamused.
“So, Lance gave you the access codes. Awesome. I will deal with him later.” Then she turns to Lena. "And why did Grae invite you here?”
“Because Grae is giving me his couch.”
“Uh huh.” She interrogates me next. “And why are you getting rid of the fifteen-thousand-dollar couch?” Uri jumps off said couch and puts as much distance between him and it as he can.
“It’s not comfortable and I don’t need it.”
“It’s a really nice couch. It pulls the whole room together.” She tilts her head, adding, “I like this couch. I had a very good time on it. Several good times, in fact.”
“Are you sure you want it now?” Donny calls over to Lena.
She sneers, “Not anymore.”
“The last time you were here, it scratched up your shoulder.” My eyes drop to the floor, and I kick an invisible dust bunny. “You’ve been hurt enough, and I didn’t want to keep something around that hurt you.”
The mood in the room shifts, like it's filled with puppies and cotton candy. The three older men give me little nods of approval. But Uri’s dad, between gasping breaths, says, “What a pussy. No wonder he can’t handle his drugs.”
Again, there’s an instant change. The comment isn’t anything I haven’t heard before at industry parties, so it doesn’t bother me. But when I look back at her, Alana has a gun pressed against Uri’s dad’s head.
“There’s a five-million-dollar life insurance policy on you, and I like your wife light-years more than you,” she says with all the warmth of an ice cube in Antarctica. Then she stares up at me.
The change would be imperceptible to anyone else, but I see it like a flashing billboard on her face.
Her rage at this man shifts when she meets my eyes.
Hidden behind the anger, there’s fear and panic.
She pulled a gun, a deadly weapon, so casually, and she’s using it as an empty threat. She’s shown her hidden side.
I speak slowly, each word getting darker and more aggressive, “Get out of my home.” I haven’t used this tone in years, I almost forgot I had it.
Alana pulls the gun back, the weight of shame making her shoulders sink as she whispers, “Sorry.” Then she takes a step towards the door.
“Not you.” I glare at the Four Families, the pieces of shit that brought out this dark side of her and point to the exit.
“You broke into my home in a feeble attempt to make threats and wave your dicks around. I already kicked the shit out of three of you. This is your only opportunity to leave, otherwise I’m locking the door, and you’ll be trapped in here with me. ”
Stunned men and their survival instincts kick in, and they shuffle out the door. There’s a quick mumbled ‘sorry’ and ‘you have a lovely home.’ Two men lift Uri’s dad off the ground and help him to his feet. Then I turn to the tiny pop star.
“Lena, I will talk to you tomorrow about making arrangements to move the couch. But it’s time you left too.”
Her head whips between Alana and me. There’s a silent conversation between them, girl-code stuff. Lena gives up and she squeezes Alana’s arm and says, "I'll call you later.” The door closes, and we stand in silence. Before the words ‘I’m sorry’ start to form, I cut her off.
“Are you ok?”
“I don’t…” she stammers, and her head dips making her hair shield her face. She looks down at the gun and sighs. “I should go.”
“Why?”
“I never wanted you to see this side of me.” She lowers her head more.
“You already told me about it.” I step towards her.
“Knowing something and witnessing it are two very different things.” She tucks her head in my chest as I wrap my arms around her. “I understand if you want me to leave.”
“Since this whole thing started, you’ve been trying to find excuses to run away from me.” I mumble, kissing her forehead. “But I’m not going anywhere.”
“I like who I am when I’m around you, but I’ve spent so much time as Alana it’s hard to go back to who I was.” She wraps her arms around my waist. “I’m not sure I can.”
“I’m not asking you to.”
We stood in my living room, holding one another for a while. The quiet was killing me, but I knew her gears were still turning. I would hold her like this forever if it might help her realize I want all of her.
I know she’s settled down when she shimmies against me. When I don’t let her go, she scoffs. “It was pretty hot seeing you dismantle my friends though.”
“I know.” I grin.
“Don’t get rid of the couch, I really do like it.”
“We’ll see.”