21. June
JUNE
I’m strangely nervous and excited.
What’s Marnie going to think of this big, crazy house?
She grew up in a normal row home like I did. We met back in middle school and were close ever since. There were years where we drifted apart for all the stupid reasons kids sometimes do, like cliques and fights and boy drama, but in the end we came back together, no matter what.
Even when Marn got married to that asshole, she never disappeared. And when he broke her heart?
I was there to pick up the pieces.
Now she’s suffering because of me and it’s like a dagger in my guts.
I pick a room close to ours. It’s big but hasn’t been used in a while. I clean it up, refusing any help from Rafe’s staff. It feels wrong, letting someone else prep for Marnie, when I’m the one who should be doing penance.
And I know, I know, vacuuming and dusting and putting linens on the bed isn’t exactly going to save my soul from hell, but at least it makes me feel like I’m busy.
Hattie does a lot of “helping.” There isn’t much else for her to do.
My girl’s fidgety on the best of days and right now the days are bland.
She loves the pool, thank God, and explores the grounds around the house, but sometimes she sits in her room and stares at the TV and it feels like she’s sinking into herself in a way I don’t like.
I stretch myself as thin as I can. Several nurses bring in a hospital bed and stock Marnie’s private bathroom with everything she might need.
One of the guards installs handrails for the shower and another adds rugs, reasoning she’ll need better grip to keep from slipping.
It’s cute, the way they want to pitch in, and I let them do what they can.
At least they aren’t treating me like I’m carrying a disease as usual.
On the day of Marnie’s arrival, I’ve got too much adrenaline and energy. I burn it off by swimming with Hattie, doing laps around her and throwing her when she begs. Rafe is somewhere on the property doing very important work. I don’t know where or what and it truly doesn’t matter.
Marnie’s coming, and that’s all I care about.
“Ma’am, there’s a van coming.” It’s the guard who caulked the windows in Marnie’s room. He’s youngish, dark hair, a kind face. I have no idea how he got mixed up with people like my husband. He seems too normal. “I think it’s her.”
I rush from the pool and don’t have to peel Hattie out for once. She’s as happy as I am that Auntie Marnie will be staying with us. I dry the girl off and pull on clothes, heart racing with anticipation as I hurry through the house.
I’m chilly when I reach the front door, still damp from the pool and frozen from the air conditioning. I’m thinking I’ll show Marnie to her room as I step out onto the porch.
That’s when the shooting starts.
At first I don’t understand what’s going on.
Men stand around the dark van, and where’s Marnie?
Where’s her bed? Shouldn’t she be here? The men are spread out and carrying heavy automatic weapons which bark like fireworks, their muzzles spraying death and fire.
Blood splatters on the wall beside me and I look over to see that friendly caulking guard’s head pulverized into a shiny smear of brain and bone. He slumps to the ground.
Ten seconds earlier. If I hadn’t been in the pool…
Someone screams my name. Rafe’s guards rushing to defend me. But why are they doing that? More bullets slam into the wall next to my head and it finally sinks in.
It’s happening again.
I throw myself back inside barely in time to grab Hattie. She screams, tears streaming down her face. “TOO LOUD!” she yells, covering her ears. “Please make them stop!”
I don’t answer. I sprint to the stairs as more gunfire breaks out behind me. Windows shatter, spraying glass. I feel some bite into my arms and legs, shards of it slicing my skin. I don’t slow as I reach the bottom step and hurl myself upward, Hattie bouncing in my arms.
I’ve never moved so fast. I keep my body between the men outside and my daughter.
More guards are pouring in downstairs, but they get mowed down as the attackers burst in through the front door.
There are screams, blood, and I grip Hattie hard and cover her face and ears to keep her from hearing and seeing this nightmare.
I reach the top of the steps and panic.
Where the fuck am I supposed to go? There’s no escape from up here. Marnie’s room—Hattie’s room—my room?—
The closet.
I spring away. It’s stupid and I know it. The closet won’t protect us. But I hope it’ll keep us hidden long enough.
For what, I don’t even know.
I’m past thinking. I reach the room and rush in through the doors.
“Mommy! Mommy, stop! What’s happening, my ears hurt, Mommy!” Hattie sobs against my chest. I grit my teeth, hating this, hating myself, so angry I could burst to pieces, but she’s my priority now. I have to keep her safe, no matter what.
I throw myself into the closet and shut the door. “It’s okay, baby, it’s okay, we’re going to be safe.” I look around desperately. “Listen, hide under that pile of clothes, okay?”
Hattie shakes her head. “No! Mommy!”
“Listen to me.” I grip her arms. I’ve never once touched her like this but now I have to be firm.
I have to make sure she listens. Her little eyes go wide in surprise as I dig in my fingers hard enough to get her attention.
“You have to hide. Please, Hattie, get under the pile and do not move. Don’t make any noise, don’t do anything.
Stay in there until you hear me or Rafe tell you to come out. Can you do that?”
“Mommy, I don’t want to.”
“Go now.” There’s shouting down the hall. More shooting, more screaming. “Hattie, go!”
With tears streaming over her face, she wriggles into the pile of clothes. I cover her more, whispering as much encouragement as I can as the yelling and stomping gets closer. The shooting is more distant now; there’s fighting further away on the property, but it’s not here anymore.
Gone. She’s gone. I can’t see her and I have to stop fussing. The men are in the room now, I can hear them. I back away, heart racing, and press myself to the wall trying to sink into the clothes.
Go away. Go away. Go away!
The doorknob turns and the door slowly opens.
The man that enters isn’t much older than the guard I watched die, the nice one. This man’s holding a rifle, his clothes splattered with gore, sweat sheening his pale skin. He looks around, expression grim, and I’m so afraid Hattie’s going to do something to give herself away.
The clothes shift. There’s motion.
Shit.
I fall from my hiding place and drop to my knees. “You found me!” I yell, drawing his attention on to me. “Okay, you got me!”
His gun instantly points at my head. I think I’m going to die. That’s my end, right there, a steaming barrel held by a child. What the fuck is going on? Except he doesn’t pull the trigger. His eyes narrow, gaze hard.
“Are you June Corvino?”
“Yes! I’m Rafe’s wife!”
The barrel shoves against my head. “Where’s the girl?”
“With her nanny,” I say quickly, the lie coming easily. “She’s not here.”
“Don’t fuck with me.” He jabs the gun at me harder. “Where the fuck is she?”
Please don’t find her. Please don’t find her?—
“I told you, she’s not here!”
“Lying bitch.” The young man kicks me hard in the ribs. I grunt, falling sideways. Too close to the pile. It moves and I see Hattie’s terrified face gazing at me.
Stay where you are! Don’t move!
“Tell me where the girl is.” The young man kicks me again, harder this time.
I gasp in pain and grit my teeth, tears streaming, trying to hold it in so I don’t scare Hattie, but it hurts so much.
“Tell me, you fucking bitch, or I will stomp that pretty face of yours until it’s ruined. Start talking right?—“
“Mommy, no!”
Hattie bursts from the clothes. I scream as she clings to me, sobbing now, damn it, damn it, why didn’t she stay hidden?
I don’t matter, I’m not important, but she couldn’t do it.
The young man grunts and grabs the back of Hattie’s shirt, trying to haul her away, but Hattie cries out and holds on tighter, wriggling from his grip.
“Come with me, you little fucking?—“
The young man grunts as a fist cracks into his skull. Rafe slides into the room, dipping down to grab his gun barrel, wrenching it up. He uses the weapon to bash against the young man’s face, knocking him back and senseless. I curl around Hattie, protecting her from what Rafe is about to do?—
But there’s no gunshot.
“Are you okay?” Rafe kneels beside me. The young man is still alive, but clearly not conscious, blood pouring from a wound in his head. “Is Hattie okay?”
“We’re okay.” Relief hits me so hard my crying doubles. “She’s fine.”
Rafe wraps his arms around both of us and hugs tight. His touch is shockingly calming. I feel safe with him around in a way I never thought I would. But slowly, he peels Hattie away, even though I clutch at her.
“Nunzio is going to take Hattie to a saferoom purely as a precaution.” The captain of the guard is standing in our room, armed to the teeth, bloodied from cuts on his face. “She’ll be fine, I promise.”
“What? No, I don’t want to be apart from her.”
“Mommy!” Hattie whines and reaches for me, but Rafe is unrelenting.
“You will go as well.” Rafe nods for us to leave as he stands over the unconscious young soldier and kicks him lightly in the face.
Nunzio starts to take Hattie into the other room. I try to follow but stop when the young man moans, bends sideways, and pukes on the rug, regaining consciousness in a sudden burst.
I stare in horror as Rafe looms over him, a knife clutched in my husband’s right fist.
“Under better circumstances, this would be more clinical,” he says, taking a knee beside him. “However, the situation is what it is, and I need you to talk.” He stabs the knife into the young soldier’s thigh.
The soldier gasps, moaning and whimpering in pain. Rafe yanks it back out. Blood pours from the wound.
“Please, don’t do this.” The young man looks around frantically and his gaze lands on me. “Help me, please, you don’t know what he does… what he does to people…”
Rafe’s fist slams into his face. The young man’s head jerks back. “Don’t talk to my wife. Do you understand me?”
“Please,” he pleads, his face wild with pain and terror.
I want to follow Hattie and Nunzio, but I can’t seem to move, transfixed by my husband.
He looks every inch the monster I’ve been imagining.
It’s unleashed, all the hate and the pain, his dark side on full display.
He cuts the young man, not hesitating, not seeming to care at all when the wound bleeds and his victim cries out, sobbing and begging.
It’s horrific, and Rafe shows no emotion.
“Who sent you?” he asks and cuts every time the young man says he doesn’t know. “Who planned this? How did you get here?”
“It was Ignazio!” His pathetic sobs send ice down into my heart. “Ignazio and some of the other older Capos planned it! They sent us here… they wanted your daughter for leverage… they said you’re ruining the family, that we’re all finished…”
Rafe’s snarl is shocking. Only a moment earlier, he was calm. Now he stabs the young soldier again and again, jabbing and slicing, blood splattering everywhere. It’s vicious and horrible, and when he’s done, Rafe is drenched in sticky red and his victim is a ruined mess of butchered meat.
“The fucking accountant,” Rafe says to himself as if he doesn’t fully believe it. “All this time… Ignazio…”
“Rafe?”
He seems to only just realize I’m there. His face is twisted into a mask of pain and rage. “I’ve known him since I was a child, June. He was one of my father’s original Capos. He’s been in my life… I don’t know how long…”
“Rafe, I’m so sorry.”
I don’t know why I do it. I go to him and wrap my arms around my husband. I hug him tight, breathing in the smell of blood, gunpowder, and his sweat. I kiss his neck, wanting to comfort him, because it’s clear that he’s hurt.
Men came to his house and tried to take his daughter away.
All for some sick game.
And now to find out it was a member of his own family?
I can’t even begin to imagine.
“You have to go join Hattie and Nunzio.” Rafe sounds calmer now. “I’ll handle the cleanup.”
“Are you going to be okay?”
He looks at me and there’s only brutal honesty in his expression. “No. I’m not.”
“Rafe—“
“Go, June. If you want to help me, you can make sure you’re safe, you and our daughter.”
I don’t correct him this time. I get on my toes and kiss him. This brutal beast. I watched him torture, interrogate, and viciously murder a person, but I still want to ease his pain. Something’s broken inside of me. There should be more humanity, but I’m fresh out.
They tried to hurt my daughter.
There’s no mercy for beasts like them.