Chapter 30
KIRA
Gem was right. She usually is. Stellan taps his champagne glass against mine as I lounge in the seat next to his. The private plane is luxurious, beyond anything I’ve ever seen before, with its own little crew and a fully stocked kitchen.
“We’re only flying to Florida,” I say, marveling at the cashmere blankets and suite of entertainment options. As soon as my glass is empty, the flight attendant offers to top it up. I decline since this isn’t exactly that kind of trip. “This is sort of overkill, right?”
“This is sort of how we live now.”
I give him a sly smile. “Private planes and drive-by shootings. What a life.”
He grimaces and throws back his drink. He doesn’t turn it down when his refill arrives. “Prime and some of my men caught them. You don’t have to worry about them coming back.”
“Who were they? The Turks? And why would they want to hurt me?”
“I can’t say exactly what they wanted. Unfortunately, when I paid the survivors a visit, I wasn’t on my best behavior.”
I flinch slightly, but the idea of Stellan brutally murdering some men doesn’t bother me so much anymore. Not after what I saw at his ascension, and not after what we did in the graveyard.
“They’re getting closer, aren’t they?”
“Once we have the key and the book’s in my possession, the Turks won’t matter anymore.”
He sounds so sure of himself. I hope he’s right.
The flight’s uneventful. I can’t remember the last time I took a plane anywhere, but this is by far the best trip I’ve ever been on.
We reach Jacksonville International Airport, and there’s already a big black SUV waiting.
The driver’s a thickset man with a heavy Italian accent, and he clearly works for Stellan in some capacity.
“How far does your family reach?” I ask him once we’re on the road heading toward my mother’s address. She hit me up for money over a year back, which is how I know where to find her, and Stellan’s people confirmed that she’s still there.
“Far as we want it to. This man isn’t a part of my organization, but he does work for us.”
“Mercenary?”
“Of a sort.”
I watch the landscape roll past. The road cuts through thick stretches of pine and scrubby oak.
It’s mostly flat wetland. Long-limbed birds fish in the marshes, and I think I spot a couple of alligators sunning themselves on rocks.
We reach a small town called Palatka after about an hour, a place that looks like it was beautiful once but now is mostly falling apart.
The driver heads to the outskirts and slowly rolls into a modest trailer park.
The houses here are small. Some are maintained, but others look like they’re barely touched.
The main road through the development is paved, but the rest are gravel.
Big propane tanks sit next to rusting flatbed trucks.
Kids roam in packs, some playing football in the street.
They stare as we pass them. It’s later in the day, and people are home from work.
Lots of people sit on porches, staring out through screens.
It doesn’t feel dangerous, but it doesn’t feel good either.
“I can’t imagine my mom living here,” I say softly as the driver parks out front of a plain trailer house at the end of a cul-de-sac.
It’s not the nicest but not the worst either.
A little white Civic is parked out front.
“She loved designer bags. I remember she was so fashionable when I was little.”
“There’s a reason your father went into debt.”
“I know, it’s messed up, but still. This doesn’t feel like her.” I stare at the house, but I don’t move.
“You can stay in here. There’s no reason you have to go inside if you don’t want to.”
“No. I should.” But I still don’t open the door. “I want to face her. I haven’t seen her since she left.”
“She’ll be different. You know that. Years of using does that to people.”
“I know. Trust me, I know, I’ve seen it already.” I take a deep breath. I’m more nervous than I thought I’d be. I’m angrier too. I’m pissed for Gem, for my father, for everyone.
If she hadn’t sucked him dry, if she hadn’t been such a shitty addict, a terrible wife, an awful mother—
But this is where we are.
Stellan gets out, and I force myself to follow.
A woman’s waiting on the porch. She’s watching with a cautious stare.
It takes me a beat to recognize my mother looking ten years older than she ever did.
Her hair’s frizzy and graying. She’s wearing a white blouse and faded jeans.
She scowls when our eyes meet, and I get a flashback to when I was a little girl.
I was always so afraid of her anger. But she can’t punish me anymore.
“I was wondering if I’d ever see you again.” She pushes open the screen door and glances at Stellan. “Who’s the attractive rich man? You finally make a good choice?”
“Mom, this is Stellan Corsetti.”
The name instantly registers. I see it when her eyes widen, and she steps back. She quickly gathers herself. “Nice to meet you, Stellan. I guess my daughter told you all about me.” She holds the door open wider. “Come on in if that’s what you’re here for.”
I follow her inside. Stellan stays close behind. The driver remains outside, smoking a cigarette, glaring around dangerously. I suspect none of the neighbors are going to be nosy today.
The inside of the trailer isn’t as bad as I expected.
The couch is old but clean, the table is cluttered but in good shape, and there aren’t any dirty dishes in the sink.
A few empty beer bottles linger in a recycling bin.
Another open one is sweating beside an armchair where a skinny guy with a blond mustache and a scowl is waiting.
“Stellan, Kira, this is Scotty.” She gestures at him.
Scotty grunts in return. “Didn’t know you were havin’ friends over.”
Mom ignores him and pulls out some chairs. She clears more bottles off the table and pretends like there’s not clearly some kind of pipe in an ashtray. “Take a seat. You two want something? I made soup last night. Got some beer too.”
“You’re feedin’ them now? You better not let them drink up all our good stuff.”
Mom turns to her boyfriend. “Shut the fuck up.”
He glares, but he shuts up.
I sit down. Stellan joins me. “We’re fine,” I say and pat the table lightly. “We just want to talk about something important.”
“Alone.” Stellan looks at Scotty. “If you don’t mind.”
Scotty sits up straight. “Is this motherfucker saying I can’t be in my own damn house?”
“That’s what I’m saying.” Stellan leans toward him. “Go somewhere else.” He takes a small roll of money from his pocket and tosses it over. “Be a good boy and get busy.”
Scotty catches it, flipping through the cash skeptically, but shrugs and stands. “Alright, I ain’t gonna ask no questions then. You lot be good.” He moseys to the door. “I’ll be back in a bit.”
Once he’s gone, Mom sighs and looks at Stellan. “How much did you give him?”
“Three hundred.”
She rubs her face with one hand and stands. “He won’t be back for a week if he even survives. Which means my fix is gone too. God damn you people. What do you want?” She walks into the kitchen, grabs a pack of cigarettes, and lights up.
I struggle to settle my nerves. Stellan gives her boyfriend money and she acts like he did it to hurt her.
But that's my mother, always the victim, no matter what nasty shit she does to deserve what she gets.
I watch her take a drag and blow out smoke, and I try to remember what she was like the last time I saw her.
Not as thin, definitely not smoking. Her hair's got more gray in it now too. More wrinkles line her face.
But it's still Mom. I struggle against the wave of emotion and nostalgia that crashes into me.
“We're here to talk to you about something Dad left behind.”
She waves a hand in the air. “Why would you bring him up? Your father's long gone now.”
“I know what he did, Mom.” She glances at Stellan and quickly takes another drag. My eyes narrow. “I think you do too.”
“That's ancient history. Whatever your father did with his little friends, I'm not a part of it.”
“Mom, please. We're not here to punish you.”
“Of course you're not, since I didn't do anything wrong.” Her nose wrinkles and I note she's not looking at Stellan. “I told your father not to do anything stupid. I told him and he promised he wouldn't, but he was always so soft. I told him we'd work it out.”
Stellan suddenly leans forward. “Bryan was one of the toughest, most competent men I've ever met. You should reconsider the way you speak about him.”
Mom flinches. She takes another drag. “Whatever. He's gone, and I don't have anything else to say about him.”
“There was a jewelry box.” I start to feel a little desperate. I can feel this meeting beginning to slip away. Mom's always like this: avoidant and combative. Anything bad happens, it's never her fault. She couldn't possibly bring it on herself.
“What about it?”
“We found it in the wall in Gem's closet. You hid it in there, didn't you?”
She looks at me for a long moment, glances at Stella, and shrugs. “Your father did.”
“It had something, didn't it?”
“Just junk.”
“Come on, Mom. Why would Dad go to the trouble if all it had was junk? He told you about the key, didn't he?”
Her face pales slightly. She sucks on the cigarette, compulsively puts it out in an empty beer bottle, and lights another. “I don't know what you mean.”
My palms slam down on the table. I stand, anger smashing into me like a speeding train. I stare at my mother, vibrating with hate.
“You took it, didn't you? When you left, you took everything in that box. Dad died for that key, and you stole it.”
“I don't know—”
“Enough, Mom, enough lies, enough bullshit.
We're not going to hurt you. I just want to know where the damn key is. If you ever cared about me, if you ever cared about Gem even a tiny little bit, just for once in your life do the right thing and tell me where it is.” Tears run down my face.
I'm so mad at this woman for being such a terrible mother.
She ruined my life in so many different ways.
But I’m also mad at myself for letting her.
I know I’ve got pieces of her in me. I could easily deflect and act like none of this is my fault, but the truth is, I let myself get consumed by Gem’s genius and all her potential.
I wanted to work my ass off. It was easier than starting my own life.
It was a mission to keep me focused. Now I see my own part in all this, and I’m mad at myself, too.
Mom stares at me. She puts her cigarette out and lights another. Then she grabs a beer from the fridge, cracks it open, and takes a long swig. “Ten thousand.”
“What?” I almost laugh. It’s obscene. But she stares at me, no shame in her eyes.
“You wanna know? Ten thousand dollars. Don’t act like you can’t afford it. I know who he is.” She gestures at Stellan. “He just threw around a few hundred like it was nothing. I want ten thousand for my trouble.”
“Why? So you can shoot it all up and be dead in a week?”
“Don’t you talk to me that way. I’m still your mother.”
“No, you aren’t.” I look at Stellan. “Break her legs. Make her talk.”
He looks at me, his face completely impassive. “The legs are too dramatic. I’ll break each finger, one after the other. Most people don’t get through one hand.”
Mom gags on her beer. “Hold on a second.”
“Do it.” I step aside and turn my back on my mother. “Just do it quick before people start getting home from work.”
“Five thousand!” she says in a panic. “Hold on a second!”
Stellan gets to his feet. He rises to his full height. “I’m not negotiating.”
“Two thousand! Come on, you know that’s nothing to you!”
He walks toward her. “It’s something to Kira.”
“One thousand! Please, no, don’t!”
I punch the wall. It hurts my damn fist. “Pay her a thousand, Stellan, and if she doesn’t have something good to say, break all her fingers.”
Mom lets out a sob of relief. She’s slumped back against the refrigerator, looking desperate and pathetic. I’m still crying, and I hate myself for that too. I wish I were stronger.
Stellan counts out a wad of cash and tosses it onto the counter. “Talk.”
“There’s a pawn shop. When we got here, I took everything I grabbed from that box and gave it to them. I don’t know what happened to it all after. He only gave me a few hundred bucks—that cheap fucking asshole—and I know at least a few of those rings were worth some real money.”
“What’s it called?”
“I don’t know. Tyler’s or maybe Terry’s. No, it’s Lenny’s! Lenny’s Pawn Shop!”
I type the name into Google Maps, and it comes right up. “It’s only ten minutes from here.”
“We’ll go now.” Stellan doesn’t move. He continues to loom over my mother.
“That’s all I know,” she says meekly, lighting another cigarette with shaking hands.
“You don’t deserve daughters. Much less daughters like Kira and Gem. Make sure you never come back to my city ever again. Do you understand? There’s nothing for you in Philly. There’s no money. There’s no family. There’s only death. Do you understand?”
“Never liked Philly anyway,” she mutters, looking at the floor.
“Good.” Stellan walks away. Each step makes the trailer creak. He puts a hand on my arm and steers me to the door. “You okay?”
“Fine.” I wipe my face. “Just great.”
“I know that was hard.”
“Hard? What was hard about it? Just watched my mother debase herself and act like I’m nothing but an ATM with legs.”
When we’re outside, he pulls me into a tight hug. He kisses my cheek and neck, and I start to feel better. His touch soothes me, and his voice drags me back from the brink of darkness. It doesn’t fix me, but it’s a start.
“She’s just some lady now, right?” I bury my face in his chest. I wish I could stop crying. “I don’t even know her anymore.”
“That’s exactly right. She’s just some lady. You don’t owe her anything. You never did.”
When I feel better, I pull away. We get into the SUV, and the driver backs out, tires crunching on gravel.
I think I see an outline in the window. An old lady watching me, cigarette pinched between her teeth. But she looks like a stranger. Some woman I’ve never seen before. I wonder why she makes me feel so sad. I wipe my face and force myself to smile.