Enforcer (15 page)

“Da, I watched. I was wasting a lot,” Petre answered from behind his dark sunglasses.

“You mean you were really wasted?” Connor asked. Petre nodded. “You must have been. I barely played, and I haven’t fought since Wednesday night.”

Petre looked at him for a moment, trying to decide if Connor was making a joke. Connor looked straight ahead, his mind already wandering to Jera. They were headed to pick up the weekly payment from Larry. Connor figured the visits would eventually become less confrontational, unless Larry got further behind. Connor was pretty sure that would be no problem for him. The junkie might be able to move a lot of product for Ojacarcu, but he didn’t seem very bright.

Considering how many times Connor and Petre had made him bleed or scream in pain over the last two months, it seemed foolish to Connor that the man would ever want to fall behind on payments to Ojacarcu ever again. Larry simply couldn’t hold his tongue around them for some reason. Connor had seen it in plenty of hockey players over the years. Some guys just couldn’t shut the fuck up, no matter how many times they took a beating.

“How have you been?” Petre asked as they rounded the on-ramp for the connector.

“Alive,” Connor said.

“Da, I know that. But how have you been since your job with Dracul?”

Connor didn’t want to talk about it, didn’t want to think about it. The nightmares were now mostly a mash-up of his accident and Travis’s murder. Some nights only Niklas showed up to torment him. Some nights both ganged up on him. Twice he’d woken up after the ghosts of his past had begun to torture Dana. Once Jera had been giving him a handjob while Niklas and Travis took turns holding Dana down, having their way with her. That one had taken almost three days to dissipate from his psyche.

“Shitty,” Connor said.

“I know it is hard for you,” Petre said as they merged into the lane that transferred them to the main freeway.

“You don’t know shit,” Connor said bitterly, the memory of his latest nightmare pushing its way to the front of his mind.

“I do know shit,” Petre said, glancing at the angry young man in the seat next to him. “I have had to do it many times.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not you, am I? I’m not a killer like you. Do you have nightmares? Do your victims come back every night and fuck with your head?” Connor began to shout. “I didn’t fucking ask for this shit. I was just supposed to break a few noses, maybe a finger once in a while. People get themselves into shit when they know better. I get paid to remind them about those decisions. I didn’t sign on to watch a guy get killed less than three feet from me!”

Petre clicked on the Lincoln’s cruise control and studied Connor, looking back at the road every few seconds. Connor’s face was flushed, his breathing heavy, fists clenched in his lap. Petre wondered if his friend would try to swing at him while they were moving down the freeway at seventy miles per hour.

“I’m sorry, Connor. I am only trying to be your friend,” Petre said.

“You’re a shitty friend,” Connor said, staring out of the window to his right.

“Da, this is true,” Petre nodded. “I did not know Mr. Ojacarcu would do this. I would have said to him to not make you do this. But I am only hired man. Very little influence.”

“You couldn’t have known,” Connor replied, his voice softening.

“I have nightmares like you,” Petre said. “The queer, I saw him in my sleep for many years. I saw many men, too many women. Sometimes children. Children are worst.”

“Do you still have them?” Connor asked.

“Not often. After so many, I get used to it, I think. Maybe once in a month. Sometimes longer. I am immune?”

“Jesus Christ,” Connor said. “You’ve killed so many people that it doesn’t even bother you anymore?”

“It bothers me. But I don’t kill anymore. Dracul kills, but those are his nightmares, not mine. I told you. I am not happy to have killed so many, but I did. It cannot be changed.”

“You don’t even care about the ones Dracul murders?”

Petre shrugged. “I don’t like, but it is not my hands. It is his nightmare.” Petre looked over at Connor, who stared at him with disgust. “I do not think he has nightmares.”

“The fucker probably has wet dreams about them.”

“Wet dream?” Petre asked.

“Yeah, you know. A sex dream. He probably comes in his sheets whenever he kills them again in his dreams.”

“Ah, I know now. Maybe he wet dreams when they kill him instead?” Petre asked seriously.

Connor broke into a laugh. It was the funniest thing he’d heard in a while. Petre frowned, unsure if Connor was making fun of him. Connor saw the frown and explained why it was funny, making Petre laugh when he understood.

“Have you ever been in love?” Connor asked, changing the subject.

Petre almost drove into the emergency lane. He hadn’t expected such a question from his friend. He thought back to the three women he’d truly loved in his life. One of them had been his mother, but he was sure Connor wasn’t talking about that kind of love.

“Da. I love two women with sex. Are you in love?” he asked.

“Jesus, Petre. You’ve been in America how long? I’ve known you for four years and your English is actually getting worse with each passing year. Or do you do it on purpose? You know Ojacarcu speaks perfect English, right?”

“What does this have to do with fucking women?” Petre asked in confusion.

“Nothing. How did you know you were in love with them?”

Petre thought about it for a minute. “I am not sure. I know one day that I love them. Many years apart, but both the same. It is not one day I don’t love and next day I do love. I just know one day.”

“How long did it take?”

“Ilinca I know for many years. She was Radu’s woman. I love her for long time, but I say nothing. It is forbidden to desire another member’s wife or mistress. One day Radu is killed at collection by thieves. They cut head off, but the tattoos are his.”

“So you just swooped in and snatched her up?”

“I do not kidnap, no. I say nothing, do nothing. After many months of visiting, giving her money to live, I am told by Mr. Rohozeanu to bring her to see him. She thinks Mr. Rohozeanu is to help her, give her money. I think so too. But Mr. Rohozeanu, he tells her she owes him money. Money that Radu owed. Radu is now dead, Ilinca must pay.

“I am angry, but Mr. Rohozeanu is like father now. He took me in, gives me money, women, responsibility. I am loyal to him. But I am unhappy. I love Ilinca. Wished to tell her for long time my feelings, but it is forbidden, even after Radu is killed. Ilinca, she is smart woman. I am sure she knows my feelings, but she cannot refuse. Mr. Rohozeanu is not a man to tell no. He makes her work for him.”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Connor said in a low voice. “You were in love with her, couldn’t tell her, and your boss made her turn tricks?”

“Tricks?”

“A prostitute. A whore.
Cocotă
,” Connor said, remembering the Romanian word for whore.

“Ah. Yes. Prostituată. He makes her work for him. I see her very little then.”

“But you fucked her eventually?” Connor asked.

Petre gave him a dark look. “Yes. I
fuck
her,” the word came out in a spit. “But I have to pay. Mr. Rohozeanu, I think he knows somehow. I pay many times. Too many.”

“How? Why? How could you pay to fuck her?” Connor asked, amazed at Petre’s story.

“Because I love her,” he said, as if it were obvious. “I pay, and I am gentle with her. I want her to enjoy it, but she does not. She does not refuse. Bad things happen if she refuses customer. But she does not enjoy me. Many times I almost tell her I love her, have loved her since before Radu dies. But I cannot. But she knows after so many times. I am regular customer.

“Sometimes I pay for her for whole night. Just to keep her from others. Sometimes I do nothing with her, we watch bad American television or listen to American music. Sometimes just sleep. But most times we fuck. I cannot help myself. I am in love with her and think she will love me. I pretend she loves me.

“But Mr. Rohozeanu, he knows. He makes us both meet him. He tells us it is forbidden. Ilinca is his property and I cannot spend my money on her. I am sad because she does not say anything, does not cry, does not even blink. I want to kill Mr. Rohozeanu but I cannot. I am weak but I am loyal. But I cannot stop with Ilinca. I pay her, but we are careful.

“Not careful enough. I am called to Mr. Rohozeanu at cement factory one day. It is place we make pillars, foundation blocks. It is also place we get rid of bodies. Mr. Rohozeanu, he has contracts for bridges, new buildings for downtown Bucharest, roads. I think it is just another job. But I see Ilinca and I know we will both die. Mr. Rohozeanu is not kind to anyone not loyal.

“It is worse. He yells at me. Calls me names. Stupid, liar, not loyal. Accuses me of being in love with Ilinca, a prostituată, his prostituată. His property. I am told I will prove my loyalty to Mr. Rohozeanu. I am to kill Ilinca while he watches. If I do not, we are both killed and sealed inside giant concrete blocks.”

“Holy fuck,” Connor breathed. “You killed her, didn’t you?”

Petre looked away, unable to meet Connor’s eyes. “Da. I am to cut her throat. I cannot beg Mr. Rohozeanu for mercy. I cannot even beg to kill her another way. Mr. Rohozeanu hands me large knife. Very sharp. There are five others with guns. They will shoot me if I do not do this. I cut Ilinca’s throat. I do not cry, I do not say anything. I just cut. Mr. Rohozeanu claps like it is good movie and tells others to teach me loyalty. I am beaten and cannot walk for a month. But I do not cross Mr. Rohozeanu again.”

Connor felt like throwing up. He wondered if this Ilinca woman was one of Petre’s nightmares, and if not, how many others he must have killed to rid his sleeping mind of her. He tried to picture having to kill Dana while Dracul, Vadim, Petre, and Ojacarcu watched. He tried to convince himself he couldn’t do it, that he’d rather die with her than have to kill her. He frightened himself with his inability to be sure of exactly what he would do if he found himself in Petre’s shoes.

“What about the other woman you loved?” Connor asked, ridding his mind of the morbid thought of harming Dana, and wanting to get Petre’s mind on someone else.

“Helen,” Petre said without emotion.

“Did you kill her too?” Connor asked with more contempt than he’d intended.

“No. I meet Helen many years later. She owns bakery in Arad, away from Mr. Rohozeanu’s territory. She is someone I meet by chance when I am hungry one day. Helen is older, a widow. But she is fine looking woman and she is very smart. Much smarter than me. I visit her often and we become lovers.”

“What happened to her?” Connor asked, fascinated by his partner more than ever.

“I save money and take vacation with her after two years. Helen is wanting marriage, and I am wanting same. But Ilinca is in my dream, warning me. Ilinca says Helen will end up like her, killed by me because of Mr. Rohozeanu. We travel to Mamaia on Black Sea. We spend a week fucking, drinking, being in love. Before we go home, I give her briefcase with ten million leu. Almost two hundred thousand American dollars.

“I have cheated, skimmed, even robbed for two years we are together. I saved for many years before Helen, too. I give her everything I have. I tell her she must take money and never go home. I give her new papers. She cannot leave Romania, but she can go to Constanta to south. She has money to start new life without me.

“Helen refuses. She cries, cannot understand why I am making her leave. I tell her about Ilinca. About Mr. Rohozeanu. I apologize for putting her in danger. I am afraid of Mr. Rohozeanu. I am trusted again, but do not trust him. I am loyal. I do not want Helen to die or even get hurt. I cannot leave Romania, cannot quit working for Mr. Rohozeanu.

“I tell Helen I will go back to Arad and burn her bakery. I will find homeless woman or prostituată and kill her and put body in bakery so Helen will be official dead. I tell her that I love her but we cannot be together. She takes money but she does not forgive me. She hates me, tells me many times as she packs. I beg her to not hate me but she hates me, says she will find my grave when I die and spit on it every year for breaking her heart.”

“So you gave her everything? And made her run off to save her life?” Connor asked. The Lincoln wound through the streets of Caldwell, nearing Larry’s house.

“Da. I kill Ilinca with my own hands, and I kill Helen in my heart with love.”

CHAPTER 14

Larry gave them both a foul look as they entered the trash-strewn living room. Petre stood near the door. Connor walked to the hallway while Larry went to the back bedroom to retrieve the money. There was no sign of Jera. Larry returned a few minutes later with neat stacks of hundreds and twenties. He handed the money to Connor before sitting down on the ratty couch that looked like it might house a million cockroaches.

“Where’s Jera?” Connor asked as he thumbed through the money.

“She ain’t here,” Larry said.

Connor looked over at him. Larry stared back, but didn’t look his usual defiant self. Connor wondered if he’d finally learned his lesson about mouthing off. It was a wonder the tweaker had any hair left on his head or teeth left in his mouth after all the times he’d been dragged around by his hair and punched or kicked in the face.