Enforcer (31 page)

He would daydream about these things while waiting for Jera to finish, or during the times when there were a couple of hours between her appointments but not enough time to see Dana. Jera had become almost human toward him as the weeks rolled by. They had an unspoken agreement that if she had a few hours or more between appointments, he would drop her off at his apartment so she could be alone in peace and he would be free to do whatever he wanted.

Summertime for Dana was the same early morning schedule at the coffee shop, then nothing for the rest of the day. If she had to work the next day, she was usually in bed by nine, since she had to wake up at three in the morning. It made spending a lot of time with her a challenge. Connor was thankful that Jera didn’t interfere. He never confirmed that he was seeing someone, but she knew. The constant jokes and persistent questions had become another game to her. Connor deflected everything, mostly to protect Dana. He was fairly sure Jera would never do anything to fuck him over again, but she’d already made him a fool twice. He wasn’t giving her a third chance.

*****

Let’s go get a beer and sex some girls
Petre texted to Connor as he sat idling in the big luxury car.

I wish. She’s busy until after midnight
was Connor’s reply text a few minutes later.

Petre shut the car off, climbed out, walked to the door, and knocked loudly. He heard footsteps, watched the peephole go dark for a second, then heard the deadbolt turn. Dana opened the door a quarter of the way, staring out at him.

“Hello, Dana,” he said. “I am Connor’s friend.”

“I know who you are,” she said, closing the door slightly.

“Please, Dana. May I come in? We need to talk.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” she said, closing the door a little more.

“I’m not here to kill you,” Petre told her, still as a statue.

“No? How about kidnap me and make me whore for your boss?”

Petre sighed. “So you know about that.” It wasn’t a question. “Dana, we must talk about Connor. And you.”

She wanted to slam the door in his face, but knew she would have to listen to whatever the man had to say.

“What’s happened to him?” she asked, beginning to cycle images through her head of him hurt, in trouble, dead.

“He is at the moment driving his charge around, and in no danger,” Petre said. “Please, if we can talk inside. I promise you I am not here to harm you.”

Dana stepped back and let him in, closing the door behind him. Petre stood awkwardly, his towering frame looking out of place in her apartment. She gestured toward the dining room, and they sat across from each other at the table. She decided she wasn’t going to offer him anything to drink, wanting him to say what he’d come to say, and then go away.

“Does he love you?” Petre asked her, catching her off guard.

“Why do you care? What business is it of yours?” she asked angrily.

“Dana, we need to have a real conversation. It is for your sake. I am not here to write tabloid articles. Does he love you?”

“Yes,” she said, her tone indicating that she hoped he didn’t want to hear her say it.

“Has he told you he loves you?”

“Yes.” She looked down at the table.

“Do you love him?” Petre asked gently.

“Yes.”

“Have you told him?”

“No.” Dana felt like her shame was displayed in a neon sign with blinking arrows pointing to it.

“Good,” Petre said, sitting back in his chair a little.

“What do you mean ‘good?’”

“I apologize. I do not mean it as in I am glad you have not told him so he is denied the knowledge. It is good that you have not told him because this will be easier.”

“What will be easier? What’s happened to him? What have you done to him?” Her voice rose to a shout.

Petre put out his palm to calm her. “Nothing is happening to him. He is driving, as I said.”

He looked her in the eye for a few seconds before reaching across the table, indicating he wanted her to put her hand in his. She hesitated, fearing a trick, that he was there to kill her in some sadistic way. Petre’s face was impassive, a blank mask of stone. She gave in after a few more seconds, her hand joining his in the middle of the table.

“It will be easier to tell you that you must leave,” he said. “It will not hurt him as much when you are gone, if you have not told him you love him. He will not forget everything but you and try to find you.”

She jerked her hand back. “What?” she asked. “What do you mean I have to leave? Leave him? Fuck you. I don’t give a shit who you are, who your fucking boss is. You can’t control me like you can your whores. You
won’t
tell me we can’t be together!” She was screaming by the end, no longer sitting in the chair, hands clenched at her sides.

“Dana,” Petre said, his voice calm, his hands gesturing for her to sit back down. “You must leave Boise. You must leave Idaho. You cannot be here anymore. If you love him, if you wish to remain safe and for him to remain safe, you must go.”

“Why?” she shouted, tears streaming down her cheeks. She fell into the chair, misery rolling off her in waves.

“There are bad things happening,” Petre said, reaching out again for her hand. “Connor is in danger, I am in danger, all of us are. When Mr. Ojacarcu finds out about you… and he will, there is no doubt. He’s been checking the names of people Connor has given his hockey tickets to, and your name is frequent. He will punish Connor by punishing you.”

“I will never be one of his prostitutes. I won’t be a drug mule. I’ll go straight to the cops. I should be doing that right now, you piece of shit.” She wanted to spit on his hand that still waited for hers. She wanted to stab it and make him scream like she had been screaming.

He shook his head. “You know enough to know that if you go to the police, then you will not live. Your family will be found and they will be killed first. Maybe even your friend at the coffee shop?”

“Jesus Christ, have you been following me? You sick fuck. Don’t you dare threaten Alice. I just work with her. She hasn’t done anything!” Dana was almost hysterical with fear at the threats this
henchman
directed at her and those she cared about.

“I do not threaten, Dana. I am telling you that if you go to the police, or even the FBI, they will give you protection, but your family, your friends, they will not have protection. Mr. Ojacarcu is very good at keeping those who know technology around him. You will understand when I say his
geeks
will find everything about you and your family. Then you will begin to pay the price as your mother, your sister, even your cousins, the twin girls, they will all end up murdered.

“I do not threaten. This is what
he
will do. If you are found and refuse to cooperate with him, you will be be hurt. Hurt more than you have ever feared. You
will
become a junkie so that you can be controlled. If you still refuse, you will be killed. Connor will be forced to kill you.”

“Bullshit, he would never do it,” she scoffed.

“He will be given the choice. I know this. I have stood in the same shoes once. If he does not kill you, you both will be killed. His death will be an ‘accident’ because he is known, and it will raise questions. You are a nobody, and your body will disappear. Your family will ask, the police will ask, but with Connor dead, it will be suggested that you are the murderer and on the run.”

Dana couldn’t take anymore, her sobs making her shake in her chair. Petre’s hand still remained on the table, patient, inviting. She hated the man. Hated him more at the moment than she hated his boss. Hated that he was a killer of men, probably a killer of women and children.

“What do you mean you have been in the same shoes?” she asked when she got herself a little more under control.

Petre leaned forward, his face becoming blank, smooth stone, devoid of emotions. He told her about Ilinca, how he’d loved her, how he’d had to bring her before the boss, Rohozeanu, and how the boss had put her to work. His voice remained steady as he told the tale, not even wavering when he relayed how he’d had to cut Ilinca’s throat to save his own life.

Dana shrieked. “You monster! I knew you were a killer, but I never knew just how evil you really are. I can’t believe Connor talks about you like you’re his friend. You aren’t his friend! You’re nothing more than a fucking thug, a murderer, a demon in human skin!”

“I am Connor’s friend,” Petre told her.

“Bullshit!”

“I am Connor’s friend,” he repeated. “Because I am his friend, I am here telling you that you must leave.”

He told her about Helen, how he’d loved her, how she’d loved him, and how at the end he’d had to send her away to protect her, to save her life, and to save him from having to ever repeat what he’d done to Ilinca.

“I love him,” she sobbed. Her hand finally found his in the middle of the table. He held on, squeezing with gentle pressure to let her know he understood. “I couldn’t tell him because I didn’t want to hurt him if he couldn’t get away from this shit he’s caught up in. I can’t live like that, constantly fearing that you or someone else will show up one night to kill me or snatch me up and send me away. We keep talking about how to get away from it, so we can be together, but I don’t think it’s possible. So I didn’t want to tell him and have him risk his life because of me.”

“He is crazy,” Petre said. “He loves you so much already. He will not forget you ever, but he must not have a reason to follow you. It is too risky. I am sorry that it has to be this way. You must be Helen, not Ilinca. Connor, he will choose to die with you. It is honorable, romantic even, but it is a waste. You will not be here, so you will not die, so you will not have to watch him debate the choice of whether to kill you or die with you. You will not have to die together in such a terrible way.”

“What is he doing that is so dangerous that I have to leave?” she asked, unwilling to give up without a fight, without exploring every angle.

“He has not told you?” Petre asked, showing surprise for the first time.

“No, he only says he has to drive people around, people that the rest of you don’t want to be caught with.”

“I am sorry, Dana. Connor has to drive around a prostitute, take her to her appointments and collect her money like a pimp.”

“Jera,” she breathed, an icy fist crushing her heart completely.

“You know her, then,” Petre said.

“The drug addict he picked up in the middle of the night.”

“Yes, her. He has been driving her for almost four months now. The night after he picked the woman up, she called her dealer, who called Mr. Ojacarcu claiming kidnapping. Mr. Ojacarcu, he settled the matter by making both of them suffer. The dealer is behind on payments, and the woman was whoring for him, so Mr. Ojacarcu makes the woman whore for him now. Connor, he disobeys Mr. Ojacarcu and even me, getting involved with her, helping her escape. Mr. Ojacarcu makes him pay by making him the one who has to drive her to each man she is paid to have sex with. He thinks Connor is in love with this woman.”

“He’s not, is he?” she asked, not sure how Petre would know, but needing to hear someone else tell her, hoping what she felt was the truth.

“No, not love,” Petre answered. “He feels something for her. Maybe it is love. It is not the love he feels for you. It is more than brother-sister love, but it is not intimate lovers love. It is strange, but it is familiar to me. It is what I felt for Ilinca before I began to truly love her. But unlike me, who had no one else, Connor has you. He loves you. He makes me cover driving for him by claiming I am not his friend if I do not agree to help, just to be with you. As long as you are here, he will never love her in the way he loves you.”

“That’s just great,” she said, and began to cry again. “So if I stay, I could end up dead, my family could end up dead, and Connor could end up dead, killing me before being killed himself?” Petre nodded. “And if I go, he’ll always remember me, but not for long as he will finally fall in love with this Jera woman? And he still might be killed? This is insane. This isn’t a choice.”

“It is difficult, I am sure,” Petre said, giving her hand another squeeze before letting go and leaning back in his chair. “Dana, you must decide if you love him enough to let him go. You are young, he is young. You both will find others. I do not want to see him hurt. You are his lover, and he is my friend. You do not want to hear me say it, but you are my friend and I do not want to see you hurt.”

“I’m supposed to just pack up and leave? Just like that? Quit my job, finish my last semester of college somewhere else?”

Petre stood and walked to the door, exiting without a word. Dana thought he’d left for good, but he returned a minute later with a large padded envelope. He dropped it on the table and pushed it toward her before sitting down again.

“What is it?” she asked.

“Open it,” he said.

Dana dumped the contents of the envelope on the table. Six stacks of one hundred dollar bills settled into an uneven pile.

“Oh my God,” she whispered, looking up at Petre.

“There is sixty thousand dollars. I am giving it to you, so you may leave and start a new life. It will help replace anything you have to leave, and it will pay for your school.”