Mobster's Bones (Mobster #5) (5 page)

It takes me a few minutes to grasp where I am when my eyes snap open. A musky cologne wafts to my nose from the pillow I am on. I like it; it’s masculine and fresh. I rub my hands over my face, feeling my mascara smudge from my eyelashes onto my skin in little clumps. I gaze around lazily at my surroundings. It’s dark in the room; a light is on by the desk. I hear the toilet flush and a minute or two later the door opens and Troy emerges.

“Sorry.”

He looks at me. “You’re awake.”

He didn’t hear my mumbled sorry so I say it again.

“Sorry.”

He’s perplexed.

“Sorry for what?”

“For screwing up your day.”

“It’s no problem.”

Troy walks to the bed and stands at the foot. He appears uncomfortable in his own space.

“And thanks for telling me I’m okay. Instead of asking me if I am.” Troy is totally confused and I don’t have the energy to explain it. So I change the subject. “What have you been doing all day?” I ask through a yawn.

“Studying,” he says as he moves to sit down at his desk. His computer casts a blue glow mixed with the white light from his desk lamp. “I ordered a pizza. It will be here soon.”

“I don’t have to stay here, you know. I could go to a hotel.”

“It’s not a problem. Mi casa, su casa.”

His voice gives away an unreadable half-hearted sentiment. I feel even worse for putting him out. I sit up and reach for my luggage, dragging it over to me.

“No, I can find a place to hole up until this mess is over.”

“No, you need to stay right here.”

“Don’t worry about Vito. I can handle him.”

“It’s not about Vito. If you’re in trouble, I want to help.”

Emotions in a completely raw state filter through me, making blurring pools in my eyes. I appreciate it more than he could ever know or I could even verbalize. This nightmare is a labyrinth I can’t find my way out of and the Minotaur is some fuckin’ crazy person.

“Troy!” A stiff knock on the door. “Dude, are you in there?” I recognize the voice, Troy’s friend Jake. I’ve met him before. Troy opens the door.

Jake’s a good-looking guy. He’s muscular in a slimming way, not bulky. His face brightens when he see me.

“Hey, Alessandra! What are you doing here?”

Troy answers for me. “She is visiting for a while.”

Jake’s brows furrow before he has a revelation. He has a goofy smirk on his face when he elbows Troy in the ribs. “Nice,” he whispers.

“No, she’s just visiting.” Troy isn’t convincing.

“How come you didn’t tell me you had something going on with her? After all this time, wow, you’re good.”

“No, seriously.” Troy defends himself and me. “Alessandra needed to get away for a while.

“Oh.” Jake drags the word out. “Family stuff?” He makes sure to use exaggerated air quotes.

“Sort of,” Troy responds, but he truly doesn’t know why I’m here.

“Well, take her tonight.”

“Huh.”

“It’s another kegger at the frat house.”

“On a Sunday night?” I comment.

“She’s not up for it.”

That shit pisses me off. How does Troy know how I feel or what I want to do?

“Can you stop speaking for me? I’m fine.”

Troy blinks at me, in shock at my outburst. “What time?”

“It’s going on all night. So whenever you’re ready.”

Troy shoots an annoyed look at Jake for encouraging me to go to the party.

“I’d like to shower first. Can you come back in an hour?” I ask.

“Sure. I’ll be back.”

Troy shuts the door and turns to me. I rifle through my bag looking for something decent to wear.

“Um. Don’t you think we should talk?”

“About what?” I inquire as I yank a black shirt out of my luggage.

“About why you’re here. About what’s happened. Do you need some time?”

“I’m fine.” I pile my clothes on my arm and go into the bathroom. “Don’t worry about me,” I add and shut the door.

I spend the entire hour in the bathroom taming my unruly brown hair and applying my makeup to try to conceal the bags under my eyes and the haunting despair in them. Troy and Jake are talking in hushed voices. I’m as ready as I’ll ever be so I come out of the bathroom. Troy tries to hide it but I can tell he’s impressed with the way I look. I walk over to the bed and slip my heels on.

“Wow!” Jake comments.

“It’s a shirt and jeans,” I deadpan.

“It must be the way you fill it out then. Watch out, the guys at the frat house have no filter and loose hands.”

“I think I can handle it.” I shrug my shoulders, not caring, because I am so numb that I really don’t feel like doing anything. A party, eating, or even sleeping right now would be an effort.

Troy pulls the car up to the curb and parks a few buildings away from the commotion. The front lawn is alive with cheering and teeming with people.

“What’s going on?” I ask, interested to know what these shirtless guys are running around for.

“The Gauntlet. It’s a drinking game,” Troy shares, shutting off the car.

“Looks like I’m late,” Jake mutters, popping out of the backseat. “See you inside.” He jogs up to the crowd. It’s rowdy, and different partiers slap Jake on the back or shake his hand. Jake must be pretty popular.

“Are you ready?” Troy asks.

I nod and open my door. He escorts me to the grassy area with a backdrop of the frat house. We melt into a group of guys and girls. It’s overwhelming and the music is blaring. There are so many people close together. People I don’t know. Everything is new to me.

Someone yells, “Go!” Through the bodies of bystanders, I see two guys racing and stopping short by a line of girls with beers.

“What are they doing?”

“They have to chug five beers.” Troy points. “Wrestle those guys over there, and if they win they have to fight the last man standing for the last run for the little Irish flag over there.”

I strain over the heads in front of me to see.

“Interesting,” I comment, really trying to get a good look.

“Whoa! Where have you been hiding this piece of ass, O’Connell?”

Behind us, a guy is stumbling and his eyes are glazed from intoxication.

I spin, shooting daggers at him, and spew, “Wherever you can’t find me, dick!”

“Oh, dude, she’s sassy and beautiful...”

“Kurt, why don’t you grab yourself a drink in the house?”

“Why don’t you go up there and hand out drinks when it’s my turn?” He takes a deliberate step toward me and drags his eyes up and down my figure. The little hairs on the back of my neck rise but I don’t let that deter me from letting this jerk have it.

“Do I look like a fuckin’ waitress to you, asshole?” I sneer. “The only way you’re getting a drink from me is when I throw it in your face.”

Troy gently slips his fingers under my forearm, nudging me to walk away.

“Chooch,” I mumble, sick of this guy’s shit already and I don’t even know him.

“Why don’t we go watch Jake?” Troy suggests, trying really hard to keep the peace.

But Kurt’s next sentence makes Troy’s fingers and body go rigid. I don’t know him too well so I’m not really sure how to read him.

“Wow! Troy, you have a serious bitch on your hands,” Kurt slurs.

Troy’s fist snaps out and clocks Kurt right in the jaw. No one notices the drunken guy thump to the ground, which is ridiculous because there are so many people around us. Everyone is too busy watching and hollering at the players in the Gauntlet. My mouth opens in shock. I grab Troy’s arm and pull him along toward where Jake is arm wrestling, leaving Kurt sprawled out in the grass unconscious.

“Nice,” I applaud as we mix into the crowd. “Smooth follow-through, your opponent went down fluidly. Have you been taking lessons from Vito?”

“Funny,” he deadpans. “Chooch? Vito and Antonio have called me that, what does it mean?”

“Jackass.”

A genuine smile spreads across my face. Troy pulls me close so that we are practically chest to chest. My heart races in surprise. He stares into my eyes, and then raises his hand to my waist and tickles.

“You better not call me a chooch,” he threatens.

“Never.” I laugh and try to slip out of his arms, to get him to stop. I am laughing so hard, I am losing my breath. He lets me go and we part. My skin tingles from his touch and I am left wanting it back. Our gazes lock and I notice how deep blue his eyes are. It reminds me of the first time I saw him. The butterflies he awakens in me feel good and feelings that are two years old flood back in a tidal wave.

Something passed between San and me back then. It was there; I felt it. I thrust it down, though, because I thought there was more to my relationship with Megan, something deeper than friendship. But it was one-sided. I’m mad at myself for being so blind. I’m happy for Megan. I definitely want her to be happy, but I’ve never let her know how deeply it cut me. I had plans: finish school and marry Megan. I had my whole life laid out and it spiraled out of control as soon as Antonio Delisi, Junior came into it. My brother hurt Erin, her sister, and Megan hurt me. It’s a weird cosmic paradox.

This evening, I am at a party with a mob daughter who is under my protection.
Why did Vito pick me?
I didn’t mean to get in bed with the mob, they got in bed with me, and it doesn’t look like I’ll be able to get out and do a walk of shame anytime soon. I was sitting on the fringe of the Mafia world unaware. I’m not mad or upset. It is a surreal experience and one I gladly accept if Alessandra is a part of it.

“What are you thinking about?” Alessandra jerks me from my thoughts.

“Nothing… You know, Vito kicked butt last year doing this.” I motion to the guys sloshing beers down their throats in the Gauntlet, bare-chested and wild.

“Why am I not surprised?”

“In fact, I don’t think he lost. Erin was having an issue, so they left.”

“Vito and Erin are so cute together, it’s actually disgusting to see him swooping her off her feet, dragging her around like a rag doll as she laughs and giggles. It’s pretty nauseating.”

Alessandra shifts her stance as people creep closer, straining to see the action. I can sense her body stiffen as she stands beside me.

“Do you want something to drink?”

She nods. “Yeah, it is getting kind of tight over here.”

I lead Alessandra inside the house. People stop us to say hi, and I introduce Alessandra around. She barely acknowledges anyone packed into the four walls of the house and heads straight for the beer kegs by the kitchen. She grabs a red cup and fills it to the top, carefully holding the cup on an angle for more beer and less foam. Alessandra drinks it down quickly and refills.

“Oh. Sorry.” She stops mid-gulp and asks, “Would you like some?”

“Sure.” I revel at the skill she possesses in filling and drinking with the tap on the top of the keg.

She takes another cup and fills one for me, then finishes off her second beer to refill it for the third time.

“Maybe you should…” I’m cut off by someone yelling.

“O’Connell!”
Kurt!
He’s awake and really pissed. “What the fuck was that?” He is sounding much more sober. “A sucker punch?”

I’m stunned momentarily as Kurt stalks toward us.

“No!” I counter. “You were looking right at me!” I throw as much contempt into my response as possible. “You need to learn some manners!”

“Bros before hos, O’Connell!”

Searing fury creeps up my chest, and I want to fucking punch him again.

Wide-eyed, I stomp forward, reeling, my nostrils flaring.
How dare he call Alessandra a whore!

Fingertips wrap around my arm.

“Don’t. It’s not worth it.” Alessandra’s eyes are glossed over because of the beer she has been consuming too fast. She has filled her cup again by the time Kurt has made it across the room to us. Everyone has stopped their conversations. All eyes are on us.

“You know. I think it is.”

I lunge at Kurt and we fall in a tumble of arms and legs. I haven’t been this angry in a very long time. Hurting him is on the forefront of my mind.

Getting the upper hand, I’m above him. He’s splayed on the ground below me and I let my fist fly, smashing against his nose. Immediately, it bleeds, sending red liquid down into his mouth and all over his neck seeping into his shirt.

“Shit!” he screams. “You broke my fuckin’ nose!”

Movement out of the corner of my eye grabs my attention. Standing above the both of us is Alessandra. Her cup is tipping up to her lips for a drink while her eyes glare down at the two of us. Her expression isn’t surprised or horrified; it’s bored, like she’s seen this kind of thing a million times.

The entire party has encircled us at a very safe distance. My focus returns and I calm down. I peer around because I sense a slew of eyes gawking at me. It’s quiet; even the music is turned off.

I’m one of those guys! I have crossed the line. I have turned into an asshole like Kurt. I am the one stirring the shit, making a scene, making the whole party uncomfortable for everyone. I have done the exact thing that I criticize others for.

“Are you done?” Alessandra is annoyed.

“Troy! What the hell!?” Jake takes hold of my forearm and hauls me up. Kurt’s hands are plastered to his nose where the blood is gushing out. A blond girl I don’t know hands him a tissue.

***

The ride back to the dorm is silent. Jake is pissed at me and Alessandra… she doesn’t seem mad or anything but she has a faraway look in her tipsy eyes. We get off the elevator and Jake goes straight to his room. Alessandra and I go to mine. I can’t take the quiet anymore.

“I’m sorry,” I confess.

I toss my keys in the bowl by the door and check my watch. It has barely been two hours since we left. Alessandra is in my mini-fridge taking out a beer.

“Whoa.” I walk to her. “I think you’ve…” Alessandra’s lips crush mine and the can in her fingers hits the floor. She is all over me. I gently pull her arms away. “Hold on a sec.” She easily slips her arms out of my grasp and wraps them back around my neck. She leans in again kissing me. It’s amazing… but wrong. I unwrap her body from mine. “I think we should call it a night.”

Alessandra’s eyes drift open at my words. A mix of emotion is there—hurt, exhaustion, fear. Her arms fall to her sides, seemingly too heavy for her to hold up anymore. Her eyes close and beneath her lashes little tiny tears drop.

I reach down and scoop her up into my arms, carrying her the short distance to the bed. I lay her down. After removing her high heels, I pull a blanket over her, tucking her into bed. I grab a pillow and blanket from the closet and make my bed on the floor, taking a mental note to go shopping for another twin bed.

*****

English class.

The whole entire room is watching me and my guest. Every guy in the room is staring at Alessandra. We are on display and it is fucking awkward, and for some reason this is irking me.

I choose two seats in the back. Alessandra sits beside me. Carl, a guy I know only from class, turns around in his seat.

“Hi,” he says, trying to sound cool, flashing a smile. “Are you new here?”

That’s his line? Really? He doesn’t have anything better than that?
Dumb-ass!

“Yes,” Alessandra answers quietly.

The teacher enters, Professor Sisal. He always has a ton of books stacked in his arms. He hardly ever even refers to them but has them all the same. He pushes his glasses up on his nose.

“Good morning.”

Good morning is returned in a murmur from the half-awake students on a Monday morning.

“I hope everyone had a great weekend.” The professor sits on the edge of his desk, his tweed jacket pulling at the shoulders. He starts to go over some highlights from the reading when he stops and locks eyes with Alessandra. “Hello. And you are?”

“Alessandra Maranzano.” Her smile is coy. “I’m auditing” slides out of her mouth like butter.

Wow. Good one.
That is a great explanation.

“Welcome.” He smiles back. I breathe a sigh of relief and think one class down—three more to go.

***

The place is dead. It’s eight-thirty on a Monday night and the store is closing in half an hour. We are getting dirty looks from some of the salespeople. Jake, Alessandra, and I are walking up and down aisles that contain a sea of white mattresses.

“Why don’t you get an air mattress?” Jake has a slight whine in his voice.

“We borrowed your friend’s truck. Let’s just get one and get out of here.”

“This is a nice one,” Alessandra notes. She sits down on it.

“If you like it, that is the one we’ll get.”

She lies down, checking it out. Her hair splays out behind her. She rubs her hand across the plush top and I get hard watching her. She is so seductive and attractive without even trying. I elbow Jake in the ribs; he is staring too.
Ass!

“Can I help you?” A salesman comes toward us, smiling down at Alessandra.

I reach my hand out, gesturing for her to take it, and I gently pull her up off the bed. This guy ogling her makes me want to hit him. He stands close to her. Talk about invading someone’s personal bubble.

“We’ll take this one,” I say to him. I slip my hand into Alessandra’s, moving her away a few steps.

“Delivery?”

“No, we’ll take it now.”

Jake pulls the truck behind the building, and we load the mattress into the back. It’s dark with only the lights of the building. We have to do it ourselves. The store isn’t responsible for non-delivered items. So they watch us put it into the truck. Alessandra is in the cab waiting for us.

Over by the edge of the warehouse, I see someone standing in the shadows. Apparently, Jake, Alessandra, and I are the entertainment for the evening at the mattress store. As soon as I have the last of the metal frame in my hand, the salesperson slams the garage door down with a clank. Customer service at its best, I think mockingly.

***

“Dude! Just slide it. It’s rug!”

“I don’t want to mess it up.”

“It’s the side of the mattress. It’ll be fine.” Jake is getting aggravated.

“I’ve got it. Go get the frame,” I direct him, and I slide it through the hallway myself.

I lean it up against the wall outside my room. Alessandra is inside moving furniture around.

She sees me.

“I don’t know where it is going to fit.”

“How about on the same wall with a gap in between them?” I suggest.

Her hands are on her hips, thinking.

“Hmm… Sure. That should work.”

“Help me push it over.”

Together, we shift my bed over as far as it will go, without messing up opening and closing of the door. On the other side, there is enough room for another twin bed.

Jake comes in carrying the metal slats.

“We’re going to set it up there.” I point to the open space.

I help Jake set up the frame and then he helps me set the mattress in place. Alessandra has taken a spare set of sheets from my closet and is putting them on.

“Thanks, Jake. I appreciate the help.”

“Yeah, thanks,” Alessandra adds.

“If you guys push those together the last few inches, you’ll have a king-size bed.”

Alessandra meets my eyes.

“Hey, you guys already knew that!” Jake is teasing us, but he is getting on my nerves.

“Thanks! Now get out!” I joke but Jake gets the message.

“I have to return the truck. See you guys later.”

He leaves, closing the door.

***

“This is my first college football game.” Alessandra is excited. She pulls my Notre Dame jacket she borrowed from me closed against the November chill in the air. Her smile is warm when she looks over at me.

“I’m glad I could be here for your first.”
Holy shit!
That came out wrong. Alessandra gives a little laugh and focuses on the field.

The stadium is jam-packed with football fans. The die-hards have painted their faces and are waving all sorts of flags and posters with the Notre Dame insignia. Alessandra has her arms snug across her middle.

“Are you cold?”

“A little… I’m good.”

“Here.” I reach out my arm and settle myself close, the armrest the only thing between us. I wrap my arm around her.

“Is this better?”

She nods. Behind us, further up into the stands, a group of fraternity guys are chanting.

No-tre Dame!

No-tre Dame!

No-tre Dame!

“Things can get a little crazy,” I mention in her ear.

“I bet.”

The team runs out onto the field and we both get caught up in the moment as the quarterback, Jake, jogs on first. We stand clapping with everyone else.

“He looks great!” Alessandra yells over the cheering as she gazes down at the field. Jake’s arm is raised, hailing the crowd.

“Are you hungry?”
“I could go for a burger,” she says, caught up in the fray.

“I’ll be right back.” I climb the steps up to the concession area, realizing too late that I am leaving her alone. She is in a huge crowd and I will only be gone a few minutes. I turn to look over for a second across the sea of heads to find her to put my mind at ease when someone passes by hitting me hard, slapping their side with mine. It seemed deliberate and not accidental.