The Woman in the Back Room by Jessica Gadziala
Chapter Nine
Santi
We'd dealt with the whole shower scene the same way we'd dealt with the kiss.
Meaning not at all.
Avoidance wasn't my communication style, but in this situation, I wasn't sure how else things could be dealt with, and Alessa could continue to take care of Avi.
I couldn't exactly keep her on if we both admitted aloud that we had inappropriate thoughts about one another.
Sure, we both knew it without a shadow of a doubt now, but not actually saying the words made me feel justified in not going to my brother and explaining the whole situation.
Besides, after that night, nothing else had happened.
The first couple of days, we'd both given each other a wide berth when we crossed paths, always having Avi around as a buffer, only discussing things pertinent to his care.
After that, we'd fallen back into usual rhythms, even sharing a little conversation over morning coffee or after Avi passed out for the night.
I couldn't speak for her, but the time spent around her only made the situation more difficult for me.
It was fine to be attracted to her. She was beautiful. It was natural.
But to genuinely like her? Yeah, that shit was problematic at best.
I mean, for all I knew, all she saw when she looked at me as someone she wanted to fuck. It might have been purely biological.
"This office is not what I expected," Brio said, pacing around my space, picking up random items, tossing them up in the air, then putting them back in the wrong places. "Milo said you were rolling in it."
"And?" I asked.
"And this place looks like the office of some middle manager of a small tire company," Brio declared.
"Nice visual," I said, flipping through a pile of files on my desk.
"Your place looks like it's out of a design magazine, and you work like this?"
"Brit designed the apartment," I explained.
"And a blind five-year-old designed this place?" Brio asked, sitting up on a credenza I was pretty sure wasn't meant to hold that kind of weight.
"The furniture was here when I bought it," I told him, shrugging.
I'd been hardly more than a kid at the time, using a loan I'd gotten from the bank at a back-breaking interest rate, and dead-set on getting something going for myself, for my wife, for my kid. I didn't want to work for my father. And I didn't want to take my brother's pity money when he'd offered it.
I wanted to prove myself.
I wanted to give my family the life they deserved.
The business grew around my office. The main offices were professionally designed, had all the high-end shit.
"I keep it like this to remind me how far I've come," I told Brio, shrugging.
"Roots and shit. Get that."
"What's your place like?" I asked, smirking at him. "People hanging from meat hooks in the kitchen?"
"Don't be ridiculous. That would be unsanitary," he said, smiling big. "If I gotta string people up, I do it in the bathroom. Like a decent human being."
"Got anyone strung up right now?"
"Nah, man. Got someone on ice, though."
"I don't think I want to know what that means."
"Well, you know liquid nitrogen?" he asked.
"Yeah."
"Funny. You wouldn't think something so cold burns. Big old fucking blisters. Hurts like a mother fucker too."
"Yeah, really didn't need to know that," I said, shaking my head.
"Eh, when we find the fuckers who killed your wife, figure you might want some ideas. I mean, you can't go wrong with the classics," he said, pulling a knife out of his pocket to start cleaning under his nails.
"I want them dead," I said, shrugging.
"Dead is good. Pissing themselves while you slice off fingers is better. But, hey, to each his own," Brio said, waving his arms out. "You about ready to bounce, or no?" he asked.
For who knew what reason, my brother wanted me to join Brio, acting like a bagman, collecting the big—the interest owed to us from a loan. It was a job beneath the brother of the boss of all bosses. But that said, I hadn't been in the job since the jump like the others were. I had to make my bones. I had to have my face on the streets, so people got used to seeing me, respecting me.
I wanted to be part of the Family. Even if it meant accompanying Brio's psycho ass on street work. But as we started making the rounds, I couldn't help but have my mind wander to Bryant Park instead, where Alessa was taking Avi ice skating.
It wasn't like I hadn't taken my son ice skating before.
Well, I'd gone.
And watched.
I knew my kid would never let me live it down if I fell on my ass on the ice, so I went ahead and let him and his mom have the fun while I took the pictures like I'd been instructed.
Alessa had dragged her feet. I imagine for the same reasons I had. She didn't want to make a fool of herself on the ice. But in the end, Avi had been persuasive. Well, no, he'd been annoying as hell, and Alessa had given in just to make him shut up about it.
But I wanted to be there.
I wanted to see Avi be cocky about his skills, skating circles around Alessa. And I wanted to see Alessa struggle to keep herself upright. I wanted to see Avi try to help her learn. I wanted to see the two of them laughing and smiling together.
But instead I was walking into the dank back room of some fucking pawnshop with its smarmy owner who'd been looking down the shirt of one of his customers who was trying to hock her engagement ring when we'd walked in.
"This looks short," Brio said, taking the folded stack of money from the man.
"What can I say? Business hasn't been so great, man. You know I'm good for it."
"I know you fuck me over every month, expecting special treatment when everyone else gets their shit squared up without an issue," Brio said, walking around the wire rack lined walls, picking up random items he found, then putting them back.
"Look," the owner said, voice getting tight, likely knowing Brio was the kind of man who went from cordial to homicidal in a blink. "Just take something out there," he offered, waving toward the front of the shop.
There'd been some decent shit out there, depending on how much he owed.
"Nah, man, see, that ain't how it works. You know that. You're not stupid. So, the only rational explanation for you making that offer is that you think that I'm stupid," Brio said, picking up what looked like a hand-carved miniature totem pole.
"No no! No!" the owner insisted, hands going up. "No, I don't think you're stupid. I figured you had, you know, a good heart."
"See, now, that's where you're wrong," Brio said, flipping the figurine in his hand to hold the top, then slamming the wide circular base into the side of the shop owner's head.
The crack sent adrenaline shooting through my system.
"Ow! Fuck. I'll get the money!" he insisted, grabbing the side of his head. "No!" he yelped as Brio faked him out with another swing.
"Now, man," Brio said, voice as calm as if they were having a casual conversation. "I need that money now."
"I need another day, two tops," the owner said, rubbing his head.
"Naw, man, that ain't good enough," Brio said. This time, when he swung, he made contact with the man's jaw.
"Okay, okay!" the owner cried after he recovered. "I'll get the money."
"When?" Brio asked, flipping the totem pole again, inspecting the faces carved into it.
"Now! I'll get it now!" the owner said, voice desperate.
"Really?" Brio asked, pressing the totem to his chest. "I wasn't expecting such prompt payment," he said, sounding shocked even though he'd been the one to beat the agreement out of the man. "Go on and get it then. We'll wait," he said, tucking the totem pole into his back pocket without comment.
"Yeah, I'm going. I'm getting it," the owner said, wiping tears off his cheeks as he rushed past me into the front of the store.
We followed behind, watching as he went into his cash drawer to get the rest of the money.
"Hey, good man," Brio said, tucking the money away. "Enjoy the week of ramen," he added. "Hot sauce really makes it tolerable," he added, giving me a nod toward the door.
We were just making our way out of the door when my phone started to ring.
Alessa.
Probably keeping me updated on their comings and goings.
"Take it," Brio said, shrugging when I hesitated.
"What's up, Ale—"
"Two men. Six-two, five-nine. Jeans. Black puff jackets. Facial hair—tall one, goatee, short one, chin strap. Fuck. I..."
"Alessa?" I called, hearing an edge of panic in my voice. I didn't like her words, or the tight tone she was using to say them. "What happened? Alessa!" I called when all I heard was a couple of sharp hisses. "Alessa, answer me," I demanded, yelling, and I didn't care who looked sideways at me.
"Dad?" Avi's voice said, sounding choked.
"Avi, thank God. What's going on? What happened? Are you okay?"
"Dad? Someone needs to help Less," he cried.
"What happened to Less? Is she okay?"
"She's bleeding," Avi said, sniffling hard.
"Where is she bleeding?" I asked, feeling Brio clap me on the shoulder, then wave toward his car.
"Have this talk on the way, man," he said, moving around the hood to climb into the driver's seat.
"Avi, talk to me. Where is she bleeding?"
"Her shoulder. She's bleeding a lot," he cried. "She got shot."
"Okay. Alright. It's going to be okay, bud," I assured him, not knowing if it was, but needing him to think that. "Is Alessa awake? Can she talk?"
"She's awake," he said.
"Did somebody call the police?" I pressed.
It seemed like Alessa's first call had been to me, relaying the information on the men who'd shot her.
"I don't know. I don't..."
"Shots out in the open at a skating rink," Brio said. "Someone called."
He was right.
My head was spinning.
"Where are you, bud?"
"Under her."
"Under Alessa?" I clarified.
"She jumped on me," he said, making my heart squeeze in my chest.
She'd jumped on Avi.
She'd taken a bullet for him.
"Okay. Are you hurt, bud?"
"I hit my head."
"Okay. Are you bleeding?"
"I don't think so."
"Okay. Alright. Bud, I am like... ten minutes away, okay?" Especially with the way Brio was whipping in and out of traffic. "But if the ambulance comes before I do, you can go with Alessa, okay? I will meet you at the hospital."
"Okay."
"Can I talk to Alessa, bud?"
"I'll try," Avi said.
I heard rough breathing.
"Alessa?" I asked, voice sounding choked, airless.
"Yeah."
"Avi said you're hit in the shoulder?" I asked.
"Yeah. He's okay."
"I know he is. Thank you, babe. For protecting him."
"I..." she started, but her voice trailed off as others joined, sounding far away.
"They're here, Dad," Avi said. "They're looking... oh. No. No," Avi cried.
"Av, what?"
"She's bleeding somewhere else," he said, crying again, a little more hysterical than before.
"Where, bud?"
"Her hip."
Hip and shoulder.
Those were two of the safer locations to be hit.
"Okay. She's going to be okay, bud. The doctors are going to fix her right up."
"And she can come home?" Avi asked. "With us?" he clarified.
"Of course she can, bud."
"We can take care of her," he insisted, sniffling hard. "I'll make her tea."
"Absolutely we can," I agreed.
"Dad, I have to go with Less now," he said. "No! I'm going with her!" he shrieked at whoever was trying to tell him no. "I'm going," he said again, this time to me.
"Okay. Good. Good for standing up for yourself," I added. "You won't be able to hear me in the ambulance, bud. So you're going to need to hang up. But I will be there as soon as I can. Can you ask the paramedic where they're taking you?"
"They said Mount Sign High."
"Mount Sinai, okay."
"Eight minutes," Brio said.
"Eight minutes, bud. I will be getting there right after you do."
"Okay."
"She's going to be okay," I said again before hanging up.
My head slammed back against the headrest as I let out a deep breath, one I felt like I'd been holding the whole phone call.
"Tell me, so I can tell your brother," Brio demanded.
I rattled off the descriptions Alessa had given me, then listened as Brio recounted them to Lorenzo as he wove through traffic.
"Go on, check on your people," Brio said, double parking on the street near the hospital. "Your brother is sending some guards," he added.
"Okay. Thanks, man," I said, nodding, then climbing out.
"Avi!" I called when I made my way into the emergency room, finding him sitting on a gurney in the hall, holding an icepack to the back of his head.
He was covered in blood.
Alessa's blood.
"Dad," Avi said. As soon as his gaze fell on me, his eyes welled up, his body folded forward, and he started loud, hiccuping crying.
"Hey, hey, it's alright," I said, pulling him against my chest. "You're okay."
"Less..." he cried.
"Less is getting taken care of, bud."
"She can't die."
"She's not going to."
"You don't know that."
"You know what I know? Getting hurt in the shoulder and hip hurts and might require some surgery, but she's going to be just fine."
"Yeah?"
"Absolutely. Is your head okay?"
"I have a headache."
"We're going to do CT scan just to make sure he doesn't have a concussion," the nurse said, moving in at my side.
"Uncle Milo," Avi said, half raising his hand to my side where Emilio was walking in, making a beeline for us.
"Heya, man. How's the noggin?" he asked, giving Avi's shoulder a squeeze.
"Bud, can I leave you with Uncle Milo for a minute, so I can check on Alessa?" I asked.
"Yeah," Avi said, trying to be brave.
"Your Nonna is on her way too," Emilio said, giving me a nod.
"Five minutes, bud," I said, giving his leg a squeeze before moving away.
"Alessa Morelli," I said as I made it to the nurse's station. "She came in with two gunshot wounds," I clarified. "Is she okay?"
"Are you family?" she asked.
"No, but I am," a voice said, coming in at my side. Gio Morelli. "That's my sister," he added, giving me a tight nod.
"Okay. She's in with the doctor now. I will have an update for you in just a minute," the nurse said.
Gio and I moved back a step, out of earshot.
"Avi said she was hit in the shoulder and hip," I told him.
"If you gotta be hit, those aren't bad places," Gio said, voice tight.
"Yeah, I'm sorry she got hit, though," I said, meaning it more than he could know.
"That's the job," he said.
"Still," I said.
"Your kid. He okay?"
"Yeah. He needs a scan of his head. Whacked it off the ground when your sister jumped on him to shield him."
"She's a good egg, that one," Gio said, then moved forward to talk to the doctor as he came out.
She needed surgery.
Which meant I needed to wait.
All the while trying to tell myself the burning hole in my stomach was benign, just an employer concerned for the health of his employee.
The problem was, it was getting harder and harder simply to think of her as that.