The Mafia Killer’s Wife by Rosa Milano

Nineteen

Amanda

Ifurrow my brow, but I still can't work it out.

He answers for me. "I brought you home from the nightclub. I saw your bedroom then. Use the power of deduction whenever you're thinking, Amanda. It might just save your life some day."

"But that's just my room. You didn't see the rest of the house."

"I deduced. Your father works for a bookmaker. He has no interest in fiction. The books in your room were all old. They belonged to your mother. At some point she worked with animals or wanted to. What happened?"

"She married my dad. He soon put a stop to her dreams same as he did with mine."

"That explains why she drinks, but what about you? Why not follow your dream?"

"Because not all of us are in charge of our own lives, genius."

"You went to the nightclub without permission, correct?"

"Yeah, so what?"

"So you can choose when to disobey your father. Why not take a job with animals? Do something you want to do."

"You don't know me. Don't pretend you know me."

"Simple enough question. Scared you won't like it?"

"I tried," I snap back at him. "All right. When I was sixteen and fresh out of school I went to some animal shelters and tried to volunteer, but they'd all heard of my father. They'd been told not to hire me."

"So you gave up at the first hurdle?"

"What else was I supposed to do?"

"Be yourself, Amanda. Be who you're meant to be. You are stronger, smarter, and braver than you think you are."

"You don't know the first thing about me."

"I know enough."

I turn the radio on to drown him out. He looks down as if he's going to switch it off but then he turns his head back to the road. I tune into a golden oldies station, listening to the tunes that have always helped me drown out too many thoughts.

I close my eyes, listening to the music. "Where are we going?" I ask him, getting a horrible feeling he's taking me somewhere to kill me.

"I have a place in the country," he replies. "A place no one knows about but me."

"And why are we going there again?"

"You tell me. Use that brain of yours."

"You're a fan of ivy? Get hard looking at squirrels."

"How did you guess?" His face remains cold and empty, but I think he just made a joke. I have to resist smiling. I didn't think he was capable of them. "Why don't I want to take you to my city place?" he tries again.

"Because you like fucking with me?"

"I know what you did already, Mandy. I just want you to admit it."

"I haven't done anything."

"You want to act that way, fine. I'll get the truth out of you sooner or later."

The rest of the journey he doesn't say a word. I don't know how long we're driving for but I know I fall asleep at some point. The music combines with the rumble of the asphalt under the tires to send me drifting off.

I'm jolted awake when we come to a stop. I look out the windows, but it's pitch black out there. I can't see a thing. "Where are we?" I ask, stretching my arms out in front of me.

"Come and see," he replies, turning off the engine. He steps out and the car visibly lifts upward. Just how heavy is he?

I get out too. He's already collected my case from the trunk. "This way," he says, walking off into the darkness.

I was never a fan of the dark. I scurry after him, not wanting to be left on my own. The wind is blowing through trees nearby. The rustling is the only sound. I look down. We're on grass. Wherever we are, it's far from life. I can't see a single light anywhere. It's quiet enough for me to hear the car engine ticking over as it cools.

There's a rattle in front of me, and then I hear a key turning in a lock. A beep starts to sound, but it's silenced almost at once. There's a push button panel on the wall inside the door. The red glow from it lights up Ethan's face, making him look even more like a demon as he punches in numbers. "You need an alarm out here in the country?" I ask as I follow him inside. "Lots of housebreaking, is there?"

He doesn't reply. He flicks a switch and I'm blinded by the lights coming on. I look around me when my vision returns and he's gone on ahead. I'm in a hallway made of wood panels. I look into the nearest room. A lounge like something Grizzly Adams would live in. Mounted heads on the wall above the fireplace. Windows shuttered. Fireplace filled with wood and kindling ready to go, leather armchairs and sofas, bookcases filled with volumes. A desk over in the corner with a typewriter on it. "Nice place," I call out, but I get no response.

I go hunting for him. All I find are corridors that go off in different directions. How big is this place?

I walk into the first room with an open door. I find Ethan filling a kettle in a well-equipped kitchen. "Coffee?" he asks.

"What time is it?"

"About two in the morning."

"I'll skip the coffee then."

"Suit yourself."

"Got anything stronger in those cupboards of yours?"

"Have a look."

I start opening doors. It takes a couple of attempts, but eventually I find a liquor cabinet. I pull out a bottle of expensive looking whiskey. "Got a glass?"

"Here." He slides one across to me.

"You not joining me?" I pour out a generous measure and down it. "Not going to try and stop me? I'm too young to drink, right?"

He shrugs. "You want to drink, you drink. You'll regret it in the morning though."

"Like you give a shit." The whiskey is already burning a hole in my stomach. I pour some more and then I relax. I add another splash to my glass.

He makes himself a coffee and then walks out of the room. I follow him and find him setting light to the fire in the hearth. "Soon get warm," he says, taking the nearest armchair. "Sit down. We need to talk."