The Killer’s New Obsession by B.B. Hamel
Irene
Ihad to get out of that apartment before I did something stupid, like jump his bones while he was in the shower, or walk out into the living room naked and beg for him to touch me.
So that morning, after he left to meet up with his guys to do whatever the hell gangsters did all day, probably drink whiskey and talk in really deep voices and get in fistfights with each other, I headed downstairs, called an Uber, and had it take me out to Don Valentino’s house.
It was probably stupid. Bea’s offer was probably empty, but it was the only safe place I knew, and I really wanted to get away from Cam and everything that reminded me of him. The Uber dropped me off and sped away, and I walked up those stairs to the big door and hesitated before ringing the bell.
If Bea was surprised to see me, she didn’t let it show. “I’m so happy you took me up on my offer,” she said. “Come inside. Want some tea?”
“Please,” I said, following her along that dark and opulent hallway and into the kitchen. Several men worked chopping and preparing a meal.
“Don’t mind them,” Bea said. “Chef Jorge’s a kitten in a lion’s body.”
“All I heard was I’m a lion,” a man in black and white striped pants and a white jacket said, brandishing a big knife.
Bea set the kettle to boil. “To what do I owe the pleasure?” she asked.
I hesitated, not sure what to tell her. I could say that I was trying to escape Cam’s place because all I kept thinking about was how badly I wanted to sleep with him, but I knew the cooks would only make some joke about that, and besides, I didn’t know Bea well enough yet to say anything. Then again, she worked for the mafia, so she’d probably seen and heard some pretty crazy things in her time.
“Just wanted to get away from the apartment for a little while and I didn’t think anywhere else was safe,” I said, which was truth enough.
“You made the right choice then,” Bea said, beaming, but before she could say more, an intercom on the wall buzzed. She frowned at it and struggled to her feet. “Sorry, dear, but the Don’s calling,” she said.
My eyes went wide. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t know he was home,” I said.
“Don’t worry, he has a lunch meeting.” She gestured vaguely toward Chef Jorge. “Feel free to wait here and pour the tea for yourself, or head down to the pool if you like. It’s a nice day out.”
“Thanks,” I said, cheeks red. I felt really awkward and like I was imposing.
“Honestly, go make yourself at home,” she said, waving a hand. “It’s a big house and someone might as well use it.” She left with a smile and disappeared from the kitchen.
I waited for the water to boil, poured myself some in a mug, and dipped in the teabag. I got out of that kitchen before Chef Jorge or the other young cooks could draw me into a conversation and slipped down a short hall that ended in an enormous living room. The floor was covered in rich, heavy, expensive rugs, and the walls were covered in paintings and photographs. A life-size set of real plate armor stood in a corner, and enormous fern plants dotted the space, like it was some rich man’s idea of the jungle. I hurried through it and to the back door then marched down to the pool.
Bea was right, it was gorgeous outside. An inflatable giraffe floated on the water as I took a chair beneath a big umbrella. The shade was perfect, and the water made tiny waves every time the breeze came through. I sipped the tea and stared across the grounds at the sea of grass, how it was perfectly manicured and rolled down to the forest beyond, and I felt like I was the last person on Earth and utterly alone.
Which wasn’t true, of course. The house had a bunch of mafia guys inside it, but I could pretend anyway.
At least I wasn’t in Cam’s apartment. I stretched my legs and leaned my head back, resting my tea in my lap. It was warm, in contrast to the cool breeze, and I smelled lilies and pollen on the air. Somehow it reminded me of Cam, even if it had nothing to do with him—his strong arms, his full lips, and body taking mine, again and again, making me sweat, making me—
I sighed and rubbed my face. I came out here to get away from him, not to sit around daydreaming about getting fucked by him.
The pool, the lounge chair, the grounds, it was like an entirely different world. For the last two years, I lived on concrete, in broken houses with missing windows and partial walls, where the elements were a constant problem, and keeping warm in the winter was a constant worry. I lived near trash fires with men that hadn’t seen a warm meal in months, if not years, where screams at night were common, where bodies appeared then went away again. I knew what it felt like to be so hungry my head felt disconnected from my body and so scared that I couldn’t move a single muscle.
It was strange, how places like this could exist, with so much space and comfort, while a half hour away in the city, people struggled to find enough blankets to keep from freezing to death in January. This house could’ve kept a hundred people warm or more during those months and saved the lives of half the homeless population in the entire city, and yet none of it mattered, this place was another world.
The back door opened suddenly and I opened my eyes. The mug of tea was on the ground, the tea itself spilled in a long pool. I coughed once and realized I was drooling. I wiped it away with my sleeve quickly as Don Valentino walked down the grass shading his eyes toward me. I looked up at the sky and realized I must’ve fallen asleep, possibly for hours.
He stood and looked at me for a full five seconds before he sat down on the lounger next to me. I blinked rapidly, trying to get myself together. I hadn’t meant to fall asleep, but I’d been on edge and exhausted ever since I was nearly killed by Ronan.
“Bea told me you were out here,” he said, not looking at me. “You know, I have no clue who put that giraffe thing in the pool.”
“Oh,” I said, and then, “I can head back into the city if I’m bothering you, Don Valentino.”
“No, no, stay,” he said. “And call me Dean, please.” He closed his eyes and sighed slowly. “I get that Don Valentino shit all day long. I almost forget what my own name is. Of course, my wife Mags reminds me.”
“You’re married?” I asked.
He laughed softly. “I’m married,” he said. “Started out as a political thing, but you know how life goes.” He glanced at me, squinting a little. “How’s Cam doing?”
“Fine,” I said. “I’m not sure. I haven’t seen him yet today.”
“I hear you had some problems.”
I shrugged a little. “Nothing he can’t handle,” I said, not wanting to go into that whole thing, not without Cam here to lead things. I didn’t know what he wanted me to say and what I should avoid, so I chose to skip the topic entirely.
“That’s true,” Dean said and gazed out at the water again. “He’s one of my more promising soldiers. Hell, I should make him a Capo already, for all he’s done.”
“I didn’t want him to join the family,” I said, the words coming out before I could stop them. I didn’t know what the hell I was thinking, blurting that out, but Dean only laughed.
“Why not?” he asked.
“I thought he’d get killed.”
He touched his cheek. “It’s entirely possible,” he said. “It happens. Not as often as you might think, but it happens.”
“I wanted him to stay with me,” I said, looking down at my hands. “We knew each other growing up.”
“I understand there’s a complicated story there.”
“Not exactly,” I said, not looking at him. “I had shitty parents. He had shitty parents. We hated them. End of story.”
He laughed again and I smiled at him. Outside of his office, away from the trappings of the Don, he seemed like a regular guy. He was big and handsome, and his suit probably cost more money than I’d seen in the last two years, but I liked his laugh and his smile seemed genuine. And I liked that he asked me to call him Dean.
“You’d be surprised how many people in the mafia have that same story,” he said. “You don’t turn to this life if you had a normal upbringing.”
“What about you?” I asked. “You probably had it pretty good out here.”
“You’d think,” he said, but didn’t elaborate.
We sat in silence for a few minutes. I didn’t know what he wanted from me, but as I relaxed back into the chair, I got the sense that he only wanted to come outside and get a break from whatever was happening in the house. He had some kind of lunch meeting, and maybe more meetings after that, and I could imagine it was exhausting and stressful running a powerful crime family.
“Can I ask you something?” I said suddenly.
He made an uncertain gesture with his hands. “Depends. No family secrets.”
“No,” I said. “Just something about Cam.”
“Go ahead,” he said.
“Does he matter to you?”
The question surprised him. His eyes went wide and he tilted his head, lips pulling down into a frown as he shifted to face me. “I’m not sure what you mean,” he said.
“Cam’s life, does it matter to you? Would you throw him way if it benefitted you or the family?”
He took a deep breath and slowly let it out. His confusion turned to a strange, uncertain darkness, his eyes narrowed and his lips pressed flat.
“I’ll be honest with you, since it took some guts to ask me that,” he said. “Yes, his life matters to me, but I’d sacrifice any of my men for the good of the family. But I’d fight like hell before putting myself in that position first.”
I nodded slowly. “Okay then,” I said. “I believe you.”
“Good,” he said, sitting back again. “Not that I give a damn whether you do or not.”
I laughed a little and he grinned but didn’t look at me.
“I think you should make him Capo,” I said, feeling bold. “He’s a good man and he deserves it. I know he’ll work hard for you.”
“I thought you didn’t want him joining my family.”
“He already did.” I dug my fingers into my thigh then relaxed them again. There was nothing I could do about Cam anymore, and it was time to accept that this was what he wanted. I couldn’t change him, and if I was going to be around him, I had to accept what he’d become.
Just like he had to accept what I was.
“I’m considering it,” Dean said.
“Cam’s a good person. He’s smart, he’s strong. I think you should give him whatever promotion you can.”
He laughed and swung his legs off the lounger. “You’re an odd one, you know that?” he said. “I’ll tell you what. If Cam kills Ronan, then I’ll give him control of a big piece of territory. I’ll make him a Capo, and hell, you can be his lieutenant if you want. Or his wife, depending on how things are going.” He cocked his head and smirked. “You are sleeping with him, aren’t you?”
My cheeks turned bright pink. “None of your business,” I said harshly.
He stood up, still grinning big. “You’re right, it’s not,” he said. “But you should be sleeping with him. That man’s a catch, and you’re, what, some street girl from his past?”
I let out a sharp breath through my nose. “Here I was starting to think you were nice.”
He lingered at the edge of the pool and looked back at me. “Don’t mistake me,” he said. “I’m not a nice man, but I can be a fair one. And you are a street girl, whether you like that or not. Cam’s good for you. I think it’s time to let go of whatever you’re holding on to.”
“You don’t know me,” I said. “You have no clue what I’m holding on to.”
He shrugged and made a gesture as if to say, none of that matters.
“Good luck,” he said as he headed back to the house. “Tell Cam what I said. Get Ronan, get rich.”
I watched the Don go and clenched my fists. That had almost been a pleasant conversation, at least until the end.
He was right and I hated him for it. Cam was good for me—even if I still harbored a grudge for what had happened, I knew that a big piece of that was my own fault.
It was my stubborn pride that made me turn my back on him when he chose to join the family.
But it was hard to give that piece of me up. It was hard to forget all that time spent on the street, wondering where my next meal was coming from, and carrying that anger deep inside, that simmering hate. I learned to steal and to survive, but I never let go of my grudge, at least until Cam showed back up in my life with a flash, bringing death with him.
I wanted him to succeed, and I wanted Ronan dead.
Maybe it didn’t matter what I felt. I could help Cam and sort out the rest later.
