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She got up on her knees, put her hands in her lap, and, almost as if it were a secret, said, “I fell in love.”
“You fell in love?” I asked.
“With Levi, the cop.” A broad smile spread across her cheeks, undeterred by my incredulity. A moment later she added, “Oh, and he helped me cover up Giovani’s death.” She didn’t give me a second to ask about that because immediately she followed with, “Frankie, he’s so wonderful. He’s kind and he’s caring and I just feel so much with
him. I never knew I could feel this way before.”
“You’re in love,” I repeated it as if it would help me understand.
“When Giovani had me arrested, he was the one who booked me,” she explained. “He had the brownest eyes, and even under the fluorescent lights, his hair was the most gorgeous shade of brown. They called him Red Bear, Bear for short, because they’re racist jerks—his mom is Native American—but his name is really Levi. Levi Luchessi. He followed me home and after that…” She kept going on and on, hardly taking a breath. I watched her face change as she told me different parts of the story, going from sadness, to pure bliss, to anger, and back again to bliss. I wasn’t sure what to say. She looked like a girl in high school talking about a crush, not a person describing the man who helped cover up the murder of her husband.
Was it even my place to question? This was the only happiness Gabby had ever known. I wasn’t really the one to judge, anyway. I wasn’t exactly the poster girl for healthy emotions. Maybe they were in love. He’d helped her cover up the murder, after all. If that wasn’t true love, then what was?
“Isn’t he dirty?” The thought popped into my head and out of my mouth. Gabby had been booked at the 72nd precinct, which was the dirtiest, most rotten precinct in New York.
“Clean as a whistle.” Gabby paused. “Except for the whole murder cover-up. He’s undercover,” she explained. “He’s trying to take down the 72nd and the Pavonis.”
“Huh.” I sat back at that revelation: an undercover cop who was actually trying to help us. Suddenly it was like there was a break in all the rocks that had caved in. “So he’s trying to help us?”
“Yep.” Gabby held a pillow to her chest and looked over my head, out to the city.
“So he could get me out of here?” I asked. “Get us out of here?”
“No.” The answer was immediate.
I didn’t understand. “But why?”
“He’s not going to be part of this life,” Gabby said. “Ever.” It was on the tip of my tongue to remind her that she was part of this life, but then I realized how silly that was. Of course Gabby knew that, had agonized over it. I’d been part of this life for less than a month while Gabby had been born into it. There wasn’t a minute that went by that she wasn’t aware of her situation.
“What are you going to do?” I asked eventually.
Gabby swallowed and fiddled with the pillow. Then she looked up at me. “Love always finds a way, right? If it’s real and true?”
I blinked. She was waiting, really waiting for me to answer.
Oh God.
She really thought true love could fix everything. My chest ached from the way she looked at me, eyes big and brown, searching.
“Um…” I exhaled. Her stare was unwavering. My own caught a glimpse of something shiny and metallic, and I latched on to it immediately—anything to change the subject.
“Gabby, is that a flask?” I was a bit stunned. As far as I knew, Gabby didn’t carry flasks, or drink. She blinked as if coming out of a trance then looked into her coat pocket.
“Oh, yes.” She pulled it out. “It’s just me now in Giovani’s house. I mean the Family stops by daily to check on me, but it’s mostly me. It’s the most freedom I’ve ever had. He never let me touch anything. Today I picked this up. I think it belonged to Giovani.” She looked at me, eyes wide, so young. “Have you ever been drunk?” No, I’d never been drunk. She looked at me again, with those big doe eyes. While a big part of me wanted to drink and give a big Fuck you to Beast’s rules, I thought about everything she’d just told me.
“I don’t think it’s a good idea.”
“You’re probably right…” Her face dropped. “Giovani never let me have alcohol.” She sighed and set the flask down amidst the blankets. I eyed it as she started to speak again. I didn’t think it was a good idea for Gabby to get drunk but I couldn’t stop imagining being drunk around Beast. I could finally have a buffer between him and whatever it was he did to me.
“Frankie?”
“Sorry?” I turned back to her.
“News just broke that Senator Hatch is a serial rapist,” she said.
My eyes widened. “Seriously? The Senator Hatch? Clooney lookalike and one of the longest-serving senators?” She held up her phone, showing me the headline. I blinked rapidly. A phone? The Beast didn’t allow me a phone. I wondered what the world had been up to in the three weeks I’d been away.
Well, this, apparently. The way the bright letters slashed across his face made him look surprised and guilty at the same time. I shook my head. More evidence that beauty lies.
