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SIX
‘THE WAITING GAME’ BONES
Gio
Thank fuck the Renzetti’s have the connections they do, otherwise hacking into the city’s security would have been next to impossible…or at the very least, it would have taken too long to access.
Four hours into my search of vehicle registrations under Alan and my mother’s name, I’ve finally found a 2021 Chevy Tahoe connected to my mother. Each time I think of her, my mind reacts differently.
The fact that I can’t say with total confidence that my mother would never side nor help my piece of shit father speaks volumes. I have no clue who Elena Donatello is, and that’s the one thing my mind keeps coming back to; who is this woman who birthed me then left me?
I realize I didn’t really have time to grieve my mother. I mean, I had many opportunities to mourn her loss, and God knows how many times I lied awake well into the night with tears on my cheeks for her, but it wasn’t long before Lexi entered my life. Once my father saw her, he didn’t wait for the ink on his divorce papers to be dry before he was already walking down the aisle with another poor woman to abuse. When Lexi moved in and brought with her a warm smile and sweet eyes, the grief I felt for my mother began to turn into an ache that only stung when I was alone.
Now as a man, my mother’s absence has rarely been thought of…until now.
What the fuck are you doing, Elena?” I question to myself as I work to hack into the OnStar system in her truck.
Finally!The mainframe opens up to my codes, and I’m allowed access as though I were in the system’s cloud. I bring up file after file of GPS recordings and search through the dates until I find the one that I’m looking for. I decide to go back to the beginning of the day, from the moment the car was first started, so I can see the location of wherever my father has been laying his head every night.
No surprise it’s the Marionette Hotel. Too bad it doesn’t tell me which room, not that it’ll be difficult to get on my own, but it would have been one less thing to do. I reach for my phone and send off a text to Luce.
Me:I found the Tahoe, and I’m in the GSP system now.
Luce:Good. I found something on the street near the accident.
A picture comes through, and I feel my chest burn with both pain and rage. There in the center of Luce’s rough fingers is the locket I gave to Lexi. It’s covered in street grime and oil, but there’s no mistaking the engraved L and G on the front. Another picture comes through, and in this one, Luce has the locket open showing the picture of her father.
Luce:I figured you might want to have this back so you can re-gift it to her when she’s home again.
Fuck, I feel like a double-down fucking bastard for how I spoke to Luce earlier. I haven’t slept like I was basically ordered to, but I know my own body. Yes, I know I’m reaching the end of my energy, and I know taking another upper won’t do much, but I just can’t lay my head down until we have Lexi and Maxine back. Still, if I’m asked, I’ll lie and say I have slept.
I begin to type out an apology to my best friend for letting my mouth run but decide against it. I’d rather do that in person rather than over a text, so I just type out a sincere thank you and tell him to call all the guys together to my apartment for plans against Alan.
I put my phone aside and grab my notepad and pen. I jot down the next few stops on the GPS along with the timestamps and how long the vehicle was parked for before finally coming to the wreck.
Before the OnStar detected a car accident, the system was only recording the times the truck would stop for more than three minutes, but the moment Alan and the unknown driver slammed their truck into my best friend’s car door, the system began recording continuously.
After taking Lexi, the car speeds away from the scene to a building in Brooklyn. I search the location of the place and stare at the small convenience store front. I slide the camera angle on the street view of the map I’m on and see that there’s an alley behind the small bodega. I can’t be sure because there’s dumpsters and trash bags blocking the view, but I’m positive there’s a cellar entry there since most buildings have them in this city.
I quickly jot down the address and grab my phone.
“I got the location of the truck. It’s in Brooklyn and hasn’t moved since arriving there.” I tell Luce as I pull my cigarette box from my jeans, taking out a rolled up joint and lighting it.
“Let’s fucking go now.” He growls.
“Just what I wanted to hear. Come pick me up.”
We hang up, and I quickly take a couple of more pills before rushing out of my apartment.
A grin spreads across my face, my fingers itching to be covered in my father’s blood.Here we come, motherfucker.
—
The sun has dipped low, the sky a bright pink along the horizon as the air drops at least five degrees. My eyes feel like sandpaper, and the cold air doesn’t help me wake up in the slightest. I need adrenaline because the pills I took did absolutely nothing for me. I stand inside an alcove as I wait for Luce, my eyes never leaving the bodega just one block away. I watch as the store worker walks over to theopensign and pulls the string until the neon piping goes black.
I bring my joint to my lips, pulling in a deep breath as I lean against the brick wall, the burn of the weed keeping from going off the course Luce and I decided on. I tug on the hood of my jacket, pulling it over my beanie-covered head as I exhale a cloud of smoke into the cold air. When Luce and I met up an hour ago, we did a walk around, our noses and mouths covered by our face masks and our eyes hidden behind our hair. For all intents and purposes, Luce and I look more like brothers than best friends, but it works in our favor, especially if the criminals are described as such.
After getting a good idea of the layout around the building, spotting the cellar entry inside the alleyway, slightly obstructed from view by trash bags, Luce and I split ways so he could steal a vehicle for us to use when we get the girls out.
