AllFreeNovel
Share Us
The interior hallway is littered with trash and water-stained in several spots, which is rare for the desert and says a lot about the structural integrity of this place. Mold’s growing on one wall, which can’t be healthy, and there are several ratty sleeping bags and blankets and bundles of jackets scattered around. I hesitate at a door and push it open—the room beyond is empty except for two people lying huddled together surrounded by more trash, old beer cans, syringes, what looks like an old fire that blackened half the walls, and piles of sodden toilet paper.
Jeanie’s staring around her with wide eyes.
Romano takes us on the tour. More rooms and more homeless people. Most of them are asleep, though some sit up and greet us. I greet them in exchange and even recognize a few—an old woman I call the ‘Carter’ on account of her always having a shopping cart, and an old dude with a huge beard I mentally refer to as Homeless Santa. I give them small amounts of money and move on without issue.
We go through the whole place. It’s an ugly relic, a wreck of a structure, and the people inside are desperate. Some have addiction issues, some have mental health problems, and others simply fell on hard times and haven’t been able to pull themselves out yet. We don’t talk to anyone for long, and I don’t ask them for details on how they found themselves here, but I know the general shape of what has to happen for a person to sleep in this place. The stories span the spectrum of humanity, and by the time we exit out the far end, I can tell Jeanie’s thoroughly moved and strangely freaked out.
“Why did you bring me here?” she asks in the shade of the back overhang. Romano wanders off to check on the guys I have posted nearby watching out for cops or any other unfriendly folks that might want to take a shot while I’m vulnerable.
There was a pool back there once, but now it’s used by local skateboarding kids and is filled with graffiti, the rim coated black with wax.
“I wanted you to see this place. I wanted you to see the people in there. When this deal with Malcolm goes through, this hotel will be gone.”
She looks back at the building, eyes squinted like she’s trying to understand what she just witnessed inside. “Is that a bad thing?”
“Depends who you ask,” I say. “The rich people around here, they don’t like eyesores like this. But those folks sleeping in those rooms back there? This place is an oasis for them. Sometimes we come out here with food and make sure everyone’s taken care of. Not as often as we used to, but it still happens.”
“You feed the homeless?” she asks, looking surprised. She shouldn’t know—my family does a lot for this damn city.
“We feed a lot of people, but yeah, we feed the homeless. It’s not pure altruism so don’t give me that look. They act as informants for our crews and we pay them back with hot meals when we can. But I keep thinking to myself, if the family goes legit, there won’t be any more outreach for these people. Not like this. Maybe from some ivory tower with its well-meaning acolytes and employees and donations and volunteers, but no boots on the ground. There won’t be any more fucking cookouts. I understand this place isn’t a good solution to the homeless problem, I get that. There are better ways. But the point I’m trying to make is, the Famiglia does more the way it is than the way Casso wants it to be.”
Jeanie stares at me for a few long beats of my heart before I turn back toward the building.
It’s ugly. There’s no doubt about that. The place is falling apart and it can’t be safe. But I need her to see the point I’m trying to make. This is about more than just getting revenge on Malcolm. This is about more than a building.
It’s about the heart of this damn city.
I wish I knew what was going on inside of her head. I don’t know a lot about her history, but I get the rough outline. She had it hard, struggled a lot, and maybe she feels like she has more in common with the folks in there than she wants to admit. I know that I’m stuck in my own sort of tower, shielded and privileged by the Famiglia, and I try to remember that.
“Why do you care what I think?” she asks finally and tosses a stone into the swimming pool. It clatters and slides down the side, coming to rest in the deep end. “I’m not part of your family. My opinion doesn’t count. Are you trying to convince me that you’re a decent person or something?”
I smile slightly and lean closer to her. “I’m not a good person. I can tell you that for sure.”
“Then why?”
I gaze up at the building and finally shrug, not sure how I can put this into words, but I have to try. “I think we want something similar and I’m trying to let you understand me. We’re going to work together, so I want you to know the man you’re working for.”
I glance at her and she’s studying me like she’s trying to understand what the hell is happening here. I know she’s confused, but I am too. I haven’t felt this way in a long time—I haven’t felt like I really care. Maybe it’s the mission, or maybe it’s Jeanie, but I want to do better. I’m trying to find a way to make her understand that, and there are maybe a thousand better things I can say, but none of them will come out.
I put a hand on her thigh and she looks at my fingers, head tilted to the side. I want her to push it away—I want her to make this easy. Shove my hand aside and we can forget what I’m thinking right now. Her hips against mine. Her lips and tongue and taste.
But she doesn’t, and we stay there in silence for a few seconds until Romano comes stalking over, looking grim.
“Boss!” Romano says and I instantly go on alert, my body stiffening, my hand yanking back. I know that tone and it’s not good. “Looks like Benedict and his boys are heading over to toss this place. I think they heard you were around.”
I curse and look at Jeanie. “Malcolm owns this building and from time to time he sends his fucking thugs to clear it out. They’re way worse than the cops.” I turn back to Romano. “Help me spread the word.”
We head inside and I don’t look back to see if Jeanie follows. There’s not much time and a lot of people are in danger right now. Benedict loves fucking with these people, and there’s not much they can do about it. At least the cops are restrained by some small amount of morality, humanity, and adherence to the law. Benedict’s people have none, if that. He comes here with his goons, breaks a few legs, steals stuff he doesn’t need just for fun, and basically terrorizes all the squatters. He’s an asshole, like a psychopath kid torturing animals, except these are real human beings.
“Clear out!” I shout, looking around. “Cops are coming!” I don’t feel like explaining the truth and the threat of cops will get them moving just the same.
The homeless begin to shamble out. They gather their things as the word spreads. I keep going, shouting into the empty rooms, up the stairwell, everywhere I can reach. Romano does the same, and soon Jeanie’s voice rings out, joining us. I’m proud of the girl for overcoming her fear and following us inside. The building comes alive with more people than I realized, some of them appearing as if from nowhere, and soon it’s a mass exodus out the back. When the majority of people are gone, we head back around the front, parting ways with Romano, and start to get in the car as three big trucks pull up and unload about ten mean-looking enforcer types.
Benedict gets out last and looks over at us with a deep frown.
“Too late, asshole,” I call out. Several of the enforcers look over, their mean looks twisted in rage. “No fun for you boys this morning.”
“What a nice surprise,” Benedict says. “Gavino and his pack of worthless rats trespassing on our property.”
