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We finish our glasses and I listen to her talk, a pain growing in the back of my head. My eyes start to sag and I get a sense that I need a nap, that I could sleep for hours if I just let my eyes close. I look across at Cathy and she looks how I feel. “How strong is that?” she asks, slurring her words.
I look around at the other tables. The movement makes my vision spin and bump like I’m in a car with no suspension. “What’s happening?” I ask.
“Shit,” Cathy says, picking up the wine bottle and sniffing it. “It can’t be that strong. Did we get spiked?”
It makes sense. I want to panic. I want to do something about the way I’m feeling but the tiredness in my limbs is seeping too deep into my bones.
I grab Cathy by the hand and pull her out the door to the street, a feat that takes all my strength. The apartment seems a very long way away and I don’t know where I am. I’ve forgotten who I am.
I shake my head to clear the fog and work out I’ve just brought her out the fire escape. We’re in an alleyway behind the bar.
And we’re not alone.
There’s a man standing in front of us. I recognize him. The one who tried to buy me a drink. “You,” I say as he walks toward me.
“Sit down,” he says, pushing me to the floor. “Don’t bother to fight this. You brought his driver to our establishment? Think we wouldn’t care? What is it, some kind of power play? You’ve got balls, I’ll give you that. Got to pay for the insult though, haven’t you? He’s not here to save you now, is he? Dumb bitch didn’t even notice what went in her wine bottle.” He fakes tears. “Boo fucking hoo.”
Two more men come out of the fire door and he immediately starts arguing with them. I hear a couple of words. “More money … not worth the trouble … won’t remember a thing … we’ll show those Felici assholes ...”
While they’re bickering, I rummage in my handbag, getting my phone out.
“I need a nap,” Cathy says, yawning loudly. “Maybe I just sleep here for a while.” She puts her head on the ground, her eyes closing. Mine are doing the same. I’ve got seconds of consciousness left.
I hit dial, press the phone to my ear, and mumble a sentence that makes no sense.
From a great distance I hear Vincenzo’s voice. “Ophelia? What’s wrong? Talk to me.”
“Belucci’s bar,” I manage to say before I drop the phone and my world turns black. “I think I love you.”
“Who you calling?” the guy yells, storming over as I try to open my eyes again. I see his shadow as he towers over me. “You think anyone’s going to get here in time to save you? Good luck with that.”
Ten
Vincenzo
I’m already on my way to the bar when she calls. I barely get anything out of her because I already know what’s happening. I can’t believe they moved so fast. I hit the gas as her words fade to nothing. Time’s running out.
The fucking Belucci famiglia. Anything to fuck with me. I’m going to be wiping out some lives by the end of this.
When Rocky called me to say he’d spotted Tony Belucci in the bar, I knew I fucked up. Shouldn’t have given him permission to go on his date with her roommate. Now the Beluccis have spotted him, connected him to her which means they know Ophelia is linked to me. That puts her in danger.
Shit, I knew I shouldn’t have gotten her involved, should have stayed away from her. Now she’s unconscious and within five minutes she’ll be loaded into the back of a van, making her way to one of their brothels. A bargaining chip to try and blackmail me into handing over a ransom. Either that or shipped across the border to taunt me into breaking the truce.
The Beluccis have no idea of the fury they’ve unleashed. They think because I’m on the verge of going straight that I won’t want to risk staining my hands with their blood, especially not with the Feds watching so closely.
They’re wrong.
I skid to a halt out front and burst into the place, hand on the gun in my jacket. No sign of her. “The girl,” I announce to the entire place. “Where is she?”
One dumb fuck associate comes at me, fists high, hoping to make a name for himself. I grab his arm when he swings at me. One twist and his wrist snaps. I drop him. He screams uselessly on the floor. “Where is she?” I ask again.
A couple of nervous hands point toward the fire escape. I crash through it in time to spot it all going down. It takes me less than a second to analyze the situation. A van, parked sideways to block the view from the street.
Side door open. Inside, one man. Outside, another with Tony, the two of them holding the unconscious form of Ophelia. Cathy is on her back inside the van, not moving.
When Rocky told me Tony was there, I told him to deal with the van. He’ll be somewhere, hopefully with a set of spark plugs in his pocket. The van won’t be going anywhere. Neither will Tony or his acolytes.
I take one step into the alleyway and the three of them freeze. The two strangers take one look at me and all the color drains from their cheeks. They turn and look at Tony, the one in the van saying, “You never told us these were Felici’s women. You said no one would miss them.” They sound like they’re saying it for my benefit but it won’t save them.
