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“I shouldn’t be telling you this but Rocky and Vincenzo are together at the moment. They are both fine, as far as I am aware. Please, save your questions for another time. Do not worry about the money either. Whatever happens, that will be in your account as agreed. We are an honorable family and we always meet our obligations. Would you like a hand with your case?”
“I’ll be fine, thanks. Could you tell Vincenzo to give me a call when he gets chance.”
“Of course.”
I say my goodbyes and then head up to my apartment. Cathy welcomes me home with a hug but she looks pale, her smile forced. “Any news?” she asks.
I shake my head, collapsing onto the couch, sending stuffing flying into the air. “Rocky and Vincenzo are together somewhere, I know that much.”
“Where?”
“It was a guy called Angelo who brought me home. He wouldn’t say much, only that they’re both safe and well.”
“That’s something, at least. What do we do now?”
“What can we do? Wait and see if they get in touch.”
“I hope they do.”
“Yeah, me too.”
She flicks on the TV and finds a Malcolm in the Middle episode. I try to watch it but my mind is far away, back on the island, back in the last few moments of peace before it was all taken away from me.
I get the feeling all I’ll have from now on is that one perfect memory to remember him by. My heart sinks as I have the horrible premonition that I will never see him again.
Forty-Two
Vincenzo
Iwatch her going into her building and I want nothing more than to run to her, take her in my arms, sweep her away from all this.
I can’t do that. He would follow us. He would track us down. He would kill her to hurt me.
The only defense that has a hope of working is offense. I have to take the battle to him.
Rocky is on the roof of the building, watching out with a pair of high powered binoculars. “Any sign?” I ask into the radio.
“Not yet,” he replies. “She get in all right?”
“Bait is in the trap.”
Is that all she is to me? Bait? My father would have no problem with a situation like this. Women are there to be used, as he always said. There was never a time when that wasn’t the case. The affairs during my childhood. Mom walking out and never coming back, telling me she’d come to get me. The lies parents tell to make themselves feel better.
I should be fine with this. I’m using her to reach my goal, same as I planned from the start.
Only things are different now. The idea of her getting hurt because of me fills me with a gut wrenching sickness.
I don’t want her to get hurt.
As long as I get this right, she won’t.
I watch out for him. He could come at any time. I might be here for hours, maybe days.
I get the feeling it won’t be long. He knows that the longer he leaves it, the more time I have to persuade the commission of my point of view. If he moves fast, the game is over.
I keep a close eye on the sidewalk but I let my mind wander. I run my hand over my face, feeling the cuts and bruises on it. I bet I look a mess.
My side is still aching from the kicks and my left ankles is going to be useless if I’m not careful on it. I’m getting too old for brawling. This time, it won’t be a fistfight. It’ll be a bullet in the head. Over in seconds. Then I can relax. Then she’ll be safe.
