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“You have no idea what this means to me, Don,” Ben said, choking up slightly. “How can I ever repay you?”
The Don waved his hand through the smoke as he continued to talk through yet another coughing fit.
“You will have your orders soon, boy, but for now, you need to get out there and find your woman. Then promise me one thing.”
The Don leaned in close, pointing his cigar at Ben like a ruler. Ben leaned in close to him, too, his green eyes lining up with the gray, glowing ash of the stub.
“Anything,” Ben whispered.
“Promise me you will never let her go.”
Ben was elated. His smile grew along his lips like the horizon grows in sunlight, getting larger and even more encapsulating by the second.
The Don didn’t need to hear anymore. He clapped Ben again on his back and squished his shoulders. He was like a happy father, ready to meet his son’s new bride.
But Ben was a long way off from all of that. He just had to hope that the fucking plane hadn’t left.
He touched Don's fingers that lingered on his shoulder.
“I should go.”
“Go, go,” the Don yelped with laughter and glee. “Get your woman and serve her like the queen she is!”
The Don lightly slapped his cheeks, then gruffly ordered the security detail to open the doors. Ben thanked him repeatedly, then sprinted down the street to the garage where he had parked his car.
Ben had thought meeting the Don in that parking lot would be his gravesite. He had parked his car in an underground garage, one full of other cars, so it would less likely be noticed until weeks after his body was destroyed and remains scattered. He had been given another chance by the Don, a new lease on life, and it pushed him forward like he had wings attached to his shoes.
There was so much to look forward to. He would find Liz, confess his love, and hope that she felt the same. He desperately wanted to believe that she would agree to be with him, to marry him, and fulfill that image of her beautiful and pregnant in the green pastures of their love.
Ben entered the parking lot, zipping toward the car and struggling to get it open. His hands were shaking, so it took a second to push the right fob button and climb in. The entire time, he was laughing madly, exhilarated to finally be able to tell the truth and show the truth to the woman of his dreams.
He gazed at the time, hoping the plane hadn’t left yet. There was a chance he could catch her boarding or, hell, even run onto the plane and get her to walk off with him. It was a grand, drastic, and dramatic gesture, but he was in love; there wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do.
Ben pulled out of the parking lot as he dialed Liz’s number through the Bluetooth in his car. It rang four, five, six times until it went to her voicemail.
“FUCK!” he howled, slamming his fist onto the steering wheel.
Either she was ignoring him, or the service in the airport was shit. Either way, he was going to find a way to get to her. She had to hear how he felt, then she could make her own decision from there.
He kept trying her phone as he blasted to the airport. On the fourth time, it suddenly stopped ringing, and Ben nearly leapt out through the windshield.
“Liz?” he exclaimed.
At first, there was nothing, only labored breathing. She was angry with him and probably intensely hurt. He could understand that.
“Liz, don’t get on that plane. I’m a fucking idiot, but I’m a fucking idiot that cares about you. Liz, I …”
“Save it, Romeo.”
The voice on the other end of the phone wasn’t Liz. It was someone he knew and someone who had terrible intentions.
“Vito?”
His friend, his soldier, laughed on the other end of the line. Ben’s excitement had been replaced by dread, a feeling that was oily and monstrous.
“Liz isn’t quite ready for a conversation,” he said, with a smirk in his voice. “But if you come to get her, you just might be the right one to make her talk.”
“Vito!” Ben screamed in the car. “If you lay a fucking hand on her, I swear to God, I will rip you apart!”
