Indebted to the Mafia King

Eleni

I stare blankly out the window of the sports car Dante poured me into, watching the city whip by. If Dante wanted to kill me, he would have by now, right? He wouldn't bother taking me to a secondary location. My body would blend in with the others covering the floor of the auto shop he whisked me out of. Anyway, he was right. He bought me at the auction. I belong to him. I knew I should never have left without paying my debts.

The gory images I saw on our way out whisk through my mind. The scent of blood teases my nostrils. I know I should feel bad about what I did to Frank, but when I think about the blood, I can only think about Baba, his pained scream. And I can't really think about any of it. So, I stare out the window.

We pause at a stoplight, and I look at Dante. The corners of his mouth pull down, and there's a wrinkle between his dark eyebrows. But he doesn't look upset or worried. Just...focused.

"Are you all right?" My voice rasps out of my throat like I've never used it before.

"Yes," he says slowly. "Why wouldn't I be?"

I blink. "You just shot someone in the face."

A brief, stunned silence passes between us. He meets my gaze in the rearview mirror, his eyes dark and intense.

"You realize what I am, right?"

I shrug vaguely. The gesture reminds me that my head is swimming, that my wrists ache. I just want to go to bed and wake up yesterday.novelbin

"Trust me, El, I've done far worse." He turns back to the road.

Somehow, that doesn't make me more comfortable. After a few more turns, he parks the car, then reaches across my lap and opens the glovebox. His forearm brushes my thigh but he doesn't seem to notice, or care, as he grabs an envelope from the glovebox and shuts it with a snap. Without a word, he gets out of the car, crosses in front of it, and opens my door. "This'll be quick."

"I don't want to get out."

He shrugs, the corners of his mouth kicking up with amusement. "I don't know how long this will take, El. I'm not going to waste fuel and risk my favorite car getting stolen by leaving it running."

I look down at my blood splattered pajamas and peer up at him through my lashes. He smirks, shrugging out his jacket and tosses it in my lap before reaching over me again, unbuckling my seatbelt, and hauling me to my feet. A single flickering street light illuminates the alley.

I skitter back a step, my heart pounding as I clutch his jacket to my chest. "I'm not going down there. I've seen movies."

He sighs. "There's a bar down there. Benny's. The only entrance is in the alley, and I have some business to take care of. Put the jacket on, your teeth are chattering."

The word "business" turns my stomach. I can't take any more blood.

Somehow, he seems to see that in my face. He withdraws his blood-splattered gun from its holster, puts it in the glovebox, and locks the car while I slide my arms into his jacket. Then, he holds his hand out to me. Just like in the auto shop, I take it. I don't know why. His palm is warm, and his long, thin fingers slot neatly between mine. But back at Lombardi's, his hand was all I had to hold onto in the darkness. There's something soothing in having that anchor, even when I don't need it.

I follow him into the alley and, as promised, into a dingy little bar. The bartender nods as we walk in.

"Long time, no see." The muscular redhead grabs a tumbler off a rack of cups and sets it on the bar. "Business or pleasure?"

"Little of both, Teo." Dante saunters up to the bar.

I drift behind him.

"None for me, but get our friend here some of Benny's famous fries, and whatever she wants to drink." Dante squeezes my hand and ushers me onto a cracked barstool.

I sit. What else am I going to do? Maybe there's something wrong with me. Maybe I'm in shock. Dante releases my hand, ducks under the bar, and disappears through a beaded curtain.

The bartender, Teo, leans on the bar with a smile. "What do you drink?"

I don't. "Martinis?"

He chuckles. "A woman after my own heart. Nothing quite like a martini when it gets so late it's early again."

I don't tell him that was the only drink I could think of, or that I ordered so no one would be mad. He does the whole routine with the shaker, then pours something clear into a tall, triangular glass and garnishes it with a single olive. The stupid garnish brings tears to my eyes. Baba is dead. Christos is probably dead, even if he was just missing for a while. Mama is missing. I'm the last of the Calimeris family.

When Teo brings out the fries, I eat them automatically. They're hot, crispy, and salty. I barely notice. I could run away, could disappear into the city. Teo looks strong, but I'm faster. The martini starts to disappear, but I'm smart enough to shake my head when he offers me a top off. The bar is already starting to lose definition around the edges, but at least my pain has as well.

I lean on the bar. "Have you ever been kidnapped?"

Teo's eyebrows shoot up. "Can't say that I have. What about you?"

"Pfft." I wave his question away. "You're the weirdo if you haven't. Don't worry about me. I'm fine."

Teo nods slowly. "For sure. Do I need to call someone?"

I laugh until the edges of my laughter grow ragged with tears. "Who would you call?"

Dante steps out of the back room, looks at me, looks at Teo, and communicates something with a gesture I don't understand. Teo takes away my French fries, and I start to object before I see him putting them into a to-go box. "Will you tell me where we're going now?" I ask Dante as he ducks underneath the bar again.

"I'll tell you I should've ordered you more than fries." He slides his arm under mine. "I take it you don't usually drink anything, not just scotch."

I shake my head. "I've never finished a drink before."

He smiles. "You haven't finished this one."

I glance around for my glass to prove him wrong, but Teo whisks it away and hands Dante the box of fries. With his arm around my shoulders, Dante leads me up the couple stairs, back out to the street. I step on something crunchy, and abruptly, I realize I'm barefoot. I'm still in my pajamas. I don't know if I even own shoes anymore. I know just enough about the mafia to know Frank might have burned down the restaurant just to add insult to injury.

The thought knocks the alcohol instantly out of me. I pry myself away from Dante. I know just enough about the mafia to know a well-meaning boss is a trap, too.

He looks at me for a moment, then just waves me ahead of him. I climb back into the passenger seat because I think Dante could catch me. When he takes the driver's seat and hands me the fries, I look at him. "Is this the part where you kill me?" I ask. "I'm getting tired of waiting to find out."

He pulls out into traffic with a small smile on his lips. "Your mother wouldn't think much of my manners if I arrived home with your dead body."

My heartbeat roars in my ears. He's a boss. I should've seen this coming. He's taunting me. "I'm exhausted. Please, stop teasing."

"I'm not." His smile grows, and so does my worry. "I'm making an okay impression on your mom right now, and I'd like to keep that going." Something like hope blossoms in my chest. "Making? In the present?"

"Yes." He turns sharply. "Because she's safe at my house."

My heart hammers. The French fries and the martini threaten to reappear as a riot of emotion tears through me. Mama is alive? I'm not alone in this world?

"Why are you helping me?" I manage to ask.

He smirks. "I had nothing else to do tonight."

I sink back into my seat as the struts and supports of the Verrazano Bridge to Staten Island rise above the skyline.