The bar sat empty and quiet as we approached. With the barred up windows and the gated door, it was easy to tell we were the only ones here. We parked in his usual spot and got out. He opened the door to the back of the place and my excitement took over my worry. This would be my first time in his bar, as Bruno always met me at the back door for parcel pickup.
The place was just a small hole in the wall joint that Bruno's father left him after he died. The stench of booze and cigar smoke still lingered in the air of the empty establishment. We veered around small tables, meant for about four people, on our way across the room. A laid-back kind of place, with a spot to play poker, a couple of pool tables, and dartboards. The scores of an earlier game were still written on the chalkboard. The simple wooden bar counter was surrounded by high back stools, on the entire back wall hung shelves over one immense mirror. He sure has a thing for mirrors, I thought.
We maneuvered down a long hallway that ran beside the bar, a few doors lined the hall and we stopped in front of the last one. A light brown desk, a few chairs, a filing cabinet, and a rather bulky leather sofa were the only pieces of furniture in here. The walls were bare of any ornaments or pictures. A light cream paint covered them and nothing more.
Bruno leaned up against the desk and stood there looking nervous.
"What exactly do they want?" Knowing Speranza had no use for me 'cause I ran courier for more than one group or individual didn't help my nerves. Thoughts of how his other bosses may think about me made them churn more.
"They only wanna know what you saw… don't worry I'll be right here," his words helped ease my jitters.
The door opened and three men walked in. All had darker features, burly builds, and wore casual suits. One had a nasty scar on his chin right below his lip, to his left, the shortest of the three, cast furtive glances around the room. The tallest of them walked straight over to me, I attempted to move out of the way. For a gigantic man, he moved fast.
His massive hand latched onto my arm and with a jerk, I tried to tug myself free. He gave me a cocky grin. With a simple shove, he tossed me as if my body were a feather to the guy with the scar on his cheek. With deft movements, he patted me down as if I was a common criminal.
"What the fuck man." I protested. I glared up at Bruno, who simply eyed the guy's hands patting in places a person should never hide a weapon.
"She's clean," he said with a smirk, asshole, I thought.
"You can have a seat now," Bruno said.
Light footsteps filtered into the room from the open doorway. My jaw dropped as Bruno's boss Marco Marcelo marched into the room. This was bad, if he didn't buy my story I would be as good as dead.
"Sit down," he said in a thick Italian accent and I did out of need not want.
The man appeared to be forty-something with a bit of the salt and pepper effect happening in his hair. His eyes were a deep brown, similar to Bruno's and his body was well built; you could tell he took care of himself. His features were chiseled stonework and a scar laced over his right eye. His body language screamed alpha, with an air about him that demanded respect from the people under him. The faint odor of blood wafted in with him and the pit of my stomach twisted as the hairs on the back of my neck prickled.
Marco walked closer to where I sat. "So it would seem we need to have a little talk."
"Boys I'd like a little privacy with the girl," he ordered.
The three brutes filed out of the room without a word. Bruno didn't budge, Marco glared at him. He looked at me apologetically and he left too.
Marco sat there staring at me intently for a few moments. All of a sudden I smiled warmly at him, he returned the gesture.
"How do you feel Mouse?"
"Good…well…a little nervous."
His smile broadened. "That's excellent, but you have no reason to be nervous."
"You know, you're cute," I attempted to stop the words, however, my mouth wouldn't obey.
"I'm flattered, thank you. Now I want to ask a few questions if you don't mind."
"Not at all." Shut up, why the hell are you still talking, I thought. I didn't want to say those things out loud at all.
"Good girl, now tell me what happened at Speranza's the night he died."
I lost control of my mouth; the harder I tried to stop myself the more my words tumbled out until my tale ended with someone opening fire on the place. I left nothing out, everything flowed out of me, right down to what everyone inside wore that night and how they acted.
Marco studied me with intensity. I squirmed in my chair under his gaze.
"You remember all that?"
"Yes," It slipped out over my lips. Damn it, I thought. Why did my mouth keep spilling so much to this guy? I didn't want to tell him every little detail. One of the other reasons my amnesia stumped me, I could remember everything with clarity and I explained almost everything to Marco.
"Now I want you to describe the shooter."
Like a well behaved little zombie, my mouth complied with his request, much to the horror of my mind.
"Good...very, very good." his eyes twinkled a little.
He leaned in closer to me, his nostrils flared as he sniffed the air. Not once did he take his eyes off mine. Something weird was going on; this guy gave me the impression he might not be what he portrayed himself as.
"Now what happened after the shooting started," he resumed the questioning. My heart raced in my chest, I struggled with myself to tell a lie and the sweat trickled from my forehead into my eyes. I blinked.
"Tell me Mouse."
"I hit my head and blacked out." Yes, I Win. I thought.
Marco smiled as his eyes narrowed and our eyes locked again. "You're a stubborn minded girl. I imagine you are delicious," he grabbed me by the arm. I shivered from the icy hold on my flesh. A small sting irritated my wrist; I wanted to look down but couldn't force my eyes from his. Marco raised a crimson coated finger to his mouth and sucked the digit clean.
His eyes flashed with delight "Yes, definitely tasty."
He stood up releasing his gaze. My head swooned as everything spun around me. I sat there limp as he walked to the door.
"I'll be seeing you again."
He stepped out and a murmured whisper amongst the group of men filtered into the room. I strained to hear more, yet couldn't make out what they said. Several moments elapsed as I sat there while my resolve reasserted itself. Bruno opened the door and walked in. His eyes were stormy, a snarl played at the edges of his lips. My guts started to flare up once more. Oh no not again, I thought...but then nothing happened.
"Set her up in one of the safe houses, Understand," Marco shouted from right outside the door.
Bruno walked to my side and extended a hand to help me up. Instinctively I reached up for his. His gaze fell to my wrist. "Mouse you're bleeding."
My attention drew to my wrist, a small gasp slipped out of my mouth. A deep half-inch wide puncher mark still oozed blood; the rivulets of red trailed down my arm. I didn't even notice it get cut. The stories of freaks that got into blood sharing and other crazy stuff came to mind. This was my first time meeting one of them though.
With quick reflexes, he pulled a handkerchief from his pants pocket. His tender warm gestures were so different from those of Marco's. He gently wrapped my wound, his eyes the softest brown.
"That will work til we get you some bandages."
"What's going to happen?"
"I'm taking you someplace safe for now. At least until the boss says otherwise."
With that, he led me out to his car. We drove back in silence; it was awkward, to say the least. We pulled up to the rather plain white house, the exterior and yard was rather bland. No flowers or ornaments, only a well maintained lawn and a black asphalt driveway. When we got out of the car, my heart sank a bit; the safe house didn't feel so safe to me. It was just a different kind of cage, one made to appear much like any other house on the street.
Bruno guided me through the living room; the décor resembled a throwback of a different era. Burnt orange colored armchairs, a horrid lime fabric sofa, and more of the god-awful brown shag carpet. The wood paneled walls in the hallway he escorted me down created a darkening effect. We paused in front of a doorway.
"You can use this," he stated as he opened the door.
I stood there horrified by the sight before me... Pink. Everything in the room, the curtains, the rug, the bedding, as well as the canopy over the bed, all of it, different shades of pink. The bedroom reminded me of a Pink Hippie Sit in with peace signs, oversized flowers and make love, not war posters.
"You're fucking kidding, right?"
"No, it's the spare," he started to walk away from me.
"Whoa Bruno, hold up a sec. I don't mean to be rude but I really don't need a handout, I got my own pad."
I marched to the back entrance, managing to open the door about a foot and a half. A massive hand snapped out and slammed it shut making the house shake a bit.
"Where the fuck do you think you're going?"
My face heated and my jaw went slack. Bruno never yelled at me before. The shock left me momentarily speechless as he manhandled me back to the pink bedroom.
"You need to stay put, or I'm a dead man," he gave me a small shove towards the bedroom.
"Why? I told him what I know."
"He ain't done with you yet." Bruno's eyes revealed his frustration and my heart sank.
My thoughts raced, sneaking out later would be easy. But then Bruno would suffer because of me. The idea of a friend getting roughed up because of me in truth didn't sit well. I tossed the idea around of staying, I swiveled around, with my hands on my hips and stared up at him.
"Ok but I want the satin room."
Bruno stared down at me and snorted. "Yeah, that ain't happening."
That left me stuck with the putrid pink bedroom.
After about two hours of sulking by myself in the room, I came out. I found Bruno with two other guys in the living room watching a soccer game on the TV. They glanced up at me as I made my entrance known by a small "Um"
Bruno rose from his armchair and motioned me to follow him. We walked into a small dining room right off the kitchen. Similar to the rest of the house, everything in here was retro. He motioned me to have a seat at the small table and handed me a pen and notepad.
"I was told if you need anything to get it for you, so write me up a list."
"A list of what?"
"Stuff…I dunno. Whatever it is a lady needs."
The list didn't take long to write. Just the basic hygiene products a girl would need and a change of clothes. My stay here would be as short as possible if I could help it.
"Bruno, why does Marco need me to stay here?" I asked him as I handed him the notepad.
He ignored my question and wrote something down on my list.
"What size are you?"
"Um, why are you fixing to buy me a funeral dress?" I joked. His face gave no hint of getting my sense of humor. I told him my sizes before walking back out to the living room.
I promptly plucked my butt in one of the armchairs. Bruno sat in the second one. He studied my face for a moment, his own an unreadable mask. The man appeared to be sizing me up. Unsure as to why left my nerves unsettled a bit. I squirmed in my seat a little. He gave a weak attempt at a smile before he got up and headed to the guy standing at the back door.
I rose and peered out the front window, spying two more of them in front of the house. I guessed that all of them packed heat and couldn't tell if they were here to protect Bruno, or me. Six armed men in total. I turned to Bruno; he didn't give me the impression he wouldn't be able to defend himself if he needed to. That left me. So why did I need my very own hitman team?
"Look, you got to tell me what's going on...please."
"You're gonna meet Don Lucchese in a few days."
"Let me guess, another cousin."
"Yeah…something like that."
"Seriously Bruno, tell me why I need to stay here. It's not as if you can't just text me when you want me."
He glanced from me to the two gorillas sitting on the sofa. With a sigh he walked over and grabbed me by the arm in a firm but gentle hold, guiding me to a chair in the kitchen. He sat down in the one directly across from mine and leaned in real close.
A real expression of worry dominated his face as he whispered. "Cause someone is killing off our men."
"I'm not related to you I'll be fine."
"Mouse cut the crap, this is serious shit. The word on the street is there is a war brewing and the boss he's a bit antsy right now."
"But why do I have to stay here."
"Marco thinks you're hiding shit from him. Now listen, if you are, he will get it out of you and it ain't gonna be a pleasant experience."
"But I told him everything that went down."
The hardest thing I ever did was try to lie to Marco and I wasn't stupid. Another bout could prove my downfall and there would be a target on my back.
Bruno reached over and pushed a stray lock of hair behind my ear. I smiled at him; which didn't help my resolve to leave once I got the chance. What could I do, if I ran Bruno would end up hurt; if I stayed I would be the one that received the butt end of the hurt factor. Things were going to hell pretty fast. Here I sat with a first-class ticket for the ride.
I figured as long as they didn't execute me, I would heal, it would be faster than he could mend. I breathed in deep, mustering the courage to show Bruno my unique trick of mending.
"Come with me, I need to show you something," I told him.
I made him follow me into his bedroom and I shut the door.
"You're going to want to sit for this," I said.
He looked at me funny but sat on his bed and faced me. I stood in front of the doorway so he couldn't run out. Then decided against the idea as that would be the same as stopping a freight train and I stepped off to the side.
"I sort of lied to you …your boss too."
His eyes darkened and his body tensed up.
"What." He snapped at me.
"Just let me explain before you rat me out" I pleaded, his jaw muscles tensing.
He scowled at me; his normally dark brown eyes grew a smoldering black. "This better be good."
I chewed on my fingernail briefly while I tried to find the right words.
"Ok I was at the Laundromat and I did see the shoo "
"Yeah you said this already," he said with furrowed eyebrows.
"Yeah, but the thing I lied about was I didn't get knocked unconscious," I explained a bit nervous as to how this next part would go.
"And so you stuck around for the cops?" The frustration in his tone was clear.
"Not exactly…I got shot."
He scrunched his brows together, tilted his head to the side, and curled the corner of his lip. "What the hell are you talking about?"
His reaction definitely not the one I went for but then again I never told anyone about me being a freak before. With a deep sigh, I thought. Wonderful, he thinks I'm nuts.
"I took seven bullets if you don't believe me ask Detective Roberts."
My mouth spewed out the words in a rapid succession, maybe saying them faster wouldn't make me come off so crazy.
Bruno sprang to his feet and loomed over me. "You expect me to believe that shit, my neck is on the line here."
"Honestly Bruno, I swear it's true. I heal really fast…like weird fast."
"This isn't a game Mouse, you spew that crap to Marco and he'll kill you."
"I'll show you."
My thoughts turned to the black eye and bruised chin I acquired from taking him by surprise earlier. I took a few deep breaths, I squeezed my hand into fists. Wishing to heal, willing my injuries to repair themselves. Bruno stood before me, his nostrils flared a bit. The vein in the middle of his forehead throbbed. Fear took over. I lost my concentration.
The wave of heat drifted over me and Bruno jumped back a few feet. I peered down at my hands. A beautiful blend of orange, red, and blue fire swam around my balled fists. Well, there's a first. I thought. Any other time it took my temper to unleash flames. Never had it been so controlled. This, however, was not the time to revel in my accomplishment as the man in front of me looked ready to pounce.
Squeezing my eyes closed I forced my attention to a calmer place. Images flashed in my mind of Grubby. My solace in any situation, her calming purrs, bedtime snuggles, and constant kneading, always helped me find tranquility.
I opened my eyes to be greeted by the business end of a nickel-plated snub-nosed .38 caliber revolver. Bruno's eyes were locked on mine, his teeth clenched so tight the muscles in his jaw bulged. My breathing, hearing and thought processes froze. I would be a dead woman if he so much as twitched his finger. I attempted to calm the rising panic in me, hoping Bruno acted on his instincts to be paranoid.
"What the fuck are you," he growled.
The gravel tone to his voice was less shocked and a lot more threatening. I blinked a few times, thinking he must be nuts, he should at least be surprised...or something.
"Easy now," I stammered out.
"Answer me. What are you? Demon, Mage, Witch...what."
His response left me dumbfounded; in that instant, I didn't appear to be the sole freak in the room.
"Um, Bruno what are you talking about?"
"You, how did you do that." His face darkened, his eyes narrowed to mere slits. "Who sent you?"
"Bruno I'm not working for anyone, oh god, don't shoot me. I don't know where this comes from; listen I don't even know my own name...come on... that's why everyone calls me Mouse. Please, Bruno ...please put the gun down."
"I don't think so."
He moved me by the arm with one hand not taking the gun away from my head.
"Bruno, please. I didn't want to tell you because I was scared you might think I was a freak. I didn't think you'd act like this," I said while he forced me to sit on his bed.
"You're gonna tell me everything, you're not gonna leave one bit out, now what are you."
Over the next hour or so I explained what I managed to learn about myself, even successfully showing him that I could heal my wounds. Bruno listened keenly, calming a bit more. He didn't say much the whole time I talked. Which left me trying to guess if he believed me or not.
He put his gun away and calmed down considerably. The tension eased, I came to the conclusion he had no intentions of shooting me. By the time I finished talking the sun crested the buildings outside. My arse had long since gone numb and I kept stifling yawns. Tired from the nights' events I looked at Bruno and pouted.
"I need to get some sleep."
"Soon, first I need to give the boys some new orders, then you can crash."
He walked out of his room, I didn't even wait for the door to close all the way before flopping myself down onto his bed. Sleep instantly began to steal me away, I was so exhausted, not even registering Bruno returning and covering me over with a blanket.