Trapped in his End Game (Series)

From the outside, this deli looks pretty unremarkable. It’s a white building with faded red cursive letters: Centanni’s Pork Store. The outdoors has several flimsy-looking tables and chairs, where there are a few men milling around.

She wants to meet at this place?

This hardly looks like the sort of place that would attract her attention. Michelle’s all about fusion restaurants and the hipster scene. This is mom-and-pop. Boring.

I walk toward the door, trying to reserve judgment as I pass a man my age seated at a table. Someone else walks right in front of my path and blocks the door as I reach out for the handle. What the fuck?

A dark-skinned Italian crosses his arms, looking down at me. It’s Vince. He looks at me unsmilingly. “Fancy seeing you here.”

The sight of him today makes my blood run cold. The revulsion in my stomach builds like the collection of saliva in your mouth right before you vomit. The guy’s blood was all over, running in the streets. I am completely overcome with terror. I must be still in shock-or traumatized, or something.

Why are they here? I look at the tables outside, and I see Joe there, lounging in a chair.

His frown deepens. “We don’t talk business at the deli, if that’s why you’re here.”

I keep my eyes down. “I’m just here to meet a friend of mine. Michelle.”

A smile lights his face when I mention her name, and he steps aside.

Creep.

“Nice broad. You could learn a thing or two from her.”

Then the surge of anger returns.

“Oh, fuck off.”

I don’t like being told to be nice, especially from this asshole. I’ll be angry if I fucking want to be angry.

His face twists into a deadly smirk as the men behind him crack up, but I step aside and shove the door open.

You’re still playing with fire, talking to them like that.

My intestines feel like live snakes. I really need to learn to bring my temper under control. I shouldn’t insult them, as much as they deserve it. This must be a goddamn hangout for these mobster bastards. Why the hell did she want me to come here? Christ, this is the last thing I need.

I walk inside the brightly lit, dingy deli. It’s a bit cold inside, and right away I notice Michelle sitting at a table, looking kind of guilty. Her wan face turns toward me, her hair a bit more yellow in the weak lighting.

“Want a sandwich?”

She has a half-eaten Italian sub on a paper plate, but I shake my head. “Nah. I just wanted to get out of the apartment.” I look around, and it’s pretty deserted. My voice drops to a whisper. “Why did you bring me here? You know I hate these guys.”

Her face falls. “Why do you hate them so much? I know that they kind of have you and your dad in a bind, but they’re not so bad, are they?”

“You have no idea.” I think of the body Tommy disposed of yesterday. If she only knew.

Curious blue eyes widen and a nervous grin hitches on her face. “Oooh, tell me!”

God, I almost want to. Part of me wants to talk about it with someone; the larger, cowardly part wants to keep it to myself. Tommy warned me. He wasn’t coy about it, either. No, I have to keep my trap shut about all of it.

There’s just way too much at stake.

“It’s not the sorta thing you gossip about.”

She grins. “It sounds like just the sort of thing you gossip about.”

I shake my head violently. “No way. I’m not going there.”

Her face crumples in disappointment and then she looks down at her sandwich, apparently embarrassed. “Listen, I wanted to ask for your help. I was wondering if I could go in the back after tonight’s shift and have drinks with the guys.”

I shrug. “Why do you need me?”Nôvel(D)rama.Org's content.

“There’s this guy I really like. His name’s Ben-”

“Oh God.” I know where this is going already.

“No, listen. He’s really sweet-”

“Oh yeah,” I snort. “Sweet.”

They’re sweet right up until they confront a thief and stab him to death. Yup.

“He’s hot, and I want him. They never like it when I’m back there by myself, but if you stayed there after work-”

Frustration builds in my chest and I wonder how I ever found this girl smart. I want to scream. “Michelle, why the hell do you want to date these guys? They’re not nice guys. Do you realize what they do for a living? Have you read the news lately?”

Her eyes crinkle with amusement. “Geez, will you relax? I just want to go on a few dates, what’s the big deal?”

I stare at her.

Fine.

Let her go on a few dates, and she’ll see what they’re really like.

“All right, fine.”

Michelle’s face lights up and she leans over the table, squealing. “Thank you!”

“Can we get out of here now?”

She laughs. “‘Course. Where do you want to go?”

Anywhere, as long as it’s not here.

I stand up stiffly as I notice movement in the back. Suddenly the door flies open, bringing a gust of cold air into the cafe.

Oh no.

My head swims with dizziness as I recognize the man behind the counter. He grinned at me over the body of the man he just killed. Tommy stands behind the counter, his white sleeves rolled up and his arms shining as if he recently washed them. His normally handsome face looks ugly. His eyebrows are knitted; his face wears a grimace, his eyes shrouded. It makes me back against the table I just got up from. He looks as if he’ll kill the first person he sees. Then he notices me standing there, and the look evaporates from his face. It’s so fast that I think I imagined it.

“Melanie?” His eyes widen as he takes in Michelle’s appearance, too. “Melanie and Michelle, what a nice surprise.”

It’s not really that nice.

Michelle beams at him, but my guts feel as though they’re made of steel. Unyielding. Rigid.

I give him a reluctant smile. “Hi.”

“Did you come here to see me?”

What should I say?

My heart jumps when I hear the door to the deli open and close. Michelle disappears behind it, smirking at me behind the glass.

Bitch.

When I turn around, Tommy stands right in front of me, his eyes burning. “What’s the matter, sweetheart? Cat got your tongue?”

Last night seemed like a hazy, absurd dream, but now that I’m confronted with him again, I am sick with fear. The nausea creeps up my throat, combined with the thrill of being so close to him. I’m scared. I’m sick. It’s so confusing to my system.

His eyes harden, his voice dropping low enough so that it’s hard to hear him. “You haven’t been talking to anyone, have you?”

“No,” I say, finally finding my voice. “I’m only here because Michelle wanted a favor. I didn’t know all of you would be here.”

The hazel eyes regard me suspiciously for a moment, but then the dimples curve into his cheeks. “What kind of favor?”

“She’s into Ben.”

His eyes flash. “Hm.”

“She wants to hang out in the back of the club after her shift is done. Do you think he’ll be there?”

Tommy’s eyes close like shutters on windows, and his jaw tenses. “Maybe. I don’t know.”

The energy coming off Tommy shifts. He always feels warm and energetic, but the moment I mentioned Ben’s name, I feel him pull away from me.

“We haven’t seen him in a couple days, so we’re assuming the worst,” he explains.

I have no love for these Mafia people, but even I can grudgingly admit that Ben always treated me decently. He never gave me shit or manhandled me. I liked him a lot more than Vincent, that’s for sure.

“I’m sorry.”

The sad smile on his face tugs at my heartstrings, and he makes a little shrug as if it’s no big deal. His eyes suddenly shine with amusement.

“Why are you so quiet?”

Well, no shit I’m quiet. I only just watched you rip open someone the night before.

“I didn’t sleep very well last night.”

“Oh? How come?”

My eyes bug out at him. Is he fucking with me?

“Because of what happened.”

His face is as blank as ever, but he gives me a nod as though he understands what I’m going through.

“It’ll be all right, hon. Sometimes these things happen. You’ll get used to it.”

What?

Then he touches my shoulder in what I’m sure he thinks is a consoling gesture, but it just feels like a violation.

I don’t want to get used to it.

Another loud bang makes me jump as the back door flies open.

A young guy sticks his head out. “Tommy, I need you, man-ah, hello.” He breaks midsentence to greet me, his round face blushing.

Tommy turns toward him, seething. His face flushes with color and he looks as if he’s on the verge of exploding.

“I-I was just leaving. Bye, Tommy.”

Eager to get out of that place, I practically sprint across the cafe and as I burst out of the door, I get one final shot of Tommy, red in the face, screaming.

“I was fucking talking to her, you dumb-ass!”

The door slams shut, and I nearly crash into Vincent.

“Whoa!”

I sidestep him and lunge for Michelle, who sits beside Joe. He looks at me with thinly veiled contempt. I grab Michelle’s hand and yank her upright. “Come on.”

“All right-ow, you’re hurting me!” She twists around and waves at him. “Bye, Joe!”

“See you.”

Michelle stumbles as I walk forward. Her face narrows in annoyance.

“Jesus! What the hell has gotten into you?”

I can’t tell her. She gets just one look at my frightened face and shuts up. My pace quickens and blood rushes to my head.

God, I just want to get out of this. I can’t stand it.