The waitress brings the beers and I pick mine up, but don’t drink. “Come on, don’t sell yourself short. I’ve seen you fight, and I’ve seen you negotiate. I’ve rarely seen anybody do it better.”
He gives me a sidelong look that suggests he thinks I’m full of shit.
“I mean it,” I say. “There’s also the way you’re handling yourself on this mission. I thought I’d have to carry you, but you’re just a natural.”
And in a lot of ways, he’s been the one carrying me, if I’m completely honest.
“Your father was an idiot for not seeing your potential,” I add.
He takes a swig of his beer, his eyes still suggesting he thinks I’m lying.
“Wow,” he finally says. “That’s probably the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me. But then again, I already knew you were the one.”
My face heats up and I have to look away from his eyes, because they’re plainly telling me he meant with me when he spoke about building something for himself here in the West.
“I mean it,” I say and meet his eyes again. Because I do. And because I love looking at them. I can read so much there. So many good things. Things that make me believe my life could be different. That I don’t have to just be broken Bianca, or fiercely strong Alice. That there’s a space to be in between those things and that he can show it me.
“This has been a very nice date,” he says and laughs again. “Didn’t start out that way, but?—”
“But we should go back to the motel now,” I say and wave to the waitress for the check. “See if all those cameras and mics we set up are working.”
“Right, take one step forward and three back. That’s just how it’s gonna be with you.”
He sounds annoyed and he’s not smiling anymore either.
“Actually, I want to get Gael… the priest as soon as possible,” I say. “So I can get on with my life. To see if that will help me get on with my life.”
What the hell possessed me to admit this to him? But the way he’s looking at me now suggests that maybe he can read me via my eyes as clearly as I can read him.
“Gotcha,” he says and nothing else.
But I think he does really get it. That he knows I mean to try and let him in once I’m done bringing Gael down. Maybe I should tell him that too. But it could very well be a promise I can’t keep. So I shouldn’t make it.
22
Nico
All the cameras and mics she hid all over the basement of the community center and inside the church are transmitting. The pictures are crystal clear and the sound is so clear we can hear the wicks on the candles burning in the church hissing.
Trouble is, that’s all we can hear. All the spaces are deserted. A part of me hoped we could just get all the evidence tonight and be done with this by tomorrow. But that was the spoiled rich kid in me, who despite having a hateful, tyrannical father still always got more than he needed whenever he wanted.
Watching a child get molested would be even worse than seeing nothing at all.
And I might have to watch that too, before this is over.
“I think we can safely call it a night,” Alice told me at around one AM, then sent me to sleep in my own motel room.
I couldn’t. Been tossing and turning all night, tweaking worse than after a weekend bender back home. And I haven’t touched anything stronger than alcohol in months. No, this indignation and restlessness is all because I can’t help Alice the way she needs to be helped. The way I know she needs to be helped.
At just before seven, I give up all hope of falling asleep. And all hope of finding the patience to do this Alice’s way.
But instead of telling her that, knowing how poorly she’ll take it, I call my cousin Matteo instead. He’s the only one who can talk me off a ledge and the calmer—saner—part of me knows it.
“What is it?” he asks groggily. “What’s wrong?”
He’s not exactly an early riser and with a heavily pregnant girlfriend and a business slash crime empire to rebuild, he needs his sleep. Too bad. He’s awake now. And I’m about to make it worse.
“I might have to kill the priest after all,” I tell him and can practically see his eyes shoot wide open as he inhales sharply.
