If I were smart, I’d throw my tote bag at Frankie and run in the other direction. I definitely wouldn’t be following a known mobster into the woods late at night. But I really like this bag. It has glitter on it. And a unicorn.
We pass the tree line and Frankie lets out a deep breath like he’s relaxing, which only make me nervous. Well more nervous. I was already a ball of nerves before he got out of the car. We walk for a few feet in silence. The paved trail is clear of any debris, so there’s no small branches snapping or leaves crinkling like you normally find when you’re in scary situations. The wind isn’t even blowing.
“So…” I search for anything to say. There are too many thoughts going on in my mind. If we’re talking, it’s easier to pretend we’re two friends on a stroll rather than the Big Bad Wolf leading me to my demise. All I’m missing is the red cape and basket of goodies.
“I thought the mob was dead.” Immediately after putting the period at the end of the sentence, my brain catches up with the words.
Stupid Anessa. I don’t know how guys in the mob feel about being referenced as “a guy in the mob”. Are we both supposed to pretend like we don’t know?
Thankfully rather than pointing a gun and shooting me, he laughs it off like I said the funniest thing in the whole world.
“I wouldn’t know since I have no affiliation with the mob.” His head tilts, and in the semi-lit way of the path, he winks. “From what I hear they’ve moved on to being legitimate business owners in areas that are more lucrative.”
“More lucrative than the mob business?”
“Oh yes. There are many fields. Accounting, imports and exports, delivery services.”
“And which field are you in?”
He smiles. “I like to dabble.”
“That’s reassuring.”
Frankie laughs. “I like you, Anessa. I don’t know whether to smack you on your kisser or kiss you on your smacker.”
“Did you just quote The Simpsons?” I ask when we come to a stop in the middle of the trail. Frankie obviously feels we’ve walked far enough in that Katy and Tabitha are no longer a threat.
His laughing continues. “One day you’ll learn that we aren’t all the uniforms we wear. A person is deeper than the first impression or rumors you’ve heard from someone else. I hope you may see me as more than a cartoon characterized villain. That’s who you expected, right? Fat Tony? Maybe someone from a Godfather movie?” Scarface?
The path is too dark and we’re standing too far apart to see if the words are said with a smile or a grimace, but I’m thankful for it anyway because he can’t see the way my cheeks heat at the truth of his words. I may not have made him out to be a cartoon character but I definitely expected a 1920s Italian mobster.
“You have my money, yes?” he asks looking at the large tote bag swinging from my arm.
“Right, the money. Yes, I brought both stacks.” In truth I didn’t need the large bag and am forced to stick my hand all the way to the bottom to get them out. But I couldn’t risk being seen around town carrying stacks of bills. Pearl would surely out me and then the whole town would know.
Frankie stares at the stacks of money and then at me and then at the stacks of money. “There seems to have been some miscommunication. I told Ridge it was double.”
“Forty thousand? But I don’t have that kind of money. I only have this money.” I push the two stacks closer to him.
His eyes slip further down my body taking his time. He leers at me in a disgusting fashion, which makes my body crawl. I’m uncomfortable for the first time rather than scared. I push the money into his chest, forcing him to take it.
“If you’d like I’m sure you could work it off in other ways.” The tone he uses on other ways leaves no room for doubt about what he means.
I step back.
“I don’t think she likes the idea of that, Z,” a thick heavy voice says from out of the woods.
I squint to see who it is.
“This is not your place, Dominic.”
The biker gang leader steps out of the tree line onto the concrete path. Behind him six other men follow, their guns all trained on Frankie. He doesn’t flinch or reach for a weapon of his own, but I freeze completely.
“I think it’s time Anessa gets home,” Dom says, and while I agree with him, his comment makes me bristle. What is up with these men and telling me what to do? It never fucking ends.
Frankie laughs like he’s done so many times tonight, but this one isn’t light. It’s dangerous and unnerving. “Anessa’s a big girl and can make her own choices.”
“Fine, then she can choose who she goes home with.”
