Page 78 of Capo
I freeze up, my stomach tightening. He’s right. I’m in real danger due to my relationship with Salvatore, that much is clear.
“What’s happening now?” I ask.
“We thought you were being held as some kind of revenge for that old fart you killed.”
“Man, that’s ages ago, and I didn’t kill him! He just… died.”
“Whatev—”
“And no. This shit is unrelated. I’m so sorry you guys got dragged into it.”
There’s a ruckus and then Charlie speaks. “You’re on loudspeaker. Fucking Chad wanting you to himself. You’re sorry? This is fucking awesome, dude. We got out. We’ve camped out in an apartment in downtown SF, gotten high, fucked some nice ass, run some errands for Mr. S, and now we get to fight.”
“Fight? Fight what?”
“Charlie! Shut the fuck up. I’m sorry,” says Chad. “We can’t talk about that.”
My heart slams and my mouth turns dry. “Is he pulling you into his fucking mob war? No! You can’t do that! He’ll get you killed! Tell him I’ll do anything!”
“Us? You tell him!”
“I can’t—”
“We wanna do this, though,” says Charlie. “It’s cool as all hell.”
“No! It’s not ‘cool’. It’s dangerous.”
“So is prison, sis,” says Chad. “I don’t think you know us that well anymore. We owe him one.”
“Chad! No! Fuck!” I pace back and forth, shoving my fingers through my hair. “Please. You don’t owe him one. He pulled you out of prison to keep me in check. He threatened to hurt you if I didn’t obey… Not the other way around. This was never about you. You don’t owe him anything. You should bash his teeth in if anything.”
“What the fuck?” says Charlie. “I knew there was something fishy going on. What did he have you do? Do you want us to kill him?”
“No!” I don’t want that. It’d put Chad and Charlie six feet under but… I also don’t want Salvatore dead. I want him here so I can claw his eyes out, and I also simply want the infuriating man here. “No. It’s… it’s really complicated. Don’t even think about trying. Just appreciate what he’s given you. I know I do. You’ve got clean slates now. Please don’t go and kill for him!”
“Christine,” says Chad. “I don’t think there’s much of a choice. Do you?”
I don’t know what to answer. He’s right. A draft makes me turn. Alessandra stands in the doorway, her eyes tender, a worried frown on her forehead.
“Please be careful,” I whisper. “I love you. Both.”
“Girl! Same.” Someone makes kissing sounds, and then the call is disconnected.
“Are you okay?”
I look at Alessandra then I throw my arms around her and burst into tears. “No,” I choke out.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“I can’t.”
“Okay. It’s okay. I’ve got you.”
It makes me cry even harder, feeling as if something tightens around my chest. No one’s ‘had me’ for as long as I can remember. No one has shown me this kindness, the relief in a simple wordless hug.