DeLuca (Mafia Romance)

Angelo and I made our way up the stairs to the apartment where Mike, the dealer that had been selling Gina pills, lived. Angelo signaled for me to stay back but I ignored him, brushing past him to bang on the front door. There was shuffling from inside, then the sound of something crashing to the ground before the door swung open to reveal a skinny guy in his mid-twenties wearing nothing but gym shorts. I pushed my way inside with Angelo close on my heels. I took stock of the apartment, it was small. The living room, bedroom and kitchen were all one space with a small door in the corner that I assumed led to the bathroom. His bed was separated from the rest of the room by a cheap Asian inspired privacy screen. An old couch sat predominately in the center of the room in front of a giant plasma screen TV. The rest of the place was sparsely furnished. If his home was any indication he wasn’t an exceptionally successful drug dealer.

“Can I help you?” he drawled, obviously stoned. So that’s where all his money went. Hadn’t he ever heard that you’re not supposed to dip into your own stash?

“As a matter of fact, Mike, you can,” I said stalking towards him, the look on my face must have given away the anger that was raging inside of me because he kept backing away from me until he hit the couch. I kept my steady advance on him, never breaking eye contact. When I was toe to toe with him I continued, “You have been selling to my friend Gina,” I seethed, pushing him backwards onto the couch so that I was standing over him.

“Who? Look lady, I sell to a lot of people. I don’t know who your friend is.” While he appeared to be apprehensive of me his tone was still lazy with whatever drug he’d taken.

“Yes you do. From what she told me, she’s been buying from you for a while now. Petite, brown hair, and big boobs with an attitude to match.”

“What do you want?” he asked again.

“What I want is for you to stop selling to her.”

“Dude, people come to me with money and I give them what they want. I’m not the fucking Po Po, okay? I’m not going to turn down money because you don’t want your friend popping pills.”

“So you do remember her. I don’t like it when people lie to me, Mike.” I pulled out a knife from my boot and leaned forward into his space, “Let’s try this again, shall we? You’re going to stop selling to Gina, aren’t you?” I asked placing the tip of my knife at the base of his throat. He swallowed hard but didn’t say anything so I continued, “Because if you don’t, me and my friend over here,” I gestured to where Angelo was standing a few feet behind me, “are going to be back, and it will not end well for you if we have to come back to this shit hole. Understand?”

“Yeah, okay. I won’t sell to her anymore,” he said, his voice strained from the effort it took not to move his neck too much where my knife was digging into his skin.

“Good,” I said, pushing the knife in just a little bit harder, causing the skin to break and a small drop of blood to appear emphasizing my point, before I leaned away taking my knife with me. Satisfied that he would never sell to Gina again, I left.

Two weeks later I walked in on Gina passed out cold on the bathroom floor. She had mixed alcohol and pills and nearly killed herself. After the doctors pumped her stomach and gave me the all clear that she would be okay I dodged out on Angelo and left the hospital headed straight for Mike’s house.Exclusive content © by Nô(v)el/Dr/ama.Org.

I walked right into the motherfucker’s apartment. He lived in a shitty little place not far from campus and from my last visit I knew he lived alone. Sure enough he was sitting on his couch in front of the TV in his underwear when I walked in. A quick survey of the small studio confirmed he was alone. I hadn’t come with a weapon, just with the knowledge that I had given this fucker a second chance and now he was going to die.

He jumped up from his place on the couch when I burst through his front door.

“Sit the fuck down you piece of shit!” I said, stalking over to him.

He refused, instead, remaining on his feet. “Get the fuck out of my house you crazy bitch!” he yelled back at me. His voice was clear, he was sober this time.

“I fucking warned you, and you didn’t take me seriously, your mistake,” I flipped the cheap particle board coffee table over and to the side, gaining unobstructed access to where the fucker was standing in front of the couch. My actions must have made more of an impact than my words because he moved to run around me for the front door. “Oh, hell no motherfucker!” I grabbed his left arm as he tried to pass me, twisting it up and behind his back. Kicking at the backs of his knees until he dropped to the floor. This angle gave me better leverage, with a jerk I dislocated his shoulder causing the little weasel to cry out in pain. I pushed him down until he was lying flat on his stomach and continued to crank at his injured shoulder. “Tell me right now and this is as far as this goes, did you sell to Gina again?”

“She came to me, I swear!”

“That wasn’t the fucking agreement. I warned you what would happen if you sold to her again.” I said my voice tranquil, masking the fury building inside of me.

“But you just said-”

“I lied. Just like you,” I spotted a baseball bat in the corner, snatching it up, I beat him until my arms couldn’t lift the bat anymore.

Again, I found myself staring down at the bludgeoned body of a man that had crossed me. The scene was much the same as the one in my kitchen all those months ago, and again, I felt no guilt, no remorse whatsoever. Instead the tingling sensation of satisfaction prickled across my skin. This anger inside of me, when unleashed, was lethal. It felt good, cathartic even. It was at that point I started to realize that this was who I was, it was in my blood.

Jesus, what the hell is wrong with me?

This was the first time I’d killed without being in a defensive situation. It was with intent. It was murder.

…

A month later we were on our way home. I had graduated but decided not to walk. I didn’t need the fanfare, and I had gotten my degree, which was all I cared about. As soon as we landed Sal was going to take Gina to a rehab facility, ninety days to dry-out and get some counseling. With any luck when she came back for the last part of summer she would be her normal self and ready to go back to school on her own.

I reached over and tucked Gina’s hand into my own. She turned her head and smiled at me, she looked like hell. I would have preferred for her to go to rehab a month ago but she insisted that she finish out final exams and do rehab closer to home. I understood. She didn’t want to be that far away from family, and even though we wouldn’t be able to see her or contact her for the first thirty days just knowing we were close was a comfort.

“Love you,” I whispered.

“Love you, too,” she whispered back and closed her eyes.