Page 9 of Sinful Bargains

He walked over confidently. “Looks like ya Chevy gave out on ya. Need a hand?”

I should say no. I should just walk a few miles up the road to the payphone and call someone. Anyone other than Joey. But the sun was beginning to set, and he was already here. And before I could protest, he tapped the car's hood and said, “Popthe hood, and I’ll take a look at it for you.” Like usual, he took it upon himself to help me from the karma being sent my way for the blood still lingering on my hands.

I hesitated as my fingers clenched around the wheel. My eyes flickered ahead at the sun beginning to hide behind the clouds, then back to him and that bright smile, and how he’s casually leaning against the driver’s side of my car like it was his. But I reached down and pulled the lever. I had to force myself not to giggle as he practically skipped towards the hood of the car, only to pull it up, and a plume of hot steam hit his face, causing him to back away and cough. I bite back my laughter. It would be wrong to laugh at him when he was only trying to help me. I stepped out of the car, crossing my arms over my chest, as I observed him take a brief look at the engine.

“Radiator’s shot,” he said. “This thing’s not going anywhere tonight.”

“I’ll call someone,” I said. I just wanted him to leave. He had been solving my problems and inserting himself into my life since I had landed on this island. I didn’t need him to solve this problem, too. I was capable of walking to the payphone and calling someone. I had people who would come and help me. I didn’t need Joey to always be the one. Nor did I want him to be.

He raised an eyebrow, leaning against the edge of the hood. “Closest payphone’s miles up the road. And unless you’ve got a spare radiator in your backseat, you’ll need a lot of help that Davidson can’t provide.”

I narrowed my eyes at him, suspicion clear in every line of my face.

He shrugged. “Let me help ya out.”

“Why?”

He chuckled softly. “Why not?”

“What do you suggest I do?”

“A guy I know runs a shop near here—Gino’s. He’ll tow it and fix it up for ya. He owes me a favor, anyway, so it’ll be of nochange to ya. But until it’s fixed, I’ll drive ya and your boy wherever you need to go.”

I shifted on my heels. I didn’t want to take him up on his offer. I wanted to flat-out refuse. But as my eyes glanced from the asphalt to his eyes, and back down, I couldn’t say no to him. And I despised myself for how weak I was in his presence. Since I had moved to Staten Island, Joey had shown up when I had nobody, inserting himself into my life like he was always a part of it. The last thing I wanted was to be indebted to a man, yet despite my best efforts to decline his offer, I relented.

I let out a small, defeated sigh. “Fine.”

He gestured towards his car, a 1959 Ferrari 400 Superamerica Series 1. Brand new and sparkling under the fluorescent street lamp. “Let’s go. I’ll call Gino when I get back home tonight.”

As he drove, the silence in the car was thick. I felt his eyes glance at me every few seconds, but my eyes remained straight ahead. I couldn’t help but notice he was going dangerously slow, likely to buy us more time. Something I didn’t want.

“You didn’t have to stop,” I finally said, eliminating our awkward silence.

“I figured you could use the help.”

“Why do you care so much?” I wanted to know. I needed to know why he cared so much about my life circumstances.

Our eyes met briefly before I turned away. “Sometimes, Adriana, people just do the right thing. And for nothing in return.”

I felt myself relax against the back of the seat. I didn’t trust Joey. Not yet. But I also had no reasonnotto trust him. And he had been so kind to me since I’d arrived on Staten Island. Giving him the cold shoulder made no sense. He didn’t have to help me get a job, a job that led me to getting the rental house. He didn’t have to stop when my car broke down, but he chose to help. Many cars passed me by, but he didn’t.

ANTONIO

Ma had woken me up earlier that morning to tell me Joey would pick me up and drive me to and from school. She had already left with Mr. Davidson, who came by to take her to open the corner store. When I heard the car horn beep outside, I grabbed my backpack and headed out the front door. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t thrilled to ride shotgun in a brand new Ferrari. It had a fresh, black paint job and cream interior seats. It was miles better than Mom’s old, beat-up blue Chevrolet.

“How you liking school?’ Joey asked me as I settled into the passenger seat.

“It’s better than my old school,” I told him.

“Where’d you guys move from again?” he asked as he drove slowly down the street. “Newark, right?”

“Yeah,” I said, shifting uncomfortably in my seat. The flashbacks crept in, threatening to overwhelm me, but I forced them down. Ma and I never talked about that night. I didn’t know if we ever would. She’d been through enough with my father—taking every punch, every hit, every broken rib. I used to wonder why she stayed, why she put up with his wrath for solong. But that night, I stood up to him. A bold move. And Ma had no choice but to stand with me. But now, neither of us could erase what happened. And talking about it? That wasn’t an option, either.

“Yeah, change can be good sometimes,” he said, nodding in agreement. “Staten Island’s quiet. Safe. A good place for you and your ma.”

“Yeah,” I replied, giving a slight nod. “It’s better with just the two of us. More peaceful. I like it this way.”

“How old are you anyway, kid?” He smiled at me briefly before his eyes returned to the road.

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