Page 57 of Remember When We
God, listen to me.
I said it, had thought it and now decided it.
I was going to Chicago with Gio like I should have done years ago, and we were going with our son.
It wasn’t even a week yet. Not even a week.
Not even a full week and here I was making all these decisions.
Decisions and choices.
I’d paid the money, the twenty grand. I was hoping it would keep me in Frankie’s good graces, if he had any. I fucking hoped he did, because deep down I was afraid he didn’t.
I grabbed my notebook too quickly and it fell off the counter sending the little tabs I’d put for indexes off the pages.
“Shit,” I gasped bending down and picking them up.
I’d tabbed the sections where I was keeping watch on certain trends. Like how I knew the summer brought more students in and the types of alcohol they liked. Now it would be all jumbled and I’d have to sort it out.
I was hoping to give the notebook to the new person who Gio got to look after the place. I had various notes too on numbers to call for maintenance, services, and even troubleshooting.
I gathered it all together and stood up, but as I did my back came up against a wall.
I gasped and turned, because there was no damn wall there.
No, there was no wall, but the man in front of me was built like it.
Frankie Santora stood there with a smirk on his face.
I hadn’t heard him come down the stairs.
Why didn’t I hear him?
My heart slammed at the sight of him as I remembered the fact that he’d been involved in Marshall’s murder. Him or one of his family members it was all the same to me.
They were all the same.
Truly despicable.
Instantly, my heartbeat sped up and my hands started trembling.
I wondered …
Had the Santoras known that Marshall was related to us when Dad borrowed the money from them?
How did it happen?
I knew these people could just kill. They killed ruthlessly and mindlessly.
Me alone down here with him was not good either.
“Shame you got up. I was enjoying the view of your perfect ass.” He leaned forward and leered. I stepped back away from him.
Sure enough the asshole stepped forward.
“What are you doing down here?” I asked. I wanted to ask him what the fuck he was doing here in the bar, but thought better of it. I couldn’t fight this guy. I couldn’t even when I had tried really hard the last time he cornered me. I just had to stand up against a fucking wall letting him touch me and lick my face.
It was abuse, bullying. It was fucked up.
