Romeo of the Streets (26 page)

“You were always the smart one,” he said finally and, kissing my forehead, released his grip. His face turned serious as he looked to Romeo. “Ok, we better get out of here,” he said. “The gap between this building and the next is only a foot or two across to the other side. I found an open window a few floors down, looks like it leads into somebody’s apartment down there. I think we can make it.”

“Nice work,” Romeo said, and together we made our way towards the stairwell door.

Before we entered, Lou paused, glancing back into the chaos of the night, the flashing lights, the sirens and shouts from down on the street—a theatre of chaos and violence that now at last we might finally be able to escape from.

“You did it then,” my brother said, his voice quiet as he looked at his friend, “you killed Sal.”

“I didn’t want to,” Romeo answered.

“I know,” Lou said, “Ferret... I had to, I had no choice, but… It’s not like how I would have imagined. I always wondered if I even had it in me, but now that I know…”

“I know,” Romeo said, “you wish it could have been different.”

Lou nodded somberly and I placed my hand on his arm. “Hey,” I said, “I saw you on the CCTV, you did what you had to. If it had been the other way around—if they had you instead of me—well, I would have done the exact same thing. And besides, you should have seen what they did to Lisa when they came to her apartment.”

Lou’s eyes turned cold and hard in an instant. “Lisa?” he said, “is she ok?”

“She’s fine,” I smiled, “probably a little shook up. But fine—compared to the rest of us anyway. Let’s just go get her, ok?”

“Sounds like a plan,” Lou said and stepped down into the dim light of the stairwell below.

With my hand in Romeo’s, we followed after him. There was only one missing component and then our little family would be complete again. Whatever happened next, we could figure it out together.

The light of the new morning sun spilled through the blinds—not orange, but clear and golden—and it was so bright that, had they actually spent any time sleeping during the two or three hours that they’d been at the motel, it may well have woken them. But they had not, instead choosing to spend their restful hours in the hot and fervent embrace of each other’s arms. They had waited long enough for each other—waited a lifetime—and they could not wait any longer. In fact, if they hadn’t had to stop to rest by necessity one of them would have suggested it anyway. Lisa and Lou could understand, their own love was as strong, if not so new and unbridled in its passions.

They had left Chicago—Lou, Lisa, Sandy and Don—in Lisa’s sister’s car, a loan that Lisa would have to explain after the fact, after they abandoned it somewhere and purchased a new one with even less traceability to the lives they’d previously led. Her sister would be mad but she’d get over it. Probably she would be more concerned about Lisa than mad even and that was unfortunate but unavoidable. They were all leaving something behind, all leaving somebody who cared for them—save perhaps for Romeo, who was only leaving behind Lana and the FBI and indeed the persona of Romeo Mancini himself.

Now they would all have to choose new names and Sandy knew, as she watched his naked body in the laddering light of new morning, exactly who she’d be. She would call herself Dawn—both to symbolize rebirth and as a way to take the name of the man she loved—Don.

He stretched languidly, his body toned and firm, muscular but also wounded and marked by the welts and bruises of the terrible torture that he’d so recently endured. She knew that his soul too had been equally scarred and that might take a little longer to heal, but she would be a patient and understanding partner along that journey of recovery. She would be by his side every step of the way.

He walked to the dresser and poured out a glass of apple juice from the jug beside the twin envelopes, one marked for Sandy’s mother and the other for Gino (and the latter containing directions to the small fortune of ill-gotten gains that they’d stashed for him to take care of himself and Mrs. Guilianno now that they couldn’t stay there to do it themselves). The liquid in his glass appeared effervescent in the fragile light of morning and he held it in his hand thoughtfully for a moment before drinking, his slender throat bobbing with each slow gulp as he did. As she watched him, she could still feel his touch on her arms, his taste on her lips, and she still stung from that beautiful, incredible union they’d shared. For having waited so long she’d certainly made up for it—she was now no longer a virgin three times over.

Her man returned to their bed, leaning down to stroke back a lock of her hair, slightly damp from the sweat of their earlier passion.

“Would you like to drink?” he asked and she nodded, smiling, allowing him to guide the glass to her lips. It was cool, sweet and tart, a taste that made her want to giggle uncontrollably for some reason that she couldn’t quite understand.

“We should go soon,” he said, “the roads will be quiet now and they’ll be looking for us.”

“I know,” she smiled, making no effort to get up or even to move at all.

Next door they heard the sound of labored movements and their eyes met.

“I hope we didn’t keep them up
all
night,” he smiled and she laughed, covering her face with the pillow to hide her embarrassment.

“How could any of us sleep anyway?” she said, “Jeez, what a night—my mind is still racing.”

“I know. Hopefully that’s the end of it now, the end of all the trouble and danger. Sometimes I thought it would never end.”

She reached out and ran her thumb along his chin. Even with his bruises he was still the most handsome man she’d ever known and it pained her to see what they had done to him, the horrors they had put him through.

“We’ll go soon,” she said, “though we’ll have to sleep eventually. But first, just lie here with me for a moment longer, ok? Let’s just enjoy it before we have to go back out into the madness of it all.”

“Eventually there’ll be no madness,” he said and she moved back to allow him entry into the bed.

Cuddling up against him, she closed her eyes as she buried her head in his big, strong chest. “I hope so,” she said, “but you know there’s always going to be something.”

He placed his arms around her and pulled her close, lovingly, into the warm strength of his embrace. “Well,” he said, “it’s a good thing we have each other then, isn’t it?”

Outside, the sound of the day’s first traffic was already joining the highway, though the song of the birds maintained its place as the true symphony of morning and the light of the sun, so strong and nourishing already, promised that it would be a beautiful day. It was spring and new life was beginning.

Phew… ok, if there’s one thing scarier than writing your first novel and sending it out into the world like a feeble baby bird fluttering out of the nest for the first time, it’s standing up to actually take responsibility for the offspring that you’ve just released. So I guess if “
Romeo of the Streets”
is the beautiful (I hope so anyway!) newborn little bird, then that would make this bit the messy gloop left behind in the egg (please don’t wretch!). This is how this sausage gets made. This is
me
—Taylor Hill, at your service.

Before I started the book that you’ve just read, I got a lot of advice about how to approach my first novel—some of it great, some it terrible and some of it just downright bizarre—and I have tried to sort the chaff from the wheat in crafting this thing and, if nothing else, I’m confident at least that I did my best. I believe that that’s all you can ever expect from yourself and the rest is just practice, patience and a never-ending education (the kind that takes place
outside
of the classroom).

I know it’s not perfect (what is?), I feel for example that I could have told more to this story, but one of the axioms I decided to adhere to was the idea that you should keep it short and sweet with your debut book before introducing yourself to the world and all the readers who have no idea what to expect from you yet. After all, with all the distractions and competing forms of entertainment in this modern world, I consider it an honor and a privilege just to have someone read and engage with my work even for the first couple of chapters. And so, to those of you who took the time and made the commitment to actually read the whole book, from the bottom of my being, I offer my heartfelt thanks. (I only hope you enjoyed it!)

But still, I don’t feel like I’m finished with Sandy, Don (or whatever name he goes by these days), Lou and Lisa, and the perilous world that they come from. In fact, soon I’ll be releasing a collection of short stories that serve as spin-offs to this novel (or fries and soda for the Big Mac currently in your hands, if you like). These deal with a variety of subject matters, including what happened to Sandy’s roommate Rebecca in Italy, a closer look at the tense relationship between Candy the superhero stripper and that nasty piece of work Sal Falcone, and a trip back in time to when Sandy’s dad, Gino and Sandy’s mom were all youngsters getting up to hijinks that would make Sandy herself blush (well maybe). Those were a lot of fun to write and if you want more from the world of “
Romeo of the Streets
” then you should check ‘em out after this. They’ll be available from Choco Lune Imprint and if you want me to notify you when they come out you can hit me up on the email address below. (Maybe I’ll even send them to you for free in digital form, in exchange for reviews or something, try me!).

As for what’s next for the gang, I already have the bones of a sequel mapped out (if you’re interested that is. If so, let me know and I’ll keep you posted). In the follow up, the guys have settled in LA, where Sandy puts that mighty brain of hers to work writing screenplays under an assumed name and they all get down to making their new life together work. Unfortunately, LA isn’t far enough to escape the claws of an international organization like the Mafia—Lou in particular finds it difficult to avoid the temptation and excitement of the criminal life—and when a few unexpected faces from the distant past (both for Sandy and Don separately) resurface, the guys find themselves facing more danger and disaster than anything that they went through before, all against the dark and glittery back-drop of Tinsel Town. I’m pretty excited about it and like I said, if you’re interested in hearing more about the project then drop me a line and we can chat about it. I’d love to hear your input!

Finally I’d like to ask you for a favor, depending on what you thought of the book. If you liked it, then I’d really appreciate it if you take the time to write a short review on Amazon and Goodreads so that other people might get a chance to take a look. These days without that kind of help from the readers most books don’t stand a chance, so if you do decide to do that, send me an email to let me know and I’ll get back to you personally to offer my thanks.

Secondly, if you
didn’t
like the book (please don’t hit me), would you consider sending me an email to tell me why, so that I can improve my craft and work harder to make my stories better in future? I don’t believe anybody has the right to just stand up and get people to listen to them without first proving themselves as somebody who actually has something meaningful to say, so any advice you can give me on how to do what I do better will be met gratefully and graciously.

Ok, that’s about it then. Thank you again so much for joining me on this ride, I hope we can do it again sometime. You know where to find me.

All the best,

Taylor Hill

Taylorh
[email protected]

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