“It looks like it’s been a long time since someone’s been down here,” she remarks, running her fingers along the layer of dust covering everything.
“That’s a good thing… it means more people no about it.” I smooth my hand over Lola’s head, wishing things could stay exactly this way, but deep down know that she’s going to wake up and eventually I’m going to have to tell her the whole truth, not just about our pasts, but about my family’s, Frankie’s, her mother’s. And I’m worried that she’s never going to talk to me again. And I’m not sure if I can handle her out of my life again. It nearly killed me the first time.
Chapter 12
Lola
When I open my eyes, I have no idea where I am. In a bed, yes, but where I have no idea. There are people talking someone so I don’t dare move, lying there stirring in my own panic. It feels warm around me, like I have a blanket over me and the air smells like wood and damp earth.
Finally, after lying there for an eternity, I open my eyes. The light stings my eyes and I blink several times until my vision comes into focus. I’m in some kind of storage room with no windows and a lot of shelves with can goods on then. I make out Layton and Solana sitting in fold up chairs not too far away from me, their guns on their laps, having an intense conversation with each other.
I discretely reach around to get my gun out of my jeans but it’s not there. As slowly as I can, I move my arm downward to my boot and draw out my knife, knowing it’s going to be useless against their guns. Then I take a deep breath and before I can back out, I throw the blanket off me and spring up from the bed.
When my clunky boots hit the wooden floor, they both look over at me, Solana seeming unsurprised and Layton appearing uneasy. “Lola, just calm down and let me explain,” he says, putting his hands up, eyeing the knife in my hand.
“Five seconds,” I tell him with the knife pointed out in front of me.
“Five seconds and what?” Layton asks, gradually setting his gun on the floor.
“Five seconds to give me a good explanation as to why the fuck you tranquilized me and what the hell is going on. And if you can’t, I’ll slit your throats and run.” I’m being a little over dramatic, I know it, but I need to get some answers.
Layton struggles for words. “Lola I… we need to… you and I—”
“Oh for the love of God.” Solana tosses her gun to the side, gets up and crosses the room in three long strides. She grabs the knife out of my hand, and chucks it on the floor as well. “He tranquilized you because you’re easier to save when you’re passed out, since you’re pathetic when it comes to protecting yourself. And what’s going on is that you have Frankie Catherlson, the Dellefontes, and the Everett’s all wanting to kill you. So congratulations. You’re probably the most wanted women in mafia history at the moment.”
“The Everett’s.” Baffled, I glance over to Layton in shock. “Is that true? Does your family want to kill me too?”
He reluctantly nods then gets up from his chair and takes a few cautious steps toward me, the floorboards creaking under his weight. “I’ve been wanting to tell you, but I didn’t know how.”
“It doesn’t make sense,” I say, wondering what part Solana plays in all this. Layton says she was sent to kill me, but she hasn’t, so why. And who sent her if there’s three of them who want me dead? “I mean, I understand why the Dellefontes want me dead... And Frankie I guess. But why you’re family?”
“For the same reason as Frankie does.” He spats Frankie’s name venomously.
“For revenge on my father,” I say but he nods. “But what does your father have against my father? I thought they got along for the most part?”
“They don’t, at all… haven’t for a long time…” He trails off, shaking his head as he closes the space between us. There are bags under his eyes, his hair is sticking up all over the place, and he looks strung out. “Lola, I lied about why Frankie’s men are after you… I was afraid to tell you the real reason since my family is a part of it, since they have a hit on you too. I didn’t think you’d trust me, especially after all the lies already.”
“A part of what exactly?” I look from Layton to Solana who shrugs.
“Don’t look at me,” she says, backing away from me. “It’s his job to tell you.”
“But it’s your story,” Layton tell her. “You should be the one—”
“I don’t want to talk about what happened to me.” She cuts him off and for a moment a fire flames in her eyes, emotions so powerful I feel it in my own gut. Anger. She’s angry over something.
She picks up her gun and her jacket then heads for the stairway. “I’m going to go check on things. Have fun kids.” And with that, she leaves Layton and I alone as she trots up the stairs and disappears.
“So are you the one who’s going to do it?” I pick up my knife from the floor and wipe some dust off the blade. I wonder how many times I’ll have to question everything, question my life, question the truth. As long as I’m connected to the mafia world, I’m sure questioning will always be a necessity. I wish I could just disconnect myself.
Layton’s appalled by my statement. “What? No. God, Lolita, I wish you’d quit saying that.” He rubs his hand down his face and then releases a stressed breath. “Can I at least hold you while I tell you?”
I pull a wary face, shaking my head. “You know that’s never been my thing.”
“I know, but I need it right now.” He extends his hand toward me. “Please.”
I eye his hand for a while, then finally take it. Our fingers lace together, the contact of him surging to my body as he guides me to one of the chairs. When he sits down, he pulls me down on his lap without asking first. “You remember they day your… mother died?” he starts, his arms wrapping around my waist. “And how the Dellefontes, the Catherlson’s, and my family was all there at your house?”
I nod, remembering how they all just looked at my father holding my dead mother in his arms. Instead of helping him, they simply left. “How could I forget? It was one of the worst day’s of my life.”
“Well, they were there for a meeting.” He brushes his fingers through a strand of my hair and tucks it behind my ear. “A potential business offer for your father, but he wouldn’t take it because of your mother.”
“What kind of a business offer?” I glance at the stairway where Solana disappeared. “I’m guessing it has to do with Solana and that school she was sent to.”
His body stiffens. “That’s not really a school so much as a warehouse to breed… murdered, assassins, whatever you want to call them.”
My jaw drops. I’ve heard a lot of shit in my life, seen a lot of bad stuff. Death. Murder. Dishonestly. Back stabbing. But this. This is disgusting. “Wait a minute, when you say breed, what exactly do you mean?” I think I already know though and it makes me sick just thinking about it.
“I mean they take young children and train them to be killers.” He pauses and I can hear his pulse hammering. “And they also breed. They have women there who are being kept there against their will to have children with good bloodlines who are to be raised in that environment. Then when they get old enough, the sell them off.”