The hunt, p.33
The Hunt, page 33
The screen went blank.
Tears were running down my cheeks. I whispered, “When did you get this?”
“A couple of days ago.”
“And you’re just showing it to me now?”
Chris said, “You weren’t speaking to me a couple of days ago.”
I looked up at him. I could barely find my voice. “Are they really okay?”
“As far as I know, yes.”
“Can you tell me what’s going on?”
“You know what’s going on. They took your son because Devek owes money.”
“They kidnapped Devek as well?”
“Something like that.” Chris put his phone down on the nightstand.
“When will it be over?” I asked.
“I don’t know. They’re waiting on more money from me. I’m waiting on a few things.”
“What things?”
“Things that take time. I told you in the beginning that this wasn’t an instant fix. So far, so good. I’m doing my best, but no promises.”
“Do you know where they are?”
“Other than India, no.”
“Could you find out?”
“I could, but then what?” He put his arm around my shoulders and drew me closer. “Your little boy is under constant guard. I can tell you that much. Baby, he can’t outrun a bullet.”
I nodded, trying desperately to hold back tears. “He looks happy.”
“He does.”
“Can you send it to me? The video?”
“No,” Chris told me. “It’ll make you too emotional. It’s not good for you, it’s not good for Juleen, and, frankly, it’s not good for me.”
“Can I see it again?”
He gave me a look but retrieved his phone and the video. He pressed the play arrow.
And then the tears came in buckets. For my little boy who was snatched from me, for my big boy whom I had abandoned when he still needed me, for my sweet girl confined to a room in a brothel, for my life that could have been a lot better. But it also could have been worse. Whatever it could have been, it was mine and it was useless to live in regrets. I gave him back the phone and snuggled closer to him. “Thank you, my love. Thank you, thank you, thank you.”
“You’re very welcome.” He put his phone down and wiped my tears with his thumbs. “I know I do horrible things. I say horrible things. But I do adore you. And I want to make you happy.” A beat. “Should we get some sleep, baby doll?”
It was a little after seven. “I’m too wired. You sleep.”
“I have a business meeting at eleven,” he said. “I’ve set the alarm for ten-thirty.” He stroked my arm. “Stay with me until then, angel.”
How could I possibly refuse him? We went under the sheets, and he brought me close to his body. His hands were around my waist and he was nuzzling my neck. I was exhausted but awake, trying to hold back the nausea you feel when you’ve had inadequate rest. I felt his breathing slow. I said, “Thank you again.”
“My pleasure.” His voice was sleepy.
My eyes were still wide open. “You know what would cheer me up?”
He looped his leg around mine and pulled me closer. “What?”
“A big bouquet of flowers.”
A pause. “Roses?”
“Yes, please, but also lilies and peonies and orchids. Just a huge bouquet that I could put on the dresser. Something beautiful and colorful that would brighten up the room.”
“No problem.” He kissed the back of my neck, then didn’t talk. I thought he had fallen asleep. But then he said, “Do you want the necklace also?”
“Thank you, Your Majesty, that would be divine.”
CHAPTER 24
I DIDN’T HEAR ANYTHING until the alarm went off at three-thirty in the afternoon, my reminder that it was time to visit Juleen. But I knew I’d been having bad dreams because my heart was racing and I was in a cold sweat. I was disoriented, panicked that I was not with my children in my Los Angeles apartment, until slowly, slowly things came into view. The bedroom was empty, the curtain was still drawn, and after last night, I felt exhausted, mentally and physically. I dragged my body out of bed and put on one of my loose Manson girl dresses. When I walked into the living area of the suite, Chris was sitting on the couch, typing on a laptop. He took off his glasses, glanced at his Rolex, and looked at me. He said, “You’ve been sleeping for a while.”
“I don’t feel well.” I gave myself a mental shake. “I’ll be okay. Can you take me to see Juleen?”
“Maybe you should cancel?”
“No, no. I’m just a bit logy. Let’s go.”
He gave me a look and took me to see my daughter.
I lasted until nine. I called him to take me back. I headed straight for the bedroom.
He said, “You didn’t eat anything.”
“I’m not hungry.” I pulled the bedsheets over my head. The next time I woke up, he was coming in from working. I muttered out for the time.
“Three-fifteen. How are you feeling?”
“Okay.” I sprayed minty droplets down my throat and rolled onto my back.
“You’re sure about this?” he said.
“I’m fine.” He was quick, and I was grateful. Afterward, as I was lying in his arms, he said, “Anything I can do for you, baby?”
I didn’t mind having sex with him. That was the deal we struck when I came back to him three years after high school—sex for support. I could close my eyes and be far, far away. But at the moment, his lugubrious voice made me cringe. “I’m okay, but thanks.”
I got up to wash off. When I came back, I went to the other side of the bed and buried myself in the covers.
He finally spoke. “You’re still pissed at me.”
And of course I was. When I was married to him, I was so used to being sexually mistreated, it felt almost normal. But after eleven years with Devek, eleven years of a reprieve, I realized just how utterly abusive he had been. I was seething inside. But, if I wanted to see my son again, I had no choice but to swallow the indignity. Seeing Sanjay in that video gave me infinite heartache, but it also gave me hope. I said, “I’m fine, Chris. I’m just tired.”
“And that’s why you’re on the other side of the canyon?”
“I’m not myself,” I said. “I need space.”
He was quiet. Then he said, “Do you also need all the bedcovers?”
I picked my head up. The duvet was falling off my side of the bed. “Oh, sorry …” I yanked the heavy bedcovers off the floor and gave him his fair share. “Sorry.”
“S’right. Just want to know the rules.” I didn’t answer. A moment later, he said, “You want to talk about it?”
“There’s nothing to talk about. I’m not mad. Let’s just go to sleep.”
A sigh. “Okay … I’ll take you at your word.”
The next thing I remember was someone shaking me. My heart was beating out of my chest. Chris’s voice. “… having a bad dream.”
I slowly roused. “A nightmare.” My eyes were wet. I was panting. “Did I wake you up?”
“Your arms were flailing. You bonked me in the face.”
“I’m sorry.”
“No prob. Are you all right?”
“Yeah …” I rubbed my eyes. Tears streamed down my cheeks. “Sorry.”
“Stop apologizing. Do you remember what you were dreaming?”
“I was … being beaten. I was defending myself. Probably why I was moving my arms.” He was silent. I said, “Sorry.”
“Forget it!” A pause. “Was it me?”
I thought, then shook my head, then grasped that he probably couldn’t see me. “No.” I wiped my eyes. “It was someone Indian. Not Devek … but someone.”
He said, “I realize I’m not your favorite person right now, but if you want a little physical comfort, I’m here.”
I didn’t answer him.
He added, “I don’t mean sex, Terry. Just … comfort.”
I bit my lip and scrunched my eyes to stop crying. I didn’t move. I couldn’t move.
He hesitated, then he came to me, until my back was tucked against his chest. He wrapped me with his limbs. He had shaven. He smelled good. He kissed the back of my neck. It was like stepping into a warm bath. “You’re safe, angel. No one’s going to hurt you. Not as long as I’m around. I will protect you with everything in my power, including my life.”
“Thank you.” I wiped my cheeks. Despite my antipathy toward him, the solace was reassuring. “Juleen too?”
“Of course Juleen too.”
I didn’t talk for a moment. Then I said, “Do you like her?”
“What?”
“Juleen … Do you like her?”
He paused, then said, “I think she’s a good kid.”
“Thank you.” But he hadn’t answered the question. “Do you like her?”
He exhaled. “What I feel is irrelevant, baby doll. She’s important to you so she’s important to me.”
“So, you don’t like her?”
“Teresa, I don’t like anyone. On the other hand, I don’t dislike anyone. To me, people are just … tools. They help me get what I want, and if they don’t help me, they’re useless and I throw them away in my mental trash can. Like Mike Badger. I know he’s an asshole, but he has things that I want, so I’m nice to him. He thinks we’re friends.” A derisive chuckle. “When I get what I want out of him, he’s history. Same with my employees. They are constantly telling me their problems. I listen like any good therapist, because it makes them feel better, and when they feel better, they work better. I don’t give a shit if their mothers are dying of cancer or their kids are sick. While they’re talking to me, I nod sympathetically. But in my head, my brain’s going: ‘What’s this gonna cost me?’”
I didn’t say anything. Then I said, “What about the Deckers? Are they just tools?”
“Of course. We owe them because of Gabe … like a debt. When Decker calls, asks for help, I try to accommodate him. Once I feel I’ve paid him off, it’s over.”
“Oh, sure,” I said. “And that’s why you took a bullet for Rina?”
He was silent. Then he said, “Rina’s spooky. She can read minds. Like she has this direct pipeline upstairs. I want to keep on her good side. When it’s all over, we’ll be going to different places. But maybe she can put in a good word for me.”
I smiled, but he couldn’t see it. Which was probably good. He sounded serious. I said, “What about Gabe?”
“Gabe is my son. I would die for him.” A pause. “I admire Gabe. He’s had some tough times, but he’s done well and he’s his own man. But if I never saw him again, I wouldn’t miss him much.”
Then I said, “What about me?”
“Yeah, you.” He was quiet. “Do you remember our conversation when you dumped me?”
“I asked you for the drawings, and you wouldn’t give them to me.”
“No, the second time. Right after we graduated high school.”
“You mean the time you tried to kill me?”
“I didn’t try to kill you.”
“You shot at me.”
“Exactly. I shot at you. At is the operative word. If I had wanted to kill you, you would have been dead.”
“You could have missed.”
“Not at that range … We’re getting far afield. Do you remember our conversation?”
I sighed. “We talked about the gigs—”
“After that.”
I thought a moment. “You said that if I talk about the gigs to anyone, you’d kill me—”
“Before that.”
“You have a very specific time frame in mind.” I thought a moment. “You said something about a pit bull … that if the pit bull was trained to kill, was it the dog’s fault if he did what he was trained to do.”
“Right on the cheddar.”
I waited.
“Only I’m not a pit bull, I’m a Neapolitan Mastiff. You know what that is?”
“I know what a mastiff is.”
“Not an English Mastiff. A Mastino is different. It’s a big motherfucking dog with an enormous head and a massive body. Mine was around a hundred and seventy pounds of pure bone and muscle—and drool.” He chuckled. “Duke died about six months ago. I was thinking about getting another one, but then you came along and I figured it wasn’t the right time.”
“You named your dog Duke?”
“Ducati Italiano. Duke for short.”
“Oh.” I shrugged. “I like dogs. Don’t let me stop you.”
“Mastinos are not regular dogs, Terry. Not only are Mastinos very wary of strangers, a lot of them attach to just one person. For Duke that one person was me. He was better than my gun because he reacted quicker and on instinct. He was fiercely protective and would have died for me, but he treated everyone else like a potential dinner.” A pause. “I am your Mastino. I will protect you to my death because I am attached to you. But only you. It’s always been only you. For better or worse.”
“But for me, you’ll protect Juleen, right?”
“Absolutely.”
“And Sanjay too?”
“And Sanjay too. I will do everything in my power to get your son and protect your kids because I love you utterly and completely. I may have something missing upstairs, but there aren’t many guys who would shell out millions of hard-earned dollars on other men’s children just to make their women happy—especially since the kids are from the man who stole my wife.”
That was the truth. Whatever he was, he rescued me. “Thank you, Chris. I mean it.”
“No thanks necessary, baby. Just please stop being pissed at me. It’s not my fault, Terry. I’m a dog—an unneutered male. My mind is basically occupied with three things: feeding, fighting, and fucking. Sometimes finances. Beyond that, I don’t give a shit about anything. So, pet me and give me treats and I’ll be your loyal companion for life.” He exhaled and hugged me. “Can we please have makeup sex?”
“No.”
“Can we do something sexual?”
“No.”
“Can you watch me while I do it to myself?”
“Eww. Gross. No!”
“Can I watch you while you do it to yourself?”
“No.”
“Can I pay you?”
“You mean like one of your sex workers?”
“I only give them their cut and tips. I’ll pay you the entire amount.”
“No.”
“Can I buy you something to persuade you? Like a diamond ring?”
I held up my left hand.
“Can I buy you a house?”
“You’re going to do that anyway.”
“Can I beg like a pathetic dog?”
“No.”
“Can I lick the dirt off your feet while you tell me everything I’ve done wrong in my life?”
“No. It would take too long.”
“You win.” He sighed. “I’m a broken man.”
“Go to sleep.”
Ten minutes passed and my brain was still whirling. One thought leaping to another. A minute later, I asked, “How many women did you sleep with while I was mad at you?”
“Ah, so that’s what—”
“I have multiple reasons to be angry with you, Donatti. Just answer the question.”
“Jealous?”
I turned over to face him. “Answer the question.”
“Zee-ro.” Silence. “I’ve haven’t touched anyone since you got here. And I won’t touch anyone until you leave. I told you that.”
“Your word isn’t worth anything.”
“Terry, if I fooled around while you were still here, the girls would have told you.”
“Yeah, right! Narc on the boss.”
He paused. “You know, if I had hooked up with anyone else, my ladies would have torn her to shreds. But they know you’re different. You’re older—”
“Thanks a lot.”
“To me you’re the most beautiful woman in the world, but your age is a fact.”
“Keep digging that grave.”
He ignored me. “You’re older, you’re a doctor, you were my wife, we have a son and over twenty-five years of history together. They know they can’t compete against that. So they’ve taken you as one of their own. They look after each other, Terry. That means they look after you. In their eyes, it would have been disrespectful. They would have been mad at me. You would have been mad at me. I’m an amoral guy, but sometimes things, even sex, aren’t worth the hassle.”
WEDNESDAY MORNING, DECKER showered, shaved, and dressed. He was ready to greet the day and walked into the kitchen just as the coffee machine beeped. As thank-you gifts for their hospitality, the kids had picked up a variety of fresh jams from a farmers’ market on the way to the house. Decker opened one of the jars and slathered rich marmalade onto his toast. Rina was on the phone with a real estate broker from New York, trying to negotiate a rock-bottom price for a bigger apartment for Hannah and Rafi. She was determined to get a good deal for the kids.
When she hung up, Decker said, “How’s it going?”
“It’s a buyer’s market in New York.” She poured herself a mug of java. “I’ve just got to convince the sellers of the situation.”
“Some people are very stubborn.”
“Indeed.” For her jam choice, Rina decided on raspberry. After saying the ritual blessing, she took a bite of toast and sat down. “Last weekend was nice.”
“It was fun seeing all the grandchildren.” Decker exhaled. “I can’t believe how big the twins got.”
“Length, yes; girth, they’ve got a way to go.”
“Yeah, they are skinny,” Decker said. “Aaron wants to weight lift.”
“He’s a little young.”
“He is. But he’s very intense.”
“He is,” Rina said. “I know that he’s seriously looking at college ball.”
“Yeah, Cindy mentioned that. Akiva is equally bright, but way more mellow. But their differences make it fun.” Decker paused. “Why do they talk at the same time?”
“No idea.” Rina smiled. “It was a loud weekend. Lily has quite a set of lungs on her.” Decker laughed and Rina laughed with him. She said, “What’s on your schedule today? More cats in jeopardy?”
