Smoke

          “I’m ready to talk now,” I called into the dark. I only knew he was still there because I could smell the smoke and hear the drags he took on his occasional cigarette. We were completely alone what felt like a large room; all I could hear was his breath under the tapping of my feet on the floor, and my fidgeting with the cuffs locking me to the arms and legs of the aluminum chair.
          “If you’re lying, you’re going to be sorry,” he muttered. His accented English was diluted with the harsh tones of a native speaker, but underneath hid the smooth hints of the Italian he truly was. I listened to tired paces scrape over the cement floor before his cold fingers pulled the blindfold down. He blew a mouthful of smoke in my face before reaching back for the chair. He plopped down, his thin body slouching and his eyes narrowing as he stared at me expectantly.
          “I want to smoke.” I sounded spoiled, more like his child than a hostage.
          “Your hands are bound.” The end of his cigarette glowed bright orange in the dim room as he inhaled again. “How can you expect me to be nice and cut you loose, if you refuse to cooperate? I am not going to let you be comfortable until I have your brother.”
          “If the only thing keeping me from talking is the fact that I can’t have a cigarette, how productive is it to tell me no?” I thought the request was reasonable, and he seemed to be considering it too. I was just stalling. There were twenty minutes to kill before I could list every place I’d ever seen my brother with confidence that he wouldn’t be in any of them.
          “Give me five hours,” Vincent had told me countless times. “If you continue to insist on staying associated with me, you’re definitely going to get abducted. When it happens, I promise to send someone for you—I could never leave you behind, but I will really need those five hours of silence from you to get someplace safe in the meantime.”
          I was getting stiff; maybe I’d been here long enough. Vincent was probably safe now, but I wasn’t taking any chances. I understood at this point, why we had practiced this, why he would check on me in the middle of the night, why he always knew where I was. If I was ever unreachable, he knew what had really happened and had five hours to get out of town, out of the country, anywhere safe. Then he would get a chance to send someone after me. The first time I was abducted, I’d been scared to death. Since then it had happened exactly five more times and it was starting to feel like routine.
          “I’m not talking about anything without a cigarette, my mouth tastes like copper. Did you chloroform me?” I started to raise my voice. It didn’t matter that no one was around; my yelling would be unsettling. “I know you won’t kill me, so don’t try making threats. Just give me a cigarette and I will tell you every single place that Vincent could be. You know that I know better than anyone else could. If you still can’t find him no one can help you, and you’re wasting time and effort.”
          The man grumbled and started fishing in his pockets for a key to my cuffs. He un-locked my left hand, probably just to be sure I couldn’t get a decent swing in. Not that it mattered, defending me wasn’t on my end of the bargain; taking care of me was someone else’s job entirely.
          “Satisfied?” he asked when I shook the match out and threw it to the floor.
          I nodded.
          “Then talk,” he enunciated the two words and folded his arms over his chest, eyeing me like I’d been disobedient.
“           Are people watching our apartment? If he’s trying to find me, that’s the first place he’ll go.” I coughed, remembering why I wasn’t much of a smoker. “You should post someone there day and night just in case.”
          He rolled his eyes. “We have that covered. You need to be more helpful or I’ll make you wish you had been.”
          “I think it is obvious I am less than afraid of you.” I looked up and caught his eye, not blinking once.
          “Do you want Vince killed or just hurt?” That threat was sincere. If they found my brother, his fate could quite possibly depend on how well I had or had not cooperated.
          “You need to check the pub on Silver Street, and I don’t mean at the bar or tables, you need to have men check the back and the basement. Then you need to check the little store on Cherry Street a block south of where we live.” I paused and sucked in more smoke before continuing to rattle off addresses of girlfriends I’d known, the addresses of a few of his friends, and which cemetery our parents and older brother were buried in. “He spends a lot of time at his lawyer’s office, too,” I finished.
          “Is racketeering his only income?”
          “No, he’s a hit-man,” I said. “He killed someone you cared about, no? That’s the only reason this sort of thing ever happens. Even if this is about something else, he is only valuable to his boss as a killer, not a dealer or negotiator.”
          “Will he be in either warehouse?”
          I sighed. “I doubt it. If he is, he won’t stay long.” I tossed the cigarette butt to the side and stretched my left arm over my head, twisting my sore body. “Did I fight when they grabbed me?”
          “A little, I suppose. I wasn’t there.” He shrugged and sat forward to re-cuff me.
          “I need to walk around. How much longer until I can leave?” I already knew the answer; I had to wait for my hero, Dave, to come rescue me. They never willingly let me go.
          “You can’t leave until your brother is right here,” he chuckled, pointing to his chair. “But thanks for the help.” He stood up and walked slowly across the room. In the shadows of the far corner, I could just make out a table. He lifted a relatively small glass bottle but its contents were a mystery. It wasn’t until he pulled a rag from his pocket and sloshed some liquid onto it, that I knew what was going on.
          “Please don’t do that, I promise not to bother you anymore,” I begged. It was a lost cause; he was going to knock me out again no matter how hard I cried because it would stop the tears and screaming. Additionally, on the off chance someone made it to me, the chance that anyone could get us both out alive if I were unconscious, was very slim.

---

          The cold of the room, faint scents, and the awful taste of a mouthful of pennies all flooded back into my perception at once. Sight still eluded me, and for a brief moment I thought the blindfold was back over my eyes, but after some strain and brief flashes of light, I gathered I was just too drugged to open my eyes yet. Still, something was demanding that I pay some attention, someone, rather.
          “Victoria…Wake up.”
          “Just make it so I can get out of this chair, Dave.” I muttered, straightening my stiff back but keeping my head down and eyes closed.
          “Vic, hun, you need to open your eyes, we have five minutes before someone comes back in here. The urgency in the voice stirred me, but it was the realization that it was him, that he was really here, that made me lift my head and pay attention. He was bound the same way I was, and bleeding from his nose and knuckles. He was so close our knees were almost touching, taunting my inability to tend to him. He smiled weakly. No situation ever changed his need to sugar-coat the world for me. Even something so obviously bad was given the gloss of a loving expression.
          “Vince…” was all I could get past my lips. I knew the disappointment in my tone was ill-timed, and that he had more important things to say to me than “I’m sorry.”
          “Where did they get you?”
          My tone softened but my words stayed harsh. “In our apartment, where the hell were you? No, more importantly why were you even anywhere in this country?”
          “I was in our apartment. Your room was a disaster; I thought they really killed you this time.” He knew better. There was something else going on, something he wasn’t planning on telling me.
          “What were you thinking?” I wanted to scream, but my head was pounding. I settled for quiet scolding.
          “Victoria Elyse,” he said through clenched teeth. “It is too late to be chastising me at all. I reacted emotionally and nothing can be done about that anymore. A bloody mess in my bedroom would have made you react irrationally too, and you know it. ”
          “No, Vince. I am smart enough to put pieces together. If it had been you who was kidnapped five times prior to this particular mess, I would be used to it, and know that fighting a couple of men while they try to drag you from your home sometimes stains carpets and breaks lamps.” There was a frustrated growl in my voice, but not because I was still stuck in the damn chair with my head throbbing, or because I was nauseated from all the forced sleep. I was furious because he didn’t think, and was as good as dead now. These guys weren’t messing around.
          “Do they have Dave too?”
          Vincent shook his head to say no, but a deep frown made his usually strong features sag. “Dave is fine but won’t be any help.” His shoulders fell and something was left unsaid.
          Unable to look at him, so filthy and hurt, I turned away to gaze out the row of windows at the low, red sun, until there were brisk footsteps behind me. In the corner of my eye, my brother stirred. He sat straighter, trying to look unhurt and unafraid.
          “Vincent,” the young male voice drew his name out to sound as though he was ecstatic to see my brother, like they were old friends. “Are you happy to see Miss Victoria, back from the dead?” I must have been passed out for a while, because the voice belonged to the man from earlier, but it was refreshed, lacking the tired slur from before.
          “Don’t say anything to him, Victoria.” Vince commanded in Italian, when I opened my mouth.
          “Let her say what she wants,” the man said. He spoke in English but let his accent ring true this time. Not even a foot behind me, he made sure I knew how close he was by resting a cold hand on my shoulder and giving it a soft squeeze.           “Let your brother know how nice I have been to you. There is no reason for him to be so protective. We have already had private conversation, at least now he can have input in what is said.”
          Vince started speaking again, in French this time. I wouldn’t have been able to find a bathroom in France, let alone understand a whole conversation in that language, but I listened hard. I heard my name a handful of times, and guessed the man behind me was the Antonio whose name my bother had spat.
          The grip on my shoulders got a little tighter. “You have my word as an honest business man that she will be just fine. She is barely scratched and bruised now, and that will not change.” He gently pulled my hair back from my face and finally moved to a place where we could both see him. “I have to be completely truthful though. You will not be leaving, sir. I tried to make an even-up trade with you and settle for the lovely Victoria, but you seem unwilling to part with her. That is very selfish, Vinnie—“
          “It’s Vincent,” I corrected.
          “Oh? Excuse me.” I glared up at him as he turned his attention back to me, only tossing a fleeting glance at my brother, his prize, his accomplishment. “What you prefer for me to call him is beside the point, pumpkin,” he sneered, running his fingers through my hair. “You see Vincent, your beloved bother, your twin, your, shall we say, other half...” He grabbed a fistful of my hair and used it to force my head straight; I bit my tongue to keep from yelping at the pain in my neck and scalp.           “He decided it would be easier to make you witness his death, than to live without you,” he hissed in my right ear.
          “I’m sorry, Victoria,” Vince whispered, his eyes exhausted and devastated.           “He didn’t tell me he was going to make you stay and watch. I just—” his voice broke. “I just won’t let you die because I had to kill this prick’s brother. This will—”
          The sound of a revolver cocking stopped the apology. “That’s my story to tell, Vincent. You can be quiet now.” My brother fell silent, looking weaker than I had ever seen him.
          Our captor crossed the room, dragging another chair behind him, letting it screech on the rough floor all the way back. He positioned it backward and sat facing us with his arms folded and resting comfortably. Something flashed in his eyes and he smirked, looking from me to my brother and back again before saying,           “I’m sorry. Good evening, Victoria.” His voice was soft and colder. “I have been too fixated on your brother and it made me far ruder than I like to be. I am Anthony, my mother would probably prefer I went by Antonio, but I digress. Your brother was assigned to kill mine, but someone dying is not so out of the ordinary when he is in town, is it?” A bitter chuckle fell from his lips. “He is always shooting someone’s dad, brother, cousin, best friend. Of course, that is where you get woven into this, and I was just the next up to have the privilege of tangling with you.”
          “You were just the only one who needed a warning,” Vincent spoke up.
Anthony tapped his gun barrel on Vincent’s chest. “I think I told you to be quiet. Do you want to have these last few minutes with her, or should we get right to it?”
          Vincent emitted the sort of sigh that I could only interpret as his giving up. He slumped in his seat completely. It was almost as if Anthony, or Antonio (I didn’t give a rat’s ass what his name was) had already pulled the trigger.
          “Anyhow, you definitely cannot consider this a very good warning,” Anthony snorted, bringing his arm back to rest atop his other. “I guess we will just be calling it a warning of my own.” He turned his head to look at me again. “Victoria, I am willing bet you have never gotten to know the intricacies of what Vincent does. I think you of all people should be privy, so I am going to enlighten you. One last hoorah, if you will. Your brother is involved, indirectly mind you, with the cocaine trade here in Chicago, in Vienna, and New York City. That certainly makes him sound powerful, does it not?”
          I didn’t respond. I couldn’t even look away from Vincent as a sign that I was listening.
          Anthony was content to continue, regardless. “I happen to be part of the family that controls the coke in most of California. We live here though, and none of us is quite sure why some guy, is controlling our city. And by ‘some guy’ I mean Vincent’s boss, who spends ninety percent of the year back in Italy eating lasagna. To make a terribly long story short, my brother and I started some business here, of the heroine and club drug genre. The big shot in Vennice got pretty upset and called up his little lackey here and said ‘Hey Vince, off this guy’s nephew and there’s a house on the beach in Spain for you, Dave and your sister’. So Vince says ‘sure’ and now the Chicago Police Department has to deal with precisely two murders and more hush money than anyone will really count.”
          His last words made the blood drain from my face. My reaction must have appealed to what little pity he had because he leaned back and started digging in his pockets with the words “I don’t know why you are still cuffed. I meant to unlock those after I drugged you the second time.” He went to my right arm first, taking my hand in his and lifting it to his lips. “If only I had remembered to be a gentleman. I am sorry you had to meet me on such terrible terms.” I resisted the urge to snatch my hand away, not wanting to make him change his mind about freeing the left. “You deserved a better introduction. I will be sure nothing like this happens between us again.”
          “He’s the only brother I have,” I snarled, rubbing my sore wrists before reaching to brush Vincent’s hair aside.
          “Well, David is undeniably close,” Anthony mused but I hardly heard it.
          Vincent lifted his head, his eyes wet but no sign of tears on his face. “You have been an angel, Victoria,” he whispered. “Please trust that this will be better for everyone. There is no reason you should have to put up with a life like this. Words can’t express how much regret I feel for holding you back as long as I have. You could’ve found someone worth your time if I hadn’t dragged you all over the world for so many years.” He paused and pulled his arms upward, wanting to reach for me. I put my hands on his. “David will take good care of you, I made him promise. You two are going to Ireland so you can start fresh, and he will be dropping ties to everyone we know.” I could tell by how long it took him to speak, and the tone he used that he wished he could’ve been there to see me move beyond being a bargaining chip. “I know this was selfish of me, to make you live without me, but you have amazing potential, and I will always be just a killer. It made no sense to let your life, a real life, end so early.”
          Anthony was pacing near the windows, giving us as much privacy as he was willing to. He seemed to be content waiting as long as we wanted him to. I heard gunshots in a distant part of the building; I knew what it was and, for once, cursed Dave for being so indiscreet. Bad guys had to draw the line somewhere and Anthony’s was right before the hero made it to the ones in distress.
          “Are you ready, Vince?” he asked, his keys jingling as he walked back toward us, and knelt to unlock my ankle restraints. “David has just decided it’s really time for goodbye.” I held my brother’s hands tighter as the motions were made to free him from his chair. “One last tender moment,” Anthony urged.
          Vincent stood immediately, betraying the listlessness he’d been showing. He pulled me to his chest. “Be strong for me, never let them see you cry,” he murmured in the gentlest Italian he’d ever let me hear. Usually he reserved that language for keeping me in line, but it was also apparently the only way he knew how to word a real farewell.
          I bit my lip and managed to choke an “I promise,” before someone grabbed me and pulled me back into the chair.
          Anthony threw Vincent to the floor, holding him there with a foot on his chest as he slid bullets into what had apparently been an unloaded gun. I took in deep gulps of air to keep myself calm. There was no reason to treat him this way, he’d given up. I knew for a fact that Anthony’s brother had not been treated badly. I kept quiet though, because I didn’t want it to get any worse, and no one wanted me crying.
          Anthony turned to me and flashed an evil smile before looking to whatever goon was behind me. “Hold her head straight, would you? I don’t want her getting scared and missing out. She needs this to be a lasting impression,” he said before turning back and leveling his gun at Vincent’s head. “Oh and Victoria,” he called over his shoulder. “As things are right now, Dave is waiting to take you home. If I catch you with your eyes closed though, I’m going to kill him too. I didn’t make any promises about his safety.”
          I didn’t struggle or say anything. My hands just tightened on the arms of the chair, and my teeth gnawed a little more furiously on my lower lip. Something was building up in my throat. I wanted to scream or hit something. I heard Vince speak but had no idea what he said. Part of me watched him sit up, as Anthony hit him a couple of times before kneeling, growling words that the rest of me didn’t care to hear. I watched Vincent collapse and turn his head away. I wanted to be angry when his face was grabbed, forced to once again point toward Anthony, but I couldn’t muster emotions. This wasn’t real.
          My practically lifeless brother let his head roll back to the side and Anthony decided he was done playing around. He stood and two shots echoed through the room before I let myself register what had happened. A third shot shook the windows and I felt a sob catch in my throat, held there by the screams I had been holding in since I was torn from my brother’s embrace. The thug let go of my shoulders and I impulsively rose to my feet, even though my legs were shaking and my vision was clouding, trying to block out the blood spreading on the floor beneath the shell of my protector and only true ally.
          I had played this scenario out hundreds of times in my mind. I knew it was coming and had decided I would attack my brother’s killer or that I would wait and avenge his death when least expected, but none of that could rise to the surface at the moment. All I felt was the excruciating absence of the most solid connection I would ever have to a person. It physically hurt my entire body more than I could have prepared myself for, or ever anticipated.
          It took an increase in the pain in my chest to make me realize I wasn’t breathing. Irrationally my thoughts were, oh shit, I can’t even breathe without him, I knew I’d die too, but I opened my mouth and, tragically, my lungs still worked.           The second feat was swallowing the need to vomit. My knees buckled and I crumpled to the floor, gasping for air that tasted and smelled less like death. The room spun and I closed my eyes, wrapping my arms around myself and clawing at my sides.

---

          I was hauled to my feet, with no regard for whether or not I could stand. I didn’t think I could support my weight until I was forced to, and actually held up to the challenge. I was numb but I couldn’t recall exactly why. The large room reeked faintly of blood and overwhelmingly of bleach. Something started to make sense but I pushed it from my mind before it became coherent. A hand clamped onto my elbow and I was steered down hallways. I watched my feet the whole time and thought only about the walking process. The man shoved me into the elevator when it opened, leaning in only to press the black “G” button.
          “David is waiting down there for you,” he grunted as the doors closed between us. I never looked any higher than his black leather shoes and the pin-striped cuffs of his pants.
          The movements in the cart made my stomach do a sort-of leap and I gagged, but I stopped it at that. A very familiar voice in my head insisted that throwing up now would be a sign of weakness, the exact thing enemies wanted me to exhibit.
          The rusty doors parted again after what felt like far too long. Dave really was waiting for me, and though I didn’t understand why, I felt like his presence was a gift. His back was turned, his hair was neatly gelled, his black and grey suit was still creased perfectly on his body, and his posture was straight and strong. When he turned, only his eyes were a wreck. He wrapped me in my coat as quickly as he could walk the three paces to get behind me. We left the building hand-in-hand, in a silence I refused to break.
          When we cleared the shadow of the building, a wind caught my coat, pulling it open and chilling me to the bone. Dave used both hands when he lifted my hood back up for me, moving them both to the back of my neck and resting his chin on top of my head. I sighed heavily and wound my arms around his waist. It struck me that these were the most intimate moments we had ever spent together, but I couldn’t make sense of why they were happening now.
          “Oh Vic,” he finally murmured, swaying back and forth in the embrace. “What are we going to do?”
          With those words, that tone, I remembered what it was that had happened upstairs. I rambled some words that were logical and completely empty of emotion over what had happened. My voice didn’t falter even a little, Dave was taken aback, maybe even a little angry at my lack of distress but I knew Vincent would have been proud.
          A single tear tickled my cheek as I slid into the passenger seat of Dave’s car, the seat my brother had always occupied. I wiped it away quickly, though something in my heart assured me it was okay to hurt, something leading me toward a bright memory that I finally understood. Vincent and I had been walking, bare-foot in the rain. We were probably only fifteen, but we were a sophisticated fifteen. My hair hung in wet tangles; he was under an umbrella his eyes smiling warmly at my disregard for the refinement drilled into me. “I would die without you, my dear,” he’d chuckled, “But you are always going to be remarkable, with or without me.”