Page 48 of Alfie: Part Two

Alfie furrowed his brow and nodded.

“This was why.” Phil pointed at the entrance. “I don’t know how organized it is, but two or three men have been harassing women in our neighborhood the past few weeks. The first time—when I called you—one of them had just followed Giulia home, not really sayin’ shit but makin’ her feel uncomfortable. All the way to the stoop.”

I took a deep breath as white-hot anger unfurled within me.

“And lemme guess—Ma didn’t want me to know,” Alfie stated.

“She didn’t want you to get involved, and she said I was overreacting,” he confirmed.

“How hurt is she?” I had to ask.

“I’ll show you.” He trapped his smoke at the corner of his mouth and retrieved his phone. “You asked if there was anything you could do, and I want you to look at these photos—and then forgive my boy for whatever he does. I know it’s a big ask.”

A response I didn’t even know the gist of got stuck in my throat as the first photo flashed on the cracked screen.

Alfie sucked in a breath and pressed his knuckles to his mouth.

I couldn’t help it; my vision became a little blurry, and my heart just fucking broke for her. Her face was all swollen with bruises and cuts, and she had a bandage around her head and under her jaw.

Phil spoke as he showed more photos. “X-rays showed three fractured ribs, her left knee is shattered, fractures in four places down the same leg, her nose is broken, and four of her fingers too. She has a concussion, internal bleeding in her abdomen, and—” He choked up and pocketed his phone with a shaking hand.

Nausea crawled up my throat, and it was my turn to light up a smoke.

Holy fucking shit, what was wrong with people? How could someone do this to her?

“I couldn’t protect my wife,” Phil croaked. “I was workin’ late. A stranger found her in an alley and called 9-1-1.”

I touched his shoulder in silent comfort and shook my head.

It was honestly too much for me to process. The anger faded, to be replaced by an eerie numbness that scared me a little. Feeling nothing was something I associated with the worst days that followed my breakup with Alfie, when I could barely get out of bed to take care of our children.

Giulia had always been our most vocal supporter. She loved and fought loudly, usually with fists waving and curses flying out in Spanish and Italian. She was what, five feet tall? If that. And she had a casserole for every mood. If you had a headache, you got food. Bad day at work? Food. Celebration? A lot of food. You got a parking ticket? Have some food.

Alfie sniffled and scrubbed a hand over his mouth. “Whoever did this to her is dead.”

“I sure hope so, but not by your hand,” Phil said firmly, clearing his throat. “You do whatever you want with him—find him, make him sorry—but you’re not goin’ to prison for finishin’ him. You take me to him in the end. You hear me?”

I swallowed hard and glanced around us. We were alone on the sidewalk, but this was bizarre. To say these things out in public—and to mean it? This wasn’t some Hollywood movie.

“We can discuss details another time.” Alfie stubbed out his smoke against the wall, and I offered to take it. “I wanna know everything. When did this happen? What street? Who called 9-1-1? Have the cops been here? I assume she hasn’t given a statement yet.”

Phil blew out smoke and scratched his forehead, thinking. “She’d been up to see Laticia and Marisol, got off the bus at the usual place on Tasker, and you know she likes to walk the last bit.”

“Along the park?” Alfie pressed.

Phil nodded once. “And then she was walking along Morris, and someone attacked her, pulled her into an alleyway—I don’t know the exact location, only it was near the intersection on 4th. Whoever found her—it was a woman—called 9-1-1, and Giulia was coherent enough to ask for me. The cops stopped by a while ago, but she was out of it.”

Alfie brought out his phone and made some notes. “Did the woman give her statement?”

“I think so. Or she’s doing it now. The cops mentioned they’d gotten her information.”

I took a quick drag from my smoke and decided to make some calls tomorrow. Giulia and Phil were proud people—stubborn, too—but something had to give. If there was one thing Alfie and I should be able to force upon them, it was extra security. Alternatively, we didn’t tell Giulia, but Phil was probably going to agree. Maybe we could hire someone to keepan eye on her during her walks, because she sure as hell wasn’t going to change her routines for anyone.

Maybe it was something I could bring up with Finn. He did run a security company after all, and they deployed their own guards.

“And you said this has happened before?” Alfie went on.

Phil inclined his head. “Two other women in the area—same age, fifties, early sixties, walking alone after dark.”

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