Page 74 of Biker's Tribute: Property of Bear

Just before Ethan’s bike turns onto Mallory’s street…

Iknow I’m about to hear something that will fundamentally change the course of my life when I see Mallory. She has no mascara on. I’veneverseen her without mascara. I didn’t know she had see-through lashes… Her entire condo smells like red wine and weed. She wraps her arms around me and greets me with a voice that sounds weak, not her usual peppy self.

“How big is this secret?”

“Red wine or white wine?” she responds, trailing her hand along the wall as she stabilizes her footing on the way to her kitchenette.

“Red.”

I’m angry enough at Ethan to drink a whole bottle of wine. Fuck it, I’ll join Mallory and we can get drunk like we did after our finals our first year in grad school. I don’t rememberanyof that night, but it was a nice change to forget fucking everything going on for once. I know all the psychological reasons this is a dark place to go.

But it’s either I get wine drunk or I end up in Ethan’s bed… Wanting a life with a man who is a violent, criminal redneck with an unhinged sex drive and disturbed sense of morality.

“Good,” she says. “I have this great Malbec you’re going tolove.”

I can’t tell the difference. All wine gets me the same place. Mallory pulls out a chair for me as she sets a giant wine glass in front of me. We bought those together at Marshall’s. Mallory fills the wine glass so tall that it just looks like a drunk text waiting to happen. She finishes off the bottle by pouring it into her glass and she sits across from me.

“I have to leave Boston,” Mallory groans.

“Because of the secret?”

“Yes,” she says. “But it’s… I only didn’t tell you to protect you.”

My heart pounds. Ethan was right?

“I didn’t think… I didn’t connect the dots because it’s just been so many years. I’m thirty-eight. I left Pittsburgh at nineteen and I haven’t looked back once.”

“Deep breaths. I’m listening.”

Mallory’s eyes well up and she mutters, “Fuck,” before chugging about half her wine glass. She presses her hand to her chest as the wine burns down her throat and then she looks at me again, tears gone.

“My last name isn’t Knowles. It’s Corsini.”

“Okay… Your parents got divorced, right?”

A name change? How is it a revelation that a white girl has some Italian in her? I try to look sympathetic, especially because Mallory is drunk and looks scared to death after saying that name out loud.Corsini.It doesn’t mean anything to me.

Mallory shakes her head. “Not divorced. My dad… had my mom… killed.”

Her kitchen is quiet except for the appliance hum.

“He’s the leader of the biggest mob family in Pittsburgh and… those guys who broke in were after anyone close to me, hoping to get to me or send a message. I don’t know what my father wants.”

My father.She says it with such disgust. I’ve been a therapist for long enough to know that nobody talks about their own blood with so much hatred in their voice unless they have a good reason. I knew Mallory wasn’t close to her family, but I didn’t know how deep it went.

“He has people everywhere and I don’t even know if I’m safe right now. I just… I only put it together when you told me what Ethan said when you came back to Boston.”

The news hits me hard. My professional experiences of the past prepared me well for listening to shocking confessions, but I still didn’t see this coming. Mob family? She never seemed like she had unlimited money, but she did wear fur coats sometimes… Her heart seems so heavy and this secret doesn’t make her a bad person. She wanted to keep me safe and I would have done the same for her, if hiding my identity would have kept her safe.

It’s not like she’s a criminal herself.

“If you’re in danger, we should talk to Ethan. Or go to the police.”

“No!” Mallory says. I can’t tell if she’s this intense because of the alcohol, or if she’s serious about us not getting help. “We can’t go to the police.”

“Okay. We can talk to Ethan, then.”

“Do you trust him?”

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