Page 37 of Mafia Angel

“Xiao shìjiè. Wo zài dàxué xuéguò. Wo zài táiwan dùguòle yigè xuéqí. Ni dú fánti háishì jianti?” Small world. I studied it in college. I did my semester aboard in Taiwan. Do you read traditional or simplified?

“Yi kaishi hen jiandan, yinwèi wo de liang wèi jiàoshòu dou láizì zhongguó dàlù. Dàn wo zài táiwan zuòle henduo shengyì. Wo xuéhuìle chuántong de yuèdú hétóng.” Simplified at first because both of my professors were from mainland China. But I've done a lot of business in Taiwan. I learned traditional to read the contracts.

I realize I’m leaning forward when my seatbelt tugs across my chest. I don’t get to use my Chinese like I would have if I’d gone into corporate law. But it comes in handy sometimes, and not just in Chinatown. Besides, I don’t speak Cantonese, anyway.

“Is that your place?”

Gabriele’s switch back to English and the harshness of his tone is jarring. We’re outside my building. He sounds like he did last night when he found me in the hallway.

“Yeah.”

“You have a basement apartment.”

“I know.”

His mouth sets in a thin line, and he looks pissed. Like super pissed. Like even worse than last night, if that’s possible. He gets out and opens my door. He looks both ways several times before we cross. He puts his hand out and stops me, going down the steps first.

“What the hell, Gabriele?”

I see him reach behind him to his lower back as though he’s going to take something from his belt. Like a cop on TV does with a gun.

“The door’s not on its hinges properly.”

“I know. It’s been like that since before I moved in.”

The look he shoots me could make me go up in flames. And it’s not the sexy kind of heat. It’s the even more royally pissed than he was ten seconds ago.

“Give me your keys.”

It’s a command. One I don’t dare disobey. I hand them to him, holding up the key to my place. He gets out his phone and turns on the flashlight before he unlocks it. He eases it open as though he expects someone to be there. From the door, you can see my entire living room and kitchen and all the way down the short hallway to my bedroom.

“Stand by the sofa. Don’t move.”

More commands. Another time, another place they would be sexy as hell. If I hadn’t been so stupid yesterday, they would be sexy as hell. Right now, he’s freaking me out. He walks around the living room, his flashlight shining along the baseboards. He squats and picks something out of the carpet. He closes his fist around it. He works his way through the kitchen, running his hand along the underside of every shelf and every drawer. Whatever he found in the living room, he found two more of in the kitchen. Did someone bug my place?

He goes to my bathroom next, and that really freaks me out. Has someone been watching me, too? He comes out pretty fast, so maybe there was nothing there.

“Sinead, come here, please.”

His manners are back, and I think he knows it’s because I’m silently freaking out. He drops whatever he found into his pocket and reaches out his hand. He leans over to whisper in my ear.

“You’re safe. Do you have any weapons in your place?”

I shake my head. I didn’t feel safe a moment ago, but I do now that he’s holding my hand.

“I’m going to search all your drawers and beneath your bed. I’m sorry if it embarrasses you.”

For fuck’s sake. He knows he’s going to find my vibrators. If only that were all he was going to find. He starts with my closet. He must be searching every inch three times before he finally steps back as he drops stuff in his pockets. He moves to my dresser, where he finds something else. Knowing what he’ll discover in a moment makes him going through my bras and panties seem like no big deal. Did he just run his thumb over the teddy I’ve never worn? It still has the tags on it. It was for an ex-boyfriend, but we broke up before I wore it.

I watch him get down on the floor and flip the bed skirt back. Not only does he have broad shoulders, but his chest is thick. Like he has big pecs kind of thick. It’s obvious he won’t slide very far under the bed. He looks around and pulls back. He rolls onto his back and inches under the bed again. When he’s satisfied there’s nothing there, he runs his hands over the bedframe, the footboard, and the headboard. I know when he finds the small groove. His thumb runs over that too. He checks all the walls, saving my bedside table for last. I try not to cringe.

He pulls open the top drawer and feels around among the condoms I have there. It’s not like there’s a mountain or anything, but there is a variety. Fuck me. He pulls open the bottom drawer, and I want to cover my face. Double fuck me. I hear him moving things around before he shuts it.

“Stay here, please.”

I nod as he walks back to the kitchen. I lean to try to see, but I don’t know what he’s doing until I see him with a hammer. He goes to the front door and opens it. He squats after grabbing whatever was in his pockets. He smashes all of it into smithereens. There can’t be much more than dust by the time he stands. I keep watching as he returns the hammer to the kitchen. Then he’s in front of me and pulling me into his arms.

“I know you’re scared,piccolina. But I’m certain I found all of them. You’re safe now.”

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