Chapter 5 - Who is Michael?

“So, ya know why ya got ‘ere. I think we both got it from da shitshow ya just went thru,” Melina unhooked her arm while talking. She distanced herself a bit, casting a caring look coupled with a playful grin, “I’ll tell ya what’s been happenin’, and ya ask more later, alright?”

“So, beginning dis month, I was cruisin’ ’round Chinatown with Antonio. We were da only ones outta the gang dere, yeah? He had a guy to take care o’‒”

Bernadette took a jagged breath trying to stay calm, ‘These people are contract killers, of course. But It’s better than nothing.’

“-and I tagged ‘long, cuz yanno, I’m da boss ‘ere. His buddy was in a bind, so I took ‘is place,” she took a break to draw in a breath whilst pointing at herself with a thumb, seeming proud of her involvement.

“I actually stayed more down by da café an’ our bars, Antonio perched in Chinatown cuz dat’s where da guy lived. Two beautiful gals buddy-buddy wit’ us have one of da bars in Downtown dat we frequented, I met up wit’ ya sis dere.“

Something flashed in Melina’s eyes for a moment. Her gaze dead serious on scrutinizing Bernadette’s face, before going back to that mock-like happiness, “You steppin’ in was pretty much da end of it.”

Bernadette’s eyes looked everywhere but back at the other, “Uh.”

Seeing her discomfort, Melina rolled her eyes, the smile still playing upon her lips, “Ya hubby was da guy. Gotta admit, you got sum’ balls to shank a whole capo like dat,” Melina’s tone wandered as if in thought, and Bernadette felt shivers creep up her spine.

“Huh… What? I‒ He?” she scrambled for words as her irises widened. Her teeth clenched together but soon she winced at the pressure, turning away from the other instead. How? He worked in a bank, he had proof of it on the regular. She was sure.

“Shocking! Hubby was involved wit’ da mafia, a capo at that! Had his soldiers up in Harlem an’ told ‘is beloved he was runnin’ a bank. Pretty close comparison if I said so myself. Probably didn’ let da family in on it n’ they told ‘im to terminate da marriage.”

Bernadette fully faced Melina, staring into the sarcastic smile of the other.

“How?” close to yelling out in anger, she stopped to repress it before continuing, “If‒ If he’d been a criminal how could he get married in the church, for god’s sake? How could he have all these documents showing him as a man of no criminal record when we bought the apartment?”

God, could she just never escape? Does what you do in your young years translate into what your future will be like? Mom would’ve said yes, for sure.

“Y’know, ya’re pretty dense,” Melina deadpanned, at which Bernadette grit her teeth harder, much to the pain, “Mafia’s got everybody by da balls, ya wouldn’ believe.”

Stretching out the ‘everybody’, Melina’s demeanor changed again as she leaned close to the ravenette’s face, “Like it or not, ya did us a big favor. Woulda’ shanked ya afterward if ya were like ya sis.”

Shivers ran down Bernadette’s spine as the ginger ran a thumb down her jawline.

“Home,” a voice boomed from the doorway to Bernadette’s relief, Melina retracted her hand to sit back into the couch.

“Hey, hey, Dav-o,” the ginger greeted the man as he made his way into the apartment through the door which seems to have been open the entire time. With a heavy breath, he bent down to take off his shoes before stepping in. Bernadette immediately noticed the new pair of sunglasses perched on his nose, as his pastel yellow button-up and shorts clung onto his skin with sweat, his skin shining with it.

“Who were ya running from?” the ginger beside her continued and the two dissolved into idle chatter. This seemed to be the effect Dave often had on others.

To distract from the exchange taken place moments ago, the black-haired woman looked over the room. The room contrasted the outside building like black contrasted white. The walls, coated in soft yellow paint, housed artistic photographs of New York and extinguished neon signs that hung tilted. The floor shone with white tiles, covered here and there with an old carpet. In front of her stood a shabby coffee table, that took her interest as she dozed off into dissociation.

“Aye! Anybody home?” a hand knocked on her skull as if it were a door. Bernadette shook her head to come to, but a soft jab to her bandaged wrist woke her up much quicker.

“Don’t worry much, little baby,” the ravenette scowled at the nickname as Melina stroked her cheek with the back of her pointer finger, “Fen-Hua is gonna get ya to ya room. Dunno if da roomie will show up but if so, tell ‘er Meli said she gets da floor.”

She glanced at the other’s brother, who had a change of apparel since coming inside. Separated from his tough exterior outside, he wore a tank top and loose pajama pants, his hair pulled back with a headband. His face looked as stern as Antonio’s, but the get-up ruined the vague threatening aura.

Bernadette stood up, ripping herself from the ginger’s hand before turning to Fen-Hua. She felt a glare, unsure if from the sister or brother, but followed the shorter boy to the end of the hall that extended left of the couch they were sitting on.

At the end of the hall stood a dark wood door, the younger left her alone at that point, turning to the right door and disappearing into the dark of the room.

Without hesitation, she turned the doorknob and walked into the room. Turning on the lights, she observed the room laid out in front of her. Not too shabby, but the interior looked inferior to the living room. Painted in a light gray, the painted walls chipped. In the left corner stood a bed with fresh-made bedding and to the right was a thick mattress with a plain blanket.

Bernadette sat on the bed, jumping a little as the springs inside creaked. She laid on her healthy side, closing her eyes. A bit guilty of taking the good bed, she hoped the roommate wouldn’t return so soon.

Trying to even out her breathing, she pushed aside all the rush of today and felt herself drift off. But the muffled chatter from the living room caught her attention, unable to let it go she tried to listen in, unsuccessful.

Unable to decipher anything of the conversation, she reluctantly let it go. Turning over to her back, she sighed and felt herself drift off.