Chapter 36: Chapter 36

◆ MILES ◆

Milan, Italy

"What d'you want?"

I looked up from my phone. It didn't surprise me to see Paul approaching with a lit cigarette and a snarly frown directed at me.  "Did she call you?"

"Piss off. I'm busy."

"You know her city address?" I put my phone away after sending a text. Since last night, I'd been waiting for a response from Mykaela. Finding out which school she'd enrolled into took some effort, and my online stalking today wasn't shaping up to be a productive one.

"What?" Paul walked past me to unlock his car.

"She tell you her address? Not her parents' house."

"Why would she?" Paul threw something into the passenger seat. "You screwed it up. Go fix your own mess."

"You know her new number?" It had been a while; I just wanted to hear back from her. I stood by the car, wondering why my surly best friend was giving me a hard time. "Won't even reply to my emails."

"That should tell you something," Paul muttered before he shut the driver's door and started the engine.

Sighing to myself, I settled in the passenger seat.

"I said I'm busy." Paul gave me a warning glance.

"Where you headed?" I buckled up and fully ignored the deterring retort. Focusing on how to get to Mykaela should be my only goal today. I knew her parents' address in Schenectady, but I found out just yesterday the medical school she enrolled into. It was in the city, about three hours away from her childhood home.

The last time I'd seen her had been months ago. Not entirely my choice, but, at least  she'd be safer.  If she stayed away from me and my family, there was a considerable chance she'd be able to live a normal life—something I also knew was a conscious choice on her part.

Unable to get rid of me, Paul changed gears and drove out of the parking lot, barely giving me any attention for the next minute.

"I supposed she told you." I ignored my best friend's mood. I needed Paul's advice, actually, Paul being the only close common friend Mykaela and I shared.

"You told her to leave you alone so she did. Idiot," Paul muttered while driving past a spacious lane. Due to the time, traffic wasn't an issue.

Sure. I should have told him I intentionally pushed her away, but that would mean I also had to explain why I did it. It was a tricky issue; my friends need not be involved in my family's mess. "I did that so she'd be safe."

Paul scoffed. "And that's it?"

"She's upset that I haven't called her sooner?"

Paul chuckled and sped up. "That's honestly the least of your problems right now."

"What?"

"I'm moving back to Jersey."

"What?"   Did I hear that right? I scrunched my forehead, not expecting the news at all.  "Why? And you're telling me this just now?"

"Should ask you the same thing." Paul scoffed. "I gotta find out through her?"

"Find what out?" I made a face. "Who pissed in your damn cornflakes?"

Paul shook his head faintly and kept driving. "She told me about the shooting."

Complete silence filled the car before I could give a response.  "What?" I shifted in the seat and avoided his inquiring eyes.  "What'd she say?"

Paul weakly shook his blonde head of hair, and a half-meant grin stayed on his pale lips. "So you just conveniently forgot to mention it?" Paul faked a chuckle.  "You're seriously not telling me shit?"

Dammit.  It's out. I had to tell him now. As I dithered, I sat still in the passenger seat. Should I include details? Apparently, Mykaela failed to keep it all a secret.

"Fine," I muttered with some apologetic calmness. "Pappa told my cousin to offer the Tomassinis a deal,  a merger. Instead of my cousin traveling to the city, his wife fetched Lorenzio Tomassini. On their way to the estate, some gunslingers tried to shoot them dead."

"Tomassini?"  Paul's brows knitted while he drove past an intersection and a green light.  "Those land-grabbing douchebags?"

"None other," I mumbled with scorn. Although I knew my best friend wanted me to apologize, I opted to move on to another topic, too distracted to explain the incident or tell stories about my father's penchant for making money through underground, highly criminal means.  My mind was too preoccupied with something else right now—I just wanted to see Mykaela. The soonest possible. "How's her dad? He's okay now?"

"Not well, but, alive." Paul stepped on the gas and kept up his cranky tone. "Her father only survived the surgery 'cause there were four doctors in there, and 'cause of the blood transfusion. Cost them a lot, but, what do you care..."

I kept a scowl and a caustic reply to myself, recalling what Mykaela last told me about her father's worsening condition.  I couldn't ask her directly; I wasn't even sure if she still wanted to talk to me.

Was she too busy with school to help me deal with my current problems? Or maybe she just wanted to be alone with her family now?

"Could you slow the fuck down?" I used the friendliest tone possible as I gripped the seat belt.

Straight-faced behind the steering wheel, Paul sped past another empty curve. He kept driving in silence.

Aside from the speedometer numbers definitely calling for a speeding ticket, a good indication of my best friend's current temperament was his utter silence as we drove out of the busy freeways with breakneck speed. I would know; I'd seen Paul in his worse moods. Especially after a bad breakup.

Like me, Paul was never the relationship kind of guy. Until recently, it seemed.  India seemingly got past his sky-high emotional fence and even convinced Paul to move back to the US.

"When you movin' back to Jersey?" I reclined as we drove away from the wide city roads. Clusters of stars shone across the black sky. Tall trees clumped together along the quiet roadside, the peaceful surroundings giving us some sense of privacy.

"Few months."

"Huh. Just kind of, to speed things up?" I put some enthusiasm in my voice, although I couldn't quite make sense of his sudden decision to leave Italy after living here for years. "You never mentioned India wanted to move to the States," I added. I'd rather not continue a conversation about my family's secrets. I missed hanging out with my friends, and at the moment, I only wanted to talk about mundane, boring, day-to-day life.

"India's pregnant."

"Oh." Figures. He knocked her up. I kept my eyes on the road and tried not to sound too shocked by the news. "Did you plan it, or—"

"No." Paul decreased his speed.

"When'd you find out?"

"Last month."

"What else did Mykaela tell you?"

Paul drove on. A minute or two ticked by before he spoke again.  "You know what your problem is? You keep things to yourself all the time. She's been worried sick. Still, all you do is keep secrets. And you expect her not to do the same?" Paul shook his head. "Grow up."

Alright. Obviously my best friend favored Mykaela in that regard. I sighed to myself and thought hard. Should I tell him everything? Every little detail about my family's other business ventures? Nah. Not now. It would just make me sound batshit insane. "She tell you Pappa found Niccolo?"

"What?  No." Paul got quiet as he pulled over at a gas stop. "Alive? Where is he?"

"Working. Pappa said Niccolo and two of his friends were found digging out some confidential records." I looked out the window. "Crazy mob shit."

"So, wait... You mean some gangbangers took him? And your dad found them?" Paul scowled and kept the car parked beside the gas station. "Fuck. That's mad. What'd the cops do?"

"Nothing. Like always. Shut up about it or you're fuckin' next," I joked in a humorless tone.  "I work for the company now."

"No shit." Paul took another drag before throwing his cigarette out the window, no longer sounding annoyed. "SF Shipping?"

"Yeah." I sighed.

Mykaela might've heard about it from my meddling family, and she must be surprised by my newfound career. Was she even a little bit curious about what I'd been up to these days?  Mykaela still hadn't replied to my text or emails.

Being the newly appointed head of client relations in our shipping company had forced me to put my chill country life aside to become a "more responsible adult", as my painstakingly perfectionist parents had said.

"Remember that party? Second time I met her."

"Yeah. Why?" Paul turned up the rock music blasting guitar solos through the speakers.

"You half-wits forced me to do that stupid blood pact with her." I tried to recall other details. I couldn't trust my feelings for her yet.  It could just be plain anxiety, or some messed up chemical reactions in my brain after she suddenly left the country to go back to her old life. To what extent? I couldn't even tell yet.

"Yeah. Just to hide from your ex, you actually licked blood off her finger. Then RJ dared her to draw your blood when it was her turn. Good times." Paul chuckled at the memory. "Still liked hangin' out with us then."

At the retort, I frowned at the dripping sarcasm. Did my jerk of a best friend just try to make me feel like the bigger jerk? Because I didn't make time to hang out anymore? "You tryna be funny or did you just bring that shit up again?"

"She's busy with exams."

"Thought so," I muttered. Of course she told him she was back in med school.  I gripped my phone and waited for the screen to glow.

Would she text back? My new phone line was secure; using it to contact her shouldn't cause any issues for the next few weeks.

"I just wanna see her." I glanced at Paul, quite certain he could help me with my separation anxiety problems.  "Where is she?"

◆

◇ KEL ◇

New message

From: ***-304-599-***

"Meet up soon. Call me."

Today 13:14

I kept staring at the screen, convinced that the message was in fact intended for me. I didn't even blink after I read the text for the fifth time.

Same as last night. Short. Straightforward. No name or anything.

It was Miles—I was sure. The country code and a burgeoning gut feeling told me so. I didn't reply to the first text last night and waited for a call, but nothing happened, so I slept on it.

Did he have to use a different number?  The short text message on the screen taunted me like a dare.

What now, K? Pick up the gauntlet or fold under pressure?

A minute of hesitation felt like hours to my anxious senses. The frustration only worsened my lonesome feelings. I missed him, as though we hadn't seen each other in ages. Maybe hearing his voice again could fix my problem. The longing was about to turn into desperation,  so I rang the number.

Two quick rings and a familiar, mellow but deep voice came over the line. "Yeah?"

My racing heartbeat accompanied the dead silence in my room as I stayed motionless on the bed. "Miles?" I asked just to confirm. My laboring, beating heart told me it was absolutely him, but I wanted to be 1000% certain.

"Nice of you to still remember me," he retorted. His tone sounded dull, lukewarm.

Ignoring his sarcasm wasn't easy but I was rather relieved we could finally talk again. No more security issues? Or did he want to talk to me just to discuss such issues? His surprising text wasn't that informative. I hunched over on the bed and kept thinking of the next thing to say.

Although the fact that he reached out to me gave some reassurance, I couldn't help bringing to mind the images and videos of him having a great time with his new group of 20-something, scantily clad friends, getting wasted at a club—and probably high as a kite, too. It was like helplessly watching him drift back to his party-like-a-rockstar days.

"We talking or..." he then said with a sigh.

"What the heck's goin' on with you?" Did I bother him by calling at this hour? Too busy for a quick chat with me?  More urgently, when did he even start dating younger girls?

Miles snickered. "Hi to you, too."

"You think I don't care?" I gripped the phone and put it on speaker mode, opting to dismiss his insouciant tone. His tone implied amusement.

After my question, he sounded like he was just trying not to laugh. Dulled music played in the background. I could easily imagine him getting wasted again at some nightclub.

"This a joke to you?"

"I wouldn't dare."

I sighed to myself, mentally struggling with his odd stolidity. Was he drinking and doing drugs again in his spare time? I sincerely hoped that wasn't the case.  "The heck are you doing?"

"Why?" Miles replied.

Although difficult, I tuned out his indifferent tone. Did I read his message wrong? I really thought he wanted to talk to me. Why was he trying hard to seem aloof?  "Is there a point to this conversation? I'm supposed to be studying right now."

"You called. You tell me," he muttered over the line.

On impulse, I hung up on him and shoved my phone under my pillow, just seconds before the darned tears streamed down my face.

A quiet minute stretched. My restrained sobs disrupted the total stillness in the room. Confounded, I hastily wiped off the wretched tears.  Get a grip.  Obviously he'd moved on with his life.

Sure. It was my fault I let myself feel all these things, but I shouldn't be sorry for it. I should just convince myself that he didn't want anything more than a platonic friendship.

Noted. From now on, I would straightaway push aside any hopeful thoughts of being in a relationship with him. It was just implausible.

But my phone rang. And for a quiet while, the short, shrill rings went on, just taunting me to grab my phone from under the pillows. While trying to ignore it, I focused on holding back useless tears.

Much to my confusion, Miles kept calling back for the next five minutes. What did he even want?

Tension just filled the silence in the room. Or maybe it was just the stupid, lovelorn thoughts in my head urging me to pick up the phone so I could hear his voice again.

"What?" was my calmer reaction when I answered the call. Hating his strange behavior wouldn't do me any good. He was going through something, alright...I just didn't know what yet.

As if relieved to some extent, Miles sighed. Static noise poured over the line. "You're dating Lorenzio?" Long pause. "Why?"

The question struck me speechless. Should I respond? Who told him I was dating Enzo? "Didn't call to talk about that."

Miles scoffed and didn't speak for a moment. "Why can't we?"

"Because it's irrelevant."

"Is it?" he retorted. "If I told you to stop talkin' to him, would it still be irrelevant?"

I frowned and wiped my cheeks dry with my sleeves. Did it matter to him? Was it just a twinge of jealousy? Or something else? "Why does it matter?" I wanted to swear.

To set a few things straight and ask him to come to the States and spend some time with me were the only reasons I called. Arguing about petty things over the phone just seemed pointless.

"I had to find out through someone else? Are you kidding?" Miles spoke louder now.

"It's not—  I was outside campus, and he showed up a-and offered some help." I frowned after my haphazard explanation. Who told him about Enzo paying me a visit? "Like last time, he insisted."

"So you're dating now?" Miles muttered, his tone bordering on incredulous.

"He just showed up. We only talked over breakfast." I covered my face, warm and damp with tears. Why was I even explaining myself? Talking to someone who seemed to want to be my friend wasn't a crime. Why was he making me feel so guilty about it?

"You have the time to go on dates with that tool but you couldn't spare me a quick call? Why didn't you tell me you needed money? I emailed you a few times."

"What? You said I shouldn't contact you," I stressed. "And why would I ask you—" I paused to breathe deeply, gather what's left of my composure, and sound less upset. "My problems aren't your obligation."

"You're missing the point, Mykaela."

"You want me to apologize? Fine. I'm sorry." My voice wavered from the vexing mix of emotions burning my throat and chest. Actually I felt like the biggest pile of crap right now, and I wanted nothing but the certainty that things between us would go back to normal. But he was acting so weird and rather judgmental. "That enough or do I have to beg?"

"No. Let's meet up. I wanna see you."

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