“No,” I said, shaking my head. “He left me in the car. But then I heard the gunshots and I just—” I stopped, pulled my teabag out, and tossed it into the trash.
“Oh, honey,” Bea said sadly. “How bad was it?”
I stared at the golden-brown liquid then took a sip. It was scalding hot and burned my tongue, but for some reason the pain helped sharpen my mind a bit. It pulled me from the deadening fog that threatened to surround my brain and tug me deep beneath waves and waves of self-pity and fear.
“I saw him kill one of them,” I said, squeezing my eyes shut. “He stood there and shot him in the head. It was—” I stopped myself, started again. “Working at my dad’s strip club was hard. There were a lot of gross things going on all the time, you know? I thought I was hard, or at least hardened. But nothing like that. I never saw anything like that.”
Bea came forward and touched my shoulder. “I’m sorry,” she said. “The mafia’s a cruel business. They do well to hide it beneath the surface, cover it over with glitz and glam and money, but it’s violence all the way down to the core.”
“Is he evil?” I asked suddenly, and wasn’t sure why it bubbled up like that, as if it mattered. I knew Dean couldn’t be a great guy, since he was willing to buy a wife, and since he ran a crime family. But being hard and being evil were two very different things.
Bea didn’t respond right away. She sighed sadly and sipped her tea, which must’ve been too hot, but she didn’t seem to mind.
“I don’t know, dear,” she said finally, and it wasn’t the answer I wanted, not at all. “Are any of them evil? Some are, without a doubt. Some of the men in the family live for killing and hurting and stealing. But is Dean evil, in particular?” She shook her head. “I don’t think so. But I don’t know.”
“Does that make me bad then?” I asked. “If I stay here with him, does that make me culpable?”
“Oh, no, of course not,” she said, and laughed. “You can’t control that man and you can’t control the family. You’re here to survive, aren’t you?”
“Something like that,” I said.
“If you care so much, then steer him in the right direction,” she said, squeezing my arm again before she let her hand drop. “That’s what I did with his father all those years.”
“What do you mean?” I asked, eyes going wide.
“Comments, here or there. Suggestions and hints.” She leaned against the gleaming stainless steel prep station and sighed. “Cesare was very suggestible. He valued my advice and let me get away with a lot. Especially after—well, honey, you know how men are after they’ve been pleased.”
My jaw fell open and she turned slightly pink as she stared into her mug. I couldn’t believe she said that—Bea, who looked like an old housekeeper, who was an old housekeeper, who was kind and loving and understated, Bea used to sleep with the old Don.
It was insane, but it made a lot of sense at least.
“I haven’t done that with Dean,” I said quickly. “That’s not— We’re not—”
Bea laughed and held up a hand. “It’s okay,” she said. “I don’t need the details. I’m only saying, if you want him to behave a certain way, then you’ll have to talk to him about it. Try to be subtle, dear. Having sex with him first helps.”
“Oh my god,” I said, sipped my tea, burned my tongue again, and quickly walked to the door. “I think I need some air.”
“Go on then,” Bea said. “Just remember. Dean’s not any eviler than anyone else in this world. He grew up in the family and it’s all he’s ever known. I’m not mad at him for killing a few Healy thugs. I’m mad at him for putting his own life at risk.”
I met her gaze and chewed my lip, then smiled, waved, and left her there. I had a lot to think about and none of it made perfect sense.
Bea didn’t mind that Dean murdered three men. And she used to sleep with his father. And she apparently used sex as a sort of weapon to try to convince Cesare to do what she wanted—although I had no clue what that might be.
For that matter, I didn’t know what I wanted, either. If I could push Dean in some direction, I didn’t know where I’d want him to go. Maybe I’d want him to be less violent, but if he was less violent then the Healy family might get emboldened and come hurt us or someone else in Dean’s crew.
I wanted him to keep his hands clean at the very least. He had other guys to pull the trigger, and I didn’t ever want to see him do it himself, not ever again.