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Authors: Stacy Dittrich
Tags: Fiction
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She paused. “Do you know if the FBI is going to notify Michael’s parents?”
For whatever reason, this thought reopened my floodgates. I began to sob uncontrollably again, begging for anyone that would listen to put me out of my misery. I desperately wanted Michael. I wanted to hold him, see him, feel his body against mine, smell his cologne, and look into his eyes. I thought of him, burned beyond recognition just outside the window of the bedroom we shared, and I couldn’t take it anymore. Bringing my hands up to my head, I began to scream as loud as possible. I wanted to die, and was so hysterical that my father and Eric had to hold me down while the EMTs shot me with a sedative after Naomi called them. It took less than two minutes for the darkness to overcome me again.
“It’s done, Sal.”
“Done? I thought we weren’t ready for two more days?”
“Cleveland got to him first, Sal. Blew him up in his own driveway.”
Salvatore smiled. For the first time, he felt like sendingCleveland a bottle of champagne. Not only had they taken care of a major problem, but also they’d taken the heat off Youngstown. Fools. Regardless, the FBI would now focus all of their attention on the agent’s murder, instead of on them. It couldn’t have worked out better.
“So, our glorious Agent Michael Hagerman is no more, eh? Fantastic.” He paused. “What about his wife? Did they get her, too? I think I’d have to make a personal phone call offering my thanks for that one.”
“No, sir, but she’ll no longer be a problem. My source tells me that she’s pretty much done upstairs, had to be sedated—the whole lot. I suspect that she’ll be too overcome with grief to function from here on out.”
“Just as long as she doesn’t get ‘overcome’ with revenge.” He thought while he chewed his bottom lip. “I still want our eye on her—you hear? We still don’t know what he’s told her about us.”
“Yes, sir.”
“If that Irish bitch makes one move that looks like she’s on our ass…take care of her.”
C HAPTER F IVE
Sleeping fitfully most of the night, I didn’t know if I was awake or dreaming half of the time. I remembered at one point looking over and seeing Michael sleeping next to me. I nudged him a little, he opened his eyes and reached his hand out, touching my cheek.
“I love you, baby,” he whispered.
“I love you too, Michael.”
I breathed a sigh of relief; my nightmare had been just that. Only when I opened my eyes and saw Naomi sleeping in the recliner did I realize I was wrong. The familiar thud in my chest and the reality of it all crashed down on me again, bringing forth immediate tears. Naomi woke up instantly.
“CeeCee, let me get you something. Do you want some water?” she asked, handing me tissues.
I shook my head. Today was the day I had to start over, the day to begin grieving so I could get it out of the way and make it eventually stop. This was the day to start my new life—without Michael. I don’t know how I managed, but I ultimately got out of bed, showered, and dressed. My first priority was to call Vanessa and make sure Sean was okay. Naomi had called her last night. She said Vanessa didn’t takeit too well, either—not that I was surprised. Not long before, Vanessa had tried to blackmail me into leaving Michael so they could get back together. It clearly hadn’t worked. She sounded hoarse when she answered the phone, and just as I suspected, she said Sean wasn’t doing well.
“He was up all night, crying off and on. He was crying for you, too, CeeCee.” She began to sob. “His father meant the world to him! I don’t know what to do!”
It was all I could do not to break down. My own tears flowing like Niagara Falls, I told her one of my reasons for calling.
“Vanessa, if it’s okay, I’d like to have Sean with me for the weekend. The girls will be here and help him through it…It’ll be good for Sean and them to be together.” I paused, feeling
For whatever reason, this thought reopened my floodgates. I began to sob uncontrollably again, begging for anyone that would listen to put me out of my misery. I desperately wanted Michael. I wanted to hold him, see him, feel his body against mine, smell his cologne, and look into his eyes. I thought of him, burned beyond recognition just outside the window of the bedroom we shared, and I couldn’t take it anymore. Bringing my hands up to my head, I began to scream as loud as possible. I wanted to die, and was so hysterical that my father and Eric had to hold me down while the EMTs shot me with a sedative after Naomi called them. It took less than two minutes for the darkness to overcome me again.
“It’s done, Sal.”
“Done? I thought we weren’t ready for two more days?”
“Cleveland got to him first, Sal. Blew him up in his own driveway.”
Salvatore smiled. For the first time, he felt like sendingCleveland a bottle of champagne. Not only had they taken care of a major problem, but also they’d taken the heat off Youngstown. Fools. Regardless, the FBI would now focus all of their attention on the agent’s murder, instead of on them. It couldn’t have worked out better.
“So, our glorious Agent Michael Hagerman is no more, eh? Fantastic.” He paused. “What about his wife? Did they get her, too? I think I’d have to make a personal phone call offering my thanks for that one.”
“No, sir, but she’ll no longer be a problem. My source tells me that she’s pretty much done upstairs, had to be sedated—the whole lot. I suspect that she’ll be too overcome with grief to function from here on out.”
“Just as long as she doesn’t get ‘overcome’ with revenge.” He thought while he chewed his bottom lip. “I still want our eye on her—you hear? We still don’t know what he’s told her about us.”
“Yes, sir.”
“If that Irish bitch makes one move that looks like she’s on our ass…take care of her.”
C HAPTER F IVE
Sleeping fitfully most of the night, I didn’t know if I was awake or dreaming half of the time. I remembered at one point looking over and seeing Michael sleeping next to me. I nudged him a little, he opened his eyes and reached his hand out, touching my cheek.
“I love you, baby,” he whispered.
“I love you too, Michael.”
I breathed a sigh of relief; my nightmare had been just that. Only when I opened my eyes and saw Naomi sleeping in the recliner did I realize I was wrong. The familiar thud in my chest and the reality of it all crashed down on me again, bringing forth immediate tears. Naomi woke up instantly.
“CeeCee, let me get you something. Do you want some water?” she asked, handing me tissues.
I shook my head. Today was the day I had to start over, the day to begin grieving so I could get it out of the way and make it eventually stop. This was the day to start my new life—without Michael. I don’t know how I managed, but I ultimately got out of bed, showered, and dressed. My first priority was to call Vanessa and make sure Sean was okay. Naomi had called her last night. She said Vanessa didn’t takeit too well, either—not that I was surprised. Not long before, Vanessa had tried to blackmail me into leaving Michael so they could get back together. It clearly hadn’t worked. She sounded hoarse when she answered the phone, and just as I suspected, she said Sean wasn’t doing well.
“He was up all night, crying off and on. He was crying for you, too, CeeCee.” She began to sob. “His father meant the world to him! I don’t know what to do!”
It was all I could do not to break down. My own tears flowing like Niagara Falls, I told her one of my reasons for calling.
“Vanessa, if it’s okay, I’d like to have Sean with me for the weekend. The girls will be here and help him through it…It’ll be good for Sean and them to be together.” I paused, feeling
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