But Too Well

IX : Complicated

Another chapter. Enjoy!

***

AS I EXIT my apartment on Sunday, I run into a tall, broad-shouldered man dressed completely in black as he leaves Nero's room. He's gruff with a large scar running down the right side of face, dark and skulking. I let him pass me as we both head towards the elevator, a mix of curiosity and alarm churning in my gut.

We both wait for a lift down to the parkade, and I pretend to be busy on my phone, trying not to make any contact with him. He looks like trouble, and I consider waiting for the next one, but by the time the doors slide open he's holding the button for me, and I have little choice but to go in.

We stand in silence until a sharp ringing echoes across the confined space, and he pulls out his cell phone, sounding irritated and rushed as he talks in Italian. His voice is low and rough and grating, like a brick, and it's vaguely familiar but I dismiss it, knowing I've never seen this man before.

I try to pick up some words from his conversation that I can look up later—the thought that eavesdropping could be a bad idea barely registers. My ear is untrained to the smooth quickness of his language, so no words stick, and when we exit the elevator we go separate ways.

As I unlock my car, I hear a new voice as another man, large and tough and mean, comes from the elevator. "Angelo," he begins, addressing the man I rode down with, and it it clicks in my head, where I heard that voice before. They speak in rapid Italian and I climb into my car, knowing that I'll be able to get nothing from their conversation, and that listening in will do me much more harm than good.

As I drive, I think about the two men, both of whom must have come from Nero's place. It's strange that I haven't heard so much as a peep from next door. I appreciate the fact that Nero has made an effort to keep the noise down. It's obviously about his security—absolutely nothing to do with my comfort—but I let myself believe it's Nero thinking about me. Stupid.

At dinner, a conversation starts about work, as it always does. Daniel talks about the fundraiser, and my parents listen, interested, saying that it sounds fun. Just as my mom serves dessert, my dad clears his throat, as if to make an announcement. "So, Daniel and I have some news."

My mom and I exchange a curious look. I watch as he and Daniel share a small nod. "Our firm," he says, talking about the criminal law office that he and Daniel work at, "has recently taken on a high profile case that we thought we should tell you guys about."

This piques my interest; I wonder if it's about anything I've heard on the news. Dad takes a sip of his coffee before he continues.

"The firm recently decided to represent a man who's been charged in relation to a recent death—I can't disclose a lot of information, but it is related to the rise in gang violence in the city. Do you remember the body found a few weeks ago by the marina?"

My blood freezes in my veins, and I swear my heart completely stops for a full second. I nod slowly, though I have a sharp, sinking feeling about where this is going.

Daniel continues where Dad left off, and I know that this is good for him, because he's still young in his career and this case could be a big thing. I'm too alarmed to consider his excitement, however, because my mind is occupied with the recollection of Nero and I, talking about this same death just a little while ago. "We're hoping to plead not guilty on all charges. We can't go into details, but it seems like there's a pretty good chance that he's innocent."