Discovering the Mob ( ON HOLD)

Chapter 8

Chapter 8

“You do not know me Helena, and I say the same to you.” Francesco warns her as he leans across the table. His hands neatly folded in front of him exposing his expensive gold watch.

“Oh, I know you Frankie. You’re a jackass, which pretty much sums up your entire presence.” She grins at him. Her smile widens when she hear the low rhythm of ‘Chansons sans paroles’. Her first main stage performance song for the Dance Academy when she was twelve. She was lead dancer and remembers how many years she worked to get on that main stage and be the star of the show. Jacquelyn, her younger dance coach, used to always treat her with as much harshness as no instructor should. Those times where almost hellish, but Helena did her best to always stay on top with every move, every melody until she was able to perform. In those times her father frequently changed her name. Though he never showed up that day. Only Jacquelyn stood in the parent’s front row section criticizing her with soft eyes.

“You are enjoying a memory this song brings.” Francesco stunts her from her memories.

She lowers her eyes to try to compose herself. “Yeah.” She turns away from him.

“May I ask what these memories were?”

She shrugs her shoulders. “They’re just memories Frankie.” She stands up. “I need to use the restroom.” She makes her way towards the other side of the restaurant. To her surprise three men coolly lean against the walls opposite from the ladies room. “Men, isn’t it rude to stalk women’s entrance to a room? Don’t you find it odd?” She says to the buff guy with the long beard and flamed tattoo on his neck. He looks like a terrorist with his dark skin. He must be from somewhere in the middle east.

“Mrs. Genovese, you are in no hurry are you?” He raises his eyebrow.

Helena’s playful manner disappearances and leaves behind suspicion. “No, I’m not.” She doesn’t bother to correct his inauguration. All three men stand straight in a threatening manner.

“Please. Mrs. Genovese,” He motions for her to enter the restroom. “Do us the honor of your company.”

She looks around the hallway way. There’s not line of vision to the restaurant. She’s wondering if the men where here waiting for her or they followed her. “Let’s make it quick, then.” She simply says before she lets herself in. “Okay so what-” She turns around to find the man take out a small rag from his pocket. That better not be- yep, it’s chloroform. She glares at them. “You’ve messed with the wrong person.”

“Have we now?”

She ignores them. “Do you have any idea what my lungs have to go through each time someone tries to fucking make me smell chloroform? Huh?” She nags at them.  She catches them off guard with her rant. “What the fuck? Do you seriously think that I would beg for mercy now and get all fucking scared?” She yells at them. “Let me tell you something dumb one, two, and three.” She points at each of them. “Put that shit away or else.” She threatens them.

“Or what?”

She rolls her eyes. She unlatches her gun from her thigh and shoots a bullet through each of their heads. No work done, they didn’t expect her to be packing. “Never underestimate a woman dumbass.” She says before she takes the chloroform from the main guy’s hand. Nothing pisses her off more. How stupid are these idiots?

She stops herself short when she hears a light ticking beneath her. She lowers herself to the body of the main guy and frowns. What is that ticking? She rips open his shirt, not caring that the buttons are flying off. Pure hatred for this man is all she feels when she notices that he’s a suicide bomber. That explains his freakin’ dark skin, long beard and everything. It was a trap. They didn’t underestimate her. The bomb on his chest ticks away, there’s only three minutes left.