We grew up dirt poor, mostly because our father gambled away all of our money, so money isn’t a strong suit for either of us. Dad was always gone, out looking for his next fix or for a bookie that would loan him money and take his bet.
I’m only two years older than him, but I grew up taking care of him as if he were my own child. I cleaned the house and made sure he had everything he needed. We made dinner time into a game of who could come up with the most creative combination of canned goods. We’d add stale goldfish to a tuna noodle casserole or garlic to buttered noodles and call it gourmet. It wasn’t until after our mom left that I realized we were the definition of poverty.
My only priority was to get Johnny out of this life. I repeated it like a mantra. When the world was crumbling around me I focused all of my attention on him, getting him through this part of our lives.
Once we grew up this was all supposed to end.
And then we grew up. Dad’s still a miserable alcoholic and Johnny is too close to following in his footsteps.
I felt like a disappointment.
I ushered my clearly high and heavily bruised brother into my apartment, The word failure echoed through my head.
I’m the only person he has, and I still can’t help him pull his life together.
But I also can’t help but be mad at him for getting me into this mess.
“You never called me back,” I tell him, leading him to the couch.
“I’m sorry Annie.” his voice is sad, pleading.
I face him. “I just wanted to know you were okay.” I take in his appearance. His face has some old yellow bruises lingering, his body looks skinnier, and he’s babying his right arm, holding it tightly against his chest.
“What did they do to you?”
“You don’t want to know.” He tells me, sinking deeper into my sofa.
I rub the aching muscles at the back of my neck. “Probably not.” I agree, if he tells me how badly Frank beat him up there's a chance I’ll take it out on Gio and that won’t help either of us.
“I’m okay.” He adds.
“You’re alive.”
“Yeah,” he stifles a laugh.
“How’s Rob?”
“He pissed himself.” Johnny smiles at the memory, “But he’s fine.”
I frown. “That’s awful.”
“It could have been worse.” we sit in silence for a moment before his gaze reaches back up to me. “I should thank you, ya know. For saving me. He was going to kill me.”
I fold my arms across my chest. “It was a bad plan.”
“It worked.” he shrugs.
“Barely.” I purse my lips.
“But it did.” He leans forward placing his elbows onto his knees. He uses his hands to hold his head. He looks like a kid. Like the baby brother I raised. “Annie,” he begins, his tone serious. “You just got an in to the fucking mob. Do you realize that? We’re set for life.”
He’s happy with himself. Proud even. His matching blue eyes meet mine with a look of delight.
Anger floods my body, red glossing over my eyes. “Is that really what you think happened?”
This man. My baby brother. Is a fucking idiot.
“Johnny, they could have killed us! And he’s using me for a job, if I fuck up we could still lose our lives. Do you understand that?”
“An-”
“No, listen to me, for once. Stay under the fucking radar. Don’t do anything that could get you killed and let me finish this out, okay?”
He nods dismissively. “Okay. Fine.” He stands, dusting off his jeans and heading for the door. That’s how he is, unable to take any type of negativity. Everything has to be on his terms.
“Please, Johnny,” I add. “Don’t make me lose you too.”
His face softens as he looks back to me. “You won’t lose me Annie.”
Somehow I doubt that.
The city animal shelter is an oasis of sorts for me. Rows and rows of happy, fluffy animals beg for my attention. I often come here when I’m sad, or stressed, or happy. Any emotion is the right emotion to seek comfort from these little cuties.
I want to take one home more than anything, but I don’t have a schedule that allows for an animal, especially not a dog who requires a lot of attention. Now that Gio owns half of my life I barely see the inside of my apartment unless I’m sleeping or changing clothes. That doesn’t stop me from visiting the shelter though.
“Are you adopting a dog?” His breath hits the base of my neck as his husky voice infiltrates my ears. I jump at the sound, but I don’t have to turn around to know it’s Gio.
“Jeez,” I stammer, spinning on my heels to face him. “Are you stalking me?”
A grin spreads wide on his face. “Tracking, actually.” He holds up his phone to show me an app with a pin on my location.
My own phone feels heavier in my pocket. For a minute I forgot that my every movement was watched. I feel like a piece of property, owned by the mobster.
“What do you want then?” I purse my lips, and cross my arms over my chest.
“Just following up.” he leans casually against the cinderblock wall that separates the dog kennels.
I haven’t seen him in a week, since he took me running. He looks good as ever, my memory doesn’t do him justice. He’s dressed in all black from the leather shoes on his feet to his suit and
