The Mafia Part II: April's Return

Chapter 3

Zander gaped at the tiny menace seated before him in disbelief. He swung his incredulous gaze at Henry, but the other man promptly avoided his piercing eyes, clearly not wanting to get in the middle of it all.

“This is not a game, April,” he spat impatiently. “I have plans and the last thing you want to do is come between me and something I want.”

April shrugged unrepentantly, as if she had no care in the world.

“The way I see it, you have two options,” she said with a self-satisfied grin. “You either sit down and join us for the quiet evening in that we’re planning, or you could go try to find the keys. I’m completely fine with either one.”

As the seconds ticked by and he realised that his companion actually meant what she was saying, Zander turned on his heels and stormed out of the room dramatically. The two watched with barely concealed amusement as he disappeared from their sight.

“What happens if he actually finds the keys?” Henry asked curiously as he switched on the TV and browsed through their Netflix collection.

“He won’t,” April responded with complete certainty. “But if he does, then he’ll have earned it and I won’t stand in his way.”

Henry smiled at her appreciatively as they settled on a mutually agreed upon cult documentary.

Neither of them were particularly surprised when a mere half hour had passed before Zander came back into the room and threw himself on an empty sofa with a huff.

“Something tells me you’re going to have a lot of cleaning up to do in your room after this,” Henry commented lightly.

“You have a point,” April said as she side-eyed their newest addition, who had taken on the mien of a kicked puppy. “I can bet you anything it’s in shambles right now.

Wordlessly, Zander got up again and returned momentarily with a vaguely familiar bottle, surprising the two of them when he also brought along three glasses instead of one. April was very certain it was a particularly expensive scotch he had been saving for a special occasion. She shared a glance with Henry and was certain he was thinking the same thing.

Zander poured three fingers of the stuff for each of them. While Henry readily accepted it, April was much more cautious. For one thing, an expensive scotch was lost on her. She did not possess the palette to appreciate it. For another… well, it seemed very unwise to ingest anything from someone she had only just pissed off. Both men saw her hesitation and could not control their responding laughter.

“I’m not going to f*****g poison you, April,” Zander chuckled warmly.

“I know that!” April said defensively. “I’m not an i***t. I saw the bottle’s intact seal before you opened it.”

Henry found it noteworthy that her reasoning was not that Zander would never do something like that to her. Very interesting indeed.

“Then, why the clear mistrust?” Zander challenged.

“Because I know you’ve had this bottle for months,” she retorted. “Why would you just randomly open it? It makes no sense. Are you trying to butter me up? We both know that won’t work.”

Zander snorted. “No, I’m quite aware of how unable you are of appreciating a good bottle of scotch.”

“Then what’s all this in aid of?” Henry chimed in, curiosity getting the better of him as well.

“If you must know,” Zander admitted, with a genuine twinkle in his eye. “It just never occurred to me that I could be defeated by something as elementary as a locked door. Usually it takes weeks of precision and planning to get one over on me and little Miss Reluctant Mafia Princess over here just waited for me to get distracted before she swooped in for the kill. You’ve earned this drink, April.”

The ‘princess’ in question tilted her head to the side as she took in the strange visage before her. Even at his most genuine, Zander could not resist throwing a barb or two in his praise. She wondered if he was even consciously aware of doing it or if these words just naturally slipped from his lips. Still, she could tell he meant well in his own misguided way, so she let a small smile grace her lips.

“I’m pretty sure you’re trying to get me to lower my inhibitions in the hopes that I’ll let some vital information slip, but you’ll give up on that soon enough,” April said with a smirk as she took a sip from her drink. She quickly used her tongue to swipe at her bottom lip when a bitter drop or two escaped her open mouth.

She looked up at that very moment and felt a bit unsettled when she found Zander’s gaze resting on her face. She had no idea where his eyes were focussed, but she tentatively glanced away and heaved a sigh of relief when she saw that the entire scene had been missed by Henry, who had his eyes closed, savouring the lousy tasting beverage at the moment.

A smug, knowing smirk made itself known on Zander’s face when he noticed how flustered he had managed to make her at that moment. Thankfully, he had some decency not to call any attention to it and revelled in his satisfaction silently.

“I’m surprised you didn’t just kick one of the doors down,” Henry said, eyes once more on the TV.

“It would call unnecessary attention to us,” April reasoned. “He may be reckless, but he isn’t foolhardy.”

Zander gave an affirmative grunt in response to that. Even their housekeeping had spent the day walking around eggshells; unsure whether or not they were catering to a murderer. Coming into work to see a broken door would surely be enough to send some of them off into a panic.

“So, what are we watching?” he asked as he seamlessly kicked off his dress shoes and lay back against one of the sofas, clearly having given up any hope of leaving for the evening.

In lieu of answering him, Henry restarted the episode all over again, considering that it had not passed the halfway mark yet. April knew it would be of no interest to Zander. Much like his life, the man preferred to have his entertainment consist of graphic violence. Still, it seemed that the alcohol mainly shared by the two men was enough to lull him into a state of calm. Two hours passed by in relative silence until she felt her eyelids begin to droop.

April stood up calmly and swallowed the last sip of the rancid scotch. She had a feeling neither of them would take kindly to her wasting even a drop of it. She stretched languidly before she fixed her gaze on Zander, only to find him already watching her.

“We have to leave soon,” she said softly, drawing both men’s attention to her. It was an unspoken understanding that had taken hold over all of them the entire day. Their time here was coming to an end.

“Way ahead of you,” Zander said perkily.

“Cape Town,” she announced before he could get a chance to say any more.

“What?” Zander asked, as if he had not heard her clearly.

“I’ve always wanted to go, and if I choose the next location, I at least have some assurance that you won’t go on another mission,” April declared.

“Hang on, princess,” Zander said haughtily. “Who put you in charge?”

“That’s just the point, isn’t it?” asked April as she tiredly scrubbed her hand down her face. “Neither of us are in charge, but we need each other. We both know what happens if we aren’t on the same page. I don’t trust you not to turn the next place you choose into an assassination attempt. Cape Town.”

Zander glared at her before he slouched back down, defeated. “Fine.”

“Are you coming with us, Henry?” she asked their newest companion.

“Of course,” the blond said with an easy smile, and April felt relieved at that. She could feel things were about to come to a head with Zander and Henry was the perfect buffer between them. If she had her way, he would be a permanent addition to their motley crew.

April bid goodnight to the both of them, but stopped briefly at the bottom of the stairs when she heard Zander speaking under his breath.

“Someone’s in for a rude awakening.”

It did not take a rocket scientist to figure out what he meant. She opened her room and was not surprised in the least to see the chaotic mess that Zander had left in his wake looking for the keys. Her clothes were strewn all over the floor, as well as the entirety of her luggage. The drawers in which she had so diligently arranged her toiletries and underwear were also pulled out and thrown to the ground. Her mattress had been undressed and was no longer on the bed. Even some of the chairs had been turned upside down. She could tell that the last one had been done in a fit of rage, rather than through meticulous searching.

She merely shook her head in puzzlement and dragged the heavy mattress back onto the bed-frame. She barely had enough energy to properly dress the bed before she fell onto it, sleep claiming her as soon as her head hit the pillow. That night, for the first time in over eight months, her nightmares did not consist of Angelo.