Indebted to the Mafia King

*Heidi*

I step out of the shower and put on a set of comfortable sweats. The weather in New York City has been merciless lately, and even inside the apartment, I can still feel the cold wind blowing against the windows outside, seeping through cracks in the apartment I can't see.

I blow dry my hair in an attempt to warm myself, and that's why I don't hear my phone ringing the first two times. It's only when I decide to order something to eat since I don't feel like cooking anything that I notice I missed two calls.

Before I grab the phone to check who it is that called me, I can't stop myself from hoping it was Cal. But when I spot the unknown number, I roll my eyes. Of course he wouldn't call me. I ended that. He made it pretty clear that he doesn't intend to change his lifestyle, and since I'm not willing to give up on my principles either, I won't hear from him again. I should make peace with that instead of keeping my hopes up.

I'm about to put my phone down again, not really interested in knowing who it is that called me, when it rings again, surprising me.

"Hello?" I answer cautiously, my brows creased with confusion. I have no idea who it could be.

An idea that something might have happened to my grandparents crosses my mind, but I immediately shove it away. If something had happened to them, the nursing home would have called me using one of their main lines, and I have all of them saved on my contact list.

"Is this Heidi Sullivan?" a man asks on the other end. He sounds like someone important, his voice cold and firm.

"Who is this?" I ask, not comfortable giving away personal information to someone I don't know.

"I'm Tony, a friend of Cal's," he replies. There seems to be a commotion happening around him, which makes it hard for me to hear him clearly. "There's been a... fight, and Cal was... shot," he informs me slowly. "I need you not to panic. We're taking him to a doctor at a safe house. Hopefully, he'll make it."

I blink once, twice, completely paralyzed. What did he just say? Shot? As in... with a gun? A real gun?

Of course it was a real gun. You saw the arsenal he had at home. Why wouldn't it be a real gun, Heidi?

I'm trying to rationalize with myself, not wanting to interpret what these words could mean. What is a safe house? Why aren't they taking him to a real hospital?

"Heidi?” Tony calls, his voice sounding distant and edged with urgency

"Is he going to die?" I finally manage to ask. I don't recognize my own voice. My heart feels like it has left my chest, sinking to my stomach and staying there.

"I can't make you any promises," Cal says-not what I wanted to hear. "But we'll do our best to save him."

I can't believe what I'm hearing. Tears begin to fall down my cheeks as I ask, "H-how is he now?"

"It's hard to say. The doctor's not here yet, and he's passed out," Tony explains. "But he's a tough guy, and I've seen him go through worse."

He seems to be trying to convince himself of that fact, but at this point, I will hold onto whatever hope and positive thoughts I can. I wonder why he decided to call me to inform me of this. Is he one of the men who works at the bar? He might be. I haven't met all of them, and the ones I did, I don't know their names.

As if hearing my thoughts, he continues, "I thought you'd like to know, though. It might be your... last chance to see him."

Last.

Chance.

These are the only words I hear for the next few moments, being repeated inside my head over and over like a mantra, until I forget I'm still on the phone.

"How can I come and see him?" I blurt. For all I know, peop;e who aren't members of the mafia aren't allowed in such places. I'm not that familiar with how the mafia works, but I've seen movies before, and I'm guessing these are universal rules between them.

“I can make it happen. I'll send someone to pick you up," Tony explains. "We can't risk having anyone follow you. I hope you understand that."

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I nod sharply even though he can't see me. "Yes, of course. I understand."

I shouldn't want to go. I should want to keep my distance and take this as an example

of why I should stay away from Cal-and his lifestyle. I made up my mind an hour ago, so why am I changing it now?

"I'm sending a car to pick you up. Make sure to check the plate before getting inside," Tony instructs me.

My stomach twists with apprehension. There's so much cautiousness involved in this situation that it leaves me on edge. But it's for a good reason. I need to make sure Cal survives. This can't be the end of him. This can't be the end of us. None of my previous reasons to leave him seem to make sense now, no matter how hard I try to force them to.

"I'll text you the plate and the name of the driver," Tony concludes.

I take a deep breath. My hands are shaking, my heart is pounding like crazy, and my mouth is dry. I'm so scared that I can't even think about what I'll find once I get to this safe house. I just need to see Cal and make sure he is okay. He can't die!

"Save him! Please?" I beg, tears continuing to stream down my face.

Tony inhales sharply before answering me. "Like I said before, I can't promise you anything, but we're doing everything we can. I know that's not what you want to hear right now, but I won't give you false hope."

I swallow a sob, forcing myself to appear tough on the outside. I can't be weak and unsteady if I want to be with someone like Cal. I have no idea if I'm ready to give up on all of my beliefs yet. The only thing I can think of right now is that I can't lose him. He

is the only man who has ever mattered to me, no matter how many times I repeat to myself that I will find happiness again with someone else.

I don't believe it for a second.

"I understand that, too," I finally say.

"I know you guys aren't on the best terms, but he needs you to be strong for him right now," Tony encourages me.

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"I will be. I'm heading downstairs now," I inform him, not bothering to take anything with me other than the apartment's key and the phone in my hand. I slip on a pair of shoes I left by the door. Then, I head for the door and take the elevator. My heart is beating a mile a minute, all sorts of thoughts running through my head while I wait. I'm struggling to control my tears and my emotions.

I said so many things to Cal that I regret now. He probably thinks I hate him. He probably thinks I don't give a damn about whether he lives or dies. It kills me to even consider the idea of him leaving this world without knowing how I feel about him.

I told him that his love was not enough for me... How could I be so cold? How could I reject his love like that? Now, all I want is to hear him say he loves me one more time. But there's no guarantee that will happen. None of this is in my control now. It's all up to fate now.

A car pulls up to the sidewalk, and I take a step back inside the building. The windows are so tinted that it matches the black color of the car. It looks similar to the vehicle that have been following me, but it's from a different make and model, and honestly, it looks more expensive, too, now that I'm paying more attention.

I check the plate twice, looking at the text Tony just sent, and only get inside the car when the driver lowers the passenger's window and gives me his name. It's the same guy Tony told me would come for me, so when I'm certain he isn't someone who will kidnap me, I climb inside, praying that Cal is alive by the time we arrive.

"Is Cal okay?" I ask the driver after a few minutes of silence.

He's driving through the streets of New York, speeding in and out of traffic as if he is in a Formula 1 race. It leaves me slightly anxious, but to be honest, I'm in just as much of a hurry to get to Cal as he is-more even. Also, he seems to be pretty skilled, so that makes me feel a bit more secure.

"I can't really say, miss," he answers, his eyes focused on the road ahead. "If you want

to hear the truth, though, he didn't look so good the last time I saw him."

My heart shrinks, and I feel short of breath. Not being able to see and check on Cal for myself makes it all so much worse. Being in the dark is excruciating.

"How long until we get there?" I press, not wanting to give too much space to the intrusive thoughts in my head. It's counterproductive, and I need to be in my best state when I arrive. I need to be strong for Cal, like Tony told me, and I can't do that if I freak out and cry when I see him-whatever state he's in.

The driver checks the clock on the panel and shrugs slightly. "I'd say fifteen more minutes, if I can get out of this fucking traffic."

I lean back in the seat, closing my eyes and inhaling sharply. Fifteen minutes feel like

an eternity, but soon, we are entering through heavy, metal gates that are protected by men with guns, big ones. The driver comes to a stop in front of a mansion. Then he steps out of the car and I fly out of the passenger side of the car, barely waiting for him to tell me where to go.

"First door to your left!"noveldrama