Floored 'N Floured- A Mafia Love Story

CHAPTER THREE- MATEO

s**t!

Why does everything hurt so much? I can't even get my eyes to open, what the f**k happened? Slowly, as my senses recover bit by bit my panic increases and my instincts sharpen. Am I under attack? Have I been abducted? Tony… that motherfucker…

With a loud gasp, I get up from my previous position and instantly regret it. I happened to be on a couch and in a haste to protect myself from some invisible and non-existent threat, ended up falling to the floor, face first. And let me tell you, that s**t hurts. The first thing that falls in my line of sight is the coffee table in front of me and the small white paper kept on top of it.

To,

Mr. Suits.

I have a vague suspicion that this Mr. Suits is me. When did that happen? Where the f**k am I? Maybe the answers all lie in that piece of paper. Hoping for the same, I open it and begin reading what appears to be a letter to me.

Dear,

Mr. I don't know your name.

I hope you find this letter once you wake up and I sincerely hope that when you do, you feel better. I found you last night in an alleyway, all banged up and bloodied. I wanted to get you to a hospital but I'd read enough books and watched enough crime dramas to deduce the fact that you might not thank me for that. I patched you up as much as I could and in so, unfortunately had to burn a wound on your back that wouldn't have stopped bleeding otherwise. I'm really sorry if I've f****d you up in an attempt to help you, but I tried… I promise.

You may have a headache because of that big bump on your head and you might also feel super dizzy because of the blood loss. You may also not remember things (I googled this s**t…)

So here's some instructions for you-

1) Please have the juice and fruits I've kept for you in the fridge. You need the sugar. There's also some granola bars for when you feel upto eating more solid foods. (I've handmade them, without nuts so you won't have to worry about preservatives or allergies.)

2) Please find the landline phone that's in the bedroom (fortunately this AirBnB had one) and call your friends, family or cops. You definitely need to be checked out.

3) Your knife, the one strapped under your pants just above your shoes, and the small usb drive that was strapped to the inside of your suit jacket are both in an envelope on the kitchen counter. (Haven't seen the contents of the USB, I promise)

4)I'm really sorry about your shirt and jacket… I had to cut them off to help you. I've left an old t-shirt that I own in the bedroom, hopefully it'll fit. Wear it.

5)The booking for this place ends tomorrow. Please leave before the checkout time or else I'll be in huge, huge trouble.

That's it I guess…

Please do take care. I don't think I'll be able to appear everytime you end up getting hurt, you know…

With best wishes,

Your Cara.

(You kept calling me that last night when I was busy patching you up. Also, just to let you know I wasn't being 'handsy' or 'taking advantage of your incapacitated state', merely fixing you up. Your welcome)

My body hurts like hell, my limbs are protesting with every little movement but if this was what my last memory is supposed to be, I really want to be able to remember all of this. Some random stranger brings me to this… wait.

WHERE THE f**k AM I?

There's this pounding ache at the back of my head, courtesy of that bump this letter mentions and my back hurts like a b***h. I slowly get up, keeping the letter back on the table and taking support of the couch and the walls, reaching what I'm thinking is the bedroom this 'your Cara' mentioned. Obviously a woman… some chick picked me up and I don't even remember it. Worst nightmare ever.

The bedroom has this full length mirror that I go and stand in front of and take stock of my injuries. I'm bare chested, my pants are smeared with dried blood and dust and there's scratches all over my body, like I rolled in gravel or something the previous night. I might have even done so, who knows? There's a gash on my cheek, nicely cleaned and covered with… is that... what the f**k is that?

Some yellow paste covers not just that wound but also every major scrape and gash on my body, including the one on my back. It's pretty bad from what I can make out. The area surrounding the wound on my back is a sickly bluish-purple and looks a bit aggravated, but it doesn't hurt that bad when I touch it. Maybe this yellow paste, whatever it is actually helps and if I do believe the letter then that means this person knew what they were doing. Burning a deep gash to stop the blood and preventing infections, pretty smart or maybe this person just happened to be a doctor or a nurse and knew their stuff.

Other than all of this my body looks and feels just fine, my head feels like I've banged it on a wall the entire night but at least it's still in place. The only motherfucking problem? I don't f*****g remember what happened last night. And the minute I try to remember? Fucker starts pounding harder. Fortunately I do remember who I am, and where I am but the last few hours are a complete blur and I have zero, absolutely zero memory of this 'cara' and her magical saving hands.

In the reflection I also see the promised t-shirt laying neatly folded on the bed behind me. In the midst of all the panic I never noticed but the scent left behind in this place made me feel better somehow, soothed me… it felt familiar even. The same scent was all over the t-shirt and it drove me f*****g crazy. It makes me want to find out who this person was… who this belongs to. But I can't. I may not remember the events of last night but I sure as hell pissed someone enough for them to want to kick my ass that bad and something seriously wrong must've happened for me to be separated from Mike and Lorenzo. That's my first priority now, getting in touch with them.

As promised there's also the landline, working and my god… this angel even left me country codes. Makes me want to grab her from wherever she is and tie her to me for the rest of her life. f**k! I've never felt the need to have a woman around me for more than a few hours and I already want this stranger tied to me… She sounds worthy of being a Donna..

No. I need to reign my thoughts in. For all I know this could be some old ass cat lady or an underage kid. Maybe she'd be married or engaged or have a boyfriend… (that made me chest contract painfully, which I ignored for my own sanity)

Thankfully I do remember the emergency number we have and immediately go to dial it. It's a number every member of the family needs to know by heart as soon as they're inducted. In case they are ever captured or arrested or stuck somewhere, this is the number to be called for help.

"Russo's ice cream parlor, how can I help you?" Comes the ever chirpy voice of Nolan Russo, an old family friend and the man who handles the calls on our emergency number.

"Nolan, it's me, Mateo. 55-786-09. f*****g get me the hell out of this place. Call Lorenzo. No one else, you understand me?"

"Yes, thank you for placing your order. I'll make sure the goods are delivered immediately. Have a nice day!" He says and promptly ends the call.

Have a nice day- my ass…

It takes barely fifteen minutes for the cavalry to arrive. Everyone looks okay except for Lorenzo who looks as banged up as me, sporting a black eye, a patch on his neck and his left arm in a sling. Again… what the actual f**k happened last night? Surprisingly Mike hadn't shown up with the rest of them and my thoughts immediately flew to the fact that he may be even more injured. That makes me feel uneasy but I mask that, not wanting my men to see me worried or upset.

As soon as a few of them get inside what I now know as a standalone house, they begin cleaning the place, getting rid of any evidence that I was ever here and I'm asked to go wait in the car. I'd already put on the t-shirt left for me and pocketed my knife, the USB and the letter, and went to go sit down in a more familiar setting immediately.

"Find out who this place belongs to and who stayed here. Right now." I command Lorenzo when he gets in right after me, but am met with complete silence.

"Did you not hear me?"

"I did boss. Not now," he begs. Lorenzo never f*****g begs and that gets me to shut up. I have a feeling things got more ugly than I thought they did last night and our lives may still be under threat here.

The clean-up ends and we leave for the airport at such a speed that it feels like we're some kinda fugitives. We might even be now, who knows?

"Your father has issued a kill-on-sight for Tony and any of his men seen in the states or Rome…" he informs me when we get seated in our private plane that leaves the runway as soon as we get in. No pre-flight checks in my presence, no attendants, nothing. s**t definitely hit the fan last night…

"Will someone finally tell me what happened last night?" I ask in the most controlled tone that I can muster in the moment.

My body is tense, palms clenched into fists at the armrests and there's a deadly look on my face. Most of the men clear off and pretend to do something else or else sleep and Lorenzo just sighs deeply before leaning back in his seat and closing his eyes.

"Tony was never going to sell us the diesel. It was a set-up. Either you or the Don, whoever would've turned up to that meet was destined to be a target. He had a sniper in place. Mike got shot. He's fine though…" he immediately clarifies because of the look I give him and then continues, "as soon as the first shot rang, you got Tony by his neck and pinned him to the wall. I couldn't pull you off, your grip was too tight that's when one of his guys stabbed you in the back and the other one got me good with a wooden plank. Somehow our men, who were in the market knew nothing about the commotion until after most of the damage was done. By the time they came in, you and I had fought with a few of those Arabs and gotten Mike out. That's when you got the one on your head too, Tony did that with a piece of wood too." He finished with a deep frown on his face, ashamed of the fact that he had failed to protect his boss and next Don.

He shouldn't be. If there's anyone who needs to take any blame here is Tony first and then my dearest father- thinking about building relationships and allies. Allies my foot! Tony was never worth my time or the effort we put in, I knew something was off about him and the meeting since day one but my own father chose to ignore my concerns.

Now here we are…

Wanting to comfort him in some way, I take out the letter and hand it to him along with flashing him a glimpse of the USB drive that was still safe with me. The effect is almost immediate, his posture relaxes a bit and he slumps down in his seat, now slowly opening the piece of paper to read.

For the next ten minutes there's complete silence as he reads and re-reads the letter, and that f*****g infuriates me. What's he gonna find in that huh? Code word message? Identity of 'my Cara'? "Will you say something?" I probe, thoroughly irritated by his 'silence is golden' kinda attitude.

Even though Mike is supposed to be my right hand man, I feel more close and trusting of Lorenzo. It's just something about him that sits well with me. But then again, Mike was assigned by my dad and unless I have full control over the family, I can't do jack s**t.

"I feel like I've seen this writing before…" he mutters so lowly I almost miss what he had just said.

"What do you mean?"

"I don't… nothing sorry. So, no idea who this is? You don't remember some chick patching you up?" He asks, his thick Italian accent now showing up in full force. I had none of it being born and brought up in America but a lot of the men in our family did have an accent. The accent got them conveniently laid every now and then too so… no complaints there.

"I don't remember anything after… my glass of whiskey. The one I had in the hotel room. I hardly even remember the meeting, just glimpses and that too after hearing your version of the events" I sau dejectedly.

"Well then… we'll have doctor Moore check you as soon as we land. Can't have you running around with amnesia now, can we?" He says, a sly smirk on his face that manages to pull a small smile on my face as well.

"What about Mike?"

"Flew him out last night. He must've reached the compound by now I'm sure" and with that all conversation ceases for the remainder of the flight.

"Anyone picked up the things kept inside the fridge of that place in Istanbul?" It's the first thing I ask everyone as soon as we get off the plane and onto the tarmac at JFK.

"Uh… what stuff boss?" One of them asks.

How the f**k could I have forgotten about that? The fruits and that granola bar whatever… she kept it for me and I forgot about it… I'm wallowing in self pity and slight anger when the last of my men gets down holding a few bags in their hands and eating what I can only assume is some kind of a chocolate or an energy bar. And then upon closer inspection I see the Tupperware box in their hands and realisation hits me like a truck.

MY f*****g GRANOLA BARS!

"Where the f**k did you get those?" I hit at them harshly. The poor guys start shaking on the spot, some newbies I assume, not wanting to anger their boss on day one. That ship has already sailed my friends…

"I- we f-found these… the house…" they begin to stutter and all my questions are answered. Those are indeed the goodies my Cara left me, in the hands of those two little monsters. I walk towards them, a blazing purpose in every step, snatch the box from their hands and blast out at them; right there at the tarmac.

"Have you no sense? Brains and understanding gone for a motherfucking toss? You just randomly pick stuff from a stranger's home? What if this was poisoned huh? Just cause there's free stuff doesn't mean you need to shove it down your throats…" I scream at them with so much venom in my voice that they practically recoil and run away from me. Well they deserved it. Apart from the fact that these were for me and I want to jealously protect them for my consumption only, I do have a fair point. What if it were to actually be poisoned?

In our family we don't take to the deaths of our members lightly, doesn't matter what rank they're at, doesn't matter if they're young or old. Everyone who's part of the family is equally important.

Finally we pile up in the cars, Lorenzo giving me an amused stare ever since the energy bar showdown, and move towards… Home.