Turning Point||Book 2

24: Romano.

The lead hadn't been a dead end. As the evening wore on, Jerry's SUV finally pulled up in front of his wife's house. I watched from the car as he stepped out. Approaching the set of stairs between himself and the front door, his demeanor tense. Xenia and I exchanged glances before focusing on him again.

Jerry began to climb.

From our vantage point, we observed as the man knocked on the door, met by a woman who stood a head shorter than him, her eye roll evident even from a distance. Soon, they were engaged in a heated exchange on the balcony, their voices carrying faintly through the still evening air, emotions unmistakable despite the obscured words.

One might have expected the argument to revolve around his tardiness or perhaps his choice of vehicle for the weekend, but it seemed to be over something as trivial as the manner in which he had knocked.

"Ah, now it makes sense," Xenia said aloud, her attention fully absorbed by the altercation between the man and his wife.

Eager to grasp her insight, I inquired, "What do you mean?"

"Two things," she replied swiftly, elaborating, "why she'd rather cook than bother with Jerry, and why Jerry doesn't seem to mind that she's not the one warming his bed."

Perplexed, I pressed for clarification, and Xenia graciously took the time to decode the situation, eyes on me.

"Firstly, it's clear that the man unsettles her. And secondly, she looks significantly older, almost a decade or more." She huffed out a soft sigh in exasperation. "He's a fool, no matter how you look at it."

The car fell silent, our conversation halting as we listened to the continued commotion of the couple. The yelling, gesturing, and occasional retreats continued until a young boy emerged from the doorway, observing the scene. Only then did the couple take the hint to quiet down.

Jerry remained outside, sending his son in to retrieve his belongings as he paced anxiously on the small balcony. Once the boy had left and they were alone again, he moved closer to his wife, forcefully grasping her chin in a menacing grip.

"What the hell?" Xenia gasped, appalled by the sudden violence unfolding before us.

I, on the other hand, had watched my father go farther than this with my mother. The wife seemed to stiffen in resignation rather than defense.

"I'm not surprised," Xenia muttered bitterly and shrugged. "What's next? Will he throw her over the balcony and take her son?"

Suppressing a scoff, I replied, "Or tear her top to shreds."

My joke evaporated as I recalled Jerry's previous actions towards Xenia. He was despicable, and it was clear he needed a lesson in how to be a real man – a lesson I was more than willing to deliver.

"Romano, what's your plan?"

I began to pull away from the curb. Though I still wanted to keep Jerry under surveillance, now that I knew more about his wife, her address, and the strain in their relationship, I realized there was a better way to handle Jerry that involved putting his son and other people he cared about at risk. That antic usually delivered best.

I veered off Jerry's route and parked at a new vantage point, waiting until he had driven off before opening the door. "Let's go. We're walking," I said, stepping out of the car.

"To where?" A perplexed frown creased her brow as she reluctantly followed suit. "Where are we going, Romano?"

Slamming the car door shut, I gestured towards the street we had just left. "Back to his wife."