by B. B. Hamel
7
Owain
I let Leigh decompress for a day before dragging her out of bed early Saturday morning.
“We got a meeting,” I said as she sat up and pulled the covers over her chin.
She could hide all she wanted. But I still tasted that kiss on my tongue.
“Meeting?”
“I know I told you that you’d never meet Hedeon. Looks like I was wrong.”
Her eyes got wide. “Your boss?”
“That’s the one. Get up and get dressed.”
I left her room and went downstairs. I poured some coffee and sat in front of the TV. The news talked about some gas explosion in the suburbs, about car jackings and a cop that got shot but miraculously survived, but I tuned it all out. I kept thinking about Leigh and her lips and her shop and the men that tried to kill her.
The place was a wreck. I hadn’t let her see it yet. One of the idiot motorcycle fucks had piled up all the shirts on top of a couch and set them on fire. When I got there, a toothless fuck was pouring water on top of it and talking to himself. I took him out with a single shot to the brain.
But the shop was fucked. The fire didn’t spread too much and my guys were able to come in with fire extinguishers and put it all out. The couch made a ton of smoke, probably since it was old as hell and way too flammable. That smoke seeped into all the shirts, which meant even those that didn’t get burnt were still destroyed.
The guys gutted the place and were airing it out. Next week, we’d have to rebuild.
I didn’t know how to break it to her. So I was waiting until I had a better idea of how to move forward.
She came downstairs twenty minutes later wearing a pair of light jeans and a top that hugged her chest. Her hair was piled up on top of her head and she leaned against the bannister with an odd expression on her face.
“What? You’re giving me some look.”
“I’m just trying to understand how bad things are right now.”
“They’re not bad.”
“You killed a guy.”
I waved that off. “He’s just another body at the bottom of the Schuylkill right now.”
“I don’t want to hear that.”
“And yet it’s true. What else do you want to know?”
“That gang. The Jackals. Are they going to come back?”
“They might.”
She seemed to accept that. “And this meeting with Hedeon. Why are you bringing me?”
“Because you’re a part of it.” I stood up and stretched. “You want coffee before we go?”
She didn’t move. “Come on. You don’t do things without a good reason.”
“You were there when they attacked. And to be honest, I want Hedeon to meet you.”
“Why?”
“Because if shit gets worse, I want him to know that you can be trusted.”
She frowned and tried to process that. “You think… he’d kill me? If things got bad?”
“He might suspect you of something. I want to assuage him before we get to that point.”
“Owain…”
“I get it. This is rough. You didn’t sing up for this. But unfortunately, this is the reality on the ground right now and you’re going to have to start accepting it.”
That pissed her off. I knew it would. I smiled a little as anger flashed over her face.
“I am accepting it. I’m accepting that you’re blackmailing me into being a drug dealer for you. I’m accepting that my store, my freaking life’s work, is practically in ashes right now. What I’m not accepting is you putting me in the middle of some war I didn’t even know about.”
“Now you know.”
“Asshole. What’s wrong with you?”
“You want a fucking list?” I stepped toward her, heart beating fast. I sipped my coffee and stared down into her pretty, defiant eyes.
“I want you to be honest with me.”
“I’m bringing you because I think you’re useful, and I want Hedeon to meet you. That’s all there is.”
She clenched her jaw. “Fine. I want some coffee.”
I nodded my head toward the kitchen. “Be my guest.”
She stormed off. I watched her go, stared at her ass, felt my anger wane.
It wasn’t her fault. She was still dealing with the trauma of those fucks breaking in, smacking her around, scaring her to hell, then getting killed. She’d been through a lot in the last couple weeks, and I knew she was doing her best to keep up.
But the girl needed to do better. Shit was about to get more difficult, and I could hold her hand through it all.
Even if that was what I wanted.
She was silent on the drive over. I parked outside of a plain rowhome on Mt. Vernon Avenue in Fairmount. It was a family neighborhood and a couple young kids, maybe ten or eleven, rode bikes along the sidewalk. An older couple sat on a stoop nearby listening to Salsa music. I turned to Leigh and gave her a second to look around.
“Hedeon’s not what you expect,” I said.
“How do you know what I expect?”
“You’re picturing a mob boss. But that’s not what he is.”
“But he’s the boss of a mafia, right?”
“Trust me. Try and forget your preconceived notions, alright?”
She shrugged. “I’ll do my best.”
“And be polite.” I opened my door. “This is his home.”
She gave me a weird look but got out. The sidewalk was twice as wide here as in other places in the city. I nodded at the woman with her husband and she gave me a nice smile as I walked up to Hedeon’s door.
I knocked and waited while Leigh lingered a few feet away. She seemed confused by the family and the kids riding their bikes
Hedeon answered a few seconds later. He was tall, broad shoulders, light eyes. Reddish blonde hair covered his chin and cheeks, which was a new look for him. His hair was a little too long and swept to the side. He wore a pair of round glasses and a shawl collar cardigan.
He looked like a rough but handsome college professor. Nobody would guess that he was the head of the second most powerful crime family in the city.
“Owain,” he said. “And you brought a guest.”
“Hedeon.” I shook his hand then stepped aside. “This is Leigh.”
“Nice to meet you.” Hedeon smiled at her and extended his hand.
For a second, I thought the girl might be stupid enough to turn him down. But instead she came up the stoop and shook.
“Likewise.”
He nodded his head. “Come in. I made tea.”
She gave me an odd look and I just smiled then gestured for her to go ahead. She walked past me and followed Hedeon into his house.
The halls were dim and bare. The main living room had a large pale yellow touch with several plants hanging from the ceiling and standing in large pots around the deep window. Books were piled on the floor around the television. Hedeon took us into the kitchen and gestured at the large oak table. Several newspapers were piled at the far end.
I took a seat. Leigh pulled out the chair next to me. Hedeon brought over a tray with a light gray teapot and three mugs. He poured me some, then looked at Leigh.
“Tea?”
“Please.”
He filled her mug, handed it over. He finished with himself then sat, crossing his ankles. His feet were bare and calloused.
Leigh added milk to her tea and looked like she couldn’t decide if this was all some kind of elaborate joke.
“So, Owain.” Hedeon kept his hands in his lap and looked at me. “I hear you had some trouble.”
“Jackals. Clifton must’ve sent them after me.”
“How’d they know about the store?”
“Leigh says they followed me around. One of the guys admitted it.”
Hedeon nodded then sipped his tea. He placed it ack down gently on the table.
“Clifton’s going to be trouble. Your little feud with him has been going on too long.”
“Do you think he meant for anyone to get hurt?”
I shook my head. “I don’t know what Clifton thinks anymore.”
Hedeon rubbed his eyes with his palms. “This is frustrating for me, you know that, don’t you? Just when we were starting to get established, this happens. Business has been very good, Owain. I don’t want to risk that because of some squabble.”
“I understand. I’d be glad to finish it, but I’d need muscle.”
“I’m not lending you any men. What you have will be enough.”
“If you think so.”
Hedeon frowned ever so slightly. “I thought strength was your thing. I didn’t know you’d want help.”
“I’m not stupid. The Jackals have twice as many men as I do. If I had the whole crew—”
“You don’t have the whole crew.” Hedeon stared at me. “Your feud got you into this, and you’ll get out of it. I’m not going to risk the tenuous peace we’ve built.”
I nodded and pushed back against the rising anger. Leigh sipped her tea and cleared her throat.
“Can I ask what this feud’s about?”
Hedeon looked at her like he was just remembering she was there. For a moment I thought he might get angry that she spoke out of turn.
Instead, he tilted his head and smiled. “You want to know?”
“I’m curious, since it almost got me killed.”
He laughed. “Do you want to tell her, Owain? Or should I do it? Although I think you’ll be more charitable.”
I grunted and leaned forward. “Clifton and I used to be friends.”
“That’s putting it mildly. They were close.” Hedeon gave me a look. “Be honest or I’ll tell it.”
I clenched my jaw and stared into Leigh’s eyes, trying to pretend like Hedeon wasn’t in the room. In my mind, it was just me and her lying in a bed together, her legs intertwined with mine.
“I met Clifton when I was young, sixteen maybe. We were best friends, got into a lot of shit together. We met Hedeon a few years later, and we both started out in the crew together. But Clifton got into bikes and found a different path. He left the club, no hard feelings.”
“So then why are you in a feud?” she asked.
“When he left, he took money with him. He says that money was his, and I say that money was mine. That’s what started it. Then shit spiraled from there. We went at each other for a couple years, fighting each other in the streets, that sort of petting shit. The feud quieted down, but I know he never got over it, and I’m the type to hold on to a grudge.”
“It was about money?”
“Not just money,” Hedeon said. “There was a girl.”
I looked away, blood boiling. “She was nothing. She wasn’t part of it.”
“Her name was Alexis. Clifton was in love with her.”
“So what’s it matter if he left with her?” Leigh asked. “Unless you loved her too?”
“She’s my cousin,” I said.
“Oh.” Leigh blinked a few times and leaned back in his chair. “So he stole money from you and left with your cousin.”
“They’re still together, I hear,” Hedeon said, smiling a little.
“You all think it’s so fucking funny,” I said, trying to conceal my anger and failing. “But if that was your family? And your money?”
Hedeon held up his hands. “I’d be angry too.”
“You don’t forget that shit.”
Leigh went quiet and picked up her tea. She blew on it then sipped it and stared at the tray for a long moment.
“I think I’d be angry too. At her as much as at him.”
I grunted in reply. Hedeon laughed.
“And now we’re all caught up on your drama,” Hedeon said. “So the question is, what do we do about it?”
“I’m here to ask for permission to hit back. If you won’t give me muscle, fine, I’ll use what I have. But I can’t let this go unanswered. Clifton went too far.”
Hedeon nodded. “I agree. He went much too far.”
“Good.” I looked at Leigh. “And you should know. She’s going to be around.”
“Part of your plan?”
“That’s right.”
Hedeon looked at her. “A year ago, you never would’ve met me, no matter how bad things got.”
“What changed?” she asked.
“Power. The dynamics in the city. A lot of things.” Hedeon shook his head and lifted his tea to his lips but didn’t think. “Are you sure you can handle being around Owain? He’s not exactly your average man.”
Leigh snorted. “That’s putting it mildly.”
“She can handle it,” I said. “She already saved one stash when she didn’t ahve to.”
“Alright.” Hedeon took a sip and put it down. “I’m going to give you a lot of freedom on this one. If you trust her, then I trust her. If you want to hit Clifton, then I’ll support your play. But that’s as far as I’ll go. I won’t stop you, but don’t expect reinforcements.”
“Fine. I can handle that.”
“Good.” Hedeon glanced back over at Leigh. “And if I were you, I’d be careful. I don’t know what this one has over you, or why you’re hanging around him, but I’m willing to bet he’s a lot smarter than you realize.”
I smirked at her. She looked back at me.
“I think you’re right,” she said.
“Come on.” I pushed my chair back. “We won’t take up any more of your time.”
Hedeon nodded. Leigh took one last sip and stood. She lingered there, her small frame seeming out of place in Hedeon’s kitchen. I wanted to walk to her, lift her off her feet, tasted the skin on her throat.
“Thanks for seeing me,” she said, and walked past me and into the living room.
I glanced at Hedeon and he gave me a small, appreciative nod.
I followed her back out, down the front hall, and through the door. She didn’t look back as he got into my car and leaned back in her seat.
I climbed into the driver’s side, but didn’t leave right away. The family listening to Salsa music laughed about something.
“You’re right,” she said, voice soft. “He’s not what I expected.”
“He’s the second most powerful man in the city. Give him a few years, and he’ll be number one.”
“I believe you.”
I leaned toward her. “But you, little diamond, you were good. You were very good. Asked the right things. Said the right things. I’m very happy I brought you.”
She met my gaze and I couldn’t read her expression.
“Are things about to get really bad?”
I reached out and touched her cheek. “Not for you. Now come on. Let’s go back to the house and relax for the day. What do you say?”
She shrugged and turned her head away from me. She looked out the window and stared at the sidewalk.
Poor little diamond. Trapped in my house, stuck in a war she didn’t want.
And yearning for a man she probably hated.
I started the car and drove back home.
8
Leigh
I spent the rest of the day hiding away in my room. I heard Owain bang around downstairs and while I was tempted to go see what he was doing, I kept myself locked away.
I felt like I still had the smell of smoke in my hair.
But after a few boring hours I finally pulled on something clothes and wandered down the steps. It was night out, just past eight, and I found Owain sitting on the couch with a glass of something brown in one hand and his feet up on the coffee table. A football game played on the TV. He glanced toward me and a small smile registered at the corner of his lips.
“There she is. Thought you might’ve died.”
“Still alive.” I took a few steps toward him then stopped. “You’ve been here all day?”
“Even gangsters need a day off.”
“Right.” I looked at the TV awkwardly, not sure why I fe
lt like I needed to linger. Eventually I walked past him and into the kitchen. He said nothing, but I felt his eyes on my body as I passed.
I made some dinner and took it out to the dining room table. I could see the game from the far seat and eat as quietly as I could.
“You don’t have to hide.” He craned his neck to look at me. “I know you’re living here.”
“Living here? Or being kept captive here?”
He gestured, palms up. “Not much difference.”
I looked away. “I’m just trying to be a good guest.”
He barked a laugh and got up. I watched him walk past me and into the kitchen. He returned with a full glass a moment later and slid it across the table.
I stared at it and looked back at him.
“What’s this?”
“Whisky. Drink up.”
“No, thanks.” I pushed it away. “I’m not in the mood.”
“So you’re going to make me drink alone?”
“Nobody’s making you do a thing.”
He rubbed his face and pulled out the chair across from me. It groaned over the hard wood and creaked as he dropped his weight into it.
“I got a call from the boys earlier I thought you might be interested in.”
I sat up straighter. “The store?”
“Not ruined.”
I felt a strange flood of relief. “But there has to be damage.”
“There’s definitely damage. We need to do some serious work, and all your stock’s got to go. So you’d better start brainstorming some new ideas.”
I nodded slowly and tried to keep the anguish from my face. “What else?”
“It’s mostly smoke damage. Though the fire fucked up the floors, so they’ll have to come. They’re going to redo the whole front, put up new drywall, rip out anything remotely messed up. You can have as much say in that process as you want.”
“Seriously?”
“Seriously. Make it as nice as you want. Don’t worry about the cost.”
I gave him a look. “That seems a little much.”
“I feel bad you almost got killed on your first fucking day, so I thought I’d try and make up for it.”
