He gives me a strange look, narrowing his eyes as if he’s seeing me in a new light for the first time. “Fine,” he says, leaning back and setting his napkin down on the table. “I hurt people.”
It feels like the room grows a little darker, as if the candle flickers in the face of his darkness. “Have you...killed?”
“Do you really think I’m going to answer that?”
Yes, he has. Jesus Christ, Julia, what are you doing with this man? “Do you have kids?”
He laughs. “No. Hell no.”
“Family?” I know from talking to Callie that he’s related to Damian and Vince, but I want to see how much he’s willing to tell me.
“Sure. Parents are gone, but I have a little brother and cousins up in New York.”
“Does your family hurt people, too? For a living, I mean?”
Our waiter sets down a mound of some sort of chocolate cake. He uses a small cup to pour steaming chocolate over the top, and the cake splits open, revealing a thicker chocolate filling inside. Then he drops two scoops of ice cream beside it. I’m mildly annoyed that he interrupted my interrogation of Leo, but I can’t quite make myself be too mad when I dig my spoon in and taste the chocolate bliss.
“My family’s business is their own. I don’t get involved.”
I drop the topic, feeling like I’m tiptoeing around his shut-off point. I take a bite of the chocolate cake. “Wow,” I say.
He smirks up at me, looking irresistibly handsome in the candlelight. “I used to come here with my parents when I was a kid. My brother and I would always beg them to let us get this desert.”
I’m surprised to hear him opening up without me prodding. My training tells me the best way to get him to keep talking is to say nothing, so I just watch him, listening intently, waiting through the silences.
“Coming here always makes me think of them,” he says. His eyes find the candle and stay there, as if he’s transfixed, mind traveling to another place.” A clattering plate a few tables over seems to snap him out of the spell, and I can practically see him closing up. “But that’s the past.”
I could ask him more, but I sense that he’ll shut me out if I do, so I try something else. “My parents could never afford a place like this, but I used to love it when my mom would take me to this little run-down ice cream place near my dad’s office. It was her way of rewarding me for putting up with the long drive to drop him off at work, I guess, but I have so many memories sitting outside on the splintery wooden bench, eating ice cream with her and laughing over the dumbest things.” A tear rolls down my cheek and I wipe it away, looking at it in surprise. “Sorry, I don’t know what—”
“She’s sick now, isn’t she?” he asks.
The question would normally irk me or offend me, but something in his tone softens the blow, making it intimate, almost as if he has been in the same place.
“Yes,” I say.
He nods, not asking for more details or asking what’s wrong with her, and I find myself relieved when he doesn’t. “I lost both my parents, one to violence and one to illness.” He laughs humorlessly, looking down briefly before meeting my eye again. “I wouldn’t recommend either, but having my dad there one day and then being gone the next was actually easier. Watching my mom…” He thinks and then seems to fail to find the words. “It’s not easy.”
A silence hangs between us, and though I can’t quite put my finger on how, I can’t make myself see him the same way anymore. He’s not just a dangerous, sex-crazed Adonis. He’s a person, too. A damaged person, broken, probably even more broken than I am.
He raises his eyebrows and sighs. “Anything else you want to know?”
I’m still dealing with the little he has told me and don’t know that I can handle much more for the moment. “How about another date? and we’ll go from there.”
“I thought this wasn’t a date?” He asks, laughter sparkling in his eyes.
“Fine. How about we go on a date. I pick the place this time.”
10
Leo
“I’ve never seen you like this over a girl, bro,” says Angelo. He sits in the passenger seat of my car. Carlito and Luca Bianchi are in the backseat. Luca is like a parasite, forced on us by the bosses because they want someone they trust keeping an eye on us. If only they knew how spineless Luca was, they probably wouldn’t bother.
We’re parked outside an Italian restaurant downtown. The owner owes the bosses protection money, and they want me to put the squeeze on him.
“Like this? What the fuck am I like?” I ask Angelo.
He grins. “Shit man, you turned down that perfect pair of tits that tried to get with you at Benito’s earlier, for one.”
I wave him off. “She looked like a bitch.”
“That’s never stopped you before.”
“If you’re done with the girl talk, I have to go in there and scare the shit out of this deadbeat.”
Angelo punches me on the shoulder. “It’s a good look on you is all I’m saying. I like seeing you happy for once.”
“Yeah, yeah,” I say, getting out of the car and patting my side, feeling the reassuring weight of my piece strapped beneath my arm, inside my suit jacket.
“Hey, Leo,” says Luca. “The bosses wanted me to remind you to get the interest he owes, too.”
I ignore Luca, slamming my door and heading toward the restaurant’s front door. Get the interest? Does he really think I need to be reminded?
The restaurant is pretty deserted, but a guy in a dress shirt undone enough to show his flabby, hairy chest comes out to greet me. I can tell by the way his eyes dart around the room that he knows exactly why I’m here.
“Good afternoon, sir. What can I do for you?”
“Let’s talk somewhere private,” I say.
He smiles shakily. “We can sit at the bar.”
“More private,” I say.
He swallows. “Yeah. Okay, we could talk in the back.”
He leads me past concerned looking servers to the back of the restaurant and gestures at the ground in front of the dishwasher. I motion for him to follow me into the walk-in freezer. He follows me hesitantly. Once we’re inside, I hit the lock on the inside of the fridge. I learned a long time ago that intimidation is a lot like sex. It’s more about the foreplay than the actual act. People are most likely to talk before I’ve ever touched them, and it’s a hell of a lot less messy that way.
I cross my arms, locking my eyes on him.
He licks his lips. “I’ll get Marco his money. I just need a few days.”
I hook my thumb in my jacket and pull it back so he can see the pistol holstered on my side.
He looks at the pistol, eyes widening. “I can have it tomorrow.”
“With interest,” I say.
“Interest? I’m already—”
I silence him by taking a single step forward.
“How much interest?” he asks.
“Why don’t you tell me how much interest you think you should pay for being late?”
He smiles nervously. “Five percent?”
I say nothing, staring down at him.
“Seven percent?”
“These are pretty thick walls in here,” I say. “Does much sound get through?”
“Thirty percent,” he says quickly.
I smile, clapping him on the shoulder. “Glad we could come to an agreement.” I leave him slumped in the walk-in, probably counting his blessings. I don’t enjoy scaring the shit out of people, especially when the “protection” they are paying for is a total scam. It’s the same assholes collecting money from them who will be coming by to break their legs if they don’t pay. Just like the only bully on the playground charging a kid three bucks a day to make sure no one takes his lunch money. But hey, the weak get fed on by the strong. If they don’t like it, they can get the fuck out of town for all I care.
When I get back in the restaurant lobby, I see the few people in the restaurant crowded around the
windows. Shouting from outside draws my eye. All the doors to my car are open. Angelo and Carlito are sprinting past the restaurant toward a guy in a tracksuit who is running for his life.
Shit.
I shove past a guy, making him drop his beer glass. I’m out the door and turning the corner before I even hear it hit the ground and shatter. They are running as fast as they can down the sidewalk, pushing past people who get in their way, but I’m gaining on them. Angelo catches the guy in the track suit and horse-collars him, whipping him backwards so he slams on the pavement. Carlito rushes in, kicking the guy hard in the ribs. The smart onlookers are running and the stupid ones are staring, getting their phones out.
I take a look at the guy on the ground and realize it’s Nico Moretti. Shit. Angelo is going to start a fucking war with that temper of his, and I’m going to get tossed in the middle of it. I move from bystander to bystander, snatching their phones and slamming them into the ground where they shatter. It only takes three or four people before the rest of the onlookers start to back away and hide their phones.
Maybe it’s the tattoos, something in my eye, or maybe it’s just the gun I’m making sure everybody sees, but no one questions me. I still hear the meaty thuds of Angelo and Carlito going to town on this guy as I clear the last of the crowd.
“Hey you dumb shits, drag him in here if you’re going to rough him up. Jesus Christ.”
Angelo looks up at me, sweeping a lock of hair from his sweating forehead. “You want in on this?”
Carlito pauses, too, chest heaving with exhaustion. “It’s because of these fuckers you got thrown in the can. Give it to him, Leo.”
I ignore them, reaching down to grab the gasping and bleeding Moretti on the ground and drag him by the jacket into the nearby alley. I don’t stop until we’re mostly out of sight and behind a dumpster.
“Technically, it was your hot fucking temper that got me thrown in jail, Angelo. The Morettis didn’t really do shit to me.”
Angelo glares at me. He steps toward me, still breathless from beating up Nico. He’s at least half a foot shorter than me, and not nearly as wide in the shoulders. I step closer until my chest presses against his.
“You want to step to me?” I say. My voice is low and sharp as a knife. “I’d kill for you, but if you want to get tough with me, I’ll set you straight real fucking fast.”
Angelo’s eyes burn with anger, but he wipes his nose with his knuckles and turns to Nico, who is laughing through his bloody mouth.
“Sounds like I just got my ass kicked by the bitch of the family,” says Nico.
I nearly groan. Nico doesn’t realize how hot-tempered Angelo is, but I see it coming before it even happens. Nico walks toward him with a deadly purpose. He lifts his knee above the waist and stomps on Nico’s head as hard as he can. I close my eyes and sigh when I hear the sound. I don’t even need to look to know that Angelo just killed Nico. He killed a made guy in one of the biggest crime families in the city, and he just put blood-red targets on all of our backs.
I hang up the phone, seething. The Bianchis are already catching heat from the Morettis about Nico’s murder, and the murder coming so soon after I got out of prison has everyone pointing fingers at me. I’d never let anything happen to my little brother, but I sure as hell am tired of cleaning up after him. He had to go dragging me back into his shitstorm when I haven’t even been out of prison a month?
I slam my hand against the dashboard. I was considering trying to find a way to go clean once I got out, maybe get out of this whole lifestyle and find something legit. I’m not sure what I’d do, maybe start my own business. I used to love flying remote controlled airplanes when I was a kid and I’d dream about flying the real thing. Maybe I could find some kinda work that would let me do that. Either way, none of that matters now. I’m going to have a metric ton of heat on my ass for the foreseeable future, and the only way I can keep my brother safe and keep my ass out of jail and out of the ground is by keeping my ear to the crime world. Getting out now would be a death sentence.
I’m parked outside the place Julia wanted to meet for our “first” date. I just took her to dinner two days ago, but it feels like it’s been ages. I see her waiting outside the restaurant already. She’s wearing a blue dress that hugs every curve of her body. Her black hair is pulled back in a bun. I smirk a little when I think how perfect a handhold it would make while she sucked my cock.
She glances at her phone and then looks around the parking lot hopefully. I’d be doing her a favor if I left. I’m no good for her. Now with all this Moretti shit, I don’t even know if it’s safe for her to be around me. What if they come after me while I’m spending time with her? Shit. I could live with the risk if it was anyone else, but the thought of her getting hurt makes me sick. The worst part is I know I’m going to go to her anyway. I want her too much to do what’s right. I’m going to go to her, eat dinner with her, and then I’m going to eat her out until she begs for my cock.
I’m about to get out of the car when I notice a white Cadillac cruising slowly through the parking lot. The guy driving is wearing shades and a suit. The guy in the passenger seat has hard eyes. The eyes of a killer.
Fuck.
Reality washes over me like a cold bucket of water. It’s over. I meet a woman like no one I’ve ever been with—smart, sexy as hell, and not afraid to test me—and now I have to decide between being with her and keeping her safe.
I take one more look at Julia, waiting for me outside the restaurant. Maybe my last look. Those guys in the car have to be Morettis. They are looking for me, and they found out where I was going without me knowing. The only way I can keep Julia safe now is to leave. I’m going to have to wipe every trace of myself from her life, every last piece. I’ll change my number, move out of the city, and do whatever it takes to get this shit settled. When I’ve done that, maybe then I can come looking for her.
If she still wants to be found.
11
Julia
How do you tell a guy you just met a week ago that you might be pregnant? Better yet, how do you explain that you forgot to get the morning after pill after having unprotected sex just because your mom had a fever and needed to be driven to the hospital? I just want to cradle my head in my hands and cry, but the full reality still hasn’t set in, so I’m holding onto my sanity. For now.
I stand outside the restaurant, checking my phone and looking around the parking lot again for his car. Stop freaking out. You probably just fucked up your period because you missed the pill a few times. I was actually due for my period two days after he slept with me—no, fucked me. I was able to push that to the back of my mind and believe it was stress or missing the pill for a while. Now? Now I’m not so sure. I should just get a pregnancy test and be sure one way or another, but I can’t bring myself to take that step. That will make it permanent, real. Right now it’s just a maybe, and nobody’s life was ever derailed by a maybe.
Then again, my life left the tracks a long time ago. I think back to the conversation I had with Mom yesterday. She sounded hopeful about the latest report from her doctor, but all he said was the tumor hadn’t grown since her last visit. It wasn’t shrinking, it just wasn’t getting any worse. I tried to sound excited for her, but I couldn’t help thinking about the inevitability and unfairness of it.
Where the hell is he? I move around the side of the restaurant, not sure what I’m expecting to see. It’s not like he’ll be wandering around trying to find the entrance and needing my help. All I see is a white Cadillac driving slowly around the parking lot looking for a space, but they keep passing perfectly good spots to park. Morons.
Thirty minutes later, I’ve taken off my heels and I’m sitting on the bench, feeling like the world’s biggest idiot. Of course he didn’t show up. Guys like him don’t jump through hoops for women. They stick around until they get tired of the sex and move on to something new and fresh. He probably realized I wasn’t giving it up easily enough and deci
ded not to waste his time. I don’t know if I can even blame him. I probably seem like a total mess. What kind of woman throws away so much for a few minutes of pleasure?
I rub a hand on my stomach and feel tears welling in my eyes.
The host steps outside the restaurant and gives me a worried look. “Ma’am? Are you okay?”
I sniff, wiping away tears and smearing my makeup. “No, these are tears of fucking happiness.”
He reels back, rushing inside like I just flashed fangs at him. I sigh, cradling my head in my hands and letting the tears flow freely. When did I become such an idiot?
Four Years Later
“Roman! Get your shoe out of your mouth!”
Roman gives me the cutest guilty smile imaginable and slowly lowers the shoe. “Sorry, Mommy.”
I sigh, kneeling down and hugging him tight. I still can’t believe how much I love him. He’s my little guy, and he’s the one thing in this world that keeps me sane. I can see so much of Leo in him. He has Leo’s long eyelashes, dark hair, and mouth, but he has my pert nose and green eyes.
“Can you maybe play with some of the toys I worked so hard to buy for you instead of eating your shoes?”
He giggles and runs off, yelling out something between a war cry and a scream. I smile as I watch him go. I really don’t know what I’d do without my little man. There has been so much pain and strife in my life, and it has all been packed into such a short span of time. I think it would break most people, but I’m still standing. For now, at least.
I look at the mail stacked on the kitchen table and mentally brace myself as I tear open the first letter. I know what it is going to be before I even open it. We just got the bad news that mom’s cancer came back last month. I haven’t had the heart to tell Roman yet, and I don’t know when or if I ever will. I don’t know what good it would do for him to know. I also haven’t figured out how I’m going to help her pay again. I’m still paying off loans I took to get her through her last treatments. She has her social security checks, but she can’t work anymore, and the bills are astronomical. There’s just no way for her to do it without my help, and I’m not going to watch my mom suffer idly.
Dark: A Bad Boy Secret Baby Romance (Citrione Crime Family) Page 4
