by TJ Hamilton
Go fuck yourself, Chelsea Tanner!
She doesn’t know everything. It’s people like the Tanner family who think they’re above reality—above making bad decisions and living with the consequences for the rest of their life. Her father gets to lie in a nice comfortable bed and go to sleep every night, regardless of how many lives he’s snuffed out.
Watching the closed bathroom door, I scull the rest of my champagne.
For someone who’s meant to see both sides of the coin, Chelsea looks through muddy water sometimes. I know I shouldn’t have mentioned her Dad like that, but there are so many more layers to this city that people like the Tanners have no idea about. Her father can judge and her mother can spin all the stories she thinks will sell a magazine, but at the end of the day, they are just playing with people’s lives. I just thought Chelsea was different; I thought I could show her another side to life. But the fact is, we are and will always be two very different people from opposite sides of the street.
I get out of the bath and pull the plug to drain the water. Wrapping a towel around myself, I have to see if Chelsea’s all right. The last thing I wanted was to upset her like this.
Knocking on the door, I speak. “Chelsea. Can I come in?”
She doesn’t answer so I open the door anyway. I find her leaning against the basin, tears filling her eyes.
I rush to take her in my arms and look deep into her gaze. “Hey. I know it’s a lot for you to take in today. We’ll talk about this tomorrow.”
She looks up at me and a tear slides down her cheek. It breaks my heart to see her upset. I can be such an asshole sometimes.
Shaking her head, she answers. “It’s not that. You’re right. Everything I’ve ever thought to be right in my life has been turned upside-down since I met you. I question everything I’ve ever believed in. My family aren’t any better than yours. I saw that today. At least your family doesn’t hide behind some false idea about what they do.”
I catch the tears that stream down her cheeks with the back of my finger and just hold her. I want to take all her sadness away.
“We can set this all straight again. I can fix this and show the city about what’s been happening, right under its nose.” She pulls out of my arms and stares into my eyes as she speaks.
What is she talking about? Does she want me to go to prison?
“And how are you going to do that without putting me in the picture?” I don’t know where she’s going with this, and I don’t like it already.
“We can put you in it, but I know a way to do it so that it looks like you have been set-up. Which you have, so it’s not going to be difficult to expose Jackson.”
“Then what? Another Jackson Reed will be waiting to corrupt the system again. You can’t save everyone, Chelsea. This is just how it is. There’s always a war to fight, and always a war to fight for.”
I see a glimmer of a smile on her face again and her eyes light up. “Well, I can save you.”
She wants to save me? I don’t know how I feel about this. I’m one of the city’s most notorious gang members and she wants to save me? And after everything, she still wants to be in my life?
“So how do you suppose we do this then?”
“We need to get Jackson to confess.” Her eyes are full of hope as she talks.
I can’t help but laugh at her confidence. “Yeah sure, detective. I’ll just see if he’s up for that.”
“There’s a case I have. It’s due for trial in a month. Have your heard of Robert Simmons?” She pulls back. Walking to her bag, she grabs out her iPhone and scrolls through it.
“Yeah isn’t he the creep that attempted to kidnap that girl?”
She nods. “Well he has a long history of being picked up in areas where there are kids. I know he’s bad, but he’s got money so he’s got me representing him.”
“This is what I mean. The system is fucked.” I scratch my head, wondering how someone like Chelsea can even defend these fuckers.
“So why don’t you set up a meeting with Jackson, and mention this Robert Simmons. Jackson’s the leading prosecutor on the case.”
She is a clever little vixen. Her attitude about this is surprising. Does she love me enough to willingly risk everything to defend me?
There’s just a key piece of this set-up that she’s overlooked. “But what about the fact that Jackson still has the documents that will put me behind bars for good? He’s threatened that he has people waiting to release the documents as soon as I do anything.”
Her mouth moves as she considers the spanner that I’ve just thrown into the works.
“Then Jackson Reed will just have to go missing.”
I don’t know if I’m excited or worried about what she just said. I’m definitely speechless. Words gone. Mind gone.
***
Bacon and eggs—a food I have never considered to be sexy. But standing over Chelsea to drizzle maple syrup on her body, I look at the few strips of bacon left that cover her perfect pussy, and I have to say this is the sexiest-tasting bacon that I’ve ever had.
She giggles and squirms as I take my time to dribble the syrup over the curves of her body. I watch it run into her little slit, and lean down to lick it because it looks too good, and I can’t help myself.
I love that this was all her idea. I was just minding my own business and cooking her breakfast when I turned around to find her lying in the centre of the kitchen bench, naked, with the two eggs I’d just cooked over each breast. She is always turning it up a notch.
The eggs are gone, and I want to eat the remainder of the bacon so that I can just devour her sweet little pussy. She squirms again as the syrup slides down the parts of her body that tickle. I take a piece of bacon and run it up her pussy before putting it in my mouth and sucking her flavour off of it. I chew on a piece of it and head back down for more of her pussy.
She giggles. “Vagina bacon.”
“The best kind. Seriously, you taste so sweet I could wipe your pussy on toast every morning and eat it for breakfast.”
She bursts out in laughter. Her laugh is exactly what I needed on a morning like today. I wipe the thoughts of what kind of fucked up day I’m going to have, and continuing licking every inch of this delicious creature on my kitchen bench.
***
“He hasn’t been seen for a couple of days,” Franco replies.
Where could the fucker be?
“Big Jim heard the boys from Parramatta were after him too.”
Franco holds the door of Zio’s restaurant as I walk through. It wouldn’t surprise me if there were other deals that Reed had going on. I’ve had every connection on my payroll looking for the asshole, but he has just disappeared from the city. I look down at my ringing phone and know its Scott.
“What have you got?” I say into the phone.
“Nothing. He hasn’t travelled anywhere via an airport and his bank account hasn’t been used since Monday. The last movement I could track of his was going through a toll in his car on the Harbour Bridge, also on Monday.” The digitalised voice of Scott sounds through the phone.
I think back to when I saw Reed last. I think I saw him Monday too. Great! This is all I need right now. Just when Chelsea has a plan—and a fucking good plan—Jackson Reed has fallen off the face of the earth. In my game, this is never a good thing. Don’t tell me the slimy fucker upheld his end of the deal for once, and left town like I told him to?
“Thanks,” I finally reply to Scott and the line goes dead. “Franco,” I call out after him, “get Big Jim down here. I want to hear what he knows about the Parramatta boys’ dealings with Reed.”
“Is that you, Pacer?” Uncle Carlo calls out in Italian.
“Yeah.”
“You had better come look at the TV; your girlfriend’s about to hold a press conference,” he says in Italian.
She’s what? What the hell? She said she was going into the city to see someone, but I had no idea what she was doing.
; Racing down to the kitchen, I see her on the screen, being a hard bitch in front of the cameras. I can tell she’s a little bit nervous. I’ve watched her enough to know how she reacts to things, and right now I know she would be. I can’t stop myself from grinning. What are you up to, honeybee?
“Ready?” She glances off-camera. “Today at eleven-forty-five this morning, the Nolan Royal Commission into corruption commenced. Police carried out the first arrest as part of the inquiry. This arrest has been a shock for all of my esteemed colleagues within the justice system. Jackson Reed, a promising QC, was taken into police custody following evidence that was delivered to police as part of the inquiry. My client, Paciano Fratelli, has been exonerated of all charges that were laid against him following the murder of Sean Collins. On what can only be described as a dark day for the city’s legal process, we can rest assured knowing we will put an end to what has become the rotting core of our city. Thank you, no questions.”
I watch her walk off-camera, but have no idea what to do or say. There is a faint sound of cheering around me.
Still nothing.
What did I just hear? How the fuck did she pull this off?
My Uncle slaps me on the cheeks and I’m finally woken from my daze.
“Your girl! She is an angel that’s been delivered to us.” Uncle Carlo keeps raising his hands above his head, as if to thank the heavens.
I smile—no, I grin. Wide. Like an idiot. Looking down at the phone in my hands, I write Chelsea a message.
PACER: Bravo! I’m at Zio’s. Do you need someone to get you?
No answer.
She’d be busy right now … calm down!
CHELSEA: My cousin will be bringing me over. You will like her. She has balls.
I grin at the phone. I’m not surprised by anything Chelsea tells me anymore. If she says her cousin has balls, I’m sure she means it.
My phone rings with Ma’s number. Answering, all I hear is crying.
“Ma. What’s the matter? Is everything alright?”
“I’m just so happy Paciano! We have been blessed,” she cries in Italian.
“Not you too,” I say as I watch Zio pour a glass of vino, motioning the cross every few minutes.
“You had better be good to her, Pacer. Marry her before she runs.” I haven’t heard Mum this happy in a long time. She has had such a rough life. If it’s not a family member murdered, it’s one being put behind bars. This must bee something good to see on the news, for once.
“I’ve gotta go, Ma. I’ll call you later,” I reply in Italian.
I send one more message to Chelsea.
PACER: Bowie would say something about falling into arms and trembling like flowers right about now.
Send.
I impress myself sometimes. I hadn’t taken any notice of music by David Bowie before meeting Chelsea. I told my sister that Chelsea loves Bowie, and Lucia told me I had to understand his music if I wanted to impress her. So I happily pissed off everyone around me by listening to David Bowie. The best part is I actually like his strange songs. Plus she gave me extra head the day I sent her Bowie messages. I’ll learn every little thing there is to know about Bowie if I get more head.
CHELSEA: I don’t know where I’m going from here, but I promise it won’t be boring.
I smile at the quote. I have no idea whether that is a Bowie quote or not though. I still have a lot to learn about Bowie. Do I risk asking her?
PACER: Bowie?
CHELSEA: Yes. But not a song. Classic Bowie quote.
Thank fuck I don’t look totally stupid. Without even meaning to, I really want to impress her. She just does that to me. She has done from the moment I met her. I still don’t get this Bowie thing, though. I probably never will either. That’s the beauty of falling in love with someone.
Franco shoves a glass of what I can only imagine to be my Uncle’s top scotch into my hands and raises his hand into the air. “Saluti!”
I raise my glass and celebrate my freedom, Chelsea’s success and her ability to always blindside me.
“Saluti!”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
She walks through the front door with the sound of snapping cameras behind her.
“Fuck me, they followed us all this way!” She sounds pissed, and rightly so.
Franco and Zio pull the shutters down on the windows. Zio locks it just as someone tries to open the door.
“Fucking vultures,” Zio spits out in disgust. “Now. Let’s celebrate!”
I grab Chelsea with one arm and pull her into me. Kissing her hard, I know that I can’t let her go. No matter how much I’ve tried to avoid feelings for women, she has every little piece of me in her beautiful hands. Glancing behind her, I see her cousin. She wasn’t lying when she said she has balls. I seriously think she might have a decent set in her pants. Is she even a chick?
“Pacer, I want you to meet my cousin, Logan. Logan, Pacer,” she says with a proud smile.
I hold my hand out to shake Logan’s hand. The name doesn’t give anything away. She could be a boy or a girl.
She grips my hand tight as she talks. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”
It’s a firm handshake, but still feminine. I’m fucking confused. Stop staring at her, him, it.
“It’s nice to finally meet Chelsea’s family.” I pull out my best smile.
Who gives a fuck what she is? She’s Chelsea’s cousin and they seem really close—more like sisters.
“Right, let’s go through and have a drink while we wait for the shit storm to settle out there.” I wave them through to the restaurant.
Chelsea shakes her head. “No. I don’t think they’re going to give up tonight. The story is still breaking, so they will want details until it’s no longer the news of the moment.”
Spoken like a true professional.
“So what do you suppose we do?” I’m intrigued to hear her idea, since she is so full of them today.
“Call up all the big guys you have, and they can act as a barricade when we leave. Haven’t you watched the Kardashians?” Her giggle at the end of the sentence makes me smile. I want to wipe the table next to us clear and spread her body across it. I don’t care who’s watching either.
***
Three hours after I made the first phone call to get some guys down here, the word had spread within the family that we were having an impromptu party at Zio’s restaurant to celebrate the good fortune of our family. Every person who has ever associated with the Legano family is here drinking and dancing, my ma and Lucia included. And why not celebrate? This is a new chapter for us now that Reed is behind bars, and I’m free of all charges. Only someone like Chelsea would be able to convince the city that I was innocent and Reed was the real crook … and have the law do all the dirty work for once.
I hate to think what’s waiting for us out side when we leave. There will be every journalist in the city waiting to get a sound grab or photo opportunity to write about. But right now, I don’t give a fuck about anything other than my family. We are here to celebrate, and celebrate we are. This is really Chelsea’s night. Everyone in the family has the same sentiment and all shower her with praise and alcohol. Chelsea and even Logan fit in so well with the family. I wonder what Chelsea’s old man is thinking about her efforts today? There are so many unanswered questions that Chelsea still needs to answer. How did she manage this?
Just as I get close to her, I manage to give her a kiss before a Bowie song starts off with a heavy guitar riff. I laugh when I realise the family must have my playlist on. There’s going to be an hour of Bowie coming up. Fuck it! Chelsea and Logan squeal like a couple of girls and Lucia jumps out of her seat too. The three of them jump around singing the words to the song as loudly as possible. They sing about not knowing if they’re a boy or a girl because they’re a rebel, rebel.
Nodding and smiling, I get the connection. Looking at her cousin, I see a Bowie similarity. From what I’ve learnt about Bowie so far, it seems he wa
s a pretty androgynous character in his day. Chelsea’s cousin doesn’t look as if she fits into one gender or the other. Which is actually kind of hot, in a weird way. I have respect for her being whoever she wants to be.
Taking control of the music before I kill the night with Bowie, I scroll through the iPod to search for good old Italian mood-killing song—the type all the oldies listen to.
When the song finally finishes and I play the Italian shit, I look up and catch Chelsea. Her smile is blazing across her face. She looks so impressed that Bowie came on. Little does she know that I didn’t mean for it to come on, and I sure as shit don’t want to hear any more of it tonight. I need Chelsea, and I need some answers.
I slide my hands around her waist and pull her to me. “I really want to get you home,” I whisper in her ear.
“I thought you’d never ask.” Her eyes twinkle as she speaks.
Standing up on a chair, I clap my hands to get the attention of the thirty-odd people inside the restaurant. “Listen up …”
“Discorso!” Franco yells out.
“Speech!” someone else yells out from the back.
“Shut the fuck up, you drunken fools!” I snap back. “Listen. I want to thank everyone for coming here to celebrate with us. The Legano family is stronger than ever, and there is one person to thank for that.” I look down at Chelsea, standing beside me. She takes hold of my hand. “Everyone keeps telling me that this beautiful girl has been sent to me, and I’m beginning to believe that is so. I know my papa has sent you to me—he would have absolutely adored you, honeybee.” I see Ma from the corner of my eye, wiping her tears. I stop myself from getting choked up. “Chelsea, I don’t know how you’ve managed it, but you have pulled some kind of magic today, and I am now a free man. But there is a part of me that isn’t free; it’s well and truly a prisoner.” She frowns at my words. “My heart has been held captive by you since the day we met. I love you Chelsea Tanner. You have my heart for as long as I breathe.” I look around at the crowd, hanging on my every word. “Given the crazy media circus that is going to take over our lives now, I’ve decided that Chelsea and I are going to take Papa’s boat out for a while. I want us to see the world.” She’s frowning again. “We need some time away together, and there is no escaping this city. So Franco, you will be managing everything while we’re away … Now, I need to take my girl home to show her just how much I love her.” I give her a quick wink and she giggles. “Everyone head out to form a passageway for us to get to the car without the vultures getting too close. I don’t want any of you saying a word to them out there. Make no reaction and don’t let them get to you. Ma, Lucia and Logan, you stay here.”
