Maybe then we could be friends.
“Who is after Bianci anyway?” Bones asked, as he opened and closed the crate I just finished assembling, testing it to make sure it was in working condition. He stamped “Heavy Automotive Parts” on top of the crate and set it aside to dry.
“Technically, no one, but what do I know about that mob shit. Now that the fuck with the fur coat is running the show I think “Old Man Soprano” is worried that he will clip his son-in-law,” I surmised.
“Complicated shit,” Bones said.
“Them Italians love to complicate shit,” I added.
He smirked.
“What?” I pressed, placing the drill down and reaching into my pocket for my joint.
“I wonder how complicated things would get if Bianci knew you were banging his sister,” Bones mused, as he took the joint and lit it.
“Banged,” I corrected. “As in one time,” I added.
“You’re an asshole,” he claimed. “You should’ve kept that piece around, real pretty to look at and feisty enough to make things fun,” he added, thoughtfully.
“Don’t think about it,” I warned.
“Fair game, brother,” he reminded me.
“You want my leftovers?” I asked angrily.
He shrugged his shoulders.
“Never bothered you before,” he said nonchalantly, passing me the joint. “How was she anyway? She worth the ride?”
“Fuck off,” I ground out, taking the joint from him. “She’s off the table.”
He shook his head.
“Don’t work like that, Riggs, and you know it,” he stated, kicking off the wall he was leaning against. “She’s not your property, anyone can give her a go,” he added.
“She’s not club pussy,” I seethed.
“Pussy is pussy, and if you’re done tapping that, there are plenty of men lining up for it,” he sneered.
“What’re you doing?” I asked, narrowing my eyes at him. “You trying to fuck with me?”
“How many bitches have you fucked since your patch party?”
“You keeping tabs on my dick, Bones?”
“Just pointing out what you’re too stupid to see,” he countered. “If Lauren lived closer, you’d be all over that shit,” he suggested.
“No I wouldn’t,” I argued. “I got what I wanted from her.”
“Then you shouldn’t mind if someone else, namely me, takes what I want from her,” he continued.
I bit the inside of my cheek, my hands balling into fists at my side as I clenched my jaw.
“I don’t give a fuck,” I growled. “Are we going to talk about swapping pussy all day or are we going to get these fucking crates done?”
Lucky for me, Lauren lived two hours away. Two hours away from me and my dickhead brother who was itching for a taste of what was mine.
Mine?
Jesus.
After we were finished with the crates we rode back to the compound and met with Jack and Blackie. We were waiting on a call from Pops, to let us know when the guns would be ready to be packed up so we could make the delivery to the Red Dragons. There was tension between the president and vice-president and I surmised it was the stress of the deal—there was a lot riding on this. Wu was paying the Knights seven hundred thousand for this shipment and forking over another two for the next one. However, if any of us were caught by the cops with these weapons we were looking at life in prison.
Life.
That was no fucking joke.
The following day, Jack ordered me to resume my babysitting gig until the call came through from Pops, then all hands were on deck and the Knights had to roll. But for now, I’d watch Anthony teach a bunch of kids how to throw a punch.
I couldn’t figure this guy out. The tri-state area feared this bastard for his reputation as Victor’s enforcer, yet parents willingly signed their children up to learn from him. Who would’ve thought an ex-gangbanger would open up his own version of The Boys & Girls Club of America. The world was fucked—in a good way. It was pretty awesome of him to turn his life around and take the initiative to get neighborhood kids off the streets. And it was even more awesome that the people who once feared him, gave “Michael Corleone” a chance to do the right thing.
Only in New York.
Bianci was going off on the bag, doing what he did best, showing these kids there was an alternative to their anger and aggression. Watching him hit the heavy bag put me in a trance, like it did every time, and I didn’t hear the bell sound as the door opened.
I felt a hand on my shoulder and I turned to meet Anthony’s wife’s smiling face. On top of being the neighborhood hero, Bianci scored the hottest wife this side of the Hudson. Adrianna winked at me before turning her attention toward her husband.
“How long has been at it?” She asked, as her smile widened, watching as Anthony held the chains of the leather bag and counted the jabs the little five year old was taking.
“About an hour,” I replied, turning toward her. “He should be wrapping up any minute,” I added, but I wasn’t even sure she heard me. She blew Bianci a kiss, and that was my fucking cue to take a breather before I lost my lunch. These two could have you tossing your cookies with all their love bullshit.
I stepped outside the gym, lighting up a cigarette as I rounded the corner. Taking that first drag, I looked up and noticed some teenagers circling my bike.
Fucking, hell no.
“Get away from the bike,” a voice shouted from the car parked on the corner.
I knew that car, towed that piece of crap upstate.
Shit.
“Make me,” one of the little punks shouted.
The car door opened and my mouth dropped, the cigarette fell, nearly burning my lip off. Lauren stepped out of the car, calmly walking around to the trunk and popping it open. She slammed the trunk down and that’s when I saw the baseball bat in her hand.
“I said…get the fuck away from the bike,” she hissed, practicing her swing.
“Whoa, damn, girl…” another punk said, his eyes wide as saucers.
Me and my dick agreed with the punk.
Damn girl.
“You heard her,” I yelled, walking up behind the kid, my eyes on Lauren as she held the bat over her head and stared at me.
“Sorry! We don’t want any trouble,” punk number one cried.
“Then I suggest you run because she looks pissed,” I growled.
“Yeah, but she’s not looking at us anymore, she’s looking at you,” punk number two pointed out.
Kid had a point, those blue eyes were glaring at me.
“Get out of here,” she said, turning her eyes back to the two teens, rearing the bat back to take a swing.
They scampered away from my bike like a bunch of cockroaches, leaving me to deal with a very pissed off Kitten.
She watched as they ran down the block and brought the bat down to her side as she walked back toward the trunk of the car. I thought she’d turn my way that she’d say something but all she did was ignore me.
I pulled my hat from my head and ran my fingers through my hair, deciding on whether I should walk away.
I did it before and it wasn’t that hard.
“Thanks for looking out for my bike, Kitten,” I blurted.
Decision made.
I walked toward her car, watched as she popped her trunk and dropped the baseball bat inside, before slamming it shut again and snarling at me.
Whoa.
Pissed off Kitten was sexy.
“Don’t call me that,” she hissed, walking toward the driver’s door.
“Don’t do that,” I objected, sighing as I walked around the front of her car. She pulled open her door and fixed me with a look.
“Get away from me Riggs before I grab the bat again,” she warned.
“Kitten,” I pleaded.
“I said don’t call me that,” she shouted, slamming
the door closed before turning and closing the distance between us. She pressed her palms flat against my chest and shoved me backward.
“I’m not your fucking Kitten,” she hollered. “And you most certainly are no Tiger,” she added.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked, narrowing my eyes.
“You’re a pussy, Riggs,” she answered, dropping her hands from my chest. “Tell me something? Do you do that with all the girls you pretend to give a shit about? Fuck them and ignore them?” She shook her head, about to turn around but stopped, glancing over her shoulder at me. “Just tell me one thing…should I be worried?”
“Worried?”
She rolled her eyes.
“I don’t go having unprotected sex all that often. Actually, ever. I never do that stuff. I know it’s probably an everyday occurrence for you, so what I’m asking you is; are you clean?”
How fucked up was I that I didn’t even remember not wearing a rubber? It happened so quick I wasn’t thinking of covering myself up, I was just driven by the need to make her mine that night.
Then another thought crossed my mind. While I was off ignoring her, afraid she’d be a clinger, she was worrying I had given her an STD.
I owned the title of scumbag. Look it up in the dictionary, I bet Merriam-Webster had my picture next to the word.
“I’m clean, Lauren. I always wear a rubber,” I said, as I stared at her, fighting the urge to touch her. “Always,” I emphasized.
“Um, am I interrupting?” Adrianna asked, raising an eyebrow as she stood next to the passenger door of Lauren’s car.
Great.
“No, we’re done,” Lauren declared, turning around and climbing inside the car, slamming the door closed.
I turned around and saw Adrianna still standing next to the car, her hand poised on the handle as she stared at me.
“What?”
“If I find out you hurt Lauren, so help me God I’ll make my mother-in-law look like June Cleaver,” she threatened, pulling open the door.
“I’m sure you will,” I mumbled, stepping onto the sidewalk because I wouldn’t put it past Lauren not to run me over.
“There you are,” Anthony exclaimed, pointing his keyring toward his truck parked across the street and unlocking it.
Fuck my life.
“Come on, we’re taking a ride,” he declared.
Double fuck my life. Did he know? I watched Lauren’s car peel away from the curb.
Fuck, he definitely knew.
“I’ll take my bike,” I said.
“Nah, leave it here,” he said, crossing his arms against his chest.
“Some punk ass kids were just fucking around by my bike. I’m not leaving it here. Where are we going anyway?”
Please don’t say the beach. I don’t want to sleep with the fucking fishes.
“The Dog Pound,” he said, narrowing his eyes. “You’re sweating,” he pointed out.
I reached up and swiped my hand across my brow.
Fuck, I was sweating.
At least he wasn’t going to whack me.
Not yet anyway.
Chapter Thirteen
I fucked up.
No surprise there.
The only difference this time, was that I felt bad about it. I’ve walked away from a lot of people in my life and never once looked back. Hell, my own family might as well think I’m dead for all I know. Still, I don’t feel any kind of way about that; it doesn’t make me feel guilty, just indifferent. But the way Lauren looked at me that bothered me. It was one thing to be angry; I expected that much, but I didn’t expect to see the hurt in her eyes.
I didn’t want to hurt her. I should’ve realized she wouldn’t just be angry like every other girl I’ve discarded. She wasn’t like any other girl. She wasn’t the rule, she was the fucking exception, and I was the asshole who thought rules were meant to be broken—to hell with the consequences. I realized I didn’t just break a rule, I broke Lauren’s ego, something that was already hanging on by a thread.
“Give us a minute, Riggs,” Jack said, pulling me away from my thoughts. I forgot I was sitting around a table with Jack, Blackie and Bianci, waiting for Bianci to spill the reason we were there to begin with.
“Yeah?” I asked, looking confused.
“You okay kid?” he questioned.
Yeah, I’m fine, just grew a conscience.
“Kid’s probably got the shits,” Anthony surmised, suppressing a grin. “Just found out his favorite woman will be in town for a few weeks,” he said, reaching over and squeezing my shoulder.
Then there was that.
We were waiting on Jack when we got here, apparently our Prez has a piece of ass tucked away, thinks it’s okay to keep us all waiting on him while he gets his dick sucked. Anyway, I guess Bianci felt the need to pass time with me and told me that mommy dearest was moving back to Brooklyn. I was tempted to ask him if that meant Lauren would be too but he didn’t give me the chance, sharing with me he and Adrianna had two houseguests until Maria found another apartment.
So I had two crazy women with the last name Bianci who wanted me dead. Three if you add Adrianna.
“You got yourself a woman?” Blackie asked.
“Fuck no,” I protested, pointing my thumb toward Bianci. “This fucks’ crazy mother is coming home.”
Dread churned in my belly. I needed to get away from this psychotic family before they found out I fucked their princess and they tried to hang me by the balls.
“Think you can put someone else on babysitting duty? Me and “Carmela Soprano” don’t exactly see eye to eye.”
“The only eye she sees of yours is the black one she gave you,” Jack added, laughing as he spoke.
Go on and laugh. It’s fucking funny. I’m a clown here to amuse you. Oh, my God! I’m starting to sound like Joe Pesce. I needed out.
Stat.
“Don’t stress it too much, kid. She’ll be too preoccupied to pay much attention to you,” Anthony insisted, glancing down at the table, a small smile worked his mouth.
Yeah, right.
“Adrianna’s pregnant,” he said.
Of course she is. Christ, they’re expanding a family. More people with the last name Bianci. The matriarch was going to be a real basket case now.
“Mama “Leone” is going to be a grandma? Fuck, if I thought she was crazy before, she’s going to be all sorts of bonkers now,” I muttered, before shaking my head and glancing toward Anthony. “Congrats on the kid,” I mumbled, before heading toward the bar.
I was retiring from life.
At least for today.
Yep, that’s my plan. Get drunk and get stupid.
“So, are we going to talk about it?” Adrianna asked, as we pulled up to the supermarket. We had left Luca with my mother and taken a couple of hours to have pedicures as well as doing some food shopping on the way home. Apparently, when you’re married those two things go hand in hand.
I guess you learn something new.
I would never get married anyway. I took a vow of celibacy and decided the new dream I would chase was restoring my hymen.
“No,” I said, grabbing the wagon because Anthony gave me strict orders she wasn’t allowed to push anything or hold anything that weighed more than a lemon. These two had a long nine months ahead of them.
Lucky for me, I got front row seats to the “she’s having my baby show,” since my mother and I were staying with them until we found an apartment, or I got my shit together, whichever came first.
I was right about my mother jumping at the chance to be around her grandchildren. After my brother shared his news with us, I told him and Adrianna I was a nursing school drop out with an eviction notice on my door. They insisted we stay with them until we found some place else, some place close to them.
Now, here we are, food shopping with wet toes and Adrianna trying to get the goods on me and Riggs.
“I heard him, you know,” she started.
“Forget what you heard,” I said, shrugging my shoulders. “I’ve forgotten,” I added.
Because what is one more lie on top of the thousands sitting on my shoulders already?
“I won’t tell your brother if that’s what you’re afraid of,” she coaxed.
I thought about her words for a minute. I wasn’t holding back the twisted tale of how Kitten and Tiger got it on one night in an alley like a bunch of…well, alley cats. See what I did there? Cute right?
Did I mention I hate my life?
Take the fucking detour, he said.
I did.
It was a dead end.
Focus, Lauren.
I wasn’t holding back the alley cat story because I was afraid of my brother finding out. He’d kill Riggs, and as fun as that might be to watch, the only one who would put that dope in the ground was me.
I was becoming very angry lately. Like, I might need help.
“I slept with him, okay?” I blurted.
Psychiatric help too.
She rolled her eyes as she picked out tomatoes.
“I know, I heard the whole “I wear a rubber thing,”” she exasperated.
“Yeah, he’s a real catch,” I said sarcastically.
Adrianna dropped the bag of tomatoes into the cart and lifted my chin with her finger.
“You fell for him, didn’t you?”
“What? No? I may be going through a quarter-life crisis but I’m not that stupid,” I said.
“You’re not twenty-five,” she pointed out.
“I always wanted to be older than I was,” I stated and sighed heavily. “Look, I liked him a lot, that’s it. I thought he liked me too, but I was wrong. All he wanted was to get laid. Which is fine, because hey, we all need to get laid every once in a while, right? I suppose I should thank him because I’m good now for like a year until the urge strikes again and I do something else incredibly stupid,” I said, ignoring the lady picking out a bunch of bananas, staring at me like I just confessed to murdering someone.
I turned my gaze to banana lady and hissed.
You know what she could do with those bananas?
“What are you looking at? I’m having a crisis,” I sneered.
Reckless Temptations (The Tempted Series Book 4) Page 12
