Son of a Mobster (Criminal Desires)

by Jennie Lyne Hiott

  “I’m going to eat. I just need to use the bathroom.” I headed toward the door only to find it locked. The audacity of the woman to deny her customer’s free use of the facilities completely baffled me.

  “Key?”

  “No, buy first!” She laid a hand on her hip. Jabbing half a pencil into the gray-streaked black bun on her head.

  “Lady, if you don’t hand over that key, I’m going to use that potted bush you have over in the corner.” A roguish smile, meant to charm the proprietor of the out of date restaurant, crossed my lips.

  “You, dirty, dirty man! You go home!”

  I walked behind the counter and took the bathroom key from the nail it hung on, in no mood to negotiate simple facility privileges.

  “You! No use bathroom! You buy first! I no scare of you.” The old woman followed behind, threatening to jab me with a straw broom. She hurried to block me from entering the restroom. “You buy now!”

  I chuckled, lifted the barely five-foot tall woman into the air and set her to the side.

  “No use!” She continued to yell and beat on the door while I relieved myself. With one hand placed firmly on the wall so I wouldn’t topple I let out a relieved moan. Damn, that felt so good. There was so much liquid inside me I didn’t think it would ever stop streaming.

  I felt like a blundering fool as I zipped my pants. Fumbling with the small metal clip and after finally succeeding, I attempted to wash my hands only to falter and fall against the door.

  “You break! You buy!” I heard the threats, revealing the little woman had heard my clumsiness.

  Cautiously, one foot in front of the other, I overcame my sudden inability to walk, ventured through the short hall and collapsed on the first stool in my line of vision.

  “Give me key.” Sliding a pair of thick rimmed glasses up the bridge of her nose, the proprietor slapped a menu in front of me on the counter. “Now, you buy.”

  “Just give me some eggs, sausage, bacon …” Her wrinkled eyes questioned my mid-afternoon meal choice. “Grits …”

  “It not breakfast time. You need watch. Turn menu over!”

  “Hamburger steak?” The special on the page appealed to me, but it was not what I craved. “Can I have fries?”

  She huffed and snatched away the plastic covered list.

  “Could I have a soda to drink?” She set a cup in front of me with a clink and filled it with dark liquid. “Um – I wanted a soda.”

  “You get coffee. So you see sign to leave.”

  Even though she was putting me down, I found her hilarious. She left me and spoke in a quiet tone to a similarly aged man at the grill. I was sure she was telling him more than my order while her eyes burned into me. Purposely, I avoided her gaze. I felt like an attraction behind a wall of glass, knowing I was as transparent. I ogled the room, instead. Each wall housed replicas of metal soda pop and burgers pictures, signs that advertised food for a price too cheap for modern times. Fake plants sat on top of the half wall that divided the room and the booths appeared to have been there almost as long as Jenithiyah had been settled.

  The old man cooked fast which pleased my roaring stomach and it smelled wonderful as the ornery waitress placed it under my nose. I nodded my appreciation and snatched a ketchup bottle from the rack in front of me and fumbled to open it. My large fingers became an obstacle and locked away the tomato flavored substance I wanted.

  My server shook her head and I was sure she could read about my sins in the dark circles beneath my eyes. I turned the bottle upside down and smacked it one good aggravated time. The condiment container flew through the air, hitting the floor with a clank and rolled away.

  I snickered, using my hand to cover my lips. I stared at the object, brightly colored compared to the stained and cracked tile of the diner.

  “I no maid. You pick up!”

  I nodded and flipped up my thumb, prompting her to narrow her slits even tighter. She turned to complain to the cook and pointed in my direction.

  He turned ghost white and whispered in her ear.

  She immediately came back to the counter. “Ah, you mob boss? How you run mob? You can’t walk through door?”

  “Um?” How could I answer that?

  “Pick up bottle,” she mouthed off again. “I run diner. Not you.”

  I twirled on the stool abruptly, immediately obeying. The speed caused my head to spin and my eyes to blur. The line of customers at the register had not been there before, had they? My legs did not cooperate, feeling boneless as I slipped from the stool and stumbled forward.

  “You’re getting fat, Sean.” A perfectly toned pair of legs drew my attention as they squatted beside me and a set of red talons plucked the ketchup from the floor. “I didn’t think you were desperate enough to beg.”

  “And the day just gets better … It’s been a long time, Marcy.” I returned to my seat and reached into my pocket for my sunglasses, hoping to conceal my bloodshot eyes from a woman who had no problem using weakness to her advantage. “Are you following me?”

  “That would be boring.” The redhead placed her hand flat on the counter and leaned. My eyes naturally gazed into the unbuttoned top of her blouse as she settled on the stool next to me. “Same old show, same old, drunk Sean.”

  “Are you wearing a wire, Marcy?” I slurred my words and ran a fingertip across the top of the lacy, green bra the agent exposed.

  “Why would I be wearing a wire?” With ease, she turned the top of the ketchup container and set it beside my plate.

  “I just figured you’d want to save our conversation for later. We always did have juicy little talks.”

  “This isn’t high school,” she reminded. “And I’m not the same girl.” The one night stand on graduation night she would never let me forget.

  “Oh, really?”

  “Coffee?” The waitress asked impatiently with the carafe in her hand.

  “Yes please.” Marcy crossed her legs and reached for a napkin. She gently wiped away the coffee that had missed my lips and seeped down my chin like I was a toddler.

  The waitress poured and mumbled. “You friend?”

  “Sort of.”

  “Good. He need help. He can’t use door.” The little woman cocked her head. “But he run mob?”

  I touched my hand to my forehead and shook it. I had never met someone like that waitress before.

  “You do need someone to take care of you, Sean.” Numerous years and a badge had not faded Marcy Preston’s desire to claim me. I closed my eyes, no longer finding humor in my present company.

  “Why are you doing this to yourself?” Marcy implored and I tried to enjoy the touch that trailed up and down my thigh, but this was the wicked witch of my west. “Are you really eating this crap?” Marcy curled her nose up at my lunch choice.

  “Not anymore. My stomach just turned.”

  “I doubt eating this is good for your high blood pressure.”

  “I don’t have high blood pressure,” I grunted.

  “Then it must be the alcohol giving you that handsome sunburned look,” Marcy continued in her soft, sultry tone, enticing me. I felt her hands on my shoulders then, rubbing and kneading the muscles intending to relax. Instead, they tensed. “Seems we beat you to that Ire moron.” She stood and whispered in my ear. I felt her press her body against mine.

  Marcy knew how to kill a buzz, bringing my troubled circumstances back to mind just as I had managed to forget. I closed my eyes, knowing I was caught, hoping she was lying as she caressed my back. The one witness that eluded me was going to send me to The Abyss. The man who’d come from an isolated part of Jenithiyah was smarter than I’d given him credit for.

  “I can’t stand watching you destroy yourself like this.”

  “You really want to help me, Marcy? Tell me, how do I get my hands on Stephen McClure?” Trying to remain in control, I lowered my voice and tried to coat my tone with the malice threat I was known for, but the redhead knew I was out of options and soon
I would be out of time.

  “I could do that … I really want to, Sean. I want to help in so many ways.” Her ruby lips caressed my cheek, followed by the slight touch of her tongue. “But, you know my price.” Slightly, she turned my head and my lips met hers, accepting her kiss.

  “I can get you a deal,” Marcy purred.

  Many times the Divani brothers asked why I never ordered them to take Marcy out. She had her value and in that, my weakest hour, I was ready to pay her fee.

  “Yeah, I bet. What is it? Five, ten years sorting garbage? That’s not good enough.” My head throbbed, the room filled with an aggravating and frenzied chatter. I couldn’t stand to think about my future or the way that woman sought to reclaim what had never been hers.

  “That’s better than nothing. You wouldn’t be thrown into The Abyss.”

  Somehow Marcy knew it was the only punishment I feared. The justice system had its way of thinning out undesirable citizens, only allowing a convict a decade in its prisons and not a day more. The Abyss was a hard trial to overcome and many died long before their release date. The lifers who ruled it had nothing to lose and killed for entertainment. It made ten years working in the dumps sound appealing.

  “Ten years, huh?” I felt myself give in, but I kept my eyes averted. I couldn’t stand to look at the woman who blackmailed me.

  My stares were drawn to an impatient man waiting at the front of the line as Marcy continued her inappropriate demonstration of friendliness. The cramped quarters of the establishment frustrated the patrons who piled in for short lunch hours. They were miserable and I wished I could be as lucky as them. I wished my frustration was as mundane as theirs. I wish I could be annoyed waiting on the young, ebony haired woman at the counter who poured cream and sugar into her coffee.

  That woman – I had seen her before, yet where and when escaped my clouded mind. I stared intently. She moved forward, but before she could fully step away, the customer shoved her to the side. As if in slow motion, I watched her lose her balance.

  “Holy crap, that’s hot!” I screeched and leapt off the stool, swatting away the searing liquid that had quickly soaked my pants, forcing Marcy to release her possessive grip.

  “Oh, I’m so sorry,” The woman’s mouth dropped open. She grabbed a handful of napkins and immediately began to dab them against my pants. “Are you okay?”

  I stared at her with a look of amazement and Marcy became a distant memory. I brushed my tongue slowly over my bottom lip and took a deep breath to chase away disrespectful thoughts. As if I had been set on fire, a wave of heat rose from my toes to my cheeks and I was sure my heart beat irregularly. Only seconds had elapsed since our collision, but it was more than enough to make me into an incoherent fool. Even sober, I would have been a mindless idiot as part of me awoke beneath the napkins she held.

  Slightly I bent, bringing my lips close to her ear, thinking about how long it had been since a woman’s touch had excited me. Ten years in fact, since my member had twitched for a woman’s touch. “If you keep that up, we are going to have to find a room.”

  She gasped, her cheeks turned three shades of crimson. The comprehension of her actions filled her eyes with embarrassment. “Oh my – oh I’m,” she stuttered.

  I chuckled knowing how humiliating the situation must have been for her. I gazed at my crotch, took a fresh napkin and blotted my pants a little more, sending an apologetic smile to the on-lookers whose attention we still held.

  “I really had no idea.” Her eyes darted to Marcy and back again. “I’m so, so sorry.”

  “This no hotel. You leave now.” Again the diner’s owner was in front of me, tossing down a box, for which she would surely charge me extra.

  “Thank you, Ma’am.” Burning skin had sobered me a bit more than Marcy’s – bargain and I tried to make light of the fact that my stay in the diner was no longer welcome. It was never welcome. I bent and retrieved the lady’s metal coffee mug from the floor.

  “Um, could I get two more?”

  “You want two what? I no mind reader!”

  “Of whatever it is I’m wearing.” I chuckled, but she didn’t find me humorous. “Coffee, I think?” The diner lady jerked the metal mug out of my hand and poured my purchase quickly, waving the charge for my cup, her every action urging me to quicken my exit.

  I didn’t blame her. No one really liked me hanging around their establishments, though no one else had ever had the nerve to voice it.

  “Thank you, ma’am.” I pulled my wallet from my pocket, left my guilt in money form and handed one of the fresh brews to the woman who had doused me.

  She stared up at me with perplexed eyes. “You didn’t have to do that.” She seemed to be in awe of my generosity. “And that’s my cup.” She reversed the possession of the metal mugs.

  “Picky,” I attempted to tease, but I really didn’t want to walk around with her pink, heart splattered container anyway.

  “I’m kind of fond of it.”

  I smiled as she tucked a strand of long hair behind her ear and slightly bit the bottom of a set of pouty lips. She moved with a grace that one could only acquire naturally. For a moment I let myself fantasize before I shook it away and cursed a life that would destroy anyone I allowed into it.

  “But, I do appreciate the refill.”

  “It was the least I could do. Call it a thank you.”

  Her blue eyes grew wide and she appeared to be holding her breath as the color in her face deepened.

  “I was hoping I would run into you again.” It was all coming back and I was thrilled to have found a way out of Marcy’s trap.

  “And, you are?” She busied herself preparing her new beverage.

  “We met. A while back – at the Grand?” I spooned my food into the box as I spoke. “I guess I’m not as easy to remember as you are.”

  She plopped a spoon into the hot liquid and swirled it. “That’s a line I’ve never heard before.”

  “I – I – your boyfriend – Stephen – I haven’t seen him around in a while. I know if I had a woman as good looking as you people wouldn’t see much of me, either.”

  She laughed and shook her head. “I’ll tell you exactly what I told him. It was one date and it was a mistake.”

  “So, that would be a no.” I laughed knowing taking her a hotel probably killed Stephen’s chances. What a bone head move? Taking her for dinner there? The addict had made his intentions a little too obvious, though I really couldn’t blame him for trying.

  “I would have taken you someplace better.” I groaned and closed my eyes. I had meant the comment to be part of my thoughts.

  “Are you asking me out? Look, if what happened earlier has given you any ideas …” she blurted out, her words carefully controlled. I made her nervous and I doubted it was caused by mutual attraction. “I’m not that type of girl.”

  “Oh, no, I – um. I’m not asking …”

  “Sure, you’re not,” she mumbled. “Look, I have a job interview to get to. Sorry about your friend, but honestly you’re lucky I remember him at all.”

  “He can be a jerk.”

  “Yeah, and I’m sure you’re a saint,” she spat and opened the door, paused, took a deep breath, then faced me again. “I’m sorry. It’s been a really rotten day. Rotten week, actually. I shouldn’t have taken out on you.”

  “Might help to talk about it.”

  “You don’t even know me. Why would you want to be bored with my problems?”

  “Maybe I think the company is prettier than what I’m used to.” I followed her steps magnetically.

  “Yeah, you’re a player alright. Typical man.” And she was out the door without looking back, even though I silently begged her to throw a glance over her shoulder.

  “That was hitting below the belt, Sweetheart!” I managed to call after her. She had revived feelings I had never wanted to be awakened and she wouldn’t give me so much as a smile as she walked away. “Hey! I never caught your name!”

/>   “Well, that is a shame.” Finally, one brief glance just before she reached her vehicle.

  I chuckled.

  “What a hussy.” Marcy snorted when I returned to collect my lunch.

  “Jealousy is not a good look on you, Marcy.”

  “Oh, Please. You always find interest in weak women, Sean.” She cackled. “Sara was weak. Too weak to survive in your world. That woman is the same, no matter how long you stare after her.”

  “I’m not interested in your two cents, Marcy.” The woman never failed to twist the knife that was lodged in my heart. “I always get change back.”

  “Same old Sean.” She shook her head and paid her bill.

  “I didn’t leave you for Sara, Marcy.” The age old fight continued. I heard her accusations in every conversation.

  “Whatever makes you sleep at night.”

  “Seriously, after all this time, you can’t admit that it was one stupid mistake we made at a party?”

  “You might want to call your lawyer.” She picked up her coffee and slung her oversized, red purse over her shoulder. “You might want to talk to him about a certain dead agent we found this morning in a compromising position. You’re heading to jail this time, Sean, but I am going to give you one free piece of advice. I hope you’re listening because it’s only going to happen once – Stay clear of that woman. She will only break your heart, one way or another.”

  “Thanks for the concern,” I spat sarcastically, knowing Marcy’s warning was for her benefit and not mine as she shoved me to the side and stormed out of the building.

  I sunk my hands into my pockets and leaned against the counter. Outside, the stranger fought to start her vehicle and I fought the urge to go to her aid.

  “Pretty girl,” The little diner owner returned.

  “Yeah.”

  “Not for you.”

  I looked away and studied the food in the box, resisting the need to gaze at the woman, thankful that I would probably never run into her again.

  “You can’t use door. What make you think you hold woman?” She shoved the box into my hand. “Here food. You leave now.”