Well, she doesn’t move away from me, but she stills in my arms. She doesn’t mold to me and thrive in my embrace like she did last night. I knew it would be like this. I just didn’t know it would hurt this much.
“Yo.” I answer the phone how I always do, but when her eyes fall to the counter and then to Jax, I wish I hadn’t answered it at all.
“Got 'em,” Johnny says, and I know exactly what he’s talking about.
“How many?” He got De Luca and his crew. My fists clench, and my blood runs cold. I’m gonna beat the fucking piss out of them and make them suffer for what they did to my girl.
“All.” An evil smirk forms on my face, and I have to walk out of the kitchen to hide it from her.
I remember what Becca said so I ask, “Is a dragon there?”
There’s hesitation on the other end. I know I’m not supposed to ask detailed questions. It can always come back around if shit on the other end is heard.
“It’s here. All of ‘em.” I nod my head and let out a sigh of relief. Her house is fine, untouched. I got that message when I woke up. And now De Luca is done. That’s everything. Everything that’s given me a reason to keep her to myself.
“Later.”
“Later, boss,” he answers quickly, and hangs up. Short calls, that’s the way they have to be.
My brow furrows as I pocket my phone and walk back into the kitchen. I grip the back of the chair that Becca’s sitting in at the island. As soon as these fuckers are gone, there’s no reason for me to keep her here.
My eyes travel to her son who gives me a happy smile before picking his bowl up and slurping the milk out. I know why she doesn’t want me and it hurts, but she’s right. I can’t put her son through this life. I couldn’t guarantee her safety, and I can’t ask her to risk her son. A frown pulls at my lips, and I can’t help it. It hurts. I don’t want to say goodbye.
“Who was that?” I smirk at her. She’s gotta learn to not ask so many questions. The smirk fades as I realize she doesn’t. She doesn’t have to learn shit; she’s leaving me.
“That was what I needed to hear this morning.” That’s all I can really say to her. She’s already seen too much. I won’t risk her knowing any more.
“We can go home?” Her eyes widen with hope. It fucking shreds me.
“Yeah, doll. As soon as Jax is done with breakfast, I’ll let you two go.”
Becca
Everything hurts. Every last bit of me aches. But I won’t take the pills. I want to feel the pain. My chest hurts the worst. The knot where my heart used to be just won’t go away.
“Mommy!” Jax yells through the hall.
“Jax!” He’s butt naked, and his towel is on his shoulders like a cape. I shake my head and try to hide my smile. This kid. “Baby, I told you to get your PJs on.”
“I want sleepover.” He’s giving me those puppy dog eyes he always gives me. But that’s something I can’t cave on. That’ll never happen again. I’m grateful he isn’t anything but happy about everything. He has no idea. Thank fuck he’s only three.
I squat down and hold back the wince from the slight pain in my ass. “We’ll do another play date with Ava soon, okay?” I gently push the hair out of his face and wrap his towel around him.
He purses his lips and narrows his eyes at me, and I can’t help but crack up laughing. “Bedtime, mister.” I use my mommy voice, and he doesn’t like that.
“Daddy never made me go bed.” He pouts, and I have to hold everything back and try to think about what I read online. I’m coming up short. How to handle divorce. How to handle death. I don’t remember. I can’t think. I don’t know what’s best. My body heats with anxiety, and I have no idea how to respond to him.
“Fine!” He stomps his foot and crosses his arms. As soon as his back is turned, I stand and wipe the bastard tears from my eyes.
Fucking hell, could today get any worse?
Work was a disaster; I wish I’d just stayed away. Who the fuck am I kidding? Work was just like every other day. That’s not what hurt about today.
I force myself to straighten my back and pick out a book to read for his bedtime story. “This one, baby?” I ask.
“I’m not a baby, Mom.” He huffs and lies back on the bed. “I’m three.” He holds up three fingers and speaks with exasperation. I wish I wasn’t so fucking emotional, because that really hurt. I want to scream. I want to cry. But instead I ask, “Okay Jax, this one?”
He smiles and nods his head, and it takes everything in me to sit on his bed and pretend like I’m not falling to pieces. I read him the fairytale with the same peppy voice, although my throat feels hoarse and raw. The only thing keeping me together is hearing his little voice tell me he loves me as he hugs me before I get off the bed. He may not think he’s my baby boy, but he is. I hold him longer than I have in a long time, and he lets me. My heart clenches, and I have to give him a kiss and turn out the lights quickly before he sees what a mess I am.
As soon as I shut the door, I let it all out.
I cry harder than I have for years and I stumble into my room, exhausted and wishing I could change everything.
Three loud knocks at the door stir me from my sleep. Shit. I’m still fully clothed and lying on my stomach over the made bed. I wipe under my eyes and slowly climb off the bed, feeling exceptionally unsteady.
Bang! Bang! The knocks pound on the door. I practically jog to the door so the banging doesn’t wake up Jax. Who the fuck is banging at this hour? Anger gets the best of me, and I almost swing the door open without looking. It isn’t even locked. I grind my teeth and nearly snap when whoever it is bangs on the other side again. I need to get a grip and be smart. I stand on my tiptoes to see clearly out of the peephole.
It’s a cop. Fuck!
My heart sputters, and my fingertips go numb. I shake them out and open the door before that fucker decides to knock again.
“Rebecca?” he asks with concern apparent in his voice.
“Yes, that’s me.” I want to correct him, but I don’t; technically that’s my name. I just fucking hate not being called Becca.
“I’d like to speak with you if you have a moment.” His eyes search my face and then behind me. I almost look over my shoulder, but stop myself. I know there’s no one there.
I nod my head and say, “Sure.” But I don’t move an inch. We can have this conversation right here, and real fucking quick.
“We had a call this evening that you and your son were kidnapped and held against your will,” he says far more calmly than I would imagine possible.
I huff a humorless laugh. “Well obviously that’s not true. I’m standing right here.” My fingers itch to touch my chin. To make sure the makeup is still covering the bruises.
The officer shifts uncomfortably in front of me. “Where were you yesterday?” My mouth stays shut as I look him in the eyes.
“I was with a friend.”
“Could I have that friend’s name?” He takes out a pad and a pen from his back pocket and I want to smack it away.
“Am I being charged with anything?” I make sure that my voice echoes annoyance. I’m not annoyed. I’m scared shitless. I don’t want him here asking questions.
“Not unless you’re lying. Are you withholding any information?” The officer’s strong jaw juts out, and he looks past my shoulder again.
“No, I’m not. I’d like to go to bed, officer.” My grip on the door tightens as I add, “I’m fine. There’s no reason to waste either of our time. I’m exhausted and just want to go to bed.” That last part is the truth at least.
“May I come in to take-” I don’t let him finish.
“I’d rather you didn’t. My son’s asleep.” There’s no fucking way I want him in here.
“I completely understand, Mrs. Harrison.” Hearing that name makes anger course through me.
“Bartley now.”
“I’m sorry?” he asks.
“Rebecca Bartley. Harrison was my married name.
”
“Oh. My apologies. Have a good night now.” He seems sincere, but that doesn’t damper my anger. Or my sadness.
I give him a tight smile. “You, too.” I’m surprised the overwhelming emotion I’m feeling is anger. It's followed closely by a deep aching hurt in my gut.
I close the door, turning both locks and lean my back against it. My eyes fall shut, and I try to breathe.
I can’t do this shit on my own.
I wish Dom were here. I wish he could hold me. I wrap my arms around my shoulders and walk slowly to bed, feeling lost and unsure and very much alone.
Dom
I clench and unclench my hands to get rid of the numbness. It makes the cuts open, and it fucking hurts like hell. But I don’t give a shit. I’m glad it hurts.
“You alright, boss?” Johnny keeps fucking asking me the same damn question every hour. No. I’m not alright.
“I’m fine.” When I register what I’ve answered, I snort a laugh. That’s what she’d say.
I take a seat at the desk in the corner of the office. It’s on the opposite side of the room, across from the pool table. It’s a sleek-looking glass desk with steel trimmings. I don’t think I’ve ever sat here. My fingers tap along the glass top, waiting for our next drop.
It’s so fucking tedious. So damn boring. I don’t need to do this shit. I’ve got more money than I’d ever wanted, and nothing to spend it on. What the fuck did I even use to do sitting here?
“Boss?” I look up with a scowl, and then feel like a prick. It’s not his fault. But then again, I am a prick.
I take in a deep breath and manage to sound somewhat normal. “What?”
“Just wanted you to know you still have those requests.”
“What requests?” I ask.
“To sell out if you wanted to.” My forehead pinches in confusion. What the fuck is he talking about? He answers before I have to ask. “I know you said to stop bringing it up, but I just thought you might like to know.”
That’s when it clicks. Give my business over to those thugs? I’m always getting shit offers. They don’t want to pay the right amount to take my clients, and they’d ruin this shit anyway. They don’t know what they’re doing like I do. “Pass.” That’s an easy decision.
Johnny gives me a tight smile and nods. “Just thought maybe you’d rather do something else now.” He takes a seat on the sofa, staring at the field. A few players are out running gauntlets; fucking sucks to be them.
Do something else. Like what? Just run the books for my Pops? That’d be boring as hell. I never really wanted to do anything other than make a name for myself. Get laid, and get paid. That was my motto for the longest time. But now I don’t fucking want it anymore. I don’t want this. Maybe I will sell the business. Maybe she’d want me then.
I shake my head and rap my knuckles across the glass tabletop; no she won’t. It doesn’t change a damn thing about who I am. I know it, and she knows it.
But I’m the boss’ son. He tried to keep me out of the life, but I demanded my way in. You can’t leave the family. Sure as fuck not when you’re the boss’ son. My chest hurts just thinking that. I’ll never be the kind of man Becca deserves. I was born into the mob. There’s only one way out, and I’m not ready to die.
A knock at the door distracts me from my morbid thoughts. I sigh and click my phone on. Ten a.m. Too fucking early. This day needs to get going so I can get home. I’ll figure out a reason to be there when the time comes. I just don’t want to be here.
Johnny opens the door, and my pops' voice booms through the hall.
“Johnny!” I raise my eyes to watch, although I don’t lift my head. Pops pats him on the back and gives him a warm smile. But it’s off. He’s waiting to hear about Clara. I know he is. Something’s going on between the two of them. Not my business though. Not unless he hurts her. Then I’ll make it my business.
“Good to see you, boss.” Johnny makes eye contact and returns the smile. Ballsy. Johnny is most certainly ballsy. He’s been a friend of mine for years, and I sure as shit couldn’t do this business without him. But I don’t like that he’s sneaking around with my sister. And I sure as shit know that Pops doesn’t like it. He better give it up soon and put a ring on her finger.
“Hey Pops.” I lean back in my seat and then stand to greet him. “Didn’t know you were coming.”
We share a quick hug and I motion to the liquor, but he shakes his head.
He takes a casual seat on the sofa, and I relax in the spot next to him. He’s come here a few times, usually because we’re meeting up for a family event… or a family event. But I always know about it ahead of time.
“What’s going on, Pops?”
“I just wanted to make sure you’re doing alright.” He looks me in the eyes, and I almost look away. I lean forward and rest my elbows on my knees and set my chin on my clasped hands. I take a moment to answer him. I don’t know what to tell him. I’m not okay.
I settle on what I hope is the truth. “I’ll be alright.”
“That was intense, Dom. Never seen you like that.” I gaze at the floor and take a deep breath in, followed by a long exhale.
“Yeah, well.” What’s he want me to say? My memory flashes back to a few nights ago, to my fists beating the piss out of them. They were tied down when I got there. Just like they tied her down. I saved the one with the dragon tattoo for last. I wanted to make sure he knew what was coming. I wanted him to watch the rest of them die. De Luca was second to last. No one gave a fuck that I took the lead.
I needed to. I had to. For her.
“Sean went to see her the other night. Rebecca.” Hearing her name brings me back to the present.
“It’s Becca. And I know.” His brows raise in surprise, and his lips turn down.
“She called you?” he asks.
“No, I went over there. Just to tell her she was safe.” My gut churns, and my heart freezes in my chest. I wanted to go up there and talk to her, to convince her to just give it a chance. But I’d be a fucking asshole to do that to her and Jax. They deserve better. So I stayed in my car. Thinking about what a prick I am for wanting her. “I saw him walk up, and I waited.”
“Well, what’d she tell you about it?” Pops leans into me.
I shake my head. “Nothing.” I swallow the lump in my throat and lick my lips before sitting back in my seat. “I didn’t talk to her.”
“Ah.” Pops looks to the left at Johnny and then sighs. “Well,” he turns back to me, “she didn’t give away anything. So she’s cleared. I told Jack to back off.”
“What the fuck is Jack saying now?” My blood heats, and anger stirs inside of me hearing that shit. Back off? He better fucking back off.
“Nothing, Dom.” Pops puts his hand on my shoulder. “He’s just paranoid as fuck. He’s happy now.”
I search his eyes and nod. “He better be fucking happy. She may never be mine to claim, but she’s off limits.”
“I don’t understand, Dom.” He lowers his voice and looks at me with a sad expression. “Is it 'cause she’s got a kid? He’s a good little guy, and he’s-”
I rear my head back to look at him. “That’s not it. That’s not it at all.”
“I don’t get it, Dom. What the hell’s a matter with you?” It’s been a while since my father has talked to me that way.
I chew on the inside of my lip not wanting to say it, but he asked. And he’s the boss. “She’s got to protect her son. She can’t be messing around with me.”
“I didn’t say anything about messing around, Dom. I saw the way you two looked at each other. What you did for her. I know what she means to you. And you’re just going to let her go?”
“I have to. She can’t live this kind of life.” I wave my hand in the air and sit back with a heavy weight on my chest. My hand runs down my face.
“Then give it up. If you think she’s worth it.”
“Give up the familia?” I can’t believe what he’s saying.
/>
He purses his lips and sucks in a deep breath. “That’s not what I meant. Get outta this here. Lay low. Get a boring ass day job with your degree. Do what you gotta do.”
“Do what I gotta do?” I swallow hard. I don’t like subtleties. I’d rather be smacked hard in the face with a blunt answer.
“I can’t tell you any more than that, son. I will say Sunday dinner will always be at our house with the family.”
“What’s that have to do with anything?”
“Just make sure she knows that’s a condition. The only condition.” The only condition. I stare at my Pops for a moment.
He gives me a smile and rises, fixing his suit jacket. “Your ma liked her. That’s a huge victory there.”
“I don’t think it’s as easy as you think, Pops.” I stand up and give him a quick hug with a firm grip.
“If you want her to be yours, then you take her; what’s so hard about that?” He smirks at me and then turns his back and leaves.
I watch the door close shut. If only it could really be that easy.
Becca
The dishes in the large steel sink crash together, and it draws my eyes up to the busboy. He’s new. His arms are skinny as twigs. His eyes dart to mine and then back to the dishes.
“Break any?” I ask lightheartedly to put him at ease. I try to muster up a smile, but I can’t.
“Don’t think so.” He pulls them out carefully, one by one.
At least it wasn’t at the bar. That would’ve been a pain in the ass. Like yesterday. I close my eyes and breathe in deep. I wish I still had Vicky here. She was one of the managers Dom put in charge while I was “recovering from a fall.” I roll my eyes and rub my shoulder as I walk out of the kitchen to the back room. I had to dump her though. I didn’t trust her or the others. I felt like they were always watching me. Like they were going to report back to him.
Those Boys Are Trouble Page 15
