Maneuver_Men of Inked_Southside

by Chelle Bliss

  His eyes never leave me as I get closer. “Here’re your drinks, sir,” I say, sliding them onto the table without being covered in water.

  “Thank you.” He grabs the tallest glass and guzzles down the water like he’s been walking in the desert for days.

  “Did I do better this time?”

  “You did.” He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, green eyes still on me, blazing.

  I resist the urge to grab a glass of water and down the damn thing too. The way he’s looking at me makes me want to crawl into his lap and beg for his kiss again.

  “Grab the credit card reader from Angelo and make it quick this time.”

  Is Lucio jealous of his brother? I never would have pegged him for the insecure or jealous type, especially not when it comes to his family.

  Angelo has the credit card reader on the bar top by the time I make my way across the room. He dips his head but doesn’t say a word. I give him a small smile, not lingering too long because I know Lucio’s patience is already wearing thin.

  I’m halfway to the table when the door to the bar opens with the familiar little bell chiming overhead. “Can I help you, sir?” Angelo asks the person, and I continue walking, ignoring everyone in the room except Lucio.

  “I’m here to see my daughter.”

  I can’t stop the credit card reader from slipping from my grip and crashing to the floor near my feet. All the blood drains from my face, and all the playfulness I was feeling is gone when I hear his voice.

  “Your daughter?” Angelo asks as I turn around with wide eyes, seeing my father standing near the doorway.

  “Delilah,” my father says, rushing in my direction with his hands outstretched. “Thank God you’re okay.”

  I back up, moving closer to Lucio and farther away from my dad. He’s the last person I want to see. My eyes are already filling with tears, my vision blurring, and I can’t seem to walk away fast enough.

  When my father grabs my arm, I pull away and glare at him. “Get the hell out,” I snap, not caring who hears or what kind of scene I’m making. I figure the few guys sipping beers only a few feet away have heard worse. “You’re not welcome here.”

  “Baby, don’t say that,” he says, trying to touch me again, but I jump backward, slamming into a wall of muscle.

  “You heard the lady. Get out.” Lucio’s voice is loud and deep. He wraps an arm around my waist and moves himself in front of me. “You’re not welcome here, Mr. Miles.”

  “I’m her father. I have every right to speak with my daughter. She’s none of your concern, boy. This is family business.”

  My father looks normal, dressed in one of his best suits with bright eyes and no slur to his words. He’s sober and doesn’t look as disheveled as the night he kicked me out of the car. So any hatred he spews is coming from a clear head and not the alcohol.

  I grip the back of Lucio’s shirt, hiding my face as I wipe away the tears with my free hand. I don’t want my father to see me crying. He’s hurt Lulu and me enough to last a lifetime, and I’m not about to let him have another round at bruising my heart.

  “Family business?”

  I can’t see Lucio’s face, but every muscle in his back is tight, and there’s a low rumble, almost a growl, deep in his chest.

  Angelo rounds the bar and starts to walk in our direction, when Lucio holds out his hand, stopping his brother from entering the fray.

  “You have five seconds to get out before I toss you out on your ass,” Lucio tells my father.

  God, I love this man for the way he defends me when no one else in my life ever has. My father should’ve always been my protector, but he’s been nothing but a nightmare. I’m done being his whipping post.

  “Wait.” I yank on Lucio’s T-shirt and peer up at him.

  Lucio looks over his shoulder, and I can see the anger in his eyes, but it’s not toward me. “You want to talk to him?”

  “I need to say my piece,” I tell him. I know that I need to have closure and leave my father in the past. “Let me have this.”

  It’s the only way I can move on and start over again. Pushing him out the door will only make him come back, and next time, he’ll probably be shit-faced.

  Lucio nods, stepping aside without another word or an argument.

  “Outside,” I say, not moving until my father starts toward the door first.

  “Hey.” Lucio grabs my hand as I take a step forward. “I won’t be far.”

  “Thanks.” I muster a smile, but inside, I’m shaking like a leaf. “I need to do this.”

  He releases my hand, and I walk toward the doorway, where my father’s waiting. There’s pain in his eyes, but it’s always there after he has a drunken episode like the other night. Next, he’ll beg for forgiveness and promise to attend meetings, but this time, I won’t believe a word that comes from his lying mouth.

  My father paces on the sidewalk in front of the bar, dragging his hands through his hair as I lean against the wall near the entrance. “You wanted to talk, so talk,” I tell him and pick at my nails because I can’t bring myself to even look at him.

  I’ve had a lifetime of dealing with his drunkenness, so you’d think I’d be better at handling the aftermath by now. I’ve always forgiven him in the past. I never forgot, but I found a way to move on, especially after I found out I was pregnant. He made so many promises, and stupid me thought he’d clean up his life for his granddaughter, but I should’ve known better.

  He comes to a stop and faces me, but he doesn’t bring his eyes to mine. “I’m sorry, Delilah,” he says and runs his fingers through his perfectly combed hair. “I was having a bad night.”

  “You have a lot of those.” My voice is even, which is surprising because my insides are burning with rage.

  The hurt in his eyes would’ve probably affected me a week ago, but standing here now, I feel nothing.

  “I want you to come home,” he pleads.

  “No,” I say firmly.

  He looks up at the building and makes a face of disgust. I know what he’s thinking. He’s always looked down at people who didn’t fit his perfect, wealthy mold. “You don’t belong in a place like this.” He waves his hand toward the bar.

  I push off the wall, walking toward him quickly, and I stick my finger right in the middle of his chest. “The thing I didn’t deserve was being tossed out on the street with my daughter, your granddaughter, without a penny to my name. What I didn’t deserve was a narcissistic father who was more worried about getting his next drink than his own family.” I poke him a little harder this time because it feels good, and my anger’s rolling harder and deeper than it ever has before. “What I didn’t deserve was putting up with an asshole like you for the last ten years. I never walked out on you, Dad.”

  “I know.”

  “Mom left because she couldn’t deal with your drinking, but I stayed.” My voice grows louder because my anger is at a boiling point, and I’m close to blowing.

  “She left you, too,” he says, reminding me of the fact that my mother couldn’t even be bothered with me, choosing the hot pool boy over both of us.

  “Shut up!” I push him backward using my finger, and he doesn’t fight back. “I will not go back home with you because it has never been anything more than a shelter. There’s no love between us. You don’t give a single shit about Lulu or me. You made that perfectly clear when you left us here.”

  “I need you,” he says, but I don’t believe a word of what he’s telling me.

  “Hire a housekeeper. I’m sure someone will put up with your drunken tirades for enough money. I’m done with you. I’ve spent enough of my life dealing with your verbal abuse, and I will not subject my daughter to it too.” He steps backward, trying to get away from my finger, but I follow. “If you really feel bad, put my money back in my account. It’s not yours to take. It’s mine and Lulu’s. If you really care, you’ll make sure at least her future’s secure.”

  He stares at me, and t
here’s a flash of emotion on his face, but I’m not sure if it’s sadness or something else. My father’s never been one to share his feelings unless he’s filled with a bottle of vodka.

  “It’s my account too,” he says like he’s justifying his theft of well over a million dollars that was left to me.

  I pull my finger away from his chest and take a step backward, glaring at him. “Because I was under eighteen when Grandma died. It’s not yours.”

  “Come home, and I’ll return the money. Or stay here, and see what it’s really like to survive on your own.”

  “I would rather live on the streets than live under the same roof as you again. Unlike you, my daughter is my first priority.”

  “Don’t be a fool, Delilah. These aren’t your people,” he scoffs, and his facial features tighten. “I brought you up better than this.” He waves his hand through the air again, motioning toward the bar.

  “These people have been kinder to me in a few days than you have been in the last ten years. I’d rather Lulu be around people who shower her with love than throw money at her in hopes of winning her affection.”

  “Already sleep with one of them?” He throws the familiar words in my face, but this time, he’s wrong.

  “Just go, Dad. Don’t look for me. Forget I even exist.”

  “You’ll always be a whore just like your mother. Your bastard child will always be a reminder. I was sorry for what happened, but I can see you have no forgiveness in your heart. You’re no better than her.”

  His words are meant to hurt me, but they don’t mean anything anymore. I’m nothing like my mother, or my father either. I will always put Lulu first. I will never let her feel like less than the amazing little girl she is, and I will never allow her around anyone who’s willing to hurt her.

  Whether they’re blood or not, no one will have that power over her or me again.

  I glance to the side and see Lucio peeking around the corner of the building. I shake my head, waving him off. I know he wants to rush to my side and physically remove my father, stopping the last words I hope I’ll ever speak to him. I want this moment. I want the goodbye to be final and leave no room for him to come back.

  “Goodbye, Dad,” I say and turn my back to him. “Don’t come back. We’re no longer your problem or your family.”

  He curses at me as I walk back through the door to the bar. The few people inside scramble back to their seats, clearly having been listening to the exchange and sticking their nose in my business.

  My face turns red, and I’m completely embarrassed, ready to sprint toward the bathroom to hide. But then the guys in the bar start clapping.

  “You did good, kid,” one of the men says, punching me lightly in the shoulder as I walk by.

  “You have some balls, little girl,” another one adds and dips his head. “Lemme buy you a drink.”

  “No, no.” I half smile and laugh because they’re so happy and sweet, although a little strange. “Thanks.”

  The sadness I would’ve felt in the past isn’t there anymore. I’m not sorry for the things I said to my father or the fact that I cut him out of my life once and for all. I was done being his carpet to step on when he felt his life wasn’t going the way he wanted. He has shit to deal with, and I’m not going to be there to watch him crash and burn.

  12

  Lucio

  “I’m taking her home for a while,” I tell Angelo as Delilah runs into the bathroom, probably crying her eyes out.

  “Take all the time you need. Delilah needs you.” He nods, tipping his head toward the mostly empty bar. “We won’t be busy tonight, and Michelle’s coming in soon.”

  “Tell Ma we’ll be back for Lulu later.”

  “Don’t rush,” Ma says as she comes down the stairway, holding Lulu in one arm. “I heard every bit of that nasty man. You take that girl home, and don’t let her out of the house until she’s ready. Words like that don’t leave a child’s mind, no matter how old they are.”

  “I know, Ma.”

  My father may not have been the best partner, but he was a great dad. He was always kind and patient, even when we probably didn’t deserve it. Raising four kids couldn’t have been easy for either of my parents, but they never made it seem like a hardship or a duty.

  Never once, no matter how many times we fucked up, did they talk to us the way Delilah’s father just talked to her.

  “Go make her whole again, baby.” Ma kisses my cheek as I run the back of my finger down Lulu’s soft, pudgy cheek, hating the idea of her ever hearing such hateful words. “Lulu and I are fine together. We’re about to go for a walk. Now, get moving. There’s a woman who needs you back there.”

  Delilah’s sitting on the floor, leaning against the wall of the bathroom as I walk inside to make sure she’s okay.

  “He’s such an asshole,” she says as soon as she sees me, but there’re no tears on her face. “I’m sorry you had to see that.”

  I sit down next to her, touching her shoulder with mine. “Don’t ever be sorry.”

  “I’m so mad right now, I want to punch something.”

  I push against her shoulder and point at my chest. “You can hit me if it’ll make you feel better.”

  She glances up at me with a small laugh. “You’re the last person I want to punch, Lucio.”

  “You won’t hurt me,” I promise her and pound on my chest to prove how solid I am.

  “I can’t,” she tells me.

  “You’ll feel better, though.” I’m pretty sure her punch would barely make me flinch. Delilah’s so tiny, and her hands are so dainty, I’m not even sure she could hit much harder than a little girl.

  “Don’t be ridiculous.”

  “Let’s get out of here, then.” I stand and hold my hand out to her, hoping she’ll take me up on my offer to help her relax a little.

  She slides her hand into mine without hesitation, and I pull her to her feet. “But what about work?”

  I shake my head and pull her tightly into my arms. “I know the boss. We’re good.”

  She laughs a little and rests her head against my chest. “I can’t say thank you enough.”

  “Hush now,” I tell her as I press my lips to the top of her head. “Don’t thank me. I haven’t done anything heroic.”

  “You treat me better than my own parents.”

  “Well, I want in your pants,” I joke, but my words aren’t entirely false.

  I want more than that from Delilah. I can see much more than a great fuck. I see a future. I see a woman who’s fierce, kind, and willing to take a risk instead of bowing to someone else’s will for a boatload of cash.

  She slaps at my chest playfully. “Don’t be a dick.”

  “It’s so difficult, though. Sometimes you make it so easy to let that side of myself shine.”

  She peers up at me with a soft face and kind eyes. “You’re really a good guy, Lucio.”

  “Don’t tell anyone. I don’t want to ruin my reputation around here.”

  She rolls her eyes and stands on her tiptoes, trying to bring her face closer to mine. I cup her cheeks in my hands and press my lips against hers. There’s nothing hungry in this kiss. I don’t rush through the action because this is about emotion, not lust.

  “I’ll be by your side, Delilah. No matter what happens, I’ll never turn my back on you,” I promise her.

  “Why are you so nice to me?” Delilah’s blue eyes never leave me as I carry the dishes to the sink.

  “Why wouldn’t I be nice?”

  Delilah shrugs and plays with the napkin in front of her. “Your family may be the only genuinely nice people I’ve ever met who weren’t looking for something in return.”

  Leaning against the countertop, I stare at the woman who’s been beaten down but refuses to be broken. “Maybe it’s all a ruse, and I’m secretly going to sell you into sex slavery when you let down your guard.”

  “Stop being silly. I mean it, Lucio. People aren’t nice.”

&nbs
p; “Maybe where you come from. But down here, people tend to be kind and look out for each other. That’s why I never moved out of the neighborhood.”

  She sighs. “I wonder what it would’ve been like to grow up like you. Loving parents, siblings, and nice people. I bet it was the best ever.”

  “Don’t get me wrong. There’re some real assholes around here too, but I don’t ever regret where I come from. I’m proud to be a South Sider.”

  She stands and rounds the island, coming to a stop in front of me. “Do you like me, Lucio?” she asks point-blank.

  “I do,” I answer honestly as she steps between my legs. “I thought I made it pretty clear.”

  “Do you like me as a friend or…”

  I place my finger under her chin, forcing her eyes back to mine when she glances down. “I want to be more than your friend, Delilah. I don’t make a habit of kissing my friends.”

  “Thank you for this,” she says, pressing her body to mine and pushing against my cock.

  Sliding my palm along her cheek, I run my thumb across the bottom edge of her lip. “For what?”

  “This,” she states and leans forward, taking a play right out of my book.

  The air’s knocked out of me, just like the first time I planted my lips on hers. I said I’d ruin her, but in reality, she devastated me. Changed me forever. There was no turning back. No other kiss in the history of kisses could compare to kissing Delilah Miles.

  Grabbing her by the waist, I lift her into the air and place her on the countertop before pushing her legs apart. “I want you,” I murmur against her lips, not wanting to miss a moment of her sweet taste.

  Her fingers find their way under my T-shirt, and her nails scrape the tender flesh of my ribs. “I need you,” she moans as I gently pull at her bottom lip with my teeth.

  My eyes search hers, looking for any signs of hesitation, but her blue eyes burn for me. My thumbs slip under the hem of her T-shirt, sliding across the soft skin near the waistband of her jeans, and she shudders. I deepen the kiss, needing something to focus on before I tear her shirt over her head and move too fast. I want to savor every inch of her body and enjoy every dip and curve, reveling in the taste of her flesh and the softness of her skin.