“I never knew you had an aunt that lived here,” I say, reaching for my pilsner glass of beer. I’m not going to lie; this place makes me feel like a fish out of water. I mean, who the fuck drinks beer out of a glass, anyway?
“Yes, Aunt Gertrude,” she says, taking a sip of her wine. “She’s my father’s aunt and for my twenty-first birthday, she bought us tickets to see Wicked. I haven’t had a break with school and all until now. We went to the show last night and I decided to stay an extra day to see the sights.”
“Does Robert know you’re here?”
Setting her glass down, she looks away.
“I haven’t spoken to Rob since the day after we got into the accident.
“I saw his mom a couple of months back. She mentioned that she thought he was staying with you and mom. How is she?”
It’s my turn to look away.
“Mom passed away a couple of months back.”
“Oh my God,” she whispers, reaching across the table for my hand. At her gentle touch, I lift my head and stare at our joined hands, watching her thumb trace circles over my open palm. “I’m sorry,” she continues. “What happened?”
Exhaling, I lift my eyes to hers.
“She had brain cancer. It was too late by the time she found out,” I reveal, and she squeezes my hand in response. “Its fine,” I tell her. “Don’t get me wrong, there isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t think of her or wish she was here, but she went peacefully with her two boys at her side.”
“I wish I would’ve known,” she whispers, brushing a tear away from her perfect face.
“She loved you.”
“I loved her too,” she says softly.
A beat of silence stretches between us as I release her hand and drag in a deep breath. Desperate to change the solemn mood, I tip my chin to her plate.
“How’s your steak?”
“Perfect,” she replies, glancing down at her mostly full plate. Her eyes dart to my empty one and she offers me a smile. “Apparently so was yours.”
“I’m a quick eater,” I say with a shrug. “So, tell me, you’re almost done with college, any plans for the future?”
“First, I have a question for you,” she retorts, cutting into her steak.
“Shoot.”
“Were you the reason Tom was hospitalized?”
“What do you think?”
“Yes,” she replies, popping the bite of steak into her mouth. Is it ridiculous to envy a piece of meat? Instead of making a fool out of myself by staring at her as she chews, I bring the beer to my lips and take a long gulp.
“You still with him?”
“God, no,” she says with a laugh. “Are we being honest with one another?”
“Have we ever lied to one another?” I counter.
Cocking her head, she eyes me skeptically, calling bullshit.
“Fine, I may have had a run in with your boyfriend,” I confess.
“And, I may have only dated him to forget about you,” she reveals.
“How’d that work out for you?” I ask hoarsely, not really sure I want to know the answer.
“Do we ever forget our first love?” she murmurs, keeping our eyes locked.
“No, I suppose you don’t,” I reply huskily.
The waiter comes along and clears my plate. I order another beer as she continues to finish up her meal. After we share dessert, tiramisu, I pay the check and we exit the swanky steakhouse hand in hand. It’s clear neither of us is willing to end the night as we aimlessly walk the streets of Manhattan. Another hour goes by and we wind up at her hotel.
Begrudgingly, I take her into my arms and kiss her cheek.
“I hate that I’m always saying goodbye to you,” I confess against her ear before pulling away. Her hands grip the ends of my cut and she bites her lip. I’d give anything to know what she’s thinking but I’m too much of a coward to ask. Instead, I soak in her features, memorizing every freckle.
“What if we didn’t have to say goodbye yet?” she finally says, lifting her chin. “What if we took the detour?”
Swallowing, I find her eyes and search them to see if there is a hint of hesitation in her pretty brown irises.
“What detour might that be?”
“The one that leads us both to my hotel room.”
“Joss—”
“It’s one night, Eric. One night to live without wondering what if.”
As my eyes flit to her full lips, I hear my mother whisper in my ear, take the detour. All the reasons I’ve kept my distance flee me and my mouth covers her, finally claiming what’s been always been mine.
Owning the decision.
Owning her.
Ten
Sex with Joss exceeded any dream I could’ve conjured. I don’t know if it was because I actually loved the woman I was with or if it was knowing I only had one night with her, whatever the case, it was the best I ever had, and I couldn’t get enough of her.
I could’ve gone at it until the sun came up, but by the fourth time my girl was exhausted, and I realized watching someone sleep was just as intimate as worshipping their body. Holding Joss, counting her breaths, it was the greatest time of my life and I knew without a shadow of a doubt, I’d never forget how perfect her naked body fit next to mine.
It was the best night of my life.
Until five o’clock rolled around and my cell phone went off, alerting me hell had broke loose. Apparently, there was a shoot-out at Temptations, some fucking mob shit, and every man with a reaper on his back was called to duty.
Once I was fully dressed, I walked around the bed and took a moment to stare at the girl I could never truly have. I contemplated waking her but, in the end, I saved us both the heartache of another goodbye and with a kiss to her forehead, I slipped out of the room like a fucking phantom.
The days that followed were grueling. In between guarding Victor’s youngest daughter and her boyfriend, I was dealing with the guilt of leaving Joss again. I couldn’t help but feel as if I made a colossal mistake. Sure, I thought I was sparring us anymore pain but the more I thought about it, the more I started to think leaving her like a five-dollar hooker in a hotel was not the right move. She deserved more. She deserved my heart.
My soul.
She deserved to know I loved her and that night we shared meant everything to me, but I’d never get the chance to tell her that.
Months would pass before I got a break from the mob drama and the worst part of it all was that I couldn’t even confide in Riggs. He was too busy babysitting the other mob princess and her boyfriend, Anthony Bianci, who also happened to be Victor’s former enforcer. We were like two fuckin ships passing in the night.
By the time things slowed down and Victor was sent to prison, the need to share my own drama faded. Besides, Riggs was too busy chasing Anthony’s sister, Lauren, a cute little ex-nursing student with a rebellious streak. That didn’t mean I didn’t often think about Joss or that night.
In fact, I’m sure I’ll think about that night until the day I die.
It’ll be the best thing that ever happened to me and my biggest regret.
Just another dead-end.
Eleven
It only took two fucking years, but my man was finally a patched member of the Satan’s Knights. It’s a shame he got his colors at a time when everything was falling to shit, and we were all spiraling out of control. The shit with the mob didn’t die because the mob boss was doing life in prison. If anything, it got worse and somehow; we were at the center of it all.
On top of that, we were still reeling from Jack’s brother’s death, Blackie was off the wagon, shooting whatever the fuck he could get his hands on and Riggs was falling in deep with the Bianci broad. He went as far as to bring her to the clubhouse one night. If her fucking brother found out, he was as good as dead—another fucking complication we didn’t need. Especially since we were working to bring down Jack’s brother’s killer who also happened to be connected to the new
boss of the Pastore family.
To say we were fucked was putting it mildly.
Still, we were trying to make the best of it and so, here we all are, partying like it's nineteen ninety-nine, celebrating Riggs’ decent into hell.
Pushing away the whore who's been sucking on my cock for the last fifteen minutes, I pull up my pants and reach over the bar, grabbing a bottle of whiskey. Poison isn’t only Blackie’s best friend these days. It’s become mine too.
“Baby let's go back to your room,” Cindy croons.
I’d rather cut my dick off before fucking her again.
“I’m good,” I tell her. “You’re dismissed.”
“I’m dismissed?”
“I didn’t stutter.”
On top of drinking myself stupid, I’ve also taken on the role of a supreme dick. Leaving Cindy with her jaw on the floor, I roll my eyes and make my way down to the other end of the bar and zip my fly.
“Am I the only one who hasn’t gotten laid yet?” Riggs questions.
If anyone should be getting pussy, it’s this guy.
“What the fuck are you waiting for?” I ask, shoving a cigarette between my lips. Flicking my lighter, I fire it up and take a drag.
“I need a brunette,” he says, taking the cigarette from me.
“And what? You can’t find one?” I ask incredulously, pulling another cigarette from my pack as my eyes sweep around the crowded room. “What about her,” I suggest, tipping my beer across the room. “Pretty enough, if you bend her over and take her from behind. Her face is fucked, but she’s got an ass that makes up for that shit.”
Laughing, I watch as he covers one eye and tries to focus on the brunette I’m referencing. Before Riggs can decide if he wants a piece of that mess, Pops, an old fuck that runs the gun range, comes up and starts breaking our chops. The old geezer is always looking to turn a buck and is taking bets.
Riggs loses his patience with Pops, declares he wants in on a fight and takes off. I watch him stalk towards Blackie and the blonde trailing behind him. A little while later he disappears into the back with a pie in his hands. I continue to nurse my bottle of booze, taking in the surrounding chaos when I spot the Bianci girl walking into the clubhouse, dressed to kill.
Immediately, I scan the room in search for Riggs and cringe when I catch him sitting on a couch in plain sight getting his dick sucked.
The kid’s got shit luck.
Lauren spots him and before she can run, I intervene, stepping to her and flashing her a grin. Giving Riggs a chance to figure out how the fuck he’s going to explain another woman’s mouth on his cock, I touch my hand to Lauren’s back and let my fingers travel up her bare skin.
I’m not going to lie.
The girl is fucking fine with a capital F.
She narrows her eyes at me as I hear Wolf bellow. Turning my attention to the hungry beast, I spot Riggs standing behind him with his gun cocked and aimed at me.
“Whoa, brother, what the hell are you doing?” Wolf shouts.
“Get the fuck out of my way, Wolf,” Riggs growls.
All of a sudden, Lauren steps in front of me and starts dancing with me, shimmying her tight little ass against me. Understanding what she’s trying to do, I play along and grab her hips. Spinning us around, my back to Riggs, I lean into Lauren.
“You putting on a show, Little Bianci?”
“I’m dancing,” she argues.
“Make him suffer,” I tease. “The kid never had to work for a thing in his life. It’ll do him good to learn the best things in life don’t come easy.”
Instead of replying, she ducks her head and hides her face in my chest.
“What are you doing?”
“Um… do you have a gun? Who am I kidding? You all have guns, don’t you?” she questions, slapping her hand against her forehead. “It doesn’t matter, listen, now might be the time to grab the gun,” she rambles on.
“You’re one of those crazy chicks that wants to get fucked with a gun aimed at her?” I ask, narrowing my eyes. She didn’t strike me as the fetish type.
“What? No! Girls do that?”
“Kinky shit, sure. Had a girl that wanted me to choke her. Shit ain’t for me,” I explain.
“Shit!” Lauren hisses.
Something digs into my back and I turn my head a fraction as Lauren explains.
“I didn’t want you to fuck me with the gun, you dope! I was trying to warn you that if you didn’t pull yours, he’d get to you first,” she huffs. “Too late,” she adds.
“Kitten,” Riggs growls. The barrel of his gun digs deeper as he leans over my shoulder and snarls against my ear. “You ever touch her again, I’ll blow your dick off,” he says, dropping the gun.
In a flash, I turn around and grind my teeth as I lean into him.
Brother or no brother.
Games or not.
You don’t pull a fucking gun on me.
“You ever pull your gun on me again and I’ll blow your dick off, you hear me?” I seethe. “Pretty fine piece of ass you got there. I’ll take her when you’re finished,” I taunt, patting him on the back before I wink at Lauren and step away from them.
Reaching the bar, I pull a joint from my pocket and settle into a stool. As I light the end, I watch Riggs carry Lauren out of the clubhouse and wonder if the poor bastard knows he’s falling in love with his kitten.
Twelve
The mob war imploded, and it did so right on our doorstep, proving the club had every reason to be divided when it came to Jack’s alliance with Victor. It didn’t matter that the man was up the river and probably would never see the light of day, the guy who was now running his organization was a deranged mother fucker that made Jack look sane.
The son of a bitch kidnapped Blackie and Jack’s woman, Reina, and demanded we deliver him a shit ton of drugs in exchange for their lives. We weren’t in the business of dealing drugs and so our backs were against the wall and the clock was ticking. Riggs had installed a security system for one of our buyers, Sun Wu and he dipped into the footage, discovering the apartment he wired acted as a drug den. With no other way to get our hands on the drugs we needed to get back Blackie and Reina, we decided to rob the Chinese.
Jack put the club on lockdown and we went in, guns blazing, dropping bodies left and right. We took the drugs and made our way to take care of Jimmy-fucking-Gold and took back our people. However, Gold shot Blackie up with enough drugs to take down an elephant and we had to take him to the hospital.
Blackie’s in a coma, Reina’s traumatized, and we returned to the clubhouse only for Lauren’s mother, Maria Bianci to rip into Riggs.
Surprise! The little ascot-wearing fuck is going to be a dad!
The shit hit the fan and Riggs lost his cool like I’ve never seen before. He disappeared into his room with Lauren and damned us all to fucking hell.
Now, it’s the next day and I’m sitting in my room, across from his waiting for him to have a nervous breakdown. As long as I know him, he’s never once mentioned having a family. I don’t even know if he likes fuckin kids. Hell, I never seen him so much as look at one much less hold it.
Deciding he’s hidden long enough, I open my door and lean against the frame and prepare to throw my boot at his door. Suddenly, it swings open and Riggs looks like he’s ready to jump out of his own skin. Knowing him as well as I do, I step aside and wait for him to explode into a fit of chaos.
“Was wondering when you were going come out of hiding,” I say, smugly. “You all right bro, you’re looking a little green,” I tease.
“Man, I’m fucked,” Closing the door behind me, I lean against it and quietly observe him for a moment.
“So, congratulations would be the wrong thing to say?”
“Laugh it up,” he hisses, pacing my room, running his fingers through his hair. Roughly tugging the ends, his eyes bulge as they slice towards me. “What the fuck am I going to do?”
Sighing, I make my way to my dresser and pull o
ut the cigar box I keep my weed in. Retrieving a perfectly rolled joint, I lift it to my nose and breath in the scent before lighting it up.
“You talk to her?” I ask.
“Barely,” he mutters as I take a toke. “I think she’s just as fucked as me but hides it better,” he admits, reaching for the joint.
“So, she’s going to keep it?”
“She’s named it already!” he shouts, coughing up smoke.
Covering my mouth, I try not to laugh in his face.
“Seriously, man, I’m drowning here,” he says, taking a long drag of the joint. “My life isn’t cut for a kid. I don’t even have a car! What am I supposed to do? Strap a sidecar onto my bike?”
Now that is something I would pay to see.
Actually, the whole fucking situation is pretty entertaining. As fucked as he may be, I can picture him a father. Not like a Danny Tanner or even Mike Brady but like a Homer Simpson.
The thought alone causes me to laugh and, he glares at me. Trying to compose myself, I clear my throat and cross my arms against my chest.
“Look, you’ve got nine months to figure it out. Isn’t that how long a woman is pregnant for? It could be worse, bro,” I say, supportively. “At least your baby mama is hot as hell. That’s a plus.”
“Dude, I have a baby mama. Just stop right there,” he sighs heavily. “Man, I don’t want a kid. I don’t know the first thing about being a father. My old man was never around, always chasing a dollar or a dream. He thought being a father meant handing me a trust fund. I never had a dad so how the fuck am I supposed to be one?”
Uncrossing my arms, I take the joint and one more hit before crushing it into the ashtray as I digest his words.
“You do everything he never did,” I say simply. “You man the fuck up because twenty years from now you don’t want your kid saying the same words you just did.” I watch the wheels in his head turn and something snaps inside me. I know what it’s like to be abandoned by your father and I know Riggs is better than that. He’s better than my old man. He’s scared.
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