Supernatural Syndicate: A Limited Edition Collection of Magical Mafia Stories
Page 45
Using the light from the display to guide me, I made my way to the phone, wincing as a sharp pain crept its way from my ankle up my leg. I’d be limping for the rest of the day or week, depending on how much damage I’d caused. I picked up the phone from the vanity, pressed the display to accept the call and pulled it to my ear. As I’d suspected, it was Nurse Daily, calling me with news of my mother. My heart raced in my chest as she gave me the news. If my mother couldn’t get a transplant in the next week, I’d lose her forever.
I ended the call. Though I’d expected the news, I’d hoped I had time to come up with enough money to cover the surgery our insurance refused to cover. They thought her a lost cause given her chances of living a full life after the surgery were slim to none. At the least, she’d survive another year before inevitably meeting her maker. At most, she’d struggle through the next ten years barely holding on, but she’d be alive. Either way I’d have to say goodbye to the only family I had left after my father was taken from me, but I wasn’t ready to lose her. Not yet. Not when the thought of being alone caused my palms to sweat and a lump to form in my throat. So what if she had to suffer? She’d been the reason my father was no longer around, and as heartless as it sounded, she owed me.
I tossed the phone back on the vanity before reclaiming my spot on the bed. But no matter how much I tried, I couldn’t go back to sleep. Not with the anxiety over my mother’s condition and the memories of my father flowing freely through my head. I stared at the wall blindly, allowing visions of my father to consume me. I remembered everything about him.
The way he’d smile the moment he walked through the front door after a long day of work.
The way he’d cherished every moment he had with me and Momma.
And the way he’d make brought light to every dark spot in our lives.
My father was my everything, even if he’d chosen the wrong woman for his wife. Where her greed and selfishness brought us to ruin, his hard work and dedication saw us prosper. I could still see his face, his rich brown eyes beneath bushy dark brows and salt and pepper hair cut short to his scalp and faded on both sides. True to his Mexican heritage, his skin was brown as if kissed by the sun. I could still see his gentle smile, punctuated by two dimples. I could hear his deep laughter roaring through the house, echoing off the walls as I regaled him with tales of my childhood angst. He’d always made it a point to steer me from my darkness, to bring light to everything I’d endured and he’d succeeded in doing just that.
I could still smell his cologne as it wafted around me, encasing me in the scent I’d come to know as safety, love, and acceptance. Where my mother had chastised me for being a tomboy, my father had no such inclinations. To him, I was perfect the way I was and he’d made it a point to embrace all of my many phases.
Hatred rumbled in my gut for the mother who laid on her death bed, fighting for a life she didn’t deserve. Were I not afraid of navigating this life alone, I would’ve pulled the plug on her a long time ago. But as it was, I couldn’t bring myself to do so. Not when it meant I’d have no one left, and not when I knew my father would be disappointed in that choice.
It was for that reason I’d dragged myself from my bed, took a quick shower, tugged a comb through my course dark hair, and slipped into my uniform. Waitressing barely paid the bills but at Marcia’s, the tips were good enough to get me by.
I went through my shift on autopilot, smiling at the guests, flirting when the need arose and doing my best to force my customers to part with enough money to get me through the day. When the shift was over, I counted my tips in the safety of a bathroom stall, making sure to pocket at least a hundred before carrying the rest to my boss.
His full lips curled into a smile as he counted the bills I’d collected.
“You comped the couple at the bar, and you’ll be covering that with your tips.” He counted out sixty of the hundred I’d given him, his fat fingers too anxious to pocket money I’d earned.
“You also owe me for that day you took off two weeks ago,” he said, taking another twenty from the pile.
By the time he was finished prattling off a list of my offenses, I had fifteen dollars left of the hundred I gave him. I pocketed the money with a grimace. Had I given him the full amount of my tips, they’d be stripped bare until he handed me the same fifteen dollars he just did.
I spun away from him, pointing my feet toward the exit before taking a step towards it. A beefy hand reached out and grabbed my wrist, spinning back so fast I stumbled forward into a soft chest. His arms snaked around my waist as he pulled me closer, grinding his hips forward. If his stomach were flat, I’m sure I would’ve felt the evidence of his arousal pressing into me as one hand fell to cup my ass, giving it a harsh squeeze.
“How long do you plan on playing these games with me, June?” he asked, using the hand that wasn’t squeezing my ass to grip my chin and force me to look at him.
I straightened myself, pushing from his arms as my eyes met his. Fury radiated from me so thick I began to tremble from the weight of it.
“Don’t touch me,” I sneered, slapping his hands away and running my hands over my clothes.
One corner of his lips tugged up, his eyes raking over me in a salacious show of appreciation before focusing on my breasts. I bristled under his scrutiny, bile pushing in my throat as I imagined his filthy hands on my body. Swallowing it down, I gave him an impassive stare. He loved my reactions to him, the way my hands trembled and my body slunk away from him. To him, I was a scared lamb that would do anything to keep myself safe from him and he was a predator, waiting, creeping beneath the cover of brush until he found his opening to attack. To me, he repulsed me. Sweat stained his white tank top a yellow so dark it was almost brown as it stretched over the mass of him. His stomach hung over a pair of tight-fitting jeans that clung to his bulk for dear life. How his wife could stand to touch him, I didn’t know. I could only imagine he’d took from her the same way he would take from me given the opportunity. He’d get no opportunity from me.
“I’m growing tired of this little game of cat and mouse.” He took a step toward me, invading my space. “While I enjoy the chase, I think you and I both know this will inevitably lead to you beneath my sheets. After all, you need this job more than I need you.”
A week ago, I would have coward beneath his harsh gaze, tried to come up with some placating remark to get him to back off while still dangling him on that string enough to keep my job. Today, however, I had an out. Though it wasn’t an out I was particularly happy with, it was an out all the same. I allowed my mind to drift back to the proposition literally laid at my doorstep. Two men, brothers, wanted to spend the night with me, wanted me to be open to a night of consensual sex and courtship for a large sum of money, money that would take me out of this place and set me up to be more self sufficient. Because that’s what I needed more than anything. I had everything taken from me. My life laid in tatters from the moment my mother forced my father to make a bad deal before she forced him to trade my innocence to cover her crimes. I haven’t been innocent since and if giving my body for a night could end my suffering…fuck it. I’d do what I had to do to make ends meet and change my life around for the better.
I stabbed him in the chest with my finger, stepping forward and backing him away from me. “You may think I owe you some sort of gratitude for keeping me off the books, and allowing me to work here without documenting me. While you held up your end of the deal, I’ve held up mine. I’m the hardest worker you have here. I’ve gone above and beyond since stepping into this filthy establishment. I owe you gratitude for what you’ve done but I owe you nothing above that. My work has seen this place thrive. The nights I’ve spent cleaning up the place, decorating it, making it somewhere people would love to spend their waking moments devouring good food. I trained your waitstaff to be more proficient. It was my work that took this place from being a hole-in-the-wall dive to something anyone would be proud of. I won’t give this place a
nything else. If you want to fire me because I won’t slink into your bed and allow you to put your disgusting hands on me, fine. I fucking quit. Fuck you and fuck whatever hole you crawled out of.”
With that, I turned away from him and exited the diner. Fuck him. Benji Marcia would never get the best of me. As the afternoon sun bore into my flesh, I knew now I had no choice but to take the proposition. One night, at the mercy of two men and my mother’s medical bills would be paid and my future would be set. But was that enough? I’d agreed to give it some thought, agreed to allow them to set their meeting place, in public of course, but that didn’t mean I was entirely safe. Anything could happen.
I walked down the block, allowing the gentle breeze to wrap me up in its warm caress, the sun to beat down on me as I made my way to my home. And once I got home, it clicked for me. Before, my mother was wiling to give up my body to fix her issues, to save her from her greed. Now, I had the chance to use my body to do something more. To gain freedom. I felt the world pressing in on me, felt the breathes against my neck as I was hunted down. My boss had been a godsend to me, allowing me to work off the books to keep the wrong people from discovering where I was. But it hadn’t been enough. I felt death creeping in on me, ready to wrap me in its cold embrace every day I ventured outside of my home. My mother had been taken into the hospital under a false name but soon enough, the monsters that lurked in the dark would find me. I needed to move. I needed to create miles between me and those demons and the money offered me would do just that. It was enough to change me and my mother’s identities, to move to a small town where no one would find us as I built a life for myself. To ensure her safety.
One night could change all of that for me and I was willing to sacrifice anything to make it so.
3
Vincent
Tonight was the night and holy fuck did the thought of finally having June with us have my cock hard. I didn’t know whether to scream, laugh, or jerk myself off as I thought of all the delicious ways I’d play with her once she was finally ours. But I settled for neither. After all, we had a situation far more pressing to deal with beforehand. A situation that would end in blood.
A smile curved my lips as I thought about showering myself in the blood of the man who thought it a good idea to touch what didn’t belong to him. I could already feel the sticky warm feel of it coating my hands, splattering across my face as I dug my knife into his throat. I wondered if I should show up to our date with it, a mark of honor for defending her honor. Maybe she’d fuck me, allow my blood-stained hands to slide across her soft skin, leaving trails of it on her smooth flesh as I buried my cock inside her. I quickly shook that thought away. No, the little mouse probably wouldn’t want to be tainted with even a piece of that bastard after all he’d put her through and I couldn’t blame her.
Victor guided the car into the parking lot of Marcia’s before cutting the engine. Desire raked its claws over me as thoughts of Benji pleading for his life as I toyed with him came flooding into my mind. I loved the game. He’d beg and cry with snot running from his nose and tears flooding his fat cheeks, bringing up every single thing he could to get us to back off. He’d offer anything, though we all knew he had nothing to offer. His greed turned what used to be a respectable diner into filth I wouldn’t even allow my worst enemies to dine at. And were it not for the drugs and prostitutes he’d dealt on the side, the place would have been shut down years ago.
We stepped through the glass doors, a buzzer announcing our entrance as I pushed through the dining area without a care in the world. Victor was all business, his poker face firmly in place, but me, I was trembling with excitement. For Benji’s slight, I was granted permission to play, and I couldn’t fucking wait.
I patted the duffle bag I carried in with me. It held all sorts of tools I planned to use on him and I was particularly interested in the drill. I’ve always wondered how deep I’d need to drill into someone before they pissed and shit in their pants and today, I’d find out.
Victor passed me a glare that told me to keep myself in line, at least until we were able to get a bit of privacy, but I couldn’t wait. Not when the smell of dirty grease and body odor assaulted my nose, and the grime collecting on the walls made me feel sick to my stomach. How anyone could eat in such a disgusting establishment, I wasn’t sure. But I did know most of the men seated at their tables hadn’t come for the food. They’d come for the number 1 special - Fifty dollars for a greasy burger with a side of head, the number 2 special - one hundred dollars for a side salad with a side of cocaine and cunt, or the number 3 special - one grand for your choice of any drug along with a willing participant to act out all your darkest desires. From my understanding, the participants weren’t always so willing and that alone was enough to make me want to kill the bastard. Lucky for him, Benji paid my father a hefty price to keep his establishment open, and we’d allowed it to continue. That was until he’d set his sights on the wrong waitress.
Is it wrong to say I was giddy as the diners rushed to finish their meals and vacate the building once they realized who me and my brother were? If it is, I don’t give a fuck. I was giddy as a schoolgirl waiting for her crush to ask her to prom as they all scurried to get out of the door, leaving their half-eaten meals behind. At least we saved them from food poisoning.
“Why are you leaving? Where are you going?” Benji said, slipping from the kitchen and marching into the dining area.
The moment his eyes met us, he trembled. He knew what our presence meant. Victor and I only showed up when something was wrong, when someone needed to be dealt with, and he knew he was in danger.
“What can I do for you boys?” he asked, though I knew the real question behind those words. He wanted to know what he did wrong, and were we sent by my father to fix a problem. Only he didn’t know our father had nothing to do with our presence. Our father would kill us if he knew what we’d planned to do, but Benji didn’t need to know that. “I’ve paid my due on time every month. Where is your father? I want to speak to him. Now.”
“I’ll call him for you,” I giggled. I seriously fucking giggled. Cupping my hands around my lips, I called out. “Father. Oh, father.”
Benji opened his mouth to speak but I put a finger to my lips to silence him, cupping my hand around my ear as if listening for our father’s response.
“Oh shit on a stick. Unfortunately, he’s not available to accept your call, but I’m sure if you leave your name and a brief message, he’ll call you as soon as he’s available.”
A hysterical laugh ripped from my throat and he cringed from the sound of it. The action made my dick hard, his fear eliciting a groan of desire. As Victor would say, my brain was wired wrong. The thought of suffering shouldn’t make me hard, but it did. And I didn’t give a single shit about it.
Victor just stood there, his suit impeccable as he watched our exchange. There was a slight grimace on his face as he watched us, but otherwise none of it concerned him. He was happy to let me play my game when normally he would have stepped in by now, but I knew his motivation. He was just as captivated by June as I was and Benji had made a grave mistake. He’d touched our girl. For that alone, his hands should have been severed from his body, but he’d gone a step further. He’d terrified her, pressed his will against her, until she’d fled.
Stealing from her had been bad enough. We’d known about him taking her tips for the smallest slights, leaving her with crumbs in hopes she’d turn to him and give him what he wanted. She never did. Our little mouse was too clever. Instead, she’d hidden most of her tips away, only giving him enough to satisfy him. The rest went to her crackwhore of a mother’s medical expenses. We’ll cross that bridge when it’s time. But for now, Benji owed us blood and I aimed to collect.
Victor uncuffed the sleeves of his jacket, rolling them up his arms.
“Father has nothing to do with why we’re here today, Benji.” He was calm and collected, a far cry from the crazy I pressed on the man. We were th
e perfect team. Sanity versus crazy, both qualities no one could surpass the moment you brought them together. “But you see? There is one rule in our partnership that should never be challenged. Respect us and what we hold dear, and pay your toll. You’ve paid your toll. So where do you think you’ve gone wrong?”
He flashed Benji smile that was as cold as Benji’s corpse would be once I’m done with him. There was danger in his eyes as he regarded the old man, daring him to give the wrong answer. He would. I’m sure the poor fuck had no idea what mess he’d gotten himself into but he’d learn soon enough.
“I don’t know.” Benji’s eyes widened as he took a step back, raising his hands to us in surrender.
Fuck this dude. I was tired of playing nice. In one fluid motion, I grabbed a knife from my hip and stabbed his hand. Blood spattered onto me and my body shook from the impact of it. If I could draw out my cock right then, I’d be fisting it in my hand. Our little mouse wouldn’t like me tainting this disgusting waste of space with my semen, but I could piss on him at least.
He screamed, a terrified shrill that escaped his lips as he curled his hand into a fish and nursed it against his chest. His other hand cradled it, as if that would ease the pain.
“Fuck,” he screamed again, his eyes wide. “What did I do? I’ll make it right. I swear.”
“You touched our girl,” Victor said simply, a smirk spreading across his lips. His dark eyes danced with violence, the same violence I craved.
“What are you talking about? I haven’t…”
“June,” Victor said with the same monotone inflection.
Benji’s eyes lit up at the name. “That skank?”
My well placed stab to his thigh had him falling to his knees. Another scream tore from his throat as he pressed a hand against the wound to keep himself from bleeding out. Poor guy. If he only knew what I had in store for him. He probably would have been better off bleeding out on the floor. It would be a nicer death.