by Bethany-Kris
Andino frowned. “I’ll see what I can do.”
“Good.”
Cross turned to leave.
Andino figured he owed the man some kind of warning. “Next time, don’t rush my office without knocking first. I was kind enough to stop Snaps today from reacting how he’s been trained—I will not be kind again.”
The man in the doorway nodded, but he was quick to leave after that. Andino didn’t really blame him.
It didn’t matter.
He had bigger problems.
“Pink!”
The enforcer from earlier popped his head in the office doorway thirty seconds after Cross had vacated, and gave Andino a cocked brow. “Yeah, boss?”
“Find out who the fuck was involved with confronting Cross Donati today, and let me know if even one of them was a man of mine.”
Pink cleared his throat. “I can do that.”
“Hurry it up—I’ve got business to handle.”
The enforcer disappeared, and Andino glared at the wall as he tried to relax in his chair. It didn’t work; he ended up folding his arms over his chest, and trying to ignore the building headache starting to throb in the base of his skull. He needed to keep Marcello men away from Cross Donati, at least until those guns got down to the Gulf, and also, keep Cross far away from the boss …
There was no way in hell Andino was going to let any of his guys go off half-cocked just because someone else was in a bad mood, and ruin the shit he was doing—they were not going to cause him those kinds of issues.
Not now.
Not ever.
Fuck what Dante thought.
“Nick,” Andino said, letting the bat in his hand swing back and forth like a pendulum. The enforcer’s gaze didn’t want to move away from the bat for even a second—smart man, really. “Let’s go over this again. What did you do, and why was it wrong?”
The enforcer swallowed hard, saying, “I d-don’t know.”
Andino sighed. “Wrong answer. Try again.”
“Cross. Cross Donati.”
“Getting warmer.”
Nick glanced away from the bat for a split second. “I just thought—he went after the boss, Andino. We were supposed to let that go unanswered?”
Andino tipped his head to the side, and pretended like he was actually considering the man’s words. “No, but you do come to me before you do something fucking stupid.”
The man blinked.
Andino smiled.
“See, you’re setting a dangerous precedent for me,” Andino murmured, crouching down so he was eye-level with the man tied to the chair in a warehouse where no one was going to hear the guy screaming once this really got started. “People already think I’m the fucking easy one, Nick. I won’t push back—I follow the rules. See the problem? You didn’t even think to come to me first, and ask if you could go after Cross.”
“But … but—”
“Do you know what that tells other men—or made men?” Andino asked.
“N-no.”
“It tells them that they don’t have to come to me for anything. Not a request, not for permission, and certainly not for business. That’s a fucking problem. You made a problem for me. You’re a problem. Get it now, you stupid fuck?”
Nick’s eyes went wide, but Andino’s point was made. Sure, a large part of this was making sure nobody messed in Andino’s business. Then, the guns he needed run would go off without a hitch, and with Dante still unaware that his Capo had used a man he hated to do it.
It was more than that, too.
Andino wasn’t going to be anybody’s pushover.
Not their punching bag.
Or their fucking doormat.
All it took in this life was one man stepping out of line to make it seem like the man above him was weak. Given his fucking status, and what was coming for Andino in this family, he couldn’t afford for him to be that kind of man to the rest of the organization.
John had said it.
Don’t let them control how you sit your ass down in that seat, or what you choose to do with it. They want a boss, then be a boss, Andino.
Andino had to start taking care of his own shit, and worrying less about the problems of others. It started here.
It started with this.
And any other fucker that thought to step in his way.
“I’m sorry,” Nick mumbled, “please—”
Godspeed to the men who plead.
Andino stood, and swung the bat.
Bones crunched.
A man screamed and begged.
Blood splattered.
Andino just kept swinging.
Let this be a fucking lesson.
One of many, he was sure.
Andino shrugged off the bloody, ruined dress shirt, and shoved it into the trash. All the while, Snaps passed his master by, and headed for his empty food bowl. Sitting by the bowl, the dog stared at Andino with big eyes.
Begging without actually begging.
“You can wait five more minutes,” he told Snaps.
Snaps’ ear flicked.
Andino laughed. “You’re fine.”
More big eyes.
More silent begging.
Everybody who had ever seen Snaps in action gave the dog a wide berth of space just because they didn’t want to be in his line of fire when he attacked. Andino, on the other hand, got to see his dog act like a giant baby because he thought he wasn’t going to get fed like he didn’t get fed every single fucking night.
“Five minutes,” he repeated to the dog.
Andino headed for the kitchen sink, and turned the taps on. Once the water was hot enough not to scald but still sting, he grabbed the bar of soap on the side, and got to work on washing away the dried blood on his hands and arms. Killing someone with a bat could be a messy business, but he figured it was worth it.
The lesson would be learned.
The water circling the drain faded from a rusty red to a light pink the longer Andino scrubbed. He was done with washing the proof of his crime away, and onto pulling the raw strips of meat prepacked for Snaps’ meals from the fridge when he heard the front door of his house click shut quietly.
Snaps didn’t react.
Andino knew then.
There was only one person Snaps didn’t alert for.
“Hey,” Haven said, strolling into Andino’s kitchen, and patting Snaps’ bobbing head as she passed him by to come to Andino first. She dropped her bag on the island counter, and then pulled Snaps’ bowls up from the floor to help Andino. He didn’t even have to ask, or explain what he was doing. She just jumped into his life to be there and help, for fuck’s sake. She wasn’t even supposed to be around—he should be keeping his fucking distance. And yet, he liked getting five minutes with her when he could manage it. He enjoyed having her show up at his house in the evenings when the day was done, and it was just them.
Two weeks of this, and he looked forward to it.
“Hey,” Andino said.
Wordlessly, Haven leaned over the counter, and pressed a kiss to Andino’s mouth. She gave him a grin, and a wink when she pulled away far too soon for his liking.
“Busy day?” she asked. “Because you’re not even fully dressed, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen you look disheveled.”
Andino laughed under his breath.
He killed a man today.
“You could say it was busy,” he replied.
Haven frowned. “Sorry.”
“You?”
“Took the day off, actually.”
She reached for her bag, and it was then that the bandage on her wrist caught Andino’s eye. He quickly finished up getting Snaps’ bowl of raw meat, steamed veggies, and gravy mixed up for the pup. He filled the second bowl with fresh water, set them on the floor, and washed his hands up for a second time as he’d been tearing apart raw meat.
“What’s that?” he asked.
Haven looked up from the phone she’d pulled out of the bag. “What?”
“On your wrist.”
“Oh.” A sly smile curved her lips. “A new tattoo.”
Andino chuckled. “You’re going to run out of room, Haven.”
“Never.”
Rounding the island, he reached for her wrist, and tugged her closer to him until her chest was pressed tightly to his. He flipped her wrist over at the same time he dropped a hard kiss to her mouth—fast, and not as fleeting as hers had been. No, he took the time to enjoy her kiss, and the way her tongue teased his in a way that made him wish her mouth was somewhere else on his body.
“Wanna see?” she asked when he pulled away.
“Is it something silly?”
She slapped his bare chest. “None of my tattoos are silly.”
“That’s fair.”
Haven glanced at the clock on the wall, and shrugged. “Yeah, I guess the bandage has been on long enough.”
She let him peel back that small, three inch by three inch bandage to find the new ink on her skin. Andino stilled from head to toe at the black and white image staring back at him from her inner wrist. His grip on her arm tightened instinctively the longer he stared at the tattoo, silence in his mind, though his heart …
Oh, there, it raced.
“Do you like it?” she asked.
Andino blinked. “It’s a whale.”
“Mmhmm.”
“A killer whale.”
Haven laughed softly. “Yeah.”
“An orca.”
He kept that firm hold on her, and refused to let go even as his gaze drifted between the small smile on her pink lips, and the tattoo on her wrist. There was no possible way she could know—no way she had any idea how he felt about something as silly and simple as killer whales.
No one knew.
No one but his mother and his father.
No one.
“I had a dream—I was on a boat, and I was whale watching,” Haven said, shrugging. “That’s never even been a thought in my head. I guess whales in dreams can mean different things. Something big in your life, or even something spiritual with your mind and heart.”
Andino swallowed hard. “Or that everything is going to be okay.”
Haven’s brow dipped. “Or that, yeah. How did you know—”
His throat tightened.
She couldn’t know.
There was no way …
“When I was a kid,” Andino said, “I watched a show about orcas, and according to my parents, I was obsessed after that. Nothing satisfied me unless it was whales. I did that sometimes; went from one thing to another in my interests, and they always just let me do whatever. The whales, though …”
“Hmm, what?”
“They stayed with me for a long time,” he admitted. “It was a couple of years before the child-like obsession waned, but even then … just come here.”
He turned fast, and pulled her along with him as he left the kitchen, and headed down the hallway. His office was downstairs, and although Haven had spent a couple of nights in his house, she’d never gone in there as far as he knew.
“Andino!”
Her laughter was high, and sweet.
His chest just ached.
His mind was chaotic.
She couldn’t know.
Was that supposed to be some kind of sign for him?
A whale?
Andino pushed the office door open, and flicked on the light. He glanced at Haven just in time to see her gaze land on the large painting behind his desk—a canvas that dominated the wall—of a killer whale in abstract form. He’d found it at a dealer once just shortly after he bought his house.
“Oh, wow,” Haven said, grinning.
“An Inuit artist did it,” Andino explained, walking further into his office with her trailing behind. He picked up a photo on the corner of his desk, and turned it around for her to see him and his father on a fishing boat, and in the water behind them, a small pod of orcas filled the picture. “And this trip with my dad … yeah.”
Haven took the picture from him, and looked it over with a deepening smile. “This is a sweet picture.”
“I was ecstatic.”
“I bet.”
Andino came closer as Haven set the photo back on the edge of his desk. “So, you saw a whale in a dream, did you?”
“It seemed important.”
Maybe it was.
More for him, than for her.
Who was he to say?
It was just a whale.
And she was just a woman.
“I take it you like the tattoo, then?” Haven asked teasingly, reaching for him again and circling her arms tightly around his neck. “Since it’s your favorite animal, and all.”
“I didn’t say whales were my favorite animal.”
“Oh, they aren’t?”
He cupped her face in his hands, and pressed a quick kiss to her grinning mouth. “No, they definitely are.”
But … she hadn’t known that. He was still trying to figure out what this was supposed to mean.
Andino didn’t believe in coincidences.
This life had taught him not to.
TEN
“Watch me, Mama!”
“I am, baby. I see you.” Valeria shook her head as Maria skipped across the monkey bars without ever missing a beat. “She’s going to make me go gray, Haven. Look how far she could fall.”
Yet, her friend stayed right there on the bench with Haven even when Maria spun around on the other side of the monkey bars, and then jumped to grab on and do it again. Valeria was good like that—despite her fears that her daughter might fall, she let Maria spread her wings and explore.
Like a child should.
“She’s not going to fall,” Haven said. “Don’t worry.”
“Easier said than done.”
The two women fell into a comfortable, easy silence as they watched Maria make friends with another little girl before the two children skipped off to the slides. Haven sipped on a latte they’d grabbed on the way to the playground while Valeria worked on peeling an apple with a pocketknife.
“I was thinking of taking her to see that princess movie tonight,” Valeria said. “You want to come?”
“Have plans, actually. Sorry.”
Valeria fake pouted. “Your loss.”
Haven laughed. “Is this the same princess movie she went and saw last week, too?”
Valeria shrugged. “Maybe it is, and maybe it isn’t.”
“Except it totally is.”
“Someday, you’ll have kids, and then you will understand the struggle of watching the same shit over and over again with no end in sight, simply because it makes them happy to do it. Today may not be that day, mind you, but someday, chica.”
Haven smirked. “Doubt it.”
“Oh, you will. We all learn.”
She wasn’t going to argue with her friend simply because Valeria wasn’t entirely wrong. Haven wanted kids—just not right now. She wasn’t ready to start thinking about all the things having a child would change in her life, really.
Maria was enough for her.
For now, at least.
Valeria leaned over a little on the bench to get closer to Haven as she whispered conspiratorially, “So, tell me about these plans of yours.”
Haven had to laugh at how interested her friend sounded. “Girl, you need to find yourself a man, or something. Get out, date … whatever.”
“But why?”
“Because I swear you’ve been living vicariously through me since we’ve been friends, and that’s just sad. Getting details from someone else isn’t nearly as fun as going out and getting the real thing for yourself, if you know what I mean. She’s old enough for you to leave her with me to babysit while you go out and have a fun night. No one is going to think less of you just because you want to have—”
“It’s not that,” Valeria interjected quickly. “I just … don’t have time, Haven.”
“That’s a lie. You’ve got a great boss
who works around whatever schedule you need or ask for. She makes sure you get all kinds of time off, and whatever else you need. So …”
Valeria grinned. “You are a great boss.”
“See!”
“I really don’t have time, though,” her friend said. “And not because I can’t make time, but because I would rather not.”
Haven frowned, and looked over at her friend as Valeria sliced a piece off the apple in her hand. “I don’t follow.”
“I guess … it’s been just me and her for so long, you know what I mean? I try to be there to tuck her into bed every night, and at least wake her up in the morning to tell her to have a good day at school. And so what, just because I want to get laid, I should take time away from her, go out and find someone who might be able to give me a good time? And then what if I do find somebody, Haven, how do I tell her that it’s not going to be just me and her anymore? I don’t want her to resent me because—”
“She wouldn’t,” Haven said confidently. “Especially if you were happy, you know.”
“She might. She’s a kid, okay.”
“But not a stupid kid, or a vindictive one, Val.”
Valeria sighed. “No, I know. I just mean … maybe it’s not her at all, then. Maybe it’s me. Yeah, that sounds about right.”
“Again, I don’t follow.”
“Maybe it’s me that’s not ready for all of that mess, Haven. I’ve been worrying about taking care of her and making sure that she has all she needs for so long that I come second to the rest. It’s okay, though. I like it this way.”
Haven felt a pang in her chest, but she stayed quiet. She didn’t want to make her friend feel badly—she didn’t want to open her mouth, and say something that might hurt Valeria. Like the fact that being alone just because she was comfortable, or scared, was sad. Valeria deserved someone to make her happy the way she had worked so hard to make her daughter happy for so long.
And she did it alone.
“Also, her dad was the first and last man I was involved with,” Valeria added under her breath, “and that is enough of a reminder for me as to why I don’t want to get mixed up with the wrong kind of man again.”