by Demi Vice
Was this a bluff or did he actually know?
“Okay…” I spoke grimly, crossed my arms and looked into Emilio’s mint eyes. “Tell me what you know?”
“Everything. From age fifteen—what you did in my hotel—to age twenty-six when you went to prison. I know what Wallace did and what you did to save him. The only reason I even let Wallace buy this place under your name is that he told me you were on his list. His most trusted list. He trusts you more than his own son, and I’ve heard only good things about you, Jack. And…” Emilio paused and walked further away from his grandkids so that they wouldn’t hear us. “I wanted to tell you that I read your file when you were on the market.”
My eyes went wide. Holy fucking shit. Emilio wasn't lying about knowing everything.
“What? Did you really think I didn’t know who you were? The infamous Jack of all Trades?” Emilio’s eyes shook as he spoke to me in a crystal-clear voice. He made sure I understood what he was about to say next. “I’m warning you right now, Jack. If you take up any jobs without my permission while you’re living in my hotel. You’re out on the streets. I’ve had my hotel clean for years, and I plan to keep it that way.”
Emilio raised his eyebrows, layering his wrinkles on his forehead.
“If you know everything about me, then you know I’m retired, Emilio.” I gave him my cockiest grin I could pull on.
“You’re young. You’ll get bored, and when you do, I have a special job for you.”
“Yeah, I don’t fucking think so.” I chuckled, thumbing my nose.
“Listen, I have men for the jobs you used to pull. Professional men. Knights. And I am happy to tell you; I’m not a hated man. I rarely use my Knights for what they’re meant for. I use them more as trained bodyguards. So, what I want from you, Jack, is a glorified babysitter,” Emilio said, clearing his throat. “I can promise you that you won’t end up in prison or jail under my roof.”
I said nothing. I let Emilio talk, even though my mind was a firm ‘fuck no.’ Because when I meant retired, I meant retired from it all.
No job.
No worry.
No nothing.
“You’ll help me around the hotel a few times, but mostly you’ll look after them.” Emilio pointed at his grandkids. Sebastian was trying to climb the mini tree in the corner but thankfully it was bolted to the ground, and Savannah was staring at us with her split eyes and arms crossed.
“You trust me with your grandkids?” I cocked an eyebrow. “Are you sure about that, Emilio? If you know who I am then you know I can paint a room red. You know I can smile through a job with no mercy. And you know I can clean up as if nothing ever happened. But you trust me with your grandkids? The heirs to the Bayne fortune?” I spoke grimly, doing my best to intimidate the old man. But it didn’t work.
“Please.” Emilio scoffed and laughed. “I did all my research, Jack. I’ve not only read your file, but I paid extra to read the transcripts, see the videos, and hear your rants about your one unbreakable rule. You would never hurt a woman or child, no matter how great the pay was, and you’ve had some expensive offers, Jack.”
I inhaled deeply, looking at Savannah who was still staring at us with her mint and gold eyes. And Sebastian, on the other hand, could give two shits about us. He was still trying to climb the tree, getting dirt everywhere.
I still can’t believe I want two of those little shits.
“You don’t have my list, Emilio. We both know that. I had the only copy, but something tells me you don’t need my list to blackmail me.”
Emilio laughed.
“I don’t trust easy, Jack. I hate nannies, and I despise babysitters. Your job will be simple and straightforward. Anytime me or my wife, or their parents are too busy to care for my grandkids. You come in the picture. And sometimes, you will help me around when I need it, but mostly I want you as a glorified babysitter.” He paused. “This isn’t blackmail Jack. I respect you. A lot. There aren’t many men like you. In fact, I don’t think there is anyone like you. I know what you’ve done to hundreds of men, yet, I trust you with my family. My true wealth and reason for living.”
If I weren’t so tense, I would’ve probably blushed from Emilio’s compliment. It was like God himself telling you that you’re perfect. But I already knew that.
“You make quite the offer, Emilio, but honestly, I don’t trust you. You might know everything about me, but I know jack shit about you outside of magazines and newspapers.”
Emilio nodded, respecting my answer. “Seems like something we can easily fix.” He smirked.
“How about this. You give me, hmmm—five percent of your shares to The Chicago Bayne Hotel, and I’ll think about it,” I said, my eyebrow caught in a hook.
Emilio let out a hearty laugh. Even though he owned the most successful hotels in Chicago, California, and New York and was so filthy rich that he made Tony Stark look poor in comparison, Emilio Bayne was cheap. He would’ve never agreed to five percent which means I was never going to think about it.
“Listen, Emilio, as tempting as it all sounds I want my own damn life. Even if you can promise me, I’ll be fine with no jail or prison time, and it’s just a babysitting job. It doesn’t matter. I’m retired from it all. No job, unless I’m the boss. I plan to have my own life with a wife, kids—”
I stopped when I saw Savannah coming toward us before Emilio told her in Italian to go back to her brother.
I continued. “When I have it all. I’m not risking anything. As for taking up jobs without your permission?” I shook my head. “The closest thing I’ll get to breaking the law is hiring someone to make a custom strain of weed for me or urinating in public.” I chuckled.
Yeah, you bet that was going to be the most illegal things I’ll end up doing. Oh, and having sex in public, but I wasn’t going to tell Emilio that.
“I hope so, kid.” Emilio smiled, his fake teeth all straight and pearly white. “I like you. You remind me of a young Emilio before he got his shit together.”
“Good thing all my shit’s together and wrapped inside a pretty little box with a hot pink bow.”
Emilio laughed and slapped my shoulder, leaving it there. “I promise, Jack. You won’t end up where you did when Wallace fucked up. I’m not that short-tempered, nor would I ever have a mistress. I love my Rocky too much.” He squeezed my shoulder and laughed. “Enjoy the retired life, kid. You deserve it. But you’ll get bored of it like I did and when you do…” Emilio sang, letting his words fade in the air. “Oh, as for making your own strain of weed? Let's talk about that over lunch sometime next week or two. I know a guy.” Emilio winked.
A laugh escaped my lungs because he was dead serious.
That was the end of our meeting, but it wasn’t going to be the last time I saw Emilio. The only reason he wanted me was because of my popular recommendation from Wallace and the proof he had on me. I was loyal and trustworthy, but selfish. I wanted what I’d dreamt of for eighteen years, and after I let my obsession and curiosity fade with Ahri. I was going to have it all.
I spent the rest of my afternoon pulling the standard schedule I had at Tavernville which consisted of working out, cooking, eating, and trying to find anything on Link. I found nothing.
When my eyes were sore from reading online, I took some pictures of Lake Michigan and the Sears Tower (if you call it the Willis Tower you aren’t a true Chicagoan). When I went back to my pictures, I found Ahri. I got horny after that. Really. Fucking. Horny. I jacked off, and now I’m here in an Uber at two thirty in the morning.
I looked at the Uber app. I still had thirty minutes left of this painfully dull ride. It took every fiber in my body to stay awake from my shitty sleep schedule. I don’t know how Ahri did it. Or how I used to do it.
My days were packed and even through all that Ahri was on my mind every fucking second. Sure, most of the time she was naked, pressed against every single surface in every single position in my penthouse, screaming my name, but other time
s, she was just on my mind. Standing in the emptiness of my quiet mind, giving me that sexy bitch face or talking to me with her natural high levels of sarcasm.
I found myself mindlessly going into my phone to see her again. I couldn't even tell you how many times I looked at the image of Ahri in her sunshine yellow dress, sitting on the wooden cart behind the alley at Maddy’s diner. She looked so small, unwanted, as if she had been photoshopped in the picture.
I missed her more than I thought I would, but I convinced myself I was only lonely. I also missed Fidget, Link, and Leo, my tattoo artist back in Boston, so it wasn't a huge deal to miss Ahri. I was just lonely. A heavy sigh escaped my lungs as I went into my phone and found the picture of Ahri behind the diner.
I wanted to take Ahri to my penthouse. Fuck her on the couch, on my bed, and on the window as we overlooked Lake Michigan until her tits left a smudge on my window. I wanted that and more. Even the simple things. Watching her breath as she either stood in my living room or laid in my bed, but I knew that could never happen. Not unless I told her everything from start to finish.
I swallowed.
There was a small part of me that wanted to tell Ahri the truth. Where I had been the past seven years, who I knew and what I knew, but that wouldn’t lead to anything good.
Abso-fucking-lutely no good.
I slid the image to the next picture. A photo I transferred from my camera. It was of Ahri's face when she was sleeping. Her lips slightly parted, her cheek resting on her arm, squishing her cheek, and her lips naturally sad. But she wasn’t, she was at peace.
Do I miss her that much?
Or was it my mind playing tricks on me?
I hadn’t been with a woman in seven years, and it did some real damage to my mental health. I never got a chill, I never missed a woman, and I never thought about them in my free time unless they were naked, and my hand was stroking my cock. Usually at this point, about almost a week in, my obsession started to fade, but I wasn’t getting that from Ahri.
Mmmm? It’s probably because I was curious about the letter.
I stared at Ahri’s photo for too long, and that’s when I forced myself to close my phone. I rested it on my chest and looked up at the car roof as I sneaked a peek of the Uber driver looking at me in the rearview mirror.
“What?” I growled.
“You just seem like you had a rough day, man.”
I sat up, rested my elbows on the driver and passenger seat, and leaned in the middle gap, looking dead ahead. I exhaled deeply and looked at the man who was nervous that I was so close to him.
“Have you ever fucked yourself so hard you think to yourself. ‘Well, fuck it. I got this far why don’t I keep going—keeping digging?’”
“Yea. That’s usually what runs through my mind when I have a girl on the side, and they start finding out about each other.” He laughed. Pig. “What, you got the main girl at The Bayne and a side chick at Birch Park?” The Uber driver nudged his head at his phone. The time blinked twenty-five minutes, but it couldn't come fast enough.
I fell back, the air in my lungs escaping out of my body. “Yeah, something like that.” I sighed, crossing my arms and looking at my phone.
“If I were you, I would choose The Bayne girl.”
I let out a dry ‘ha,’ and that’s when my phone vibrated.
BabyGirl: Can I have your cock daddjmtu
BabyGirl: ajdeiasds
BabyGirl: wtuvqrgvtagtgbdf
I laughed, and I was about to reply until I got a readable text.
BabyGirl: Come to Diablo’s
AHRI
“What? Are you trying to get shitfaced tonight?” Gomez handed me another Blue Moon as I took a puff of my cigarette.
“No, tipsy-drunk.”
“Why?”
“Life. The bad parts,” I mumbled.
I took a long sip of my beer knowing very well that on my Flamin’ Hot Cheetos and Dove ice cream bar diet was not going to help absorb much of the alcohol. Hell, if I cared. I’d only gotten tipsy-drunk once this year. I can afford a second time.
“Wanna talk about it?” Gomez asked, sitting down across from me.
“Wanna play my music on the speakers?” I asked, sliding my iPod across the table.
Gomez smacked his lips and looked around the bar with only three people, two of which were already asleep. It was always slow on Sunday nights going into Monday mornings. I am certain I was going to get my way especially when Gomez wanted answers.
Gomez shook his head in defeat with a smug smile plastered across his face. Not before long my music, “Infinity” by Jaymes Young, which had been on perma loop, was flowing through the speakers. It was a nice break having my music played on the speakers instead of blasting in my ears. I needed this.
“You happy?” Gomez asked.
“Rarely, but I’ll take it.” I shrugged, looking at my iTunes library on Gomez’s old chunky laptop.
“Mierda, I forget how honest and depressing you get when you’re drunk.”
“I’m letting my true colors shine, Juan Jr.” I arched an eyebrow hidden under my bangs. He always hated when I called him by his first name. It sounded too informal, but he wasn’t my boss right now. I was off-duty.
I finished my cigarette but didn't start another. I’d already had five cigarettes today which was two over my weekly limit. I knew they were going to kill me, but I didn’t stop. To be honest, I didn’t like smoking or drinking. It just happened to be the easiest stress reliever on my tight schedule. I would’ve loved to run again as I had in high school, but that involved time I didn’t have.
“Let those colors shine a little less, Twinkie.” Gomez grunted and took a seat. “So, what’s up?”
“Mmmm—let’s see I almost failed my first online quiz, got another C on my weekly two-page paper assignment, and I’m barely passing my class.”
I focused on only the school part. Although, there was a bigger part of why I needed my drink. My past caught up with me again, but like usual I repressed the memories and pain. What he did to me would never compare to what he had done to Aurora. So, I sucked it up and dealt with it.
I sighed and took another sip of beer.
I also missed Jack.
A lot.
I got a few texts from him here and there the past few days. I figured we wouldn't see each other with my schedule and since he was away with friends. But I missed the sex. The relaxing, stress relief sex that left me untighten for an hour or two, or while I slept. I missed that, not him.
Liar.
I’d eaten Jack’s leftovers, drank some of his pineapple juice, and slept in his insanely comfortable bed as I watched a little TV. Whenever I had time to sleep, I slept in Jack’s bed. He had no door, and so, I let myself in.
I’d be lying if I said I didn’t feel a little lonely. I only met the guy about a week ago, but Jack was a character. His attitude, personality, cocky smile, his body. Everything about him left a mark on me. He’d imprinted himself on my mind, and I hated myself for thinking about him whenever I had any empty headspace.
I missed him more than I should have.
I missed him like I missed Luke and Aurora. Like I had known him my whole life, and I hated that. He didn’t deserve it, but, like a thief, he stole my feelings from right underneath me.
I finished my beer in one last chug and let out a massive grunt. Crossing my arms, I looked at Gomez who was examining my behavior. My body started to register how much alcohol I had in my system, leaving it warm and tingling.
I liked having Jack around me. There was something about him that made me feel safe and protected. Even when I was sleeping, I wanted him near me so that I could sleep like a baby without a care in the world. Something I didn't have when I was younger. Something I desperately needed a few years ago.
Jack had invaded my mind, heart, and stomach. I got that special feeling only Jack could give me, and I’d dubbed it. The black butterflies. He made me feel like a school girl talking to h
er crush, butterflies fluttering around and knocking into each other like they were drunk. But at the same time, they were violent, causing twisters and chaos. They were wild, uncooperative, and troublesome which made sense. You couldn't have trouble without Jack. There was something off about him, but the good kind. Like when you knew something was wrong, but it feels so fucking right.
“Seems like the same problem you had last semester, but you ended up with a B- in the class.” Gomez reassured me while picking up my empty beer bottle.
It was my third beer of the night, and I was tipsy-drunk, which was my cute way of saying I’m drunk. My eyes fell to my messy booth, all my things twirling together.
My business management textbook, notebook, and chewed up pen stacked on top of each other. I should have worked on my homework, but like usual, I put it off until the very last minute. Future Ahri can deal with it. Plus, future Ahri hated school more than present Ahri, which meant she worked well under pressure.
Gomez’s chunky laptop was in front of me at an illegal music website. He didn’t use it anymore, so he’d let me commit my petty crimes which everyone and their mother had committed. Like my iPod, Gomez’s laptop was for my pleasure and sanity; I rarely did homework on it unless I fucked up my time management and had to use the brick to write my papers.
“I’ll figure it out. I always figure it out,” I said, my words turning into one long sentence. “Okay, now leave me alone and let me find new music.” I waved my hand, sending Gomez away.
He shrugged. “Okay, chica. I’ll get you some water.” Gomez grunted as he stood up and headed over to the bar.
I scavenged through my phone and without even thinking, I texted Gomez what I was thinking, as tipsy Ahri always did. I looked at Gomez, waiting for him to read my text, but he was too busy waking up one of the local drunks.
I went over to Jack’s number and smiled. Even his number was sexy with a sixty-nine inside of it. I bit my lip and started to write my little text until I heard Gomez yell out my name.
My full name.
“Ahrianna Naomi Lore!”