Jealous

by Lena Little

  I can’t believe what I’m hearing, and as someone who grew up considerably at risk for this kind of thing exactly, my heart melts that there are big, strong men out there still who don’t take advantage of their size but use it to protect others instead.

  “So the second day after I threaten him I get S.W.A.T.ed. Yeah, a whole fucking S.W.A.T team shows up at my house out of the blue and finds heroin in my place. Heroin that he must have had planted there when I was out because there’s no fucking way anyone else would have the balls, or stupidly, to so much as try it, let alone pull it off.”

  This is not what I was expecting him to reveal…at all.

  “So the cops want names. Apparently, they’re trained well enough to know I’m not stupid enough to take that shit, and the litany of drug tests they ran me through obviously proved it to them as well.

  “But here’s the thing. No matter how shitty the prick that deals in underground business and even shiny emeralds out of Colombia have an underground element to them, and I’m not talking about anything cocaine related, the fact of the matter is…I. Don’t. Snitch. I handle my problems like a man. Face to face with words or warnings. If that doesn’t work I move to fists and firepower. Catch my drift?”

  I nod.

  “But there was no way to do that while I was being detained. But, somehow, one day I’m in the detention facility and a quote unquote ‘crazy guy’ breaks in and starts shooting up the place. Here’s where it gets ugly. That crazy guy is actually underage. So his record gets expunged, but being someone who can get to the bottom of things I track this shithead down. His last name is Angel. Kind of a unique name right? Well, I dig some more and find out his real last name is Angelino. That’s the name on his birth certificate…in Sicily. So I dig some more. Have someone get in contact with his biological mother, who luckily is pissed at the man who fathered the child because he doesn’t even acknowledge her existence. But, the boy of course longs to know who his father is, longs for that connection, and the father uses that opportunity, plus the fact the boy is young and full of piss, vinegar, and testosterone, and flies him over to the states and brings him into a little bit of the bad boy life, or at least this poor kid’s perceived version of it from films like The Godfather.”

  “So what happened to the boy?”

  “Nothing, because he was underage and somehow was able to walk with some sort of counseling program and whatever other bullshit offer they made him.”

  “So you’ve never tried to track him down?”

  “I didn’t have to. He tracked you down.”

  “What?”

  “Jake Adams, your class partner. The second name change in less than half a decade. The minute I saw the little shit in the parking lot I knew who it was, and he most certainly knew who I was too. But I wasn’t about to deal with him with you standing right there.”

  “I could have turned my head.”

  “But I doubt he was working alone. Surely there were more guys right there watching the whole thing go down, ready to take me out. That’s why I just gave him a friendly warning to stay the fuck away.”

  “That’s what you call friendly?”

  “You’ve seen how I operate. There’s no middle ground.”

  “I…I owe you an apology. I didn’t know.”

  “You owe me nothing. As a man, it’s my job to protect you and not bother you with the specifics of why I’m doing it. Your job is to enjoy life with a smile on your face at all times and not a worry in the world. Worries are for me to flesh out before they become problems, and eliminate them in advance of any trouble.”

  “So you’re planning on…”

  “Like I said. Those things are for me to worry about. Let’s let it go and you just give me a big smile and know I’ve got everything under control.”

  I’m speechless. My entire body is just still. I’m not in shock per se, but I definitely don’t feel like I’m lying in a hammock on a beach in Puerto Vallarta either, sipping on a margarita. I feel the extremes, but somehow they balance me out into this really grey area. And for some reason, Julian’s sharing makes me feel like sharing. But first, I want more answers because I have no idea when he’s going to open up again.

  “How is the emerald business shady?”

  “You’re still paying off cops, customs officials, employees who try and steal…stuff like that. We tried to run it above board for a long time, but it just didn’t work. Customs officials want fake taxes, even though we declare exactly what we’re bringing in and are ready and willing to pay those taxes. Local cops try to shut our organization down, saying we don’t have the business permits which are printed in plain view. Employees try to recreate our business model or just steal product outright.”

  “So you’re not exactly the baddest of bad guys?”

  “I deal with guys that are lower than a snake’s belly, so sometimes I have to get in the weeds and play their games. Sometimes becoming more, more often than not the longer I stay alive, especially on the inside.”

  “You mean prison?”

  “Exactly. Don Neto’s first hit backfired so he tried again more than a few times. Sleeping with one eye open becomes a real thing, but I’m not about to do it much longer. We’re getting out of here, me and you. Going someplace and starting fresh.”

  “What makes you think I want to do that?”

  “I may have fallen in love with you at first sight, and didn’t give a damn what was in your past, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t check it just to know.”

  “You spied on me!”

  “It’s called intel in the circles I run in, and yes…I know you haven’t had it easy in life.”

  “I don’t need any handouts or anyone feeling sorry for me.”

  “Good, because if you were that kind of girl we wouldn’t have gotten this far in the first place. I believe in honor, courage, and commitment…not just to oneself but to the relationship. And I need a woman who’s faced some adversity and overcome, not some Instagram influencer whose plane ticket from Bali to the Bahamas gets canceled and she throws a first-world shit fit about how the world is out to get her and how life is so tough. I don’t wish difficult lives on people, but I sure as hell respect those that have had them and found ways to overcome them.”

  “Because you can relate.”

  “Exactly, because we’re one in the same, me and you.”

  “What makes you so sure of that?”

  “Takes one to know one.”

  “What am I thinking right now then?” Almost on cue, my stomach growls.

  Julian just cocks his head to the side as if to say ‘checkmate’, and I can’t help but giggle. “What are you hungry for, Beautiful?”

  “I saw a Subway a few blocks down the other day. I’d really like to get my hands on a footlong meatball sub if possible.”

  “I got good news. There’s an authentic Italian sandwich place half the distance as Subway. We can walk. Get out of the house for a second. The air is thick in here after our little talk.”

  “True, but I need to lie down after everything that’s happened this morning. My head’s still spinning.”

  “I want you by my side. I don’t want you out of my sight until we’re on the road putting this place, this entire country, in the rearview. And even then I’m always going to be watching over you.”

  “What about college?”

  “Pretty sure they have those where we’re going.”

  I slap him on the arm and we both laugh. “I just need some space for a few minutes to process everything.”

  “You put your address on any forms you gave the school?”

  “Just the P.O. Box like you told me.”

  “And you used the burner phone number?”

  “Which sounded crazy paranoid at the time but now I can only say thank you.”

  “You don’t need to thank me. Ever. Although you can show your appreciation on your back later.”

  “Okay, enough,” I tease, slapping his arm once agai
n. He’s so big and thick I have no clue how I’d ever be able to do anything physically to him if I even tried. “Wait? What about your shoulder?”

  “Government doc took the bullet out and put a plate in there. I can remove it next year if I want.”

  “Does it set off alarms at airports?”

  “We’re going to find out tonight.”

  “Where are we going?” I beg, but he doesn’t budge. “Pleeeeease?” Still nothing. “Daddy!”

  “This is the one time that’s not going to work. Now put on a sweater and let’s go get you that sandwich.”

  “It’s hot outside,” I argue.

  “And you’re as hot as they come and I’m not letting another man look at what’s mine. Make it a turtleneck while you’re at it.”

  “Very funny.”

  I go for a light blouse that he bought me after we swung by my old place for the last time yesterday and I emptied out my single dresser and got my deposit back.

  But as soon as I have the sweater on I plop down on the bed. “I really need to just relax a second. Please?” I try one last time, moving in closer and cupping his balls with one hand as I slide my head up and underneath the bottom of his T-shirt, my head hidden from view, yet pressed against his chest.

  “You’re acting like a little kid,” he laughs.

  “You mean like this,” I add, stepping up onto his toes. “But the correct terminology is I’m acting like your Little Girl. And if Daddy is nice then I’ll be ready and waiting when you get back. And I’ll be in my naughty mode too.”

  “You drive a hard bargain.”

  “Pushover,” I tease, pulling my head out from underneath his shirt and running to the corner of the room before he can spank me.

  “One authentic Italian footlong meatball sub coming up in less than fifteen minutes, or your money back.”

  “Wait? I have to pay?”

  “You’re gonna pay with that pussy of yours…later.”

  “Gladly.”

  He gives me a wink and then steps out the door. Not ten seconds pass by until I hear him bark, “Why isn’t the door locked behind me yet?”

  “Coming!” I run to the door and lock both the doorknob button and the deadbolt.

  “Security chain too.”

  “Okay, okay!” I do as I’m told and then hear his motorcycle fire up, the engine making the glass shake and my panties moisten instantly.

  “That’s my one of a kind man,” I say to myself. “My Daddy. My everything.”

  The man who’s protecting me and keeping me safe even when I don’t know it. And not asking for any recognition or so much as a thanks in return.

  Now that’s a real man. And one who’s going to get one heck of a thank you when he gets back.

  I run to the bathroom and grab my makeup, ready to try and make myself into the best devil I can in the next fifteen minutes. Because when Daddy gets back I’m going to be his naughty little girl.

  Before I even have my mascara applied I hear the rumble of his motorcycle and a second later he says, “Forgot my wallet,” in the most frustrated tone I’ve ever heard from him. It’s so odd it almost doesn’t even sound like him, but obviously, it is. Who else has that trademark Ducati motorcycle sound that gets my heart pumping and makes me forget everything else in this world as it announces my Julian is near?

  “Coming,” I yell, racing to the door and unlocking the series of locks. But just as soon as I slide the chain to the side and yank the door open, ready to jump up in his arms my entire body freezes.

  “Nice to see you again, Giulia,” Don Neto says, holding a pistol off the side of his hip, pointing it right at me.

  “I—Julian’s will be here any second!” I announce.

  “Keep your voice down, bitch,” he warns, and instantly Jake darts out from behind him and wraps my mouth in duct tape before throwing a black bag over my head.

  9

  Julian

  I fire up my motorcycle and take off for the apartment, the smell of my princess’s meatball sub in the air despite my speed. I move quickly to get back home. I don’t like leaving her alone, ever. A lot of the reason why has to do with protection, but an equally large share is just the simple fact that I miss her.

  I miss having her close. I miss seeing her smile. I miss making her smile. I feel like a dad who knows his firstborn is about to take its first steps and he wants to be there to witness it. Giulia is feisty and fun all in the same vein, and I want to spend every minute with her. I don’t want to miss a thing.

  There’s also something I need to tell her. Something I have to give her in addition to her late lunch. Something much more important in the grand scheme of things. A smile tears at the corner of my lips and I hit the throttle, even more, needing to get back to my woman. But as I roll up to our building I see something that strikes me as off. There’s a motorcycle with nearly the same horsepower as mine parked out front…which means it would somewhat sound like mine to the untrained ear.

  Quickly I process the situation, knowing I can’t be a bull in a China shop right now. That’s exactly the wrong thing. I cut the gas and glide to a stop behind a van, moving quickly along the wall toward the apartment.

  And that’s when I hear it. The voices. Their voices.

  My heart races and I do what comes naturally, logic over emotion be damned.

  Nobody takes my Little Girl from me. Nobody.

  10

  Giulia

  “You really thought you were going to just walk away with that asshole, didn’t you?”

  I recognize the voice immediately, despite the bag over my head. Don Neto.

  “Well, you’re going away all right…deep down into the bottom of the lake as soon as the man of the hour arrives. If you don’t fight too much we might even tie you to the same cinder block.”

  “Not until I beat the shit out of him first for what he did to me,” Jake adds.

  “We’ll have plenty of time to have all kinds of fun before we’re tired of playing with them. See, right now we’re the cats and you’re the caught mice. You’re just entertainment until your bodies give out or we get bored. Whichever comes first.”

  “Julian’s gonna find you and kill you.”

  Don Neto laughs. “Oh, sweetheart, we're counting on him finding us. I mean, we’re not exactly hiding. He’ll be here soon to join you. But I can assure you we’ll be the ones killing him…and you, in short order.”

  The hunger pains that I had are entirely gone now. I feel my stomach heave and the taste of bile in my mouth.

  “Don’t go tossing your cookies on me now. It’s a long drive to the lake and that hood’s not coming off before we get there. Can’t have anybody seeing you. Julian doesn’t like that…right?”

  Don Neto laughs hysterically in a way that would make the evil villain character in most Hollywood movies look comical.

  “You’re not going to get away with this!” I spit.

  “Oh really? Because convicted felons who have just been released from prison are a high priority for cops, right? They’re going to bring out the entire police force to look for a missing piece of scum of society. Oh, wait…they only did that when I S.W.A.T.ed him, which got him in this mess in the first place.”

  Another laugh and I try and figure out a way to get out of this, but with my hands tied and my vision cut off, I don’t have a ton of options. I try moving my wrists against the chair, but there’s no way the wood is going to saw through the rope anytime soon.

  “Look at her,” Don Neto says. “She’s using tactics you’d see Bugs Bunny use on Wile E. Coyote.” He pauses before continuing. “That’s the thing about gambling, Giulia. You have to learn to bet on the winners, and you picked a loser. And I don’t like losing, especially to losers…which is why I’m going to make sure I win in the end…and the two of you lose. Permanently.”

  “We can work something out,” I plead, although not having any clue what that might be nor do I have any desire to give this man anything. My
voice cracks and the tears really start to fall.

  “Keep begging. It makes me so fucking hard, sweet tits. You know…I never did actually get to see them, and seeing that we’ve got some time until Julian returns, how about I just take a look right now? Huh? How does that sound?”

  I feel a hand grab the bottom of my shirt and begin to lift it.

  “I want to see this too,” says Jake, and I hear his footsteps come closer.

  I feel nauseous and ready myself to lean forward and bite his hand, just waiting for it to get higher so I can actually reach it. My hands are tied in a way that makes my back ramrod straight, so I can’t bend forward that much.

  “Look at that tight little tummy,” Don Neto purrs.

  “Come on, dad. Get to the good parts,” Jake urges.

  In a blur of sounds, I hear the security chain on the door snap and the wood slam against the door and the hinges rip, wood splintering.

  “This is the best fucking part, assholes,” the voice that I’d recognize anywhere calls out.

  Suddenly there’s the sound of bodies hitting the ground and grunting, kicking. Fists hitting flesh and an alarm in the distance, disorienting me and making me dizzy.

  “Julian!” I scream, trying to wiggle free from my chair to no avail. “Help!” I yell, hoping someone will hear us, but the sounds just continue.

  And then the sound of a single gunshot immediately followed by two more, and everything goes still before multiple boots are entering the house. I’m frantic, no clue what’s going on. “Julian, are you okay?”