Wasted (Dirty Boys of Chicago #1)

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Wasted (Dirty Boys of Chicago #1) Page 10

by Morgan Black


  She got up onto one of the barstools and put her face in her hands.

  “Your dad and your mom split up when you were just a baby. He was a drunken bastard that used to beat her and you on a regular basis. He was wasted all the time.”

  I shook my head, remembering him so clearly. “Maria had somehow escaped with you before things got worse than they were. She came to my father looking for work and protection. She knew that one day, he would come looking for her. An entire decade passed, and he never did. Then suddenly, one day, he showed up at the club, asking about you and her. I was there. I saw the whole thing. He was a mess. He took a swig out of a flask just to stand up and stop his body from shaking. He couldn't be trusted. My father turned him away. But he kept coming back. Your mom came to my father and asked him for help. She wanted round-the-clock surveillance, even on you at school. It was too much. I was seventeen. Almost a man. My initiation was supposed to be the following year, but when your mother was so afraid and I thought that he was going to hurt you, I took matters into my own hands. I went to my father and told him that I was going to kill your dad.” She lifted her head and her mouth dropped open a little, but I pressed on. “He approved, said it made me a good man. So I did it. I went to the motel that he was staying at and I put a bullet in his head. He didn't even try to fight me. He knew it was coming, and I think he wanted it to happen. Just be put out of his misery.”

  I walked over to her, but she pulled away, looking afraid. I had just solidified everything in her mind that told her that I was dangerous. I was the monster who had killed her father. The person that tore her family apart.

  “You know he had a friend. He was crazier than your dad was. He came into that office with a gun and killed three people, including your mother. He was taking revenge out on us. Farrah, we would've done anything to keep you safe after that night. And I'm still trying to make up for it. But this? Lying to me? It doesn’t make me feel like I made the right choice.”

  I was going to get hell for saying that, but I probably deserved it.

  “You didn't make the right choice? You killed my father! You couldn't have helped him? Got him into rehab? Maybe he could have changed! Didn't you and your family ever think of that? Did you even give him a chance?”

  Now the tears were really flowing. I wrapped my arms around her and she was sobbing into my chest, pounding her little fists on me. I knew she was hurting, and I knew that it was my fault. But in the end, I did it to protect her. And since she allowed me to keep my arms around her, I knew that deep down, she knew that. She knew that it was what was right.

  “I'm sorry. I'm sorry that I took him away from you. But I just didn't want you to get hurt! I never want to see you hurt. It kills me that I caused you this pain.”

  She pulled back and wiped her face, her skin red and blotchy from her tears. It looked like her face had been stained with her sadness.

  “I can't forgive you yet. But I understand why you did what you did. But I just can't forgive you yet.”

  “Then I will do everything to make sure that you do. Starting with your uncle. You make the call: what do you want me to do with him?”

  She sighed heavily. “Send him home. Back to Jersey. Make sure I don't ever have to see him again.”

  I nodded. “I'll make a call. What else can I do?”

  She shook her head. “I just need some time alone. I'm going for a walk, and when I get back, he needs to be gone.”

  I nodded. “Done. But we still need to talk about your deception. Your lies. While what I did was terrible, it was in order to protect you. What you did was out of spite. What of this is actually real?”

  She sighed. “Everything. Ramsey sent me here for information, but even that first night, I realized I never wanted to find anything. I had fallen for you the moment I got into your car. That night, the one night we spent at the club when our parents were out of town. I almost kissed you that night. I wanted to so badly. Ramsey turned my anger over my mother’s death against you, and I thought that hatred he developed in me could erase all those feelings I had for you. But it couldn’t, it never did. I tried to end it, you can even ask him. I was so afraid he would kill me.”

  She was a rat, but her heart was in the right place. And it was clear she was terrified of Ramsey. I had to forgive her. She was weak with years of anger and sadness. And those were caused by me. As angry as I was at her in that moment for deceiving me, I knew the anger wouldn’t last long. She would find her way underneath my skin again.

  She started to move away from me, but I caught her by the hand. “I want to keep you,” I said to her as honestly as possible. It hurt too much to watch her walk away from me.

  “I know.” She pulled her hand out of mine and walked toward the bedroom door. I prayed that it wouldn’t be the last time that I ever saw her.

  Twenty-Three

  Farrah

  Xavier removed Ramsey from the bedroom and I got out as quickly as possible.

  I needed an escape.

  I watched them in the living room as I exited the apartment in silence. Ramsey was just sitting on the floor, Xavier standing over him, a knife to his throat.

  “Aren’t you going to say goodbye?”

  I shot Ramsey a look over my shoulder. “No.”

  I slammed the door behind me. I ran down the stairs and onto the street, feeling the sun on my skin. I just needed to get away. I put on some of my old clothes, as they made me feel less attached to Xavier. Like for a moment he wasn't with me. I walked the streets, feeling free, but in other ways, I knew I was still trapped.

  How had Ramsey gotten in? I thought that Xavier could keep me safe. He promised me he always would, but what if he couldn't? Suddenly the sun didn't feel as warm on my skin, and a chill ran through my body. I needed to find someplace safe where I could sit for a while. I needed time to think. I walked a few more blocks, looking for a restaurant or a café I could dive into. Finally I came upon a small pub which looked dark and was covered with ivy. It was the perfect place where I could hide in a corner and no one would notice my tears.

  I pushed open the heavy door, and when I entered the dark pub, the smell of beer overwhelmed me. There was a long wooden bar on the side wall, and there were several small tables and booths. The walls were a dark wood color and the floor was made of stone. The place was practically empty, which didn’t surprise me, since it was a Sunday afternoon. There weren't any TVs hanging over the bar, just Irish themed symbols and posters. Obviously this wasn't a place for the sports crowd.

  I walked up to the bar and signaled the bartender to come my way. I sat down at one of the stools at the end. Hopefully no one would sit down next to me. I could drown my sadness in a pint alone.

  “What can I get for you?” an older gentleman asked me. He had a long, graying beard and a cap on his head. The thick Irish accent made me wonder if he owned the place.

  “Anything.”

  He gave me the once over. “Anything, huh? Are you here to celebrate something? Or to chase the demons away?”

  Demons. More demons than I would actually like to admit. “The latter. Give me something strong, please.”

  He simply nodded and wandered off. Within a couple minutes, he was back with a short glass of dark brown liquid and a large square ice cube.

  “This always helps to ease the pain. Take it slow.”

  I picked it up and sniffed it. I could feel it burn my throat without me even taking my first sip. He wasn't kidding; it was strong. I lifted the glass to my lips and took a small sip, letting the warm liquid flow through my body. The bartender gave me a small smile and walked away from me as I looked around the place. There were maybe only five people in the bar with me. A group of men were sitting at a table in the back, talking amongst themselves, and there was a lonely couple at the bar with me. This was the perfect place to hide.

  I took another sip of what I assumed was Irish whiskey and tried to move my thoughts past Ramsey, wrapping my head around what Xavier ha
d done.

  He killed my father.

  He was the one that began a chain of events that took my family away from me, and I knew that deep down, I truly hated him for that.

  As much hatred as I had for his actions, a small part of me always wanted him to be the Xavier I fell for when I was a teenager. I never wanted to really admit that he was a monster that destroyed my family. Ever since I'd made the decision to stay, I buried those feelings of hatred so deep that I didn't think anything could bring them back up. But here I was, waves of sadness rushing over my body. At this moment, I never wanted to see him again. But on the other hand, I was still his.

  There was absolutely no denying the fact that I had completely fallen in love with him. I lusted after every touch of his strong hands, and I waited for him to call just to hear his strong, seductive voice. He completely owned me. Every moment not spent with him seem wasted.

  I held the necklace that I had taken from my mother between my fingers, rubbing the silver back and forth. For the first time since she died, I felt truly alive again. He had given me a gift. He had given me my life back.

  Before Xavier came back into my life, all I had was anger and resentment toward him, brought on by Ramsey’s tirades. But now, hearing Xavier’s admission, I started to understand his reasons, and I knew he was telling me the truth. My father had been a complete drunk. Xavier had said that he'd even beat my mother. She had gone to the Santinis for help. But in the end, they couldn't keep her safe.

  So how could Xavier ever keep me safe? And what about keeping me safe from himself?

  I hardly noticed as the group in the back of the bar broke away from their table and stood around the bar. Whatever business they had been discussing clearly was over. I watched as a few of them exited the pub. I recognized the way they were walking. It was like they had an extra ten pounds of weight on them, but none of them looked overweight. They were packing. I looked around me again, almost as if I had finally started to notice my surroundings. Where was I? I tried to think of what street I had walked down, where I had turned. I wasn't sure anymore. Did I walk into another mob family’s territory?

  Shit.

  “Enjoying that drink, doll?”

  A gorgeous man with sandy blonde hair and a thick Irish accent sat down next to me. I watched as two men flanked him. They tried to seem nonchalant, and if I hadn't been observant, I wouldn’t have noticed their protective stances around him. I'd seen men do that before.

  Too many times.

  “It's all right.”

  I shoved the rest of the whiskey down, trying to appear more interested in my drink than I was. I had to get out of here. I had just walked into Irish territory. I was so screwed.

  “I have to get going. My boyfriend is waiting for me.”

  The man grabbed my wrist. “Sit. Have another drink. It's on the house.”

  He signaled the bartender and the old man filled up my glass. I saw him quickly make eye contact with the Irishmen sitting next to me. Clearly, the bartender wasn't the one in charge here.

  “No really, I have to get going.”

  “I insist.” He held up his pint and I lifted my glass slowly. They clinked together in an awkward way. He took a swig from his beer but I didn't drink anymore out of my glass. I no longer trusted that what was in my glass was only Irish whiskey.

  “Haven't seen you in here before. You don’t come in here often, do you?”

  I shook my head. “No. I just took a wrong turn.”

  “I'm lucky you did. That's an interesting necklace.”

  “My necklace? Oh. It was a gift.” Suddenly, my lies were back running through my veins. He didn’t need to know about my mother. He was already fishing for information in an uncomfortable way.

  “From who?”

  “Boyfriend. He just gave it to me.” More lies. I prayed that he bought it.

  “Boyfriend?” I noticed the two security guards get closer to him. I'd made the wrong choice of words.

  “Yeah.” I had to convince them now. Hopefully, they wouldn’t mess with me if I was the girlfriend of a mob son. Or maybe that was the wrong move to make. I wasn’t sure. But right now, I had to hold on to the fact that I was in love with Xavier. It no longer mattered what he had done to my family. I was his. I only hoped now that it didn't end my life.

  “So which Santini boy are you with? I know that S, it’s their family symbol.”

  I closed my eyes. Shit. My mother had gotten this from the Santinis; of course, I had known that, but the way he said their name, it had been the wrong choice. “Xavier.”

  He smiled at me crookedly. “Well, isn’t that advantageous? I’m meeting with his family tomorrow night. Perhaps you should stay with us until then.”

  I put my hands up. “I don't want any trouble. If you have a message, I can make sure that it is delivered to them. But I’m not involved in his business. I don't know anything.”

  “See, the last time that he sent us a message, he shot one of my security, and he carved up one of my best sellers. So if I send you back with a message, I don’t want to hurt you. That pretty little face of yours looks good the way it is.”

  I felt sick to my stomach. What would he do to me? What had I gotten myself into?

  “Now, I think I'll just keep you. I like leverage at these meetings. Besides, there’s a call out for you. Your family wants you back, do you know that?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Your uncle—Ramsey, isn’t it? He’s been telling us to keep an eye out for you. He really wants you to complete whatever job it is he has you doing. Did you finish it?”

  “No,” I said simply. I didn’t like where this was going.

  “Damn, there’s money in it to finish the job. You just became my next payday.”

  “What money?”

  “Never mind that. You,” he said, pointing to one of his guards. “Call that Italian bastard and tell him we have his niece. I want details of the job and what the payout is. And you,” he said, turning toward me. “You stay here until we get further instructions. This just made the meet with your boyfriend a lot more interesting.”

  I reached for my cell phone, but he snatched it out of my hand. “Do you have anything else on you? A weapon, maybe?”

  I shook my head. “No. Just my phone.”

  He smiled at me again, and this time, it almost seemed genuine. “Wonderful. Drink! It is going to be a long night ahead of us.”

  I tried to inspect the whiskey before I threw it down the hatch, but I hardly had a chance. He was watching me too closely.

  I had ended things with Xavier on such an uncertain level. What if he didn't come for me? What if this meet went bad? What if this had been for nothing?

  Twenty-Four

  Xavier

  I made a call to make sure Ramsey was taken care of.

  “She said that she never wants to see him again. Make sure of it.”

  Dante nodded at me before shoving Ramsey in the back seat of his car.

  “She also made me promise not to kill him. See that that doesn't happen.”

  “Got it. So where is she?”

  I shook my head. “I don't know.”

  “I can't believe you found Farrah. After all this time.” He looked at my closely. I could tell he was annoyed I had lied to him.

  “Dante you know I never stopped caring about her. I had to make her mine.” But now as quickly as I had found her, I had lost her. And that was on me and my secrets.

  “What about her father? I can’t imagine she feels too great about all that.”

  “She doesn't. It's why she's not here right now. Why I’m praying that she comes back. I won’t force her to make a decision. It's all up to her now. As much as I want to, I can't force her into this.”

  Dante nodded. “That is the purpose of having women in your life, man, to make things difficult.”

  “I know.” I stifled a chuckle.

  I watched as he drove away, Ramsey in the back seat pra
ctically slumped over. I hoped that I would never see that asshole again. It took everything I had to not kill him. I told Farrah I wouldn’t, though, so I didn't. I may have landed a couple more sucker punches to his stomach while I waited for Dante to pick him up, but I kept my knife away from his flesh. And that took some serious restraint.

  I waited for her to come home that night. But she never showed. I called her cell phone again and again, trying to explain to her my side of the story. About how I had to keep her safe, and doing what I did was the only way to make sure of it. After trying to reach her for several hours, her phone started to go directly to voicemail. Everything had fallen apart.

  I'd always been a broken man; it was just the life that I had. Farrah made me feel whole. And without her, darkness clouded every inch of my life. The next morning, I looked in the closet, touching the clothes that she had worn only a couple days ago. I wondered if she would come back for them. If she would ever come back at all.

  Finally, that afternoon, I had to go to the office to prepare for the meet with the Irish. I called her again, but it went right to voicemail. I would try one last time before we left for the restaurant. If she did not answer, as much as I hated to do it, I would give her the space that she wanted and leave her alone.

  When I arrived at the office, I found Dante sitting in the strip club. I walked up behind him. “Is it done?”

  He looked up at me. “It's done. I dropped him off at a hotel and called the Salvatores. I waited until someone arrived for him. But they’re staying another night. He’s not in any type of shape to travel. Good on you, by the way.”

  “Thanks. He deserved every hit.”

  He nodded. “His family was pretty happy to have him back. They said he went off the deep end about a year ago. He was harassing Farrah. Setting her up to kill you. Did you know that?”

  I shook my head, my father had alluded to it, but then I wasn’t sure. “No. So she knew this whole time about her dad and me?”

  He shrugged. “I guess. He convinced her to come after you.”

 

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