by Hamel, B. B.
I reached out for my wine with a shaking hand, but it was empty. He leaned forward, grabbed the bottle, and poured me a small glass. I took a sip and stared down at my cleared plate.
“I don’t know how I ended up here,” I said.
“Chance,” he said. “You’re lucky, though. The Don didn’t have to bring you in. He could’ve fed you to the wolves.”
“If you think I’m going to feel grateful to that asshole, you’re kidding yourself.”
He sighed and sipped his drink. “I don’t need you to be grateful,” he said. “But maybe not so angry.”
“Can’t promise that, either.” I stared at the table for a moment as darkness truly descended around us. “You talked about losing your parents, never having an adult care about you. But imagine if you did have one, but then that adult was taken from you by a specific person.”
“You think Don Leone’s to blame for your father’s death?”
“Maybe not directly,” I said. “But my mom always seemed to think he was to blame somehow.”
Luca rubbed the stubble on his chin and cocked his head. “What are you gonna do if that’s true?” he asked. “If the Don really did whack your dad for some reason?”
“I don’t know,” I said.
“You need us right now. And that means you need the Don.”
“I know,” I said. “You don’t have to keep saying it.”
“I feel like I do, though. You haven’t seemed to figure it out.”
I pushed back from the table, suddenly too angry to stay still. I stood up and paced away toward the weed patch at the back fence. I could feel his eyes on me and I wanted to scream at him.
“You don’t get it,” I said, turning around. “My whole life, I was taught that you people are the enemy. And now you want me to rely on you.”
“I’m not the enemy,” he said. “You don’t even know me.”
I waved my hand at that. “You and everyone like you,” I said.
“You’re so obsessed with this idea that we’re all monsters.” He stood up, slowly pushed his chair back. I blinked up at him, at his muscular arms and gorgeous eyes. He came around the table and walked toward me. “Sometimes monsters are necessary.”
“I don’t want any of this,” I said, my voice a hoarse whisper.
“I know that,” he said. “You keep telling me. But that doesn’t change anything. So what are you gonna do, Clair? Are you going to keep being angry, or accept that you’re here, with me?”
I stared at him, unable to help myself. He stopped just inches away from me, staring down with those gorgeous eyes that made me want to fall directly inside of them. His full lips were tempting, his messy brown hair was thick, and I felt so stupid and messed up.
Every time he came near, I forgot that I was supposed to hate him, at least a little bit.
“Tell me I’m just a monster,” he said, his voice soft and low. “Tell me that’s all I am and all I’ll ever be. I’ll go back inside and let you sit out here alone. I won’t bother you until this shit’s all finished.”
I chewed on my lip, unable to help myself. I wanted to say the words so badly it hurt. I wanted to get through this and to move on with my life, because if I didn’t I was afraid he’d scar me, break me, and leave me a mess in his wake.
“I don’t know you,” I said.
“Yeah,” he said. “That’s what I thought.”
He came closer. I didn’t step back as he reached out and touched my face. I clenched my jaw and went to push him away, putting my hands on his chest. But he caught my wrist, held it there, and I felt his heart racing, felt his muscles bulge.
He leaned down, holding my wrist, other hand on the small of my back, and he kissed me.
I leaned into that kiss. I tasted his lips, turned my head, let his tongue slide against mine. I felt his body crush against me, his hard muscles, all his weight, all the power behind him. I knew he could take me, wrestle me to the ground and dominate me, but there was still something strangely tender about the way he kissed.
But then the anger flared up again, that old anger I couldn’t quite keep at bay. This bastard, this monster, he thought he could just come up to me, give me some stupid fancy duck, get me to drink a glass of wine, and then kiss me.
Like he owned me. Like I owed him something.
I struggled away and staggered back. I stepped into the weed patch, felt the plants brush against my legs, and pressed myself against the fence. I stared at him, breathing hard, and he looked right back, a smile on his lips. But he didn’t come closer.
“Tell me you didn’t like that,” he said.
“Go to hell.”
“You dirty little girl.” His smile got bigger. “You’ve been thinking about that since we met, haven’t you? You waltz around here, pretending like you’re all high and mighty, but the moment I touch you, you’re losing your mind.”
“Fuck you,” I said and shoved past him. My heart was racing so hard I thought I might pass out. Sweat dripped down under my arms, and for a second I was afraid he’d grab me and hold me again.
But instead, he let me go. He stood and watched as I made it to the back door, breathing like I’d just run a marathon.
“Keep pretending,” he said. “But we’re not that much different, you and me. I just chose to live my truth.”
“Yeah?” I said. “And your truth is what? Killing people?”
“Doing what I have to do for my family,” he said.
“They’re not your family,” I said. “They’re just… mobsters.”
“They’re all I have.” He smiled a little bit, and for a moment, just a brief moment, I could see all the pain in his eyes, the pain he must’ve carried around inside of him all the time, that pushed him to become what he was.
But I wouldn’t forgive him. I didn’t care how good he kissed, how strong his arms were. I didn’t care if he cooked, or laughed, or smiled, or pushed me against that fence and fucked my brains out.
He was a monster, plain and simple, and I wasn’t going to be his savior.
I turned, pushed the door open, and ran inside before he could stop me.
11
Luca
I woke up early the next morning and stood over the sink in the kitchen eating cold Peking duck for breakfast and drinking steaming hot coffee. I stared down at the metal sink, at the marks and scratches from years of use, before stretching my back with a groan.
I could still taste her on my lips. No matter how much I ate or drank, she was still there, lingering right on my tongue. I couldn’t seem to shake her, not the angry look she gave me, the rage somehow making her more beautiful, not the way she let out a little moan as soon as my tongue touched hers, not the way she let me press my body against her soft, gorgeous breasts. I couldn’t take any more, I knew she would’ve let me, knew she wanted it as much as I did, but something held me back.
It was the conversation we’d just had.
It hadn’t gone to plan.
Not even close.
Maybe she was right. My past was rough, much rougher than she knew. I didn’t tell her about the abuse, about the older kids beating the shit out of me regularly, about learning to defend myself, learning to take care of myself because nobody else would. I didn’t tell her that finding the Leone family was like finding a home.
But I knew she would’ve rolled her eyes at that.
She wasn’t wrong about some of it. I made my choices. I chose to kill, chose to steal and fight and sell drugs. I chose to become the monster that I am today, all because I wanted to fit in with the only family that ever seemed to give a tiny shit about me.
I didn’t deserve sympathy. Hell, I didn’t know if that’s what I wanted.
Maybe I just wanted her to look at me like a person, without a hint of fear in her eyes.
That wasn’t happening though. And I’d have to be okay with it.
Because there was still the desire, mixed with the fear, and I’d take that.
As I
sipped my coffee, my phone began to vibrate on the table. I walked over, picked it up, saw Steven’s name on the screen.
“Hello,” I said. “What’s up, boss?”
“Morning,” Steven said. “I was wondering if you’d be awake.”
“I know the deal. Up early, get shit done.”
He snorted. “You’re not working for my crew right now, so I figured you’d take a vacation.”
“Not how I roll,” I said. “Besides, I’m responsible for the girl here.”
“How’s that going?”
“About as well as you’d expect.” I put my mug down and sat in a chair, the legs creaking under my weight. “She hates my guts and already almost got herself killed.”
He laughed. “Sounds about right.”
“But otherwise, we’re having fun.”
“Well, listen, I’ve got something for you.”
“What’s that?”
He cleared his throat and I heard some noise in the background. I figured it was the bakery, which was confirmed when I heard Sergio talking again, close this time, loud enough that I recognized his cadence. Steven told him to fuck off, laughed a little, something dragged against the receiver and made static noise.
“Sorry,” he said. “Sergio being a dick.”
“Tell him I said hey.”
“Will do.” He let out a breath like he was sitting down. “Look, so here’s the deal. I got word of another nest, a little infestation up in North Philly. Near Temple, actually.”
“Really?” I asked. “The Jalisco living near a bunch of college kids?”
“They probably think we’ll steer clear,” he said. “And those Temple cops are no joke.”
“Third biggest police force in the state,” I said. “Fucked me up once or twice.”
“We’ve all been there,” he said. “But listen, we can hit them hard, clear out the rats. Who knows, maybe the Jalisco that are out hunting you are staying there.”
I leaned back and looked up at the ceiling. “I’m not sure I can take part,” I said.
“Run it by the Don,” he said. “You don’t have to come if you can’t leave the girl. But run it by the Don anyway and see what he says.”
“You can always do that, you know.”
“Nah,” he said. “You take this one. It’ll win you some points if it works out.”
“And I’ll get blamed if it doesn’t.”
“Hazards of the business, but come on, little brother. When have I ever steered you wrong?”
“That’s the sort of shit people say in movies right before something bad happens.”
He laughed at that. “Yeah, okay,” he said. “But it’s true. So think about it.”
“I’ll think about it.”
“Good. Tell the girl I said hey. You fuck her yet?”
“Not my style,” I said.
“Oh, right. Your style is not fucking her. I forgot.”
“How about you worry about fucking yourself and we’ll call it even.”
He laughed again and hung up.
I shook my head, tossing the phone onto the table. I heard a noise in the doorway and looked up with a start.
Clair stood there, leaning against the doorframe. She wore a loose, baggy white t-shirt and a pair of small shorts, almost completely lost under the shirt.
“Didn’t see you there,” I said.
“Who was that?”
“Steven.” I picked up my coffee and sipped it. “My boss.”
“Oh, right.” She shifted a little bit, her eyes glancing over to the coffee maker. “Can I have some?”
“You don’t need to ask,” I said, and got the feeling that she was being awkward around me. Probably because my kiss knocked her head over heels last night and she doesn’t know how to deal with it.
She walked over, got coffee, leaned against the counter.
“What were you two talking about?”
I gave her a look. “You don’t want to know.”
“It was about me. I heard that much.”
I smirked a little. “He was asking me if you were any good in bed.”
She turned red, a little blush coming across her cheeks. “You don’t know whether I am or not,” she said.
“He still asked.”
“God, you’re such an asshole, you know that?” She pushed off the counter and went to storm out.
“Hold on,” I said. “Wait. He told me about a Jalisco safe house he wants to hit.”
“Really?” she asked, lingering in the middle of the kitchen.
“Don’t look so surprised,” I said. “That’s what we do.”
“But you’re going to attack them for me.”
I shook my head. “Not exactly,” I said. “We’ve been warring with them since before you came on the scene, little girl.”
She glared at me. “Don’t call me that.”
“Whatever you say. But look, he wants me to go to the Don about it. Wants me to ask permission.” I leaned forward, putting my coffee mug down, and stared into her eyes. “But I thought I’d ask your permission first.”
“Mine?” Her eyes widened as she took a step back. “Why would you ask me?”
I chewed on that for a moment. “You’re a part of this,” I said. “The Jalisco, they’re going to keep coming hard for you. So we can hit back, kill them first before they get a chance. Or we can try to keep you hidden. If we do make a move, you’ll probably have to come and hide out in the car or some shit. I couldn’t just leave you behind.”
“You’d want me to… come?” She shook her head. “That’s insane.”
“You wouldn’t come inside.”
“Luca. There’s no way.”
“You’d be safe,” I said. “I promise you that. I won’t ever put you in harm’s way, Clair.”
She opened her mouth to speak then let out a breath instead. She pulled at her hair, straightening it over and over again, chewing on her cheek.
“Do you think this would help?” she asked. “I mean, if you did this… would I be able to go home?”
“I don’t think so,” I said. “But the more Jalisco we kill, the fewer there are to hurt you.”
She groaned and shook her head. “I can’t be a part of you… killing people.”
“Listen, little girl,” I said. “I killed a guy for you just the other day. You didn’t try to stop me then.”
“That was different,” she said. “And stop calling me that.”
“How’s it different?”
“He came for me first. You were… protecting me.”
“Killing these guys is protecting you.” I shook my head and gave her a sharp look. The girl clearly didn’t get it, not even close. She didn’t know how this worked. “The Jalisco are going to come after you, over and over again. It’s just a matter of time before they find this place. We’ve been lucky so far, we haven’t had too many people over. But soon you’ll have to meet with lawyers, you’ll have to go out and sign shit, you’ll have to live your life. When you do, the Jalisco will be waiting.”
She leaned her head back and closed her eyes. She let out this frustrated growl that sent a shiver down my spine.
“I hate this,” she said.
“I know you do.” I stood up and loomed over her, staring down at her pretty face. “But we can’t just hide forever. Sooner or later, you’ve got to do something.”
“Can’t I just give it all away?” she whispered. “Give you all the money. Then I can be free.”
“Doubt it,” I said. “But I’ll take it, if you’re offering.”
She sighed and shook her head. “No, you’ll just waste it.”
“On what?”
“Peking duck. I bet you’ll buy Hog out of his stash and hoard it all for yourself.”
I grinned at her. “You know me too well already.”
“Yeah, yeah.” She sighed, ran a hand through her hair, and seemed to really struggle for a moment. “Fine, call up the Don. See what he says.”
“So
I have your permission then?”
“You have my permission to call my uncle.” She shook her head and walked to the door then into the living room. “You don’t have my permission for anything else.”
“You’re going to have so much fun,” I said loudly as she walked across the living room then to the stairs. “Just you wait, little girl. You’re going to be a mafia princess soon enough.”
“Stop calling me that!” she yelled from the staircase.
I laughed as she stomped her way up then slammed her door shut.
12
Clair
I hid out in my room for the rest of the day, struggling with my decision.
I just told Luca he can go kill a bunch of men. I gave him that permission, all because I’m a coward.
I’m afraid of the Jalisco. I’m terrified of what they might do to me, terrified they’ll find me and hurt me, and I’m willing to unleash Luca and the rest of the mafia on them if it means saving myself.
I’m a hypocrite.
I know it, I can see it plain as day. It stared me back in the face all afternoon as I rolled around in bed, staring at my phone, trying to distract myself with TikTok memes and stupid Reddit posts.
But I just kept coming back to one simple truth.
I was willing to kill if it meant saving myself.
So how was I any different from Luca?
Around noon, there was a knock on my door. I got out of bed, shuffled over and opened it up, expecting to see Luca standing there.
Instead, I found a small plate of duck, some rice, some vegetables, and a little note.
You don’t have to hide, but at least hide in style. -L
I couldn’t help but smile.
What a freaking weird mobster.
One second, he’s talking about killing men. Then the next, he’s feeding me, like he really does want to take care of me.
I took the food into my room, shut the door quietly, and ate sitting on the edge of my bed.
Maybe he was right. Maybe I was giving him a hard time.
My life hadn’t been so hard. I had my mother, after all, and we had money from my father. Even though he got killed when I was young, and my mother essentially wrote off the rest of the family, we were comfortable. I didn’t have to struggle.