When the timer went off, I pulled the soggy burrito out of the microwave and ate half of it. The rest went back into the refrigerator for supper. Unless I could book bigger fights, it looked like I would have to wait another week to go to the grocery store.
The money was the only good thing about working for Tilucci. Once I had worked enough to pay back the money I lost him, I was making enough money that for the first time in my life, I had some decent savings. My regular job paid for my basic expenses, and my after-hours job covered my other needs. I was miserable for years, but at least I always had a good meal.
Remembering the prize money in my pocket, I got dressed and headed toward the bank. A light mist was falling, so I pulled the hood of my baggy sweatshirt over my head. Maybe it would help prevent people from staring at my battered face.
“How can I help you today, sir?” the teller asked, giving me a bright smile.
“I’d like to deposit this into my account,” I said, handing the envelope over to the man. He took it, without question and I watched as the bills whirred through the counting machine. I always wondered what the bank employees assumed I got my cash from. However, a few hundred dollars in an envelope looks a lot better than a stack of hundreds for punching someone’s face in.
“Do you know your account number?”
“It’s, um— “
“I can look it up by name if you don’t remember it,” he offered.
Apparently, I had suffered too many blows to the head if I couldn’t remember the same eight digits that I had recited at least once a month for the past five years.
“Yeah, sure,” I said, feeling stupid. “The name is Arianna Baron.”
He typed a few words into the computer then printed a receipt. He tore it off and handed it to me with a smile. “Is there anything else I can do for you, Mr. Baron?”
“No, that’s all,” I said. I thanked the man and walked back into the drizzling rain.
I looked at the tiny scrap of paper from the bank. The balance was less than I wanted it to be at this point, but still a good start. Arianna would be six soon, and she already had more money to her name than I did in any given month after the rent check cleared.
At this rate, by the time my little girl turned eighteen, she would be able to do whatever she wanted. She could go to college and get a degree, something I always wished was available to me. She could move away from the city and put a down payment on a little house in the country. I had screwed so much up for her, that giving her any extra money I had was the very least I could do.
When I got home, I picked up my phone and called Lilian. I couldn’t stop thinking about Arianna and I needed to know how she was doing.
“Hey,” she said when she picked up the phone. “Is everything all right?”
“Yeah, everything’s fine with me. Why do you ask?”
“It’s just been a while since I heard from you. I wasn’t sure how you were doing.”
I felt guilty. I wanted to call more often, but I didn’t want to bother their family. I felt like an intruder in their lives.
“I’ve just been busy working, that’s all. I was just at the bank depositing money into Arianna’s account and I thought I’d see how she was doing.”
“She’s good,” Lilian said softly. I could hear the squeak of a door. I imagined she was going somewhere that Arianna wouldn’t overhear her. “Ari’s been reading me books all morning. She’s so smart, Bryce.”
I managed to let out a chuckle. “She certainly doesn’t get it from me. How is she liking Kindergarten?”
“She loves it. She has a few friends that we’ve had over to the house. Good kids. I love just listening to them talk. They say the funniest things.”
“How’s your little boy?” I asked.
“Mason is great, too. He’s going through his terrible twos so Chance and I have been exhausted. Arianna’s great with him, though. She’s such a good helper.”
I smiled. Lilian was a good mom. I couldn’t have trusted anyone else to raise my daughter. Lilian and Chance had everything—the big house in the suburbs, good jobs, and lots of love to spare. They were good, educated people with the kindest hearts. I had no doubt that they would ensure that Arianna would grow up to be an amazing young woman.
“Has she asked about—” I trailed off. I knew it was a question that I shouldn’t have asked, but I was curious.
“Asked about you?” Lilian finished. “She understands that I’m not her birth mother, but I don’t think she’s quite grasped the concept of you. We have pictures of you holding her at the hospital when she was born, but I don’t think she realizes that you’re her dad.”
“It’s probably best that way,” I said. I wondered if I would ever feel safe enough to introduce myself to her.
“Maybe in a few years,” she said hopefully.
“I don’t know,” I mumbled. “Tilucci has an appeal.”
She was silent for a moment.
“He doesn’t know about Arianna anyway,” I said. “And he’s not going to, either.”
“Okay,” she said softly. “This must have been tough news to hear.”
“I’m definitely not happy about it. But there’s nothing I can do, anyway. We’ll see what happens.”
“I’m sure it will be fine. I just hope you can meet her soon. I’ll mail you some pictures of her. You wouldn’t believe how much she’s starting to look like Emily. She looks a lot like you, too. She’s got those same bright green eyes that you have. You guys made a beautiful child.”
I tried to swallow the lump in my throat away. Arianna was the only thing that gave my life meaning. I wanted to be with her, but I couldn’t. I would never be the good parent she deserved. She would have to settle for a bank account on her eighteenth birthday and stories about how I tried the best that I could.
“I have to go,” I said, trying to keep my voice from breaking.
“Me too,” she said. “The kids are too quiet. That’s never a good sign.”
We both laughed. I blinked tears back.
“Don’t be a stranger,” Lilian said. “You know that you can call me whenever you want.”
“Thanks, Lilian. For everything.”
“Of course, Bryce. Your little girl is such a joy in our lives. I should be thanking you.”
“I’ll talk to you soon,” I promised. “Goodbye.”
I hung up the phone and buried my head in my hands. My heart ached for the daughter I hadn’t seen in years. I wanted to know everything about her. Lilian did her best to keep me updated, but she had a busy life of her own. It was hard to keep up.
She was the only good thing I had in this world. If it weren’t for Arianna, I probably would have just given up on life altogether. Even though she didn’t live with me, or even know me, I had to provide for her. It was my duty as a father to ensure she was always cared for.
Anger boiled up under my skin. I would have had everything I could have wanted if I had never become involved with Tommy Tilucci. He was the reason for my pain and suffering. He was untouchable, though. Even if I had a good shot at him, he was always surrounded by a crew of thugs and crooked government officials. I could never defeat him alone. There would be no justice.
There would be no justice if I never tried to take him down either. I would need to talk to Jane. I couldn’t take him down single-handedly, but I would do my best to wound him. He would pay.
Reckless
Jane
The day after my meeting with Bryce Baron, I woke up feeling giddy, like it was Christmas morning. I had a real lead to work on, after months and years of searching for stories to satisfy my hunger. On my way into work, I grabbed two large cappuccinos and set one on Charlie’s desk.
“Good morning,” I practically sang as I gifted him the hot beverage.
“Aren’t you chipper this morning?” he cackled. “What’s going on with you? Is it a guy?”
“You’re the only guy for me,” I joked. “I guess I’m just in a good m
ood.”
“I like to see you smiling like this,” he said, resting his hand on mine. “It puts me in a good mood.”
“I’ve got to run,” I said. “I’ve got busier days ahead of me.”
“Big story?”
I nodded.
“Go get ‘em,” he cheered.
I sat down behind my desk in the quiet office. I loved being to work early and staying late. There was something so relaxing about being alone with my thoughts.
I called around to my favorite sources at the courthouse and prison and found out that Tilucci’s appeal was happening later in the day. I thought about going but then realized that it wasn’t a good look for me to attend in person. I’d find an intern to go and take notes for me. If Tilucci saw my face, I don’t know what he’d do.
During his first trial, I saw just how terrifying he could be. On more than one occasion, I watched as he leaped out of his seat to go after someone. It didn’t matter if it was a witness saying something that made him look bad, or a lawyer asking a tough question, he was ready to strike. I knew I had to be at the top of his hit list, but my absence from the appeal maybe would buy me a little time.
I wanted to work on the Tilucci story immediately, but I had another story due in a day from now that wasn’t close to being finished. It was a good story about the women’s state penitentiary using prisoners as slave laborers. The story would likely lead to prison reform in the state, which would be good, but it wasn’t the stuff I wanted to cover now. It was kind of fun to make some enemies within the government, but besides that, it was pretty tame stuff.
I had about five more people I wanted to interview before finishing the story, but I cut it down to two and made quick calls. They provided me with the information I needed and I started writing.
I was typing so furiously that I didn’t even see Pat walk into his office. I’m sure that he noticed I was busy and chose not to bother me because we usually greeted each other first thing in the morning. I would have plenty of time to talk after I finished this story, though. I wanted to get it done as quickly as possible so I could move on to bigger and better things.
I finished the story by noon, working nonstop. It was not to my usual standard, but good enough for air. I hoped that Pat would accept it.
“Here it is,” I said, lying my paper copy down on his desk. He was an old-school guy who liked to make his edits on hard copy. I had tried to get him to see the virtues of electronic mail for years, but it never seemed to catch on. I didn’t mind too much. The red markings on my copies were an invitation to challenge him.
He looked up from his work, raising his eyebrows at me. “Already? I thought you asked me for an extension. It’s not even due until tomorrow.”
“I worked on it last night,” I lied. “I thought it would be nice to get something done ahead of schedule for once.”
He eyed me suspiciously. “I bet.”
“It’s good, I promise.”
“Does this have anything to do with the fact that Tommy Tilucci’s appeal is today?”
I feigned ignorance. “Is it?”
He shook his head. “Cut the shit,” he groaned. “You know darn well it’s today. If I had to guess, I’d say that you rushed this story to dig around in Tilucci’s business.”
“If it looks rushed to you, I’ll rewrite it. I only want to hand in quality work.”
“You worry me, Jane,” he said, taking off his reading glasses. “I don’t think I want you reporting on him at all.”
“I’m the only journalist in the world that’s willing to touch that subject,” I protested. “This is really important to me. I need your blessing before I can proceed.”
“And I don’t know if I can do that and keep a clear conscious,” he rebutted. “This isn’t just a little dangerous. This is seriously dangerous.”
“You know that I’m not afraid of danger, Pat.”
“You’re like a daughter to me. I don’t want to see you get hurt over this job.”
“I’m twenty-nine, Pat,” I chuckled. “I’m a little old to be your daughter.”
“Fine,” he sighed. “You’re like a younger sister to me. The sentiment doesn’t change. I care about your wellbeing. You’re not in the army anymore. You don’t have to sacrifice your life for anyone.”
I clenched my jaw. The truth was, Pat was more than a work mentor to me. I grew up without a father. My mom tried the best she could with me, but she had to work long hours to keep food on the table. She didn’t have a lot of time to look out for my wellbeing. As a result, I got into a bit of trouble as a kid. I managed to turn my life around by joining the army after graduating from high school, but that came with its own pitfalls.
I lost touch with all the parental figures in my life after joining the service. My superior officers gave me boundaries and commands, and I finally felt secure within the strict rules. I had people around me that I admired and respected and I wanted to make them proud. I worked hard and climbed up the ranks. I didn’t always make the right decisions, but I devoted my life to the army until my honorable discharge at the ripe age of twenty-three.
“You like danger,” Pat sighed. “I get that. Hell, I don’t think anyone joins the military if they don’t get a little thrill from it. But we’re not on the front lines anymore. Civilian life is different.”
“I wish it wasn’t,” I muttered under my breath. I think he heard me because his knuckles turned white.
“I mean,” I recovered, “It’s been six years now, and I still have trouble adjusting to civilian life.”
Pat relaxed. “I know. Just be careful, will you?”
I nodded. Whenever we discussed our time in the military, we both walked on eggshells. It’s an unwritten rule between many people that our worst moments are never discussed. Talking about things is usually reserved for spouses and therapists. You don’t use the atrocities of war as icebreakers at parties, and you certainly don’t use it as bargaining chips.
Pat had served, and been discharged from the army a full ten years before I had even graduated high school. Our mutual past employer was always a bonding point between us, but we never got into details about our time overseas. One night, we went out for drinks, and he shared his experience with me. His story still haunts me to this day.
Pat was nearing the end of his four-year assignment when he and four other soldiers in his troop were kidnapped and taken hostage. He was held captive and tortured for multiple grueling weeks. When he was finally released, he was obviously shaken and returned to his job at the station to help keep his mind busy. Pat’s the strongest person I’ve ever known, but the experienced changed him.
Because of this, he was especially protective of me. I felt bad that my need for danger concerned him, but I couldn’t stop. I tread carefully, but I still had to fulfill my needs. For the most part, he didn’t know the extent of trouble I got myself in during the Tilucci story. Unfortunately, most of my behavior was difficult to hide, as he was reading everything I was working on.
“When am I ever not careful?” I answered.
He shot me a concerned father look. “Does the name Max Malone sound familiar to you?”
I hadn’t heard that name spoken aloud in years. Max Malone was Tommy Tilucci’s right-hand man. When I was getting deep into my research, I was having trouble getting information from his inner circle. Much like I tried with Bryce, I nearly forced myself onto Max, and he took the bait.
Things got out of hand quickly. He took a liking to me and asked me out. I was concerned, but I couldn’t say no to free information. We became a couple, of sorts, and I spent a lot of time with Max. He told me way more than a girlfriend should have ever been told. He was just as scary as Tommy but hot as hell.
Naturally, I was extremely attracted to him, and the line between an informant and romantic partner blurred. He was sweet to me, but I saw his bad side come out a time or two. Where Tommy was rash and impulsive, Max was calm and calculating. On my way over to his apartme
nt one night, I saw him beating the shit out of some man. I got spooked and ran. The man ended up dying from his injuries a few weeks later.
After seeing that, I should have run for the hills, but instead, I stuck around, inviting him into my home late at night for marathon sex sessions. Our bodies fit together so well, and it was quite the shame when I had to name him in my story, and he was arrested. I hadn’t had a lover like him since. People always say that crazy girls are great in bed. I certainly found that to be true of crazy men, too.
When Pat found out what I had done, he didn’t speak to me for days. After coming around to apologize for the tenth time, he broke down, nearly crying, telling me how scared he was for my safety and how stupid it was for me to get so involved. I told him that I would never do anything like that again, no matter what the story was. I meant it too, at the time.
“I trust you,” he relented. I suspected that he meant this as some reverse psychology tactic, hoping I would feel so guilty for breaking his trust that I would behave.
His phone rang, and I patiently waited as he spoke to whoever was on the other end of the call. I fiddled with the office supplies on his desk, thinking about when I would try to contact Bryce again. I was thinking about questions to ask him when Pat gasped.
“I appreciate the call,” he said, his face turning white. “We’ll be in touch.”
He hung up the phone, his hand resting on the handle for a moment before letting go.
“What was that all about?” I asked.
“It’s over,” he said, straight-faced. “Tilucci won the appeal. He’s being released as we speak.”
Trusting Him
Jane
At the news of Tommy Tilucci’s release, I got up out of the chair and silently walked back to my desk. Pat was calling after me, but it just sounded like white noise.
Her Protection: A Bad Boy Mafia Romance (Omerta Series Book 2) Page 3