My dad made sure to build this house with a large enough dining hall for everyone. There’s at least twenty people in here. And it feels comfortable, it feels like home. I may not like everything about being a Valetti, but I fucking love Sunday night dinner.
“Pops,” I greet as I slap my hand on father’s shoulder, “looking good tonight.” Pops is getting old, but he still looks good. He’s got dark eyes, with dark hair that’s grey at the temples. I have his high cheekbones and sharp jawline. He looks exactly like a mafia boss. And that’s good, 'cause that’s exactly who he is. I take a seat on his right, across from my brother.
“What up, Dom?” Vince is two years younger, making him twenty-seven. My chest pains realizing the dead fuck in my office was four years younger than my brother. Marco whatever-the-fuck his last name was. My jaw clenches tight, knowing I gotta tell them what happened. Not here though, not at dinner. Ma doesn’t approve of that shit.
“What the hell did I do to you?” Vince looks back at me like I slapped him.
I shake my head and reply, “Not you. I got to talk to you guys later.” The room goes quiet as I reach for some butter for the roll that’s on my plate. I don’t wait till dinner’s served. Never have. Everyone else waits, but Ma doesn’t mind if I get started without her. I don’t know why Ma bothers with the rolls though. I’m the only one who eats them. Everyone else always waits for the garlic bread.
“What’s going on, Dom, everything alright?” Jack asks. Jack is like a second father to me. He’s just under my father in the business, or family, whatever you want to call it.
“Not at the table.” My mom bends down with a hot bowl of meatballs, and places it in the center of the table.
I throw her an asymmetric grin as I say, “Aw, Ma, you know I wouldn’t.” I take a bite of my roll and lean back in my chair, trying to lighten the mood for my mother. “I love the smell of your sauce, Ma.”
She smiles at me and seems to forget the cloud of tension still lingering in the room.
Jack is sitting with his wife next to my brother, but his eyes are on my father. The two have their eyes locked on one another like they’re having a silent conversation. I try to stay out of family business. Pops told me I’d take the lead one day, but I passed it on to Vince. He’s got the brains and the stomach to handle this shit. I’m more of a numbers guy. I help out with the books, but I like my side business I have going on. It’s fun. …well, most of the time.
Jack’s wife, Jessica, gives me a tight smile from across the table. She’s new. Jack divorced his wife, and then she disappeared. He wasn’t right for a while. We all knew what happened. She got pissed one day, and he didn’t keep his dick in his pants like he fucking should have. And she went blabbing about the wrong shit to the wrong people. The thought makes me want to put my roll down, but I don’t. After all these years, I’ve toughened up some. Jessica’s only been a part of the life for a little under a year. The women stay out of the business at all times. That’s our rule. It prevents the shit that happened with Jack’s ex from going down. Yet another reason Jack blames himself. She should’ve known, though. What did she really think was going to happen?
Sitting around the table are more people in the family. Tommy and Anthony are good friends of mine, but they're also my cousins. They’re a year older and a year younger than me, respectively. Although they’re brothers, they look nothing alike. Tommy’s a wall of muscle. His fucking muscles have muscles. I’d be shocked if he didn’t take steroids. I hope he doesn’t, 'cause that shit will shrink up your dick. He’s a fucking hothead like my Uncle Enzo, so it’s hard to say if it’s from 'roids or just genetic. The younger one, Anthony, looks scrawny next to his brother, but he’s lean and works out to keep himself in shape. His eyes are darker, almost black. Anthony is a sick fuck. Tommy might be the muscle, but when we need to get information from someone, we turn to Anthony. Put him in a room with anyone, I don’t care who it is, he’ll get what he wants.
Two seats down from them is Uncle Enzo; he owns the bistro and the club. If someone’s trying to meet my father, they have to go through my uncle first. He’s leaning over telling Jack something I’d wager is a dirty joke, if his tone and hand gestures are anything to go by. A second later, that half of the table is laughing up a storm and my father’s yelling out with a grin. There are some others around the table: Paulie, Joe and a few other guys I know. I don’t hang out with them really. I do the books like Pop says, and I keep my nose clean.
Pops wasn’t fond of me being a bookie at first. He said it’s not good to do shit that could bring heat around the family. But when I started making valuable contacts, like my vet friend, he changed his mind. I know he’s still proud of me even if I’m not looking to take over his empire. I’m not who he thought I’d be, but I’m still family and still worthy of being part of this particular family. Ma takes a seat at the other end and smacks Uncle Enzo over the head. “Hey!” he yells out and rubs the back of his head as everyone gets a good laugh in. Tony’s on my right, the nerd of the group and also a lifelong friend. He gets the intel that we need. And that reminds me of my girl. My hands itch wanting to feel her lush ass again, and my dick jumps in my pants. I slip off my jacket and drape it over the back of the chair as Johnny walks in.
He takes a seat next to my sister, Clara. I’ve been noticing that lately. Not sure I like it. They’ve been friends for a while, but they seem different lately. The only people missing are my cousin Jimmy and his little boy, Gino. Gino’s a hoot. His mom’s a bitch and is lucky she’s alive, to be honest. Not that I’d ever do anything to the kid’s mother, but still, she’s lucky.
The bowls are going around the table. I close my eyes and breathe in deep. It smells like home. With the laughter and loud voices of my uncle and father talking over one another, it sounds like home.
And then Ma opens her mouth and ruins it by asking, “Dom, when are you going to bring home a nice girl for dinner?” The room goes silent except for a few chuckles from my uncle and Jack.
“Come on Ma, why don’t you pick on Vince for a while?”
“'Cause he’s my baby,” she says and shoots him a smile and he snorts a laugh in return, but I can tell he’s embarrassed, too. Good. If she’s gonna go after me, she should be digging at him as well.
“Ma, as soon as I find a keeper I’ll bring her home, alright?” As soon as the words come out of my mouth, my beautiful doll pops into mind. She’s got something about her I think Ma would like. I think it's her innocent yet confident nature, but I can’t tell exactly what it is just yet.
Ma starts to respond with one brow cocked, but I’m saved by little Gino. “Mammie!” The little tyke squeals as he runs in with his little knit hat and thick jacket that billows around him. How can he even move in that thing?
“Gino, bambino!” Ma loves that little man.
I grin at Jimmy and nod my head as he walks around the table to take a seat. He’s a tall, good-looking guy, with broad shoulders, and a pretty boy face. “Dom, who am I betting on this week?” I chuckle at him and shake my head.
“You read that book I gave you?” I ask, knowing full well he didn’t.
He snorts and looks at me like I’m crazy. “Fuck no.”
“Then my guess is that you’ll be betting like all the rest of 'em.”
The room laughs, and I just sit back in my seat until the meatballs come my way. Ma fries them before she covers them with her sauce. They’re so good, but so fucking bad for you.
“C’mon Dom, give me something.”
“Don’t ever bet against me,” I answer as I pile up the meatballs. “There’s something for you, Jimmy. You wanna win bets, you stay on my side.”
“Dude, just tell me this, New York or Dallas over under forty-five point five?” I shake my head at this fool.
“Giants, over.” I lick my lips and slice my meatball as I ask, “How’s construction going?”
“It’s alright. Same old, same old. Wish I had a fun job, like you.”
It’s important that we have someone in the construction business. Now that we have the vet, it’s not quite as important, but it’s still good for bookkeeping and all.
“It wasn’t fun today.” Johnny shakes his head and grabs another piece of garlic bread.
I don’t respond; we don’t talk about shit at the table. I stare at my food and shovel down another bite. I never wanna get dinner over with, but I’ve got two conversations that need to happen. One about De Luca, and one about my doll. I’ll get De Luca dealt with first. But now is not the time.
“What happened today?” Clara asks, and the room goes silent. She knows better. I stare down at her, but all I see is the back of her head as she looks to Johnny for an answer.
“No game today; they’re on break.” Johnny answers with a smile and a twinkle in his eye. He’s real fucking good at playing it off. Still, she should know not to ask questions. He should know not to bring that shit up. And they should both know not to be eye-fucking each other like that. I look to Pops, who looks exactly how I feel.
“I wanna play game!” Gino shouts from his seat next to Ma. Jimmy pulled a chair up from the corner so he could sit as close to Ma as possible. Just the way both of them like it. The little tyke gets the good mood going and all’s well for now, but if some shit is going on between Johnny and Clara, they better square that up fast. I take a peek at my Pops and see he seems to have gotten over it.
But I know he didn’t forget.
Becca
“Four,” I hold up my fingers for Jax to see, “little ladybugs sitting on a tree.” He giggles and holds up four fingers. I love his toothy grin. We’re on his rocket ship bed with his Mickey space-themed bedding, reading a story to settle him down for bed. “Along came a frog, and then there were…” I try to turn the page, but he shuts the book on my fingers.
“Little man-” I stop my scolding as he yawns. He’s so tuckered out. He almost fell asleep in the bath, and that never happens. He freaking loves splashing in the tub. Especially if he can soak me. It’s his favorite pastime. He yawns again and rubs his eyes with his little fists. A soft smile plays at my lips, and I put the book on the little nightstand next to his bed. His cup of water is there, but I really should take it; I don’t want him to have an accident. I lean down and give him a kiss on the forehead. “I love you, baby boy. Have sweet dreams.”
“Love you, Mommy.” Hearing those words melts my heart, and they get me every time. I rise slowly and walk to the door. I double-check the nightlight before I hit the light switch and close the door. I wait a minute, listening by the door. Some days he’s a little deviant and gets up to play, but tonight he’s pretty beat. After a few minutes of silence, I walk to my own bedroom.
It fucking sucks being in here. Everything reminds me of Rick. I don’t know why I haven’t gotten rid of anything. The picture frames on the wall are full of our pictures. A couple are from my pregnancy and Jax’s birth. But then there are wedding pictures on the dresser. His dresser. I rub the back of my neck and sigh. I should take care of this. I really should. I can’t live like this. I fall back against the wall and look around the room. The comforter is a stormy blue; it’s what he picked. The rug is the modern shag one he wanted. The furniture was all his. There’s hardly anything in here that’s mine. Everything has him written all over it. At least I picked my own clothes out. Thank God he didn’t have a preference for that.
And heels. I refused to budge on that shit. Heels are my one indulgence. I don’t care if I spend a little extra on them occasionally.
I turn around and walk out of the bedroom; I’ll sleep in the guest room tonight. It seems like every other night this happens. I come to the realization that our bedroom was really his bedroom and instead of dealing with it, I just leave. I cringe as the thought hits me. I’m a stronger woman than that, but I’m so fucking tired. I’m way too tired to deal with this shit. I grin and think about messaging Sarah. That’s why I have a PA, to take care of this shit for me. I can’t message her this late though. That would make me a shit boss.
I grin as I turn on the light to the guest bedroom. This room is mine. All mine. From the antique furniture and cream paisley bedspread, to the pale aqua paint and plush chenille woven rug, it's all me. I curl my toes in the rug and sigh. I can sleep in here. I should just burn the old bedroom. After I relocate the pictures of Jax… and my heels.
I rub my sore eyes and climb into bed. I need to be up at four to make sure everything’s good with the restaurant and that the orders came in. And hopefully Jax will sleep in until seven, fingers crossed for eight, so I can get all the morning shit done before the lunch rush starts. I settle down deep into the covers and rest my eyes. Tomorrow will be a better day. I will make it a better day. I no longer have to deal with any of this shit with Rick. The familiar pain in my chest forms yet again. I’m not sure if it’s from Rick dying, or leaving me or cheating on me… or trying to take Jax away from me. That fucking bastard. I shake my head and push down the emotions. It doesn’t matter. None of it matters now. It’s all over. Paying his debt was the last thing I had to do.
My teeth grind against one another. It’s a good fucking thing they gave me his phone and I had the balls to look at it. What if I’d never seen it? “Fucking Rick,” I mutter with every bit of disdain I have left in me and roll over under the sheets.
I pull them up close to my chest and snuggle deep into the pillow top mattress. Happy thoughts. Positive thoughts. Do good things, think good things, and good things will happen. I repeat my mantra a few times and then open my eyes. I bite my bottom lip, feeling like a bitter bitch, but really – where the fuck did thinking like that get me?
I throw the covers back and head to the shower. I don’t care that it’s going to fuck my hair up in the morning by sleeping with it wet. I need a real shower. I need to wash all this shit off of me.
I clear my mind of everything and put a few drops of eucalyptus oil into the back of the shower as the room fills with steam. Deep breaths. Deep breaths. The cream marble tiles on the floor of the stall heat instantly under my feet. I step into the water, letting the warm spray wash away the day. I turn around and soak my hair, breathing in deep. Everything will be alright. Everything happens for a reason.
Just as I start to feel the heavy pull of relaxation, I remember today. I remember him.
A soft moan leaves my lips as I think of my dirty criminal. Although I can’t, I pretend like I can still smell him on me. I wish I could. The eucalyptus suddenly feels like a bad idea. I try to remember that masculine scent he had, all woodsy and raw. Raw is a good word to describe him. A heat rushes up my chest and into my cheeks as I remember that’s how he took me, raw. My fingers brush against my hips, trailing down to my thighs. My lips part as I remember him pushing me against the wall and slamming into me. It was almost surreal. Like a dark fantasy I’ve dreamed about. I pull my fingers back and open my eyes, realizing where my thoughts have gone. I can’t do this shit. It’s one thing to fantasize; it’s another to indulge. Indulge? I shake my head. No, that’s not what that was. That was him taking advantage. Even if I enjoyed it. I bite my lip and start washing my body. It’s so fucking wrong I enjoyed that. No wonder I’m alone. I start to feel dizzy, and I have to lean against the stall. Fuck. I turn the temperature down and steady myself. I’m just too fucked up for this right now. My emotions are out of control. I don’t know what’s normal, what’s rational, and what is just truly fucked.
Other than me. I was, in fact, truly fucked today. I turn off the water and step out. The bathroom is chillier than I like it to be, but it was a quick shower. I grab a towel and quickly dry off. I need to get to bed. I take out my face moisturizer and the serum for my hair and apply both. As I shut the cabinet, I catch sight of the spot where my birth control should be. I haven’t had any for months.
Thank God I took the morning-after pill. And just like that, every bit of desire and heat leaves me. I don’t have time for fantasies. I don’t have time to indulge in s
omething that would destroy the small piece of me that survived Rick.
I huff and throw on a nightshirt to quickly get into bed. Today was a one-off. Whatever I did today – I shake my head with my eyes closed – it doesn’t count. Sarah will never mention it again. I wish she hadn’t been there. I wish she hadn’t seen me after that. After him. Fuck, the thought of him lights every nerve ending in my core aflame. FUCK!
I bury my head into the pillow and try to forget the shameful desire burning deep down in my core. It only takes the thought of him closing the door on me without a second look to shut down my longing. What a fucking prick. He may be hot and powerful and he may have fucked me like he owns me, but he’s still an asshole. All men are fucking assholes.
It’s wrong to want a man like him. But I can’t lie to myself; I really fucking want him.
Dom
“So tell me what you know about her.” I question Tony as soon as I get him alone. De Luca’s fucked. He’s been fucked. We gotta keep our heads low. Yada yada. Same shit as last week. Motherfucker came for me; I took care of it. Pops is proud, and he’s sending a message. Beyond that, I don’t want a damn thing to do with this shit.
Back to making bets and hunting down my doll. Just thinking about her owing me makes my dick grow rigid. I shift my weight to cover it up, waiting for Tony to get all the info on the iPad. He takes that thing everywhere. I don’t really like the idea, even if it is password protected and encrypted. I told Pops, I told everyone. Apparently this technology is fine, and it doesn’t have everything on it. Still, I don’t like having a device with any information on it pertaining to the business.
I have to admit though, when he hands it over to me and my doll’s picture looks back at me, suddenly I don’t really give a fuck about the iPad. I read the description and go through the photos.
Those Boys Are Trouble Page 4