Royally F*cked

by Ivy Blake

  The razor blade sat on the counter, waiting for me to pick it up and apply it to my cheeks, but I passed on it. I didn’t have anybody to impress, and I wasn’t looking for anyone. My type of work didn’t allow for serious relationships, and with the way things had gone in my love life, I wasn’t in a rush to go down that road again.

  I slid on some jeans and canvas shoes, then put on a white tee-shirt and made my way to my car. A few of the tenants nodded their heads at me as I walked past. I hardly said much to anyone, and I wanted to keep it that way. People talked way too much, and if word got back around to what I did, my whole cover could be blown in less than a second. I didn’t want to take that risk, so I’d rather be seen as an enigma than someone who came off as being too friendly.

  I arrived at the precinct nearly forty-five minutes later. “Hey, here comes this pretty boy looking mother fucker right now. Glad, you finally decided to show up, you piece of shit,” one of the officers said as soon as I walked into the office.

  I removed my shades as he stood next to his buddy. The main room buzzed with police officers. I hated the stereotype that all police officers ate doughnuts, but I did see at least one or two boxes on different desks as I walked through the building.

  “Fuck you, Mason,” I said as I hung my glasses on the top of my shirt. “I’ve always wondered why you were so worried about when I showed up, but now I know why. You’re just an ass.”

  “Yeah, if I’m an ass, why the fuck did your mother leave my house last night claiming how much she loved me? Oh, by the way, tell her to make sure she brings some cookies next time. And not that fat-free shit, either.”

  “My mother would never fuck someone with titties bigger than hers, you fat son of a bitch.”

  The rest of the officers in the room laughed as we berated each other. It was always harmless between Mason and me. We had been friends for the last two years. At 27, he was three years younger than me, but he had just made it out of the academy one year ago, so he was still pretty much considered a rookie by our standard.

  A trio of female officers walked past us. One of them covertly winked at me as she perused through the maze of desks in the room. I smirked as she quickly turned away from me before anybody noticed our silent interaction. Mason nudged me on the shoulder with a doughnut in his hand.

  “Hey, nice work on that last assignment. I overheard the Captain talking about it the other day. You keep that up, you’re going to be a fucking legend out here in Chicago.”

  I removed a cigarette from my pocket and flicked the lighter. The butt of the cigarette glowed just beyond my eyes as I inhaled and blew the smoke in the opposite direction. “I’m just doing my job. I get paid to get the fucking bad guys, so I get the fucking bad guys.”

  “Oh, yeah,” Mason responded with a mouthful. Bits of his doughnut trickled from his lips like tiny sprinkles of raindrops. “You can be modest all you want, we know the truth. You are a fucking animal, man. Seriously.”

  Captain O’Malley opened his door, and the men in the room hushed to a silence.

  “Harrison, come see me. Right now.” He stood in front of his door for a few seconds, then spun around and slammed it closed. The force rattled the glass window to the left and right of his office.

  Mason looked at me wide-eyed, “Fuck, man. What the hell did you do to him?”

  I took another drag on the cigarette, then crushed it out in the ashtray on Mason’s desk. For some reason, I never smoked the whole cigarette. Two or three puffs was all I needed before I tossed it away. I scratched the tip of my nose with my thumb and without responding to Mason, I headed straight for Captain O’Malley’s office.

  I closed the door behind me as I stepped into his office. He stood, with his back towards the door, glaring at one of the plaques on his wall. His paw-like hands were folded behind him. He stood a few inches taller than me at about 6’5”. His shoulders were wide and stocky like a linebacker. His blocked head resembled a Pitbull’s skull.

  “Have a seat,” he said with his back still turned towards me.

  I slid into the leather chair right in front of his desk and placed my feet flat on the floor, interlocking my hands with each other as I waited for him to speak again. He moved from one plaque to the next as I sat patiently in his chair. Captain O’Malley was one of the most intimidating men I’d ever come across in my life, and that said a lot since I’d been in the room with some of the most notorious criminals that this world has ever seen.

  Even with that, I wasn’t shaken by his presence. It would take a lot more than a man his size to drive fear into my heart. He took another step to his right, then lifted his hand to straighten his plaque.

  “Good work on the Taylor case,” he said as his voice rumbled the room like a small tremor. “You are proving yourself to be an invaluable commodity around here.” Finally, he shifted his attention towards me. His face was completely hairless like an adolescent teen. His nose was flattened and appeared to disproportionate to the size of his face.

  “Thank you, Captain.”

  Without uttering another word, he ignored my gratitude and walked to his desk, removing a folder of papers from it. He took it out and tossed it towards me. A few papers slid out of the manila folder as it slowly came to a stop just inches away from the edge of the desk. As the first paper emerged, I leaned forward and got a better look at it.

  On the picture, there was a man who seemed to look right through me. His lips were pursed together as he glared right into the photo. His thick eyebrows sat just above his dark brown eyes like caterpillars slowly inching across his face. His cheeks drooped down looking like a bulldog, and a snarl appeared at the corner of his top lip.

  “Tony Dellucci,” Captain Mark O’Malley said as he leaned back in his chair. “He is a mob boss out here terrorizing Chicago, and we need to put a fucking stop to it. He has everything on lock. Even some of these so-called blue collared boys out there are in on it. I don’t know it for a fact, but I have a hunch. We have been after the mob in Chicago for years, and we are just figuring out who the heads of the families are. We never can get the concrete evidence to back anything up, since we never had an undercover officer as good as you. That is where you come into play.”

  I reached for a couple more papers and pulled them out of the folder. I read the details about Tony Dellucci and his family and the things they were supposedly involved in. Everything from racketeering to intimidation, to murder for hire and a laundry list of other things.

  Captain O’Malley’s voice rumbled again like an empty stomach as he spoke. “A few names you need to familiarize yourself with; Chase Romero, Maria, Luca and Nico Dellucci and um,” he snapped his fingers to recollect a thought, “that’s right, Carina Dellucci. We think that is his daughter, but we are yet to draw the connections there.”

  I slid the papers back into the folder and stood up. “Alright, I got it.”

  “I know you do, Harrison. That is why I put you on this case. You are head and shoulders above the detective right behind you, so I know you are the best man for the job. Get inside. Get what we need to put them and the rest of his family away, and get the fuck out of there alive.”

  I nodded my head, and as I went to the door, he spoke up once again. “Meet up with Stephanie at the front. She has your keys and the location of the spot we picked out for you to do your undercover work out of. You should like it. It is a lot better than that piece of shit you live in right now.”

  I paused for a moment. “Alright, Captain. I’ll get right on it.”

  I closed the door behind me, tucked the folder under my arm and walked to the front of the precinct to get the location of my next assignment. As I walked out of the main room, I could see Mason glaring at me with an uneasy glance like he knew I was getting ready to go into uncharted territory. I ignored his glare and continued to the front of the building. I had a fucking job to do.

  Chapter 3

  Carina

  I stood in front of the mirror, tryi
ng to adjust my dress over my hips. I cupped my breasts, then shook my head. Why couldn’t I have large breasts like Freya? I look terrible in this dress. I quickly snatched it off and tossed it into a growing pile near my closet. It was the fourth dress that I tried on since I had gotten out of the shower. I grabbed my phone off my bed and scrolled through until I landed on Freya’s number, debating whether I should call her and cancel. I knew she wouldn’t stand for it though. She was liable to come over and make a scene until she got me out of the house. That was just the kind of friend she was.

  Begrudgingly, I tossed my phone back onto the bed and went into the closet to search for another outfit to wear. Two dresses and one mini-skirt later, I found something that I finally felt comfortable in. It was a little cocktail dress that I bought for a wedding, a couple of years ago.

  The red dress hugged my hips like saran wrap with a small slit up the left side. It was cut low in the front, making my small b-cups look a tad bit larger than they actually were. I looked at the mirror and started to second guess myself. Screw this shit, I’m not going, I thought. Just as I picked up my phone to call Freya, I heard my doorbell ring. It was almost 9 pm, and I knew it was her. I huffed, rolled my eyes and stormed to the front door. She met me with a smile and invited herself in.

  “Girl, are you ready to have some fun tonight?” She pranced into the front room and removed a half-pint of liquor from her purse, along with two shot glasses, then sat down on the couch.

  “I brought my own things because I know you only have coffee mugs and energy drinks in your fridge.” She paused. “Hmm, you know what? Those energy drinks might be a good combination for this liquor. Kitchen, right?”

  She started into the kitchen as I called out to her. “Freya?” She ignored me, singing one of Beyoncé’s songs off key. I heard her open the refrigerator door, then slam it closed. Cabinet doors slammed shut moments later, and suddenly, she reappeared from the kitchen with two glasses in her hand, along with two cans of energy drinks. “This is perfect! Come on, I’m going to pour you a drink. We need to pre-game.”

  I sat down on the couch. “I’m not going, Freya.”

  She seemed to ignore me as she mixed a good amount of liquor into our cups with the energy drink. She slid it in front of me, then made herself a drink.

  “Freya? Did you hear me? I said I am not going.” She continued singing as the energy drink cascaded into the glass until it filled three-fourths of the way up.

  She put it to her lips and took a swallow. “This is perfect! I should be a bartender part-time or something because this is one of the best drinks I’ve ever made.”

  “Freya! I said I am not going.” I snapped.

  “Yeah, yeah, I heard you, but I am not paying any attention to that right now. I’m already here, you’re already dressed. We are going. Besides, Jade, Rhea, and Margo will be meeting us up there, so they are expecting you.” I didn’t say a word. Jade, Rhea and Margo had all become close friends with Freya and I since we started working at the same school together.

  Freya placed her glass on the table and faced me. Her lip gloss reflected a dull shine beneath the lights in the front room. “Alright, Carina, what is wrong?”

  I shook my head, then exhaled. “I look like crap, Freya. I tried on a thousand dresses until I found one that I feel halfway comfortable in and even now, I still feel like I look like shit.”

  She looked at me blankly. Her eyelashes batted like butterfly wings. Her lips pushed to the side of her mouth, and finally, she sucked in a breath. “You are insane, Carina. Seriously. You are one of the most gorgeous women I know, and you’ve got one thing I wished I had. Hips and a nice ass. Every-freakin’ Kim Kardashian in the world is paying for what you already have. Those damned Italian genes must be gold mines.” I rolled my eyes at her and crossed my arms over my chest.

  “Carina, a night like this is what you need,” Freya said and she placed her hands lightly on my shoulders. “Get around some guys your age so they can help you realize how beautiful you are. And who knows? You may just find someone you like.”

  I pushed her on her arm. “Shut up, Freya. I am not going out to find someone. I am just going out because I know you won’t let me stay in this house.”

  “Damn straight.” She grabbed my glass and handed it to me. “Now, drink up because I’d rather not have to pay for too many drinks tonight.” I took a deep breath, then grabbed the drink. The strong stench of liquor stained my nostrils and forced me to wince as soon as it got close. Freya let out a laugh.

  A small smile spread across my face and I finally tilted the cup to my mouth. The liquor burned my throat on the way down. I clenched my eyes tight as Freya burst out into laughter.

  I smiled and put the cup to my lips again, swallowing a few more gulps from the glass. Soon after, we climbed into her car and headed for Luzano’s. It was a popular bar in downtown Chicago that most people in their twenties spent their weekends.

  The music pumped as soon as we got in. The base vibrated the walls. Lights flashed on the dancefloor as hookah smoke clouded the air. Freya grabbed my hand and pulled me close, yelling into my ear so I could hear her above the music.

  “Stay close,” she said.

  The liquor had already gotten me to a place I needed to be. My tolerance wasn’t extremely high because I hadn’t been a heavy drinker since my college days. Jade, Rhea, and Margo were seated at a table on the side of the room.

  “Oh, my god! Look who Freya pulled out of the fucking dungeon!” Jade shouted as she stood up, smiling from ear to ear. “You look good without that fucking school teacher shit on,” she said as she wrapped her arms around me.

  Jade was much shorter than the rest of us, even with her high heels on, but she was cute as a button. Long, black hair flowed to the middle of her back, and two dimples engulfed her cheeks as she smiled.

  “Not you too,” I said,

  We laughed out loud as the music thumped around us. I nestled into the booth next to Margo as she leaned over and kissed me on the cheek. We all worked together at Madison Prep and had formed a good bond over the last couple of years.

  I glanced throughout the room. People held drinks in their hands as they danced on the main floor. Smiles flashed onto their faces as Freya and Jade spoke between each other. Just then, a waiter approached our table with drinks on a platter. He slid them in front of us as we all made eye-contact with each other.

  “Um, sir? We didn’t order any drinks,” Freya spoke up.

  “Yeah, I know. These drinks are on that group of gentlemen over there.” He pointed to a table of three guys. One of them waved at us as the waiter tucked the platter beneath his arm and walked away.

  “Well, ladies,” Freya smiled. “Cheers to our first drinks. But, as soon as they come over here and try to talk to us, I am married because they look like shit.”

  We all laughed and tapped our glasses together. I took a sip of my drink, but as soon as the liquor touched my tongue, I knew that as soon as I finished it, I would be as drunk as I’d been in years. I quickly sat the glass down. My eyes wandered around the room until they landed on a man seated at the bar. His hair was cut low, and his muscles bulged from beneath his white t-shirt. Even at my distance, his arms looked like boulders. The chatter around me seemed to fade. The words within the music was barely distinguishable. All I could do was look at him.

  Chapter 4

  Harrison

  I sat at the bar inside of Luzano’s, downing glasses of coke and rum. Captain O’Malley gave me my assignment earlier that day, and I picked up the keys to my new place, but I wasn’t expected to go undercover until the beginning of next week. My story was that I was the son of an Italian mobster looking to make some connections in the U.S. I had been living in Miami for the past few years, but as soon as I got wind of the Dellucci family, I wanted to come this way and talk business. I could play that façade with no effort involved, but for now, I just wanted to relax and take my mind off things before I went undercover
because as soon as that happened, my life as Harrison was over for the time being.

  The bartender smiled at me as she leaned across the bar. Her shirt fell forward as she leaned, allowing me to see the black bra that kept her breasts in place.

  “Can I get you another drink?” she asked, lifting her voice above the music.

  After I nodded my head, she gently grabbed my glass, brushing her hand against mine in the process. I watched her walk away from me as more people filed into the bar. I didn’t go out much, but when I did, I was always alone. I didn’t have many friends that I would hang out with on a regular basis.

  For some reason, I was always more comfortable by myself. I chalked it up to my childhood. I was always a loner, and I know it had a lot to do with the fact that I was an only child. For most people, it would push them into the arms of others, but for me, I had become comfortable in my solitude.

  Seconds later, the bartender slid another glass of coke and rum in front of me. I nodded my head and just as she fixed her lips to speak to me again, another patron grabbed her attention. I could tell she was annoyed, but with as much patience as she could muster, she held up one finger towards me, then went to assist the other customer. I took a sip of the dark liquor, mixed with a hint of coke. It was strong, but I could drink alcohol like a fish and still not feel the effects of it. My tolerance was that of a giant, and for that reason, I always spent more than I wanted to when I went out.

  I felt someone bump into me from behind. I spun around with daggers in my eyes to see who it was.

  The man held up his hands, “I’m sorry,” he slurred over the music, “I’m sorry, man.” He put his hand on my shoulder and leaned closer to me. The liquor escaped his breath with each intoxicated word he spoke, “I can barely fucking keep one foot in front of the other. I’m sorry, man. Please don’t fucking kill me. You look like you would kill someone. Don’t… don’t kill me, alright?”