It’s Harley, and she’s wearing her uniform. I hold the gun to my side and walk to her.
“What are you doing here, wearing that?” I ask.
Harley balls her fists up and presses them to my chest. Water trickles between my pecs, running down the back of her hand.
“We have to do something,” Harley says, fervently. “We have to do something now.”
I grab a t-shirt from the chair and pull it on. The cotton sticks to my damp skin. What is it now? I think, raking my hands through my hair.
Harley’s shaking. I lead her to the couch, and sit her down.
“I fucked up, Vince. You were right. It’s all closing in on us.”
“What happened?” I say, more sternly than I mean too.
Harley takes a deep breath, then spills everything. She tells me all about Jean Linden, the woman who adopted Honor, filing a missing person report.
“She was trying to intimidate you,” I say.
“What will happen if the other cops find out I’ve been working behind their back?”
“Hopefully you’ll only lose your job.”
“Hopefully?” Harley buries her face in hands, rubbing her face. “What if they find out I was working with you?”
I clench my back teeth, keeping the words from forming on my tongue. I know how the cops work. They’d plant evidence, set me up somehow, and get me on phony charges.
Harley purses her lips with determination. “I don’t care if they fire me. We can’t let them get away with this. We have to do something now, Vince.”
“I can work something out. Come up with a deal.”
Harley shakes her head, furiously. “No,” she says, resolutely. “Call your brothers. Attack the Donovans. And put down every cop that stands in your way.”
“I wish it was that easy.”
Harley jumps to her feet, pulling her hair. “Of course it’s not fucking easy.”
I stand up beside her and grab her wrist. “You want me to put my family at risk? To get them killed?”
Harley wrenches her arm away from me. “I’m tired of you and everyone else saying the right thing to do is impossible. There has to be a way.”
There is something, a possibility that’s appeared at the edge of my thoughts, but do I really have the balls to go through with it? I loop my arm around Harley’s waist, and pull her close to me.
“There’s something we can do,” I whisper in her ear. “We can go away, together. Leave all of this behind.”
Harley turns slightly towards me. Since she doesn’t outright reject the idea, so I push it further.
“There’s a place we can go,” I say. “It’s warm there, and there’s not many people. We can be together.”
Harley lets out an audible breath. She rests her forehead against my chest. “We can’t just leave.”
“We can.”
“What about everyone else? Honor, the other women?”
I reach down and grab her ass, pulling her tighter against me. “We’ll take care of ourselves for a change.”
I stroke her hair back. Her eyes are soft, contemplative. I know she’s considering my proposal, thinking about how easy our lives could be, to leave this drama behind and just have each other. I also know she’ll never take me up on it. She stands on her tiptoes and kisses my neck. She sinks back down on her heels, shaking her head.
The moment is interrupted by the sound of Harley’s phone. When she looks at it, her face falls even more. I growl inadvertently as a fierce protective streak overcomes me.
“Who’s that?” I ask.
“Just my dad,” Harley says, trying, and failing, to act casually.
“Just your dad,” I repeat. It seems like that’s the only person that ever texts her. And when he does, Harley’s mood always drop. With everything else going on, I have a sudden suspicion she’s lying to me. “Who is that?” I ask again.
“My dad. I told you that.” She waves the phone in front of my face. She shakes her head to herself, then begins texting back. I snatch the phone from her to see for myself. “Hey! What the hell?” she says.
The contact in her phone is labelled ‘Dad.’
I’m looking at the calendar. Your mother and I want to come visit soon and meet this Vince character.
I squeeze the phone so hard I hear the glass tense beneath my grip. I’m not sure how to respond to this. I look at Harley blankly.
“You told your parents about me?”
My voice echoes dark and hollow in my head. It’s a normal thing, to tell your parents about the person you’re seeing, but it doesn’t fit when that person is me. Maybe what Harley and I have can never be normal.
“I told them,” Harley admits. “But I didn’t tell them who you are, I promise. I told them your name was Vince Romando.”
I slip the phone back into Harley’s hand.
“You lied to your parents because of me.”
Harley snorts in a half laugh. “You told me not to tell anyone what we were doing.”
I look down at my hands, calloused, with deep etched lines. How many times have I seen these very hands covered in blood? Too many times to count. I’m not the kind of guy Harley should be with. She could never take me to her white picket fenced in home town. Her parents wouldn't sip iced tea with me on the their front porch, or invite me to their Fourth of July barbecues. I couldn’t fit in to her normalcy. I don’t deserve to.
Harley takes a slow step towards me, and softly calls my name. I cup her face in my hands, and lightly kiss her cheek.
That night, when Harley goes to bed, I stay up. She asks if I’ll come to bed soon. I tell her I will, but the truth is, I haven’t decided if I will or not. Maybe I’ll let her sleep in my bed alone, spare her from sleeping beside a murderer. Harley’s too good, too pure. She’s motivated exclusively by her moral center, and puts everyone else before herself. No matter how hard I try, I can’t make this fit, not when I’m pitch black on the inside.
Weeks ago, I’d cleaned out all of the alcohol from my apartment. I regret that now. I look at the clock, estimating how much time it would take to get to the closest liquor store.
So you’ll just give up. Walk away.
Even if I know it’s the right thing to do, it feels impossible. My feelings for Harley have sharp hooks embedded in every one of my organs. If I try to rip it out too fast, I’ll bleed out and die.
Maybe I’ll just kill every motherfucker who stands in my way, I think, gritting my teeth.
I’m considering slipping into bed beside Harley, and pressing my hard cock against her warm ass, when I hear my buzzer go off. It sounds only briefly, like someone pressed it downstairs, then ran off quickly.
Who the fuck is that at this time of night? My glock is on the table beside me. I grab it up, then go check on Harley. She’s sleeping peacefully, with her bare legs tangled in the sheets. I promise myself I’ll have those legs wrapped around my waist soon, then go check things out downstairs.
There’s no one in the lobby, or on the street. In front of the door is a large envelope with my initials on it. I take another wary look around, then rip the envelope open.
It’s a thick stack of photographs, all of Harley and me. It seems like anytime we were together, someone was following us. There are photos of us talking, and other, more incriminating ones of us kissing or hugging. If the other families find out I’m in a relationship with a cop that’s not on the payroll, the reaction would be swift. And if my brothers found out, they’d disavow me completely.
But those aren’t the photos that send adrenaline pumping through my veins, and the urge to tear someone apart to the bones with my hands. There are photos of Harley all by herself, in her apartment, in cafes, the grocery store, at work. She looks so vulnerable, so out in the open. Someone could attack her, and I wouldn’t be there to protect her.
I hold the stack of photos over my head, and rip them in half. My face turns red from the effort, and veins bulge in the side of my neck. I know whatever pie
ce of shit that dropped this packet at my door is still around, watching to make sure I got it.
“Hey,” I yell into the inky darkness. “Show yourself.”
I toss the shredded photos, and they scatter in the wind, scuttling randomly across the sidewalk. After a few silent moments, I spot a figure coming down the block. He’s walking slowly with his gaze cast down. He wears a long trench coat, and expensive dress shoes. When he gets closer I see it’s Larry Donovan. I grip my glock tighter, thinking I should just blast this motherfucker into oblivion.
Larry stops a couple of feet in front of me. He looks me over, then his lips curl in disgust.
“Your father would be so disappointed,” he says.
I don’t think. I just react. I hurl my fist forward, smashing right into his solar plex. His soft flesh wraps around my hand as the breath is knocked out of him. Larry doubles over gasping.
“Don’t ever talk about my father again,” I warn.
I grab the back of his collar, pull him upright, and show him my gun.
“You’ve got a little photography hobby?” I ask. “You’ve been following me?” I cock the gun, and press the barrel into the back of his head. Right now, I’ve lost the will to give a fuck, and nothing would please me more than the sight of Donovan’s brains splattered in an abstract pattern on the brick wall.
Larry coughs, and forces a calm smile.
“I’m not alone, you know,” he says. He gestures to the street. I don’t see anyone, but of course they’re there, waiting. If I kill Larry, they’ll kill me, and then probably Harley.
I shove Larry forward, letting him go. He brushes off his trench coat and stands up straight.
“Animal,” Larry snarls. “Men like your father and I conducted business with a mutual respect for each other.”
“My father wouldn’t have any respect for filth like you. The Donovans have crawled out of the gutter, and infested these streets. My father would destroy you before you ever knew what happened.”
“And you?” Larry says, raising his eyebrow. “I know what you’ve been doing, kid. You’re trying to fuck with my income, all while sitting around with your dick in your hand. That’s not how we do things.”
“How do we do things then, huh? We prey on young women and girls, force them to sell their bodies, all for a profit?”
Saying those words make me sick to my stomach. With a growl, I spit in Larry’s face. Saliva drips down his eye. He wipes it off with a cocky smile.
“You’re all soft, that’s what it is,” Larry says. “You think every asshole on earth deserves a nice, cushy life. Let me educate you, kid. No one’s entitled to anything. If you want it, you’ve got to take it. There’s winners, and there’s losers.”
“Is that what you tell yourself? Instead of winners and losers, I’d say there’s right and wrong.”
“You have no idea just how ignorant you are.” Larry chuckles, patting me heartily on the back. “In light of your naiveté, I’m willing to overlook your digressions and make a deal. I understand you have one of our girls. No big loss, really. That one in particular was a real bitch. Used to bite the guys.”
“Good for her,” I say, thoroughly meaning it.
“Jean wanted me to track her down, drag her back, kicking and screaming. But I think we can come to some sort of agreement.”
“Agreement?” I laugh, darkly.
“That’s right. This is how men do business. Men, not boys. A little give and take. It’s how the world goes around. So here’s what I can do. The girl has family in California. Send her out there. I’ll buy her plane ticket and everything.” He raises his hands, wiping them clean. “We’ll leave her alone.”
“And what do you want in return?”
“You will end this unholy alliance with the cops. Do you understand what you’re doing? You’re threatening the tenuous balance between people like you and me and the pigs. You’re going to ruin everything. What would your father think of you destroying his legacy, just to get your dick wet?”
At the risk of being shot by unseen snipers, I flit my elbow up, knocking him in the nose. It’s not hard enough to cause any blood to show, but I feel something crack and shift in his face. Larry covers his swollen nose with his hand.
“I’m a forgiving man, but you’re pushing it,” he says.
“So you think I’m just going to walk away, let you keep doing what you’re doing?”
“You misunderstand me. I don’t expect you to walk away at all. Just respect the way we do things. This town belongs to the families. We own these streets. We police ourselves.” He juts his chin up towards my window. “Get your dog off the case.”
“You’re asking me to kill you. You got a suicide wish or something?”
Larry smirks. “If you want to go to war, we’ll go to war. But be warned, our numbers have grown considerably. You Romanos aren’t the toughest family on the block anymore. It’s time you got used to it.”
“What do you know about my family?”
“Plenty, especially since your cowardly approach to take me down. Look, take my advice. You’re a good looking kid. You can find another girl.” He gestures to my window again. “Let that one go.”
“And if I don’t?”
“Then I’ll let my guys loose on her. A few of them have a little crush on Harley after watching her for so long. They’re itching to fuck her before they kill her.”
I puff my chest out, and raise my fist to strike him.
“That’s enough,” Larry says. “Attack me again, and I’ll give the signal to my guys.” He pulls up the collar of his trench coat, and turns to walk away. “Think about it, Vince. Make the right choice.”
————————
It’s my own fucking fault. I never should’ve gotten Harley wrapped up in this. I never should’ve even spoken to her, let alone fucked her, or developed feelings for her. I should have stayed away, no matter how good, or how right, her body felt against mine. I shouldn’t have let my cock do the thinking. I’m not a real boss. My head isn’t clear. Nothing I’ve done is rational. Pop would be disappointed.
I stay on the street for a long time after Larry leaves. I think about going after him, cornering him in a dark alley, and squeezing his neck between my hands until the light leaves his eyes. I don’t give a fuck if they kill me. What stops me is knowing what they’ll do to Harley.
Instead of going back upstairs, I walk straight to the liquor store, where I buy a fifth of the first clear liquor I see. I bring it back to my apartment, grab a glass from the cabinet, then sit at the counter and pour myself a drink. I pick up the glass, swirling the colorless liquid around before I drink it down in one gulp. If I can’t have her, this is the next best thing, but it’s not a close second.
Once I start, I can’t stop. I’m nearly halfway through the bottle when the first rays of dawn penetrate the windows. I hear the soft padding of Harley’s footsteps. I tighten my grip around my glass, feeling like I’m being torn apart.
She’s naked, except for the sheet she holds around her body. Her hair is ruffled, and her eyes heavy with sleep.
“You didn’t come to bed,” she says, walking up to me and stroking my shoulders.
I don’t look at her, but I feel her gaze land on the half empty bottle of liquor.
“Vince,” she whispers, her voice tempered with worry. “I thought you quit. For me. I thought you didn’t need it anymore.”
She bends down and her lips touch my cheek. I turn away from her. She doesn’t understand. To be with me is suicide.
“You can talk to me. You don’t need this.” Harley reaches for the bottle, but I catch her wrist, holding it. Her eyes widen.
“You need to leave, Harley. Get out of my apartment. And don’t come back.”
“You’re drunk,” she says, accusingly. “You don’t mean that.”
“You don’t think I mean that?” I grip her wrist harder. “I can’t be with you, a cop, and a fucking do-gooder at that. You think you
want to help people? You just want to make yourself feel better, to fool yourself into believing you’re not worthless.”
Where has my fucking filter gone? It’s been washed away with the alcohol. I hate to see the hurt in her eyes, but I feel like my harshness is necessary. I have to make her not want to stay.
“Where is this coming from?” Her voice is a whisper that comes from the middle of her chest. She’s shaking now, and her eyes are glistening. “Why are you saying this?”
“Because it’s over, okay? Our job is done.”
“What does that mean?”
I explain, in curt, slurring speech, that Honor will be fine. I tell her about the deal with Donovan to send her away.
“What about the others?” she asks, weakly.
I drain the contents of my glass, coughing as it burns its way down. “The others are on their fucking own. There’s nothing we can do.” I look her in the eyes. “You can’t go against them, Harley. It’s not going to happen.”
Harley hardens her face, even as a tear falls from her eyes. “You’d make a deal with that filth?”
I shake my head. “You have no idea how the world works.”
Harley twists the sheet into a tight knot around her chest. “I was wrong about you. I can’t believe how wrong I was.” She makes for the hallway, then stops short. “And I do know how the world works. That doesn’t mean I have to accept it.”
She stops down the hallway, and disappears into the bedroom for a while. When she emerges, she’s fully dressed in her uniform. Her face is covered with red streaks, and her eyes are swollen. I force myself not to look at her. If I do, I’m afraid I won’t let her go.
“Do you mean it?” she asks, standing by the door. “You don’t want to be with me anymore?”
I stare into my glass, watching the ripples across the surface of the clear liquid. I nod.
“Look at me, Vince. Tell me to my face.”
The muscles in my stomach contract into a hard, dense ball. I turn around, and stare right at her.
“Get out. I don’t want to see you again.”
Accomplice: A Dark Mafia Romance (Romano Brothers Book 3) Page 12