Lost Girl

by Elena Trueblood

  “I probably really shouldn’t have kissed you like that. Not that I regret it, I just know it’s been one hell of a day for you…”

  “Amen,” I mutter, and finally I take a step back and he lets me go, “Let’s dole out this punishment so I can take you and Angel up on your standing offer of stealing a room at your place.” I relight the torch.

  Bones chuckles, “You had me hopeful there for a second.”

  I can’t help the laugh that escapes, “Come on…and you’re lucky I love you enough to just roll with this instead of freak out and make this awkward as fuck.”

  He ruffles my hair, and moves out of the way quickly when I go to hit him with my free hand, “If I thought you’d start acting weird around me I wouldn’t have done it. But I know that even if you turn me down, we’ll always be cool,” his voice is confident and something about that confidence sends chills down my spine, but I hide it.

  I bump my shoulder with his, or at least attempt to with the height difference.“As the flip side of the pillow, Bones, the flip side.”

  Bones just rolls his eyes at me, but I see the small smile playing at the corners of his lips.

  Then I move away to gain so much needed distance. Gotta have it to make safe rational decisions, because if I’m being honest it’s been a hot minute since I’ve been looked like a woman, held or kissed like one either. If I’m being honest, I haven’t let anyone close to me since dating Wick, and that was before I’d ever met Angel in the early days of the crew.

  I quickly lock all thoughts about Wick down, those thought never lead anywhere productive and honestly just tend to bring more pain to the forefront of my mind and I don’t need any more of that today.

  “So you ready to ruin his pristine white paint?”

  “I've been waiting to use this as a punishment for so long I've dreamed about it. We both know that I find his love of minimalism drives me up the wall.”

  Bones can’t help but laugh because he knows just how true it is.

  Cobra’s penthouse is a minimalist hell that I purposely fuck up every time I enter his home, weather by bringing something obnoxiously colored, or moving all of his shit around, I can’t stand the white on black look of his home.

  “Well, I’ll stand over here while you fulfill our dreams,” Bones says as he goes back to his position against the warehouse, calling Rosary to sit at his feet.

  I tip an imaginary hat at Bones and set to the task, torch in hand and head to the white paint job and start drawing. I take my time.

  I start with drawing flames into the paint near the wheel wells and the trunk. The paint puckers and darkens, but I know what I’m doing and never let the flame stay in one spot long enough to do any damage to the actual frame of the car. I’m not that cruel.

  Just as I’m about to start on the lettering, the others finally come out of the warehouse. The moment Cobra sees, he stops still, but it's not his reaction that is the most shocking.

  It's Alonzo and Giovani's that's shocking, as Alonzo drops to his knees in blatant horror of the sight, and Giovani is pissed. He rushes forward, rage flowing off him in waves.

  Before he can interfere with what I’m doing, which is quickly Giovani’s intention by the way he squares his shoulders, Bones steps in the way, his large frame, dark skin in stark contrast to Giovani’s light olive skin.

  “You're just going to let her do that to that living piece of fucking history?” Giovani says, but I’m too focused on my work and just decide to listen.

  When Bones speaks its obvious he finds the concern over a car ridiculous, “Ah, got ourselves another car junky huh? I'm sure you and Cobra will be fast friends, unless you like to argue specs, then you might hate each other if you don't agree with him.”

  Giovani ignores Bones’ attempt at humor. “She needs to be stopped.”

  “Cobra knew what the consequences were when he decided to lie. She's chosen his punishment. She doesn't have to stop anything.” Bones’ voice holds an edge to it, like he’s waiting for Giovani to challenge him.

  Giovani doesn’t take the hint. “It's okay for her to act like a petulant child who didn't get her way?”

  Bone’s voice is a cold anger as he says, “You don't know anything about her, about why she is the way she is, stick around long enough and you'll realize that whatever damage she is doing now is minimal to what she could do. Count your blessings.”

  Alonzo doesn't move. Instead, he starts a rapid string of Italian, and by the familiar pattern, it must have be a catholic prayer of some sort. I notice Tony trying to pull Giovani away and when Giovani turns his back to me Bones and I share a look of rolled eyes and exasperation before I turn back to my handywork.

  “So, what did you find out?” Giovani startles me, now standing nearer to the car than before. I let the torch go out before I look at him fully.

  “Huh?” I ask, not caring if I seem stupid. I have too much flying around my head to know what he’s talking about without him being direct.

  “From Vin?” is all he says.

  I can’t help the dark chuckle that escapes, “Ahh, well their plan had been to kidnap me and take me to the head of their family. There seems to be some misconception as to where, or more like to whom I belong,”

  Alonzo cuts me off, “You are my daughter.”

  I don’t stop the eye roll, because, really?

  “Not that I don't appreciate the vote of confidence in my paternity, that's not what I was meaning. No, apparently, his father is under the impression that I'm supposed to be his son's wife. What I find hilarious is the fact that Mom had already left with me, so why he’d even,” I start, but cut myself off as a look passes across Alonzo’s face.

  “Well, technically,” he says.

  My head whips around to look at him fully, because at this point the man should have figured out to give any information to me as soon as possible, rather than later.

  “Excuse me?” my voice is clipped.

  My tone causes Alonzo to finally notice the murderous look in my eyes, causing him to speak quickly.

  “Don't look at me like that. That was a deal your grandfather made with the Russo family before the families had switched heads. Both your mother and I were disgusted with this so-called mandate, and I told my father that he could play with his own life, not the life of my daughter. It was one of the reason's I didn't look so hard for you growing up. I'm not surprised that she decided keeping you hidden was for the best.” A shadow passes over his gaze and he shakes himself out a little, before continuing, “Your grandfather was a vindictive old man, and to be told no by a woman he hadn't exactly approved of was a sore spot with him until the day he passed.”

  What the hell kind of world am I being dragged into? Like, crew life isn’t for everyone, but this, this shit is a whole other level of fucked.

  I shake my head and lift both of my hands in the sign of surrender, because I’ve officially hit my limit of fucked situations for the day. Honestly, I’ve hit my limit on fucked situations for a fucking lifetime, but I realize that I am not lucky enough to have this be then end of these ridiculous situations.

  No, there will be more bullshit, but for the day, I am done.

  “Ya know, I've had enough for the day. I thought doling out a little of my punishment would make me feel better, but between you,” I point to my father and Giovani, “bitching and moaning about a fucking ruined paint job, and finding out that my grandfather thought it was acceptable to use my LIFE as collateral for a gamble... you took all the chill I had finally found about this fucked situation and dumped ice shit all over it.” I hug Cobra before starting to head behind the warehouse where the truck was parked, Rosary fast on my heels.

  Throwing over my shoulder, “Bones, I'll be in the truck.”

  Alonzo tries to stop me with questions, concern peppering his voice and I find it grates down the back of my neck, and I hold back a verbal tongue lashing because he just doesn’t seem to get that I am punching my time card in on his dram
a.

  “But what if I need to contact you? Where are you going?”

  I don’t even stop to turn around as I lift a hand over my head in a dismissive gesture. “You have Cobra's number right? He'll figure it out.”

  Bones

  We are all left staring after Priest, the enforcers in awe and Cobra and I smirking, as this is a common occurrence for us. It’s her way of dealing with stress, and hell if she hasn’t had a fucking crazy last few hours.

  Alonzo still hasn’t got a clue. He’s staring after her like I’d imagine all fathers look after their teenage daughters who’ve dismissed them. With a weird combination of awe and anger at having been defined and dismissed so throughly.

  Luca whistles before muttering a “hot damn” under his breath that earns him an elbow from Giovani and side eye from Alex, who looks like he’s sizing Luca up.

  There isn’t much to size up, other than both of them being over 6 feet their builds are completely different. Luca is lean where Alex was muscular, Alex taller and broader, and the way he carried himself reminded me of an old boxer Cobra used to be friends with. While I take note of the odd zing of tension between them, their boss doesn’t notice. Instead he’s still staring after Priest.

  “Is she always like that?” he asks.

  Cobra doesn’t keep his laugh. “The type of life your bringing her into? Be prepared for it to happen a shit ton.”

  “Did you already know that the Russo’s were fucked in the brain and were gunning to take what they think is theirs?” I can’t hide the contempt in my voice. I don’t know if I ever want to be a father, mostly because I have no idea how to be a good one sing as my example isn’t a shining one until Cobra came into my life.

  But there is one thing I know for a fucking fact about myself. If I ever have kids I know I would never lie to them, and that I would protect them from the life I’ve lived as much as possible. Yet here Alonzo Conti is, doing a hell of a lot to drag his daughter into a family that cuts its teeth on some of the darkest organized crime this side of the Mason Dixon line.

  His eyes flash to me and I bare my teeth like the rabid animal he thinks me to be when I see the unfiltered hate that resides in his eyes. I don’t care what he thinks of me, he’ll just have to fucking deal.

  “I didn’t know it to be a definite possibility, but it was something I knew might come up,” he says through his clenched jaw.

  That earns him a look from all of his men, and I know they’ll be having a little discussion with their boss. Just by looking it looked like they might have a whole lot to discuss amongst themselves.

  I lock eyes with Tony, the one to have spent the most time with her now after sitting in on her session, and he nods his head at me. I don’t know the man at all, and a part of me wants to bristle at that nod, this easy acceptance of each other he’s handing me, but at the same time, it’s always nice to have a friend among the potential vipers pit we could be walking into.

  “Bones, you’d better get going, before she gets,” the sound of the truck’s shrill horn sounds in rapid secession as she sounds her agitation. “Impatient,” Cobra finishes, a small smile on his lips. I return Tony’s nod, pat Cobra on the shoulder in mock condolence of his car and jog off to the truck. My mind is quickly turns to that kiss.

  I shouldn’t have kissed her like that, but fuck I’m glad I did. If she thought I’d ever just let her walk away into this new life and leave me behind she had another thing coming, and if Cobra thought he could just hand her over he was sorely mistaken.

  When I get to the truck, I think about texting Angel to tell her about the confession and the kiss, but knowing Angel and her inability to not kiss and tell, she’d just end up calling me for details that I wouldn’t give her while trapped in the truck with the girl in question.

  Is it weird that I know a whole lot about Angel’s girlfriends, and the occasional boyfriend? Probably, but that’s just Angel. She can’t keep her mouth shut when it comes to juicy details, and she’s always been like that.

  I accepted our nontraditional relationship a long time ago, and found that being open about it was always better than not knowing. When I didn’t know, my mind would go to weird places, wondering if someone else was loving her better.

  It took me a solid year to realize that it has never been about loving her better. I’ve met every girlfriend she’s had and two out of the three boyfriends she’s had over the three years we’ve been together, and realized it was about loving her.

  Each partner she’s had has loved her differently, and after the way Angel was brought up, she just needed to be loved, deserved it as far as I’m concerned.

  I stow my phone in my pocket and hop into the truck. We’ll ditch it back at Misfits and then take my SUV home.

  “Wanna talk about it?” I ask as I maneuver the truck on to the road.

  She grabs a fist full of her hair and lets out a frustrated growl. I know that most people will never get to see this side of her, she hates for people to see her upset, but I’m thankful that she lets her hair down with me. Maybe I’m an egotistical ass but it makes me feel like she trusts me to love her regardless to when she randomly lets out animal growls and banshee shrieks of frustration, but I realize it probably has more to do with the fact that I grew up with her.

  “What is there to talk about? That my grandfather thought he could just bet me away? My father is as dense as a concrete block when it comes to daughters? That you kissed me like you could find your soul or spirit in my mouth?” she lets out a rush of a breath, releases her hair and looks down at Rose’s eyes, where she finds some calming force.

  “For today, can we just pretend that everything Conti related is off limits? I can handle trying to figure out what to do with you, or is it us? You know what I mean. I can handle figuring out my emotions, though it’s gonna take time and,”

  I resist the urge to chuckle.

  She reminds me of when she first got asked out by a boy after Lene had passed and came home to Cobra and I and was near a panic, over a high school crush.

  “Priest, take a breath, your rambling,” I cut her off.

  She looks at me, a small smile at the corner of her lips, and says, “You know what I mean.”

  And I do, so I keep driving, a natural silence between us as I let her get her head around this new world shift.

  When we get to Misfits, the bar is technically closed as it’s somewhere between seven and eight o’clock in the morning, but let’s be real, this is our bar, so Sage is waiting at the back entrance.

  “I’ll just stay back here with Rosary,” Priest says when I stop the car. I hand her the keys to my SUV, and nod that she’s all good to get in.

  I act like I don’t notice the way she slumps her shoulders as she walks to my vehicle, Rosary looking at her much like a mother trying to figure out what to do to make her sad child smile.

  If only it were that easy, Rose, I can’t help but think.

  In the penthouse across town Priest raids Angel and I’s fridge without any sort of reservation, and I love that she’s comfortable enough in our space to do so. She comes and visits at least twice a week, enough that Angel had gotten Rosary a dog bed and all the doggy comforts in life, because, well that’s just the kind of woman Angel is.

  Our kitchen is all white and black with accents of teal and gold, another thing of Angels doing. I let the woman have her way in just about every aspect of our lives.

  Rosary is ever-present, there was no reason nor anyway that Priest was going to leave her little pup at home, so she’s curled up in a ball in a corner of the penthouse.

  I’m watching all of this from my gym room on the television set to our security cameras, mostly because I want to make sure Priest isn’t going to freak out about the kiss, or her new found dad, or her new responsibilities. But I’m not some creepy ass peeping tom. One, because this is my house, and two, I told Priest I was going to do this, and explained why.

  She just laughs and shakes her head.
>
  Angel walks in from the front door, wearing very little as she is getting home from a shift at the high end burlesque lounge that Cobra invested in. I watch as Angel doesn’t look up as she walks into the penthouse, and pulls off her high heels and lets one clunk to the floor.

  “Hey Ang! You hungry?” Priest calls from the kitchen, head partially in the refrigerator.

  I almost drop the bar bells I’m lifting watching the expression on Angel’s face at the sound of Priest voice. The shock is evident but so is the wonder.

  Angel stops and stands still for a moment and then pops her head around the corner of the little foyer, as she says, “Priest? Yeah, I'm actually starving!”

  Priest pulls her head out of the fridge to respond, “Good, cause I was hoping we could hang for a bit before I head to bed?”

  At that Angel’s whole face lights up, her dark blue eyes shining against her pale skin. “Yes! I've been needing some Priest and Angel time!”

  Priest chuckles as Angel pauses and looks contemplative, like she’s trying to figure out what’s missing, “Wait? Where's my man?”

  Priest gives a full laugh as she starts putting the ingredients for her what looks like her mother's Bajan Curry Beef, one of the many staples of our childhood.

  “You were so excited to see me, you forgot he existed, huh?” Priest’s laughter continues for a few moment and Angel just watches her, a soft on her lips. But I know Angel, know how good her ability to pick up on things is, so I’m not surprised when she asks, “You all good Priest?”

  Priest wipes her eyes, “Oh god, I didn't realize how badly I needed that. Bones is doing his workout.”

  Angel perspective as always, nods understandably, “I take it was a long night at the ‘office’?”

  Priest deliberately turns back into the fridge, and I note the way her spine stiffens, “You have no fucking clue. You okay with Curry Beef?” she asks, as she gestures at the ingredients she’s pulled out of the fridge, “I know it’s probably weird as shit to be cooking it at 9 in the morning, but neither Bones and I got to eat dinner, and I’m not really feeling breakfast.”