Chapter 1

"Dolce Casa Café"

Story contains language and scenarios that some people may find offensive.

Please use discretion when reading.

Also – there is no disrespect intended toward any ethnic background or sexual orientation mentioned in this story. The story takes place mostly on the north side of Chicago and I apologize for anything north side residents might find offensive. North siders are great – their community is very laid back and in general they are very opened minded and welcoming people.

Thanks for giving this story a try.

P.S. No copy infringement is intended – just having a little 'fun' with the characters. SM owns all…except for the smut….that's all me. SWAK!

XO

CoMeKiTtY

"Are you fucking hearing me?"

That fucking accusatory tone had my knuckles turning white from gripping the steering wheel so hard. I didn't dare loosen my fucking grip, cuz this mother fucker was gonna be seeing out the back of his head he keeps this shit up. Inhaling sharply and running a hand through my hair, I worked to keep the little fucking patience I had left after listening to this jamook for the last fucking hour.

"Yeah, I heard you," I replied flatly. Now shut the fuck up before I throw your ass out the door.

Emmett's face heated with anger as he pounded his fist on the dashboard of my escalade.

"Bull shit! Bull. Fucking. Shit! You haven't heard a fucking word I said!"

That was it. The last of my patience flew out the window and I snapped.

"Because you haven't said shit!" I looked over at the passenger side to gage his reaction and jabbed my index finger into his fucking arm as I repeated myself for emphasis.

"You haven't said shit!"

Before that fucking mouth had a chance to disagree, I quickly continued.

"No. Just shut your fucking mouth for once and listen! I heard you – fuck the whole north side heard you – the numbers are good.

But you know what, Em? That's not good enough! His word? It don't mean shit! Deep down you know I'm fucking right."

Coming to a stoplight along Damen Ave., I lit a smoke and looked my brother in the eyes to emphasize my next words.

"You. You more than anyone else knows this."

I let the weight of that statement hang in the air.

I didn't need to say more – he knew what I was getting at.

Paul – short little prick who grew up on the south side and thought he knew better. Him and Emmett were tight. Being a top earner didn't mean shit though cuz Paul made his own fucking rules. He started out keeping the sports books. Then got a crew together working delivery trucks and pulling off safe jobs. This prick was pulling in forty to fifty G's a week. Jobs that big don't go unnoticed and word gets around fast. Started spending more than half that on blow and getting sloppy. And that ain't good for no one. Didn't take too long for that slippery little fuck to get called in. Paul told 'em to go fuck themselves. Just like that. Go fuck yourself. No remorse. Crazy fucking bastard. Really though, what could he say? He knew he fucked up and wasn't getting a pass. His time was up. And just like that they put a bullet in his head. Dumped the body in the Chicago River. Police wrote it off as drug related. And that was that. No more Paul.

His dark eyes narrowed, clouding with anger. His voice, thick with emotions and laced with malice, was barely recognizable.

"Fanabala."

"No. You go to hell. You don't know a God damned thing about Riley. He's a fuck-up and an empty suit. His loyalties are to no one but himself. He's fucking desperate. You know what desperate fucking gets you?"

He knew full well what desperate got you. Although my words were unnecessary, I continued,

"It gets you fucking dead."

The silence in the car was fucking pissing me off. I wanted to blow off my own piece just to hear something. Fuck anything.

I trusted that strunz about as far as I could throw him. And that wasn't fucking far.

"Jesus Christ! This isn't a fuck you. Riley don't know nothing from nothing. We do this? We do this right. We check the numbers. If we see it checks out, we go. But not until we check it out first. Look at me…."

I looked him square in the eyes.

"You don't fucking eat alone. Ever. That's bull shit. Unless you want to be put to sleep with a serious fucking headache. The kind asprin don't fix. You feel me? We do this? We do it on the fucking record. We give everyone a taste. And that includes Caius."

Emmett shakes his head in disagreement.

"Caius," his voice is thick with disgust. "He leaves. Just disappears for fourteen months. Don't say nothing to no one. Shows up one God damned day outta nowhere. Like he's been dropped outta the fucking sky or some shit. Where does he think he is? He can just come and go as he pleases? Fuck that shit." "This thing." He waved his fingers between us. "This is ours."

I snorted in exasperation. "You keep thinking like that – you'll be lucky if you're standing this side of the grass. We do this? We do this right. We pay our respects. It's the right fucking thing. And that includes Caius."

Emmett's only reply was a grunt and a shake of his head.

Emmett's my older brother and I fucking love him. But he's a greedy mother fucker and everyone knows it. He's gotta be careful with that, greed don't buy you much here, except for a long walk to the deep six. Greed has no place in a family. In a business like this, one hand washes the other, both hands wash the face, and if one hand fucks the other – both hands are fucked.

It was tough loving Emmett, but Emmett needed tough love. The way I saw it tough love was better than a tough break. In the real world a tough break means a dock in pay. But this ain't the real world. This world is made up of superheroes in super suits that would kill you for shits and gigs on a Friday night.

I pulled into the small parking lot and let out a long breath. Raking my hands over my face, I let myself come down from our long business discussion. This conversation was tired shit. Same story different fucking day with this one.

"Well you big fucking Gavone, you haven't put anything in that hole for what – two hours? You must be fucking starving. Let's go."

And just like that the conversation was over and the mood lightened. And that's just Emmett. His enthusiasm for food wins out every time.

"Fuck yes! You know being hungry ruins my cheery disposition."

I snorted. "Come on, pussy."

We rounded the corner to a small café in Uptown that I've come to frequent often this past month. It's hard to believe it's only been a month. A month since everything went to shit and Sammy was whacked.

Sammy ran Uptown but he was talking to the Feds. Fucking rat. Carlisle had Marcus put the order out on the hit; had his boys take Sammy for a ride with a one way ticket. They drove his ass out to an empty lot scheduled for paving in the morning and handed him a shovel. He dug his own fucking grave before they forced him to his knees and put a bullet in his head execution style.

Now, in addition to Ravenswood, I also control the streets of Uptown.

"What is it with you and this place?"

The Dolce Casa Café didn't look like more than a hole in the wall – but they had the best fucking coffee on the north side.

"What?"

"What, what? Look around," he gestures to the to the people walking up the street. "all these coffee drinking fanooks walking around shooting sunshine up everyone's ass. I don't know. It's fucking weird is all."

"People are friendly here. So what?"

"I don't know. Maybe you're enjoying the sunshine a little too much, if you know what I mean…" he bats his eyes lashes at me, "sitting here sipping your nonfat, decaf iced honey vanilla fucking whatever latte."

"Get outta here with that shit! Stop busting my balls already. They got good coffee. "

"All I'm saying is, if you're gonna be…." Emmett lowers his voice and glances sideways, "coming here," he gestures to the street with a wave of his hand, "order a fucking coffee like a man. Quit being a mezza fanook with those foo-foo chick drinks you're always getting. You gotta be careful with that shit here. You want cream in your coffee…" he lets out a rolling laugh and pats me on the back, "I bet one of these fanooks be more than happy to give you a squirt."

"Shut the fuck up! Like I said the coffee is good. Period."

Among a few other things. I smiled to myself and reached down to adjust myself. Truth? Yeah the coffee was good but what kept me coming back was the hard on I had for the brunette waitress. She was fucking hot. Like smoke hot. Has this innocence about her that makes my dick ache. And yeah, I wanted to fuck her. I wanted to bend her over that counter she's always leaning on and fuck her till she screamed my name. The counter or the table or that red couch…as long as my dick was inside her it didn't fucking matter where.

But this ain't some skank-ho from the neighborhood looking to get theirs. And I don't do girlfriends. I don't need the added complications – all the ball busting and crying and carrying on 'bout being lonely and shit. I keep it simple. Get my rocks off and move on. With a few exceptions, there's rarely a repeat performance.

My attention is pulled away from Emmett to a sleazy looking guy leaning against the building smoking. He tries to play it off looking casual but his aggressive questioning and defiant stance says otherwise; and this is what has caught my attention. He moves closer to a very nervous looking employee from the café and relentlessly continues his interrogation. He stands at his full height looking down at the employee and jabs a finger into the employee's chest. Body language says a lot and I recognize his tactic as one I have used many times to glean information. It's intimidation – at its simplest form. I catch Bella's name more than once and wonder who this prick is to her. It's not my fucking business and I shouldn't give a fuck; yet I can't help wanting to drag that prick out to the street and let my foot meet the back of his head while his teeth are wrapped around the curb.

Emmett raised a curious eyebrow.

"What, you mother fuck? They do."

"Yeah? Who's the fucking pussy now?"

I shoved that big fucking ox in the shoulder, "Shut the fuck up, cacasenno. Let's go. I'm buying."

Taking my sunglasses off so my eyes could adjust, I did a quick scan of the small café. My eyes stopped on the petite brunette now leaning over the display of pastries. Among other things indeed. Who the fuck am I kidding? If she was offering? Yeah, I'd fuck her.

I took in her perfectly round bottom, swaying back and forth as she wiped down the glass. Fuck yes I groaned internally. I wanted to be that glass she was rubbing herself on. I heard more than felt my teeth clench as a groan rumbled deep in my throat and I felt my dick twitch. Marron! I wanted to sink my teeth into that cherry ass of her's and fucking bite it!

For a second time my hands raked across my face in frustration. This time my frustration had nothing to do with my jamook of a brother and everything to do with that tight ass now bobbing up and down with her cleaning ministrations. The view went straight to my crotch with visions of her reverse cowgirl style, bobbing her slickness up and down my now very hard dick. Marron!

Emmett patted my shoulder motioning to a table in the back with a nod of his head. Somewhat thankful for the distraction, I followed behind Emmett to a quiet corner table with a throbbing hard on raging in my pants. Emmett yanked the chair out, loudly scrapping the legs against the hardwood floor and let the chair catch the impact of his full weight. All 250 pounds. Seriously this big fucking buffoon was lucky he didn't bust the thing.

I looked at that big ox with disgust. "You born in a fucking barn now? Where's your fucking manners, you prick?"

"Fuck you. I need a fucking menu. Where is that broad?"

Emmett looked over his shoulder, holding his hand up and snapping his fingers to get her attention. "Whoa, sweetheart! Menus!"

My eyes immediately found purchase in the center of the café near the door. Her back was to us while she patiently took another table's order. I watched her nod her head in response to Emmett then politely held up her index finger indicating she'd be with us shortly.

"Relax. She's fucking busy."

I realized too late that this came out defensively and Emmett furrowed his brows, looking from me to the brunette with the tight ass. In an effort to distract Emmett's current train of thought and inevitable commentary, I quickly added,

"What the fuck you need a menu for? You've been here half a dozen times and you always order the same shit."

"I need options." He wagged his eyebrows at me. "Food's like women. You get sick of eating the same tired shit. You need to know you've got options – whether you use 'em or not. If you weren't such a foo-foo drinking fanook you'd know this."

"Hi, my name is Bella," she timidly spoke as she set down the napkins and silverware and Fuck-head's menus. "Can I get you something to drink?"

"Two coffees. Black," was my clipped reply.

Was that manly enough for you fuck-head?

Her next words were lost on me while I watched her head tilt to write the order down, the tip of her pink tongue ghosted over her full set of lips, before pulling in her bottom lip and biting down. Fuck me. Then just like that she turned and walked away and I found myself starring at that ass again like a horny fucking school boy. It was like a siren demanding me to come and pay homage, and begging to be licked or fuck it - bit. And fuck if I didn't want to come. Come all over that creamy ass. Yeah, I fucking said it. And I'd fucking do it too.

Apparently I wasn't the only mother fucker enjoying the view either and it pissed me off. I felt like taking my fork, stabbing his fucking eyes out and shoving them down his throat.

I cleared my throat and shoved his menu at him. "Here's your fucking menu. You gonna look at it or just fucking sit there being a dick?"

"Jesus Christ! What the fuck's your problem, Eddy?"

My phone buzzed and I slipped it out of my pocket, looking down to see who it was.

"Nothing. Shut the fuck up. And don't call me Eddy." I nodded towards my phone. "It's Jake. I gotta take this," pointing my index and middle fingers at Emmet, "and when I get back you better not still be looking at that fucking menu."

I lit a smoke and took the call outside, out of earshot from the occasional passerby. "What's up, J?" I blew out a cloud of smoke.

"The crew's back from work. It's done."

I wouldn't ask Jake for details over the phone and he knew better than to get into it, but I needed to know that things went smooth and weren't gonna come back to us. The last thing I needed were a couple of nosey cops busting my balls and sniffing around my action.

"You keeping the house clean?"

"Yeah. The cleaning service was in. Did a little spring cleaning. All's nice and tidy and wrapped in a big fucking bow."

Glancing through the window, I notice that Bella has returned with our coffees and a plate she's set in front of Emmett. Good that jamook finally ordered something. And fuck if it isn't the same damned sandwich he always gets. I roll my eyes and shake my head. I watch Bella smile and nod politely as Emmett engages her in a conversation. A warm rose color tints her cheeks and she laughs at something he must have said. For the first time, I find myself studying her face. And for the first time, I notice more than that ass of hers. She's fucking hot. She laughs again – and I can't help but wonder what Emmett is saying that's so fucking funny. Tucking her chin down with a big fucking grin plastered across her face, she reaches out for a piece of paper Emmett is holding out to her. My eyes narrowed and I immediately feel my right eye begin to twitch in irritation. I continue to watch as she folds the paper neatly before stuffing it in her pocket for safe fucking keeping. That lousy mother fucker.

I cleared my throat to keep the anger out of my tone. "Yeah? Good. Look, I gotta go. I'll see you back at the club."

I close my phone and pause at the door glaring at the two of them chatting like they're old friends or some shit. When she leaves to check on another table, I stalk over to Chatty Fucking Cathy who is now sitting alone and stuffing half a fucking sandwich in his face with those big meat hooks he calls hands. I yank out my chair, shaking the whole table with the rough movement and interrupting Emmett's grazing. Fucking animal. I can't help the scowl that's carved across my face. "What's this? We're making small talk now?"

Emmett sets his mangled sandwich down and carefully wipes his mouth with the napkin that's folded in his lap. "You need to chill the fuck out, dude. What's crawled up your pretty boy ass anyway? And before you say nothing…" he points towards my right eye, "know that fucking eye of yours is twitching like a mother fucker."

Fuck.

I was a pissed off mother fucker.

Pissed at Emmett for giving her his number, effectively making her one his fucking puttanas.

Pissed at myself for being a fucking hypocrite bastard. Cuz in all honesty, being balls deep in Bella is exactly what I wanted for myself.

And fuck, as crazy as it sounds. I'm pissed at Bella. Cuz despite my wants, I'm pissed at her for being that kind of girl. That girl that spreads her fucking legs for some mother fucker a couple a times a week for some sparkly trinkets and shit. Putting up with whatever was dished out and smiling all the while cuz the jewelry and flashy cars somehow justified it. Fucking goomah. It made me sick.

But mostly, I'm pissed cuz I want to be the mother fucker spreading those legs. Yeah, I'm that mother fucker. So fucking what?

Aside from being a horny mother fucker, I'm also a dick.

Emmett fucked around – all the time. Different piece of ass every weekend. But the sneaky bastard was good. Never got caught. Not that it'd make much difference. Should he get caught with his pants down, dick in some whore's cunt? Rosalie would turn a blind eye. Of course that'd be after Emmett received an advance copy of her Christmas wish list – which he'd be all too happy to fulfill. She'd never leave Emmett – but that was a moot point since he'd never grant her a divorce anyway. She's a Hale and has been brought up to know her place. Her father, Robert Hale is a corporate attorney and grosses seven digits as longtime associate and law consultant to the family. He has a twelve million dollar home overlooking the lake in Gold Coast and keeps his family wanting for nothing. Rosalie expects nothing less from her husband - my brother, Emmett.

Rosalie is Rosalie. She's selfish. And this fuck plays that card every time. Emmett would buy Rosalie anything. Anything to keep her smiling and off his shit.

"You and Rosalie? You going to Sunday dinner with the family?"

It was a dick move on my part – but what can I say? I said this loud enough to carry through the café. If Bella heard, I couldn't say. She was busy chatting with another table and showed no reaction to my words.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Turning my palms up, I shrugged my shoulder at Emmett. "Nothing. Just a question."

Emmett rested his fists on the table.

"You got something on your mind – just say it."

"Look….. just….just leave this one alone." Because when I jerk off, it's not your dick I want to picture her mouth wrapped around. Asshole.

Emmett stops mid-chew, looks up from his plate and circles his fingers in the air indicating that I should continue. "She's not one of your whores from the club." Jesus Christ! Now I do sound like a fucking pussy.

Emmett narrows his eyes and slowly drags his eyes from me to the brunette. I scoot my chair closer to the table, effectively bringing Emmett's focus back to myself. "Just leave her be."

"You fucked her didn't you?"

Not yet. "No," I answered truthfully.

"Then you want to fuck her?" More than you know. "No." Ok, so that was less than truthful? In fact it was an outright lie. So fucking what?

"You don't want to tap that? Jesus Christ, you really are a fanook." Groaning, he grabs his crotch and rolls his eyes toward the ceiling. "She's fuck hot."

"Ok, so enlighten me. If you don't want to fuck her -then what? Why you being such a pussy?"

"It's nothing."

"What do you mean nothing?"

I shrug my shoulders, "It's nothing. End of discussion." Gesturing to his plate, "You finished?" He throws his napkin on the table and nods in response. "Good. Let's go." I left a fifty on the table and walked out without another glance back at Bella or her tight ass.

I put Bella and that ass I'd like to bite out of my thoughts and drove the short distance to the club. Club 240 was the first of many businesses I owned. And it was a fucking gold mine. Lawrence Ave. offers zero fucking entertainment for night life – unless you venture down a bit to that fucking dive bar called the Admiral. That all changed when I opened the pussy palace, or as we refer to it the P and P. Make no fucking mistake; Club 240 is the premiere Chicago Gentlemen's Club. We have it all: full nudity and full-contact lap dances, pole dancing, champagne rooms, VIP rooms, private dances. By special arrangements and for an additional fee an 'upgraded' menu can be offered. This service however, is reserved for special patrons who prefer to keep a lower profile. These patrons are mostly politicians who prefer to keep their connections with the Cullen family out of the public eye and the added ammunition out of the hands of their wives' divorce attorneys.

The music is loud and Jake is leaning against the bar watching the tit show throwing back a few. I nod in his direction and he follows us to my office closing the door behind him.

Jake sits back in the far chair and relaxes by stretching out his legs and resting his hands behind his head. He looks up at the ceiling before looking over at me and wastes no more time getting to the point.

I never worried with Jake. He knew how to work the crew and run a clean job.

"Felix and Demetri went to collect. The prick was light. They made an example of him. Lit his shit up like it was the 4th of fucking July. Looked like fucking Swiss cheese."

This fucker has a whole sale store up on Lawrence Ave. in the Ravenswood neighborhood. On paper and out the front door he sells discounted merchandise. More like discounted crap but it's legit. From the back he runs drugs and fences swag. Pays for protection from the gangs. Too bad he snorts more than he sells. Two weeks ago I sent Tyler in to collect the taxes and this good for nothing prick walks out empty handed. I don't take markers. Fucking unacceptable. Jake asked if he should go in to collect. Fuck no! I don't ask twice. Ever. That ship has fucking sailed. Far as I'm concerned, final notice is now past due. No more needed to be said; Felix and Demetri were sent to clean house.

Our conversation was interrupted when Emmett's booming voice echoed through the small hallway.

"What the fuck is this shit?"

Grabbing my piece from my desk, I headed toward the back supply room with Jake closely behind. We walk around Emmett's big frame to see Bree in her blue g-string, bouncing on Tyler's lap, wiping white powder off her nose.

"What? You don't seem to mind when it's your dick I'm blowing back here," she sneered.

Emmett roughly grabbed her chin and slapped her cheek.

"'Watch that fucking mouth of yours."

Jumping off Tyler's lap, she pulled her arm back and cracked Emmett right across the face. Without a second's hesitation, Emmett smacked her right back. Hard too. His hand already leaving a reddening welt across her left cheek.

Emmett fisted her hair at the nape of her neck and shook her head from side to side. She stumbled on her heels as Emmett pulled her closer and jerked her head back so she could see his face. "I don't fucking pay you to sit back here blowing coke. I pay you to shake those fucking tits," he spat down at her.

Emmett loosened his grip and caught her arm before her hand came down on his face again.

"Fuck you," she spat back. Yanking her arm out of Emmett's grip she turned away, leaving to return to the floor.

In two steps Emmett's at the door. Waving the back of his hand in the air he shouts after her,

"Yeah, that's right! Get back to work you fucking junkie whore!"

He looks over at me, "What's with these fucking broads?"

My attention turns to Tyler who looks like he's about to piss himself.

"You always this fucking stupid – or are you just making a special effort today?"

I walk over and smack him in the back of his head. His head jerks forward and I pull him back, grabbing the back of his hair and yanking his head closer to me. "You fucking know better." I thump the nose of my gun on the back of his head. "You got shit for brains or what?" He cringes from the assault and I have to hold him tighter. "What the fuck's the matter with you?" I wave my gun towards the white powder that's neatly lined up on the bar tray. "You don't do this shit here." Clenching his hair tighter I shove him forward towards the door. "Get the fuck outta here before I lose my patience." Out of sheer frustration I turn and kick the empty shipping boxes, throwing my hands in the air. "And get rid of this shit! Now!"

They know better than to bring this shit in here. Sure I kept cops on the payroll to look the other way but there were always the occasional few that would stroll in looking to get off traffic duty and have their five minutes of fame. Opportunistic Mother Fuckers.

Emmett left a few hours ago to take care of some business, so I move out to the floor and take a seat next to Jake. I'm tired as fuck but there's no point in going home. I can't remember the last time I got some descent sleep without having to pop a couple valiums. Lately, that's all I do… pop valiums like they're fucking cherry flavored pez.

"What are you drinking?"

Jake looks down at his glass and swirls the dark liquid before finishing it off. "Jack and coke."

I tap the counter for the bartender's attention. Holding up two fingers, I instruct him to get another round.

"Hey, two Jack and cokes."

Leaning back in my chair I watch the girls move on the floor. The girls are hot yet I can't help imagining what Bella would look like straddling that pole.

My fantasies are cut short as my cell phone vibrates. My curiosity is peeked when I look down and see the unfamiliar number flashing across the screen.

I nod towards my phone, "Be back in a sec." Standing up I walk towards the back where it's quieter and take the call.

'Hello." I light my smoke waiting for a reply but only static fills the silence.

My eyebrows raise in irritation as my fingers work to smooth the lines etched into my forehead. "Hello," I try again. This time I'm answered with a soft voice. "Emmett?"

Just fucking perfect. Why the fuck is some broad calling for Emmett on my phone? To say I was fucking irritated would be putting it mildly. "Uh, no. Who is this?"

Clearing her throat, she answers in raspy stutters. "Oh, I….I um, I'm sorry. This is um…Bella." There's a short pause and I have to listen carefully because her next words are thick with tears. "Um…. is…. um….is Emmett there?"

Fucking Emmett! Business my ass!

She fucks Emmett and now I have to run interference for the prick.

"No, he's not here," I answered without offering to take a message.

I'm pissed off at my brother for fucking with this girl – but I can't seem to feel sorry for her. I look at my watch – Emmett hadn't left more than two hours ago. Two hours and he's down her fucking pants. Two hours and she just spreads those legs for the first prick that drops a few smooth lines. I have no fucking claim to her and I know I have no right to be, but I am pissed. All the fucking whores on the north side and he's got to fuck Bella.

More than anything I wish she'd just get off my phone. I really don't want to hear her crying about Emmett fucking her and walking out with some phony promise to call next week.

Stifled sobs break the silence that followed. Just fucking great!

"It's just…..well, my roommate is out and….there just isn't anyone else to call and," her voice is raw like she's been crying for a while. Her next words are barely above a fucking whisper but I can still hear the fear behind them. I walk over and close the door to my office to drown out the music. "it's just….something happened…and I really…"She inhales deeply and lets out a shaky breath. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have called."

My mind tries to wrap itself around what she's saying. I'm trying to put the fucking pieces together and figure out how Emmett fits in to this shit. Nothing I come up with looks good for Emmett. I know Emmett is a fucking animal. I hear the girls at the club talk and yeah, he can be rough. Fucking asshole.

I hear quiet sobs. Shit! She's fucking crying again. "Bella? You said something happened. What happened?" Silence.

I'm torn because I don't really want to know what he did to Bella. I really don't want to give a fuck – but for some odd reason I find myself having to ask anyway. "Was Emmett there? Talk to me, Bella."

"I…I'm sorry…."

I release a frustrated breath and try again to get some answers.

"Bella, you need to fucking help me here. I need you to tell me what happened. Are you hurt?"

Silence.

I don't have time for these fucking games. It's a simple fucking question – the answer is either yes or no.

"Bella?"

Her reply was barely a squeak. "Yes."

"Yes, what? Yes, you're hurt?"

"Yes." Her answer comes quicker this time. Finally we're fucking getting somewhere.

"Where are you now?"

"At the café."

"Are you safe now?" It'd be nice to know what the fuck I'm walking into – but I can tell she's not going to offer anything more over the phone.

"I..ah…I um don't know." She sniffles and in a hoarse whisper, "I'm so scared, Edward."

The urgency in her voice is unmistakable. She's trying to be brave but I can almost smell her fear through her words. You don't get to be where I'm at without being able to read people. I know she's fucking scared to shit.

"Ok just sit tight. I can be there in half an hour. Is that ok?"

"Thank you," was all she said before she hung up the phone.

I checked the clip and then slipped my glock under my coat. Quickly I walked back out to Jake and with a nod I motion for him to follow. ""What's up, Boss?"

"Something came up and I've to take care of some shit." I finish the last of my drink and toss the keys over to Jake. "You drive."

Jake throws the last of his drink back. "'Yup, let's go."

Jake and I pull up to the café not more than twenty minutes later. I instruct Jake to keep the escalade running and stay put. "Keep your fucking eyes open. I'm gonna go on in and see what the fuck is going on."

Jake nods his head at me. "Sure thing, boss."

Walking towards the café, my hand instinctively reaches towards my side; my fingers just a touch away from my piece. It's dark inside and the sign on the door reads closed. I look up and down the now deserted street and knock on the door. The sound seems deafening as it echoes through the still air. A small shadow moves from the back and stops in the middle of the café.

"Bella? It's me. It's Edward." I wrap the glass again with my knuckles. "Come on. Open the fuck up."

She hesitantly walks to the door and with visibly shaking hands, unlocks the door. She takes a step back, moving away from the door. Keeping my eyes locked on hers, I slowly pull the door open and take a step towards her. The first thing I notice is Bella's open blouse and ample cleavage peeking out. Yeah, I'm a dick. My eyes linger taking a minute longer to appreciate the view when I notice the missing buttons from her blouse. I have to remind myself why I'm here and turn my gaze to assess the rest of her appearance. Her clothing is wrinkled, disheveled looking and stained with blood. Her sleeve is torn at the shoulder revealing bruises along her upper arm. I look back at her tear filled eyes, now wild with fear and she takes another step back. Her long mahogany hair falls away from her face revealing a heavily bruised cheek and a very swollen bottom lip.

Jesus Fuck! Instinctively I fist my hands as I feel a surge of anger ripping through my veins and threatening to erupt. I don't know what happened yet – and truthfully it doesn't really matter. Everything I needed to know is standing before me. And there is no question about it. I will hunt down the mother fucker who did this and put him to rest. Fucking permanently.

"Bella, what the fuck happened?"

She looks so small and broken. I find myself wanting to pull her into my arms and keeping her there; whispering promises in her ear that everything will be ok. I think better of myself and take a step back – giving Bella a little space.

She just stands there looking past me and staring at the door.

"Bella! Did you hear me?" She shows no indication that she's heard me and I'm about to lose my fucking patience with this shit. I want some fucking answers and I want them now. I'm pissed but I'm able to resist the urge I have to fucking shake the answers out of her.

Dazed, she walks past me and reaches out to lock the door. Turning away from the window she rests her back against the door, and sinks to the floor with her face buried in her hands. Her whole body shakes with the violent sobs erupting from her chest.

I'm tempted to get Jake's ass in here. Let him deal with the fucking tears while I keep the car running. He has two fucking sisters – so he's got to be used to this crying bull shit. I'm really fucking clueless when it comes to this emotional bull shit.

I'm grasping at fucking straws when I kneel next to her and begin rubbing circles on her back. I lean in to her ear and whisper, "Bella, its ok now. I'm here." I try to get her off the fucking floor by guiding her elbow. "Come on. Up." She pulls her arm out of my grip, and wraps her arms around her knees. She brings her head down, her hair falling forward and covering her face. "Bella, I need to know what the fuck happened. I can't help if you won't talk to me. Come on, I need you to get up for me."

She visibly flinches at the sharpness in my tone but slowly, she gets up on her knees and reaches up, wrapping her arms around my neck and hiding her tear stained face in my shoulder. Instinctively I wrap my arms around her small waist and I have no choice but to hold her trembling form to me. I pull her closer and lean in burying my face in her hair. And Jesus fuck if she doesn't smell like honeyed vanilla. I hold back a groan and remind myself that now is not the time.

She still hasn't said shit. I have no idea how badly she's hurt or if she needs a fucking doctor. I tried to pull back to further assess her injuries but she fists my shirt refusing the separation. Gently I try to loosen the death grip she has on my shirt and soften my voice to give her some assurance. "It's ok. I'm not going anywhere, Bella." Kneeling here on the hardwood floors is uncomfortable as fuck. Slowly I shift to sit on the ground, and easily pull her limp body onto my lap.

Seriously I'm at a loss with this crying shit. I try to be soothing and offer some comfort so I continue rubbing circles on her back. I have no idea if it's helping. It's just something I remember my mom doing for me when I was little and had a bad dream. It always seemed to work – so fuck maybe it'll help Bella too. I don't know – but it's all I got.

I tuck a piece of her hair behind her ear and trace the outline of the darkening bruise with my thumb. The sight of that fucking bruise makes me want to punch something. I can feel my grip on Bella tighten. Breathing deeply for my own fucking sanity, I close my eyes to block out the sight of the offending bruises. I can't fucking look at that shit anymore. Yet, there really is no escape as my mind races with the possibilities I don't want to be fucking true. I need to distract myself so I try focusing on the small circles I continue to rub on Bella's back and I briefly wonder if I'm calming her or myself with this shit.

I turn my head to Bella and whisper. "Shh, it's ok. I'm here, baby. I'm here." Then pulling Bella a little closer, I close my eyes and rest my head back against the locked door cuz there isn't anything more to do. I can't force her to fucking talk. It would just scare her more than she already is. She'll talk when she's ready. And I can respect that. I didn't fucking like it – but I could respect it. So for now I'll just let her cry and get it all out.

Well – In a quiet little neighborhood on the north side of Chicago The Dolce Casa Café really does exist and they really do have fuck-awesome coffee – sadly no Edward though

This is how I like Edward best – rough, wild and breaking all the rules….YuMmY!

Ready for your Italian-Slang lesson of the day? Never say you didn't learn something today!

Jamook – idiot; looser; lamebrained

Fanook - derogatory for homosexual

Mezza fanook – derogatory for half of a homosexual

Top earner – one who generates a large income for the mafia family

Empty suit - someone with nothing to offer that hangs around with mobsters

Fanabala – Go to hell

Strunz – piece of shit

Eat alone – to keep for one's self; be greedy

Put to sleep with a serious headache – murder

Give everyone a taste – give a percentage of the take

Pay our respects – give a percentage of the take

Gavone – someone who eats a lot

Cacasenno – know it all; smart ass

Marron – refers to the mother of Christ

Keeping the house clean – covering your tracks

Puttanas – whores

Goomah – mafia mistress

Swag – stolen goods

….I think that pretty much covers it for this chappy…if I left something out just shoot me a line.