Stephenie Meyer owns all things Twilight. No copyright infringement is intended.
Beta'd by HollettLA
Riders on the Storm
Chapter Thirty: Maybe
Aro POV
After I picked up a bouquet of flowers, I drove straight to the hospital. The streets were quiet, empty for a Saturday, and I found a spot up the block from Methodist. I don't like to leave my whip in public garages.
During the short walk, I smoked a cigarette and enjoyed the sights. This neighborhood—Park Slope—is much nicer these days. With the economy and it costing a fortune to live in Manhattan, many parts of Brooklyn are being built-up—nearly commercialized. Warehouses that have been abandoned since I was a kid are now million-dollar lofts. Mom-and-Pop shops are scarce, replaced with a Rite-Aid practically on every corner.
And if I see another Five Guys burger joint, or a fucking Fro-Yo spot . . .
Frozen yogurt, my dick.
Whatever happened to ice cream? Motherfucking Carvel?
I kept my eyes open, ready for anything. With what's going on—the Skip's avoiding me now—I wasn't sure how this would play out in the long run.
One thing I knew for sure, I had to get Katie and my granddaughter out of Brooklyn.
In addition to the flowers, I had an envelope full of cash. Katie could go wherever she wanted. Yesterday, by myself and of my own accord, I packed a bag for her along with all the baby stuff from her apartment. It was all packed in the Chevy Blazer that I also bought yesterday.
Don't get me wrong. The shit with Lauren? I actually—while I wasn't 100% cool with it—respected it. She did what she did, fucked with Dame when he was a baby and shit, and if anyone fucked with one of my kids…?
To an extent, I was happy about it. I have no idea what the fuck they did to her, or how they iced her, or where they disposed of her . . .
This gives me a chance to have my kids back, to maybe play daddy for Katie. According to my children, their mother took off. At first, they were heartbroken about it. Now, they're just pissed.
AJ made a comment about how he hopes she stays away . . . this time.
They paid this private dick to look into things, and then I approached him and gave him more money not to look. It's not like he was going to find anything anyway.
Lau taking off isn't unheard of. She'd done it before with Tom, Dick, or Harry—whatever fucknut cat she should con a vacation out of. Shit. Three years ago, she dated this guy from Maryland. And she'd gone to stay with him for a month, leaving the kids, the fucking restaurant. When shit didn't work out, she came back . . . usually comes back, but not this time.
Like always and behind the scenes—unbeknownst to my children and my wife, who'd eat my balls for breakfast if she knew—I ran the restaurant, kept Lau's apartment, paid her rent, and I even sent her airfare when that last fucker dumped her ass. She had no means to come back to New York.
I did it to play nice, save face . . .
'Cause no matter what, no matter how many fucking times Lauren messed up, my children still idolized her. I understood it. My moms could go on a murder spree, rob a bank, and I'd still think the world of her.
Actually, if she did all that shit, I'd think she was badass.
I laughed to myself as I entered the hospital, stopping at the security desk. "Katie-Lynn Sanchez?" I had to show ID.
"Room 503." The woman behind the desk smiled at me, holding out the sticker. "Artaro . . . is that Italian?" When I reached for the tag, she pulled it back.
"Yeah."
She winked, finally giving it up. "Go down the hall to the main elevators—"
"I got it." I walked off, my mind going back to the previous subject, the shit I've been thinking about the past few weeks.
No, I was cool with Lau being gone.
Forget about it.
If Lauren spoke ill of me around the kids . . .
That bitch held all the cards, always manned my childrens' puppet strings, and that irked the fuck out of me.
I'm always walking on thin ice with my children. They're hard on me. Maybe they love me just as much, equally, yet sometimes…I can't be sure.
Maybe I wasn't around as much as I should have been, but I was there more than Lau was—while she was perpetrating this image, pretending to be this struggling single mother. Meanwhile, she never struggled a day. The restaurant wasn't doing well, I stepped in. She was short on rent, her car note, I paid that shit, and so on.
Our kids were always going back and forth. They never had a set residence. They had rooms at both cribs. Sometimes they'd be with me, and other times at that bitch's spot.
Maybe they didn't come to my wedding, but Lisa loves the fuck out of all three of them. Maybe I didn't try hard enough, but they always had everything they needed and more.
My father—God rest his soul; he passed away five years ago—made an honest living cleaning offices, running his janitorial service. My parents, my sister, and I all lived in a two-bedroom apartment. My mother always made me a hot lunch—school lunch was too expensive, so I'd go home, or she'd make something for me to take with me. We ate together every single night. My father was home every evening at six. We never had much, and I know it sounds corny, but we had each other. My dad wasn't able to buy me extravagant gifts or send me on vacation with my friends. But that was okay. I respected and loved my parents, was always grateful for whatever they'd given me, and I never asked for more.
When I got involved in the shit I'm in now . . .
My father respected it. It was the way things were done in the old country. So, while he never partook of anything, was never a member of any organization, he never held my involvement against me.
But my kids weren't going to go without. Every birthday, every Christmas, any-fucking-thing their heart desired . . . If I had the means, they got it. They were spoiled within reason; while I tried to instill the values my parents had given me. They did chores, washed my cars, helped Lisa out with shit.
And then they'd go stay with their mom . . .
All of which would reverse some of the things I'd taught them. It was like playing a game of tug-of-war. Plus, if they brought any gifts back to Lau's . . . She'd throw it in their faces and play some victim. Say shit like, "It must be nice to have a rich daddy." Or, she'd tell them I was trying to buy them, which couldn't be further from the truth.
I think every parent wants more—more than they had themselves—for their kids.
So, Lauren bouncing? Her getting clipped?
Now, I had the chance to shine as a parent, no matter how old they are.
Even if the circumstances have nothing to do with each other—even with giving Katie the ten Gs, I'm saving money—Lauren is no longer my problem either.
And needless to say, I needed Katie to quietly sneak away without fanfare, without anyone knowing where she would go.
If Lau was around, she'd make a stink and get us all fucking killed.
Of course, I'm disappointed in my daughter. Only because, if she didn't know who the father was, she should have never told Sonny he was. She should have left it all alone until Clarissa—my granddaughter—was born, and then do the testing. The only thing Katie knew for sure was that she wasn't Raul's kid.
It came as a shock to all of us, Sonny especially . . . obviously.
I hear he's doing okay, better than expected, or as well as can be expected. He's a hothead, though. It wouldn't surprise me if he waited until Katie was home—in that swanky apartment he got her—to confront her, and I didn't trust his temper. Maybe he wouldn't go there with the intention to harm her, but he might…
If it was anyone else . . . anyone else, and they dissed a guy like Sonny? Well, I don't know what would happen. This has never occurred before that I know of.
It's a huge slap in the face.
And things have calmed down some . . .
Back when Skip first took the reins, guys were getting clipped for stepping on his fucking shoes. Who knows what they'd do to Katie . . . not that they'd do anything. I don't believe anything will happen to her—not at the Skip's instruction anyway.
Sonny might go to talk to her, their arguing gets out of hand, and then I have to whack Sonny? I'd follow, and anyone else who helped me would follow, too. I'm no idiot, so my best bet is getting Katie out of Dodge until shit settles and slows down.
"Raul?" I stopped short, surprised by his presence. He was waiting for the elevator; I saw him when I was leaving the one I was in.
Raul partially covered his face, walking away.
"Yo." I grabbed onto his sleeve.
"I just…" My ex-son-in-law had tears in his eyes. "I thought—"
"Relax," I said, not sure what to say. He was always a good kid, treated Katie with respect. Maybe they weren't always happy. Maybe Katie never truly loved him, although I can't be sure, and Raul usually tried to do right by her, take care of her. We all make mistakes, but I was sure he was never unfaithful.
And maybe I'm a hypocrite. 'Cause when I found out my granddaughter might be Sonny's? I was surprised and happy as fuck. The Skip and I were going to be grandpas together—I'd get to share that with my best friend.
Hey, I love Sonny. Even if I gave the kid hell because I felt betrayed, wanted him with my daughter, I love him as if he was my own. I may not like his temper, the things he does, or the things he has done, but I knew Sonny would die—kill for Katie and take care of her to the best of his ability, even if they weren't in love anymore. He'd sacrifice his own happiness to do the right thing. That says a lot to me, especially since I'd done it before myself.
Fuck. I was Sonny back in the day—when Lau turned up pregnant with AJ.
Raul, Sonny . . . at the end of the day, they're both good guys. But now I had to watch them. My daughter scorned them both. I couldn't hold anything against Katie, even though I knew she'd wronged them.
"I thought the baby would be in the window . . ." He looked to his shoes. "I just wanted to see her."
"Oh." I nodded. "Did you see Katie?"
"I stopped in—brought her jelly rings."
"Her favorite." I smiled.
"Yeah, but I should go." Raul wouldn't face me.
I furrowed my brow. "Uh…take care of yourself." I hoped they could work it out.
Stranger things have happened.
Raul bopped his head, his lips drawing a tight line as he entered the elevator.
I blew out a breath, watching the doors close. Then, when I passed the nursery, I was surprised that there were no babies in the window. The joint was empty, and I guessed mothers had their babies with them.
When I walked into the hospital room, I was glad to see all three of my favorite girls. Katie was in bed watching TV, while Lisa held Clarissa in the rocking chair.
"Hey." I knocked once, which made my wife and daughter look my way.
Katie's face crumbled when she saw me.
"What's wrong?" I kept my tone soft as I entered, quick to sit in bed with her.
"She thinks you hate her," Lisa said.
"Never." I smiled, kissing her hair. "I could never."
She sniffled, wiping her eyes. "I didn't know. I just—I wanted a baby, and—"
"I have an idea..." I rushed out. "No worries."
"No. I want you to know the whole story," Katie said.
After placing the bouquet on the side table, I gestured for her to continue, but I couldn't keep my eyes off the bundle of joy in my wife's arms. I hadn't seen Lisa smile that wide in…months.
"Raul and I tried for two years . . . I was checked out, poked and prodded. I even had that operation to see what was going on inside," she cried. "There was nothing wrong with me . . . Raul refused to go to the doctor himself, that macho shit!"
"Relax." I rubbed up her bicep.
She opened a tissue to blow her nose at the same time Clarissa decided to make her presence known.
"Uh-Oh…I think this one misses her momma." Lisa stood from the chair.
"She misses Grandpa." I widened my arms, wiggling my fingers, and I couldn't wait to hold her, wearing the brightest smile. "Gimme that baby."
"Easy," Lisa crooned softly, placing her in my arms.
"Like I don't know how to hold a baby," I said.
Lisa just grinned at me, gently taking her hands away, only stare down.
"Who's the cutest widdle girl?" I asked, making sure I didn't hold her too tight. Clarissa had her gray eyes open, whining just a little.
Katie snorted. "It's funny; seeing you with a baby…"
"Hey." I raised a brow. "You were the cutest widdle girl, too." I rocked my granddaughter in my arms.
Katie grinned, touching Clarissa's hand with her finger. "Isn't she, though?" She jutted her lower lip out. "I can't take how perfect she is…" Then her face fell and the tears were back.
Lisa sighed. "I need some coffee . . . Want one?"
I nodded, my gaze staying on her ass as she left the room. Lisa was wearing the slacks that make her ass bubble.
"Like…" Katie started again, "it was like three weeks before I hooked up with Sonny again," she continued. "The doctor put me on Clomid, saying it might help." She shrugged, calming down, and so did Clarissa.
"I remember." I nodded. "They put you on some shit so you'd…um—"
"Ovulate." She finished for me.
"Yup." I smiled down to my granddaughter. "And look at what'chu got." I chuckled.
"I was depressed, and I hadn't even started taking it yet. I went out—got crazy drunk. It was the first time in almost two years that I'd had a drink." She shook her head. "And I met this guy . . . He was sweet and handsome—"
"Where was he from?" I asked.
"Queens—"
"No," I laughed.
"Panama . . . You know I like Hispanic guys."
"Yeah…" I gasped when Clarissa latched onto my finger. "Strong grip."
"And we used a condom! A fucking condom!"
"Relax." I nudged her leg with my own. Although I was tickled pink that she wanted to break shit down for me, I didn't wanna hear about her hooking up with some random cat. Even if the end result was . . . a damn good one, Clarissa.
She blew out a breath. "Drunk off my ass, a condom . . . and no meds. So, because of the timing too . . . I came out pregnant after I hooked up with Sonny." She clapped once. "And there's no way she's Sonny's." She started crying again. "And I am so grateful for that. Raul and I . . . things were rocky, and she's all mine."
I nodded, albeit sadly. "Would it have been so horrible if she was Sonny's?"
"I'll think Sonny's the hottest piece of ass until the day I die. That's just how it is—"
"That's not what I asked you," I said.
"I don't know. I hate his lifestyle—I couldn't live like that, and I was scared to death." Her lip quivered. "He needed answers, so he'd leave Raul alone . . . leave us alone. I was dishonest, lying about the feelings I didn't have, but Sonny would have gone for Raul. I know that . . . so I played along the best I could. Sonny won't hurt me."
"Baby, I wish you were honest," I whispered. "Whatever it was, you should have come to me. You led Sonny on—"
"I didn't think it was possible," she cried. "The results didn't match Raul, so I was 100% sure Sonny was her father. What were the odds?" She stared up to the ceiling.
I shook my head, humming.
"He's married now . . . He'll get that one knocked up as soon as he can. We didn't love each other anymore, and I don't even know why we tried to make it work. I knew from the get that I didn't love him anymore. I didn't know what was wrong with me. I figured since our attraction toward one another was still there . . . I don't know. Plus, with Sonny and me not being together, where would Clarissa and I fit in his life if she was his daughter? We wouldn't."
"That's not true, and you know it." I bent low to place my lips to Clarissa's soft forehead.
"I need you to be on my side."
"Katie, I'm always—always, always—on your side, and don't forget that." I kissed her cheek.
She started crying again, nestling into my side. "I'm sorry, Daddy."
"Don't be . . . but now Clarissa doesn't have a father," I said. "Do you even know how to get ahold of this cat?"
"No," she whispered. "And I don't care. I can raise her myself, and then there's you, AJ, and Gio—"
"True," I mused, chuckling. "She'll have enough overprotective dudes around."
"Yeah, she's mine." She grabbed Clarissa to hold her.
I gave her up without a fight. "Listen—"
"Lisa already told me." She kept her tone hushed. "When we're discharged . . . I have to leave, and I'm fine with that. I honestly don't think Sonny would hurt me. He's upset now, but deep down he never wanted this. He wanted the whole package—the wife, the house, the babies, the bullshit. Soon he'll realize he dodged a bullet."
I reached to wipe what was left of those tears away. "I don't think he'd hurt you either, but I'm not sure and that's why. I'm glad you won't fight me."
"Well, it's not about me anymore." She smiled down to her daughter.
"I'll drive you anywhere you wanna go." I passed her the envelope. "That's ten grand. When you need more money, you call me, and I'll take care of youse."
"Okay," she whispered. "AJ brought me my laptop. I'll figure something out—see if there's any houses I can rent down the Shore."
"Not Jersey," I said, reaching to place her hair behind her ear. "It's too small, too many people might . . . I don't know if they'd know you." I blew out a breath. "It's just for a few weeks—to let Sonny cool down. I've known him in other ways than you do . . . he can be a ruthless motherfucker when he wants to be. He won't think twice about harming an enemy, and you made a fool out of him."
Katie sobbed quietly, and I let her . . . I was at a loss, but she needed to know of that possibility, no matter how small.
"Baby, if you see him, I want you to call me right away. If he finds you . . . which I don't believe he will. You know?"
She nodded, using the back of her hand to wipe her nose. "Do you hate me?"
"Never. I told you." I placed my arm around her. "I could never hate you. I love you."
"I love you, too," she sighed and sniffled. "She was born right on time . . ."
"What?" I asked.
"The doctors…they said she was early, but she was right on time." She snorted. "The timing . . . it fit, and I believed with my whole heart that she was Sonny's."
"Just relax, okay?"
"Everyone is probably calling me a whore."
"No way—not around me. I won't let them," I promised. "You and Clarissa will be fine." I kissed her temple, pulling Clarissa's cap back to see her soft black hair.
"And where the fuck is Mom?" She was weeping again.
"I left her messages . . ." I trailed off.
"I have Gil's number at home." Brando popped one his dome before Anton killed him. "Maybe he'll have his cell wherever they are. She was so excited, wanted to know the minute I went into labor. I can't believe she'd leave."
"Your mother has always done what she wanted, when she wanted to do it. Trust me." I shrugged.
"Yeah." She frowned.
We sat in silence for about five minutes. It was peaceful and nice until Clarissa started wailing. I actually leaned away, she was so loud. It made me chuckle, too. Her cries sounded like Katie's did all those years ago.
Lisa came back with my coffee, and I moved to the windowsill to drink it.
"You're heading to Eclipse?" Lisa asked.
I sipped my coffee. "It's Thursday night." All of which meant I had to collect.
"So, I won't see you until tomorrow night . . . Where do you sleep when you stay there?" She was starting with the twenty questions.
"There's a pull-out couch in the office."
"There is," Katie confirmed.
I didn't comment about her knowledge of that. "I'll call you in the morning."
"Bella's told me that Edward comes home late sometimes . . . but he never sleeps there." Lisa wouldn't look at me.
"I tend to be busier than he is. We have cocktails; I'm seeing guys until early morning. Sometimes I just crash there, get a few hours before I go home."
"You're always freshly showered and bright-eyed!" She widened her own eyes.
"Don't start," I whispered. "Shit comes up—shit I can't control."
She gritted her teeth together. "Why don't you head out now?"
"Yeah, Dad." Katie giggled. "It's time for Clarissa to eat. You guys should head down to the cafeteria."
"I'll stay . . . breastfeeding doesn't scare me," Lisa teased.
I grinned. "Right." I left the windowsill, leaning to kiss my wife, but she gave me her cheek. It was nothing new. "I'll see you guys tomorrow." I kissed Katie and then ducked to kiss Clarissa. "You really are the cutest widdle thing." I didn't want to leave.
"Bye." Lisa waved.
I smiled and left the room, pausing to sigh against the wall outside in the hall. She had to bring up that shit—our shit, our problems—while Katie was around. That pissed me off.
Lisa hasn't fucked me in months, thinking I'm fucking around. Sure. I flirt, I get dances, but I haven't slept or been with anyone else. I haven't done shit.
For years, up until she got her promotion last year, I came home early. I never had business on the weekends, and I always doted—was the perfect husband. Her new job is more important. She's always been married to her job, but now . . . I don't know why she's getting on me about being out late. She's never home during the day, when I'm actually home. We've always had different schedules, but we made it work.
I love the fuck out of that woman, and all marriages hit slumps, I guess.
We needed to get away, reconnect, but she's too busy for that shit.
/=/=/=/=/
Eclipse was packed when I showed up. Even the Skip was here, and he surprised me by giving me a head nod. I knew shit was going to be awkward; I counted on that shit.
"'Sup?" I slapped my hand to his.
He pursed his lips, shaking his head. "Have a seat."
Wary, I slid into the booth. "We gonna talk about this now?" I asked, giving a chin jerk to Carlisle. He sat next to Edward.
Skip smirked. "Actually . . . I don't wanna discuss that shit at all. But you will apologize to Sonny, making it hard for him the past few months."
I nodded.
Although I'm sure he thought that'd be the worst thing, a punishment of sorts, I agreed. Sonny deserved an apology from me. "He here tonight?"
"Nah, not yet . . . he's taking it easy." He sipped his drink. "He should be here soon, just to stop in, kick up. But he's taking his bride down to Florida tomorrow."
I couldn't help myself. "Doesn't she have school?"
He shrugged. "They leave in the morning, and they'll be back on Tuesday—winter break starts. She's off tomorrow or something. Fuck if I know." He scrambled.
"Right." I leaned back when Luke approached the table.
"Wassup?" He bent low to embrace the Skip, and then shake Carlisle's hand and mine. "Can you scoot in?" he asked me.
I left the booth. "I've got others to see…Can I get your key?" On Thursdays, I use the office to collect and confer.
"When he shows, I'll send Sonny in." He slapped the set into my palm. "Come check me when you're done," Skip said, reaching out to give me a pound. "We're just chillin', drinkin' and shit." It sounded like he had a few already.
I appreciated it, him being so cool. "Bet," I said, turning away from the table.
After I got a drink from the bar, I went straight to the office. The door was open and Layla sat behind the desk.
Fucking Layla.
She was on her cell phone. "Okay. Okay, cool." She smiled, waving at me. "Thanks again. Bye."
I entered, closing the door after myself. "You need me to come back, or…?"
Layla still wore her pretty smile as she rose from the chair. "No…"
I nodded, waiting for her to leave. "Got everything you need? I'mma be a while."
She reached for the cash drawers, but then left them there. "I haven't seen you in a few days."
I stepped around her to sit in the chair. "I've been busy."
"Oh…" She hopped up to sit on the desk.
I smirked up at her, her long legs in my face. Tonight she was wearing a skirt, and she usually wears pantsuits. She looked good. "What's up, Layla?" Her behavior was odd, too. On the reg, she's this cute, quiet little thing. And right now . . . I don't know. There was something up with her.
She uncrossed those gams, bending low to get closer to me. "Just…I don't know. I haven't seen you. Maybe I missed you." She winked.
I laughed. "Missed me?" Yeah, it was funny. Her tone was flirtatious, and I'm old enough to be her father. Our relationship up to this point had always been based on the pity I felt for her, being dealt such a crappy hand. I'd help her out all the time when she'd dance for me.
But this was new.
"You didn't miss me?" She grinned, touching her thigh to my hand that rested on the desk.
"Um…" My finger traced her knee. I won't lie. I've always been attracted to her. She's a beautiful woman, but this was sudden. All of which made me think she had another agenda. "What's up? For real?" I peered up to her. "You okay? You wanna talk?"
"No." She sighed, toying with my collar. "Nothing's up." Her eyes searched mine as she got closer and closer . . . and I still didn't believe her.
"Really?" I was going to test this shit out, curious as fuck. "You just…miss me?" I rose from the chair, my hands rubbing up her thighs, my hips getting between hers; meanwhile, my heart was thumping away, not in the good way.
Layla placed her hands on my chest. "Yeah…" Her cheeks were pink. "I don't get to dance for you anymore."
I nodded. "Is it a financial thing? 'Cause, sweetheart, I don't pay for it."
She shook her head, staring at my chin or my lips, her perfume-scented skin invading my senses. She smelled good.
"I'm married," I said.
"I don't care if you don't." She broke eye contact with me.
I nodded, chuckling and looking away. "Right . . . Why don't you tell me what game you're playing? It'll go a lot faster." I took her hands away from my shirt.
"Just…sit down." She gestured to the chair. "I'll show you how serious I am." This was definitely a joke—one that could have been set up by Sonny. As soon as my dick touches her, he'll hop out from nowhere with a camera—send it to America's Funniest Home Video. "Just have a seat." She pushed me back.
Playing along, I did as she asked. "What now?" I cocked a brow.
Her hands touched my thighs as she got down on her knees.
And this was so unlike her.
Ever since she was attacked, she doesn't even look at other men, except Sonny. And maybe that was why I was a fuck to him, too. . . maybe I was jealous he had her attention and I didn't, even though she's off-limits to me.
I wished she'd be straight with me. If this was a set-up, I'd be pissed and hurt, especially since I'd always treated Layla with the utmost respect. Regardless of if she shook her ass on me a time or two. We talk all the time. In fact, the past few times I've slept here were because of her. She closes at four a.m., and I wait for her. I take her home, and then just come back here.
Sometimes things do happen—where I might need to take a shower and change clothes before I go home. Yet, that little factor has nothing to do with fucking whatsoever. Those are the nights I can't see her home.
But up until this point, our relationship has never been physical. I never even tried, never really—truly—wanted to.
Overall, I just enjoyed her company.
"Um…" She reached for my belt.
"Whoa!" I stopped her. "C'mere, sweetheart." I held her biceps, lifting her from the ground.
"I wanna do this—show you I'm serious." She shrugged out of my hold. "You don't want me?"
I shook my head. "I'm sorry."
"Just let me—" She managed to unzip me.
"Layla—Christ!" I was about to lose my temper.
But lo and behold, Sonny walked right in. I didn't hear his keys over the music, and he was able to see the scene in front of him, know what was about to go down—Layla. He didn't have a camera or a phone in his hands, though. "My bad." He went to close the door. Sonny didn't look like he gave a fuck either.
"Santino!" Layla shouted for him, damn near crawling.
Sonny paused and turned around. "What?"
Layla stood from the floor, pulling her skirt down. "That's not what it looked like."
I chuckled in my seat. "I think she was trying to fuck with you," I said.
Layla's head whipped back and forth between us.
"Layla…" Sonny took his phone out of his pocket. "You called me five minutes ago . . . you wanted to make sure I was on my way, there was an emergency at the bar? Guess I showed up on time. Right?" But he didn't look upset at all.
I rolled my eyes and zipped my pants. Layla isn't a sneaky chick, and I had no idea why she went this route to get Sonny's attention.
Layla didn't reply. She just kept her head down. Needless to say, her plan wasn't working out the way she'd hoped.
"I'm sorry," Sonny said. "I'd speak to you privately, but I'd rather Mr. Andino was here." He took a step toward her. "I am your employer . . . I apologize if I ever gave you a certain impression, and I assure you . . . I'm not playing hard to get, nor am I ignoring you or your flirtations. I'm married. You should respect that."
"Yes, sir," she whispered. "No . . . I mean, I'm sorry. I was going shot for shot with Mr. Macari," she spoke of Caius and blamed it on the alcohol; meanwhile, I didn't smell a bit of booze on her. "I—I don't know." She turned back to me. "I'm sorry." She sobbed in my direction.
Sonny shook his head, walking around her to slap a manila envelope down. "That's my trib. I was just gonna drop it off with Dad."
I pointed to the chair across from me. "Have a seat."
"Just don't," he said. "I didn't plan on staying." His attire told me that much. He wasn't in a suit but jeans and a sweater. Then he faced Layla. "You have two weeks to find another job."
"Hey!" I shouted. "What the—"
"It is what it is," Sonny told me, looking back to Layla. "This whole shit right here?" He twirled a finger. "Now I don't feel I can trust you. I told you in beginning not to give me a reason as to why I couldn't."
Layla covered her face with her hands.
"Sonny," I called him, gesturing to the chair in front of me.
"You can collect unemployment. I won't deny your claim, and you have two weeks to find another gig. Don't make me the bad guy." He was all business as he gave her a tissue. "Give me your keys." She handed them right over. "Now, go." He jerked his head to the door—just like his father would.
Whether you work in their establishments or you're a member of the family, you don't get three strikes. It's one and you're out—doesn't matter if you're a man, woman, or beautiful as fuck. Well, those last two . . . If Sonny was single he'd likely work something out.
"Is all that necessary?" I asked. "The place is packed. She managed to get people in here during the day." Shorty had made flyers, had it so AJ whipped up dozens of hot wings for the lunch crowd. It's cheesy, but people were coming in. "You're making money—"
Sonny just shrugged his shoulders, leaving his hands in his pockets. "It's business, and if she feels a certain way—"
"You have my word," Layla whispered. "I was stupid…I just—I thought—I thought you were into me, and I fell hard and fast." She made another wrong turn, grabbing for Sonny's hand, and I didn't think I was supposed to hear her hushed words. It's no secret she's into him. It's written all over her face, and it's a joke amongst the girls—the dancers. If Sonny opened his eyes or removed his head from his ass, he'd know that.
He stepped back. "This is fucked." He lifted his hands. "You fucking wit' me, Andino?" He pointed a finger in my direction.
I shook my head. "No way, dude. Trust." My gut was in knots, feeling terrible for the girl. "Can you let me talk to her a minute?" I asked Sonny. "Then I wanna talk to you."
He groaned. "I gotta be home—" He looked to his phone again. "I gotta be home in an hour. Make it quick."
"Thank you," I said, because he didn't owe me shit. After all the remarks, all the crap I put on him, blamed him for . . . Mentally, I cringed at my own misdeeds, feeling guilty.
Sonny didn't say a word, silently leaving the office.
"Santino, wait!" Layla shouted for him.
"Mr. Cullen," he corrected, slamming the door behind himself.
"Oh!" She was about to run out after him.
"Stop," I shouted.
Her shoulders shook as she cried her eyes out.
"Come here." I left my chair to take her hand. "Relax, okay?"
She sniffled. "I love him."
"You don't." I smiled. "You went to hell and back, and he-he was a nice guy. Sonny took care of you, but you don't love him."
Sadly, I'd been where she was once in my life. Sixteen years ago, when I'd lost my memory, was in that accident and got shot, I thought I'd fallen in love with MC—Bella—because she was there for me during a time in my life when I needed someone in my corner the most.
"There's a name for it." I racked my brain. "When you go through something traumatic and you attach yourself to the-the first person you connect to." My thumbs wiped her tears away.
Back in the day, it took me a while to figure that shit out. On the outside, no one was the wiser. I'd pretended to go back to normal right away, but inside . . . I can't even lie to myself. That face—that was the first thing I saw when I woke up, the voice I swore I'd heard . . . and she was so patient and so kind, and when I recalled everything, my affection came as a shock. Lisa and I had been married for a year before I realized MC was just Bella, MC, Shortcake—the Skip's wife. Lisa made me forget, but then I'd see Bella . . . It was a very confusing time.
Yet, it wasn't something I could control. Now Bella's my sister through marriage and in my heart. I love her like I do Luciana, my real sister.
"If it wasn't for-for her, Maggie—"
"Don't say that." I handed her another tissue.
"It's true." She hiccupped. "We had something. It was magical and spine-tingling, and-and—"
"Look, when you're young…shit is confusing, mistaking like for love. But after what happened to you—"
She turned away, hugging herself.
I placed my finger under her chin, making her face me. "You're a strong woman. To go through what you have . . . Sonny makes you feel safe, whole, like you felt before it all happened, right?"
Layla nodded and started sobbing.
I rubbed her back. "Shhhh."
"He loves me, too," she said.
"You realize you can't pursue this. You're starting to scare me," I admitted. "We're friends, right?"
"Yeah." She wiped her eyes.
"Get this out your head from now. Try to work through your personal feelings, figure out . . ." Again, it'd taken me a while to get over my own demons, and there wasn't much I could say. "I'll try to save your job, but if you don't—if you keep pursuing him, you'll find yourself unemployed, and—" I wasn't going to elaborate on things I knew nothing about. Who knows? Maybe if she kept at him, he'd go for it, but I owed him this much. If at some point in time, Sonny wants to throw his marriage away, he can do what he wants. But I wasn't going to help that, or Layla with this bullshit. It also angered me. Fuck me. I was jealous. I'd been there for her, too . . .
I shook my head of my selfish thoughts.
"He's perfect and he has money, and—"
"If he was still with my daughter…?" I raised a brow.
She winced. "Even if…That doesn't say much about me, but there aren't many men like that still around. I didn't even care until he brought her in that night, and then they were married? What a fucking joke!" This was a side to her I'd never seen before: malicious.
"Layla…I'm trying to be your friend." I kept my tone hushed, and her going to these extremes . . . "You're gorgeous, okay? Any fucker out there, they'd be crazy to turn you down. You know? I just…" Yeah, when it came down to it, her feelings for Sonny always make me a little sad. Did I hope she'd feel that way about me? I actually had no idea. She reminded me so much of Lisa . . . I just . . .
My thoughts came to a halt, and I backed up a step. "Maybe you should find another job." I nodded. "Get the fuck outta here. You're too good for this place. My wife works for a huge production company. My son runs two restaurants. If you're stuck, I can hook you up with something."
"No!" She grabbed my hand. "Do whatever you have to do to save my job here. Please. I can't—I can't not see him." She seemed frantic. This wasn't the Layla I knew, nor was she the Layla Sonny knew.
"Layla," I warned, just looking at her. "Are you serious? You need to take a step back. You need to reassess. I promise. These feelings will pass. You just need to—"
"I can't think right when he's in my head." She pulled her hair.
I blew out a breath. "Why don't you take the night off? I'm sure Sonny will call you—"
"No. If he wants me to leave . . ." She shrugged. "He can make me leave."
"Now I want you to leave. Understand?" I didn't like the person in front of me, someone I'd built a rapport with, and yet she seemed a stranger. "This whole show you put on…"
She ran her hands up my chest. "I'll still do it. Just get my job back—" Her lips briefly touched mine before I pushed her away.
"Fuck no!" Pissed, I actually ushered her out of the office. "You need your fuckin' head examined." I bit my tongue, regretting those words, but sometimes the truth hurts.
"Aro, no—" With a nudge out into the hall, I stepped back quickly to slam the door shut.
"Fuck," I said to myself, confused as hell.
Maybe I'd seen myself in her. Maybe I could sympathize, but I was never so crazy. Well . . . there was that time, after my memory came back that I pretended it hadn't, asked Bella to come away with me. That shit was nuts, irrational, logic didn't exist. What replaced it were my erratic thoughts and my desperation. Even with my memory, I did not recognize myself. But I'd realized it was a mistake as soon as I'd uttered those words to MC that day.
When I heard someone knocking, I was wary to open the door. It was actually Ronnie, Alex's pops. I welcomed him in, and I didn't see Layla in the hall.
"What's going on with Layla? She okay?" he asked.
I just shook my head, at a loss as to what I should say.
"I gotta run." He was another one to slap his money down. "There's a little something extra in there for you and the Skip—had a good week."
I saluted him as he let himself out.
While he left, Abramo entered . . .
Then Anton followed him.
On and on went the night, and my head was totally fucked—thinking about the past, present, and future.
After Anton left, I continued to see fifteen of our guys—most of our capos. A select few won't even come near Eclipse on a Thursday night, those who are wary and cautious, and those who are deep into their anonymity and don't socialize with the crews that showed tonight.
Still, I'll see the others tomorrow night at Midnight Sun.
Some were fast to drop their tribute off and run, having other places to be, and a few had scores to settle—sit-downs I'd have to schedule. I actually wrote a list, my mind still fucked.
All the while I waited and waited for Sonny to come back to no avail. By midnight, I figured he'd taken off.
Luke came in to hand me the largest kick of the night, his loot. He said something about going to a late dinner with his daughter and Dame, and I wished him a good weekend.
When another hour went by, and no one else knocked on the door, I poked my head out. Carlisle needed to come in, pay me, and then we could split spoils. Caius hadn't paid me yet either.
The only money that gets handled directly to the Skip is mine—his large percentage of every dollar I was just given. It's done this way and has been done this way since this thing of ours began.
Just like any problems come to me first, so does the money, so nothing gets traced back to the Skip. It's a smart system, because if anything ever stuck to him, he'd know where it came from—me. It also covers his ass.
Fuck being the Skip. Everything I mentioned above is the highest honor in our world: the level of trust I've been granted, actually being the underboss, interacting with everyone. It is a lot of work. Years ago, I cringed at the thought of being where I am now, but it's a lot better than being a capo, or solely running a crew.
I'm no fool, though.
I know that—God forbid—if anything happened to Edward, this dynasty would be passed on to Sonny, as it rightfully should be. I have no qualms with that, no desire to fill the Skip's shoes.
"Yo!" I widened my arms for Caius.
He held up a finger, laughing his ass off at something someone said at that table. They truly were just chillin' tonight, having a good time.
That's when Sonny made eye contact with me. He'd said he had to be home in an hour, yet that ship sailed—passed and gone over two fucking hours ago.
"Come here!" I shouted for him now.
He left the booth with his signature bottle of Jack Daniel's. His steps were solid and he wasn't wearing a puss. "Wassup?" Sonny asked, getting closer.
I didn't say a word until he plopped down in his chair, the one I'd just been sitting in.
I closed the door, wondering where to start. "What happened with—"
"I had Momo make her leave. What the fuck, man? She was doing so well." He slumped in his seat. "I should get Ant in here. He's a dude, but he don't like chicks, so he won't step outta line with them. But he sucks with numbers, running them . . ." He swiveled around.
"You drunk?" I grinned.
"Tipsy at best…it's their fault—wanna celebrate my marriage now. Maggie's gonna kick my ass!" He laughed. "They only did it to cheer me up…I dunno."
I sighed, sitting across from him. "Look—"
"No, you look." He sat up, all previous amusement gone. "I don't want to discuss Katie or that shit. Understand? It happened, and I don't even care to know why. Your daughter did me dirty, Aro."
"I know that," I said. "And—"
"Don't." He waved a finger. "Just don't. If I think about it, then I gotta get angry, and I don't wanna be angry. It fucks with my head." He stabbed his temple with his finger. "I'm going on vacation tomorrow. And by the time I get back, I hope the past two days are a distant memory. Capisce?"
"How much have you drunk?" I asked, as he was awfully lighthearted no matter how harsh his words came across.
"It's them." He pointed to the door. "My father thinks it's an act—that I'm this okay, but it's true. I was heartbroken, fucking gutted, but…I have Maggie."
"You do have Maggie." I nodded, knowing this was all an act. Truth be told, I can't imagine the level of pain he must be feeling. "But—"
"I won't hurt her," he whispered. "You just keep her away from me. Have her drive off into the sunset in that Blazer—"
"What?" I wondered how he knew that much.
He shrugged. "People tell me shit. And I'm not that drunk, and I'm not that okay with what happened. But I'm trying to be a better person."
"Well, thank fuck for that." I deadpanned.
He sipped from his bottle. "I really have to go."
"I have your word?" I asked.
He nodded. "For what it's worth, sure. You can have it."
"Sonny—"
He pursed his lips. "Keep her away from me."
"Done." I promised.
"Do you have any idea how much she's fucked with me? My whole life..." He widened his arms, chuckling bitterly. "I'm trying not to lose my temper. I'm trying to be better. I'm trying, trying, trying, Aro, and that's I can seem to do." His voice was filled with emotion.
"I am so sorry," I said. "I'm sorry for that—what happened, the comments, being a dick. The whole fucking thing."
He just shook his head, staring down. "What am I supposed to say to that? It's okay? Because none of it was okay, but I don't give a fuck about what you think anyway." He snorted. "Now that's…" he pointed at me, "the truth."
"Right." I knew that was bullshit, too. Sonny cares a whole lot about what his father and I think of him.
"And maybe…maybe in a few years, before I'm thirty, I'll be having a baby of my own," he sighed.
"That Layla shit—"
He waved a hand. "Another bitch I don't wanna talk about." I wanted to jump at that comment, but I ate it. "Why can't people just leave me alone?" His eyes met mine, and this was the Sonny I knew. He shoots off with his mouth, defends himself, but when we're alone . . . when he lets his guard down, he's an open book, much like his mother. "I mean, seriously. I'm finally happy, and the world says, fuck you! You're not allowed to be happy. What's up with that, Aro? Tell me. My brother still wants to fuck my wife, Layla wants to fuck me, or kill my rabbit." He cackled.
"You have a rabbit?" I laughed.
"That movie…"
I nodded, laughing some more. "So, we cool?"
"Listen." He stood up. "Just stay outta my way, and I'll stay outta yours. We gotta work together, that's a different story, and keep Katie away from me. That's it."
"Understandable . . . but I am sorry."
He sucked his teeth, walking out. "Everyone's sorry . . . but I'm the one who has to show my face." Sonny opened the door for Caius. "What the fuck you want now?"
Caius looked him up and down, and I knew that face. C-bag's wondering if the kid's serious, coming out his mouth like that.
"Wrong timing," I commented. "He's here for me," I told Sonny.
"Yeah, Junior. Beat it," Caius laughed. "This chump wants to get in my face?" C-Bag pointed to himself. Sadly, he had the wrong timing, and he said the wrong fucking thing. He didn't even see Sonny throw his fist out.
Caius dropped his drink, was knocked to the ground, but came up swinging. Sonny was fast to tackle his ass to the ground. And I was faster to hop over those fucks to close the door—keep prying eyes away.
"Yo!" I went to pull Sonny off of him. He was laying a beat down on Caius, just plowing into him.
When he realized he didn't have the upper hand, Caius reached for his belt, for his heat. I tossed Sonny away, kicking at C-Bag's arm. His nine flew across the room.
"You can't fight me? You pussy?" Sonny laughed and then kicked him right in his face.
"Chill out!" I pulled him back, but I couldn't get a good handle on him now. Sonny kept going for Caius, kicking him, punching him, fucking wailing on him. He overpowered me, blind rage guiding him. "Sonny!"
He spit in Caius's face. "Who's the chump?" He licked his bloodied lip, panting, his eyes crazed yet unseeing. I guess Sonny finally found the outlet for his temper.
I massaged my forehead, staring down. "What the fuck?" Caius wasn't moving.
Sonny shrugged his shoulders. "Take him to the emergency room. I'll foot the bill." He threw a five spot down onto his body, going for the door.
"Hold up." I pulled on his sleeve, and he turned raising his fist. "You serious?" I was quick to place my hand on his forearm. "You gonna swing at me now?"
Sonny calmed down, letting out a large breath.
Sucking my teeth, I bent low to feel for a pulse, and then my eyes widened when I didn't fucking feel one. "What did you do?"
"What?" Sonny asked.
"He's dead," I said.
He rolled his eyes. "Stop fucking with me."
I grabbed his fucking hand, pulling it down and placing it on Caius's neck. "You feel somethin'?"
Sonny looked surprised. "I killed him."
I groaned, standing to kick the chair. "Goddammit, Sonny! I told you once, and your father told you twice!" This kid's been asking for our blessing the past few months—to clip Caius.
He shrugged. "He has comments every time my brother's name is mentioned—all sore about him getting a pass. I never trusted him any-fucking-way."
"He's a dick! In every sense of that word, he's a ball-breaking prick, but he knew where his loyalties laid. He liked to bust chops. Fuck!" I fisted my hair. "Do you know how much money he brings in alone?"
Sonny shook his head. "Sooner or later, he would have—"
"He would have done nothing!" I shouted. "Your father is going to have your ass." I had no idea what the Skip would do. If he gave Dame a pass, he'd most likely give Sonny one. But . . . he might not. "Just go," I whispered.
"What?" he asked.
"I'll clean this up—I did it. Just fucking bounce."
"I'm not letting you take the heat for this. I did this." He pointed down. "Pop'll go easier on me."
"Or set an example. He can't let you both get away with shit. Fuck! He left—all right? Caius went out the back or something. I'll clean up after Eclipse closes." I had no other immediate plans. Besides Jasper and me, Caius was our biggest earner. With this, we were taking a huge pay-cut, and Sonny might have to pay out his eyeballs for it.
"I'll help you . . . Just lemme call Maggie. Fuck. She's gonna be pissed."
"You're worried about her?" I snorted.
"Dude." He wore a serious face. "She's sweet, comes in a cute package, but you ain't never seen her angry."
"Get the fuck outta hea." I shook my head. "You're ready to face your father's wrath, but Jailbait frightens you?" It was hilarious and sad all at the same time.
"Don't fucking call her that!"
"My bad." I put my palms up. "Let's just go out there, have a few more drinks . . . Hopefully, I mean, I'll make some shit up. Hopefully, Skip believes me, okay? I'll settle up with him tomorrow—count out this shit in the morning." I gestured to the desk.
"Dad's having a really good time." Sonny nodded.
"Right. You go, send him in." If Edward was in a good mood, we'd get a better outcome.
"Now?" he asked.
"I'm torn here . . ." I admitted, 'cause it wasn't like this was some knock-around dude, some schmuck. It was fucking C-bag. "I mean, yeah. Send Skip in now."
"You don't have to do this," he laughed, and he was so wrong.
"Actually, I do. I owe you. And I urge you to take it."
"No," he said.
"Santino." I held his biceps. "Go get your father, you keep your fucking mouth shut, and you go home. That's a fucking order."
He put his head down.
"Understand?" I asked.
His eyes met mine. "Worse comes to worst, you just tell him it was me. I'll take a hit—owe him more money each week."
"Relax. He won't clip me."
"You believe that?" Sonny laughed at me, a little chuckle as he let himself out of the office. I gave him the finger. All of which made him laugh harder. "Seriously." He composed himself, coming back to the office. "You don't—"
"Go!" I pointed.
As soon as the door was closed, I ransacked Caius's pockets. The money he had on him to kick up, I placed in my jacket along with the contents of his pockets. I had a stupid idea that I hoped would sound plausible.
I scooped up his nine, placing it in my waist as Skip opened the door.
"Fuck…" He quickly slammed it closed, staring down at Caius. "Sonny did this?"
"No," I said.
He smirked, holding his lips. "I know you didn't do this."
I nodded. "Actually, he's been ducking me for weeks."
"What'chu mean?" He quirked a brow, bending low. "You get his pockets?"
"There was nothing in there." I leaned my ass against the desk. "Listen, I've been paying his tribute the past few weeks. Then we got into it . . . I got too carried away. I didn't mean to snuff'em."
"Really?" He nodded, pursing his lips, and he didn't believe me.
"He made some bad bets…The Giants are having a lousy season—"
"Try again. C-Bag was a Jets fan."
"Fuck!" I couldn't believe I blew it with the human lie detector over such a dumb-ass technicality. But who was I kidding? I know when his ass is lying, too—more so than Sonny's crafty ass.
"He never gambled . . . I always thought youse two were cool…like you knew him?" He stared at me. And even if I know when he's dishonest, I couldn't get a read on him at the moment—had no idea if I'd catch hell for this or not.
"We ran together for years. All he talked about were broads, never sports, although bagging bitches was a sport to him." I shook my head. "It happened. Does it matter who did it?"
He was calm, his eyes glassy with his intoxication.
"Skip?" I asked.
"I guess it doesn't . . ." His answer surprised me; I was taken aback. "You're going to make it up to me, right? The same way you're taking the rap to make it up to Sonny?"
I nodded.
"I'll be pissed about this tomorrow." He pointed down. "Trust . . . but you shouldn't cover for him."
"I know," I said. "Hallmark doesn't make a 'Oops, you're not the father' card, though."
The Skip lost his shit, barked out a laugh and bent over in hysterics. "Holy shit." This was so unlike him.
"Did'ju smoke?" I asked.
Edward sighed, composing himself. "Yeah . . . Very few times I get to just chill, you know?" He frowned then.
"Very true." Without jinxing shit, everything was relatively calm except for the family drama.
"Sonny did this, though?" He scrunched his nose.
"Yeah." I stared down at Caius. "He ran his mouth . . . I was talking to Sonny about some shit, then C-bag ragged on him at the wrong time. Sonny didn't mean to clip him."
"Ha! I'm sure he did." He grimaced. "We got our button together. I ever tell you that?" His eyes met mine.
I nodded. "A few times."
"He was the ballsiest motherfucker back in the day, too. I had heart, but Caius . . . He was always a few years older, a little cooler. It was only when I knew better that he became a douchebag."
I chuckled. "He was always a prick."
Skip did the Sign of the Cross. "Where you gonna dump him?"
I puffed my cheeks. "Does it matter?"
"Guess not." He looked sad. "That little motherfucker."
I was quiet, had no idea what to say. "I'll make this up to you."
"Nah, it's just . . . What? Now Sonny thinks he's Teflon?" he laughed.
"No way." I rushed out. "He didn't mean to kill him. Circumstances notwithstanding . . . Look, I'd rather it was C-bag than he runs into Katie in the 'hood, words are exchanged . . ."
"Very true. But my son feels no remorse. He's out there doing shots with Carlisle." He jerked a thumb. "If it was a mistake, I think he'd be more torn up about it."
"Be honest. You gonna miss Caius? I mean, be real."
"I'll miss his money." He scratched his nose. "Let's get a drink. You ain't touching this shit while I'm here." He gazed down.
"One drink, and then you gotta get the fuck outta here," I said.
"True." He mused, trailing off with a sigh. "Ugh!" He stiffened, getting the aggravation out. "Motherfucking kids, man. I wouldn't even give a fuck about this if I was a grandpa."
"She's a cutie . . . we can share." I chuckled.
"Don't get all cunty on me." He scoffed, leaving the office. Then he turned around. "You got pictures?" My man has always been a fan of babies, no matter whose they were.
"A few."
"Show me when the kid's not around." He tapped the wall and then left the office.
And I knew . . . Maybe it wouldn't be tomorrow, or over the weekend, but Sonny and I were going to catch some shit for this.
Caius wasn't too bloody, and I was able to wrap him right quick with a blanket. As I left the office, I locked it, double locked it, and then went for their table.
While I walked over, my mind traveled back to Layla, but then I pushed it out of my mind. In the grand scheme of shit, she was Sonny's employee—his problem, and I no longer owed him anything.
"So, then—listen to this." Skip was already elbow-deep in a story when I sat down. "I walk up to Sonny's crib, Dame opens the door, but fucking Maggie's standing there with a nine!" They all laughed their asses off.
"Maggie?" I asked.
"I told you," Sonny said.
"It wasn't loaded." The Skip looked to me. "Clip was full, but…"
I snapped my fingers for a drink, needing like five of them shits badly—ten to catch up to these fucks.
"Yo, I dunno what's up with that kid." Skip shook his head, speaking of Dame.
"He's lucky I had other shit on my mind. I heard everything," Sonny groaned. "I don't wanna talk about that shit either. I called him. We're meeting for lunch when I'm back from Florida."
"So, what can we talk about?" Carlisle widened his arms. "What's a safe topic for you, nephew?"
As the table fell silent and I was served my drink, I peeped Sonny's li'l wifey stomping into the joint. "Holy shit!" She was bundled in a coat, but she was wearing pajamas underneath, polka dot pants and shit.
"What?" They all turned to follow my line of sight, Skip drawing his heat.
"What the fuck?" Sonny hopped over his father to get out of the booth.
Carlisle nudged my arm. "This shit's gonna be hilarious—Shorty thinking she can just roll up like this." He was getting a kick out of it, and I bet Maggie didn't know—that she couldn't just show up here. It's not like Sonny works at a factory, or an office.
"Good. You're alive!" Maggie shouted before she turned around, that kid Gino behind her.
"Hold up." Sonny stopped her.
"No . . . You were supposed to be home three hours ago, Santino!" She had fire in her eyes, and Sonny was right. Lau or Lisa never ran up in the place like this.
"Little chick has balls," Carlisle said in my ear.
"I—"
"Don't lie to me." She cut Sonny off.
"I think she stole Sonny's stones," Carlisle laughed, and he might have been correct. Our boy was standing there . . . letting his li'l chick tear him a new one, damn near curling in on himself, looking apologetic and like he might beg for forgiveness. And this is the same fucker who just whacked Caius. It made no sense—was a contradiction—but then I'd never let Lisa do this shit to me. She'd catch mad hell for it.
"Come here, hon." Skip waved her over to the table. "Come have a drink with your father-in-law." He chuckled.
"Dad!" Sonny shouted.
"What?" he asked. "And if she takes a swing at you, I'll buy her a Lexus." He jerked his head.
Carlisle and I laughed hysterically.
Despite Edward's jovial mood, Maggie looked reluctant to approach the table. She faced Sonny instead. "Just . . . when you say you're going to be home by eleven. Come home at eleven or call . . . I was worried." She ended in a whisper. "I'm sorry for disturbing your evening." She told us.
"Fuck that. C'mere." Skip gestured for her to join us again.
Maggie politely declined, turning toward Gino.
"I'm sorry." Sonny grasped her hand.
She kept her gaze low.
"Aren't they adorable?" Skip asked. "Bella would'a punched me in the face," he whispered, and I snorted. "Seriously, Maggie-Mags, come have a drink."
Sonny gestured to the booth.
I sipped my scotch while Maggie had wide eyes, staring at me. "What's your poison?" I asked her.
"Appletini?" Sonny asked.
She shook her head. "Soda?"
"You can't have soda here," Carlisle said. "Surprise her with something sweet. Balls that big…" He slapped money into my hand. "Her first drink's on me. Hell, you want a dance, sweetheart? My treat."
We all chuckled at that.
"All right." Sonny stopped Maggie from sitting down. "Youse got a good laugh. We're leaving." He pulled her into his side.
"Come on." Carlisle widened his arms.
"No, he's right . . . I need to get my ass home, too." Skip smiled. "Gino can gimme a ride." He left the booth.
"You chillin', gonna help a dude out?" I asked Carlisle.
He raised a brow. "Fuck…Help you with what?"
I chuckled to myself as the rest of our party left Eclipse.
/=/=/=/=/
Two hours later, the club was empty. No one was here, and I was left to close up. Carlisle did what he was good at, counting money and separating it, while I got busy cleaning the office. I used two of those black industrial trash bags and a shitload of duct tape to wrap Caius up.
Then I bleached the floor. After all these years, the process goes by quickly, and the sun was about to rise as we loaded Caius into the back of my whip.
"Can we get coffee?" Carlisle looked dead on his feet, massaging his forehead.
"Yeah." I sniffled, the stench of bleach still stuck in my nose.
"We taking the boat out or…?" he asked, hopping into the front seat.
I followed in after him, starting the car, and I hadn't the faintest clue. "We could hotwire C-Bag's speed boat? It's out in Jamaica Bay."
"Whatever . . . Alex is gonna have my ass."
I nodded. "Lisa just can't believe that shit comes up."
"It's gonna be cold as fuck." Carlisle was already shivering, placing his hands by the heaters.
"Bitch," I commented.
"I'm tired, too." He yawned. "But listen, I don't know what game my brother's playing . . . how calm he was?" Carlisle turned to face me.
I shrugged. "He asked to see pics of my granddaughter…"
"Yeah, but he was too calm. I hope he was genuine. You know? Sonny and he had a long-ass talk. What did he say to you?"
"He didn't want to discuss it." I pulled off. "Sonny gave me his word—he won't touch Katie. He has no right to do so . . . Sure, what she did was wrong, but they weren't married."
"Thank fuck for that shit."
I blew out a breath, driving out of the alley. "I'm sure he's pissed, especially after this shit." I jerked my head to the back.
"We smoked before we got here. I swear to Christ. Weed is like the Skip-be-good magic trick." Carlisle threw his head back and laughed. "Just watch yourself."
"I always do," I whispered, stopping at a red light. "I always do."
We never took the boat out. We drove three blocks before Carlisle suggested we make it so our buddy could have a funeral. So, we drove up to the Bronx, to the seediest neighborhood, the darkest, quietest street, and just tossed his ass near a dumpster.
Then we went back to Eclipse to shower, clean up some more and have an Irish coffee.
As we walked out into the sunshine, I blanched back, shielding my eyes. "Fuck me, man."
Carlisle laughed, cigarette hanging from his mouth. "I need to call my secretary." He dug his cell out.
"No work?" I clicked my car's remote, hopping in.
He sighed. "Maybe later…get the twins off to school, catch a nap." He yawned.
"Dude, you have toddlers." I pulled away from the curb.
"My old ass has toddlers." He smiled. "They make me feel young." He placed his phone to his ear, making his call.
Carlisle fell asleep after he got off the phone with his secretary, and I didn't give a fuck. I blasted some music, but because my boy has toddlers, Carlisle didn't stir. When I pulled up to his crib, I gave him a nudge as I saw Li'l Eddie.
He made a face as his father stumbled out of the car. "Late night again, Dad?"
"Yeah…" He stretched.
"Right. See ya!" Li'l Eddie waved, walking across the street.
I watched him go and then turned to my buddy. "See ya!"
Carlisle smiled, strolling up his walkway.
It was going on seven o'clock, and if I hurried home I could catch Lisa before she left for work. The ten minutes it took to get me home actually dragged to twenty—morning traffic, school buses, and it wasn't like I could dodge them.
Luck was on my side, though. My wife was leaving our crib, trying to balance her travel mug and her briefcase as she locked the door.
"Hey!" I shouted, opening the garage.
She stopped, smirking at me but she was fast to frown.
"Oh!" I grinned, wondering what that was about.
"I'm going to be late." She went for her Mercedes.
"Wait up." I hopped out of my car to sprint to her. "You gonna leave without kissing your husband?"
She sighed, turning to me. "Do you even deserve one?"
"Get over here." I pulled her into my arms, not caring about the coffee or her work shit. "Christ . . . Some days I miss you more than others." I searched her eyes, feeling a warmness in my gut, this comforting feeling, like no matter what—everything would be okay—something only Lisa can do.
"You smell like Ivory Soap," she whispered.
"Lisa—"
She pushed against my chest. "I'm gonna be late."
"No." I wouldn't let go of her hand. "I'm not fucking around. I'm not hiding anything. Well…baby, I need you to trust me." Truthfully, I was tired of this conversation, but I couldn't stop saying it.
"And you need to trust me, too—tell me things." She opened her car door.
"Just stop." I nudged it closed, taking both her hands. "Can we go inside—talk?"
"I have a meeting—"
"Fuck it," I said.
"Bella says—"
"We're not Edward and Bella." I nuzzled my nose to her cheek, but maybe I did need to tell my wife more.
She nodded, staring down. "Just tell me you're not."
"I'm not," I whispered, gazing into her eyes. "On my life, baby."
"You had to clean." She looked down.
Her words surprised me, but I nodded. "How—"
"It was either that or you were sleeping around. I'm not stupid. I've been around. I've seen things. And it really sucks when you lie awake at night hoping—hoping someone died and that's the reason you're not home," she cried.
I grinned . . . because she cared. "Only you."
Her chin wrinkled and she wrapped her arms around me. "I miss you."
I groaned, hugging her tightly. "You have no idea." My nose buried itself in her hair, inhaling deeply. "God, I love you…and I'm not perfect, but…Lisa, I'm here. I'm not going anywhere. I've made stupid mistakes, put others first, but I haven't—"
She chuckled, pulling away and wiping her eyes. "What'd you do?"
"Nothing like that," I laughed.
"I'm not perfect either."
"You're pretty close." I palmed her cheek. "Meet me halfway. Let's fucking go away together." I shrugged. "After the holidays, after shit with Katie is settled…"
She nodded.
"C'mere." My fingers wove into her hair, and I claimed her mouth—tongues tangling, the both of us moaning . . .
"Um…" She panted, molded to me. "Take me to bed."
"Fuck, yeah." I pulled her into the house like someone was chasing us.
Thank you for reading.
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