Bad for You

Eight

I watch.

Like I do most nights.

Hoping that he will come.

But like most nights, he never does.

But tonight is different.

Tonight is different because I will make him come to me.

I slink into my hoodie as I adjust it around my face. Now is a time when I don’t want to stand out in the crowd. Well, not for my looks anyhow.

This deserted factory once manufactured chocolate. Now, nothing sweet is made here. This place is so far off the beaten path that the cops don’t even bother coming out here anymore. The brave assholes who call this place home are their own authorities and pass judgment how they deem fit, which is why I need to watch my ass.

Here, I am the underdog.

Not the alpha.

But I need to run with this pack.

So I have to play nice.

Roll over.

Sit.

Whatever they say, I have to do.

I don’t make eye contact with anyone, but I swear to fuck, the dregs of society call this place their home. It’s a cesspool of filth. But I need to use these fuckers to show Aldo that I’m different.

And that’s why I’m here.

I’ve gone back to ignoring Valentina. It’s fair to say that her hatred for me has grown. But my plan worked. I see that her focus has changed in the way she trains with Franklin. She doesn’t fight in haste. She watches and strategizes.

Gianna has been quiet since the night of the party. I know that’s because she is up to something. What, however, I don’t know.

Which is why I’m here.

I wanted to prove my loyalty to Aldo another way. But time is running out.

I can’t go to Aldo and spill Gianna’s secrets because I’ll be seen as disloyal. I’ll be seen as a rat. And if I could betray the woman who “raised” me, why wouldn’t I betray a man I don’t know? He will assume Gianna sent me.

I don’t need to draw a diagram of how that scenario ends—me without my head.

So I have to be smart.

I need to prove myself. They need to do their homework without me telling them who I am.

And that is why I fall back behind the crowd, watching two meatheads smack the shit out of each other. Men from all wakes of life holler at their favorites, clutching onto their colored ticket stubs like it’s their golden ticket.

I laugh at the analogy.

It’s our very own Willy Wonka Fight Club.

The men are all brawn, no brains. They are built like brick shithouses, but that doesn’t make a good fighter. One man has a blue sash. The other a red. That’s the only way the spectators know who’s who. No names are used. No friends are made.

This is about making money and, of course, to find minions for Aldo.

Three men stand off to the side. Two are identical twins. The other looks to be about twelve years old. But looks are deceiving because I know they’re lethal. They are also Aldo’s men, so I need to get them on my side.

The crowd cheers when Blue pushes Red into the circle of rabid men. They shove the half-dead man back into Blue, who punches him square in the jaw. Red wavers before falling flat onto his face.

The fight is done.

Red tickets are crumpled into tight balls and tossed onto the ground in rage as they have bet on the wrong horse. Blue tickets are held tightly, however, because their champion has won.

A man in overalls grips Red by the feet and drags his unconscious body from the circle. No one looks twice.

No one here cares about humanity. Only money.

The open fire drums cackle loudly, illuminating this shithole in oranges and yellows and amplifying the bloodstains on the broken concrete. The structure is barely standing. It sets the perfect scene for a battlefield I’m about to conquer and defeat.

A man with a pink sash soon takes Red’s place and charges Blue without warning. The animalistic screams of the men reflect the hard-ons they have for violence. It seems we’re all sick fucks, animated by bloodshed and carnage.

Blue reads his move. This isn’t his first rodeo, judging by the many scars on his face and body. I dare say he’s the crowd favorite, which means I’m going to have fun knocking his ass to the ground.

I study the way he moves.

He’s taller and bigger than me. But that isn’t going to be an issue. I’ve fought bigger than him before and won.

He counts to three before he punches. I read it in the way he hesitates before each punch. And on cue, he confirms my suspicions.

One…

Two…

Three…

Punch.

Pink takes the hit and springs back, getting in a shot which seems to shock Blue.

Not only is he a trash fighter but he’s arrogant too.

This is really going to be too easy.

With my head bowed, I subtly push my way past the frothing assholes who are focused on nothing but the slabs of meat who are their cash cows. No one pays any attention to me. I don’t look like a threat. And this will be their downfall.

I stand off to the side, ensuring I’m not in anyone’s way.

Blue is the winner of this fight. Pink doesn’t stand a chance. I wonder if perhaps this is rigged because this isn’t a fair fight. That would explain why Blue’s face looks like he had a late-night rendezvous with a mulcher.

This isn’t his first rodeo.

The crowd is wild as the men fight, and when Blue shoves Pink, he stumbles backward, straight into me. Blue comes charging toward him, but Pink sidesteps, and when Blue swings, he connects with my jaw.

The frenzied screams of the men suddenly cease, the echo of their ecstasy the only thing that pulsates in the air. I grin, wiping the trickle of blood from my mouth with my thumb. Before Blue can get out a word, I punch him square in the face.

The heightened energy of the rabid men is almost suffocating because they know what’s about to happen. So does Pink as he disappears into the throngs of people since this isn’t his fight any longer.

Blue shakes his head, stunned, but soon recovers.

It’s on.

We charge for one another, but he doesn’t stand a chance because he’s my way in. I know Aldo’s men are watching, and I plan on making an example out of Blue.

I punch him again, catching him unawares. He staggers back, and I then deliver an uppercut. I hear his teeth crunch, and when he spits one out, it bounces on the ground, and he knows his luck is over.

He looks in the direction of the three men, confirming my suspicions—this fight is rigged.

I hate cheaters.

But to be fair, I do hate most people, and Blue is the person I plan on taking my anger out on.

I punch him in the ribs, the stomach, and then deliver a combo of punches to his face. I was trained to fight and fight properly, so this dirty rat doesn’t stand a chance.

He is heavy on his feet, his meaty fists attempting to connect with me, but I duck to the left, then the right as he swings, and the moment he’s open, I king-hit him in the face.

He wavers on his feet, attempting to focus, but I wave him good night as he collapses onto his front, out cold.

The bloodlust rouses my demons, but I keep them at bay. I need Aldo’s men to see control and discipline. I need them to see my value so they invite me in.

The silence is soon filled with raucous roars as men slap me on the back. I’m their new victor, but I shrug them off because I didn’t do this to make new friends. Slipping my hoodie back on, I make a beeline for the exit, but one of the twins steps forward, blocking my path.

He sizes me up.

I stand unwavering, and when he doesn’t move, I chuckle. “Unless you’re about to buy me dinner and show me a good time, I suggest you move.”

I attempt to push past Tweedledee, but his brother, Tweedledum, steps in.

“Oh, look,” I quip, folding my arms across my chest. “There are two of you…your poor mother.”

Tweedledum snarls, but the younger-looking dude appears, calming these jacked-up fucks down. He’s clearly in charge. The two bigger guys are the beef. And this dude is the brains.

Again, looks can be deceiving because this dude may seem harmless, weak even, but that works in his favor, tricking presumptuous fucks who’ll regret underestimating his size.

“What’s your name?”

I simply laugh in response.

His poker face doesn’t slip, and I know he plays hardball. “You’re here for a reason. Follow me, pretty boy.”

When I don’t move, I feel the unmistakable poke of a gun barrel being pressed into the small of my back.

“Since you asked so nicely,” I taunt, following him.

The rowdy crowd looks at one another, confused as they don’t know who the winner is. I leave behind a storm of chaos—just the way I like it.

A large black SUV is parked ahead.

The door opens as we walk toward it. But no one gets out. Tweedledum nudges me forward with the gun, and I do something really fucking stupid, which is why it’s a great idea—I spin around and punch him in the mouth.

He stumbles on his feet and almost trips, which infuriates him. Just as he is about to pistol-whip me, a man’s face appears from the back seat of the SUV.

“Enough, Rocco.”

A rumble erupts from me. “Nice to see your name is as lame as you are.”

Rocco launches forward, but the man scolds him in Italian. It takes all his willpower to hold back, but in the end, the punishment isn’t worth kicking my ass for, so he stands down.

“Good dog,” I mutter under my breath.

This really is too easy.

I walk toward the SUV, and the man dressed immaculately in a navy pinstripe suit and crisp white shirt has me guessing this is Aldo.

His short dark hair is graying at the temples. At a guess, I’d say he’s early fifties. With his good looks and the power he exudes, I can imagine he is loved but also feared.

“I would ask who you are, but I don’t think you’d answer me.”

“You’d guess right.” I slide into the SUV, whistling as I take in the leather interior.

The car smells like a forest after a storm. I’m assuming it’s Aldo’s cologne.

Rocco and his brother wait outside while the younger dude joins us inside. He closes the door. The privacy screen between the driver’s seat and the back seat rolls up, enclosing us like we’re one big happy family.

Aldo looks at me with nothing but curiosity.

I like him already.

He doesn’t need to assert his authority with threats or bad manners. He reeks of control and power, like a true leader should.

“Drink?”

I nod.

He pours some scotch into a crystal glass, offering it to me.

I accept.

He pours one for himself, and I wait. I’m his guest after all.

“Shall we make a toast?”

I shrug, waiting for him to make a point because I know there is one.

“To prosperity and good health.” He raises his glass.

I raise mine.

“Saluti.”

“Cheers.”

I don’t want to give away my Italian roots. I need him to believe our meeting was fate.

We both throw back our drinks.

I wait again because, like Aldo, I wish to exert my power through composure, not fear. He doesn’t speak. Simply smiles. But this is a test. You can tell a lot about a person by how they respond to silence.

Someone who can sit alone in a setting filled with noise and be utterly content in their own company is totally comfortable within themselves. They don’t need friends to entertain them because they enjoy their own company best.

I know this feeling well because I’m not a people person.

I would much rather be comfortable in the silence than fill it with bullshit small talk. It’s not something that a lot of people can do, and that’s because most people would rather engage in nonsense than face the reality that is their lives.

But men like Aldo, they are always alone.

They may come across as a social being, but it’s all for looks.

People are a means to an end. We all serve a purpose in someone’s story. If they think we will benefit them somehow, they offer us their time and energy because everyone wants something from someone.

We’re all in it for ourselves. Anyone who says otherwise is lying.

And when our purpose is fulfilled, then it’s thanks for the memories.

NEXT!

We live in a disposable world; sad but true.

But men like Aldo flourish in the silence, and when they find a fellow lone wolf, he sees in them what he does in himself, which is strength.

Although they work alone, they need an army of like-minded men who see that he too serves a purpose in their story and will do what they must to get what they want.

Never think anyone is doing anything out of the kindness of their heart.

Rookie mistake number one.

However, this is Aldo’s territory, so I show him the respect he expects.

“You fight with skill.” He crosses an ankle over his knee. “I won’t waste either of our time by asking who taught you.”

I nod, appreciating him not boring us with small talk.

“You’re here with purpose, so what is it? Please don’t insult me and deny it. Tell me what it is you want.”

I match his composure. “It’s only a matter of time until someone wants more because someone always wants more.”

Aldo listens intently.

“That dumbass you have fighting for you? He’s cocky, which makes him stupid. He thinks he’s untouchable, which also makes him dangerous.”

“Why is this your concern?” the guy whose name I still don’t know asks.

“Because I’m confident, not cocky. I know to never underestimate the underdog.” I make a point to look at him because I saw through him the moment I laid eyes on him. “I’m also a better fighter. I’m a better fighter than most.”

“And what good is that to us?” he questions while Aldo listens.

“I don’t want any enemies. I’m not interested in overthrowing your empire. I only want what is owed to me because of the work I put in. Let me fight for you, and you won’t need to rig any matches because I’ll win fair and square.

“At the moment, I assume you organize the fights to take place in these shitholes because you want to keep it low-key. But if I fight for you, we aim for bigger and better. And that means more bodies, more money…and more motherfuckers to sell your gear to.”

The guy reaches behind him to no doubt pull a piece on me, but Aldo shakes his head once.

“You’re a very clever young man. You got all this from watching?”

I nod.

Aldo mulls over my comment before brushing invisible dirt from his vest. I notice a gold pinkie ring with a purple stone. “If this young man was able to see all this, you failed at your job, Glenn.”

A laugh escapes me because his name is Glenn ? For real?

Glenn knows better than to challenge his boss.

“What is owed to you?” Aldo asks, circling back to what I said.

“I win fights and do whatever jobs you need me to do. I give you my loyalty, and in return, I find my brother.”

Glenn scoffs, but something changes in Aldo, and I wonder if that something has to do with Valentina.

“Family is invaluable,” he says with sincerity. “A man may have many riches, but without family, he is penniless.”

He speaks from experience.

“What do you know of crystals?”

“Crystals?” I ask in case I misheard him.

But it’s apparent I haven’t when he nods. “Different crystals have their own energies which can align one’s life in all different ways.”

I wait for the punchline, but there is none.

“Have you worked behind a counter?”

I shake my head, unsure if this is code for something.

He reaches into the console and produces a business card.

I accept and silently read over the description.

Aldo Cattaneo—Opal imports and lapidary.

I was right about one thing at least. But crystals, really?

I can’t really imagine Aldo sitting under a full moon in a drum circle while summoning the goddess of health to grant him inner peace.

This has to be a front, and a smart one at that.

“Come to that address tomorrow. Ten a.m. If you’re interested.”

And just like that, I’m dismissed.

I pocket the business card and open the door, but Aldo has one last thing to say before I go.

“Be careful what you’re willing to sacrifice because sometimes the past is best left alone. I’m Aldo, by the way.”

“Lennon,” I finally reveal.

It’s not a warning but free advice, which I assume he doesn’t give out often. I don’t know how I know, but I just do—Aldo and I are going to be great friends.

It’s late by the time I arrive home.

The urge to check in on Valentina, as always, has me heading into the kitchen instead. Opening the fridge, I grab a beer. Tossing the cap into the sink, I throw it back and ponder over tonight’s fucked-up proceedings.

I’m not naive. I know Aldo will test me before he welcomes me into the “family.” I wonder what I’ll have to give up to achieve what I want.

The thought has me downing the rest of the beer.

“You’re home late.”

Gianna making small talk?

This won’t end well.

“Couldn’t sleep,” I reply bluntly, throwing the empty beer bottle into the trash. “Night.”

I attempt to walk past her, but she grips my wrist.

I exhale slowly because I don’t like being touched, and she knows this. She usually respects my space, but as I look at her, I know the plan I thought she was formulating is about to be put into play.

“You smell”—she searches for the right words but settles for something I’m certain she didn’t intend—“different.”

“I went for a run. I’m about to hit the shower.”

It’s a blunt hint, one she ignores.

“What happened to your face?”

“I ran into a door.”

Her lips twist into a smirk, but it’s akin to a spider as she watches her prey, trapped in her web, attempting to set itself free.

“I’ve taught you better than that. Sarcasm is a fool’s tool. If you have something to say, then say it.”

I snatch my arm back and glare at her. I only just realize that she’s wearing a sheer nightgown, and the moonlight shining into the large windows accentuates her bare form beneath.

The analogy of the spider suddenly is more accurate than I thought.

“I want to know where my brother is,” I say blankly, tired of her games. “I also want to know what exactly you want with Valentina.”

“I want the best for her. I want the best for you both.”

I scoff, unmoved by her lies.

“And the best for her is killing a man?”

Gianna brushes back her long hair.

She is beautiful. A femme fatale with her long black hair and red lips. I hate to admit it, but it’s the truth. But her ugliness on the inside overshadows any exterior beauty.

“I didn’t raise little crybabies. But perhaps I underestimated you.”

She’s baiting me, so I remain calm.

“You’re an adult now, Lenny. You can leave at any time. But you choose to stay. We both know why that is.”

There is a double meaning to her words.

I stay for Lewis.

But more so, I stay for Valentina.

“I do not know where your brother is.”

“Bullshit. You’re nothing but a fucking liar.”

She appears taken aback that I’ve spoken to her this way. I brace for her wrath, but what I get has me wondering if I’m fucking dreaming.

She steps forward and begins rubbing over the front of my jeans.

I slap her hand away, disgusted and horrified. “What the fuck are you doing?”

But she’s not deterred and grips my cock.

“Seeing as you finally found your balls—”

“Knock it off.”

This seductress shit won’t fly with me because she can try every trick in the book, but I would rather cut off my dick than succumb to her ways.

“We all have wants in this world that need to be fulfilled. You fulfill mine. I fulfill yours.”

She just confirmed what I always knew to be true. She knows where Lewis is, and it seems the only way to make her talk is to fuck her.

What a predicament I find myself in.

I stand feet above her, but her small stature doesn’t fool me like it would most. I’ve seen this woman take down men three times her size. But I now see her greatest weapon is the air of seduction she carries to make men grovel on their knees.

So I decide to do the complete opposite.

The way her nipples press against the thin material of her nightgown and the throbbing at the side of her throat are all dead giveaways that she’s affected by me, which I plan on exploiting for my own gain—something she taught me.

I stop fighting and allow her to rub over my cock, wanting her to see that she can go to town all she wants, but I’m going to be softer than Justin Bieber.

“Sorry, sweetheart, you’re just not doing it for me.”

She appears genuinely upset as I assume no man has ever said such a thing to her. But no man has ever despised her more than me.

But this is something I can use because sex is power, which is what she just tried to prove. She just didn’t think it would backfire. But it’s worked in my favor because she taught me that every predator disguises himself to lure in his prey.

She really shouldn’t have underestimated me.

She opens her mouth, but I spin her around, trapping her against the counter as I press my chest into her back. She smells like flowers. I want to puke from the sickly sweet scent.

“I know what you’re doing,” I say into her ear.

She tries to buck me off, but we both know if she wanted to get free, she could.

She likes this.

“And I’m surprised. Is this why you adopted me?” I don’t hold back on the sarcasm because never once have we been one big happy family.

I have never seen her as a mother figure.

Nor have I seen Valentina as my sister.

We are not a family in that sense.

Which is why I have no qualms lifting the hem of Gianna’s nightgown and exposing her bare ass. It’s a great ass; too bad it belongs to the she-devil in heels.

I smack her ass—hard. So hard that she propels up the counter from the force.

She splays her hands on the marble, but it’s no use when I smack her again.

“Is this what you want? Actually, you know, don’t answer that because I don’t give a fuck what you want.”

I smack her ass one last time before spinning her back around. Her eyes are wide. Lips parted. Her breaths fast.

I look at her with nothing but loathing.

She awaits further command, which, again, surprises me. She exerts nothing but control, but in the bedroom, is she a sub?

I guess there’s only one way I’ll ever know.

I don’t ask.

I take.

Yanking up her nightgown, I let it be known that I’ll do with her as I please as I order, “Get yourself off because I sure as fuck am not going to.”

When she hesitates, I spit on her pussy. “That’s the only help you’ll be getting from me.”

A low moan escapes her, and she does as I say and begins fingering herself. Our eyes are locked the entire time. She bites her lip and spreads her legs wider.

I would be lying if I didn’t admit this turned me on a little. But not in the traditional sense. The power I have over her is what’s getting me off.

Perhaps I’ve found something I can control her with. I will never fuck her. But fuck with her?

Hell to the fuck yes.

She sinks two fingers into her pussy, pleasuring herself leisurely. Her pussy is like a Venus flytrap—trapping her unsuspecting prey to fulfill her carnivorous needs.

I laugh at the analogy, which enrages her.

“Should we call Valentina down here to watch? Perhaps she could learn a thing or two.”

The moment she says her name, I launch forward and grab her by the throat, squeezing hard.

A winded laugh escapes her.

“Do not speak her name.”

“Have I not taught you nothing? You continue to lead with your emotions. And that girl, she’ll be the death of you…in every single way.”

“What do you know of emotions, you heartless bitch?”

I tighten my grip and arch her neck backward, seething inches from her face.

The violence turns her on. I can hear by her breathless whimpers as well as how wet she is.

“I would rather lead with something other than greed because your empire won’t stand forever. It will crumble before your eyes. I’ll make sure of it.”

This isn’t helping me in any way, but I am done. She’ll never tell me where Lewis is. I’ve given up on that notion. But I can’t abandon Valentina.

“And that is why I have made mine yours, you silly, silly boy. Would you really destroy your own legacy? Would you destroy hers ?” She gasps before climaxing with a sated moan as she reads the horror on my face.

I stand speechless because fuck me, I thought I was playing her, but…she fucking played me.

She smears her arousal across my lips with a victorious grin.

I wipe it away with disgust.

“One hundred and eleven Broadway Avenue…that’s where you’ll find the answers you seek.”

She pushes past me, freshly fucked.

While me…I’m just fucked.