Trash Daddy

21. Lux

I’m back on my bullshit before five o’clock rolls around. Standing in the doorway of my bedroom, I take in Carmella, lounging in my bed. “Who wants to go to a party?” I point at myself. “This guy.”

When I flop on my bed, Carmella bounces. While being a little standoffish since our earlier conversation, she has still taken over my room, binge-watched TV, and eaten hot chips while I was putting together the futon and getting caught up with the men outside. The sides of her mouth are covered in flakey red flavoring, as well with the tips of her fingers. My bed is covered in crumbs. She’s definitely sleeping on that side. She doesn’t respond, eyes glued to the TV.

“And who wants to be my hot date?” I ask. Pointing at her, I answer my question. “You do, of course.”

Sliding my hand up her jean-clad thigh, I squeeze. She doesn’t acknowledge me. A few more inches up and my hand is between her legs. I pinch her pussy lips through the material. A rolled bag of chips slaps into my face. “Ow,” I mutter into the aluminum bag as it crinkles against my lips.

Carmella pulls the bag back and shoots me a look. “Oh, please. I think you’ll live.”

Leaning down, I kiss her forearm. “You want to come with me, right?” Don’t make me go alone. Nuzzling my head into her side boob, I turn my face and nip at her bicep. Traveling up to her neck, I shower down little kisses on her skin. She giggles and tries to stay focused on the TV, but her arms break out in adorable little goose bumps.

Sliding up to sit beside her, I snag the remote and shut it off. “Come with me to the party. Pretty please.” I lift her spicy-flavored fingers and suck one into my mouth. Carmella flushes crimson.

“Shouldn’t we stay in, you know, in case of the SUV?” She gives me big, dramatic eyes.

I shake my phone in front of her. “Cameras and men, baby, it’s no big thing.” Then, I pull open the drawer, showing her the Glock. “I’ll be carrying. Plus, we both need a shower and you need a new dress to be my date to the club.”

Carmella may think this party is optional, but it’s not. I’ve been avoiding Sasha for too long and he’s noticing. While he may not be my biggest fan and things are a little stained right now, if I don’t show up for his birthday, he’ll be offended and pissed.

I crawl over her to check my hair and mustache in the mirror.

Carmella sighs, flopping back on the bed. “Luke, I can’t go. Warrants, cops, no identification. Any of this ringing any bells?”

“Carmella. Wigs, fake ID, and a dimly lit nightclub run by a trusted friend of mine. Do you honestly want to stay in this store twenty-four seven, living in fear?”

Hesitation washes over her face.

“Come on, be my date, caramel drop,” I say. I give her a little, playful pout before dropping an award-winning smile on her.

She laughs, shaking her head. “A wig?”

Oh, she is going to love this. Opening up a drawer full of sex toys, I pull out a slick black wig with red highlights. Holding it up for her, I give it a little spin so she can see the bangs.

She narrows her eyes, bites her bottom lip, and considers. I’m struck by how cute she looks like that. Like she is going to scam the entire world. My little, slutty blonde siren sent straight to me from the sea.

Setting down the bag of chips, she grins up at me, a conspiratorial look on her face. “Okay, did you say fake ID?”

Carmella’s heels click on the sidewalk as we approach the slick black building with shiny onyx-colored windows, the name LUX scribbled across the reflective glass in gold lettering, making it pop.

“I’m still in shock over how easy it was to get this.” Carmella admires her new driver’s license. Her face lights up. “Can I drive with this?”

I drop a bemused sideways glance at her as we walk across the parking lot. “One, it was not easy to get that. I had to convince a close friend you weren’t a cop, and now I owe him a favor. Two, no, you can’t drive with that. I mean, technically, nothing is stopping you from driving in general. Licensed or not. But it does limit you to only committing one crime at a time.”

I scan the parking lot, looking for the navy SUV. Keeping my hand on my girl’s lower back, I guide us toward the front doors. Carmella’s brow pulls down as she stares at me, hustling to keep up with the pace I’m setting. “Is that like an official law? Why would they even have that?”

I scan the line out front. No way in hell I’m waiting in that. The crush of people is ridiculous as they all crowd around a single entranceway. “What? No. Listen, what I’m saying is, if you are going to drive with a fake driver’s license, then you wouldn’t be able to skip wearing your seatbelt, drink a beer, smuggle money, have a felon in your car, or even get road head. Only one crime at a time. Ok, I’m going to give the bouncers our names. Take my hand.”

The frown lines are so deep on her concerned face, I pause for a minute. “Luke, the things you say sometimes. Those ideas seem… not good.”

I shrug. “Ah well, I suppose you don’t have to commit any crimes. Wait, do you even know how to drive?” Her red flush matches the highlights in the wig as she shrugs. Coming to a dead stop, I’m smacked in the face with the truth. Carmella has never had a driver’s license. I should’ve known.

“What the fuck, caramel drop? Unbelievable. Give me that.”

Snatching her wrist, I pluck the license from her fingers and drag her along into the crowd. I tell the bouncers our names and they wave us through after checking our IDs. The neon fluorescent hand stamps flare to life as we step inside the foyer of LUX. Shiny black marble tile hugs the floor and muted cool blue lights skirt the edges of the ceiling and floors.

“Can I have it back now? I want to put it in my new clutch.” She holds a sparkly silver sequined bag that reminds me of a disco ball and isn’t at all Carmella’s normal casual attire. “Isn’t it so shiny? I love it.”

A smile tugs at my lips. This little shit thinks I’m not on to her. I wrap an arm around her, chuckling at her excitement. “Caramel drop, how do you get a driver’s license?”

She glances up at me, skepticism on her face. “You take a driver’s test… duh.”

Tucking her into my body, I pull us off to the side so we can chat. “And what do you have to know in order to pass your driver’s test, to get your driver’s license?”

Her eyes narrow. “How… to drive.”

“Mmm hmmm, you said you lost your license. That’s very different from I never had one in the fucking first place because I didn’t learn how to drive, right? You remember that bullshit the night you crawled through the window?”

She grunts unhappily. “So what, I never learned to drive? What’s the big deal?”

“The big deal is, you say you are twenty-one. You say age isn’t a factor in your legal issues, but now finding out you never got a driver’s license, its making me fucking nervous.” I grit my teeth. Thankfully, the age of consent in Florida is sixteen. Even so, Jesus fuck. She doesn’t look sixteen. My stomach clenches.

Her mouth twists like she sucked on something sour. Carmella sighs, insecurity flickering across her face. “I never got a driver’s license because my aunt wouldn’t let me and no one would teach me. I’ll be nineteen in October,” she sighs.

Eighteen. Old enough. Sorrow worms it was through me, but not for myself. It’s not fair for her to have lived such a short, shitty life and then end up with a money-laundering boyfriend that’s old enough to be her dad. I squash the emotion. She crawled through my window. We share the same pains. Same background. She’s mine.

I stare down the dark hallway into LUX. Sasha will have a fit about her being underage. He likes his fronts to move smoothly. Underage drinking is a hiccup. “One crime at a time” rings in my head. “If anyone asks, you’re twenty-one, okay?”

“Well, duh,” she snaps.

I shake my head and slip the ID back into her hands. Carmella beams at me. I grab her and guide up deeper into the club.

“Galaxy” by Hensonn spills in the air as we step out onto the main floor of LUX. The space reflects its namesake and is a luxurious take on a nightclub. A customer won’t find any cheap, plastic cups or beer bottles here. Everything from the floor to the ceiling is top of the line or very close. Blue neon lights up black-and-white marble, casting the bar and surrounding dance floor in a cool tone.

Heads turn our way and some of the faces I recognize. Jimmy waves over to me and I tip my head in return. Several of Sasha’s men stop short to shake my hand, forcing Carmella closer to me as we draw a crowd.

“Well, looky at this shit. Haven’t seen you in fuck ever, brother,” Jimmy croons, leaning in and giving me a half hug. We thump on the back. “You ready to fuck this shit up? We got a hell of a party lined up for Sasha. Who”s this?” He leers at Carmella.

“This is Carmella, and she’s with me,” I clarify, giving Jimmy a look that clearly says, Try it and I’ll kill you.

Jimmy has the decency to shrug. I can’t blame him exactly, as we’ve shared women before. I shake a couple more hands, exchanging a quick laugh and a little good-natured shit talking before I notice the look Carmella is giving me. Her brows are knitted tightly as she glances around the gathered crowd, all focused on us and then up at me.

A crackle goes through the air and the music fades as the DJ Denver’s voice booms, “Hey, party people, my man Lucas Reeves is in the house! Let me hit you all with one of his favorites.” He spins a few more rhythms before settling on one of my most requested: “Joe Doe” by Adam Jensen.

I flush and look over at Denver, who waves from the DJ booth. I acknowledge him with a head toss and point my finger at him, letting a tight smile slip across my face and into my eyes. Thanks for the unwelcome fucking announcement, Denver. Now everyone knows I’m here.

My gaze falls on a confused Carmella. “I come here often,” I say, shrugging.

In the middle of the dance floor, a marble fountain sits raised with glowing blue arches of water. We skirt around it and make our way to the steps of the VIP section where Sasha’s party is.

A bouncer with bulging muscles and a LUX logo plastered over his too tight tee shirt steps down to take our names. He unhooks the red rope and nods us through. Bringing Carmella’s hand to my lips, I watch her step up and catch the attention of several men in the roped off area.

It’s the dress. I knew it the moment she tried it on that it had to be hers. Blood-red and clinging to all the right places, the dress claims false modesty with full sleeves and a high neckline. But then it promises filthy things as the entire back is cut away, barely covering the top of her ass. The keyhole in front shows much of her full tits, and a peekaboo diamond shape showing her abdomen and belly button beckons attention. It’s a short thing that ends just below her crotch. To be honest, it’s less a dress and more of a skintight collection of holes. And matches the red-and-black wig I talked her into wearing.

Dan waves at us from the back of the VIP section. A mixed group of men and women sit on the three-long, black, minimal-looking couches nestled around a white table. I stumble when I see Starla and several of her friends sitting with Sasha. A bubble of nerves for Carmella worms its way inside my gut. Nothing like your new girl meeting the prostitute you used to fuck. I scratch my head and sigh. Wrapping my hand around Carmella”s waist, I make a mental vow to keep her close.

“Fuck, you really are letting anyone in here now, aren’t you, Sasha?” Dan complains as we get close enough to the table to hear him. He eyes me with a sarcastic smirk.

“Ahh yes, but look what the piece of shit brought with him. That one is new.” Sasha raises his glass and points at Carmella. His Russian accent is thick on his tongue. He’s been drinking. Aleksi stands behind him, the forever watchful guard dog.

Dan and Sasha share a chuckle together at my expense.

“Please, the fact that I am here is the only thing making this birthday party an event worth coming to. Sasha isn’t good-looking enough, and you certainly aren’t funny enough, Dan,” I snap back.

That gets me a round of laughter as Dan rises to greet me with a hug. Sasha steps around the table and slings his arm over me. “You didn’t tell me you were bringing a friend. I wouldn’t have told Starla to come,” he whispers in my ear. His mood is such a contrast from our earlier interaction; it gives me a bit of whiplash. He must be several cups into his celebration.

I glance over at Carmella, who is busy giving a polite smile, but I notice the tension around her eyes. Might as well get this over with. He’s going to find out sooner rather than later. “Sasha, let me introduce you to Carmella.” She turns to look at us as the proper introductions start. Anxiety spikes in my chest as Sasha kisses her hand. If Carmella only knew the company she was keeping tonight, she would tuck tail and run. Sasha flirts with her for a minute, causing her to laugh and give him a gorgeous smile. She wouldn’t be smiling so much if she knew the man holding her hand currently is the leader of this branch of Russian mob and how many people the fucker has killed.

“She’s pretty,” Daniel says next to me.

I glance over at my friend. His slicked back hair and tight suit always make me wonder if he’s trying to imitate Patrick Bateman. I eye the gray, small cylinder in his hands as he unconsciously shakes it. The contents rattle softly under the thump of the base. Daniel likes to collect the teeth of the people who have ended up on his shitlist. So, maybe he could give Bateman a run for his money. “She may need some legal help later,” I whisper to him. Interest sparks in his eyes as he sips his whiskey.

Sasha laughs at something my girl says, and I realize he looks good tonight. His long blond hair is loose and perfectly framed around his face. His silk, blue button-down shirt matches his eyes. Brown trim slacks encase his legs, and he looks almost normal except for the heavily inked forearms and neck that show. Carmella smiles at him again, and I’ve had just about enough of that.

“Sasha, don’t be a fucking heathen. Let Carmella meet Daniel,” I snap.

When Sasha turns, I’m shocked by the look he gives me. Etched into his face is the anger I didn’t expect until later. The glare disappears into a smile as he steps aside so Daniel can greet her.

Sasha eyes Carmella once more before returning to his seat, shaking his head. Dan swings his arm around Carmella, “Hi, Carmella. I’m Dan. The only decent motherfucker in this place and best friend of your boy toy here.”

I snort. Carmella’s eyebrows attempt to climb into her hairline as she looks at me, then back to him. “Hi, Dan. It’s, um… nice to meet you.”

“No problem, sugar lips. Let’s take a seat,” he chirps back and motions for us to sit on the empty couch.

I try to catch Sasha’s eye, but a bouncer bends down to talk in his ear while he observes his club like a high lord ruling over his kingdom.

“So, what do you do for fun?” Daniel asks Carmella. There is a twinkle in his eyes that makes my fist curl into a ball. I said she might need legal help, not issue a blanket invitation to fuck her. Jeez Dan.

“Hey, Lucas.” Starla’s sour greeting slices through Daniel’s and Carmella’s chatting. Carmella sends me a questioning look, and I shrug away the use of my full name. “You know I prefer Luke now, Starla. By the way, this is my girl, Carmella. Carmella. Starla. Starla works for Sasha as an escort.”

Starla glares at me before turning to Carmella, her smile so saccharine, I’m surprised her teeth don’t rot out. “Actually, I’m a girlfriend experience, something your man should be able to tell you about should you have questions.”

Carmella turns to me. “You really have a payment kink, don’t you? I should have taken you for more money when you asked for pictures.” Daniel makes a choking noise as he inhales his whiskey, and Sasha’s eyebrows vanish into his hairline as he chuckles quietly.

“How much did you get him for?” Sasha inquires.

“I don’t know. It’s probably at a grand now,” she counters.

I grimace. This conversation is not going in the direction I thought it would.

“A grand just for photos?” Sasha says, and she nods. Sasha looks at me. “You got had. Starla is much cheaper.” He gives me a look that says, We will talk about this later.

Carmella gives Starla a vicious grin before turning to me with a look that says, We will talk about this later.

I snatch up a bottle and one of the empty champagne glasses at the table and pour myself a drink. I’m planning on being shit-faced drunk later.

Daniel puts down his drink, and I notice he is still wearing his full suit. “Did you just come from work?” I ask him, desperate for a safe conversation.

Daniel grins. “Yeah, I had to meet a client late. It’s a charity case I’m doing. She needs a divorce from her douchebag husband, and you know me.” His eyes widen and a grin spreads across his face. “I have a tender heart for those recently separated mothers.”

“Tender heart, huh?”

“So very tender,” he agrees.

I catch a look of recognition on Carmella’s face as she looks at Daniel. “You’re the lawyer?”

“Sure am. I do a lot of family law, but some other stuff as well.”

She nods. He smiles down at her. “So, tell us about yourself. What do you do for work? How’d you get stuck with this worthless jackass?”

Carmella hesitates. When she does finally speak, it’s nothing but half-truths. Sneaking through my window at night becomes looking for a job application. Not having a place to live becomes when she broke up with her ex and I came to the rescue, letting her crash with me. I have to admit, Carmella is a skilled liar and paints me in a light I don’t really deserve.

I can tell both Sasha and Daniel know it’s bullshit, but they don’t question the story. If it comforts her to lie to them, I won’t stop her.

“Looks like we’re both fucking where we work,” Starla purrs. Her silver dress is even more illumined in the flash of black lights.

Sasha leans over and says something to her quietly. She sneers at him before waving to her friends to move out of her way. As she stomps from the table, the other ladies drift after her, probably unsure of their place without their dictator.

Sasha opens his arms, palms up, and addresses Carmella. “I apologize. Starla is aggressive. It’s great for business, but she isn’t good with… competition.”

Carmella purses her lips. “I’m not a whore, if that’s your meaning. Luke and I live and work together, as I just explained.” Sasha observes her dress before folding his hands and leaning toward me, his accent thick. “Is that the case, Luke?”

Awkward silence descends, and I accept my fate. Sasha will soon learn that this is the case from the men outside the store. “Carmella is… She and I…” I lick my lips. “Yeah, we’re together. Carmella is my lover.”

“And I’m not a whore,” she prompts me.

“And she isn’t a whore,” I add, holding Sasha’s gaze.

“And we live together, right, Luke?” she asks. I should’ve left her at home or at least given her a list of things to not say. But for the life of me, I didn’t think she was going to gush about our relationship to strangers. She nudges me with her elbow.

“And we live together,” I say, defeated. Not because I don’t want her, but because of the weight of Sasha’s gaze.

I can see Daniel shake his head out of the corner of my eye and take a big gulp of whiskey. Aleksi gives me a look from behind Sasha that speaks volumes. Sasha would have definitely preferred it if she had been a whore. The tension is palpable.

“Hey, you know what? You don’t have a drink. Let’s go get you one.” Daniel extends his hand to Carmella.

She glances at me and as loathe as I am to let her go off with him alone, I nod. “Go on, I want to talk with Sasha. Dan here will chat your ear off if you let him.” I look up at my friend. “Daniel, I’ll kill you if she isn’t having fun.”

Daniel scoffs at me as Carmella takes his hand and gives me an uneasy look. I smile reassuringly at her. I glare at Daniel, who throws his head back and laughs harder, his perfect white teeth gleaming. Anxiety trickles through me as I watch them exit the VIP section. He better not try to fuck her without me.

Lacing my fingers, I turn and face Sasha. He hasn’t moved an inch. I’m pretty certain that whatever buzz he had going on is gone now. “So?”

He flicks two fingers, dismissing Aleksi, and we are left alone. He shakes his head. “It’s no good, brother.”

“What isn’t?”

“Carmella. How old is she?”

“Twenty-one.”

He shakes his head again, his accent rolling in thick. “No. I know this one is not twenty-one. I run a nightclub.”

I twist in my seat, uncomfortable by the sudden direction of this conversation. Defensively, I add, “She’s twenty-one.”

His gaze bores a hole into my head. “You’re lying to me.”

“So, you’re mad because maybe she isn’t old enough to drink alcohol in your club?”

He stands and slides in next to me on the couch, throwing an arm around my shoulders good-naturedly. And I won’t lie, it makes a chill skitter down my back. With his free hand, he makes a gentle and soothing flourish, as if not trying to frighten a flighty animal. “Anger makes you defensive. We will try a different way, yeah? I’ll make you a deal. You leave your kitten here with me. Take Starla and some of her friends. Take a couple bottles, on the house. Go have a party. I’ll clean up the mess when the kitten cries. Tomorrow, you get back to work.”

I pause for a minute. “No offense, Sasha, but fuck you. If I were to leave her with you, in a couple months, I’d find her working with Starla.”

“No.” He shakes his hand, an affronted look on his face. “This one I put behind the scenes. She can bus tables and check in VIPs. In a couple months, she meets a nice boy on the dance floor and they go off together. Not your problem and not my problem anymore.”

I stare at him. “You’re serious right now.”

We make eye contact. “Yes. I see the way you look at her. You’re not right about this one. My friend, we are getting old, and we are not any good to one so young or so sweet. Please tell me she knows nothing about our business.”

I don’t answer.

His hand tightens painfully on my shoulder, his thumb biting into my skin. “Tell me she knows nothing.”

I stare him down, letting the budding rage in my chest show on my face. “She doesn’t know anything important, and the answer is fuck no.”

Sasha sighs as his arm slips away from my back. “Listen to me, when you married Pearl, I said no, it’s a bad idea. But I’m your friend. When you met your Jocelyn, I said no, it’s an even worse idea, but you were so in love, I shut up and said a prayer for her. When you married Tracey, I considered kidnapping you from your own wedding, and then I refused to come. You remember.”

“Yeah, I fucking remember. I also remember you were the one who dared me to get married in Vegas,” I bite out.

His accent comes out rough as he slips back into the speech patterns of a younger Sasha. “When we were younger, it was funny. But this time, I tell you no! Just no! She is too young. She lies. You help her lie. You wanted to punch me for making her laugh. This is not good for you, not good for the money, and you will make it not good for her!”

I grind my teeth and suck in a breath through my nose. “Okay, so I’m getting old. Maybe I want something different.”

Sasha tips his head and the ice in his eyes thaws, revealing the sorrow in his gaze, and finally, I feel like I’m actually talking to the friend I grew up with. He gives me sad eyes. “Maybe you do. Maybe I do too, but you can’t put that on her. I saw the reports. It’s worse every time you check in. You move less and less each time.”

I shoot back what’s left in the champagne glass, but it’s not nearly enough to take the edge off this night. I pour another while Sasha eyes me. I don’t know what he wants me to say. I’ll make it better? I guzzle the second drink as the lines around his mouth tighten and the nerve in his temple pulses. When I look back at him, the anger I expected to find is there. “It’s not good, Lucas.”

“I go by Luke now,” I say.

“You promised me you would get back on track. Tell me you have a plan.”

I shake my head.

The argument we have had about a dozen times is brewing. “Listen, I know you want me back on top. I know you want me to be out there hustling, creating new lines of revenue we can wash the money in. But I can’t do that without capital. I need cash. Or you need to find Tracey and break her arms until she puts the businesses back in my name. I can’t create something out of nothing, Sasha.”

Sasha”s jaw twitches again. With the sobering nature of our conversation, his perfect, clipped English becomes more prevalent. “You did before. You loved the challenge.”

“Yeah, and like you pointed out, we are getting older. I’m tired of rebuilding the wheel. Talk to your higher-ups. See if they will let me scrape some off the top. And if not, then…” I shrug, knowing he won’t like what I have to say, “you have outsourced most of it to other people already. Yeah, they take a larger percentage than I would have, but they’re able to handle the amount you’re receiving, Sasha. You don’t need me. So maybe it’s time I step down entirely.”

Sasha’s hand snakes out and wraps around my neck, squeezing. “This is the mob. You don’t get to just fuck up as massively as you did, then retire because you are too tired to try again.” He scans my face. “How long have you been seeing that girl?”

“And why the fuck does that matter?” I snap.

“Because you’re distracted. She is a distraction. You do this. You meet a new woman and she gets all your attention while you let things slide. I saw the neon in your front window is broken. The Lucus I knew would have had that fixed in one day.”

I flush red hot.

He growls at me. “I am the only reason you are still breathing after your fuckup with Tracey.” Each sentence is punctuated with more pressure on my jugular. “I put my neck out for you. I paid fines for you to the Pakhan. I’m still paying fines for you.” He leans forward into my space. “You should be thanking me. I protect you anytime someone asks the question, ‘Why do we still need Lucus?’ Stop pissing me off, find me some new revenue streams, be my man.” He shakes us as his body leans into mine, his voice low in my ear. “You don’t have any choice. And stop fucking around with this child.”

I’m pissed now. “Did you ever stop to consider I took her in because I am the better option for her? Am I not allowed to offer my companionship to someone while I fucking jump whenever you say jump?” My throat feels tight and raw. My eyes burn.

“You have felt this strongly about every woman you have ever broken. If you are Carmella’s better option, then she is fucked.” He shoves me away from him.

I stand. My knees knock into the table, sending champagne glasses toppling over and smashing onto the floor. The noise draws attention. Sasha rises alongside me, smiling at them. I turn to face him. “Out of long-term friendship and the fact that I don’t want to undermine your authority in front of the other men, I’m not going to punch your pretty face in.” I spit.

He looks at me for a second and shakes his head. “I have other guests to go greet. Please keep yourself from making a scene.” He walks away, motioning to the bouncers, who have approached the VIP section, to leave me alone.

Turning on my heels, I leave to go find Carmella and Daniel. I need to blow off some steam. Fuck Sasha.