Chapter 7
Hell was my current living status. Daiki was on my ass for missing the little meeting he had planned with the Russians, and Benito wasn't making shit easy. Blake walking out on me wasn't my fault and had everything to do with the idiot scaling walls and running to the brothel. People talked, and the moment he shouted his name, the city was whispering about another Vitale brother appearing. He practically drew a target on his back. Blake wasn't established like the others. Every single one of his brothers had a reputation; he was an unknown which made him a target.
The one person he should have been weary of, he hopped right in the car with. A part of me couldn't blame him. I was a stranger, but Cesare was his sperm donor. I might have known mine, but the need for a familia ran deeply through every single human being. Just thinking about family brought the thought of my mother, and I groaned. I hadn't visited in a while.
How long has it been? Weeks? Months? I couldn't recall the last time I made the trip to visit my mom. I tried to stay clear of that place, memories that had no purpose in my life tended to claw back up and sink into me. Thinking about going to see her filled me with dread as bile burned the back of my throat.
"I'll go tomorrow." I needed at least a day to get ready.
My phone vibrated next to me on the bed, and I grabbed it, prepared for something stupid from Daiki. I still wasn't on the payroll, and I imagined it would stay that way until I proved myself to him. It was bullshit, but that’s the way the world worked. Darcy's name came up instead. One of the workers at Silver Dreams.
Darcy: Grand Myah said you're always welcome back.
Of course I was, but I'd given up that life when I was a teen, and I had no plans to go back. However, life tended to slap me with reality constantly. I refused to burn any bridges.
Quincy: I'm busy right now but tell her thanks.
Darcy: You were popular.
The money I’d made back then was good, but the mental fatigue it took on me wasn't worth it. I left her on read knowing damn well I'd do everything in my power not to end up like that again. I wasn't knocking what they did. Shit, I used Silver Dreams’ services plenty of times and would more then likely again in the future. I just wasn't personally cut out to work there.
The things I had to do to survive back then weren't human. Not even an animal would be subject to the shit I'd gone through. I had the cuts and scars to remind me every single day of what I vowed never to go back to. My stomach turned, and I was up and out of the bed in seconds. My hand slammed against the bathroom door. The room twisted and turned as I bent over the toilet, my back arching and bile burning its way up my throat and over my tongue. Acid sizzled every taste bud, making it so much worse.
I stayed bent over, hacking until all that was left was spit. I wiped my lips with the back of my hand before flushing the evidence of my broken psyche down the toilet. I cleaned up, rinsing and brushing my teeth, making sure to get the taste out before I ended up on the floor, curling around the toilet. The air felt stale in the room.
"Fuck." I could barely take in a breath. My fist slammed into the mirror, shattering upon impact. The pain was dull, not fully registering even when blood dripped down into the sink. Still, I pulled my fist back and punched it one more time for good measure. The entire thing fell down and crashed to the linoleum floor, making a mess.
My phone vibrated and rang on the bed, and for a brief second, I thought about leaving it. If I wasn't in the predicament I was in, I would have. I grabbed it up without looking at the screen. I had no room to ignore an opportunity to make money.
"Yeah?"
"Quincy? What's wrong?" Harlow asked.
Fuck. "Nothing. Just woke up from a good ass nap." I yawned for good measure. "What's up?"
"Cesare being back in town has Benito on edge."
I nodded as if I understood, but my world didn't revolve around the Vitales, regardless of what they thought. I had shit to do, and if Harlow was calling only to bitch about his family life, I was going to need to cut this shit short.
"Yeah, I can see why. But, Har, I have to?—"
"What's weird is how close he's keeping Blake. Something in my gut says this is a bad idea."
I could hear the worry in my best friend's voice. "I told him to watch his back."
"Blake needs to do more than that. Cesare is like Denji; if they can use someone, they will."
Yeah, I knew exactly what Harlow’s father was like. A manipulator. I’d seen it myself. Still, this didn’t involve me.
"Or maybe he turned over a new leaf and wants to do right by his son."
There was silence between us before I gave in and laughed.
"All right, so that's not the case with men like them, but still, it's probably what Blake is hoping for."
Harlow groaned. "I know, and normally, I wouldn't give a fuck. Everyone has to deal with their own daddy issues."
"Oh, like you've dealt with yours?" I went into my bathroom and instantly, irritation crawled up my flesh. The mess was all wrong and out of place. I grabbed the broom and dustpan holding the phone up between my shoulder and ear.
"You've got jokes today."
"You've been calling me a lot more lately."
"I call," Harlow argued.
Yeah, when he was watching Paolo and York's girls or when there was something that needed to be done. But even then, he depended more on his new family. I couldn't be upset with Harlow for it either. I knew having a family that was actually there and gave a damn about him was new. He was settling into the Vitale world fully, and I was happy for him. Sometimes it just felt like I was the afterthought.
"Mm-hmm, so what's wrong this time?"
"He calls Benito at all hours of the night. Like he's some lap dog."
"I know it's not Benito's lover because we'd be having a different conversation. So who are we referring to here?"
"Fucking Cesare, who else? I wish Benito would try and have something on the side. I'd kill them both." Harlow went off on a tangent, swearing in Japanese, switching between both languages. It even sounded like he dropped a few Italian swear words. The pronunciation was shit.
I let him have his moment while I finished cleaning up the shattered mirror. I caught sight of my reflection in one of the broken pieces and groaned at the blond on top of my head. It had been a few weeks of blond; I was ready for a color. I opened the cabinet over the toilet and shook each dye bottle until I found one that was at least half full.
Pink.
"What are you going to do about it?" I bagged up the broken pieces of glass, and dropped the bag somewhere in the living room without a care. I headed back to my room with a plan. I hit the speaker before putting the phone down and getting ready to dye my hair. One look at my hands and I sighed. I quickly took care of my bloody knuckles.
"I don't know. Every time I bring it up to Benito, we end up fighting."
"Let me guess, you stab him, you have sex, and then he leaves?" The silence from Harlow's end made me laugh. "Okay, what's the backup plan to get rid of Cesare?"
"I wish it was that easy; slip into his hotel room and slit his fucking throat. I'd pay to watch that man die."
I shook my head as I slathered the pink dye on without any plan. I made sure every inch of my hair was saturated. The strands were slightly curled at the edges now that it was growing out some from the buzz cut.
"And what's stopping you?"
"My husband and his batshit insane brothers. As much as they dislike their father, every single one of them respects him. Or fears him. Pick one." Harlow grunted. "Each of them has outgrown him and they still seek his approval in some fucked up way."
I laughed. "Thank fuck my old man died before I was born. Couldn't imagine the daddy issues on top of mommy ones." I grabbed a joint and lit up, probably needing something a bit stronger than weed on deck.
Harlow joined in the laughter before switching topics to his sister. She'd come around a few times. Of course, still wasn’t ready to be a mother, not that she was going to take Emica away from her loving home. It showed a whole lot of growth for her. I remembered a time when she'd cry to follow Harlow and me around when we lived in that shitty apartment building. She'd cause more trouble for us to deal with then if we would have just left her at home. Those memories were welcomed, the times when I'd had someone to lean on, and home hadn't felt so draining.
"Benito's back," Harlow said.
I rinsed the pink dye out of my hair, pissed I couldn't check it out in the mirror. I'd have to find a replacement soon. "You getting off?"
"Quincy," Harlow said, ignoring me in favor of his husband.
There was a muffled sound over the line before Benito's voice filled my bathroom. "What are you doing tonight?"
Trying my damndest not to let the past sneak up on me and tear me limb from limb. Not to mention balancing this shit hand life has dealt me. Oh, and wondering how I’m going to pay my rent, let’s not forget that existential dread.
"Same old shit, nothing too important. Why?"
"I need you to check up on Blake."
I was shaking my head before Benito could even get his name fully out. "He went with your father."
"And he wants away from him."
Remembering the way Blake's face had gone ashen when faced with meeting his father twisted my stomach. I wasn't a softy by any means, but for some reason, the bastard had gotten under my skin in the little time we had together.
"Fine. Just checking on him, nothing more, right?"
Benito was silent but inevitably sighed. "Yes, Cesare made it clear that Blake is to be returned to the hotel."
I wanted to question why but I also knew it wasn't my place.
"If he sees us hanging around Blake, he might think something’s up," Benito said.
Was there something up? "Okay, and I'm fair game not belonging to the Vitales and all."
"Precisely, but not only that. Blake made up some shit that you two were friends."
Friends? The short fuck couldn't stand me.
"All right."
We hung up, and now with my night plans in order, I got dressed.
"Hey, baby girl, I'm ready to order," I called out.
Blake twisted on his heels and glared at me. His hair was gelled back and the suit he sported didn't fit him at all. Sure, it looked tailored, and expensive, but it seemed out of place on him.
I whistled. "Damn, you clean up like shit, peaches. What happened to you?"
For a split second, Blake sported a smile instead of the overwhelmed deer in headlights look he had on since I walked into Red Dawn.
"Fuck you, Quincy."
"That's a privilege only given to a few." I winked at him. "I want a mojito."
"A what?" Blake looked around at the bar and grabbed a random glass. He poured me a beer on tap. "There."
"This isn’t what I ordered." I could hardly contain my smile. The fuck was he doing behind a bar?
"Drink it," he hissed.
I took the offered drink. It was more froth than beer, but I wasn't going to point that out. It was easy to tell the other patrons were avoiding the shit out of him.
"First day suck?" I shouted as the music picked up.
Blake leaned over the bar and glared at me. "What do you care?"
"I don't." I drank more of the beer until it was empty. "Another."
Blake took the glass, filling it up a bit better than the first time. I took it and raised the glass at him before leaving the bar and finding an empty table. It was in the far back corner where I had a good view of Blake and the door at the same time. I peeped the few men scattered about that kept watching him. They had to be Cesare’s men.
Blake, none the wiser, stood behind the bar, moving around. His hands opened and closed next to him as if he wasn't sure what to do with them. His gaze bounced around the room as if he was looking for something to do. Blake was out of his element here. The other bartenders were fluid and good at what they did. He was clumsy. The one thing he was great at was flirting. There were a few customers who fell prey to his pretty face and silk wrapped words but when he handed the wrong drink over it went downhill fast.
It was entertainment at its finest. I sipped on the beer, keeping eyes on Blake the entire time. Two men stepped in front of me, blocking my view. It wasn't hard to know what they were there for.
"What can I do for you two?" I asked sweetly. See, I could be the nicest person around when I wanted to be.
"Mr. Vitale doesn't appreciate you being here."
I finished off my beer. "That's strange, last I checked, we all had a good relationship."
The one on the left with a broken nose huffed out a laugh. "You're a nobody. Suggest you pack your shit up and get out of here."
Nobody? How many times had I heard that? Too many to count. "I'm a paying customer."
"Those two shitty beers are on the house so why don't you split," the other man said. His Italian accent was thicker than the other one's.
"Fuck, really?" I stood up with a smile plastered on my face. "Then I have to have another if it's free drinks."
The one with the thick accent stepped in front of me, blocking my way to the bar. We were the same height, our eyes level as he glared at me. He really was going to make this difficult.
"Move," I said.
"è un idiota. Cesare lo vuole fuori di qui," the one in front of me said.
"Non ha detto che non possiamo ucciderlo."
The one in front of me shook his head. "No, ordini del capo. Non facciamo nulla che attiri gli sguardi."
Neither of them knew I spoke Italian. Apparently this “nothing” wasn't even worth looking into. That was going to be their mistake.
"Move." The one with a broken nose shoved me forward.
I kept my mouth shut, listening to them as they communicated in Italian. Instead of leading me to the front exit, we headed toward the back doors.
"Non c'è da preoccuparsi se ci occupiamo di lui sul retro."
The moment the cold New York air hit me, I dropped down, pulled out a knife and slammed it down into one of the guy’s foot. He let out a shout while I twisted around, slipping my fingers into the brass knuckles. It was like putting on a glove; it fit perfectly. I swung before either of them knew what was happening.
"Voi due non potreste uccidermi nemmeno se fossi legato e strafatto di acido. Questo niente vi mostrerà come si fa."
Their eyes widened at my Italian.
A blow came from both sides. I took the one from the back, grunting as I used some of the blows momentum to take down the big fuck in front of me. He tripped back, his foot still sporting my blade in it. He crashed down and I rolled with him, ramming my knee up and knocking the wind out of him. His face went red as he gasped for air. I snatched the knife out of his flesh, having to use more strength than I'd like. I slammed my brass knuckles into his face, giving him the same broken nose as his friend. Hot sprays of blood hit my cheek.
The other one wasn't going to be left out; he tackled me, dragging a grunt out of my lips. I jerked my elbow back connecting with his throat. He gagged and coughed as he fell to the side, clutching at his neck. I rearranged his face, drawing my fist back again and again. Even as the blood soaked into my sleeves, I kept punching him. His lip was split, a few teeth missing and his nose broken beyond repair. If anything, it was an improvement.
I wiped blood off my cheek and turned to see Blake standing there.
"What the fuck?"
"Did you know you were being watched the whole time in there?” I glanced over at the door and then back at Blake. “You still are."
"What?" Blake looked to the bodies on the ground and then at me. "What?"
I walked toward him. Every step I took forward, he took back until his back crashed into the wall. I dropped my arms over his head and crowded into his space. Even the cologne that covered him was off, nothing like the mango shampoo that he wore from my bathroom.
"Three days with daddy dearest didn't teach you to always pay attention to the eyes on you?"
Blake's blue eyes moved chaotically around before settling on my hair. "It's pink."
"Yeah, you finally noticed. It looks good on me, doesn't it, baby girl?"
He rolled his eyes. "You look crazier." He reached up, and I stopped his hand from touching me.
"You don't want blood on you. Your pops might think you like playing with corpses."
"They're dead?" His face drained of all color.
"No. I'd love to end them, but unfortunately, I don't have the backing to do so. I slip up and I get fed to the wolves." I grabbed his chin, forcing him to look away from the idiots on the ground. "They're just lacking a little blood, nothing they couldn't spare."
Panic was written all over Blake's face. A part of me felt like he needed it, to see the real world he was so casually walking into. This wasn't shit. A fight and a little bloodshed was the lighter side of things. Wait until he had to hold a man's life in his hands.
I slapped his cheeks, and still no reaction. Blake's breathing was erratic and he was slipping down the wall.
"Fuck. Hey, Blake." I snapped my fingers in his face, waiting for any kind of reaction. There was a far-off, distant look in his blue eyes that I’d seen too many times.
Pain snapped a lot of people out of shock, but with Blake, it wasn't even registering. I pulled him up and smashed our mouths together. I slipped my tongue between his parted lips and coaxed his out. I flicked the ball in the middle of his tongue a few times playing with the piercing until I got a reaction. Blake's tongue twisted with mine and what was a one sided kiss quickly turned into a full-blown make out. He tasted good, but what blew my mind was the way he deepened the kiss further. Electricity danced over my lips and went straight to my cock as Blake sucked on my tongue and drew me in closer. My mind melted as I forgot why I kissed him, and pressed against Blake, opening up for more.
My mind was foggy as I tilted my head slightly to the right. Blake’s groan was muffled against my lips as he kissed me harder. My hips moved on their own as I ground my cock against his body. I bent my knees slightly, lining our clothed cocks together. One movement, and I had Blake biting my tongue and moving with me.
It’s getting out of hand.
My lungs burned as I ignored my body's need for oxygen, and instead filled it with Blake. As bad as Vitales were, they were also temptation. I broke the kiss before it got to the point I stripped the little man and fucked the life out of him.
Damn, he was a good kisser. I could easily dive back in if I wasn't slapped with who he was.
"Better?"
"Huh?" Blake blinked a few times at me, his face flushed and his lips slightly swollen from the kiss. He shouldn't look so damn cute.
"At least you can use words again." I fixed my clothes and took a few steps back. "Better get out of here before I'm found."
"Wait."
"You want to go with me, peaches?"
He flipped me off. "I can't stand you."
"But?"
There was a sound at the back door alerting both of us that time was up.
"Shit, I don't know. I’m suffocating in that hotel room. And you're the only bastard I know. Kind of."
I smiled. "Beg me."
"Fuck you! I’m not begging for shit. I don't need you."
"Then go back in there and smile like the good little boy you are. You’re daddy’s boy, right?” I teased. “I’m sure the five star hotel and constantly being watched is fun for you.”
Blake visibly stiffened. Time was ticking and he needed to make up his mind. Pride was a monster most men couldn’t overcome. Blake, on the other hand, swallowed his humble pie and fixed me with a sweet look that spoke of all types of dangers."I'll be able to get my own place soon… So, can I stay with you, please?"
"What's the magic word?"
"Fuck, Quincy, come?—"
"Ding ding! Wow, you're the first to get it right." I grabbed his wrist and ran toward the street. We kept moving. I knew the city like the back of my hand. I had to. We turned and dodged into a coffee shop and made our way through their kitchen. We were spat out closer to Central Park, where it would be ten times easier to hide out for a bit.
Blake was right on my heels like he was used to running. He bent over the moment we came to a stop, glancing over his shoulder a few times. His pocket rang and he flinched the moment the sound penetrated the air.
He hadn't had that before. I could only assume Cesare had given it to him.
"Go ahead."
"And say what?"
"That you want to hang out with a friend tonight."
"I'm grown, I don't have to report back to him."
I lifted a single brow. If he thought that, he was stupider than I imagined. "Before you answer, why did he have you at the bar?"
Blake hesitated, staring at me for a long while as if he wasn't sure he could trust me. I waited him out. I wasn't going to tell him to trust me, not when I wasn’t certain I could trust him yet. I still had no idea why he was in New York, and why he decided to appear now. And what he wanted from the Vitales.
"It was just a job."
"No, nothing is just a job, and if you think that, you're a moron."
"Fuck you and Benito. I'm not stupid."
"Then think. What the hell did he tell you to do?"
Blake shrugged. "Listen and report back to him. That was it."
I nodded. "He's trying to see if you can be useful to him. Well, did you hear anything?"
Blake opened his mouth before clamping it shut.
"Keep it to yourself, I don't care, but make sure that man thinks you're useful," I warned.
"Why?"
"Because a liability only ends up one way." I pointed at his ringing pocket. "Your life's on the line."
"He wouldn't kill me," Blake said, but he didn't sound too sure.
I said nothing. He knew that was bullshit, and if he didn't he was going to find out. He better wise up fast on the world he had entered into. And he needed to do it quickly before he ended up dead.
"How do I convince him to let me leave? I tried the first time but?—"
"Give him something. What does he want that you have?"
Blake shrugged. “I don’t have anything.”
"Then ask Benito for help."
"No, I don't need that either. I just have to lay low for a bit, that's all."
Blake was a mess. I knew I shouldn’t even attempt to help him. If anything, I needed to either get him back to his dad or pass him over to Benito before wiping my hands clean of the situation. I could tell the whole thing was going to get chaotic.
I pulled out a joint. "All right, tonight we smoke this. And tomorrow you handle your shit."
Blake looked at me and then the joint in my hand. "How do I deal?"
"Good question. No fucking clue; that's why I'm getting high. You, on the other hand, are going to have to face your family."
"Fuck it, pass it over." Blake held his hand open. "I'm not dealing with shit right now."
I couldn't tell him if that was stupid or wise. Either way, I passed the joint over. Fuck it. Even I didn’t want to deal with my shit tonight.