Chapter 25
Quincy refused to uncurl from around my body. Every time I tried to move, he clung on more tightly. I tried to wiggle free, my bladder near bursting.
"Why are you so clingy?" I muttered.
He groaned and tried to move even closer. I sighed, giving up as I stared at the ceiling. Slowly, I turned to glance at him. He was fast asleep, a little dribble of drool sliding from the corner of his mouth. For some reason, that didn't make him any less sexy.
I'm starting to think I need serious help.
My phone buzzed on the nightstand. I reached over, snatched it up, and groaned when I saw the name on the screen.
Cesare.
One glance at Quincy, and I knew I had to get out so I could have a little privacy. I slipped my body from beneath his and nearly fell on the floor. Groaning, I got up and quickly exited our bedroom before I stepped out into the hallway.
"So, you got married," Cesare said as soon as I picked up.
"Yeah," I said. I started pacing. "So you heard."
"I hear everything."
There was silence. I didn't know what he wanted from me. Was he irritated? Did he not care? Why did I care if he cared?
"Sorry I didn't call you or anything," I said quickly, trying to dispel the awkward quietness. "It happened so fast. I didn't even know we were doing it until about twenty minutes before it happened."
Cesare grunted. "It's fine. I'm used to my family excluding me from things."
I pulled my phone away from my ear to stare at it. Was I still dreaming? For a moment, it sounded like Cesare Vitale was upset. Did he get upset? Benito insisted the man didn't have feelings, most of my brothers did, but he sounded sad.
"Sorry again," I said when I pressed the phone to my ear once more. "Seriously, it wasn't planned."
"Anyway," Cesare continued as if nothing had happened. "I was calling to see if you'd made your decision."
"My decision?" I asked.
"I told you, you have a future here with me. A way into the family that will not only secure your place, but put you on top. I could use a right-hand man."
My stomach tightened. What he offered was tempting. I had never been in control of anything in my life. Never had excelled at anything either. The temptation of not only being a Vitale, but running the city sent a rush to my head. And then I remembered Benito punching Gin. Or Enzo sitting as closely as possible to Tex when no one was paying attention. Or York and Paolo with their twins that I'd met the other day. As much as it felt good to know that my father had wanted me all along, I couldn't betray my brothers.
"Listen," I said slowly. "I know this is what you want, but is it really? I mean, Benito's already running the family. Why not let him and get to know your family again? Is power really more important than that?"
"Power is everything," Cesare said after a moment. "Nothing else matters. Or lasts."
"That's not true."
He grunted. "You're young. One day you'll grow up and see the truth." He paused. "Quincy, huh? He and your brothers more important than a cushy life?"
Without hesitating, I nodded. "Yeah. As much as I love money, and I have to admit, it would be a relief to never have to struggle again, it wouldn't be the same."
It was worse than that. Honestly, it would feel empty.
"So, you've made up your mind."
"Cesare..."
"It's fine. I have a meeting to get to."
He hung up and I pulled my phone away, staring at it. Was it just me or did he sound a little hurt? Maybe I was reading into it. Benito would tell me I was nuts, that Cesare didn't have an ounce of emotions like normal human beings did, but I wasn't so sure. Yeah, he was an asshole, but there had been a few moments where I'd seen something in him. The possibility of getting to know the man that I had longed for my entire life seemed tentative now.
Had I just destroyed any chance I had of that?
I quickly pushed that thought out of my head. Cesare would have to wait until another day. Right now, I had to take care of something. I dialed Harlow and he picked up after a long stretch of time.
"Youngest Vitale," he said. "What's up?"
"I need your help. Can you drive me somewhere?"
"Where's Quincy?"
"Asleep," I said before I opened the door and peeked into the apartment. He still hadn't come out. “I might have encouraged him to smoke his body weight in weed. And take two edibles. There might have been a cookie involved too.”
"Uh-huh," he said. "And what are you up to that you're whispering right now?"
I groaned. "It's important. Can you just come grab me?"
Harlow sighed. "Fine, but you'll owe me."
"Deal."
Harlow had parked down the street from me. I glanced over my shoulder as I jogged to the car and slid inside. As soon as I locked the door, I looked at him. "Drive."
"Drive where?"
"Just go," I groaned. "If that psycho finds out I'm gone?—"
My phone rang and I didn't even have to look to know who it was. "Hey."
"Don't ‘hey’ me, baby girl. Where the fuck are you?"
"I thought we were taking off and doing whatever we wanted these days," I said.
"You little." He sighed, and I just knew he was trying to keep his cool. It made me smile. "Where are you?"
"I'll be back soon."
"That didn't answer my question."
"Move my morning blowjob to when I get back."
"Blake, I swear to god, if I have to track your ass down..."
"I love you too."
"What?"
I hung up, my heart pounding as I shoved my phone into my pocket after putting it on Do Not Disturb. When he'd said it before, I hadn't been prepared, but the more I thought about it, the more I knew the truth. I really was in love with him. And telling him like this, it just felt better. Easier. If I did it in person first, I might have never gotten the words out.
"You two are toxic as fuck," Harlow said, swirling around a lollipop in his mouth, the candy clicking against his teeth. "Now, seriously. Where to?"
I slowly licked my lips. "Quincy's mom's house."
"Etta Adachi. Why do you want to go there?"
I groaned. "The landlord of the apartment he bought for her has been calling a lot lately. Usually, he takes care of it, but the last few times, I might have picked up the phone. The landlord wants her out. Says she's a mean old nuisance and no one can get any peace."
He snorted. "Yeah, that sounds about right. That woman has never had a kind bone in her body." Harlow shook his head. "She meets one mean asshole and takes it out on Quincy his whole life. It's fucked up."
"Yeah. And I know what she said to him," I muttered, balling my fists up at my sides. "He doesn't need to be around her anymore."
Harlow looked me up and down. "What are you going to do?"
"I don't know yet," I muttered. "But I mean it when I say I'm not going to let her hurt him one more time."
He nodded. "Yeah, it gets pretty bad," he whispered. "I fully support stabbing that old bitch in her wrinkly face."
I stared at him. "That's not what I said!"
Shrugging, he turned a corner. "Hey, I say if we're going to go all out, let's go all out. I fully advocate the bumping off of parents. Especially the shitty ones."
"There's something incredibly wrong with you."
"Oh, I know. Like a lot."
"So, his mom," I asked. "Is she really that bad?"
"Listen, she's sick," Harlow said. "And while I get it, people can't help their illnesses, she doesn't want help. I don't know how many times she's told Quincy that she would throw his ass out in the street if she had to lose even one of her items. It's not just that she's sick, she's cruel. That woman has never cared about him. And she proves it every single day." His hands tightened on the wheel. "No wonder he was in such rough shape."
"I'd noticed," I muttered.
"Yeah. You were the only one that did." He glanced at me out of the corner of his eye. "That's why I didn't yell at you for fucking in my guest room. I'm glad he had someone to look out for him."
My face burned. "I swear you never have to say these things."
He chuckled a little. "Kinda do. The way you blush is hilarious." He sighed. "You know there's nothing between us, right? We're just friends. Always have been and always will be."
I nodded. "Yeah, he told me."
"He did, huh?" Harlow smiled. "My little troublemaker is growing up."
I snickered under my breath. The thought of Quincy growing up was truly hilarious, but Harlow wasn't wrong. While he was still just as off and crazy as always, he was trying to grow. And he was doing his best. That's all I wanted out of him. Not perfection. Just accountability. As a matter of fact, it was all I wanted out of most of the people in my life. Quincy was one of the first that stepped up to the plate.
We drove over to the place and Harlow climbed out with me. I had to admit, I was glad there was someone with me. My nerves were frayed, like one single touch could set me on fire. We walked up a dingy set of steps. The carpet smelled like piss and mold. If the building was this bad, how fucked up was her place? When we reached a door, Harlow knocked loudly and hard.
"Etta. It's Harlow. Can I come in?"
The door cracked open a bit and an eye was shoved against the slit. She looked both of us up and down before the door shut. The sound of a lock sliding back was the only indication we weren't just going to stand out there looking like idiots. When she opened up again, I stared at the mountain of chaos behind her. It was worse than anything I'd ever seen at Quincy's. Boxes and mounds of things nearly reached the ceiling. There was a narrow pathway through the clutter, but you couldn't even see the floor. Not really. It was just more... stuff. The smell wasn't much better. Sweet, putrid aromas of rotten food, and other things I didn't want to guess at hit me full force.
Quincy had to live like this?
"Shit," I muttered.
The woman narrowed her eyes at me. "Who the hell are you?"
Suddenly, I wasn't nervous anymore. I'd been worried about meeting his mother, about making the right impression for half a second. But now, all I cared about was protecting Quincy.
"Your landlord wants you out." I nodded toward a red flyer sitting on a mound of crap in the corner. "I take it that's not your first eviction notice."
She sneered. The woman looked less like an elderly woman and more like the devil. But I didn't back down. Instead, I shoved my hands into my pockets.
"Who the hell do you think you are?" she asked. "Who is this, Harlow?"
"I'm Quincy's husband."
The woman's eyes darkened as she stared at me. "Husband," she muttered and let out a disdainful scoff. "As if anyone would marry that wreck."
My jaw tensed. I felt it, the pressure of my teeth meeting shot through my jaw and down my neck. I'd never hit a woman before, but I was right on the edge of making her the first. Quincy seemed to take all of my firsts that way.
"Well, I did," I said. "And you need to clear out. I've found you a place to go, but you can't stay here. They're talking about suing Quincy. He's just getting on his feet again and?—"
The woman laughed in my face. "It's a son's duty to take care of his mother," she hissed. "If you think for one second I'm going to leave even one of my treasures, you've lost your mind. Now, get the hell out of my face!"
She went to slam the door on me, but I shoved my foot into the door. The flimsy wood slammed into my toe. I sucked in a sharp breath and barged into the apartment. Stepping inside just made things so much worse. The smell was almost overwhelming, making my eyes water as I moved through it. No wonder the landlord was pissed. Even in this hellhole, her place was ten times worse than anything around it. I watched a roach scurry over a stack of clothes. Imagining that bug crawling on Quincy as he slept when he was a kid, or hell, even when he came to visit, made my stomach pitch.
Doesn't he see he deserves so much more than this?
"Harlow, what is he doing? Stop him!"
"Shhh," Harlow whispered to her. "I wanna see where this goes."
I looked at the rusting, old personal heaters that littered the place. Even as they chugged away, they weren't keeping anything warm. The apartment was freezing. I grabbed Quincy's knife and crouched down. One of the space heaters, the oldest of the bunch from the looks of it, already had a fraying cord. I angled the knife and started cutting until it was completely exposed. Once it was, I tossed it back on the ground, piled some crap on top of it, and cranked it up the highest it would go.
"What are you doing!" the woman exclaimed.
"You're getting out of this apartment," I said as I walked back over to her slowly. "I suggest you find your purse, some mementos you can't live without, and your shoes. I already picked out a facility for you to move into. People can watch you there, they'll make sure you're safe."
"Who do you think you?—"
"Shut. Up," I said calmly. "You're lucky I'm this kind because if I was any one of my brothers, you would be strapped down to that disgusting chair and burned alive for your bullshit." I moved closer until she tried to shrink back, but couldn't. "Quincy deserves a hell of a lot better than you. But I can also tell he loves you. And I can't take away something he loves. Not even a miserable old asshole who goes out of her way to be cruel. So, shut up. Get your things. And walk out of here. This place and all this shit is going up in flames. Go. Now."
"You can't do this," she muttered.
"Save the crocodile tears. They don't work on me."
Harlow and I found her a ratty pair of shoes, a coat, and her bag that was buried under mounds of crap. She insisted she needed two of the dolls on the shelf and a few other odds and ends before I smelled the first tendrils of smoke.
"Time to go." I pulled my phone out. "It should be going up soon. Keep an eye on it."
"Yes, Mr. Vitale."
Harlow and I led Etta to the car and got her into the backseat. When we took off, the fire was just starting to really glow, smoke licking the air. I knew most people were at work, and the few that weren’t wouldn't be affected. I'd already paid off the fire captain to let it burn for a while. I needed that apartment to be unusable and everything in it. Out of sight, out of mind. If it was still there, she would just try to go back.
The sound of her crying tugged at my heart strings for half a second, until I remembered the look on Quincy's face. Yeah, he would probably be more than pissed off at me, but I had to do it. She was sick and needed help, but he couldn't do what needed to be done.
I could.
"Where to?" Harlow asked.
"I paid for a facility a little ways out of town. Thought some trees and openness might be nice after all that clutter."
He nodded. "You're a better man than me," Harlow said before he lowered his voice. "I definitely would have killed her."
"Quincy wouldn't want that."
"No." He sighed. "I don't think he would. You did good."
I glanced at Harlow. "Thank you. That actually means a lot."
"Don't be so sappy about it, little Vitale. It's one damn compliment," he muttered.
I grinned. "You're sweet."
"Keep it up. I'll pull this car over and make you and the bag of bones walk."
The laugh that burst out of me made my sides hurt. Harlow really tried to act all tough, but he wasn't so bad. I was glad he was on my side because he still freaked me out. As we drove, I thought about Quincy. I hoped putting her in a nice place would make up for my semi-impulsive decision.
Now all I had to do was tell him.