12. Roman
TWELVE
ROMAN
I AM TRYING TO SPEND AS little time at my father's house as humanly possible. This is the second week in a row that I've stayed busy either working, drinking, or fucking random women. I'm not sure how much longer I can keep this going, not when I promised Joseph that I'd handle whatever trouble my little cousin was in.
Of course, I assured him of all of this way before I spotted her in the middle of the Club Lotus dance floor. Completely before, I fantasized about claiming all of her orgasms for the next year. Totally before I propositioned her at my father's birthday party. Absolutely before I learned that she is my fucking cousin.
I've thought about running by the house a million times. Even though I don't live there anymore, I still have a room there. Juliette insisted on it and didn't care what Joseph had to say about it. And even though we have an office on South Broad, Joseph likes to handle a lot of his business out of their home. He's old school. He likes to fax versus email, the phone over texting, and he absolutely prefers talking in person above all of that. I think it's because he likes to look you in the eyes and see if you're lying or not. So, he's always asking me to swing by the house to talk to me about this or pick up that. I should have been by the house a million times by now.
But I can't do it.
Why? Because when I'm near Elizabeth, I have this unexplainable craving to touch her. Now that I've held her in my arms once, I can't help but want to hold her again. Preferably in a horizontal position. It's pretty pathetic how I regress into a horny thirteen-year-old boy when I think about Elizabeth. I haven't seen her since the night of Joseph's party, but my dick has been brick hard fantasizing about her every single fucking day since.
Totally wound up last night from all my pent up frustration, I couldn't sleep and found myself thinking about her. Imagining if I stayed over the house and pulled Elizabeth into my old bedroom. I'd sit her on the edge of my bed, dressed in only a thong and a pair of heels by my special request. I don't even know if she wears thongs, but hey it's my fantasy. She'd spread her legs on my command, and then I'd get on my knees, slide her thong over slowly and lick her clit expertly and thoroughly until she cried for release.
Fuck.
I don't even want to say out loud to myself how fucked up this is, because blood or no blood, Elizabeth is family. She is Juliette's niece, and I respect Juliette. She's been nothing but good to me ever since I was a kid, which means I need to treat her niece like a cousin; not like my next piece of ass.
The old man is no fool either. If I keep avoiding the house for too much longer, he's going to know something is up. He's paid well to know shit before other people do. To sense shit. If he really starts paying any serious attention to my behavior around Elizabeth, or rather my inability to be around Elizabeth, he will immediately see right through me, and he won't like it.
The only thing keeping the nosy bastard off my case is the fact that he's preoccupied with the Mendez job. A baseball steroids case. It pays a shitload of money if we can get to any potential witnesses and pay them to say exactly what we want them to say during his hearing with Major League Baseball. Joseph hasn't asked for my help on it yet, which is fine by me. I've got my hands full with a million other things.
In my lame effort to avoid all things Elizabeth this week, I slept with a bank manager named Louise. What a head case. She's been full-blown phone stalking me for the last twenty-four hours, and I have no one to blame but myself. I have always forgotten the last woman with the next, but this time the shit isn't working. Instead, all I've created for myself is a colossal headache. So rather than getting some meaningless head tonight from another crazy woman, I've decided to drink myself senseless with the fun snatcher–Camden. Getting trashed with someone more miserable than me is a lot simpler than trolling for pussy.
"Pass me an egg roll."
"Take all of them. I don't want to eat any more of this shit,” I gripe.
"Are you on your period? You are acting like a real bitch."
"And you aren't?"
Camden has been my friend for over ten years. We met our junior year of high school when we got into a fight in gym class over a girl named Samantha Minta. Pretty smile and a fat ass, but not worth the week’s detention we both received for fighting on school property. We've been cool ever since.
"I have to keep an eye on my cousin, and I don't feel like it,” I lamely explain.
"That's why you're so pissy? Fuck it, I'll do it. Is she hot?"
Just the question alone made me want to kick Camden straight in the teeth. It wasn't his fault, though. I haven't told him anything about Elizabeth. He has no idea that I'm lusting after my own damn cousin, but there's no way in hell that I'd tell him. I mean, if he told me something like that, I'd probably beat his ass just because.
"Drop it, Cam."
"Why? Is she a wildebeast?"
"You've been watching National Geographic again?" I smirk.
"What's wrong with her, asshole?"
"Nothing's wrong with her."
"Protective, are we then?"
"Not really," I try to say nonchalantly. "I just don't want you trying to fuck her. She's family."
"Why don't you just send Jade over there then? Make her take her out or something."
"It's more complicated than taking her out. She's in some sort of trouble. Joseph wants me to handle it."
"Well, that's even easier then. It's a babysitting job with a purpose."
By purpose, I bet he doesn't mean me plotting and planning on how many ways I'm going to make Elizabeth call out my name in agonizing bliss.
"Yeah, I guess,” I mutter.
Camden squirts a little duck sauce on his egg roll and takes a bite.
"So what does Joseph plan on doing with the club?"
"I don't know. I just know he's tasked me with the job of whipping the motherfucker back into shape, after we planned its self destruction so perfectly."
"That's what we do,” Camden says somewhat sarcastically. "We've done it a hundred times. We did it with that club on Second Street and we're going to have to do it with The Lotus. What else is new? I just wish I knew what he wants with a couple of local night spots. He probably will make triple what those clubs would make in a year just by handling the Mendez job. It makes no sense."
I can hear the doubt in Camden's voice. I'm not judging. He's probably right to question Joseph's motives. I just need to know where my friend's head is at. I don't need any Joseph/Camden shit blowing up in my face.
"What the hell is your real problem with the old man? What aren't you telling me?"
"Nothing, man. Just talking out loud,” he brushes the topic off. "So this cousin of yours, she's over twenty-one right?"
"Yeah, I'm pretty sure Juliette mentioned that she was twenty-three or four.”
I'm such a fucking joke right now. Juliette didn't tell me shit, because she didn't have to. I already know my cousin's age and just about every other thing that's on public record for one Miss Elizabeth Hill from Penn-Washington, Pennsylvania.
She's never had a parking ticket, she has zero student loans, but she's up to her eyeballs in credit card debt. She has a few social media accounts that she isn't really active on unless she's talking about college debt or some gibberish. She also has a rather large medical bill on record, seeing as though she was hospitalized recently for a head concussion and minor lacerations. An incident I won't tell Joseph anything about until I know more.
"So what's she doing living with them?"
"I'm assuming it has something to do with the trouble she's in, idiot. Did you not hear anything I said? All I know is she lost her apartment or something. She used to live over by the art museum. It's my job to find out why."
"You want me to run a check?"
At Masterson & Associates, I am the muscle, Cutter is the schmoozer, and Camden is the techie. He spent a lot of our youth breaking into computer systems for fun, and now he gets paid by Joseph to do it. Usually to gain leverage over someone. He might be able to find out everything I need to know about Elizabeth with a few simple strokes of the keyboard, but where's the fun in that?
"Uh-uh, I got it."
"You never answered my original question, and hand me the bottle." He points to the bottle of Jack Daniels I brought over.
"What question?"
"Is. She. Hot?"
"You can't fuck her, Camden!"
Or I'll have to kill your ass.
"That's not what I asked." Camden roars with laughter. "But since you brought it up, let me meet her. I'll find out everything you need to know."
"Hell, no,” I say through gritted teeth.
"Why? I'm a gentleman. I'm way better to women than you have ever been."
Unfortunately, he's right.
"You're a miserable asshole. Hell. No."
"Eh, I'll meet her at the club. When are you bringing her? You gotta keep an eye on her, right? You'll have to bring her to the club at some point."
"Camden–" I'm barely holding it together. "You sound like your horny brother right now."
"I'm doing you a favor," he says sarcastically.
He's right about one thing, though. I can't run from this forever. It's time to man up. I pour myself a shot and make the tough decision.
"I'll go check on her and bring her to the club tomorrow, but I just want you and Cutter to be friendly to her. Put her at ease. Otherwise she's hands off. Don't let me have to tell you again."
"All I want to know is, Is. She. Hot?"
Fuck yes.
"She's family, asshole. I haven't even thought about it."