Chapter 32
THIRTY-TWO
Xander got his truck back and insisted on bringing Roberto the money again.
So, over the last few days, I’ve headed straight to the bar after my internship, where Sophia and I have brainstormed over my parents’ case, then returned to Sophia’s to sleep, which always ends with Joshua cuddling me in the morning.
It seems impossible to find out which paramedics were on the scene or where the car went. Somebody did a thorough job. And my gut tells me that somebody is connected to the Del Moros.
Today is Friday, and I am so happy to spend the day with Xander, or at least near him, tomorrow.
And family Sunday should bring some hours with all of them.
The three of them consume my thoughts, and I hate the current status quo since I have too little time to spend with them. We text a lot, but it is not the same.
Today, Sophia had a meeting to attend and told me I could leave an hour earlier than usual when she left, so I thought I would use the time to get to Howie and update him on everything. Besides, I haven’t seen him for way too long.
When I get there, I quickly find that he is not, so I walk over to the 7-Eleven, where I grab our usual burgers and Coke before rounding the corner to find him in our spot.
“It is freezing. What are you doing here?” I ask, tossing Howie his burger and sitting down. Then I hand him the Coke.
“Those people in there are driving me nuts. Someone always wants to talk,” he grunts out, his frustration evident. He glances over at me and adds, “Thank you.”
I chuckle, realizing the irony of our conversation. “Should I shut up, and we eat in silence?” I tease, opening my package too.
Fuck, I missed these cheap-as-fuck burgers.
His response, however, catches me off guard. “You are the only one who fills my battery and does not drain it.” He shrugs, taking a bite of his burger.
My gaze softens when I look over at him. “Right back at you, Howie.”
“Where were you anyway?” he asks. “Haven’t seen you in nearly two weeks again. You have to update me more often, kid. This worry isn’t good for my heart.”
I take a deep breath. “I am sorry, there is a lot that happened.”
“Well, I’ve got time.” He raises an eyebrow at me, waiting for me to continue.
I take another bite, trying to gather my confidence. “You remember how I told you that my boyfriend’s best friends seem to have a thing for me too?”
Howie’s frown deepens, but he answers with a hint of sarcasm, “How many times do I have to tell you that I am not senile yet?”
“Okay, well, it looks like I am with all of them now.” I cringe, avoiding his eyes.
“That’s nice, Lina. I am happy for you,” he states casually before sipping his Coke.
I furrow my brow, feeling a bit underwhelmed by this response. “That’s all?”
I thought he would have at least asked some more questions.
“What did you expect? Should I go get a confetti bomb?” he retorts, frowning right back at me.
I snort at his dry humor. “No, but maybe a little more than ‘that’s nice.’ ”
“Are you happy, Lina?” he asks me, his expression softening.
“More than happy,” I admit, a genuine smile creeping onto my face as I look down at my lap.
“That’s all I need to know,” Howie consoles warmly. “You’re a strong woman, but you never had the choice not to be. I hope they give you the luxury of letting yourself be weak for once.”
As I mull over his words, we eat the rest of our burgers in silence. And I realize this is something I miss. Howie has always been there for me. I really need to make it a point to visit more often like I should.
After a few minutes, I change the subject.
“There is some other stuff that happened.” He perks an eyebrow at me, and I fall into a monologue of how Clay and Joshua went to talk to the witness, how the Del Moros kept threatening me about the accident, and what I overheard Roberto say on the phone.
Finally, I close with, “Two days ago, Del Moro made a comment about me still being alive, and I saw a black cross tattooed on his wrist, the same one Roberto has tattooed on the back of his hand.”
Howie’s eyebrows shoot to his hairline, “A black cross? Are you sure?” I nod. “Haven’t you just told me he is a cop?”
“He is,” I confirm.
Howie takes a deep breath before he speaks again, “Kiddo, the black cross is the sign of the Metro Milanesi.”
I shake my head in disbelief. “No, that makes no sense. Why would Roberto have a Metro Milanesi tattoo?” I huff, dismissing it.
Howie sucks in a breath. “You really don’t know?”
I feel a knot forming in my stomach and a sense of foreboding creeping over me. “What?” I ask, my voice trembling slightly as I search his face.
“Fuck, Lina, I thought you knew!” His rising panic mirrors my own growing anxiety. “Everyone in the neighborhood knows. Even I heard about it, and before you came along, I never talked to anyone.”
“What should I have known?” I ask, reaching over to grip his hand.
The world seems to spin as I wait for him to respond.
“Roberto was the enforcer for the Metro Milanesi before they scattered,” Howie reveals, his words hitting me like a ton of bricks.
My heart sinks as I process the gravity of that statement.
“Although, they don’t seem to be gone since I heard a lot of shit is going on again in the streets,” Howie continues, his tone somber. “And I haven’t heard anything new about him, but a few years ago, everyone was scared of him. He was more feared than the boogie man.”
My head is spinning, and a sense of dread settles in the pit of my stomach.
No wonder he knows all the ways to hurt someone properly, even when dead drunk.
“And you think that cross on Del Moro’s wrist means that he is a Milanesi too?” I ask.
It would make sense. Del Moro Sr. was friends with my uncle, after all. But they are cops, for fuck’s sake.
Howie shrugs, his expression troubled as he bites his lip. “I don’t know, maybe it’s just a cross. But this all seems way too close not to be related.”
Shortly after midnight, I’m cleaning up the bar as I still mull over what Howie said. The evening was slow for a Friday, and Cindy and Donny have already left.
Lennard puts his head through the door to the kitchen. “Carolina, we’re leaving. You good?”
“Sure. Night,” I answer, having already closed up the front.
I just need to finish the cleanup real quick, and then I am out of here too.
Fucking finally, I need a shower.
A few minutes later, I pull on my jacket and backpack and head out the back door, turning to lock it up.
“You didn’t even look around,” Clay accuses from behind me, his voice stern, and I nearly jump out of my skin at his sudden appearance.
“What the hell, Clay?” I turn and scowl at him, my heart still pounding from the surprise.
“No, what the hell, kitten? I could have been a fucking serial killer, and you didn’t even check the dark alleyway before you stepped out and turned your back to the threat,” he practically yells, his concern evident.
“Easy, love,” I hear Xander’s soft voice from my right, and now I have to give Clay some credit because I hadn’t seen him there either.
“Okay, fine. I will check from now on,” I concede, understanding that he might have a point.
“Yes, you will, but we will get you from now on every fucking night. The thought of you closing that godforsaken bar alone doesn’t sit well with me,” Clay declares firmly.
“I’ve done it for years,” I huff out, putting the key back into my backpack and starting to walk.
Xander and Clay fall into step with me, and Xander puts an arm around me, pulling me close to him and making my heart flutter.
“I don’t give a fuck. Now you have us, and you don’t do that shit anymore. A resting bitch face is not a means of defense. Maybe I should get you a gun,” he grumbles.
“Fuck you, Clay. I don’t want a gun, and I was fine before you came along,” I argue, my independence flaring up in response to his protectiveness.
But Xander halts me in my tracks, his grip on my chin firm yet gentle.
“Someone is threatening you. And we still don’t know if they are empty threats.
You’re not going to argue with us on this.
You can be independent as fuck again when this shit is over, but right now, you’re going to do what you’re told for once,” he says, eyes fixed on mine.
I cross my arms over my chest, biting my lip.
His thumb wanders up to my bottom lip, pulling it out from between my teeth. “Say it.”
“Fucking fine,” I mumble, and he leans down to kiss me hard.
I grip his jacket with both hands, pulling myself up to him, but suddenly, he eases the kiss down to a soft caress before he pulls away from me.
I see his breath fog in the cold when he praises, “That’s my girl.”
My pussy throbs in response. The power this man has over my body with just his words is not healthy.
Clay comes over and steals me out of Xander’s grasp, putting an arm around me. “I told Joshua we wanted to have you to ourselves for tonight, so you’re going to sleep in our bed.”
“And he is okay with that?” I ask, feeling my stomach turn.
“Oh, he is. He needed some more sleep for once anyway,” Clay assures me, but I just nod, unconvinced. “And before you fall off the cliff of conclusions, I think he even texted you that it’s fine.”
I pull my phone out of my backpack, and a text from Joshua is waiting for me.
Joshua
Enjoy your night, my Carolina. I love you–Always.
“Okay,” I concede on an exhale. “I would love to sleep in your room tonight.”
Finally, Clay’s grumpy face transforms into a big smile. “Come on, let’s get you home.”