Chapter 11 - Adrian #2
She smiles at me. “My father might have been good to me when I was younger. I can’t specifically claim I had a bad childhood or a difficult time.
But now, as an adult, I can see things differently, and while it’s difficult to accept, I won’t deny it.
It seems like the people in my life just can’t be honest with me about things,” she sighs, and I get the guilty sense that she is still pissed off with me about keeping my mafia ties hidden from her in the beginning. I wonder if she will ever forgive me.
“I think you’re doing well, Athena. You’ve been through a lot in the past month or so. A lot has happened, and your world has changed in ways you might never have imagined. Only a really strong person would be able to process and deal with all of that like you have.”
She smiles sweetly, her eyes softening.
“Thank you, Adrian. I appreciate that.” Her eyes lock with mine, and we stare at each other in silence for a moment. This is the moment when I would lean across the table to kiss her. Every cell in my body is telling me to do it. To touch my lips to hers. To feel the softness of them.
Of course, that is the exact moment the waiter arrives with our food.
***
Over the next few days, I can’t get the look in her eyes out of my mind. The way she spoke about her father, it was easy to tell she was hurting. The man broke her heart. He betrayed her in many ways.
The more I think about it, the angrier I get.
Finally, I can’t take it anymore, and I have to do something about it.
With the phone pressed against my ear, I wait for Antonio to answer.
“Boss.” His voice comes through the line.
“Ant, how are things?”
“Good, good, did you want an update on yesterday’s shipment?” he asks.
“Yes, but not now. That’s not why I called. I wanted to find out what the latest was with the guys who are tracking Ricardo Mendelez?”
“Ugh, it’s the same old same old, hey. He spends all his time at hole-in-the-ground bars.
Gambling, drinking, hanging around with low lives.
There really isn’t much to report, but we are still keeping an eye on him.
Oh, shit, actually, one thing did come up yesterday, I can’t believe I almost forgot.
He got into a deal with a guy name Frank Clessara. ”
“Clessara… isn’t that man involved with trafficking!” I stammer in shock.
“That’s the one. Seems that Ricardo is looking to make some quick money, and he doesn’t care how he goes about it.”
“Shit. That fucker doesn’t know when to quit,” I grumble.
“No. If he’s willing to dirty his hands with trafficking, that means he doesn’t have a limit of decency.”
“Listen, do you maybe know if he’s made any inquiries into where his daughter might be. Or made any effort to try to reach her? Has he been asking about her?” I ask.
It’s not that I want him to reach out to Athena. I actually want him to stay as far the fuck away from her as possible, but I do need to know where his head is with regards to her.
“Nothing. He hasn’t mentioned her to anyone at the bars. He hasn’t asked about her. He doesn’t have people on the ground asking around either.”
“Nothing? Like fuck all? A father can really just forget about his own daughter like that?” I stammer in disbelief.
“I reckon I’d prefer it that way,” Antonio says.
“Yeah, man. I agree. It’s just… it isn’t right. A father should care for his daughter. Anyway, it makes it easier for me if he’s so willing to forget about her.”
“Look, just because he hasn’t asked in public doesn’t mean he has forgotten. Don’t underestimate the guy.”
“I won’t.”
We end the call, and I can’t get the whole thing out of my head.
So, he’s into trafficking now.
What if he has a plan to come find her, and somehow she ends up caught in that shit show? I would never forgive myself if I overlooked this possibility and didn’t do something about it before it happened.
This guy is worse than scum.
What kind of a father doesn’t even want at least the smallest confirmation that his kid is, ok? Like she’s still alive and happy? Can he really care so little?
The thought is the last straw, and it has me pushing back from my desk and grabbing my car keys. I think I need a little face-to-face with this guy.
It’s seven in the evening. Snow is falling, and tonight is particularly cold. I can feel it biting into my bones when I walk into the smoke-stained bar on Fifth Street downtown.
It stinks in here. It always stinks in these places.
I adjust my jacket over my shoulders and roll my neck, hearing it crack once.
My eyes drift over the faces. They look numb.
Numb, empty, and hollow. No one in here has any soul left inside them.
They are on autopilot. Draining their lives away, changing their karma for one more round of poker. They look dead inside.
Her father is sitting on a tall chair at the bar, leaning over it as though he’s already had too many drinks.
He picks up his beer and drains the last of it from the bottle. He looks dirty and dodgy.
“Harold!” he snaps at the barman, holding up the empty bottle.
“Your tab is at its limit, man,” the barman says, shaking his head.
“Oh, for fuck sakes, you know I’m good for it. Just one more,” Ricardo scoffs angrily.
“Not a fuck. And I actually don’t know if you’re good for it. You never pay. I always have to chase you down. I’m trying to run a business here, man, not a charity,” the barman says sternly.
“Fuck you then!” Ricardo snaps.
Someone shouts from the back of the bar. “He’s pissed cus he lost his last dollar on the game he just played.”
Cold laughter ripples through the place.
“Fuck all of you!” Ricardo stands up, shaking his fist at his so-called-friends.
“Calm down, man. It’s only the beginning of the month. Go home, go to bed. it aint our fault you gambled your whole earnings so fast.”
Ricardo mutters angrily as he shoves the chair aside, toppling it over.
I follow him out of the bar and into the alley behind the building. The cold bites harder at my skin.
“Ricardo,” I snarl as he staggers around looking for a place to piss.
“Who the…” he turns to look at me, and shock registers across his face.
“Hey, no way, we had a deal. My debt with you is settled!” he blurts out.
I step closer to him, towering over him with menace in my eyes.
“I came here to make sure you were sticking to that deal.”
“What the fuck, man, what do you want from me?” he stammers.
“I want to hear it from you—that you are honoring the deal. That you won’t come anywhere near Athena ever again.”
“I…I…” he mumbles, trying to take a step backward.
“Because if you do, I swear you know what I’m capable of? Right? The only reason I haven’t skinned you alive and hung your lifeless body from one of the streetlights is that you are her father. If you were anyone else, you’d be dead. Do you understand?”
He nods, his red-rimmed eyes wide with fear.
“One wrong move, Ricardo. One move. The Bratva monster in me will come out.”
I step away from him partly because I can’t handle the smell of him.
He’s still nodding, “Yeah, man, yeah,” he mutters. “I’ll stay away,” he says.
I sneer, disgusted by him. As a human being, as a soulless asshole. He never deserved a daughter as beautiful as Athena.
Turning on my heel, I walk away, leaving him alone in the alleyway. Hopefully, I got my message across. I really don’t want to have to kill her father. I can’t imagine she would be very pleased with me if I did.