Chapter 17 - Adrian
I’ve danced between ignoring it and confronting the old man for disobeying my direct warning.
Ultimately, I can’t leave it alone because I want her to be happy. And she can’t be happy if he keeps pestering her.
So, late on Wednesday afternoon, I walk into another seedy bar in a downtown shit hole area that stinks of tobacco and sweat.
Ricardo notices me as soon as I walk in because he’s sitting, watching the door, smoking a cigarette in yellow-stained fingers.
“Back again?” he muses with a dry cough.
“It seems I didn’t make myself clear enough the first time,” I growl as I get closer to him. “Did I not tell you to leave her alone?”
He snorts. “Yeah, you made it pretty clear. The threats, the danger. Blah blah, you’ll break my legs or whatever,” he says, rolling his eyes.
I grab the collar of his shirt and tug him forward. He falls off the bar chair and hangs in my grip. The bar chair falls over. No one pays any attention. No one would step in to help him either. Not in a place like this.
He chokes on a breath as I release the collar slightly. “You need to learn your place, old man,” I snarl, giving him a handshake.
He coughs again, falling straight to the ground when I release his shirt.
He looks up at me, “What? I am supposed to be scared of you?” he scoffs.
I swing my arm, backhanding him hard across the face.
“Did I not tell you what I’d do to you? I am a man of my word after all!” I snap.
The fucker laughs.
He looks up at me with a cut lip, blood spilling down his chin. He smiles, and there is blood on his teeth. He fucking laughs.
I know my brows as he staggers to his feet, hanging onto a bar stool to steady himself. He leans heavily against the bar.
“You’re mad that I called my own daughter? Who the fuck do you think you are? I am her father. You’re just some asshole who came into her life by accident. I’ve known her my whole life, and yeah, I get to call her. She’s family.”
“You don’t get to call her and talk shit to her about things that have nothing to do with you,” I growl.
“Talk shit to her? I didn’t talk shit to her. I told her the truth. Everything I said about you was true, and I dare you to try to tell me otherwise. You’re a murdered. You’re a criminal. I know what you’ve done. Don’t stand there and fucking pretend to be this great man!”
He spits a puddle of blood onto the pub floor. It bubbles and spreads out.
“You own her? Is that what you think? You think you own my daughter?” he snarls, laughing bitterly.
I bunch my fists up, ready to take another swing at this asshole.
“You’re so fucking disgusting,” I hiss.
“Yeah, well. I’m your father-in-law now aint I? It’s true you married her, isn’t it?” he laughs again.
“So, what then? Are you suddenly Father of the Year? You want to spend time with her even though you didn’t even give a shit where she was for weeks and weeks after I took her. For all you know, she could have been dead, but you didn’t even ask about her once!”
“Hey, I was busy,” he says, holding his hands up.
“Busy pissing your life away in this shit hole or one just like it!”
“Don’t judge us,” he gestures around the room. “We might not have a shiny car like you or a slick-looking suit, but we are working fucking hard for what we got!”
“Work hard? Please. You stole your daughter’s money while you gambled your own away. That’s not working. That’s barely even existing,” I snap.
“Yeah, well, my family is rich now,” he snorts with laughter. “Aint you? Rich?” he taunts me.
“I’m not your fucking family, asshole.”
My blood is boiling. The anger is getting the better of me.
Looking around the bar, some people who’ve been watching hurriedly turn their faces away and are suddenly very preoccupied with whatever is closest to them. Yeah. No one here would give a shit if I put a bullet in his head. And no one would have seen anything either.
But I’m not that reckless. Not yet anyway.
With the way my anger is going, I might be.
I shake my head, stepping back to pull my thoughts together. I never expected such a cocky fucking attitude from him.
“I want to have dinner with my daughter and you. You owe me a dinner,” Ricardo says, wiping the back of his hand and his sleeve across his lip and his chin, then looking down at the blood staining the fabric. He licks his lips and scrunches his nose.
“I don’t fucking owe you anything, asshole, and neither does she,” I shout.
He’s making me lose my temper and myself control. I am ready to put a bullet through his skull, except I know I can’t do it. It’s not only about the witnesses. It’s about her. It’s about her never forgiving me.
And I think he knows it too, which is what’s driving me insane.
Ricardo snorts. “Dinner. I want to see my daughter. And you and I can talk.”
“What the hell would I ever want to talk to you about?” I demand.
“Business?” he shrugs.
And suddenly it all makes sense.
This old fool doesn’t give a shit about seeing Athena.
He couldn’t care less if he never sees her again.
The reason he called her after not bothering for so long, the reason he is talking to me now—it’s all in his head to take advantage of his connection to her.
To make some kind of a deal with me. He wants money.
He wants business. He wants anything and everything he can get his selfish paws onto.
I laugh coldly. “Why am I not surprised?” I mutter. “I should have seen it right away. Business?” I scoff.
“Family business,” he smiles.
I pull my gun, violence in my thoughts. Anger in my blood.
I press the nozzle against his temple and snarl close to his face. “I’ll fucking shoot you right now. There is no world in which I would do business with you. Or let you near her!”
He laughs. “Go ahead.”
“What!” I blurt out.
“Go ahead. Shoot me. What is your pretty little wife going to think when she finds out you killed her daddy? Will she forgive you? Will she be ok with it? Or will she see the monster you truly are and run away screaming?”
I press the barrel harder against his skull.
It digs into his skin. My finger tightens on the trigger.
But he’s right.
He has me in a corner.
The rage seers hotter, and I scream into his face.
He laughs.
I spin, glaring at the people watching. “What the fuck are you looking at!?” I yell at them.
No one answers. They all look away again.
I spin on my heel, desperate to get away from the man I so badly want to kill but can’t. Never in my life have I been faced with such intense anger that I can’t vent out in some way.
I march from the bar, storming toward my car as I shove the gun back into the holster on my side.
Driving, I automatically head to a bar I used to go to when I needed to let off some steam.
A bar on the other side of town. Far away from Ricardo and his stinking fucking attitude.
The barman glances over me, raising his brows when he sees the anger in my eyes.
“Tequila?” he asks.
“Double. Actually, leave the bottle on the counter.”
I take the first two shots in quick succession. Then pour another two, waving the barman away when he tries to do it for me.
Four shots in, I turn to look at the place. I haven’t been here in a long time.
Especially not since I met Athena. I haven’t even thought about it. It’s strange how a person can change your life so drastically without you realizing it.
The tequila pushes against the anger, fraying its edges. I take another two shots.
It’s working.
My vision is blurring. My head is warm and fuzzy.
The music is blaring, and the anger is somewhere lost in the back of my mind.
A girl slides up to me and brushes her fingers down the buttons of my shirt. “Hey, sexy. It’s been a while since I saw you. Where have you been?”
I squint, trying to pull her face into focus. “Leila?” I mutter.
“Did you miss me? Why haven’t you called?”
Leila and I have had a few flings in the past. A night here. A night there. Something to distract me from work or life in general.
It was never more than that.
She steps closer, and I realize she’s right up against me, her lips hovering near mine. Her perfume is sickly sweet. I never noticed that before.
I snort out a heavy breath, trying to expel the heavy scent from my nasal passages.
Taking her wrist, I try to push her away. She giggles and reaches up to touch my jaw. “You always did like to play rough. Don’t worry, I still like it too. DO you want to get our usual room? I’ve really missed you,” she says seductively.
“Leila,” I mutter. “You need to step back. I’m not interested,” I say as sternly as I can.
“What do you mean. Stop being ridiculous. You’ve never said no to me.”
“But you’re not her,” I blurt out in frustration. Fuck. My vision is spinning badly.
“Who!” she demands. “I promise you, she doesn’t matter. and she doesn’t even have to know,” she says, sounding whiny.
I laugh.
“I’ll know. Besides... I’m literally not interested. You’re not even tempting me. I don’t think anyone can tempt me anymore except her,” I say, staggering backward and almost tripping over my own feet.
I can’t remember ever being this drunk.
This is not good. I mean…rather be drunk than angry… but this is too drunk.
“Jackson!” I shout, my words slurring.
Leila pulls a face when I push her firmly away from me.
“Jack!” I shout again.
The barman appears next to me.
“You need a ride?” he asks.
“Yeah,” I stammer.
“Give me your keys,” he sighs. “Hey Mark, watch the bar. I’m dropping Adrian. I’ll grab a cab back. Won’t be long.”
“Put it on my tab,” I mutter as Jack leads me to the door.
“Oh, don’t worry. I plan to,” Jackson laughs.
“And a big tip,” I add.
“That too. We can talk in the morning, when your head isn’t spinning,” he chuckles. “Where did you park?”
I lean against my own car, parked in the driveway, while Jack books himself an Uber. “You sure you don’t need help getting inside?” he asks, checking again.
“Nah, man. I’m good.”
“Alright. I’m messaging you tomorrow.”
“Thanks,” I mutter, still slurring.
He jogs toward the gate, and I wait, making sure he gets out ok while I squint with one eye closed and try not to fall over.
When I am sure he’s out, I turn toward the front door. Fucking stairs. So many stairs.
Stupid fucking girl at the bar.