Eighteen
The first thing that I did after Edison answered my questions was check my app to ensure Amy had stayed put at the shelter.
It wasn’t sitting well with me that this girl had gone through all of this tonight, and that mine was within a fucking block of gunfire, an attempted rape, and a dead gangbanger in the alleyway that runs behind our establishments.
I was taking it as a personal offense that these fuckers were not only on Rossi territory but also putting my lady in danger by just breathing within a thirty-foot radius of her.
Amy never disconnected herself from my location tracker five years ago when we were forced to end things between us.
She’s the slimeball Mayor’s only daughter, and I’m Vincenzo Rossi’s youngest grandson.
Politics and organized crime usually go together like sauce and meatballs on Sundays, but in this case, our families are like oil and water.
I like to think that she wants me to keep an eye on her to make sure that she’s safe, and I do. I’d die for that woman. I’ll protect her forever, in this lifetime and the next. She’s the love of my life, even if we’re not together in this one.
And just to be sure, I had a tracker put on her car and had one of our guys “sell’ her a state-of-the-art home security system that I backed when she called me about it. Her monthly payment was “waived” since she’s a “community support,” and she didn’t hesitate to sign up.
I know where she is at all times. From my phone, I can monitor her home, her car, and all of her movements.
Not that she does much. My lady has the biggest heart and has a bad habit of working eighteen-hour days, seven days a week.
It’s gotten so bad that most of the time she sleeps in her office when she’s too tired to go home.
So I do too. I stay at the shop when she stays at the shelter. It keeps me closer to her.
And when she goes home, I do too. Especially because I bought the house that butts up against her backyard on the street behind hers. She has no idea that my bedroom faces her bedroom. It’s as close to her as I can get.
It’s been five years too long since I’ve held her, kissed her, told her that I love her, and heard her say it back. I miss my lady every minute of every day.
After I checked up on her, I sent a message to our guys to go and clean up the back alley.
I told them to hose it down and get rid of anything they needed to.
They knew what to do, and an hour later, they texted me to say that the job was done.
Then I sent them out to find out as much as they could about this new gang that’s moved in.
Whoever they are, they’re on Rossi soil and need to pack it up and move elsewhere. Otherwise, I’ll have to kill ‘em all.
Shit has really started to escalate in town, and I’ll be damned if danger ends up on her doorstep. There’s been more and more activity here, and I don’t want her getting caught up in it if I can help it.
Her piece of shit old man is a major part of the problem.
He’s doing everything he can to push hard-working lower and middle-class folks out and attract as many wealthy people as he possibly can.
He’s made shady deals with real-estate developers to bulldoze subsidized housing and build luxury homes that most locals could never afford.
He looked at his precious daughter in her beautiful blue eyes and struck down her proposal to renovate the new community center, and then expected her for dinner that night.
He’s in bed with the President of HU and gently encourages, aka demands, that the admissions committee continue to accept a certain caliber of incoming students.
He wants Havenwood to be a city full of folks like him.
Rich assholes with no regard for anyone but themselves.
He doesn’t give a fuck that his actions overload and overwhelm his selfless daughter at the shelter, the soup kitchen, and the community center. She spends all of her time caring for and managing as many people as her programs can safely handle.
Amy works all day and most nights to stretch every hour that she has. She’ll stay up all night researching grants to apply for funding and then will draft countless letters to local businesses asking for partnership and support. My girl’s a fucking gem.
He’s hoping that she’ll just quit. Joke's on him because Amy doesn’t give up easily. Except when it came to us.
He’s also banking on the Rossis getting greedy enough that we all move out of town and relocate west to Nevada full-time. Not gonna happen. My uncles and cousins out there have things under control. The rest of us are doing just fine here, and I’ve got no plans to leave.
My old man is one of five boys, and each of my uncles has taken on a branch of the empire that my grandfather and his brothers built after returning home from killing off Nazis overseas. That’s how long the Rossi name has been in business here in Havenwood. This is our fucking town.
Even after my uncles left to set up shop in Vegas, we kept shit going.
And by shop, I mean a sports betting empire.
It was around the same time that my other uncle retired from pro baseball.
And now we’ve gone from one pro ball player to four.
My uncle’s got three sons who have gone from HU to the big leagues, and having these connections has paid off for all of us.
My grandparents wanted to stay put here in Havenwood and maintain our family’s interests and investments locally when we discussed expanding. In addition to my shop, we own or co-own a shit ton of local businesses and land.
Part of my job is to make sure that shit stays civil out here and to keep the neighborhood running smoothly. This used to be my old man’s, and as soon as I was done with my apprenticeship, he handed me the keys. The next day, he headed out to meet my uncle out west.
My grandfather built a community around us.
He demands respect and has no problem giving it back.
He believes in working hard and playing hard.
He maintains a sense of order and adheres to a routine.
If you gamble and lose, you'd better pay up. If you cause trouble in town, you’ll face consequences.
If you shoot first, we’ll shoot back. They’re simple rules, and if you break them, the Rossis will fucking break you.
I’m working on a theory that Amy’s father is ignoring these low-life gangsters on purpose. It’s obvious he’s trying to scare and trap the folks who are hanging on by a thread.
He also knows it’ll get our attention. And it has.
He’s hiked up taxes, spent city taxpayer dollars on money pit projects that he has no intention of finishing, and he’s cut funding to a ton of programs that our community relies on.
I’d bet my shop that he’s trying to get people caught in the crosshairs of drugs, bad loans, and drama, so that they either go to jail or end up leaving before having to end up in Amy’s shelter to sleep or in the soup kitchen to eat.
He’s trying to fucking run her into the ground, too, over my fucking dead body.
I couldn’t believe it when I saw the way Hunt looked at Edison as she came barreling through the shop.
I saw his whole future flash before his eyes.
It’s the same way that I looked at Amy all those years ago.
We officially met at HU, but I’ve known who she was for as long as I can remember.
I loved her from day one, and not a night has gone by that I don’t miss her like hell.
From the second she shot through that back door, to when he woke up in an absolute fucking panic, I could see his feelings tripling by the minute for her.
I saw it in her eyes, too. She’s got a soft spot for him that she’s trying to fill with concrete, but it’s not working.
It seems like he tried to ignore it, too.
He’s only seemed to have scratched the surface of how he really feels about her.
She’s scared to let him in and plays better defense than he does. This girl’s tough as nails and won’t hesitate to fuck anyone up. She’s got guts, and he likes that. His dopey-ass smile says it all. It’s what I love about my badass girl, too.
That stupid kid is like a brother to me, and I’m gonna do everything that I can to keep Edison safe for him and for Amy.
I’ll cover her tracks and help her get on her feet.
And then I’ll wipe these fuckers out for thinking Havenwood is a town that they can run.
They can’t and they won’t. I once promised Amy that I’d always get rid of the bugs when we were together, and now it's no different. I’ve got no problem squashing them all.
And I’ll sleep just fine knowing that they no longer exist in the same world as my lady.
Speaking of that little shit, my phone won’t shut the fuck up with Hunt’s messages. He’s been asking me for updates every five minutes since he left this morning, and nothing I say is calming his ass down.
Yes, I took care of the back alley. Evidence was washed away, and trash was taken out before you fell asleep on the floor, bro.
No, there isn’t anything back there that can tie Ed to what happened. Not my first crime scene, kid.
No, there’s been zero police activity in the area and even less chatter on the coms. We’ve got cops on the Rossi payroll as well as eyes and ears all over town.
Yes, I do think she’s coming back tonight. She said she would, and that’s all I can go by, man.
Yes, I’ve already got my cousin installing extra security cameras and motion lights in the back of the shop in case she decides to come in that way again. To be honest, that shoulda been done ages ago.
Yes, I’m working on figuring out who the fuck these guys are. All I’ve heard is that they run drugs and their guys get fucked up on their shit while pushing product. That tells me all I need to know.
Yes, we’ll handle the body cam video if it actually exists.
If their men are using instead of selling, then the boss might have them wear tech to monitor the dumbasses he’s got working for him.
Either way, whether it’s true or not, if there’s video out there, we’ll find it, use it to our advantage, and then destroy it.
No, you can’t have a gun. What the?! This idiot would end up shooting himself. Probably in the foot and blowing his whole hockey career. Then he’d be even more pissed off than he already is now.
No, you can’t have a knife. Is he stupid? Two weeks ago, he was being an impatient little fuck and insisted on shaving his arm by himself instead of waiting for me to take a piss. He cut himself with the razor and was bleeding all over the place. I’d be nervous to give him a nail clipper.
Yes, I know this is now all you’re thinking about. And aren’t I lucky to be on the receiving end of all your thoughts.
Yes, I know this girl is important to you. I can see it on your face and hear it in your voice. It’s like looking in the mirror, man, so yeah, I get it.
No, you shouldn’t follow her around all day. From what he’s told me, his brother follows around the girl he’s after. Like stands outside of her apartment and hides behind trees and shit. Maybe stalking from the heart runs in their family.
Yeah, man, I hear you, and I’m not surprised she’s acting like nothing happened. I’ve got a hunch that she’s seen this shit before, she’s experienced it first hand, and she’s been traumatized so many times that the only way she can cope with any new trauma is to act exactly as she is now.
Yes, I got your text about her liking cheese and bread. I mean, doesn’t most of the world like cheese and bread?
Yes, I’ll be on the lookout for your DoorDash order to arrive in the next five minutes. I’m used to him sending shit to the shop that he either doesn’t want his teammates to know about or that he doesn’t want to share. He’ll order all sorts of shit and have it delivered here.
This isn’t how our usual text messages go. First off, he’s using more words than usual. Most of the time, it’s just him letting me know when he’s coming through or letting me know that he’s reserved my seat at the rink for me. Even then, we usually give one-word or two-word responses.
I bet him hearing what went down last night got him all fucked up.
Sometimes I forget that not everyone is as immune as I am.
Maybe he’s freaked out that she had to defend herself to the literal death.
Honestly, I’d expect nothing less. If a man goes after a woman like that, she should absolutely kill him.
Good for you, Ed. You rid the world of one more scumbag.
He sends me another message to let me know his DoorDash order was delivered. I get up from the chair at the welcome desk, leaving my third cup of coffee next to a pile of mail that I’m trying to go through.
I open the front door, retrieve the grocery bag, and take a look inside. “Yeah, he’s definitely off his fucking rocker today,” I say out loud in the empty shop while shaking my head back and forth, when I spot several bags of croutons.