Chapter 52 #2
I did a doubletake, my chin tucking to the side.
“Me? Who? Everyone knows I live with Vin now.” Clucking my teeth, I groaned.
“Christ, is it the cops? Again?” The Boss assured me Mary’s case had gone cold and there was nothing to worry about.
He also promised that rival gangbanger found dead in the alley was not being linked to the Serpents, in any way.
“Uh, ahem. No?” He stepped all the way out, pulling at his nape. “It’s your parents.”
Everything around me swirled and the floor fell out from beneath me. All the air zapped from my lungs, I ogled him in horror, my heart thumping in my ears. My sight growing black around my peripheral, sounds went deaf except for my labored breaths.
“What?” I croaked.
“Yeah, I didn’t let them in. They tried to get in, but I slammed and locked the door in their faces.”
Violetta snickered and shrugged her arms out. “Why would you do…” Her attention landing on me, she fell silent, her mouth forming a quiet, Oh. “Seems there’s more I don’t know that Tyler does.” Smirking, she sat normally and recrossed her arms yet again. “Oh, no, you don’t like him, at all.”
Gulping the knot from my throat, I hastily tossed the bottle to the coffee table and scrambled to my feet.
Every step weighted with dread, I almost crashed through the screen door before staggering up the one step to the deck.
On the verge of hyperventilating, my brain was racing, having no clue how I should be feeling right now.
“Hey.” He patted the back of my shoulder and tipped his head into my sight. “Just take it easy, man, don’t let them get to you, okay? And if you need backup, just say the word.”
I gulped and nodded, staring into the house at the shadows moving on the other side of the frosted front door. “Uh huh.”
Patting me again, he gently pushed me in and closed the backdoor.
It had been years since I’d seen them, since they booted me from their house as a teenager.
Were they here because of what happened at their house?
I hadn’t exactly asked their permission to use it but knew they weren’t there and took a chance that they’d not changed the code to the gate.
Were they expecting me to pay for the repairs?
Because there was no way in hell I had that kind of money.
For what felt like forever, I was motionless, my feet nailed to the floor.
When one of them started jabbing the doorbell, I physically shook myself, breaking the fog.
Coughing, I very reluctantly strode across the house and down the hallway to the foyer.
My hand on the knob, I took a deep breath, outwardly composed myself, and then unlocked the deadbolt.
As soon as I opened it, I slid onto the porch and closed the door, not wanting them to even see inside.
Internally, I was trembling like a frightened little boy that had been neglected and abandoned by his parents at an early age, outwardly, I was hard and unforgiving. At least, hopefully.
Both decked out in dark, designer clothes, they looked about fifteen years younger than they were, some from living a carefree, childless life, some from cosmetic surgery.
His hair slicked back, there was a trace of silver at his temples, his naturally tanned skin darker than I recalled.
She was even more beautiful than ever, her hair pulled into a smooth, neat bun, her makeup flawless.
Both of them were scowling with disapproval, disdain shimmering in their dark brown irises.
“Uh, y-yeah? What…what are you doing here? Is it about the house?”
He squinted a moment but then returned to his typical scowl. “No, but it should be. We have a two hundred thousand dollar bill sitting at home because of you.”
Because of me. Blame. No concerns of my wellbeing, no questions to my injuries. Acrimony. As always.
“Then wachoo want?”
“May we come in a talk?”
I looked over my shoulder, my sight focusing between the thin lines of clear glass etched into the frosted design. Tyler was hovering at the backdoor, watching, waiting if needed. A smile tugged the corner of my mouth, and the last resistance fell away. Yeah, I liked the bitch.
A sudden burst of determination hitting, I turned around and faced them, crossing my arms. “No, you can’t. What do you want?”
They exchanged glances, clearly unhappy with my response. His nostrils flaring with a deep inhale, his eyelids squinted, his upper lip twitching.
“We’ve heard a rumor or two and thought it was time we come and check on things.”
“A rumor. Or two. What the fuck do you care?” As usual, when I spoke to them, my old persona clicked into place, the prim and proper side of my refined education they paid hundreds of thousands of dollars for.
“You haven’t given me a second’s thought since you tossed me out because I could no longer bring you home trophies.
My importance to you disappeared the day I got hurt.
I am superfluous, remember? What does it matter what you’ve heard and who are you hearing it from?
Who in my life do you know to discuss my inconsequential existence? ”
Her shoulders squaring, she lifted her chin and arched a brow, looking down her nose at me. “We’ve always kept tabs on you.”
Rage twisted my stomach and I sneered. “Kept tabs on me. On your son.”
“We had to make sure you did not do anything to mar our reputation.”
I damn near snorted with derision. “You mean, embarrass you.”
“Yes,” he snipped, a muscle in his jaw flexing. “And, frankly, we are more than humiliated with your current chain of poor choices.”
“And what choices would those be?”
“We heard about your troubles on television,” she muttered, tilting her head to smooth her hair behind a heavily jeweled ear.
Again, I snorted. They heard about it on television.
They get a phone call from police, telling them their son had been attacked and shot up in their home, and they never once called to even ask what happened.
They got their information from the news, just like thousands of strangers who could care less what happened to me or mine.
“So, you did hear about a man hunting me down and trying to murder me. Interesting. I assumed, since I didn’t hear from you while I was in the hospital, fighting for my life, you didn’t know.
Nice to learn you did, you just did not care enough to contact me.
Parents of the year,” I mocked with an overly exaggerated, toothy grin while holding up both thumbs.
He grew more agitated, his complexion darkening further. “We were unable to reach out at the moment.”
My sight scanning over them both, I chortled and shook my head. “Nice fall tans. Just get back from Italy? Yeah, I can see where your attentiveness was engrossed elsewhere.”
“Don’t you dare judge us—”
“Why?” I chortled, shrugging my arms out.
“That seems to be all you’ve done to me since the day I became disposable to your needs.
” My arms sliding back together, my fingers tapping my sides, I jutted my chin and sneered.
“Now tell me why you’ve encroached yourself on my personal life unsolicited and unwelcomed after all these years. ”
A second time, they shared a quick glance. He coughed and straightened his stance, clasping his wrist in front. “It has come to our attention that you have recently become a widower and are already considering marriage.”
Bit by bit, everything inside went cold as horror washed through my system. A knot clogging my throat, my arms fell to my sides. Oh…shit.
“Honestly, Dario,” she whispered, humiliation burning her cheeks bright red. “Of all the things you could do to bring shame on our name, this?” she spat with a wave of her hand. “Simply appalling.”
Rage struck a chord in my gut and I bristled, my teeth grinding. Heaving, I was absolutely seething, shedding my genteel upbringing. “What the fuck is so awful?”
“A man,” he shot, his upper lip curling again. “That is abhorrent—”
“Man, get the fuck outta here with that shit. You don’t fucking matter, I don’t fucking matter. What does it have to do with your perfect little life out in Florida what I fuck out here in the backwoods of Alabama?”
She gasped but he grew more incensed. “People are talking, Dario—”
“Who?” I shouted, shrugging my arms out. “Ain’t no one in Florida got nothing to do with me.”
“Listen to how you’re speaking, we raised you better than this.”
“No, the fuck, you didn’t. You didn’t raise me at all. Hotchkiss raised me and you showed me off like a fucking trophy. Now get the fuck outta here and don’t come back.”
“You listen to me, Dario Pietro Mangiacavallo,” he barked, wagging a finger. A thin layer of perspiration on his face, the vein in his temple was spidering out, foam building in the corners of his mouth. “You will stop this travesty of a marriage now.”
“The fuck I will, old man.”