Chapter Twenty-Three #2
I shake my head. Nothing about me was soft.
And I don’t mean that in a self-aggrandizing way.
It’s meant in a self-deprecating way. I had to learn to be soft.
Hardness was ingrained in me. Being tough, violent, aggressive.
It was second nature to me two years ago.
I had to unlearn that. Alfie taught me how to do it.
Olivia showed me why I wanted to in the first place.
Soft is used as such an insult, yet all I dream about now is having a soft life.
A soft bed. A soft pillow. A soft dream.
My hands on Olivia’s soft, perfect skin as she curls into me.
“Surprised?” my father continues. “I know what’s good for you. If it weren’t for me, you’d be miserable.”
What the fuck is he talking about? I was fucking miserable working for him.
But now I’m not. Well, with the exception of the clusterfuck that was this last week or so.
I’ve never been happier. Despite his intention, he is right.
If he hadn’t made me an enforcer, I never would have run from that job, I never would have reconnected with Alfie, I never would have hid in Squeeze the Day, I never would have met Olivia, she never would have kidnapped me.
The fucked thing is that he’s one hundred percent right.
He’s got the right answer despite doing the wrong calculation. Fuck, that’s so annoying.
But do I care? Not really.
“You’re right, Dad. You made me who I am. And luckily, I’ve unlearned a lot of what you taught me. I’ve met someone who loves me and expects nothing from me. Without you, I never would have met her. So thank you. For the one thing you did right. But this ends now.”
“You’re damn right it ends now,” he spits. “Kill him.” He holds my eyes, and I accept that this is happening. My father has ordered my death, and it’s the calmest he’s looked all night. I hold his gaze as everyone else shifts uncomfortably.
The electric current hums in the air as the crackle of the lights overhead interrupts like a circuit breaker. I can almost hear the waves lap against the concrete. I wonder if he’ll throw my body into the port or move me elsewhere.
“Are you deaf? KILL HIM.”
The goons stare at each other, wondering who should make the move. My brother steps forward, understanding that he is the one being addressed.
But our father holds out an arm against his chest. August looks to him in confusion, back to me, and then I hear the click of the safety. Even my brother has the decency to gasp.
“I’m sorry, Austin,” Luca speaks steadily.
I close my eyes and will myself to wake up from this nightmare.
Surely not Luca? Luca whom I’ve known since we were kids.
Luca, who broke a guy's nose during my first fight.
He's had my back my entire life. I've had his.
He left this life with me. We built something together to be proud of.
“Luca, what the fuck are you doing?” I try to remain calm, but the hurt I feel is overwhelming. This guy is more of a brother to me than my actual fucking brother. And even he looks disgusted at this betrayal right now.
Luca moves so he’s standing in front of me, by my father’s side.
“You weren’t coming back, Austin. And I had to do what I had to, to get my old life back.”
“I SAVED YOU FROM THIS LIFE!” I bellow.
Fuck Dr. Alfie for opening up my emotions because now I can’t fucking control them at all.
The hurt of this betrayal has cut me deeper than any wound ever has.
I have scars all over my body, knife fights, surgeries, and fist fights that led to split knuckles, split lips, and split eyebrows.
There’s no part of my body that hasn’t suffered from my previous life.
And while there’s no physical violence in the life I built, you pay the price with your emotions.
You learn to care; you learn to love, to trust, to feel something other than shit.
So when the ultimate betrayal happens, you’re left reeling.
“I NEVER ASKED YOU TO FUCKING SAVE ME!” he screams right back.
He’s holding the gun to my face. The gun I fucking bought him as a gift.
The intricate pattern on the side emulates a gun he saw in a Leonardo di Caprio movie.
It is Catholicism incarnate, and he’s always loved the dichotomy of using something so violent in the name of God.
Luca’s like that—he leans into two halves. I’m learning just how much.
“You never said you were unhappy.”
“You’ve gone soft, Austin. Do you know how fucking pathetic you’ve been? Running around with that slut who dropped to her knees the second you gave her attention.”
“Don’t you fucking talk about her like that,” I hiss, leaning my forehead into his gun. His lips part in horror. My brother steps forward, and my father sneers.
Silence descends on the docks until the only thing I can hear is the gentle lapping of waves against the concrete. Even the seagulls have the decency to shut up.
“Finish him, and I’ll know you’re ready,” my father interrupts.
My brother snaps his head to face our father.
It looks like I’m not the only one who was betrayed tonight.
I give him a small consolation smile as he turns back to me, shaking his head.
His anguished face tells me everything I need to know.
He didn’t know I was going to die tonight.
He didn’t know Luca would betray me, and he had no idea our father had made a deal to let Luca take over.
Luca’s hand shakes. I can see the sweat forming on his upper lip. Our last conversation is running through his head. I’m not coming back, and I won’t fucking lie now to save myself. Maybe that’s stupid. Maybe it’s naive. But I won’t beg.
I inhale deeply through my nose and close my eyes.
The salt air mixes in with diesel and honest-to-god fish guts but I push the stench out of my mind.
If I’m going to die, the last thing I see is going to be Olivia laughing maniacally in a field because I’ve launched a Ghostface mask over my shoulder and tackled her to the ground.
I’m going to pepper her face with kisses as she smiles with her whole face.
I breathe in again, and I can almost smell her citrus shampoo.
I can smell the wildflowers in the field that we ran through. That moment is perfect; she is perfect.
An ear-splitting shot rings out. A flash of white hits my eyes, and then...nothing.
Well . . . not nothing.
I assume I am dead for about five seconds when I don't feel my body hit the ground, but then I realize the yelling, multiple shots, and someone getting tackled aren’t the sounds of hell. I am still alive.
Either Luca is still a terrible fucking shot, or he wasn’t the one to pull the trigger.
I open my eyes, chaos ensuing.
“Don’t just stand there, you absolute fucking idiot!” my brother screams at me as he tackles me out of the line of fire. Despite his stocky build and the strength he pummels through my abdomen as he saves me from a flying bullet, I manage to stay on my feet.
Snaps of lights flash across my eyes, disorientating me. The ring in my ear pulses like it’s trying to push through me, my head practically vibrating with it. I open my jaw, push my finger in my ear, and try to wiggle. Fuck, I must have burst my ear drum.
I force myself back to the present. The two goons standing beside my father have their hands up straight above their heads, and I roll my eyes.
They’re both shaking, and the one on the left has pissed himself.
I've promised myself after the intervention Dr. Alfie gave me that I won't kill again.
Fucking hell. The one on the right is crying.
Throwing my hands up in exasperation, I yell, “Run away, you morons!”
I shoo them away, and now it’s my brother’s turn to throw his hands up.
“I promised my therapist I wouldn’t kill anymore.” I shrug.
“Life-threatening situations might be exempt from that rule, Austin.” The deep tones of Alfie fucking Adams ring through my one good ear.
“What the fuck are you doing here?”
“Well, you missed our last two sessions, so I was slightly concerned. I also had a feeling you were going to be ambushed.”
“So, you came to a gunfight? Jesus, Alf, we’re outnumbered by a fucking lot here. I don’t know if I can protect you.”
“Is this your boyfriend?” my brother asks. “I thought you were with a woman?”
I’m hoping the ringing in my ear stops soon and just takes my ability to hear away, so I don’t have to hear stupid fucking comments like that. He knows full well who Olivia is.
“Augustus, this is Dr. Alfie Adams. He’s my therapist.”
My brother eyes him up and down. “Got any good drugs?”
“I’m a psychologist, not a psychiatrist, Augustus.” It’s nice to hear his exasperated tone on someone other than me for a change.
My brother ducks and pulls Alfie down with him as an unknown man rounds the corner and starts shooting.
He’s squatted low, and before I can move, he grabs my ankle and yanks me down on the concrete just as another shot rings past my ear.
I land almost on top of him, and despite sounding a little winded, Augustus is okay.
“Jesus, you’re like a fucking concrete slab. Get off me.” He shoves me hard in the chest.
I waggle my eyebrows. “I’ve been working out.”
“Gross.” He succeeds this time in rolling me away.
“Get your mind out of the gutter, Augustus. I have a personal trainer for a girlfriend.”
“Ex-girlfriend,” Alfie notes neutrally. If my eyes could shoot daggers, I fucking would. He’s lucky I was stupid enough not to bring a weapon.
“She dumped you?” my brother asks, his face looking genuinely concerned.
Wow, are we having a breakthrough? Color me shocked.
He shuffles back against a shipping container that provides us some shelter from the repeated clunk and clang of bullets hitting metal.