Disastrous: Cautious Part 2

He was serious. I looked over at Megan for a better explanation, but she simply shook her head and raised her hands in defeat.

"I took her straight home afterwards." He reached for more popcorn and straightened into the chair.

"You're a d.i.c.k." I shot out.

"Yeah, well, I get that a lot."

"I feel sorry for the woman that marries you. Seriously, it'll be like marrying a thirty-year-old toddler with no manners whatsoever."

He c.o.c.ked a brow with a curt nod. "You, know I get that too."

"Shut up!" I nudged his shoulder.

"Can we please watch Dirty Dancing now?" Megan spat out.

Jeremy tilted his head to the side. "Yes, please, let's watch Patrick Swayze save Baby from the corner." Megan rolled her eyes, grabbed the remote, and hit play. Within the next few hours, we watched several old movies, ordered in pizza, and laughed at Jeremy's goofy ways. At first, I wanted to mention that Marcus and I got back together, but instead, I decided to save it. That evening, I was going to enjoy a night with my friends.

The evening pa.s.sed by quickly, and before I knew it, Jeremy stood and stretched. "I'm going to hit the bed. Megan, you joining me?"

She widened her eyes and looked at me as her cheeks turned a light shade of red in embarra.s.sment. "Jeremy."

"What? Mia's fine. She won't think anything of it." Megan shook her head and slumped back in the seat. Jeremy reached down, grabbed her wrist, and lifted her to her feet. He wrapped his arm around her shoulder and pulled her into his side. "Megan, don't be shy around Mia. You slept in my bed last night."

Megan glared at me and quickly added, "Not in the way that you think, Mia."

I raised my hands. "Hey, no judgment here." I could tell she was completely horrified by Jeremy's public display of affection.

Before she could respond, my phone rang. I glanced at the screen, and my entire face lit up when I saw it was Marcus. "h.e.l.lo." I answered with a huge grin.

"Hey, just wanted to call and check up on you."

"Oh really?"

"Yes, and to also ask what your plans are for tomorrow." I pressed my lips together to hold back the slight squeal that was trying to escape. I excused myself from Jeremy and Megan and ran into my bedroom.

As I flopped back on my bed and stared at the ceiling, I listened to his steady breathing on the other end of the phone. "I'm not sure yet, why?"

"Well, if you're not busy, I would love to take you out on a date."

My stomach fluttered with nerves. I wasn't sure why it did, although it felt nice. "What kind of date?"

I could hear him s.h.i.+fting as he chuckled in a low raspy tone. "That's for me to know and for you to find out."

"So we're playing that game?"

His vibrant laugh forced an even wider grin across my face. I wasn't sure that was even possible. "No, baby, you're playing that game. I'm just simply here as an unwilling partic.i.p.ant."

"Hey play nice, remember?"

"Right . . . so tomorrow?"

"Yes, I'm free."

"Good, be ready by noon."

"By noon? That's early."

"You're lucky I didn't say early morning, but I'm playing nice."

I laughed and caved in. "Okay . . . what are you doing now?"

Hesitating, he took a deep breath. "I'm in the car waiting for Jimmie. We were called in for a meeting."

I took a quick glance at the time. It was almost ten. "Oh." I whispered. It wasn't a surprise to me that he was out at a meeting that late. Although I had I accepted him with all of his flaws, this was one I wanted so desperately to take away. I hated his lifestyle, but I loved him.

CHAPTER THREE.

MARCUS.

Mia's tone was filled with disappointment. I wanted to shake off the silence between us through the phone. Not wanting to end our call on a bad note, I blurted, "Hey, the next two weeks will be fun, taking my girl out on the best dates she's ever had."

"Ha! I'll be the judge of that." She giggled, and even though I couldn't see her, I knew she was smiling on the other end of the phone. Jimmie stepped into the car and eyed me suspiciously. He wasn't used to me smiling like a f.u.c.king kid.

"Babe, I have to go. I'll call you later?"

"Sure, well, maybe tomorrow. I'm pretty tired and might call it a night. Is that okay?"

"Yeah, that's fine. I love you, Mia."

There was a slight sigh before she replied, "I love you too . . . and Marcus?"

"Yeah."

"Please be careful." After I told her I would, we ended our call.

As I drove off, I let Jimmie in on everything that was going on between Mia and me, even told him about the bet I lost. He burst out laughing and thought Mia was pretty d.a.m.ned clever. He laughed harder when I punched his bicep for thinking it was funny to begin with. Jimmie seemed happy that Mia and I were working it out. In the beginning, when Jimmie found out that Mia was related to Michael Sullivan, he wanted me to end things immediately. He felt it would backfire, not just on me, but on everything we had been working so hard for so long to do-bring down Lou Sorrento.

I was f.u.c.king hardheaded and couldn't simply walk away. Deep down, I knew she deserved better. You could call me a selfish man, I guess. I couldn't see her with anyone else. She was meant for me in so many ways. Since she came into my life, everything had changed; I learned to laugh again, to smile, to break down, and be the person I was before my father's death. I didn't think that was even possible. I learned to live again, and I could not walk away from that.

I had this feeling deep down that I couldn't live without her. When you finally find a person who makes you feel alive, how could you possibly breathe if she were gone? I knew I couldn't.

Jimmie s.h.i.+fted in his seat, and my attention was brought back to him. He cleared his throat before speaking. "I need to find a new babysitter fast."

"What happened to that Melissa chick?"

"She starts college in a couple of weeks. It's hard to find anyone you can actually trust." He bounced his right knee and began chewing on his thumbnail, as he usually did he was stressed or worried about things that involved Elle.

"Don't worry, man, we'll find someone. And you have me and Mom until then. You'll be fine."

He nodded and changed the subject. "So what do you think this meeting's about?"

Thoughts of my earlier encounter with Lou brought forth several conclusions. "He's p.i.s.sed about the last warehouse that was raided by the FBI. He knows there's a rat in the group and demanded that I find out who it is within the next week, and that if I don't, he'll do it his f.u.c.kin' self." At a red light, I took a glance at Jimmie who was staring straight ahead, lost in thought.

After a few seconds, he tightened his jaw and nodded. "f.u.c.k. I can't think of who the f.u.c.kin' rat could be. Everyone in the group is just too f.u.c.kin' loyal to Lou, you know?" He took in a deep breath and then scratched his head. "Michael wasn't working with the FBI. It was just the three of us trying to build a case before we brought the evidence to any agents."

"Well, maybe before he died, he gave some info to an agent that he trusted."

Jimmie shook his head. "Maybe, but Michael and I met up the night before his death. He told me that there were no updates. He said that we were getting close and that he might have some leads, but didn't say anything about any FBI agents. It just doesn't make any f.u.c.kin' sense."

Jimmie was right. None of that s.h.i.+t made any f.u.c.king sense, so I began to go through the list of Lou's people in my head. "Well, hands down, I know Vinnie and Larry are not involved. What about Buddy?"

"Buddy's a douchebag, but a rat? Nah, he's beyond loyal to Lou. If Lou told him to suck his c.o.c.k, he'd ask for how long."

I let out a deep, frustrated breath. Yeah, that was definitely true. Buddy had worked for Lou since he was a kid. He had nothing but the utmost respect for Lou and looked up to him like a father. Trying to find out who was the rat was going to be more difficult than I'd antic.i.p.ated. f.u.c.k. Lou was not going to let it go.

For the rest of the ride, Jimmie and I drove quietly. I was sure Jimmie was trying to figure s.h.i.+t out in his head just as much as I was.

As I pulled into the back of Club21's private parking lot, I slowed down when I saw a crowd that had formed a circle in the middle of the lot. Jimmie and I quickly exchanged confused glances. I parked the car as we both hopped out and jogged towards the commotion.

Men chanted and yelled, raising beer gla.s.ses in the air, hooting and hollering from the top of their lungs, "Get 'em. Beat his a.s.s. That's right-blood-I want to see f.u.c.kin' blood!" Hurriedly, I snaked my way through the crowd and was finally in the center of it all. One guy I didn't recognize was covered in blood with a swollen eye and busted lip. His s.h.i.+rt was torn, and he wobbled from side-to-side sluggishly. He brought his fist up to his face in an attempt to block oncoming punches.

Larry, one of our men in charge of the club when I'm not around, was standing in the center of the circle. He seemed to be sober, bouncing back and forth on his toes, fist secured at eye level, positioned and ready for another swing. Larry knew f.u.c.king better than to start a riot. Anger building within me forced my legs toward them. When I got deeper into the center, I could hear that all of the shouting and yelling had died down. Once I was behind him, I yanked Larry by the shoulder and pulled him away from the other guy. Larry's eyes flamed when he saw that I got in the middle of it all. "What the f.u.c.k, Marky? He deserves it!" He pointed at the drunken man, who was mumbling something unintelligible.

"Not here, Larry!" I pointed a finger toward the back of the club. Hovering over him, I pointed that same finger into his chest. "You f.u.c.kin' know better! Not at my club. Get your a.s.s inside and clean up." I heard the sound of shoes scattering along the concrete surface as employees and customers rushed away and back into the club. Looking around, I spotted Vinnie, my number one main man. Nodding at him, I yelled, "Take care of this loser." I nudged over at the drunken man and made my way into the club.

The hallway was clear by the time I entered. Everyone must've rushed back in. Instead of going toward the dance floor, I walked through a private door in the back hallway that led up a staircase toward the second level. Once I entered the second level hallway, I rushed and pushed through the crowds of people wandering around. Finally, I made my way into our VIP room at the end of the hall. When I entered, all eyes were on me: Jimmie was seated at the end of the white sectional, Buddy was leaning against the gla.s.s wall that overlooked the dance floor, and Larry hovered over the sink was.h.i.+ng his b.l.o.o.d.y hands.

Snapping the door shut, I shoved off my jacket and threw it over a chair. "What the f.u.c.k was all that about, Lar?"

Wrapping a towel around his hands, he shook his head and took a seat by the table. "I got a page from the blond bartender about a drunk acting rowdy. I went to check it out, and the guy was giving me a problem, so I roughed him up a little bit and kicked him the f.u.c.k out. When I did, he took a swing at me, so . . . you know how I get." He shrugged.

"No, you know f.u.c.kin' better. I don't want police around here. You should have taken him out, closed the f.u.c.kin' door, and left it at that. Not only were employees out there but so were customers! I want this to be a f.u.c.kin' clean club, Larry. You got that?"

c.o.c.king his lips aside, he nodded, "Yeah, I got that."

"Good."

It was going to be a long f.u.c.king night.

We all hung around in the VIP room, waiting for Lou to arrive. No one had said a word for the past forty minutes as we all sat there silently wondering why the meeting was called. Lou never asked to meet with all of us at once, unless it was something of the utmost importance. I grabbed myself a second drink and realized that the ice machine was broken. After making a phone call to one of the maintenance men, I downed the warmth of the smooth whisky in one shot. I knew that I should have stopped drinking, but it too was difficult. Liquor was my solace, my time away from all the bulls.h.i.+t, my only escape until I met Mia, but Mia wasn't there at that moment, and I needed something to ease my mind from the h.e.l.l-hole issue I called Lou.

Jimmie glanced my way and raised a brow. I knew he hated it when I drank, but the waiting game was beginning to bore me, and, even though I shouldn't have done it, I poured myself another drink. That's when Lou walked in with his nephew, Giovanni Sorrento. I hadn't seen Gio in years. Last I'd heard of him, he was involved in a bad deal and skipped town. Now he was suddenly back from out of the blue . . . which only meant Lou was up to no good.

Lou made his rounds of acknowledgments, while Gio made his way towards me. He looked exactly the same, a younger version of Lou: dark hair, olive skin, and the same c.o.c.kiness about his persona. Since Lou never had children of his own, he always took care of his nephew like a son. Anyone that f.u.c.ked with Gio was taken care of, no questions asked.

He reached his hand out to me with a grin. "Marky, hey how you been?" I took his hand, and he pulled me in for a quick hug.

"I'm good. How 'bout you? You back for good or just visiting?"

"Oh, you know, visiting, but it may be permanent." He laughed. "So I hear you're settling down now. When will I be able to meet this woman of yours?"

Buddy walked up beside us and shook Gio's hand. Then he faced me with a wisea.s.s grin. "He keeps her hidden. I haven't met her yet, and it's more like p.u.s.s.y whipped than settled down."

Arching a brow at Buddy, I stepped into him. "Shut the f.u.c.k up, Buddy! And you'll never get to meet her, anyways."

Buddy's expression grew c.o.c.ky. "What's wrong, Marky? Are you afraid the minute she sets her eyes on me she'll want to suck my c.o.c.k instead of yours?" He winked.

Every f.u.c.king thing around me turned red. The sound of others chatting went dead. My chest stilled as my fist clenched. My face burned as I held my breath, afraid that once I blew out air I would attack. It didn't work. One minute, I was standing in front of Buddy. The next minute, I had gripped him by the neck and had begun pounding his face against the wooden table. I felt someone trying to pull me away, but I continued to smash his face along the surface, grunting with each impact as blood splattered.

Finally, I was pulled back and pinned down by Jimmie and Vinnie. "Let me the f.u.c.k go, now!" I yelled, wrestling to be free.

Buddy lifted his head from the table as blood gushed out of his nose. He cupped his face with his hands. "What the f.u.c.k, Marky! I was joking around with you."

"Yeah? Well that'll f.u.c.kin' teach you that I don't take jokes very f.u.c.kin' lightly."

Everyone immediately turned their heads in the direction of the door that just opened. The maintenance man stood by the doorway with seven angry guys glaring at him. "Ah, um, I got a call that something's broken?" His voice was shaky.

"Yeah, his f.u.c.kin' nose!" I huffed out, pointing my head at Buddy.

Gio shook his head and stared me up and down laughing. "Well, I can see your temper hasn't changed." His laughter went louder when Buddy glared at him. "Well, Buddy, Marky may be p.u.s.s.y-whipped, but he ain't no p.u.s.s.y. Lesson learned." Gio patted Buddy's shoulder.

"f.u.c.k off." Angrily, Buddy shoved away and stormed out of the room.

Still pinned to the floor, my body jerked. "Let me go!" After a moment, both Jimmie and Vinnie hesitantly loosened their grip. Jumping up, I straightened my s.h.i.+rt. "What?" I asked, responding to Jimmie's dubious expression.

Raising his hands, he shook his head. "Nothing little bro, it's your show."

"f.u.c.k off, Jimmie."

"Marky, go clean your f.u.c.kin' face. You have blood all over it, and let's get this f.u.c.kin' meeting over with, eh?" Lou's raspy tone pierced through my growing anger. I stared at Lou for a few harsh seconds before sniffing and heading toward the sink.

After a few minutes, we surrounded the sectional area. I stood and leaned against the gla.s.s wall as everyone sat. "Okay, as you all can see, I brought my nephew Gio back for a reason. He's going to be working on figuring out who the rat is. Marky, don't worry about it. Just keep doing what you do for me, and Gio will take care of the rat." I nodded at Lou in response. "As far as the pigs sniffing the warehouses, we have to move to a different location. Marky, we're doing it here."

"No." I blurted. "We're not doing exchanges here. I refuse. You should know better than to ask that."

"Did I f.u.c.kin' ask?" Lou spat with a tightened jaw. Gio put his hand on Lou's shoulder.

"We don't have a choice, Marky." Gio chimed in. "Unless you have a better suggestion?"

"Pick another f.u.c.kin' warehouse, somewhere out of the city, or even a storage unit."