“I have.”
We sit and talk about Pollie’s music. She plays with a band and is always traveling to New York for Broadway musicals. She says she’s getting tired of it, she wants something more solid, something grounded and closer to home.
Just as I get up to leave, Maso appears behind her, he glimpses down at me and then to Pollie. I know she feels his presence straight away, her back goes straight and she sits up higher.
“Sister,” he says in a chipper voice like he’s caught me down the rabbit hole.
“I’m just about to leave, walk me out,” I say standing, throwing my phone back into my purse. He ignores me and sits down right next to Pollie. He looks at her, really looks at her up and down and then he smirks.
“Who’s your friend?”
Pollie’s eyebrows scrunch behind her glasses, and I know straight away she doesn’t like him.
“Pollie,” she answers turning to him and holding her hand out for Maso to shake it. He takes it and kisses her hand, lingering too long and she starts to pull away feeling uncomfortable.
“I’ve never met any of Elina’s friends. She’s always kept them away from me since high school,” he teases leaning into her. I watch as she fidgets in her chair, trying to pull away from him.
“There’s a reason for that, Maso. You fucked them all then threw them away like the trash,” I say. I love my brother, more so than I love my own father. That doesn’t mean I want him around anyone I consider my friend. He thinks with his dick, that is when he isn’t thinking through anger.
“I’ve changed,” he says laughing.
Pollie grabs her walking cane and her case containing her violin and stands. I walk around to her and lean in for a kiss, whispering so softly that only she can hear. Her hearing is the best, I can whisper something to her, and even if there is noise all around us, she will still hear me.
“I’m sorry, I think you should go now. I’ll call you later.”
She nods her head and turns to walk out. My brother tries to stand and I block his path.
“Why do you hide them?” he asks sitting back down and picking up a bagel that I didn’t finish. He starts eating then takes a sip of my drink.
“Are you joking? You talk like I have a whole squad of friends I keep hidden.” I shake my head at him. The things that leave his mouth sometimes make me wonder if he is all there.
“You don’t?” he says. “Damn, my last one didn’t quite cut it for me. But that one…” he says glimpsing over his shoulder and pointing to where Pollie just left, “…was mighty fine,” he says nodding his head.
Pollie is beautiful, her hair is a natural strawberry color, her skin has light freckles that brush over her nose. Her figure is petite, yet fit. I can see why he’d be attracted to her. Hell, if I swung that way I would even try. Pity I like my men fucked up. Stupid me.
“I’m leaving, don’t tell father.”
He drops his mouth open and stares at me. “What? Why? Don’t tell me that shit until you’re going, woman.” He shakes his head. “Where are you going to go?”
“Just away from
him
.”
“Away from who? Our father, or
him?
”
He can’t even say his name, he just says
him
like it leaves a bad taste in his mouth.
“Father.”
“So you still want him? Even after everything?”
“You can’t just turn shit off like that, Maso. Two years is a long time to just ‘forget.’” I use air quotes around the word forget.
“He fucking hurt you, Elina. What’s so hard about that to get through your head?”
“I hurt him, too. Not in the same physical way, but I still hurt him. And I don’t excuse what he did, but we aren’t normal. Fuck, our families are the furthest from normal there is. What he did, that was his normal for my betrayal. And you know what? He couldn’t even finish his threat, and we all know that’s not him. If he says he will kill someone, you know as much as I do that he carries out that action. He isn’t a good man. Hell, I want to cut him ten times worse than what he did to me. But what is our normal? It definitely isn’t the kind of normal, average people have.” I would never condone abuse, I was brought up surrounded by it. I know it well, I’ve lived it. Even my father used to beat me when I didn’t listen. Kazier didn’t abuse me, that was just his normal. And I knew the moment I stepped into his den, that what I would receive from him from that day forward was only going to be one type of normal, and that was all his. Though he didn’t prove to be the darkest devil that I thought he was, I was expecting much worse—way, way worse.
Ch
apter 27
Kazier
When you get news of a meeting with the Bartalotti’s, there are two things that cross your mind. One, it may be a set-up, and two, I wonder if tonight I can kill them all. The second is running through my mind right now as we stand in front of my father’s house waiting for him to greet us so we can leave.
We plan to meet on neutral ground in one of their restaurants that’s situated right near one of ours. I don’t want any more meetings at their house where they have the manpower over us. That won’t happen again.
My father emerges and I see that he’s carrying. No one would recognize that he is, except those that know him. Ever since he’s been in the political arena, he has chosen not to carry. But tonight, he’s expecting the unexpected and I see it straight away. My eyes hone in on it, his eyes follow me because he knows I know.
He hasn’t asked me about Elina nor about Freya. He knows where I stand with Freya, I won’t marry her. He also knows he can’t instruct me to do something I don’t want. I haven’t seen him since the day I told him otherwise. I climb into the driver seat, my father climbing in next to me. Anton, Viktor and Death in the car behind us. The drive is quiet on the way there, but when we stop, I know he’s itching to say something.
“Don’t kill anyone,” he instructs as he jerks on the handle of the car door. He doesn’t wait for us as he walks straight up to the front of the restaurant and pulls the door open. As soon as the others leave the car, I wait for them to join me before I follow him in. When we enter most lights are off, the staff aren’t here. It’s just the Bartalotti family sitting at a long table, all three of them with a few hired help around them all carrying.
My father takes the seat opposite them, and I do the same with our men standing behind us. Maso doesn’t look at me when I take a seat. Actually, he hardly stares at anyone but the table. Bartollo is the one staring, at me in particular, and if his stare could kill I’d be dead. Pity he doesn’t have those powers. I try to look closer at them, to see if I can make out how Elina is even closely related. I know she is, it’s just hard to believe. The dark hair is the only indicator to me, as far as I can tell. And possibly the attitude.
“Elina,” Bartollo says, focusing on me when he speaks her name. I feel my hands clenching, my face tightening. He can’t have her back, it won’t happen. Never. “I see your reaction to her. Is it possible that you do love her?” He’s smirking as he talks, and all eyes turn to me, even my father’s.
Should I lie? Or should I tell him the truth?
“What does this matter?”
He smirks again like he’s gotten his answer. Hell, maybe he did get something from those four words.
“You can’t have her! You do realize this?”
I think he’s trying to provoke me, but what he doesn’t understand is that I don’t take orders from him.
“And you are who… to tell me so?” A throaty laugh leaves my throat, it’s dry and fake, and he knows it. “You think you…” I say pointing my finger at him, “…can tell me…” I ask pointing to myself, “…what I can and can’t have? Tell me you’re joking?” I drop both hands on the table and lean in closer. “Because if I remember correctly, you don’t run this town, I do.” My lip twitches and his face reddens in anger. Just as I’m about to open my mouth, I hear a gasp, and when I turn, all my men have a gun to their heads and my father has a gun to his head. I reach for my phone under the table in my pocket.
Bartollo smiles at me like he has everything under his control. “You see, Kazier, you’ve made many enemies. Those enemies would pay good money to have you taken care of. You, and your wretched family,” he says looking around at my family, pinning my father with a steely stare.
“You think it will be that easy to kill me?”
He nods his head.
I press a button on my phone and place it back in my pocket. With my hands still under the table, I reach for my gun, pulling it out once I have my phone in my pocket. “You do know I have one on you now, right? My father has his on your son? So before you even think of touching someone, killing someone, make sure you know who you’re dealing with.” I smirk at him. He doesn’t believe the words that left my mouth, he gazes to my hands that are hidden, then to my father’s, then he gleams.
“But that’s the thing, I do.” He clicks his fingers and the front door opens.
When I turn to see who’s there, I’m pushing my chair back, my gun still aimed at Bartollo.
Elina gasps, Stephon has a hold of her by her neck. She looks at me and then to her father, I notice Maso move to stand to my side. That surprises me. Maybe he does care for her? Maybe it’s just the father that doesn’t.
“You see, she was never yours. She was paid, contracted by Stephon and me to make you love her. She did well wouldn’t you say?”
I keep my eyes on her. The hand firm around her neck is the first thing I plan to shoot. Her eyes go wide when her father blurts out that news. She looks to me, then to him.
“Stephon saw the way you looked at her. It was just a matter of paying her right to do it. She is now your weakness. Didn’t think we knew that did you?”
“You have five seconds to remove your hand.” I ignore Bartollo.
Stephon’s hand squeezes tighter. She tries to claw at him, but he doesn’t move or seem affected by it one little bit.
I hear Bartollo laugh.
“One…” I say to start the count.
“Two…”
“Three…”
“Elina, back pocket.” I turn to Maso then quickly back to Elina. I watch in fascination at what she does next. One hand leaves the arm that’s holding her, it sneaks around between them, into her pocket moving so fast that no one has time to react to what she’s about to do. The knife comes up quickly, and she jams it straight into Stephon’s hand, making him scream and release her.
It doesn’t take me a second to reach over and grab her. She falls into my chest, her breathing hard. Then just as I’m about to pick her up and carry her out a shot is fired, missing Elina and me by inches. Then I hear a clunk, and when I turn, Maso is on the floor in front of us.
How did he get there so fast?
And why is he on the floor.
Just as I’m about to speak the door bursts open and five of my men charge in with loaded guns pointed straight at Bartollo. I watch in fascination as Death is the first to kill someone. The man that has a gun to his head is now trying to hold his stomach together. Death has split him in half, with a very sharp fucking knife. Viktor is next, Anton stands there smiling like he doesn’t have a care in the world.
“You fucking idiot,” Bartollo screams as he stands chastizing Stephon. Stephon shakes his head, then looks to me and then back to Maso on the ground. I don’t even know if he’s breathing.
“He jumped in the fucking way,” he says.
Maso takes a deep breath, Elina lets go of me and drops to the floor next to her brother. Her father rushes over, and when he bends down, I place a gun to his head. He stiffens automatically.
“You think you can beat me now?”
He doesn’t say a word, he knows he can’t win.
“You ever look at her, touch her in any way again, it won’t be just you I kill. I’ll kill everyone close to you, and I’ll make you watch.”
Elina whispers something into her brother’s ear, she smiles when she knows he’s breathing and he can hear her. She stands and grabs hold of my hand. When I look to Stephon, he’s gone—
the chicken shit.
Death, Viktor, and Anton all have the men that had a gun to their heads, dead on the floor. Anton is kicking his with his foot. Maybe to make sure he’s still dead? Who the fuck knows.
When I turn to my father, his eyes are on me, and the person attached to me. He isn’t happy. Just as he’s about to speak, a loud ringing noise goes off, like someone just blew something up. Smoke starts to fill the restaurant, and without thinking twice I grab Elina by the legs and throw her over my shoulder. She yelps when I run with her out to the car, then she screams at me when I shut the door and lock her in to get to her brother. I look back, unsure if it’s something I want to do. As the boys walks out, with my father close behind them, I tap Viktor’s shoulder and he follows me back inside.
Bartollo is on the ground trying to pick his son up, he can’t, he’s huge, the same as Viktor. Viktor leans down at the same time as I do and we grab an arm each pulling him out and then throwing him inside the car. My father stands there and watches us, his mouth falling open, nostrils flaring, the anger taking over his face.
“You chose them?” He spits to the ground.
I shake my head, because really, there’s no way to answer that question. I don’t choose them, I chose
her
. Major difference.