Page 3 of Loyalties & Longings

A thought crosses my mind while sitting at our rustic, wooden table eating breakfast.Why do we have such a huge table?After all, it’s only Dad and me.

I am more than okay with this and have literally worked so damn hard to make it that way. I mean, I’d love for him to find someone, see him settle down again, and be happy. But I also understand that in his line of work, it’s nearly impossible to find someone to trust and who is loyal. I have been close with Dad ever since Mom died. He was surprisingly good at stepping up to fill the positions of both a mom and dad.

Except, of course, when it came down to him trying to have the birds and the bees talk with me.

Missed the boat a little on that one.

He was a year too late, and it was absolutely cringeworthy. Even now, remembering how embarrassing it was for us makes me shudder.

My father has been absolutely amazing in literally all other aspects of my life, though. When I got my first period, he was totally cool about it and explained to me all the options I had to make sure I was not an actual bloody mess every month. Kudos to him. I have never known any other male who is okay with a female’s menstrual cycle. They usually run in the opposite direction at the mere mention of it.

Because of his line of work, Dad does not like to open up his private life to many people. It is too risky to me, his business, and himself. Massimo and Blaze are the only two people he trusts implicitly, especially since Mom died. Considering one of the said two is currently in prison, he needs to be more vigilantthan ever.

Dad explained to me one day when I was about fifteen that Mom used to pop Valium and Xanax like they were mints. She said she needed them to help calm the anxiety that came with being his wife and all the danger he constantly put himself in. She never did any other drugs and would only take one when he wasn’t home. She’d only ever take more when she knew he was around to keep me safe.

He was always her protector, and she used to call him her ‘fallen guardian’ because he was far from perfect, but he was perfect for her. He had a dark past and plenty of blood on his hands, but he would protect Mom and also me when I came along.

But there was this one day, and there seems to always be one in situations like ours, when Dad was out doing a business deal and got a feeling deep down that something was wrong. So, he sent Massimo back home to check on Mom and me. Hehadalways been so protective and paranoid when it came to Mom. I feel like it might have clouded his better judgment more times than he would care to admit.

So Massimo came to check on us while Dad finished a deal down at the docks. Little did he know that everything was fine at home. Until Massimo arrived.

I remember Massimo arriving, but it’s like my memories of that night have vanished or at least been pushed into the furthest recesses of my brain. When I try to remember, my mind goes hazy like it switched off in the moment or something.

I do remember Mom was fine. At least I thought she was, and so was I.

Dad says Massimo called him about an hour after leaving the docks. “She’s OD’d, Enzo. Lani, she’s gone and had a fucking overdose.”

I remember hiding under the table after hearing Mom tellingMassimo to stop. I do not remember anything else until Dad got home and found me huddled in the back corner of my closet, completely blanked out.

To this day, I do not trust Massimo, and I don’t think I ever will. Call it gut instinct.

While I’m eating my cereal, Dad walks in and goes straight for the coffee machine. The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree—we both love our coffee. My father likes his black, straight, and strong, like him. I prefer mine with a small amount of milk and a heaped teaspoon of sugar, nice and sweet. Nothing like me. Dad leans back against the counter while his coffee brews, running his hands down his face and giving a little exhausted sigh.

“Busy day today,Bella,” he states. I wonder what he is talking about. I thought we had the day off.

I had been so excited at the prospect of having a day to relax after having finished my degree in business management earlier this week. I worked my butt off to finish all my schooling and higher education early.

Dad and I have never spoken about the fact he is the head of the crime scene in the city. It’s more been something that was known but never actively talked about. Until it was. He no longer hides his conversations or work from me but has stated he does not want me involved in his business, at least not directly anyway. He’s happy to have me work behind the scenes or on bookkeeping and numbers. Just not at the forefront of the operations. Giving me the opportunity to get into the family business, so to speak.

I was excited to finally get a break from everything foronedamn day. Dad, however, apparently has other plans.

“Hmm?” I look up, waiting for him to elaborate.

“Remember? Today’s the day Blaze gets out. We’re going to go pick him up.”

I try to hide my body’s response. Try to stop my eyes fromgrowing too wide. I completely forgot, the day had crept up on me super quickly. That would explain why we had the day ‘off.’ Those days are exceedingly rare. There is always something to do or someone to chase up with.

Blaze got sent away almost six years ago for aggravated assault and possession of firearms and narcotics. He has been let out early, though, for good behavior.

Dad has voiced his opinion on what happened many times, saying it doesn’t add up at all. None of it does when it comes to Blaze’s case. The day he got put away, he was supposed to be with Massimo. However, he was way off course from where he was meant to be dropping off stuff to a client when he got intercepted and jumped. Blaze had apparently beaten the shit out of two of the three guys who jumped him while the third hid and called the cops.

Pussy.

Somehow, call it coincidence, he ended up outside of the local police’s jurisdiction. Therefore, they weren’t on Dad’s payroll, and he couldn’t sway them to turn a blind eye. And where was Massimo when all of this went down? No one knows for sure, but he insists that he stayed on course and could have sworn Blaze was in the car behind him the whole time.

“Yeah, of course. What time are we leaving?” I ask, trying to scarf down the rest of my breakfast, knowing I won’t have long to get ready.

“He gets out at about noon,” Dad replies with a nonanswer as I quickly wash up my breakfast bowl, spoon, and coffee cup.

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