Page 1 of Breaking Storm

Chapter 1

A SUMMONS FROM TWO RIVAL gang leaders isn’t a good sign, and my dad, William Malone, is one of them. I should have never responded to the message notification on my phone. My dad and I are like Stalin and Lizzie Bennett. All he told me was to meet him and James Cooper, a rival leader, and Joey Cooper, his son at the Pavilion Café near Printer’s Row. It’s so windy that my hair is beating the crap out of me while I stand outside the café, watching the three of them seated at a table in the back. Chicago is the windy city, but if you ask me, it has more to do with the turbulent gangs than the weather or politicians. I take a deep breath and let it out slowly before opening the door.

The café isn’t different from any other, aside from its elongated depth as opposed to width, and the lighting dating back to the 60s. Chairs and booths are adorned with torn, red seat cushions. A musty, stale grease smell hovers in the air. Dad and James are facing my way, and Joey has his back to me. Joey and I were in grammar school together, but I wound up at a Catholic high school, and he went to the public one in his neighborhood. I haven’t seen him since I was sixteen. From the broadness of his back, I’d say he’s been a friend of the gym.

My dad notices me first and gives me a ‘you better behave’ look.On the rare occasions my dad and I are in the same room, we’re usually at each other’s throats. James Cooper gives me a Joker smile, creepy as hell, and then Joey turns and stands when he sees me. Yes, he has done a lot of growing. A tower of a man. My lips part and I’m forced to tilt my head back to make eye contact.Has he always had those mint-green eyes?I wouldn’t mind giving him a finger comb on the top of his black hair and scratching the short sides. The stubble beard accentuates his clean, strict jawline.

He pulls out my chair, the one across from my dad, standing with his hands on the back of it, waiting for dorky me to sit. In this short amount of time, I’m staring at Joey Cooper, admiring his growth spurt. I give a quick smile, feel the redness traveling up my neck and face, and plop in the chair.

James holds his hand out and says, “It’s nice to see you, Teagan, and I have to say, you’ve grown up very nicely. Very nice… indeed.”

The creep factor rises as he takes my hand and kisses it. I never liked the man, so it’s no wonder I’d want to dunk my hand in scalding water to remove his disgusting saliva from it. I fix the napkin on my lap and give a slight nod to Joey.

Dad ends the introductions by saying, “I’m glad the two of you could make it.”

I snort out, “Like we had much of a choice.”

“That’s enough, Teagan!” He glares at me until I purse my lips and look down. “James and I met recently about the gang activities that are starting to crowd our territories. Aside from the small gangs who pay their dues, James and I have ruled this city for years, and we’re not going to let a new generation of fuckers take over.” I glance around, embarrassed by my dad’s language, and for the first time I realize we’re the only ones in here, except for the bodyguards.

Not expecting a response, he continues, “So, we decided to make peace by strengthening our alliance through a marriage.”

My napkin falls to the floor, and as Joey picks it up, I ask, “And that has to do with me how?”

James sits back, folds his arms over his chest, and says, “The two of you are getting married.”

Joey hits his head while coming up from under the table after retrieving my napkin, and I shout, “What?”

My dad snarls, “You heard him correctly, Teagan. Stop with the theatrics.”

I shake my head, pressing my trembling hands together, and say, “I’m not getting married.”

In quick succession, dad leans forward, his finger pointed at me, and demands, “Yes you are.”

“No, I’m not.” I fold my arms across my meager breasts. “I’m twenty-two, and I’m going to college. Did you forget? I have a couple more years left.”

Again, his finger jabs my way. “You open your fucking mouth once more, and I’ll make you wishyouhad forgotten.”

From my periphery, Joey is just sitting there, staring at his father, and not saying a word. I can read the anger from his expression by the way his jaw tightens. In our younger years, he often wore a face that warded off the weak. A discontented boy in a sea of destruction. I can relate to feeling unhappy. Our world isn’t the kind you find solace in. It’s raw, gritty, and full of violence, and one I’ve never embraced. Once I attended high school, I drifted from the gang crowds, the girls who searched for love through sex, and the guys who abused the privilege of having a woman. My best friend Erin is the only one I talk to from the streets. I bury myself in my studies and florist job. Now my dad wants me glued to this world, but I refuse to go down without a fight.

I stick my chin toward my father and flare up when I protest, “Make me, Dad, because there’s no way in hell I’m getting married.”

The table flips to the side, his hand twists and yanks my hair until I’m standing, and he drags me away by the hair.

Joey shoots to his feet, pumping his fists at his side as I hear James say, “Sit down, Joe. It’s none of our concern.”

The wrath etched in Joey’s face is the last thing I see as my dad flings me into the men’s washroom, smacking me across the face a couple of times for good measure. I’m shaking from shock and anger, yet I shouldn’t be surprised. My dad has never thought twice about striking me. I’m well acquainted with his fists. But doing it in front of James and Joey is humiliating.

I’m screaming for him to let go of my hair as he shakes my head with his hand still latched on.

My dad puts his face near mine, shouting, “Don’t you ever talk to me like that in front of anyone! Do you understand me?” He finally lets go.

Blood drips from my nose onto my blue shirt. My head hurts from his smack and pulling my hair.

I swipe my hand across my face, smearing blood, tears streaking my cheeks, and say, “You promised.”

College is everything. A way to distance myself, and when I’m done, to disappear for good. Again, I shouldn’t be surprised by his reneging. William Malone has never been a good man, especially to me, his daughter. I’m trembling and the deception feeds my anger.

His voice rises with every word. “I never promised, Teagan. Iletyou go to college.Let. And now, I’mlettingyou get married.”