Page 12 of Something Borrowed

Everything about her is a challenge. She’s feisty, rude and carefree in a such a way that I can’t stop thinking about her. It’s driving me crazy.

Finding her number was easy. I have access to a lot of information that is not public knowledge. It comes at a price, but this price was worth every cent I paid.

We’ve been flirting over messages all day.

It hasn’t even been twenty-four hours since I last saw her, and I want to see her again as soon as possible.

Sitting in the meeting at work I’m busy talking to her on my phone.

“Rufino, are we interrupting something?” Masaccio says with annoyance.

I look up from the message I was reading.

“Not at all, please, carry on.”

He snarls. The topic of conversation is a new shipment, and he’s stressed about it. I couldn’t give less of a fuck if I tried. My brothers are assholes. They have been assholes my entire life - making it too fucking clear that I am an outsider in their group. My red hair and imposing height setting me apart from them - making me different. They decided when I was young that I was adopted and have spent their lives making sure I understood I wasn’t one of them.

The nicknames they made up for me where endless. Devil kid. Fire brains. Carrot. The gingerbread man. Lighthouse.

But the one that stuck was Red.

It stuck because I let it stick.

I would become aggressive to the point where two of my brothers had to go to the hospital on separate occasions.

It got so bad when I was around thirteen years old that my father had me DNA tested. He knew what the results would be, but he wanted to make it clear to my brothers.

Iamtheir brother.

There is no question about it.

Yet, theystillcontinued to remind me I was not part of their inner circle.

So - fuck them.

Fuck their family meetings and their loyalty to each other.

Absolutely, I stand by my family no matter what. I would not cross that line, but I don’t have to hang out with them or be part of their shit.

I have better things to do with my time.

Typing out my reply to Verity I am back to ignoring Masaccio.

Me: So, when can I see you? I need to get my coffee mug back. It’s my favorite one.

Verity: This coffee mug is my hostage now. It’s going to cost you if you want it back. We will need to open negotiations.

I grin. This girl has caught my attention. I will play her games, and I will win.

Me: Name the price. Anything you want.

Verity: I’ll have to think about it. But in the meantime I might be at Collision tomorrow night.

Me: I might be there too. What a coincidence.

I guess I’m going to Collision tomorrow night then.

When we finished up chatting I email the club manager at Collision and book a VIP table in the private area. I want to spend some time alone with her. Out of the watchful eye of the public.

---