Page 52 of Cocky Jerk

I spot my father instantly, and of course, he’s not alone. His vice president, Cash, stands tall at his right, and next to him is Ritmo and Hound. They all look at me with blank expressions, but as I draw near, I can see the disappointment in Cash’s eyes and the disgust in Hound’s. Ritmo I can never read. I suppose that’s because he looks like a sociopath on any given day. My dad, well, that’s another story. He looks like he’s about to commit murder.

Great.

“Brought the reinforcements, huh?” I question as I come to a standstill in front of him. “What did I do this time?”

“Who’s your fucking boyfriend?” Hound sneers.

“Excuse me?”

“Oh, right, you’re just fucking him.”

I tear my eyes away from Hound and look to my father, expecting him to put this son of a bitch in his place, but he doesn’t move an inch.

“You didn’t come home,” Cash says. “Didn’t check in either.”

“I was on a date,” I hiss, gritting my teeth. I wave a hand toward my dad. “He knew that.”

“You forgot one detail,” Dad says.

Is he fucking kidding me?

“Didn’t really think you wanted to know I would be spending the night in a guy’s bed, but next time I’ll call you while we’re going at it that way you have peace of mind.”

“There ain’t going to be a fucking next time, Tonia,” Dad hollers.

“Actually, there is, and you don’t have a say in that.”

“He’s a fucking cop!” He shouts so loud it echoes off the walls of the garage. Unfazed by the tone of his voice, I’m taken back by the fact he knows Marco is a cop. I didn’t divulge one detail about Marco to my dad. Not his profession. Not his name. Nothing.

“There isn’t a chance in Hell you’ll be seeing that motherfucker again,” Dad continues, his jaw tightening with every word.

I blink for a second before diverting my eyes back to Hound. There was no way he could’ve known from that night he saw me with Marco that he was a cop.

“How do you know he’s a cop?” I ask, looking back at my father.

“That’s not important,” he seethes, his fists closing and opening as he rolls his neck from side to side. He’s not the only one trying to control their anger. My hands are shaking and it’s taking every ounce of self-control not to lunge at him.

“You had me followed.”

“Of course I had you followed,” he fumes. “You gave me no fucking choice. When I say things aren’t safe, I’m not blowing smoke, Antonia.” He takes a step closer to me. “Ditch the cop or you’re going to force my hand.”

“What does that even mean?”

“It means we don’t need no fucking pig sniffing around our shit,” Hound yells.

My gaze slices to him.

“Fuck you,” I sneer.

“He’s using you, Antonia,” Dad growls.

“You’re crazy,” I murmur in disbelief.

“Maybe, so, but I’ve been around the block a time or two. He’s not interested in you.”

That last sentence hits hard.

“Excuse me?” I croak.

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