Page 15 of Dirty Behavior

I couldn't have that. Call me a stubborn bastard, call me selfish and greedy. . .

I was, I wouldn't argue that.

That was what got me into this mess to begin with; My greed.

Throwing the door open, I took off up the sidewalk, and followed the herd of people towards my father's final home. I didn't look back at my uncle, but I could feel him watching me.

And as I made my way to the front, I felt all the other eyes burning holes into the back of my head. Everyone was watching me.

What the fuck are they looking for?

As I glanced around, some of the eyes looked sad, they seemed to hold pity for me and my situation in them. Others had disgust, fear, terror. Were they expecting me to light up the place? Yank my gun from my waist and start firing it off in a fit of rage?

I was a bad, bad man. But I didn't just kill for fun, I didn't just devour people because I had an angry heart.

Everything I'd done had come down to punishment. Follow the rules, pay your fee, take care of your debt, and we didn't have a problem.

But if you didn't or if your mouth was too big for its own good. . .

I was coming, period.

There was a strange feeling floating around inside me. I was angry because he died by the hand of someone who was beneath him. I was worried for Ivy and her safety. I was sad because Bane was my father.

Then there was something else, it started off small, but as the funeral pressed on and I stood there stewing with all these emotions building up, something else crept in. Something that was so distant and foreign I couldn't place it at first.

The feeling wrapped around my stomach, sliding up my chest and tickling the back of my throat. Swallowing hard, I pushed the lump back down where it settled in my gut.

I felt sorry.

This was my fault.

It was because of my selfish nature that my father was no longer here. It was because I stole something that didn't belong to me that he lost his life.

Everything was because of me.

What the fuck was I supposed to do with that?

I couldn't even concentrate on what was going on around me to actually be present right in that moment. I had never felt sorry like that before.

Everything I'd ever done in my life, all the horrible things; it was all for him. All of it came with the job, every order given to me, I followed.

Now he was gone.

Fuck!

I had the urge to scream and kick, to pick up the flowers and throw them across the grass. But I held that all in and it was whirling deep inside me, turning my insides into a torrent of explosions and pain.

Save it for Remo. He's the one who'll pay for this.

The funeral only lasted an hour, but it seemed to go on forever. I just wanted to get the fuck out of there and go back to Ivy. I needed to be here, but she needed me too.

I watched the crowd, looking and searching for Remo or one of his goons. But I didn't see anyone. There were at least ten news vehicles parked on the outskirts, all with cameras and reporters standing around watching like this was some damn circus sideshow.

Police cars were blocking them from getting any closer, the men in blue all gawking just the same.

Fucking assholes. Don't they have anything better to do then this?

I had so much rage inside that my fingers were curled into my palms, cutting into the skin. My father was more then just a headline; he was a man, a father and a brother.

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