Page 12 of Nocturnal Sins
“Yes, your Sam. She’s seventeen though. She’ll be eighteen in May. I think it’s okay for her to curse. As her big brother, I’m giving her permission.” The girl had been cursing since she was six. I honestly didn’t and couldn’t give her permission to do anything. She was her own person.
Pop grunted in response and strolled over to a piece of art on the wall that swung out to reveal a safe door. His fingers flew over the buttons as he punched in the seemingly endless code. I tried to keep count of how many high-pitched beeps sounded with each press but I lost count after seven.
“This is where I keep my connect contacts, mijo.” I stood beside him and peered into the square metal space. I thought I’d see papers but instead, I saw…pagers. My face twisted with confusion.
“What is this, Pop? I thought you said your contacts were in here.”
“They are. They’re stored in these beepers in a specific order. No names but I know the order. These are from the nineties. They’re disconnected with no trace. No trail.
I kept the contact numbers though and my IT guy Carlos can get inside and change the numbers as needed. He doesn’t know what contact is what. He just changes the numbers when I need him to.
Nobody knows the order or the names and numbers but I want you to learn them. You’re my son and I guess if I have to bring you in I’m gonna make sure you know everything so you can take over when the time comes.”
I was stunned silent. Pop wanted me to take over his operation eventually. That meant a lot.
I thought about his contacts and glanced at him. “Nobody knows who’s who in the pagers? Not even Dom?” Dominic Vargas was Pop’s best friend and right-hand man. I never saw them apart when I was younger.
Pop chuckled at my question and said, “Not even Dom. He knows where they’re at and knows what’s in them but I’m the only person that knows who’s who.” He paused a beat and let a contemplative smile crinkle the corners of his eyes. “When we come here, I want you to study these before our meetings. Only by memory though. I won’t allow you to write a thing down, Santana.”
“Okay, I can do that.” I was determined to make Pop proud since he was letting me in. As hard as it was not to push to learn everything immediately, I made myself shut the fuck up.
When we went to the meeting, I couldn’t help the smug grin on my face when I saw Marco sitting in a chair, his jaw swollen and bruised. He didn’t talk much the entire hour Pop delegated tasks. He only nodded his head and shot me dirty looks.
When things wrapped up and the seven men that were gathered in the back walls of Papa’s vacated their hide out spot, Dominic Vargas came to sit with us in the storage room sandwiched between stacks of cleaner and plastic gloves.
Dom eyed me for a few moments then turned to Pop and said, “So, you finally letting the kid pull his weight, huh, Chris?”
“I had no choice. You know I wanted better for Samira and Santana but life chose his path for him.” He still seemed torn about the entire thing.
“He’ll be a good boy. You starting him out on the streets to let him get his chops?” Dom cracked a smile that made my hackles rise.
“Santana is an Alvarez. He’s not pounding anybody’s fucking street. He’ll learn this side of the business so he can take over when I’m gone.” Pop’s brows sloped forward making his eyes narrow at Dom.
“You’re not starting him on the bottom rung of the ladder?” He asked again as if he needed further clarification.
“No.” Pop’s tone was final. I knew that tone. It meant shut the fuck up and don’t ask anymore. Dom nodded his head and stroked his chin.
“Well, welcome to the business, Santana.” Dom laughed and clapped my shoulder a few times. We sat around tossing back drinks while I soaked in stories from the two best friends about how hard they fought to get the operation to the place it was today.
I was drunk as fuck when I got home. I stumbled up the steps and crashed face first into my mattress after stripping down to my boxer briefs. The bed groaned beneath my weight when I flipped over to my side. It wasn’t until then that I noticed a body already there.
It was warm and smooth and when I cracked open my eyes, I saw the golden glow of her sandy skin and butterscotch hair tied in a messy bun.
Samira.
I knew she was going to pelt me with questions in the morning. For the night though…I wanted to hold her.
My hands went to her waist and I marveled at how tiny it was. Her hips flared out accentuating it like drums in an otherwise flat song.
Damn, Sammie. Why the fuck did you have to be a late bloomer?
I clasped her to me and she wiggled flush against my body. Her head nestled beneath my chin, her back to my chest and her ass right against my cock.
Fuck.
I wanted to pull away from her but she felt so perfect right there. A low and pleasant hum warmed my blood when I held her like that. Something dark splintered inside of me sending shards in every direction. I should have let her go.
My fingers splayed out on her flat stomach and I rubbed against something dangling from her navel. A piercing. When the fuck had she gotten that?
