Page 2 of Blood & Loyalties
Never in my life had I wanted for anything, but don’t think for a moment that I hadn’t worked for every penny of it. In my family, you learned very early on everything you got, you worked hard for. Your blood, sweat, and tears went into every dollar you spent; hence, why Kiera and I wanted a fun night out, hoping to get a reprieve from life. Life had other ideas, though.
“We’ll shop tomorrow,” Kiera spat down on Antonio as he started shrieking nasty names at us. Some in Italian, some in English. I ignored him as I hacked up a wad and spit it down on his worthless body.
Spitting on someone in my family was the formal yet disgusting sign of a person being dead to you. If someone was trash and unworthy of you, you spit. It was pretty damn gross, but people understood it and normally asked no questions once it was done. If they did, they were more than likely going to get the shit beat out of them again. In Antonio’s case, I hoped he would, just for fun.
“All right, ladies. It’s done.” Scraper slid up to us and rested his hands on our shoulders, giving a slight, comforting squeeze.
I wasn’t quite ready to give it up. The tension in my body was still wound tight and needed release, but I looked over to Kiera who nodded in agreement, deflating my plans.
Kiera was always my voice of reason. It was why we worked so well together. We complimented each other to a T.
“The boys will be here soon to clean up. Let’s go get you ladies a drink,” Scraper said with another squeeze as we stepped farther back, and I tried to pull out of my tension.
Antonio tried hard to stand, his feet and knees wobbling underneath him as he groaned in pain with each movement. He was able to partially get up, but he was bent at the waist and kept shifting from one foot to the other, like either one he chose hurt too much to put his full weight on.
“I’ll fucking kill you for this, bitch!” Antonio snapped at me. He didn’t seem to understand the concept of ‘you just got your ass handed to you, so shut the fuck up.’
Scraper pulled both Kiera and I behind him then landed a hard punch to Antonio’s jaw. The loud crack echoed through the hall, even over all the boisterous music playing. Antonio’s eyes rolled into the back of his head as he fell onto the floor, his head landing with an audible thud on the tile. His body was unmoving from what I hoped was just being passed out. I didn’t need to explain this man’s death to my father or uncle.
“Come. Now,” Scraper commanded, looking down at the piece of shit. “Or else a bullet goes through the fucker’s head.”
I rolled my eyes. While I knew he would totally do it, I also knew he would pick a more discreet location than right by the bathroom in a bar. Too many witnesses. Even though no one was around us at the moment, a gunshot would surely bring everyone running.
“Let me wash up.” I didn’t wait for a response from either of them, entering the bathroom to clean off Antonio once and for all. I hated having Antonio’s blood on me in any way, even on my shoes.
Months of my life were wasted on that piece of shit, time I would never get back. I sighed, wishing things had been different. I thought he might have actually beenthe one. Who was I shitting? The one, my ass. He didn’t exist for me.
After I was done, I stepped out of the bathroom to a waiting Kiera and Scraper.
“Come on, girl. I’m thirsty.” I needed to get something inside of me to calm the hyped up feeling I had coursing through my veins. Love it or hate it, the crash from adrenaline usually sucked, and I wanted to be drunk when it happened. Forgetting seeing Antonio and that whore fucking was an added bonus.
“I bet you are,” Kiera giggled, grabbing my arm and pulling me back up to the VIP section.
Scraper led the way up the side stairs, but I could feel Dune and Case behind us. They were Kiera’s guards. She had two because of the whole being the daughter of the great Vino Lambardoni thing. We each had two other guards who we called Ghost One and Ghost Two. We had met them there, but they hid in the shadows, only coming out when necessary, which was seldom. They were there yet not there. It was eerie in a way, but we got used to it like everything else.
I couldn’t remember a time in my life when she and I hadn’t had guards of some sort tailing our every movement. Most would say it wasn’t normal, but what the hell was normal, anyway? Our fathers did it for our safety, and we accepted that. Although I’m not saying back in the day we hadn’t tried to ditch them and escape the confines of our fathers.
I laughed thinking about it. We had been so dumb and had no understanding of what kinds of threats were out there for us. We were honest to God lucky nothing had happened to us.
Music thumped through the large speakers while men and women shook their asses and everything else they had on the dance floor below us. All of them were oblivious to what just occurred in the back of the bar, which was perfect, easier to clean up. It was also a sure sign life went on even in the midst of someone’s mistakes.
Scraper led us to the plush red velvet chairs with the white trim in our closed off room. We took a seat in the dimly lit space where glass mirrored walls lined the front, allowing a great view of the bar and dance floor.
The waitress with her tight red and white shirt and barely there black shorts approached hastily after we were seated. “What can I get ya, ladies?”
The perkiness of the woman’s voice made me want to wretch. I had been a lot of things in my life, but perky was not one of them, and I was seriously not in the mood for a bubbly cheerleader. I let it go, however, ignoring it.
“Shots!” Both Kiera and I said together then smiled, looking at each other knowingly. I loved how we could always read each other’s minds. Sometimes it was a bit scary when we could do it from across the room.
“Patrón, please. Just bring the bottle, glasses, and limes,” I said.
She nodded, rushing off down the stairs with Dune’s eyes latched on to her ass. Men.
Kiera leaned back in the chair, her eyes flickering around, surveying our surroundings. She had a radiant beauty about her. Her long, chestnut brown hair in a shade or two different than my own flowed down her back. She had brown eyes with golden specks flashing inside of them, so different than my bluish-green eyes. She drew in any man she wanted, but rarely did she take a guy up on his propositions. She was happy with herself just the way she was, and I loved her dearly.
With Scraper at the entrance of the VIP area, Dune and Case made themselves at home on the other side of the small space, leaning against the wall, mirroring each other with arms crossed over their chests.
We loved having our own area up here. It gave us the opportunity to dance when we wanted and then get away without anyone bothering us unless we wanted them to. It was no secret who we were—personally or professionally—but neither of us ever let that shit go to our heads.
