Page 21 of The Sicilian Bastard
I knew I was an asshole. I couldn't tell Agosto the real reason I hadn't attended. Sure, it was partly the hot piece of ass in my hotel bed, but it was because I didn't think I would be welcome there. Rosalina shocked me showing up to my hotel room. She wasn't a bitch like normal, either. Don't get me wrong, she was my half-sister, but she also took a lot of her anger with my father out on me.
"Anyway, one of the strippers from the club was found mutilated in the Mojave desert. The only reason they found her was that I had some guys burying a body out there. I told them to send me a picture of the body and knew as soon as I saw her face she was one of my girls," he went on.
"What does that have to do with Araceli?" I clenched my jaw in anger, thinking of any potential danger being around her.
"They were roommates. This chick was torn apart, brutally. Some of the methods I've seen you use in the warehouse when we were younger. A gang was hanging around our territory. They tortured our strippers and dropped the bodies at our site." His voice rose. This was a clear sign of disrespect. The stripper meant nothing, but Agosto couldn't let this go unanswered. Whoever it was gave no fucks where they were or who they'd be pissing off.
"I don't know shit about the girl. Her name is Araceli and she only has one tattoo, one with a five-point crown or some shit like that on her hip," I hesitated. "What I do know is that an insult like this can't be taken lightly. We need to find who did it and strike back so our workers don't think we are unfeeling assholes."
What I kept to myself was that as soon as I heard the dead chick had a connection to my littlefiore,I wanted justice. The black hole where my heart resided pulsed uncomfortably and I had to stow the twitching in my hands. The very hands soiled with the blood of my enemies, wanted to rub the spot on my chest to ease what could only be hurt for Araceli's loss.
I didn't want them looking into Araceli, but if there was something we needed to know, if the famiglia was in trouble, I would have to suck it up.
"All right, well, let's try to make sure she doesn't end up cut the fuck up like her pretty little roommate until we can get some answers out of her."
A sharp gasp from the door came, then the sound of retching. How the hell did she get out of her room? I left without another word. I followed Araceli as she stumbled down the hallway, trying to get away from the office. She had an arm around her belly as if she was in pain. I caught up to her and steered her back to the room. I shoved her towards the bathroom so she could rinse her mouth and brush her teeth. I sat on the bed waiting for her to come out.
"What did he mean he didn't want me to get mutilated like my pretty roommate?" She croaked as soon as she stepped back into the room.
I shrugged my shoulders. I couldn't bear to be the one who told her. I didn't want to see the pain that would flicker on her face from the news. How could someone who was a stranger mean so much to me in such a small timeframe? I felt like my life had been irrevocably changed. I didn't like it. Not at all.
"How about we play a game? Every question you have, I get to ask one back," I murmured as she walked towards me.
She was like a terrified bird. I wanted to break her wings off, but that was going to have to wait until we got some answers. She shook her head in agreement.
"Your roommate was brutally murdered in Vegas," I harshly stated, ripping the band-aid off.
"What? By whom?" she screeched. Tears were streaking down her face.
"Don't know. That's why I need to know everything about you," I prodded.
I didn't need to know everything about her. I wanted to quell the curiosity that was eating me up inside. Who the fuck would want to kill this girl or anyone associated with her?
"There's not much to know. I've known Ruby since I woke up and she introduced me to the club. I moved in with her, and she helped me get my ID and shit," Araceli said stiltedly.
"Woke up? What do you mean?"
"I mean a year ago, I was shot and woke up in a hospital with no memory of who I am or how I got there," she snarked at me.
How was I supposed to know she had some kind of amnesia?
"Fuck," I cursed and got up to start pacing.
"Why were you shot?" Was there a connection?
"They said it was a mugging because I didn't have anything on me when they found my body." Araceli shrugged her shoulders like this information was no big deal.
It was a huge deal. She could be anyone. In my world, knowledge was power. Without knowledge, you were flying blind.
"That won't do, I may need to get a doctor to check you or some shit. We need to know your history," I muttered mostly to myself.
"Why? Why is it so important?" She threw herself in my path, not caring I could run right over her.
"Because, Araceli, people don't get murdered for no fucking reason. This isn't the 1950s; no one gets murdered like she did without leaving any evidence that didn't have some kind of motive. So, either she was into some shit, or you were." I towered over her.
She cowered away from me. Good. She should be afraid of me and what I could do.
"I mean, she did drugs, but that's all," she whispered.
I almost wanted to hit her for her innocence. Drugs were bad. Any fucking idiot knew that where there were drugs, there were gang bangers, murderers, and other unsavory characters. People like me.
