Page 85 of Hunter
She was given a pass because of her family. It makes me so fucking mad that this bitch once again, is never held accountable for her shit.
She would’ve been dealt with otherwise, and I would’ve loved to see it. From what I’ve quickly learned, the Rossi Family doesn’t play when it comes to being disrespected like that, and I was honestly hoping for a show.
Gabe had figured out that shit too, hence the predictable paranoia. It’s why he tilted his head to Alvi to show some fucking respect. Tattoo guy frowned and narrowed his eyes at him, but lifted his chin to acceptmi primo’s gratitude for not shooting her crazy ass.
Thinking about it, I’m pretty sure that Alvi gave her some grace after seeing how fucked she is in the head. This is by far the worst mental health break that I’ve seen her go through. I think that everyone in here tonight witnessed her jumping off the fucking deep end.
There’sliteralmenteno other explanation as to why she’d be out here with a fuckingpistolaacting like she was going to shoot up the shop. She had this look on her face like she was invincible, but what she really had was a fucking death wish; she was in all her manic glory.
Coming up like we did, you know that pulling a piece means that you’re ready to shoot and be shot at, if shit jumps off. And this bitch didn’t hesitate to whip it out and get the party started.
Her shit would’ve definitely caused a fucking problem out in BX. And out there, they don’t give a fuck who yourabuelais. Iftattoo guy didn’t have tea with her grandma like he mentioned, I guarantee he wouldn’t have been so understanding.
Respect, retaliation, and reputation are the three R’s that keep the streets running, and that shit’s true out in New York, just like it obviously is here. Here being the parallel fucking universe that I’ve found myself in.
This ain't the X, but it’s definitely the life. This isn’t some bullshit townie operation, and Alvi ain’t no low-level shit out here in the Rossi Family. He’s got rank. He’s number three in line of aliteralmenteItaliancrime family. They do the usual shit you’d expect with the fucking gambling, running numbers, loan sharking, protection, shit like that,pero, they also have these “golden ties.”
This family is out here with connections to pro ball, casinos, and fucking imported Italian wine and shit. They’re also the ones you go to when shit goes sideways. And that’s just the shit I found out sitting here.
So Alvi would’ve been in his fucking right to take her out, considering who his ass is. She walked up in here with a fucking gun, and as soon as Gabe saw her reach inside that ugly ass purse, he started choking on the toxic fumes of grandiosity that were radiating off of her ass. And I was able to smell her psychosis from the other side of the fucking room.
She pointed that shit in the middle of Alvi’s fucking shop, and she didn’t flinch when guns were pointed at her either. Alvi held his hand up to halt his guys from blasting her to the big psych ward in the sky, but it was like this silly bitch didn’t even notice that they were there.
She was too focused on me. And getting that R in Retaliation.Ay, diosas, wey.
FIFTY-THREE
Coach ran a tight fucking practice.The whole time, I kept thinking that I loved someone more than the game that I was playing and the ice I was skating on. I love her more than hockey. I’d risk every play, every game, and every win for her. No contest, no hesitation.
I’d take any bet if it meant that she was safe. So that’s what I’m gonna do tomorrow. No regrets. Not when it comes to Ed.
I texted her as soon as I got outta the locker room shower, to let her know not to leave without me and that I was pickingher up at the library. If I hadn’t texted her, this fucking menace would’ve, in fact, left without me.
On my way outta the tunnel, I asked my boy Lou, the head of Arena Security, if I could get back in for a private tour after he locked up. I had an idea.
“I’ll tell ya what, kid, I’m gonna go to my office, eat the dinner that my wife packed me, and then I’m gonna take a nap on my couch since all of you should be at that event tonight. That should buy you two, maybe three hours,” he told me. We shook on it as he added, “And be fucking respectful to your ladyfriend. I don’t want any trouble, Three, or it’s your ass.” I gave him my word with my hand over my heart, and I fucking meant it when I pounded my chest over her black cat.
He told me he’d keep the east door unlocked and that our conversation never happened, before I started running as fast as I fucking could to Ed. I wasn’t about to miss a fucking moment of this.
Even if it’s the one and only fucking time, I want to have a moment with my girl in my favorite place. If shit goes bad and I never play again, it’ll be the best memory that I have of my time as a HU Devil, even if it’s just me sitting in the stands next to her.
Tonight’s the Athletic Department’s AnnualDine with a Devilevent. Anyone who would be in the arena will be at that fundraiser—my team included. Coach offered to waive volunteer hours for the month if the boys headed over to fill seats, participate in the show, rub elbows with alumni, and dance with old ladies. No fucking thank you.
The women’s team, skating teams, and all the coaches and staff are expected to be at the event too. I’m not social enough to give a fuck, so there’s no fucking way that I’d go to that shit. Lou is food-coma-napping, and because everyone at the event is a fucking suckers, I now have the whole fucking place to myself to enjoy with my girl.
If I’m gonna bring her to the arena, these are the ideal conditions; it’ll be quiet, calm, and we’ll beallllllalone. It’ll be our first date. My first fucking date ever, and I want it to be fucking great for her.
She was still tutoring when I got to the library, and I interrupted her session with some tennis player by kissing the top of her hat-covered head. She swatted her hands at me, cussed in Spanish, and turned bright fucking red. So I did it again.
Then I ordered a large cheese pizza, Parmesan garlic bread, and two cheesecake slices from the cafe app, and scheduled a pickup for our walk back. I also added mozzarella sticks because it’s fucking Ed, and I figure I’ll just make this meal as cheesy as I fucking can. This is our first date, I’m pulling out all the stops for my girl.
It took another twenty minutes, but I finally got her to the arena. My arm was being weighed down by a fucking takeout bag full of cheese, a pizza box, and a nervous Ed.
I promised her that no one would bother us, that she was safe and sound, and that I wouldn’t let anything happen to her. And I won’t. Legit, after eating all this shit, all I’d have to do is fucking fart and it would have any motherfucker that tried to get near her die on the spot. No lie.
She barely fought me, which was a fucking miracle in and of itself, but I think that’s because I fed her before her hanger kicked in. She was gnawing on the rounded end of the garlic loaf as I led her over to my two seats. I’m well aware that she only cooperated because of the cheesy bread and not because she woke up and chose kindness today. My girl chooses violence daily, and I expect nothing less.
It made my fucking dick hard, seeing her sweet ass in the family section of the stands, sitting in her motherfucking WAG seat. I had to adjust my fat cock underneath the fucking pizzabox that I had on my lap. It also made me fucking emotional seeing her sit there, eating her mozzarella sticks, drinking her Cherry Coke, and not freaking the fuck out.
