Page 99 of Wicked Little Game
Apart from tending to my broken heart, I also thought about the situation with my father’s business. From the moment they drove off with him, this topic had been on my mind.
At first, I wanted nothing to do with it. With parts of it, I still want nothing to do. But it’s a profitable business and I have the knowledge and the men to make it work.
Under my terms.
That’s what I tell Vinny and Dom in the next few hours. We discuss a few things, mainly Vinny and me, because Dom still seems a bit overwhelmed.
Understandable; he was never this involved with all of it. He did a bit of courier stuff for my father, drove him and his men around, and now he’s suddenly promoted right to the top.
Vinny and he ran into each other right outside of the gate. Dom came looking for me because he had a bad gut feelingand Vinny came because he and a few other guys couldn’t get a hold of my father in the last few days.
In the end, we’re all on the same terms. No more fucking human trafficking, no organ bullshit, no forced prostitution. If I find out that someone tries shit behind my back, I want them to inform me immediately so that I can take care of the issue.
I have to keep a close eye on anyone, especially now. I’ve seen what happens when you don’t do it.
It’s not like all of this is suddenly an ethical operation, but if I don’t take matters into my own hands, someone else will take over. And I’d prefer the local drug market to be in my hands because whoever would come after me, they would be on my ass immediately. Retired competition is still competition.
Late at night, they finally leave, but not without making sure that I’ll call them if I need anything. Vinny is a good guy, even if he seems gruff. He’ll take care of everything, will do what I told him to do, and he’ll make sure that the others do the same.
My next few days are filled with calls and with people who knock on my door to express their condolences or to complain about the new rules, which helps me weed out the idiots who I don’t want to work with any longer.
It also helps me forget about the whole situation with Sam. Until it’s late at night and I’m sitting on the couch in this house that’s way too big for one person, when not even three screens are enough to distract me from the fact that I’m goddamn lonely.
When one of the banks where my father had his money stashed away calls me to inform me it’s now officially mine, I put on a proper outfit and drive into the city.
There’s something I need to do, something I wanted to do for so long, and happiness replaces the sadness inside of me, atleast for a moment, as I hold the keys to a certain object in my hand.
My gaze lands on my wrist as I drive towards the mall, and it’s just then that I realize that something is missing. There’s only one bracelet on my wrist—and I thought Sam couldn’t confuse me even more.
My good mood is gone, replaced with this fucking void inside of me again, and when Richard smiles at me as I come into his store, the dam breaks. I sob into his shoulder until I feel bad for soaking his shirt, remembering that I came here with good news and not to make the poor man feel bad.
“I have a surprise for you,” I sniffle as I put the keys to his old new shop in his hand.
“Sweetheart, my God, that wasn’t necessary,” he says, wiping his eyes with the sleeve of his shirt, which in return causes me to start crying again.
“You can still keep the store here. I’ll pay for everything. Retire, do whatever you want, Rich. I just wanted to give you back what’s yours.”
“You’re an angel, Ruby.”
I shake my head and all the things that have happened spill out of me. The situation with my father, with his business, with Samuel, with my mom.
I talk and I cry, for hours, nonstop, and Richard listens. Just like he always did. He holds my hand, brings me tissues from time to time, and a hot chocolate when I calm down enough to drink something.
He squeezes my hand when he notices it’s all getting too much again, and strokes over my head for the parts where I can’t even form proper words.
And then, hours later, it starts to get better. It’s like my body did an emotional deep cleanse, puking out everything that has been bothering me. All the things I was so sure I could tell no one. But Richard doesn’t judge, never judged, and healso wouldn’t snitch on me. Not that the police aren’t on my father's, well, now my, pay list, but still.
“Do you love him, sweetheart?”
“Yes,” I mumble. “But it doesn’t matter. I fucked up, and he’s gone. And it’s better this way. I have too much to take care of. He has his own issues and it wouldn’t have worked either way.”
“Don’t write it off just yet,” he says softly. “Love finds a way. If it’s meant to be, it will work out.”
Speaking to Richard helped, more than I thought it would. Maybe he’s right, maybe everything will be okay again.
I still can’t bring myself to contact Sam, though, not even after Max started a group chat with me and Logan. It doesn’t help with distancing me from the whole situation, but I like them too much to stop talking to them.
Dom comes around a few times and helps me throw my father’s stuff out of the house. We burn a few things, which was Max’s idea, and we even video-called him to let him watch. He looks like a kid on Christmas morning and I think he is slightly sad that he didn’t get to burn shit the night he spent here.
