Page 8 of Tesio
“He resisted,” I practically growled at him, and he rolled his eyes at me.
“Listen to yourself. You’re trying to justify your behaviour, and you know it. All he did was ask a question, and you practically kicked his ass. You know if you left marks, we’ll have to account for those, and he could just as easily declare you were acting outside your purview.”
“Police brutality,” I grumbled, “they all try it. They all think they’ll get somewhere. This won’t be any different.”
“You punched him!” Evers hissed, pressing his palm over my door as I tried to open it.
I opened my mouth and his glare intensified. For a guy who showed so little emotion in the job, he was definitely pissed at me.
“Look, I get that something’s going on with you, and you have some kind of bee in your bonnet, but your actions affect me too. I’m not losing my fucking pension because you get us a badname. Wind it in. Do what you need to, so it’s out of your system, but not when you’re on duty, and definitely not with me. Are we clear?”
Whoa, he literally just handed me my ass, and I found myself nodding silently. He was right. My beef wasn’t with him, or the force, or the fucking suspect currently whining about his bloody nose. It was with my father. No, wait. It was with crime.Criminals.
It was with every fucking scummy asshole out there who thought the law was there for others to follow, but not them. Every bastard who thought they were above the law, and arrogantly flaunted their fucking crimes, like they were badges of honour.
I stewed in the car all the way to the stationhouse, completely ignoring the other people in the car, because something just resonated with me. Crime had to be dealt with, and where were the biggest criminals in this town? That fucking motorcycle club.
If I couldn’t take it out on everyday citizens for minor crimes, I’d take down the biggest fucking criminal organisation in town, and I’d do it single handedly if I had to. Somehow, I had to show crime that it didn’t get to fucking win. Not on my watch. And you know what?
That feeling only intensified, and grew even more extreme, when I received the news that someone took a shiv to dad in prison. A numbness set in too, because had I caused his death, with my unwillingness to stoop to a life of crime with him, or for him? Was my lawfulness the reason he died? Whatever way you looked at it, crime was evil. And that meant every criminal out there was the enemy.
Chapter Five
That last day atthe clubhouse fucking sucked. When Reacher called me up, and I stood up, knowing I was about to out myself as mafia, and lose this camaraderie I’d found, this fucking brotherhood that felt so right, where I was starting to realise my normal life had always been a little too tight… yeah, it was so hard to not just smirk and deny the whole thing.
Those words ‘Grease, stand up’ were the start of the fucking end. I literally felt like I was losing everything, but I had to man up, right? Be the fucking mafia soldier I’d been raised to be.
I forced a grin, and stood up, smoothing my signature quiff and leaning against the chair. I wished we could put this off, or do it another day, like never, but it was happening, and I had to go with it.
“Why don’t you introduce yourself properly, brother?”
With a thud of my heart, I flicked a quick salute at my Pres, myformerfucking President, and straightened up, forcing myself back into the stiffened posture of my mafia shackled life. I was starting to realise that this foray into another world hadcemented my dissatisfaction with my lot in life, so going back was going to be harder than anything I’d done before.
I swallowed down all of the regret I was feeling, and did what Reacher had requested. See, he requested, rather than commanding.
“My real name is Tesio Agosti, and I work for Don Rossi.”
The room filled with noise as people started reacting to my revelation, speaking over each other, and making their displeasure known. Hell, I was right there with them. I didn’t want to return to being TesiofuckingAgosti. I was Grease now, but then maybe I always had been. Maybe that’s why my suits had never really fit me.
When Stitch declared that they’d miss me, I don’t think he realised just how fucking heartfelt my response was.
“Honestly, I’m gonna fucking miss this too. Mafia life is so fucking stuffy, but you guys relax and kick back, and just live. I enjoyed just living for a while.” It wasn’t long enough, that was the problem.
“You could always go prospect,” Torch suggested, smirking at me like it was even my decision. Like I got to make those kinds of choices for my life. I forced another grin, like my world wasn’t ending.
“Yeah, not really down for taking on a year of toilet duty or whatever, but thanks.”
From there, they held discussions about old lady rituals and shit, and I just stood there and let the craziness wash over me, while I lamented the fact that I wouldn’t even be here to see their old ladies getting inked.
I shoulda had the fucking Phoenix MC ink, so I could remember this short phase of my life where I finally fit into the role I was playing, hell, not even feeling like I was playing a part at all. It was real, but it was over.
I smirked, imagining the reactions of my mafia kin, if they saw a fucking biker tat on me. Jesus, they’d probably kill me for it, and you know what? For a minute, I was doubly fucking gutted that I didn’t do it. Returning to the mafia would be like a slow death for me. I already felt half suffocated, and I wasn’t even back there yet.
The room cleared out, with various guys slapping my back, or flipping me off, depending on their perspective, and then it was just me, Reacher, and Stitch.
“Honestly, Tesio, thank you for everything you did. You were a godsend,” Stitch said, leaning both hands on the table as he focused on me. Reacher was still sitting, but he was ever watchful.
“Fuck me,” I cleared my throat, “you’d think I’d been here for years, because this feels like leaving my home.” Jesus, I just fucking said that, didn’t I? What a pussy.
