Page 6 of Fight Me Daddy

Calix

"Oh,Calix you don't have to do that."

I smiled at Sofia Lopez and carried her groceries up the steps. She was easily in her seventies and walked with a cane, but she always insisted she didn't need my help. Even when I could see the relief on her face when she didn't have to go up and down the stairs with heavy bags.

"It's no problem. I told you before, it's more exercise for me. And I need it."

Sofia rolled her eyes. "You're a charmer just like your father, you know that, son?" Chuckling, she held the door open for me and I stepped past her. "You can set them on the counter."

"Yes, before I put them away," I said as I went back to her kitchen and put the loaded bags down. "And then I'll get out of your hair."

"Stubborn like your father too."

I smiled, but it was forced. The last thing I wanted to hear about was my father. He'd put me in such a screwed-up predicament and I still didn't have the money for the Bianchi family. Soon, they would be coming for me and I had no idea what was going to happen.

Probably something involving a pair of pliers and a baseball bat.

My imagination replayed every last mafia movie I'd ever seen as a kid while I trudged back and forth for groceries. Back then, I used to think mobsters were so cool. Now I knew better. They were vicious monsters without morals or ethics.

"Would you like a glass of water, dear?" Sofia called.

"No, I'm okay," I said, shaking my head as I loaded up her pantry with dry goods. "Besides, I'm almost done." I closed the pantry and moved to the fridge. "You can always call me when you're on your way home. I'm usually here when you come back from the store."

She waved a hand. "I know, I know. But I don't like to bother you," she sighed.

I shook my head. "You're not bothering me at all." After I finished up I stood and closed the fridge door. "Is that everything?"

"It should be," she said with a nod before a frown overtook her pink-painted lips. "Calix, here," she said, pulling down a jar and reaching inside. Her hand came back full of bills. "I know your father was going through some things and money was tight. Please, take this. It'll be payback for all the times you've looked out for me."

Holding up my hands, I shook my head at her. No way. I can't take money from anyone let alone Mrs. Lopez. She was a widower who was living off of a pension. I wasn't going to take money out of her pockets for my own troubles no matter how badly I needed it.

"Thank you, but no thanks. I'm alright." When she looked at me wearily, I smiled, trying to reassure her. "Really, I mean it. I appreciate it, but things are under control." After she sighed and stuffed the cash away, she walked me outside. "But if you need anything else let me know."

"Now, why can you help me but I can't help you. Hmm?"

I chuckled. "You help me when you make that killer pork pozole and bring me a giant Tupperware of it," I said, rubbing my stomach as my mouth salivated just thinking about it. "With those homemade tortillas," I added wistfully.

Mrs. Lopez laughed. "Fine, fine I'll whip up a batch for you tomorrow night. How does that sound?"

"Like heaven," I said honestly. "Thank you."

She waved a hand. "It's no problem. Tell your dad I'll make some dessert too."

I smiled, but I didn't have the heart to tell her I had no idea where he was. Or if he was even alive. Instead, I swallowed thickly and nodded.

"Sounds like a plan."

A car horn blared and I jumped. Stepping out of his car in a dark suit and deep blue tie was Gabriele Bianchi. He smoothed his hand down the front of his clothes and strolled around the car, not even looking out for traffic, as if it would all just stop. For him.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

I'd always known that they were aware of where we lived. But knowing that and seeing a Bianchi in my space were two very different things. As he swaggered up to the sidewalk, Sofia scoffed beside me.

"Never liked gangsters," she muttered, crossing herself quickly. "You can see them coming a mile away. I wonder where he's going."

"Gonzalez. We need to have a chat," Gabriele said, stopping on the sidewalk in front of Mrs. Lopez's porch. "Let's go."

"He's here for me," I muttered as I glanced over at her.

---