Page 43 of Empire of Lust
“And there hasn’t been until now.” Beads of sweat roll down the man’s face. “Please, Mr. Torrio. It’ll never happen again. I swear.”
“What if they seized the crates during the extra day they’re sitting here?” I take one slow step after another while Chuck backs away. “What then? Whose ass would be on the line?”
“They’re safe!” he blurts out, his back hitting the wall.
“And how the hell do you know that?” Fisting him by the shirt, I haul his pathetic face close to mine. “You working with the Feds? Is that what you’re trying to tell me? Because that’s the only way you’d know for sure.”
The rancid stench of fear rolls off him. This pathetic, weak piece of shit. I’m sick of weak links. Empty promises. Sick of the future of what I’ve built being in the hands of those I can’t trust.
Pulling my fist back, I savor the hopeless certainty in his eyes before smashing it against his cheek hard enough that his head snaps to the side. His men flinch but stay in place. They know better.
“Please! Please, Mr. Torrio!” Chuck’s cries fall on deaf ears. I’m oblivious, thanks to the rush of relief that first blow brought me. This is what I should’ve done all along. Beaten the shit out of someone until the beast inside me settled.
The beast, which now demands I hit him again.Again. He drops to his knees when I release him, and I drive my knee into his nose, sending him sprawling onto his back. His men are anxious, wringing their hands, but one look of warning keeps them in place.
“Do you motherfuckers think this is a game?” Chuck’s ribs crack when the heel of my shoe presses down on them. I can’t express how satisfying that cracking sound is to me. He rolls onto his side, curling into a ball, and I settle for kicking the hell out of his back until he squeals like a fucking pig.
“Please!” he screams from behind his crossed arms, which only adds fuel to the fire of disgust and outrage driving me. Another solid kick, and he’s on his back again, hands raised in surrender, his face a bleeding mess.
I’m hardly out of breath as I pull him up by his shirt collar. He’s the symbol of everything that could’ve gone wrong, that has gone wrong. The sense of losing control over myself, my thoughts, my life.
“Now you know,” I snarl in his face. “You do not fuck with me or my shit.” When all he does is blubber and weep, I slam the back of his head against the concrete floor.
“Boss!” I hardly hear Romero as I repeat the motion before releasing the unconscious man and push into a standing position. “We should go.”
Chuck’s breathing, but barely, lying motionless on the floor. When I back away, one of his crew crouches beside him. “We need to get him to the hospital!”
“Now,” Romero urges, pulling me by the arm.
“Let’s see if any of you fuckers forget who you’re dealing with again.” I pull my wallet from my back pocket and withdraw a stack of bills.
“There you go.” I throw a handful of cash and watch as the bills scatter across his bloody, broken body. “That should help with the hospital bills. Next time, you’ll be leaving in a body bag.”
The last thing I see before I give in and let Romero pull me out of the warehouse is the blood soaking into the bills, the dark red spreading across green. I’ve heard it calledblood moneybefore but never considered the term literally.
“I thought you were leaving the kicking ass part up to me?” Romero questions, tires squealing as we peel out of the lot.
I flex my hand, my knuckles aching, Chuck’s blood already drying on my skin. What would little Bianca think if she saw me now?
Looking at Romero, I say, “Some things the general has to do himself.”
BIANCA
My coworker, Josh, lifts his beer in my direction while we stand around the bar. “To the end of your first month. You survived.”
I lift my glass along with everybody else, laughing a little, even if the unhappy thought of Callum is always close to the front of my mind. How he hates me, wants to hurt me, can’t stand the sight of me, and how I stupidly still want him.
“You make it sound like there was ever any doubt,” I joke, forcing a smile while trying to push thoughts of him aside.
I wasn’t sure at first whether I wanted to come out for Friday's happy hour. I was afraid of what would happen if I got home, and he was waiting for me, demanding to know where I went. But I’d already turned them down so many times.
Now I’m glad I said yes. I needed this. It’s like stepping out of a cave and into the sunshine. The warmth of the sun feels good on my skin.
Without the nagging feeling I’m being watched hanging over me, I can even enjoy myself while sitting in the same club where Lucas cheated on me. Well, where I found out about it. I doubt this is the only place where he fucked some random girl. I almost said no when I found out where we were heading but stopped myself at the last second.
That’s the past, and I need to think about the future. The weeks without Lucas have only reminded me how little there was between us in the end.
Stephanie, who sits on the other side of my cubicle and is always up for gossip, taps her martini glass against mine. “Now, I can tell you. The past two analysts who started before you left before the end of the first month.”