Wasted (Dirty Boys of Chicago #1) (2 page)

“
X
avier
, so good to see you. You're looking fit, healthy even.”

I sat down across from my lawyer, a sleazy man named Richard that we kept on retainer. There was always somebody in jail in my family, or some FBI agent coming after us for money-laundering or something else that they thought they could tie to the family. But they never could. Richard may have been greasy and a little bit disgusting, but the man knew how to do his job. He was excellent at hiding secrets, a perfect lawyer for a mob family.

“I'm good, Richard, but a little confused. What the hell are you doing here?”

“Well, you know the little side project you've been having me work on for you, the one I'm not supposed to tell your father about?”

I sat up a little bit straighter in my seat. If he was coming here with information, I was ready to listen. “Yeah, what about it?”

Richard hunched over a bit, his tie touching the table. He looked both ways before speaking. “I found her. She's working at some little diner on the other side of town.”

Farrah.

A sense of calm washed over my body at the thought of her face. Those beautiful doe eyes, her flushed cheeks in the neon glow of the club. The way I remembered her. “She's in Chicago? I swore they said they put her in the foster system so they took her out of the city. Witness protection program or some other bullshit.”

He shook his head. “I don't know, man, we never were able to find out what really happened to her. But she's here. I know that she never testified. From the information I was able to pull, she was under the desk the whole time and never saw who the shooter was. Without a witness, they could never make a solid case against her mother's killer.”

I didn't know that. I thought she was taken into witness protection because she was going to testify. “No, I just assumed. I tried to find her after she left, but there wasn't much. My father wanted to take care of her, because even if she wasn’t blood, she was family. He wanted to show her that she would never have to want anything for the rest of her life. But we could never find her.”

Richard nodded in understanding, pressing his lips together in a thin line. “The situation was terrible. It started that investigation against the family, people looking into books that were cooked. I mean, shit did spiral down to you landing here.”

It was true. I had taken the life of a man. He deserved it, though. He came after my family. He ripped Farrah away from me. She was only fifteen when her mother was killed. She must have been thrown into the foster system with no other family to speak of. My family had tried to find her; they didn't want her to feel alone. If there was one thing the mob was good at, it was taking care of our own. If she was placed in witness protection, then she would have completely vanished. There was no reaching her. Even our contacts with the Marshalls had no idea where she was. I hadn’t seen her in a decade.

She had been too young for me back then. I was seventeen and she was only fifteen, a baby. It wasn't right, the way I felt about her. It was one of the many reasons I'd hidden my feelings. But I didn't have to hide it anymore. Now that I knew where she was, I could tell her how I felt. About how I had killed for her. And how I would do it again if it ever came to it.

I wasn’t afraid of death. I couldn't be, not in my family. The only thing that I was scared of was that once I told her what a monster I was, she would reject me. I was worried that she wouldn't think that me taking revenge on the man who had hurt her mother was worth it. Maybe she would think it was the wrong decision. I wasn't sure.

“When is my meeting set with the parole board?”

Richard shook his head. “Still set for next month. Got a great judge on it, so it's going to be easy. And then you walk out of here a free man, with only four years under your belt. That's a personal best for me.”

I smiled at him. “And I'm sure my family will reward you handsomely for that.”

He sat back and folded his hands across his rather large belly. “You have no idea. Your mom misses you the most. But your dad is still running business as usual. Nothing that we can talk about here, of course.”

“Of course. Besides, this is a personal call, right?”

“Yup. I have absolutely nothing to report from the family. Just that they want you home for good. They don’t want you taking the fall for the family anymore.”

“I'm ready for that too. About this little additional piece of information—you keep that just between us for now, got it?”

He nodded. “You wrote the check for this one, kid. I only report to you.”

I put my hands behind my head and thought about it for a moment. Farrah. Back in Chicago. Hopefully back with me.

I
walked
past the empty table and sighed heavily. Leah saw the look on my face and immediately knew what was wrong. She rubbed my arm in an affectionate way. “We all miss him, honey.”

“I know. Just these mornings are a lot harder without him.”

I stared back at the empty table that Mr. Herman had sat in every day for the past year and felt the pain of his loss in my chest. He had been such a kind old man, and made working here so much easier. He came into our diner for every meal and was always happy to chat with all of us. He was like the grandfather I always wished I had. Just last week, he passed away in his sleep. They said it was peaceful, and he felt no pain. At least that was something. Leah and I had gone to his funeral. It was nice to meet his family for the first time. They told us how much they appreciated how well we'd been taking care of him for the past year. But really, it had been my pleasure. That man gave me something to look forward to every day. He made it so I didn't feel so lonely all the time.

“I'm gonna take my fifteen. Tell the boss?”

Leah just nodded solemnly. I walked back into the kitchen as I untied my apron from my waist. I passed the servers’ small break area and threw the apron on the counter and bee lined for the back door of the kitchen. I quickly pushed it open and took in a much needed breath of fresh air. The bright summer sun fell on my face and gently warmed my skin. I needed to get out more, maybe take up running or get a dog. The sun made me feel human again, and with so much darkness in the world, it really was the only light. I closed my eyes and let the warmth of the sun calm my nerves.

I walked past the trash to sit on a bench by the road and saw a newspaper there from the day before.

“
Mobster makes it out of jail
” was the headline.

I grabbed the paper and took it with me to the bench. Reading the article, I immediately knew who it was about. I made a call. My hands shook as I held the phone. I couldn’t believe this was finally happening. Everything I had waited for.

“He’s out.”

“We knew that was coming. Have you seen him?”

“No. But when I do, I know what to do.” I tried to sound stronger than I was. But if I didn’t, he would lose it on me. Again.

“Good. Make it count. Make him pay for what’s he’s done.”

“I will.”

I left the paper on the bench as I walked back to the diner.

Xavier Santini would come for me. And I would be ready.

He was the reason my parents were dead.

J
ust a few days later
, I was working the night shift. The place was empty.

“I think I’m going to knock off early. There’s no one here,” I said to Leah as I filled some salt containers.

“Go for it. I’ll close up this time.”

I smiled at her. We had helped each other out so many times that neither of us felt bad anymore about leaving early or asking to exchange shifts.

I left my apron under the counter and took my tips for the night. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” I said, waving to her as I left.

I was counting my money when I heard a loud engine enter the parking lot, startling me. I moved from the back parking to the side of the building to get a better look at what had startled me. A silver sports car drove up into the parking lot, and it seemed woefully out of place. The diner’s lot was usually filled with an array of minivans and small sedans. The revving of the powerful engine did not fit in.

The mysterious driver turned off the car and I walked into the front parking lot to try and get a better look at him. When he stepped out of the vehicle, my whole body froze. I could hardly breathe. Xavier Santini stood in front of me, dressed in a gray suit with a blue tie. His dark hair looked different, slightly longer than the last time I had seen him. And he had a tattoo that just crept out of the collar of his shirt. He looked so suave, with his hand unbuttoning his jacket, as he walked toward me. My mouth dropped open slightly at the sight of him, and as much as I didn't want to admit it, my whole body ached for him to touch me.

But that wasn’t the plan.

“Farrah?”

I simply nodded, unable to find my voice.

“It's been a long time. Do you think we could talk?”

I didn't want to talk. But this was part of what we had set up. I had to go with him.

“I guess. Why?”

“Because I’ve missed you.”

I sighed. “Fine.” I didn’t mean to sound so cold. I needed to play my part better. But his missing me made this easier. He would fall into my trap.

“Are you done here? Whatever the hell here is.”

“Yeah. I just finished my shift.”

He came close enough to me that he could whisper in my ear. “I can take you now, then.” His voice was seductive and made me feel like I was under a trance. I couldn't say no to him. I never had been able to. I looked up into his gray eyes. For some reason, I felt safe when I was with him, even though he was one of the most dangerous people that I knew.

“Yeah. I can leave.” My heart was running rapidly in my chest, but I willed it to slow down. This was all part of the plan. Get him to trust me again.

I walked away from the safety and security of the diner, but at that moment, looking into his eyes, I didn’t care how dangerous it was to be around him. Without a second thought, I climbed into his car. The new leather creaked as I sat down in the bucket seat. Holy shit, this car was hot. The tires squealed as we sped off, heading in the opposite direction of my home. But he wouldn’t know where I lived, could he? He knew nothing about me anymore. It had been so long since we'd been together. And back then, we were just friends. He still had no idea how I felt about him.

I sat with my hands folded in my lap and looked out the window. I tightened my hands together and tried my best to ignore his brooding presence next to me. Occasionally, I would steal glances in his direction. The outline of his jaw was so much more pronounced, and the softness of his face as a teenager had turned into hard edges as an adult. He looked darker than I remembered, or mysterious. And I was dying to get underneath his skin and find out what he was hiding.

“Are you hungry?” He asked me.

“I can eat, I guess,” I said shrugging. Why did he want to take me to dinner? That wasn't the type of guy that Xavier Santini was. He didn’t date. At least not that the man that I knew. But perhaps he was different now, maybe the years had changed him, maybe it was all the time he had in prison. He played it off like he didn't know that I knew where he had been. Maybe he really thought I had been living just a normal existence as a full-time waitress. I laughed to myself. Like anyone I knew could do that. No one who had any mob affiliation could just walk away and live a normal life. Once you were in, you were always a part of it regardless of what you really wanted.

Your wants and needs were never put above the family.

“So where are we going?”

He turned down another street that I didn't recognize. I had been away for so long. I didn’t really know where things were anymore.

“A little Chinese restaurant. They have the best General Tso’s chicken in town, at least the last time I was there they did.”

“And when was that?” I wanted to trap him into telling me about the present. Give me more information than he really wanted to, but I needed to know the truth.

“A while. You know how it is with the family and all. They eat the same damn meal over and over again. I needed a fucking break.”

“From the family?” He let his eyes cross the space between us and meet my own.

“Something like that.”

We pulled into a small hole in the wall type place, and that's when I realized he didn’t want us to be seen. He must have kept my location a secret, but why?

“I guess this place isn’t very well known.”

He didn't say anything, just exited his side of the car and came around to open my door. He extended his hand to mine and I stepped out. The last time he had opened the door for me was almost a decade ago.

It was for a dance at school. I didn't have a date, mostly because the men of the Santini family didn't trust outsiders. I had decided at the last moment that without a date I wasn't going to go. My mother argued with me million times about how a woman didn't need a man and I should just go with my friends, which is when I realized that I didn't really have many of those either. I could never invite them over to my house, for fear that they would see something that they shouldn't. When you are hiding secrets all the time as a teenager, it's hard enough just to keep up with the lies.

So over the years, I became kind of a loner. The friends that I did have had dates already.  They were the pretty girls who got asked by at least three boys each. That was the crowd that I ran with. I couldn’t tell my mother that. So I sat on the steps of my house next to the strip club in my dress and I waited for some type of miracle to happen. For someone that the family trusted to walk by and turn to me by and realize that he should've asked me earlier to be his date to the dance. And that's when Xavier found me.

“What are you doing out here?”

I sighed heavily. “Waiting”

“For what?”

“My date,” I said laughing to myself.

He sat down next to me on the stone steps.

“And when is he supposed to arrive? It's not nice to make a lady wait. Especially dressed like that.”

“There isn't one,” I said admitting to my lie and starting to get a little weepy.

“There isn’t one? How come?”

“Nobody asked me,” I said as the tears started flowing.

“Then they're all idiots. Jackasses. Who wouldn't ask a beautiful girl like you? Are they blind?”

I gave him a small smile. “I guess.”

“You are all dressed to go.”

“Obviously.”

“Then you have to go to the dance. I feel like that is some fairytale rule or some shit. If the girl’s got the dress, she has to go to the ball, right?”

I had never heard Xavier speak to me this way. He was always usually so brash, so quick to end his conversations with me. It was almost as if he wanted to talk to me but he wasn't allowed. His father had probably made some rule about how he couldn’t be around me.

It didn't matter how much he wanted to, he couldn’t break the rules.

No one could.

“I don't have anyone to go with, and I don't even have a ride there at this point. I already told my mom that some of my friends were taking me. I can't go back in there and tell her the truth now.”

“There's no reason for you to go back inside.” He stood up and took my hands. “I'll take you. I have a car, and I'm sure I can get in without a ticket. I can be really persuasive when I want to be.”  He gave me a wink.

“You want to take me?”

I placed my hand in his and he helped me up. “I said I would, didn’t I? Let's go.” He opened the car door for me and took a flask out of his jacket. “Want a drink?”

I shook my head. “No, I'm good.”

He shrugged, “Suit yourself,” he said as he threw one down the hatch. “I imagine there won't be much to do at this dance, so I guess we'll have to make our own fun.” He winked at me and started the car.

That was the last time I had been alone in the car with Xavier Santini. It had almost been a date. But somehow I felt like there had been more love and attraction then, than there was now. I was here strictly on business.

To find out the truth.

We sat down at a small table in a dark corner of the restaurant. It was clear that Xavier didn't want to be seen. We were certainly there in secret. I didn’t mind. I didn’t need the family following me, figuring out my plan.

“Mind if I order for us?”

I didn't even open the menu. “Go for it.” I wanted him to feel comfortable. Like he was running this game, when the truth was we were both playing.

“So tell me about the restaurant. Was working there your life's aspiration?” He asked with a smirk playing on his lips.

“Not exactly. But it pays the bills. It does what I need it to do. And isn't that the point of a job? To help you handle your business? I thought you would understand that more than most. That is unless you wanted to grow up to be part of the mob. I can just see your five-year-old self dreaming of that now,” I said laughing.

“Still have your sense of humor I see. Regardless of what dire situation you are currently in.”

“What's that supposed to mean?” Was he on to me? Was this all a setup from the beginning? I felt my heart race.

“You work at a restaurant Farrah. You have no family, so it seems to me that things were better when you were with mine. Am I right in all of these assumptions?”

I forgot how smug he was when he wanted to be. Especially when he was right.

“Fine you're right, I hate the restaurant. I don't have a lot of friends, and I live in a little studio apartment. But I'm making it. What the hell have you been doing? Do you think that I didn't notice that you've been gone?” I was about to continue but he interrupted me.

“You noticed?”

He smiled at me in a way that made my body ache in all the right places. But that wasn't the job. I needed to stay focused. Even if I did like him playing with my mind a little too much.

“It was in the newspapers. It was hard not to notice your face plastered all over the news when a dead body showed up. I moved to New Jersey, but we still get the news.”

He laughed, “Sounds like you've been keeping tabs on me a little bit more than you’re letting on. Is there a reason for that?”

I felt my heart pounding in my chest just as the waiter walked up to us. Xavier looked at me while he whispered something in Chinese to the waiter, he nodded his head and shuffled off to get our meal. Only a moment later he came back with two small shot glasses and Xavier immediately raised his to me. “To our health, and finding one another again after all this time.”

“To finding one another.” I raised my glass and sniffed it.  He swallowed his and laughed at me. “It's not poison.”

I gave him a look. “I figured as much. What is it?”

“Fireball. I always keep a bottle here. Nice way to unwind before a meal.” I raised an eyebrow at him but lifted the glass to my lips and took the shot. It felt like molten lava flowing down my throat and fire burning in my belly. Of course, he would be drinking fireball. Just like he always had.

“So are you going to tell me why you were in jail?”

“I thought you read all about it.”

“Some. But I’d like to know more.”

“You have a lot of questions. Why is that?”

The waiter brought over our food and another round of shots. I drank it immediately to avoid his question. I needed to play my role better, to be smarter about the questions I was asking. I couldn't let him suspect what I was really doing here. But as we began to eat and continued to drink my resolution faltered. By the fourth round of fireball, we were laughing like old friends and I felt like the questions that we were both ignoring were no longer important. He talked about his family and his friends and everything that we had both missed being away for so long. By the time that dinner had ended I had completely forgotten about my mission. I was falling into him, back into his trap. I was starting to feel the same way about him that I had all those years ago.

I had loved him once. That wasn’t true love, but a teenage crush that had developed into something realer. Part of me wondered if he had claimed me back then. It seemed that he had made his decision about me long ago and this was all just part of his plan.

I knew my endgame, but I didn't know his.

“Do you want me to call you a cab?”

I shook my head. “No. You can take me home.”

He opened the door for me and I got into the car. What was I doing? I wasn't following my plan. This was all happening too fast. All of my planning had become quickly unraveled. And as much as I knew I should slow things down I also wanted them to speed up. It was the fireball, I was sure of it, but that didn't mean that I didn't want him to touch me.

Deep down I wanted his hands on my skin. The ache that had been growing all night between my legs told me to abort the mission. Seek my revenge at a different time. By getting in this car with him I knew what would happen. But that didn't stop me. Instead, it just made me want him even more.

We sat in silence in the car driving the streets of Chicago. We weren’t going toward my apartment, but I didn’t tell him that.

I didn’t care.

I finally had enough waiting and started the conversation again. Patience had never been my strong suit.

The fireball had given me the confidence I needed to ask the real questions. Things I needed answers to.