Filthy: A Mafia Romance

I forced myself to stop and take a minute to regain my composure. I was pissed at the police, but it wasn’t their fault. They were just doing their job and I reasoned that it was better than waking up and going to the shop the next morning to find it nothing but ashes.

“Jesus Christ,” Jessie finally said. She sounded numb—in shock maybe. God knew I’d been there just a second ago. Or maybe I still was. “It’s burning?”

I nodded, then remembered I was talking on the phone. Rubbing at the bridge of my nose, I leaned my forehead against the wall. “Yeah. Burning. Or maybe they’ve stopped it by now, I don’t know. The point is…” For a second I couldn’t remember what the damn point was. “Cody. The point is I have to go down to the police station and talk to them. But Cody has school in the morning and—”

“Say no more,” Jessie interrupted. “I’ve got you. I’ll head over now. Bruce has been good lately. I’ll bet he’ll even start for me without an issue.”

She was being forcibly chipper, which I appreciated. “When are you going to replace that piece of crap?” I teased. Bruce was her car, a beat up old junker that probably wouldn’t fetch a hundred dollars in scrap and was worth less than the monthly insurance on it. It was the main reason I gave Jessie a ride every morning, other than carpool and saving the environment. Crap that suddenly seemed so utterly stupid given my situation.

“Next paycheck,” she said, the chipper tone dropping from her voice. It was the same thing she always said, but suddenly reality wasn’t making that very funny anymore.

I wasn’t sure if there would be another paycheck.

“I’ll be there in ten.”

“Thanks,” I told her.

We hung up and I let myself slide down the wall to the floor. I slumped there and thought very seriously about letting myself cry my eyes out. Then I remembered I was an adult woman. I didn’t have time for crap like that. And, besides, I was strong. I would take whatever life threw my way and deal with it.

“Yeah, right,” I muttered. I let myself cry for a whole minute, then I got up off the floor and headed to the bathroom. I had a few minutes to get cleaned up. Might as well look decent for the police, since I wasn’t leaving before Jessie got here.

# # #

I was dressed like it was a normal workday—fashionable black jeans, a button down blouse, and a pair of stylish boots that cost me about ten bucks at a discount store because the brand name was misspelled inside —and had my hair piled on my head in a halfway decent twist when Jessie showed up. She knocked once, then poked her head inside.

“Diana?” she called in a half whisper.

I hurried to the door, grabbing my purse on the way. Her expression was one hundred percent genuine sympathy as she stepped the rest of the way into the apartment. “Oh, honey,” she said, then pulled me into an embrace.

I took half a second to squeeze her tight, then pulled away before she set me off crying again. One minute. That was all the crying I was allowed this morning. “Thanks for coming by,” I told her gratefully.

She lifted one corner of her mouth up in a smile. “Of course. I’ll make sure Cody gets to school.”

I thanked her again. “I don’t know how long I’ll be, but take the day off. I have a feeling The Cut isn’t going to be open for business today.”

Her shoulders slumped, but she nodded. “How bad is it?” she asked timidly.

I shook my head. “Honestly, I don’t know yet. I’ll get ahold of you as soon as I know what’s going on.”

She nodded, then waved as I headed to my car.

I drove to the station in a daze, more going through the motions than anything else, but I was aware of one thing: if I found out Ethan Chambers had anything to do with this, I’d kill him. With my bare hands. Strangle him, shoot him, throw him off a cliff, whatever it took. I’d make him pay for this.

When I arrived at the police station, as requested by the officer on the phone, it was pretty dead. There were obviously a few officers on duty, but it was early enough in the morning that I’d arrived at that sweet spot between the craziness of the night and the beginning of a new day.

Hurrying up the steps, I went in through the front door to find a couple of people waiting in the lobby and a woman at the front desk. I headed right to her.

“Hello, I’m Diana Leone. The owner of The Cut? I was told to come down…”