Beautiful Criminal (Omerta Law 1)

Wiping the blood from my lip, I point to my father.

“You lying son of bitch, we are through, do you hear me! THROUGH!”

“Lie? No, you killed her father. Don’t you remember? You and your brother went with me for a drive, you dug the grave, and Romeo buried the son of a bitch,” he explains and I’m taken back to when I was ten years old that night with my brother.

“Who is this guy anyway?” I ask out of breath. I’m not afraid or scared of what’s happening. I know if this guy is dead, it’s because he’s a bad guy. I know this guy being dead, he brought it on himself. My father always says, “I only hurt those that karma missed. Respect is earned and so is the calling of the Reaper.” Besides, fear isn’t a part of the life I’m built to lead.

Dad gives me a pointed look before removing the cigar from in-between his lips. His suit without a wrinkle, and shoes without a speck of dirt, he is put together like this is another day at the office. I always look anywhere but his eyes, because when I see those dark brown irises it makes my stomach do weird things. The feeling reminds me of when I’m about to do something real dangerous and my stomach gets this sick feeling as if it’s a warning.

“Why’s it gotta be a guy, maybe it’s a woman?” he grumbles, pointing the cherry lit end of this cigar at me. “Just keep digging. Yeah?”

I shake my head, my hand rubbing at my face. I was a fucking kid, he set me up. He set Romeo and I both up. He made sure from the time our testicles dropped that he’d always have one over on us. The muscles in my neck feel like thick rope, my blood is pumping so hard. The one person that is supposed to be there for us by DNA and he isn’t wasn’t from the start. How the hell am I supposed to expect any kind of loyalty out of him through anything else. Clenching my teeth, the incredible urge to slice my ungrateful father’s neck has my teeth near cracking.

I need to find Romeo. I need a fucking drink. Looking up to the window where Leona’s bedroom is, I want to explain myself, tell her how I was just a kid, but it still doesn’t explain her and the goddamn detective.

“You’re dead to me,” I mutter, climbing into my car. I don’t feel darkness, light, or anything. For the first time, I feel alone and empty and just want to be alone.One week laterKieranTaking another pull from the Johnny Walker bottle, I stare out the window, the night sky dull in comparison to the cabin I shared with Leona. Fucking rat. I take another swig and look to Romeo who is sitting on the couch, in his Armani underwear. I point at him, or the two of him, I should say. I’m trashed.

“You are a daddy’s boy now,” I slur. My father doesn’t want me to be the underboss, then fuck him. I want nothing to do with him. I want him gone. I want to be the fucking boss.

His head raises, a glare on his face.

“No. I’m not,” he informs, but he doesn’t seem near as drunk as I do. He wants nothing to do without father. Mr. Emilio thinks Romeo is weak and can be manipulated but that’s because he doesn’t know him like I do. Romeo is strong and violent. Just because he wears his emotions on his sleeve doesn’t mean one should underestimate him.

I point at him with the drink in my hand.

“You should fuck him over, Romeo.” His chest rises as he inhales and he sprawls his arms out on the back of the couch. “He thinks you’re weak, show him who you really are!” My voice raises as I tempt him to manipulate our father.

“You’re trashed,” he observes, and I scoff. I’m fine. I can still feel Leona in my chest and see her in my head. I’m not drunk enough.

A blanket is thrown over me and I stare up at Romeo who is treating me like a bitch.

“Did you seriously just give me a blanket, brother?” I’m supposed to be taking care of him, not the other way around. He laughs and tugs the bottle of whiskey from me.

“I did. Go to sleep, you’re as annoying as a drunk bitch.” He raises a brow and I wave him off and look back out at the city.

I hate it here.

I hate her.LeonaSitting in my purple chair, the fabric so soft I can’t help but think of the cabin, again. The way it was so musty and old. Nothing in that house was this soft. The first few nights I couldn’t even sleep in my bed because it wasn’t the cabin, it was hard, and it wasn’t with Kieran.