Honored_ An Alpha Mob Romance(8)

I had never run from someone like that before. For a second there, I had genuinely feared for my life. I had no clue what that guy would have done if he had caught me, and I was glad he hadn’t.

I shook my head. I would have to alter my dog-walking route for a while, at the very least. That, or risk those guys seeing me again. Briefly, I wondered if I should call the cops, but what would I have told them? I couldn’t really describe the men I had seen very well, and it wasn’t like they’d still be there. As the kettle boiled, I decided it was best if I just forgot about the whole thing.

Maybe that guy didn’t mean me any harm at all, and I overreacted. Maybe he just wanted to explain what they were doing, and it was a totally innocent misunderstanding. As I poured the hot water into a mug, I decided that was what happened. I dropped a bag of mint tea into the hot water and let it steep, remembering the slap the packages had made on the muddy-brown river water.

Petey looked at me quizzically, and I smiled at him.

It was over. Things would go back to normal. I could forget that guy and move on. At least it was a good story I could tell people in the future.

I sipped my tea and smiled, laughing at how stupid I was to run like that.





Chapter Three: Liam


Every morning was more or less the same: I picked the kid up at his mom’s house, hoping that nothing had happened overnight, I drove him to school, dropped him off, and then I headed out to my territory. Day in and day out, like punching the clock at some regular-ass job.

Except there was nothing regular or normal about what I did.

I pulled around back behind my place and stopped my truck at the end of the alley. I cut the engine and climbed out, stretching.

My place was one of the best pub spots in all of south Philly, at least in my humble opinion. It may have been a front for laundering my less-than-legal business transactions, but I made sure to take at least a little pride in it. Some guys had Laundromats that stank of urine, and some guys ran delis with disgusting meat, but not me. I made sure to keep my beer list fresh, my menu delicious, and my décor modern. The hipsters loved my shit, and they had no clue that they were buying their overpriced beer from a violent mobster. I loved looking out over my place on busy nights at the rich kids in their trendy glasses, wondering how many of them would run screaming if they knew who I was and what I did.

I pushed through the back door and into the kitchen.

“Morning, boss,” Luis said, looking up from prepping for lunch.

“Morning,” I grunted back.

Luis ran the kitchen and wasn’t involved in the shady part of my business. Like all my other workers, he probably had a pretty good idea about what went on, but I paid him well and he kept his mouth shut and did his job, which was exactly what I looked for in an employee.

I nodded to the other kitchen guys and pushed out into the main room.

“Morning, Liam,” Colin said.

“Morning,” I said, walking behind the bar and pouring myself a coffee.

Colin was my number two, although that didn’t mean much. I controlled a good-sized neighborhood near where my restaurant was located, which meant that I was tasked with selling the drugs, protecting the businesses, and extorting anyone who refused to pay. Sometimes we broke knees, and sometimes we just threatened. Overall, my territory was clean and easy, but mostly because I worked to keep it that way.

In terms of the overall Mob’s structure, I was middle management. Colin was one of many up-and-coming young guys, stepping into spaces left by the older generation that had either run off or been killed during the chaos of the past month. I didn’t know much about him, but he had come highly recommended. I had no clue how he had gotten the promotion to my second, but he was a decent worker.

And I didn’t trust him. Not one tiny bit.

Colin was about my height and strong. His dark hair was kept short, and he typically wore the same uniform of a button-down shirt and loose-fitting chino pants. He said he liked to look professional when he collected the take from the junkie dealers we employed.

Personally, I didn’t give a shit what he looked like. I was more worried about the knife he was inevitably going to try to slip into my back.

That was how you lived when you began to climb the ranks. One eye open all the time, even if you weren’t one of the top bosses.

I sat down at the bar, taking a sip of the coffee and letting the caffeine hit my veins. The hot, bitter taste felt great and woke me up. I looked over at Colin, and he was idly flipping through his smartphone.

“What’s on the menu?”

He shrugged. “Luis got something.”

I nodded and sipped my coffee.

“You seeing Brink today?”

Colin nodded. “Take goes up.”