“I’m assuming from the look on your face it wasn’t somewhere you expected to find her?” What was with all the questions?
Arching an eyebrow, I asked, “What do you mean?”
“You just look slightly amused, and slightly pissed,” He added.
“Well, your daughter is a spitfire. The last thing I expected her to be doing was getting drunk and dancing out on the crowded dance floor.” I expelled a deep breath.
He let out a deep almost contagious laugh—contagious had I had something to laugh about.
“Must’ve gotten that from her mother. She was definitely a get drunk and take off her clothes kind of gal, I remember the one time—“
“No. No. I don’t want to hear about it…” I stopped him with my hands, really not wanting to hear about how Bree came about being made.
“Still, the woman was feisty as hell. She got that from her mother,” he commented smiling at me as his eyes kind of glazed over. I knew that look—he was scouring his mind for the one memory he was most fond of. I did it, too. When I thought of my mother.
“I’m sure she did.” I was never given the chance to meet her mother. Had I met her, would things have been different? I think so...
“You know, you and Bree aren’t that far off from the same kind of people. She’s lost just as much as you have. Maybe you guys could find the happiness missing in your lives through one another. I love her to death, but I don’t think Jared and I loving her will be enough to hold her together…” James’s talked as if he had experience with this whole ordeal. I wasn’t sure I even wanted to ask.
“Well, if it’s not you guys, it can’t just be me,” I said without thinking. There was no way, after everything that had happened that I would be the person to hold her to the earth.
“Give yourself more credit, son. We all make mistakes and have a long past of shit always creeping up on us. You made choices and did things because you had to. Killing John wasn’t easy on you, but losing your mother wasn’t either. You have lost your whole family to death.”
This man knew more about me than I was giving him credit for, and suddenly, I felt something I never had before—fear. Fear of the unexpected— of the future, and for Bree.
“You seem to know a lot about my family...” I blew out an uneasy breath.
Smiling, he said, “Yeah, I used to work for your father. Nothing serious. I never had to bury any bodies. He wasn’t just my boss though; he was my friend, as well. If he were alive now, he would be very proud of you, Alzerro.”
“Proud?” I stuttered over my words. That single word isn’t something my father would’ve spoken. Even at the ripe age of five, I remember him being hard on me. Screaming and pushing me. A five-fucking-year-old kid… Like I knew better.
“Yes, proud, he would’ve loved the young man you hav—”
“That I’ve become? The person he wanted me to be?” I was angry, and as the air filtered into my lungs, I still felt as if I wasn’t getting enough of it.
“Well, yes, in a way…” he added. All I could do was to stare at him, shaking my head. I was overwhelmed with the urgency to slaughter someone or something. Anger wasn’t something I knew how to handle well. Lately, I was never in control, which made my life harder.
“This is the man my father would’ve wanted me to be, I’m sure…” I laughed, except it wasn’t one full of laughter.
“All I meant is he would be proud…”
“Proud of what?” I bit out.
“You. The man you have become. I know your father wasn’t a good man, but he loved your mom. Almost the same as you love Bree.” Dazed and confused by his admission, I sat there shocked slightly… Was it obvious how much I felt for Bree?
“My father loved my mother, but not enough to end his behavior. In the end, he ended up dead.”
“Listen to what you just said carefully…” he mumbled under his breath as he got up and slipped from the room. What was he trying to say?
Bree’s words from the diner lingered in my mind. “Everyone has a choice, Zerro. Everyone has a chance to change things for the better. Your past doesn’t define you, and without a future path outlined, you’re free to do whatever you want.”
It was as if James had known I needed someone to talk to… It was as if he knew my father’s death could’ve been stopped had he made the right choice. Now it was my turn to make the right choice. Letting go of the Mafia was never a choice. They gave you options where I came from, but the more I thought about it, the more I knew I wouldn’t have any other option but to choose…