Page 23 of Damaged Beast
“Love is possession. It’s taking someone and giving them all of you in return. It’s a commitment and a promise. I don’t have time for love right now.”
“That’s sad.”
“Are you sure?” She stands abruptly, clearing her throat and brushing herself off. She holds the binder in front of her like a shield. “Anyway, I have enough. I’ll talk to Valentina and figure out all the rest of it soon.”
“Of course.” I sit back, wishing I could pull her down into my lap, but as soon as the idea slices into my skull like a hot knife I have to force it away.Valentinais my future bride.
Deanna works for me, that’s all. She’s a pain in my ass, much too uptight, always judgmental, and far too naive. Whether her pussy tastes like heaven and her moans sound like angelsong is entirely irrelevant.
“Make sure you’re ready.” She walks to the door and leaves.
I force myself not to watch her ass. The door clicks shut and I lean my head back, following the line of a crack in the ceiling, wondering how many more people I’ll ruin to get what I want and if all this suffering will be worth the blood in the end.
CHAPTER 10
PRIME
It’s one thing to have a drink before your own wedding. I figure men since the dawn of time have tossed back some fermented sugar bullshit to help fortify them for the coming vows.
But usually there are friends and family around.
It’s not a drink in some depressing room entirely alone.
Maybe getting hitched is making me reflect too much. I look back on my years and they’re bleak. My childhood is a series of foster families, state-run orphanages, and long months spent on the street. I knew people, but never had many friends, at least until I got older.
I met Shawn on a perfect Tuesday afternoon. He punched me in the face and stole my shoes. Later that night, I beat him while he was still asleep, wrapped my hands around his throat, and told him that if he ever touched my shit again, he wouldn’t wake up next time. We were as close as anyone gets in our world after that.
Shawn showed me the ropes. Every foster family’s got quirks, and ours was no different. They gathered lost urchins like fucking toys, jamming them into bunks and collecting the state payments. When the inspections rolled around, we made damn sure everything looked spotless, otherwise Old Man Fuckface (I can’t remember his real name anymore) would go to town on everyone with his belt while Old Lady Fuckface shouted insults. Shawn taught me how to scrub, how to bleach, how to comb my hair and smile real sweet for the inspector girl, and if we did all that, we were left alone.
We got into trouble, obviously. I found the crews and Shawn came with me. In those days it was mostly gambling and underground street fights. We helped take bets and after a while we were trusted enough to touch actual money. We took home more cash than we ever imagined, and I only got stabbed once. I don’t know how, but I must’ve caught the eye of Augustus Fontana, because his people started inviting me to small jobs in the area. Shit like knocking over liquor stores and intimidating drunks late on their interest payments.
Shawn was the only guy I ever trusted. Aside from that first day, he never betrayed me, never let me down, and never judged. We went through hell together.
If he were still here, I’d have him sitting by my side, drinking my best bourbon, and telling stories about the old days. Maybe we’d laugh about that shit now, who knows.
Instead, I got an empty room and a bottle and not much else.
Stellan offered to be my best man but that was never a realistic option. The leader of the Corsetti Mafia can’t get involved in a marriage service, not without raising a few eyebrows and getting comments from the other Capos.
Which leaves me stewing in my own frustrated misery, not even sure why I’m so angry. I’m getting married to a good woman, a smart, independent, strong woman, fucking beautiful too, and I don’t deserve her in the slightest. I should be down on my knees thanking God for Valentina.
Instead, my stomach’s a wreck whenever I think about her.
There’s a knock at the door. I grunt and Deanna enters, a pen tucked behind her ear, that stupid clipboard back. “How are you holding up?” Her gaze settles on my drink. “Don’t tell me you’re drunk already, Prime?”
“Sober as a judge.” I take a long sip. “Most judges I know are notorious drunks and bastards, by the way.”
She looks down at her notes, visibly trying not to get annoyed. “Guests are arriving. Ceremony starts in a half hour. They’re passing food and drinks right now. You should probably consider going out there.”
“Probably,” I agree.
“Valentina’s still getting dressed. She looks amazing, by the way. If you insist on hiding in here, I’ll send someone to get you when it’s time.”
“You know where to find me then.”
“Aren’t you interested in your wedding at all?”
“Not particularly.” I wiggle the bottle at her. “Want some? It’s the good stuff. I know you worked hard. You earned a double shot.”
