Inherent
Chapter Nine
Outside on the sidewalk of what’s supposed to be Lou’s salon, a guy pounds into the cement with a jackhammer. The sound of it was deafening when I passed by it in the car. I had to go around back just to gain access to the place. I have no idea what he’s doing with that, but it can’t be good, and it certainly can’t be cheap either.
Damn. Maybe I really should listen to Miss Teasdale and check in more often like she always tells me to. Renovations commenced weeks ago, and this is the first time I’ve stopped in since they started. She wants me to have more of a hand in the project, to oversee the work being done and make sure everything is going as expected and on schedule. I just dislike all the disorder, chaos which I can’t control. Like that stupid guy with the jackhammer outside. The whole atmosphere reminds me of much more dangerous things, makes me tense, and it stirs feelings in me I don’t much like to revisit.
Today Lou threatened to drag me here if I didn’t go myself—I watch her off to the side while she talks to a guy wearing an orange hard hat, gesturing around the large space with an exuberance only Lou can possess.
And I smile. While I don’t too much like all this commotion right now, I know I’m doing the right thing for Lou. She was the first true friend I made in Chicago when I moved here two years ago. So far, she’s been the only person to stay loyal to me too.
Not to my money.
“What do you have in mind now?” I call over all the racket of construction. I’d take the heavy beat of electronic music at The Castle over this any day.
Loy whirls around and immediately engulfs me into a hug. “You’re late, Styles,” she accuses.
“I got caught up,” I casually wave off my delay.
Caught up in a certain dark haired, cerulean eyed beauty I just today finally convinced into going on a date. With the women I usually hang around, I can’t say I’m used to having a girl play hard to get. Especially how Julia does. It’s so much more than that, though. So fucking much more. For the past several days I’ve tried to figure out how someone can be so broken and jaded yet so utterly innocent. Ultimately I decided that if anything, she is similar to a dark angel. My dark angle… damn it, at least I want her to be mine.
There still aren’t any promises there. I know that too.
“I’m sure you were.” She rolls her eyes, though in a playful manner and with no spite. Lou’s used to me being late.
The guy in the hard hat retreats back to his work at my appearance, and Lou is quick to launch into her imagination of what the place will look like once it’s finished. We walk together for several minutes and I listen to all of her extravagant plans, smirking, my mind still fixated on Julia.
“The tubs will be situated over there, once we get the partition in, and on this side is where the chairs will be. I wish you would have at least looked at the designs, Harry, so you’d know what I’m talking about. I think I want there to be ceiling length mirrors in front of the chairs, definitely.”
Julia isn’t meant to be fixed, not how I like to take fallen businesses and breathe new life into them, make them better, or help people out like I’m helping Lou. I accept that Julia has been made the way she is through immense pain and heartache, and while all I think about is how much I’d like to take that pain away, I know I can’t.
As much as I want to. As much as I cared for her so strangely, so protectively right off the bat, as much as it hurt me to see her display every ounce of her anguish last weekend.
No. I can’t be the man that tries to fix her, because I get the sense that maybe she’s won’t let anyone nearly that far. I’ll try, sure. But all I really want to do is hold her and tell her that she doesn’t have to be alone any longer, having never seen such a beautiful, broken creature. I don’t understand it. I don’t fully understand the extent of her torment, but I know that I care for her already and without doubt. The root of my feelings and attraction to her are still a mystery even to me.
When I found her list I nearly lost it. My temper. I wasn’t angry at her—no, the opposite. It got to the point when I became so overwhelmed by her sadness and grief that I dealt with it through anger. I can hardly remember the things I yelled at her when she brought me to the cemetery. I regret it now, for nearly losing it, but then I saw her and how broken she was, and I just didn’t want her to be sad any longer.
And when I kissed her…
“Harry,” Lou stands on the tips of her toes to look me in the eye, snapping her fingers in my face while she calls my name in a sing-song, chipper tone.
I blink so the images of wild dark hair and red-rimmed blue eyes fade from the forefront of my mind. Her eyes are something else, rarely bright as an unclouded sky and mostly as dark as a chaotic ocean when she’s sad. She’s sad a lot, and all I want to see are those pretty bright blue eyes of hers come to life.
Shit—I blink again.
That’s been happening a lot lately.
“What?” I toss Lou a small smile and a deep chuckle as a means of apology, shaking my head. I’m like a lovesick puppy from just a couple of encounters. A couple of strange as hell encounters, at that.
“And he’s back. I asked what you thought of having all the mirrors running along this wall,” she says, nearly dancing in excitement, and I’m sure now that I’ve made the right decision. Lou deserves at least this much and more, especially from how far she’s come since we’ve met.
Yes, she deserves this.
“Mirrors along the wall sounds like a great idea,” I repeat her vision just so she knows that I’m finally listening, and her eyes light up at my agreement. It doesn’t matter to her that I told her she can do whatever she wants with the remodeling. She wants my input, and I just go along with whatever she feels like. I squint at the opaque, cracked up brick wall that’s soon going to be repaired, and I try to picture the old building finished and looking pretty. I have a hard time with it, but I know my friend has it all planned out to the last detail. “Bring it up with the designers. I’m sure they can work it in. Tell them to call me if there are any issues.”
“Awesome! I have to go!” Grin intensifying, Lou leans forward to plant a kiss to my cheek before she runs off toward the back of the building. To call the designers, I presume. I have to laugh at her eagerness.
Then, like I should have predicted, my phone sets off with its usual annoying ringtone from within my pants pocket. I sigh in frustration. All day I’ve been getting calls from The Castle’s manager about some vandalism on the side of the building.
Whoever put it there obviously doesn’t know who owns the place.
So of course I haven’t really been in the best mood all day. My legs ache to go for a run to release all of my built up frustrations, the only healthy outlet I’ve managed to keep for all my anger, but I won’t be able to have such a luxury today. I’ve got too much shit to take care of. The only thing that lifted my spirits has been my lunchtime surprise visit at the book store to see Julia.
She and the anticipation of our date on Friday is the only thing that’s keeping me from marching out and punching the idiot with the jackhammer square in the jaw.
For a solid moment I contemplate just ignoring the caller, certain it’s business related and something that will only intensify my irritation. It continues to ring just like I knew it would, incessant. With a huff, I think of Julia while I yank the phone from my slacks and try to rein in my temper.
She doesn’t really know it, of course, but she’s perhaps the only person who can calm me when I’m like this. And she’s not even here. I think of how I already have an idea of what I want to do on Friday. Since she’s already shown me so many vulnerable aspects of her life, I want to open up to her, too. I may not be able to let her see anything incriminating, but it’s something I hope she’ll appreciate as much as I do. I’ve never done that for a girl before. The girls I’ve been with in the past wouldn’t be interested in this, and I never cared for them even close to how I do with Julia.
Without checking the caller I.D., I answer with unrestrained impatience. “What?” I demand, gruff and loud, and am only half aware of the construction workers vigilantly steering clear of me and my anger. It’s probably smart of them.
“Now that’s no way to greet your favorite uncle is it, sonny boy?” For just a second I pause, almost shocked to hear my Uncle Joe’s voice on the other end of the phone, and I know straight away that this can’t be good.
Joe himself is trouble. I can’t wait to hear what snake he’s got up his sleeve now.
“Nice to hear from you, Joe.” It pains me to lower my voice and sound hopefully pleasant, and finally I make my way through the back door so I can speak to him in privacy. Who knows what we’ll get into or what will be rehashed during this conversation.
Joe only calls when he wants something or when I’ve fucked up. At least that much is a guarantee.
“I haven’t seen you in over a year…” Joe trails off. From how dumbstruck he sounds, he’s either drunk or shocked or both. Most likely both. It’s obvious he’s only now recalled my absence, and I’m not surprised.
“Yeah, things have been quiet,” I say, trying to avoid the reason for my long absence. “Listen, Joe, I don’t have much time to talk.”
“Alright, calm down. I know you’re not fond of your dear old uncle. I’ll get on with it.” As much as I try to hide it, my dislike for the reckless son of a bitch has always been clear and obvious. If he weren’t my father’s brother, I would have steered clear of him long ago.
“Come on then,” I press after several seconds pass and all I hear is the rustling of paper in the background. I roll my eyes. What the hell he doing? He knows I’m not one to fuck about, and he’s probably only taking this long to get a rise out of me. I remember that, and I try to stay calm. Settling against the gritty stone wall of what will be The Orange Room, I bite my tongue and wait.
“I’ve got a start up in the works,” Joe says, abruptly sounding out of breath. This must be exciting to him, while it’s vomit-inducing to me. I tense at this. Shit. “Once I get the kinks worked out, I want you down here to oversee the operation.”
“Down in Nevada?” I clarify in disbelief. Shit, shit, shit. This definitely isn’t good.
“Yes, Harry, in Nevada,” he replies, slow and as if he’s speaking to a child. He’s always patronized me like this. It pisses me off, and Joes knows it. “This one should be clean. No grunt work for you this time.”
Yes there will. The only time he wants me involved is when he doesn’t want to get his own hands dirty, that and he knows I’m always careful in everything I do. Careful and controlled.
What’s worse is that I haven’t been back to Nevada in a long time. I’ve been out of the business for over a year now. Joe knows that I’ve been staying in Chicago, but he doesn’t know that my father allowed me out of the club life to peruse my own endeavours. Joe must have gone all this time clueless, thinking they haven’t given me a job since my last one here in Chicago went sour.
It’s almost comical to think that my father has left him in the dark for so long. His second in command. Right.
But I can’t tell Joe that. That would unleash a whole other chain of unpleasant events.
“No job is ever clean,” I say, bland. Especially one of yours.
This doesn’t change anything. I’ll always have Chicago—Dad promised me that last year, but I of all people know not to take his word for it. I won’t, either. I’ll fight for the safety net I’ve created here, and I sure as hell won’t bend to my asshole uncle’s whim.
“You of all people would know that, huh Harry?”
My response is instinctual—the harsh intake of air, followed by a string of curse words aimed at Joe. Anger pulses through my chest, prodding me on like a searing hot stick and I launch off the wall, the muscles in my arms tensed and ready to strike. On the other line, I hear Joe laughing.
Yes, I gave him the exact response he was looking for, but I can’t help it. Not today, of all days. Not when I’m already angry enough as it stands. The bastard is just adding fuel to the fire. Fuck, I need to run.
Finally, I try to calm my furious impulse to hit something—the brick wall behind me in particular, and I breathe heavily with the phone pulled away from my ear. I won’t give Joe any more satisfaction that he’s already gotten. He has a lot of nerve to bring it up, the mess he started himself that I ultimately had to clean for him. It was the only job I’ve ever been involved where I’ve gotten screwed over, and it’s the last.
It isn’t smart to let my feelings get to me at a time like this, so I compose myself as best I can and all but smash my phone back to the side of my face. I talk with a carefully controlled tone, anger seeping in between each word. “Before you do anything stupid, run the details by Des. Then we’ll go from there.”
He won’t share anything with me over the phone call, and I’m sure as hell not going to run down to Nevada to find out first. No, I’ll let Dad deal with him. He sighs in impatience, condescending air vanished. “I need this quick, Harry. I’m short on cash.”
“Not my problem,” I snap and glare at the brick wall, my free hand fisted and itching to land a punch. “Talk to Des first.”
A beat of silence passes, thick and poignant with unsettled matters. I want to curse him out but I can’t, and that only serves to piss me off even more. Through the phone I can almost feel Joe’s annoyance with me. “I’ll talk to you again soon, sonny boy,” Joe pauses, as if to let the annoyance of being called sonny boy again seep in. “This isn’t over.”
The line goes dead and I stand there outside Lou’s salon, motionless until the irritating dial tone starts. I drop my arm in defeat, phone held loose in my hand, and I groan while I throw my head back to rest against the wall.
If I’ve learned nothing else in my five years of knowing my dear old Uncle Joe, it’s that he’s an unpredictable, stubborn bastard. Last year proved that much to me, and I know for certain that he won’t let this go. The last thing I want is for him to learn the reason behind my absence, my leave, my freedom. Joe’s radical, stuck in the past, and he won’t be happy to hear I’ve ditched the ‘family business.’
Maybe Dad will help me find a way out of Joe’s mess, though I don’t count on him either. In their world, while they look at each other as brothers, trust is hard to come by. Even father to son, uncle to nephew. It might be because I’ve only known them for a few years, or maybe because I believe my father to have more of an alliance with his brother than he does to me, but I know I’ll have to solve this on my own.
No, I don’t want to tell Joe yet that I won’t go back to Nevada, especially not for a job. Knowing him it’s dangerous, and although for a long time I enjoyed that lifestyle, of having such power, of living life on a constant adrenaline rush, what happened last year was the final straw for me. Last year I saw a much dirtier side of the business, one of which I never wanted to get caught up in.
I like how I run things here in Chicago now.
Legal.
Plus, I have that date with Julia on Friday night. Just the thought of her sends a wave of calm through my system and I relax against the wall. I remember her back at the nursing home, vulnerable and sad and desperate to give me a reason to go away. All I saw was more of a reason to stay, and now after I think I’ve finally gotten through to her, that I care for her perhaps more than she realizes and more than I want to admit, I refuse to disappoint her.
Joe will have to wait
Damn. Maybe I really should listen to Miss Teasdale and check in more often like she always tells me to. Renovations commenced weeks ago, and this is the first time I’ve stopped in since they started. She wants me to have more of a hand in the project, to oversee the work being done and make sure everything is going as expected and on schedule. I just dislike all the disorder, chaos which I can’t control. Like that stupid guy with the jackhammer outside. The whole atmosphere reminds me of much more dangerous things, makes me tense, and it stirs feelings in me I don’t much like to revisit.
Today Lou threatened to drag me here if I didn’t go myself—I watch her off to the side while she talks to a guy wearing an orange hard hat, gesturing around the large space with an exuberance only Lou can possess.
And I smile. While I don’t too much like all this commotion right now, I know I’m doing the right thing for Lou. She was the first true friend I made in Chicago when I moved here two years ago. So far, she’s been the only person to stay loyal to me too.
Not to my money.
“What do you have in mind now?” I call over all the racket of construction. I’d take the heavy beat of electronic music at The Castle over this any day.
Loy whirls around and immediately engulfs me into a hug. “You’re late, Styles,” she accuses.
“I got caught up,” I casually wave off my delay.
Caught up in a certain dark haired, cerulean eyed beauty I just today finally convinced into going on a date. With the women I usually hang around, I can’t say I’m used to having a girl play hard to get. Especially how Julia does. It’s so much more than that, though. So fucking much more. For the past several days I’ve tried to figure out how someone can be so broken and jaded yet so utterly innocent. Ultimately I decided that if anything, she is similar to a dark angel. My dark angle… damn it, at least I want her to be mine.
There still aren’t any promises there. I know that too.
“I’m sure you were.” She rolls her eyes, though in a playful manner and with no spite. Lou’s used to me being late.
The guy in the hard hat retreats back to his work at my appearance, and Lou is quick to launch into her imagination of what the place will look like once it’s finished. We walk together for several minutes and I listen to all of her extravagant plans, smirking, my mind still fixated on Julia.
“The tubs will be situated over there, once we get the partition in, and on this side is where the chairs will be. I wish you would have at least looked at the designs, Harry, so you’d know what I’m talking about. I think I want there to be ceiling length mirrors in front of the chairs, definitely.”
Julia isn’t meant to be fixed, not how I like to take fallen businesses and breathe new life into them, make them better, or help people out like I’m helping Lou. I accept that Julia has been made the way she is through immense pain and heartache, and while all I think about is how much I’d like to take that pain away, I know I can’t.
As much as I want to. As much as I cared for her so strangely, so protectively right off the bat, as much as it hurt me to see her display every ounce of her anguish last weekend.
No. I can’t be the man that tries to fix her, because I get the sense that maybe she’s won’t let anyone nearly that far. I’ll try, sure. But all I really want to do is hold her and tell her that she doesn’t have to be alone any longer, having never seen such a beautiful, broken creature. I don’t understand it. I don’t fully understand the extent of her torment, but I know that I care for her already and without doubt. The root of my feelings and attraction to her are still a mystery even to me.
When I found her list I nearly lost it. My temper. I wasn’t angry at her—no, the opposite. It got to the point when I became so overwhelmed by her sadness and grief that I dealt with it through anger. I can hardly remember the things I yelled at her when she brought me to the cemetery. I regret it now, for nearly losing it, but then I saw her and how broken she was, and I just didn’t want her to be sad any longer.
And when I kissed her…
“Harry,” Lou stands on the tips of her toes to look me in the eye, snapping her fingers in my face while she calls my name in a sing-song, chipper tone.
I blink so the images of wild dark hair and red-rimmed blue eyes fade from the forefront of my mind. Her eyes are something else, rarely bright as an unclouded sky and mostly as dark as a chaotic ocean when she’s sad. She’s sad a lot, and all I want to see are those pretty bright blue eyes of hers come to life.
Shit—I blink again.
That’s been happening a lot lately.
“What?” I toss Lou a small smile and a deep chuckle as a means of apology, shaking my head. I’m like a lovesick puppy from just a couple of encounters. A couple of strange as hell encounters, at that.
“And he’s back. I asked what you thought of having all the mirrors running along this wall,” she says, nearly dancing in excitement, and I’m sure now that I’ve made the right decision. Lou deserves at least this much and more, especially from how far she’s come since we’ve met.
Yes, she deserves this.
“Mirrors along the wall sounds like a great idea,” I repeat her vision just so she knows that I’m finally listening, and her eyes light up at my agreement. It doesn’t matter to her that I told her she can do whatever she wants with the remodeling. She wants my input, and I just go along with whatever she feels like. I squint at the opaque, cracked up brick wall that’s soon going to be repaired, and I try to picture the old building finished and looking pretty. I have a hard time with it, but I know my friend has it all planned out to the last detail. “Bring it up with the designers. I’m sure they can work it in. Tell them to call me if there are any issues.”
“Awesome! I have to go!” Grin intensifying, Lou leans forward to plant a kiss to my cheek before she runs off toward the back of the building. To call the designers, I presume. I have to laugh at her eagerness.
Then, like I should have predicted, my phone sets off with its usual annoying ringtone from within my pants pocket. I sigh in frustration. All day I’ve been getting calls from The Castle’s manager about some vandalism on the side of the building.
Whoever put it there obviously doesn’t know who owns the place.
So of course I haven’t really been in the best mood all day. My legs ache to go for a run to release all of my built up frustrations, the only healthy outlet I’ve managed to keep for all my anger, but I won’t be able to have such a luxury today. I’ve got too much shit to take care of. The only thing that lifted my spirits has been my lunchtime surprise visit at the book store to see Julia.
She and the anticipation of our date on Friday is the only thing that’s keeping me from marching out and punching the idiot with the jackhammer square in the jaw.
For a solid moment I contemplate just ignoring the caller, certain it’s business related and something that will only intensify my irritation. It continues to ring just like I knew it would, incessant. With a huff, I think of Julia while I yank the phone from my slacks and try to rein in my temper.
She doesn’t really know it, of course, but she’s perhaps the only person who can calm me when I’m like this. And she’s not even here. I think of how I already have an idea of what I want to do on Friday. Since she’s already shown me so many vulnerable aspects of her life, I want to open up to her, too. I may not be able to let her see anything incriminating, but it’s something I hope she’ll appreciate as much as I do. I’ve never done that for a girl before. The girls I’ve been with in the past wouldn’t be interested in this, and I never cared for them even close to how I do with Julia.
Without checking the caller I.D., I answer with unrestrained impatience. “What?” I demand, gruff and loud, and am only half aware of the construction workers vigilantly steering clear of me and my anger. It’s probably smart of them.
“Now that’s no way to greet your favorite uncle is it, sonny boy?” For just a second I pause, almost shocked to hear my Uncle Joe’s voice on the other end of the phone, and I know straight away that this can’t be good.
Joe himself is trouble. I can’t wait to hear what snake he’s got up his sleeve now.
“Nice to hear from you, Joe.” It pains me to lower my voice and sound hopefully pleasant, and finally I make my way through the back door so I can speak to him in privacy. Who knows what we’ll get into or what will be rehashed during this conversation.
Joe only calls when he wants something or when I’ve fucked up. At least that much is a guarantee.
“I haven’t seen you in over a year…” Joe trails off. From how dumbstruck he sounds, he’s either drunk or shocked or both. Most likely both. It’s obvious he’s only now recalled my absence, and I’m not surprised.
“Yeah, things have been quiet,” I say, trying to avoid the reason for my long absence. “Listen, Joe, I don’t have much time to talk.”
“Alright, calm down. I know you’re not fond of your dear old uncle. I’ll get on with it.” As much as I try to hide it, my dislike for the reckless son of a bitch has always been clear and obvious. If he weren’t my father’s brother, I would have steered clear of him long ago.
“Come on then,” I press after several seconds pass and all I hear is the rustling of paper in the background. I roll my eyes. What the hell he doing? He knows I’m not one to fuck about, and he’s probably only taking this long to get a rise out of me. I remember that, and I try to stay calm. Settling against the gritty stone wall of what will be The Orange Room, I bite my tongue and wait.
“I’ve got a start up in the works,” Joe says, abruptly sounding out of breath. This must be exciting to him, while it’s vomit-inducing to me. I tense at this. Shit. “Once I get the kinks worked out, I want you down here to oversee the operation.”
“Down in Nevada?” I clarify in disbelief. Shit, shit, shit. This definitely isn’t good.
“Yes, Harry, in Nevada,” he replies, slow and as if he’s speaking to a child. He’s always patronized me like this. It pisses me off, and Joes knows it. “This one should be clean. No grunt work for you this time.”
Yes there will. The only time he wants me involved is when he doesn’t want to get his own hands dirty, that and he knows I’m always careful in everything I do. Careful and controlled.
What’s worse is that I haven’t been back to Nevada in a long time. I’ve been out of the business for over a year now. Joe knows that I’ve been staying in Chicago, but he doesn’t know that my father allowed me out of the club life to peruse my own endeavours. Joe must have gone all this time clueless, thinking they haven’t given me a job since my last one here in Chicago went sour.
It’s almost comical to think that my father has left him in the dark for so long. His second in command. Right.
But I can’t tell Joe that. That would unleash a whole other chain of unpleasant events.
“No job is ever clean,” I say, bland. Especially one of yours.
This doesn’t change anything. I’ll always have Chicago—Dad promised me that last year, but I of all people know not to take his word for it. I won’t, either. I’ll fight for the safety net I’ve created here, and I sure as hell won’t bend to my asshole uncle’s whim.
“You of all people would know that, huh Harry?”
My response is instinctual—the harsh intake of air, followed by a string of curse words aimed at Joe. Anger pulses through my chest, prodding me on like a searing hot stick and I launch off the wall, the muscles in my arms tensed and ready to strike. On the other line, I hear Joe laughing.
Yes, I gave him the exact response he was looking for, but I can’t help it. Not today, of all days. Not when I’m already angry enough as it stands. The bastard is just adding fuel to the fire. Fuck, I need to run.
Finally, I try to calm my furious impulse to hit something—the brick wall behind me in particular, and I breathe heavily with the phone pulled away from my ear. I won’t give Joe any more satisfaction that he’s already gotten. He has a lot of nerve to bring it up, the mess he started himself that I ultimately had to clean for him. It was the only job I’ve ever been involved where I’ve gotten screwed over, and it’s the last.
It isn’t smart to let my feelings get to me at a time like this, so I compose myself as best I can and all but smash my phone back to the side of my face. I talk with a carefully controlled tone, anger seeping in between each word. “Before you do anything stupid, run the details by Des. Then we’ll go from there.”
He won’t share anything with me over the phone call, and I’m sure as hell not going to run down to Nevada to find out first. No, I’ll let Dad deal with him. He sighs in impatience, condescending air vanished. “I need this quick, Harry. I’m short on cash.”
“Not my problem,” I snap and glare at the brick wall, my free hand fisted and itching to land a punch. “Talk to Des first.”
A beat of silence passes, thick and poignant with unsettled matters. I want to curse him out but I can’t, and that only serves to piss me off even more. Through the phone I can almost feel Joe’s annoyance with me. “I’ll talk to you again soon, sonny boy,” Joe pauses, as if to let the annoyance of being called sonny boy again seep in. “This isn’t over.”
The line goes dead and I stand there outside Lou’s salon, motionless until the irritating dial tone starts. I drop my arm in defeat, phone held loose in my hand, and I groan while I throw my head back to rest against the wall.
If I’ve learned nothing else in my five years of knowing my dear old Uncle Joe, it’s that he’s an unpredictable, stubborn bastard. Last year proved that much to me, and I know for certain that he won’t let this go. The last thing I want is for him to learn the reason behind my absence, my leave, my freedom. Joe’s radical, stuck in the past, and he won’t be happy to hear I’ve ditched the ‘family business.’
Maybe Dad will help me find a way out of Joe’s mess, though I don’t count on him either. In their world, while they look at each other as brothers, trust is hard to come by. Even father to son, uncle to nephew. It might be because I’ve only known them for a few years, or maybe because I believe my father to have more of an alliance with his brother than he does to me, but I know I’ll have to solve this on my own.
No, I don’t want to tell Joe yet that I won’t go back to Nevada, especially not for a job. Knowing him it’s dangerous, and although for a long time I enjoyed that lifestyle, of having such power, of living life on a constant adrenaline rush, what happened last year was the final straw for me. Last year I saw a much dirtier side of the business, one of which I never wanted to get caught up in.
I like how I run things here in Chicago now.
Legal.
Plus, I have that date with Julia on Friday night. Just the thought of her sends a wave of calm through my system and I relax against the wall. I remember her back at the nursing home, vulnerable and sad and desperate to give me a reason to go away. All I saw was more of a reason to stay, and now after I think I’ve finally gotten through to her, that I care for her perhaps more than she realizes and more than I want to admit, I refuse to disappoint her.
Joe will have to wait
hey where have you been hun? im just checking up cause you've been gone so long, also was wondering if you will finish this fic or not :D sorry for bothering you, hope you have a nice day :) x
6/20/16