Page 39 of Playing for the Dark
I would bet my yearly salary on Mr. Barone being Ellie’s stalker. I haven’t shared that little tidbit with anyone yet, trying to save it for the right time. This little planof mine is coming together seamlessly. I know Marcello will at least keep her safe when we’re not here due to our away game schedule. She’s quickly taking up all the space in this head of mine, and the little bit that she’s not occupying, the scared rookie leaning against me is occupying.
Nash still looks stunned when I bring up his dad or my family ties, but I think he may be coming to terms with his dad not being as good as he thought he was. They’re from El Paso, and with it being a border town and his dad being a cop, his pockets are for sure lined with so much blood money you couldn’t even count it.
It’s always world-altering to find out your parents are shittier than you think they are, but he needed to understand not all “good people” are good people.And that includes family.
Who trains their ten year old how to be a sharpshooter? Mafia, cops, military, or some mix of those… and maybe a hillbilly or two. I bet his dad is mixed up in some deep shit and was making sure he would be okay if they ever got attacked, or his dumbass got into deep shit and got killed; Nash could take care of his sister. I promise I’m not a conspiracy theorist, but I’ve been around long enough to know a dirty cop, and his dad reeks of filth. I don’t even have to talk to the man to know. The stories alone from Nash have been plenty and are just enraging me the more they bounce around in this head of mine.
The only good thing that has come out of this is I can take his ass to the range to see him show off his sharpshooting. The range I go to is almost like a tactical course and even has a mile-long practice area. Some of the best shooters can’t hit anything on that one. I’m deadly with a close shot like most, but I’m pretty good at distance, too. It’s just not my favorite. Too many factors go into it. “I’m taking you to the range soon. See how good you really are,” I tell him. His face lights up with more excitement than I’ve ever seen out of him. “I bet I can win.”
“I bet the fuck you can’t,” he spits in his hand, sticking it out for me to shake. What in the hell is wrong with him? “What’s the winner get?”
I question pointing at his spit on hand. “Is this some kind of college kid trend? And whatever the winner wants in the bedroom is the prize.” I’m still looking at his outreached hand in disgust. What he doesn’t know is this is going to be a win-win no matter the outcome.
“What, you afraid of my spit? Your cock wasn’t, and neither was that mouth of yours the other day.” This little fucker has a mouth on him.
I shake his hand before quickly changing the subject to distract him. It’s mid-afternoon on Friday, and I know our favorite bartender has a shift tonight. I plan on stopping by before we have to load up onto the team plane and head to Florida for our first away game on Sunday. I randomly ask Nash, “You want to go to Shenanigansbefore we leave?” He looks up over his shoulder with the biggest doe eyes, looking so scared. “I promise I won’t let Marcello hurt you. He looks scarier than he really is.” That’s a little brush over; the man is a fucking machine. No feelings for almost anything or anyone.
Besides one.
Ellie.
We happen to be bringing her happiness, and I know he won’t hurt who’s doing that for her. I have a feeling if anyone can bring that man to his knees, it’s going to be her.
For any other person, being here at five o’clock on a Friday evening would be completely normal behavior. But we sure as hell don’t need to be at a bar right before we’re about to get on the plane to leave with the team… but here we are. I’m enjoying a scotch, and Nash has a beer. He’s grinning like a fool from finally being able to see Ellie, and all I catch myself doing is admiring the veins covering his hands. He’s been keeping his distance this week, even after I told him not to worry about Marcello.
It’s dead in here, thank fuck. We’ve been able to talk to her while she does the more mundane tasks aroundthe bar.1She has her playlist going through the bar speakers, and one of Sleep Token’s songs is blasting. I will give her that; her music taste is superior. The coworker that was supposed to be working with her isn’t here tonight—something about her being sick. All I can think about is dragging her back to the office that she fixed me up in the last time and bending her over that desk, fucking her senseless. While I have Nash in the corner watching, preferably.
Fuck my cock is twitching.
When Alex called the other night, he was calling to inform me that both of our fathers had ties to Igor.
Igor, as in Marfa’s father, that she just took out herself. I heard through the grapevine she did what she had to do to take over the Russians. What I didn’t expect was for it to have the reach it has. It really shouldn’t with Chicago and Vegas being so far apart, but sleazy finds sleazy, and that’s exactly what Igor and our fathers are. Thankfully, I have a contact or two here in Vegas that keeps me up to date when the power switches hands or shit hits the fan.
Alex had to fill me in on more than I liked, and I hate not knowing what the hell is going on with the family my name is tied to. Vito keeps Alex in the dark about most things with the family, unlike my dad. He told me about everything, way too young. Thehaste in Alex’s voice when I answered that call had me concerned… He doesn’t get worried and his voice had nothing but worry lacing it.
Apparently, Mar put a bullet between Igor’s eyes from dealing in the skin trade. That coming out of Alex’s mouth had my blood running cold. My informants sure as hell left that part out. They honestly probably didn’t know why. What’s the business our fathers had with Igor? And why the hell was it Igor they were working with and not Marcello?
I nudge my shoulder into Nash’s, leaning into his ear. “I’m going to step out and make a call real quick.” He lets out a gasp, and I lean in a little more, whispering, “I might have a surprise for you when you win us this game…” Before he can say anything, I’m up off the stool and moving to the door. I’m trying to give him space and let him come onto me the next time he wants anything sexual… Clearly, I’m holding on by a thread.
I take my spot, leaning against the brick wall outside. I pull out the pre-rolled blunt I keep on me. I spark it and give a deep inhale, letting the smoke fill my lungs. We’ve passed training camp, and that’s when they usually test us, when our team is based in a legal state. It helps with the constant aches and pains we deal with from putting our bodies on the line so often.
I pull my phone out and call Alex to check in and see if our fathers have been laying low or not. It rings a few times, but he answers, sounding breathless. “Youokay?” I ask, knowing he’s probably just railing some random bitch. I listen while closing my lips back around my blunt.
“Yea—Wh—Why?” Stuttering isn’t like him.
I grit out, “It’s not like you to stutter,Vëlla.” He knows I’m not fucking around from my tone. Before leaving for college, I followed in my father’s footsteps to become the family’s next enforcer. From before I can remember, I was trained to be the heartless killer my dad and his useless brother needed me to be. I still remember the first life I took at eleven…
My biggest worry is figuring out my family’s involvement with the Russians out here. All I can hope is that none of them are putting their hands into the flesh market. “Did you find out what Igor had to do with our family?” I ask, hoping it’s nothing and I’m just being a paranoid asshole.
“I haven’t yet, but I don’t have a good feeling about this, Zamir. Anytime I mention his name around them, they get pissed. Vito is even more secretive than normal… He shot a guard in the head last night when he started to say Igor’s name.” Vito is his father, and I’ve always been fond of him. That doesn’t mean much, though; people change, and more importantly, people can be bought, and I think that’s what’s going on. Especially when the right amount of money is being waved in front of their faces. I don’t give a fuck what gets sold by our family, as long as it’s not dirty drugs or women andchildren. I grunt a quick “I gotta go,” lock my phone, and shove it in my pocket.
There is a need to talk to Marcello sooner than I was hoping for… He’s the last one I want to keep in the dark and piss off.
I carefully stub out my blunt on the brick wall, place it back in its tube in my pocket, and stroll back into Shenanigans. Nash is still at the bar chatting with Ellie, and I hear her laugh from the door over the music. It takes my breath away every time I hear it, and the smile that comes along with it… I’m pretty sure my soul ties onto hers tighter, no matter who’s bringing that smile to her face.
At this moment, I know I’m perfectly fine with sharing Ellie Dixon. As long as she’ll have us, I’m not going anywhere.
I walk up behind Nash, wrapping my arms around his shoulders and hugging him from the back. Ellie quips, “I figured hell would freeze over before I saw this happening.” She’s grinning so hard though, eating up Nash and me finally getting along.
