Page 43 of Beautiful Criminal (Omerta Law 1)

He’s in his underwear, sprawled out on the ninnies looking couch, one arm above his head and his hat laying over his face.

I shove him with my knee.

“Wake up now.”

He stirs, pulling his ball cap from his face and looking up at me with hooded eyes.

“Shit, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to fall asleep here.” He groans. I grab his jeans off the floor.

“Guess you didn’t mean to take your pants off and get comfortable either?” I throw them at him and he gives me a terse look.

Sitting in the chair in the corner of the room, my bottle of water in hand, I tilt my head to the side.

“Why didn’t you go home?”

Pulling his jeans on, he runs his hand through his wreck of a hair and places his hat on. He doesn’t want to answer me.

“We all have a past, come out with it,” I encourage him. Nothing he has to say could be as bad as I’ve seen or done.

“I don’t have a home, is that what you want to hear?” His tone on the edge of angry. He glances up from under the bill of his hat.

“Why’s this?” I continue to press, curious how a normal guy like him could have it so bad.

“Parents threw me out when I was sixteen, they moved to somewhere, I don’t know where. I was staying at a friend’s house but he got a girlfriend and she don’t like me bumming off their place, so I’m homeless.” His puppy dog eyes don’t work on me, I don’t feel sorry for people often. This explains his lack of respect for other people’s property when I met him, and why he hasn’t worked a day in his life. He’s a bum. If he had tried harder earlier on, he would have gotten a job and a place.

“Get a job,” I tell him.

“He scoffs. Yeah, tell that to the dozen of places I applied. I have a record.”

“You’re eighteen, how bad could it be?”

He shrugs before leaning back on the couch. I ask, but I feel like I already know the story. Dad left him as a kid, hooked on drugs, parents threw him out. What?

“Was with an old friend who held up a gas station. He grabbed the loot and bailed, leaving me behind.”

“Ah, and because you ratted him out you got less time.” I put the pieces together.

“No, I didn’t rat. Fuck him. I got some hot chick lawyer that took my case and got me probation for a while. But still, it doesn’t look good when I’m applying for a job,” he tells me and I’m surprised, which doesn’t happen often.

Rubbing my chin, I look him over. I’ve seen people with a much worse record make ends meet, sounds like he’s stuck in feeling sorry for himself. Of course not having a dad to whoop his ass along the way of his fuck-ups doesn’t help. He’s expendable though. No commitment to anyone means he could have the potential to be a good man.

He didn’t rat on a partner that fucked him out of cash and put him at fall for the crime that says something, there’s definitely room for loyalty.

I could put him on my crew back in New York, maybe.

“I might have a place for you if you come back to New York with us,” I offer. My mind still mulling it over. He could start at the bottom, run some drugs here and there. Some light shit until I feel him out a bit more.

His eyes dart to mine with suspicion.

“Your work, from what I can tell it’ll get me back in front of a judge,” he insults my generosity, which makes my jaw tic.

I stand.

“Could, if you’re stupid and don’t follow the rules that are given to you.” I grow annoyed with him and head toward the front door for some more air. “But the more I think about it, you may not be cut out for my line of work, Eddie,” I confess. My own brother was born into a legacy of violence and even he has trouble coping. When you kill someone, you lose a part of yourself. A piece of living that you never get back.

Pulling it open, I’m shoved to the ground and a man in a black mask and clothes aims a semi-automatic around the room, landing on Eddie first. He fires, and instinct kicks in. I kick his feet out from underneath him and he falls to the ground. I lunge for the gun but he wraps an arm above around my neck pulling it backward as far as he can. Twisting my torso I wrap my legs around his head sending him crashing to the floor, causing him to let go of mine neck. I snatch the gun off the floor and point it at the guy firing three shots into his chest and one into the head.