AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I… I didn’t know if I wanted that anymore. Maybe in the past, before I’d lost Father Charlie, before the one last good thing in my life was taken from me by a gang of thugs, but now? Now this whole church thing felt fake, and as I stood there in the dim light, smelling the smoke from the candles lit on the side, I knew this felt wrong.
I didn’t want to be here. This church wasn’t mine. I only wanted Father Charlie, and now he was dead. He was dead and I was alone.
So, without a word, without seeking the priest here out, like I’d told my father I would, I turned on my heel and left, heading back home.
Cypress was an odd city. Its streets were mostly clean in the downtown area, but there were many alleyways where darkness thrived, even during the day. As I walked, I passed many clubs. One of them caught my eye—the Playground. Yes, it was a club with what I imagined was a giant neon sign called the Playground. I assumed neon since the lights weren’t on and it was currently closed. It must only be open at night.
Hmm. The Playground. I’d have to remember to look up some of these clubs when I got home.
I didn’t hurry home, mostly because nothing was waiting for me. Maybe my father, but that was it. My father, the men he’d brought with him. He’d left a lot of men back home, to keep the whiskey business running.
Only it wasn’t just whiskey my father dealt, if you know what I mean. Sometimes a business was a business, but also a front for more illegal activities.
It might’ve been an hour or two before I returned home; at least my father would think I actually spoke to the local priest. Let’s just hope he wasn’t going to ask me a million questions. Personally, I didn’t give a shit if he got on the Black Hand or not. I didn’t care about having more power and respect. I didn’t care about having formidable allies and their own men at our disposal, should we need them. I was as reluctant an heir as I could be.
Because that’s what I was, you see. To be officially considered to take the vacant position on the Black Hand, that person must already have an heir. Heirs were apparently important around here, and I was my father’s only daughter.
Lucky me.
Or not lucky me. It really depended on how you looked at it, but I chose to view it as yet another burden that came with being a Santos.
I stopped when I arrived at the house that was now our home—at least for the foreseeable future. I was seconds from reaching the front door when it swung open, a man in all black standing there, frowning at me. The moment our eyes met, I froze.
A young man in his early twenties, Zander had earned my father’s respect and a place at his right hand when he’d found out who was snitching on him to the feds a few years back. Whiskey wasn’t the only thing my father made, let’s just say.
Zander might be young, but he was just as dangerous as anyone under my father’s wing. Good with a gun, good with his hands, too. Let’s not forget the fact that my father had told me I wasn’t supposed to go anywhere in this city without Zander by my side, lest one of the other Black Hand wannabes try to kill me to disqualify my father.
“Zander,” I spoke his name, acting as if I’d done nothing wrong. I was eighteen years old. I didn’t need a freaking babysitter, especially one whose green eyes always seemed to linger on me a bit too long.
Don’t get me wrong; Zander was cute in an objective way. Messy brown hair, light green eyes. His smile was confident and infectious, and sometimes he had a witty remark or two. Muscled and tall, he kept his jaw clean of stubble.
So, yeah, he was cute. But I wasn’t in the market for cute, nor was I ever in the market for a man my father had sunk his claws into.
He stepped outside of the house, folding his arms over his chest and trying to look impressive. So what if he towered over me a bit? Didn’t impress me. “Giselle,” Zander spoke, his voice low, “you know what your father said—”
“Yeah, yeah.” I waved him off, stepping around him and walking into the house.
Zander followed me, closing the door behind him. He trailed after me up the steps, trying to stop me to have a word with me, but I kept walking, and I headed straight into my new bedroom. A room of off-white walls with dark wooden furniture and tons of excess space. The walk-in closet was nice, though, a good place to hide a few things.
He didn’t step foot in my bedroom, standing under the archway of the door. He knew he wasn’t welcomed here—but he didn’t know why I was so particular about no men inside my room. He’d joined my father’s close ranks after what happened three years back. Like, right after, when my father had basically made him my guard.
As if I needed one.
A part of me wondered if my father had been trying to assuage the hurt in me by handing me a cute guy, but I wasn’t stupid enough to really think that. No, Zander was my bodyguard because my father didn’t trust me. He wanted Zander to get close to me, so if I planned anything, he would be the first to know about it—other than Zander, obviously.
“Giselle,” Zander spoke my name quietly. It looked like we were the only two in the house right now. I didn’t see my father or any of his other men. I knew what kind of man Zander was, so I wasn’t afraid of being alone with him.
No, I knew what kind of men would prey on a woman when they were alone, and Zander was not it. I was far past the point of being afraid, though. Far past it.
I shrugged off my coat, moving to hang it in my closet. Next off came the gloves, and once I was free of them, I stepped out of the closet, staring across the room at Zander. “I don’t know how many times I have to say this, but I don’t need a babysitter.”
“I’m not a babysitter,” he said, frowning slightly. “I’m only supposed to keep you safe.”
“And tattle on me should I do anything that would tarnish my father’s name, yeah, I know. I know why he told you to stick to me like glue.” I pursed my lips, wondering how I’d slip away from him again. There were clubs I wanted to look up, places I passed earlier that interested me.
You see, a girl had her demons, certainly, and it was high time I chased those demons away.
Zander let out an annoyed sound. “You know that’s not why I’m here.” His voice was soft and kind, exactly the kind of voice that I didn’t hear too often. The last man who’d spoken to me with such kindness, such vulnerability… well, he was dead.
