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Until he sticks his hand in his jacket, whips it out, and the blade on a switchblade swishes through the air, locking into place as the sound announces its arrival.
Why did I expect him to fight fair? Not that a much bigger boy ready to attack a girl is a fair fight, but at least it doesn’t involve weapons.
“Just like a dumb slut to bring a book to a knife fight.”
Closing the distance between us I take a step back and prepare to scream, but the sound gets caught in my throat as a blur of darkness jumps the curb and comes sliding to a halt, causing Jeffrey to whip his neck around just as an instantly familiar shape throws one leg over the bike, takes off his helmet and holds it in his right hand as he calmly eats up the ground toward my nemesis with his long strides.
“Who are you?”
“Sapphire’s protector and your worst nightmare, you woman-abusing pussy.”
“We can sort this—“ Jeffrey trembles, but it’s too late.
My self-appointed protector comes at him, Jeffrey raising his arm with the knife trying to stab at him, but the man in all black whips his helmet toward Jeffrey’s hand, knocking the blade free. But the violence doesn’t stop there. The man carries through and his thick helmet, the one that was much too big for me yesterday and very thick and heavy, makes contact with the side of Jeffrey’s head, dropping him to the ground instantly.
He reaches for his head, goes to stand, and promptly passes out.
“You…You killed him,” I announce.
“If I wanted to kill him he’d already be dead,” the man says in his all-black Mad Max-style outfit.
“What’s your name?” I ask in disbelief at what just happened.
“Don’t ask questions you don’t want answers to,” he says gruffly, just standing there staring at me, his hands at his sides like an old-west gunslinger.
“I genuinely want to know,” I press.
“Sergio. It’s getting late. You best get back to your dorm,” he says, motioning with his head exactly toward the direction of my dorm building.
“You know where I live?”
“It’s my job to know everything about you.”
“Why?”
He says nothing, just moves back to his Ducati motorcycle, slides the helmet over his head, and disappears into the night.
I look down at Jeffrey on the ground, realizing that now I absolutely do have to call the campus police. But not in my own name to report someone harassing me, stalking me, or about to commit a crime against me. It’s way past that.
I need to report the need for an ambulance, anonymously as Jeffrey lays there lifeless, his beef with me most certainly over now.
But what about Sergio? Is that over too?
And why in the world do I hope not? I really, really hope not.
4
Sergio
“You know the rules, Sergio,” Don De Luca says, stubbing out his cigar as he leans back in his chair, his arms and hands resting on the respective armrests.
“Those are your rules, Don. Not mine.”
“Sergio,” he says in a fatherly tone that’s damn near patronizing. He leans forward, puts his elbows on the table, and steeples his fingers. “They are our rules.”
“I’m not a part of any of this,” I say, looking around his office. Yeah, he’s the top mafia family boss within miles and he controls the territory according to him and most other people. But not me. I’ve never joined any alliance, never made any vows. I’m a lone wolf. Always have been. Always will be…as far as business is concerned.
But when it comes to family, that idea has clearly been turned on its head.
