Page 8 of Mobbed Up Love


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“Jesus you are cute, Lolita,” I say, pulling her into my arms for a kiss.

“What?” she asks, breathlessly.

“Your outfit.”

“It seems appropriate.”

“Where did you get that idea?”

“The Sopranos and Dexter,” she says, shrugging.

“Let’s go, Lolita,” I say, shaking my head and laughing. She is adorable, more so than any one woman has the right to be. I grab her hand and pull her down the stairs, avoiding my men once again. I still haven’t gotten a handle on my jealousy. I know that I’m going to need to sooner rather than later. I am not going to be able to wait to marry her. I know that my need for her is strong enough that I won’t be able to make through the rest of the season.

Before all the leaves fall, she will be my wife. That is a motherfucking promise.

Chapter Five

Autumn

When we get out to the garage, I kind of expected lots of fancy cars. Instead, I see only one car. A newer model Lincoln MKX. I stare at the SUV for a minute will he puts two black duffel bags into the trunk. I snap out of it as he grabs a manual saw, a couple of brand-new blue tarps from the giant stack of them, and a pack of zip ties. I think I might be in over my head.

“What’s wrong? You look like a deer in the headlights. You don’t have to do this with me. You can go back to bed, Lolita,” he says gently.

Have you ever been so head over heels in love with someone, that you’d literally do anything for them? Sure, it’s been less than a day, but I am not at all worried about that.

“Oh no. I’m going, I’m just kind of curious what we are using a saw for?”

“Ah. I never know what condition the body is in and I may need to butcher it a bit,” he says shrugging his shoulders. He says it so nonchalantly like it’s the most normal thing in the world. I have lost my damn mind because that was so hot.

What the fuck is wrong with me?

After he gathers all of his tools for the trade, we get into his car and head off into the night. His taste in music leaves a lot to be desired though.

“What the hell are you listening to?” I ask, trying not to laugh.

“I don’t really know. It’s soothing though. It wouldn’t do to be hyped up when I get there. I save that for after.”

“Oh, that makes sense,” I say. It takes forever to get where we are going.

Coming to a stop in what was once a parking lot, an abandoned warehouse looms before us. I climb out of the car and help Albie get his gear. I take a deep breath. I’m about to knowingly and willingly commit a crime.

Before meeting him, I never would have put myself out there like that. I walk behind him into the surprisingly well-lit open space. It must be in use often as it is clean except the center of the room. The dead body and splashes of blood look out of place in the otherwise sterile environment. Though, I guess something like this would be out of place anywhere. Near the body, which is face down on the ground, stands a tan man in his tight boxer briefs.

Talk about weird.

“What the fuck, Lo?” Albie demands.

“Sorry. I was just trying to save time. You always have me ditch my clothes. I didn’t know the woman Ma chewed my ear off about for twenty minutes was coming with you. Wait, this is the girl, right?”

“Of course, it is,” he says, shaking his head. “Lorenzo, this is my girl, Autumn. Autumn, my older brother, Lorenzo.

Albie gets to work. He easily lifts the giant man onto the tarp he just spread out.

My mind takes a minute to catch up with what I am seeing.

“Holy shit,” I say.

“I know baby. Dead bodies can be a lot to take in,” Albie says placatingly.

“Oh my God, no. This is New York, of course I’ve seen dead bodies, I just never expected to see this one.”

“You know this guy?” Lorenzo asks.

“Yeah, he’s my stepdad. Well, I guess he was. You have no idea what a huge relief this is.” Without thinking, I hug Lorenzo, simultaneously jumping up and down. “Holy shit. You are my fucking hero, Lorenzo.” Is it wrong to be glad that a man is dead? Definitely, but the world is a better place now for sure.

The hug is short lived. Albie rips me from Lorenzo, but to be fair, he didn’t touch me or hug me back in any way.

“Don’t touch other men, Lolita. I don’t like what it does to me.”

“I’m sorry,” I say, turning in his arms and kissing him. I really kiss him to keep from laughing like Lorenzo is doing right now.

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