𝚂𝙾𝙱𝚁𝙸𝙴𝚃𝚈 𝚆𝙾𝙽𝚃 𝚃𝙴𝙰𝙲𝙷 𝙺𝙸𝙳𝚂 𝚃𝙾 𝙳𝙰𝙽𝙲𝙴 ,, j. b routledge

16| it is impossible to never tell the truth

Chapter Sixteen

Getting Away With Murder (Papa Roach)

"it is impossible, to never tell the truth but the reality is i'm getting away with murder"

Kiara had left shortly after the revelations, sensing that John B and I needed some space. It had taken some convincing, but eventually JJ left with Pope and went back to Heyward's. John B and I had talked about Rafe a little more, the brownies sitting forgotten on my night table. We fell asleep tangled with each other, his shirt drying up the last of my tears, rain pitter pattering steadily on the rooftop of our small little house.

I woke slowly, inhaling John B's signature scent of saltwater and old spice. I could hear voices from the house around me. It sounded like Vittoria yelling, but that was a fairly usual occurrence.

"Hey, baby." John B said quietly, running his fingers through my hair as he began to wake. "You feeling better now?"

I nodded "Emotionally, it was a lot to handle. But it's been great to finally talk about what happened."

"They had no right to barge in here like that." John continued " I should have stopped them."

"Don't worry about it." I laughed "I heard JJ tried to punch Favio?"

John laughed "Yeah. God that was funny. I don't think I've ever seen a grown man jump as much as he did."

"I wish I had been there." I chuckled softly, standing up from my bed, around about the time Vittoria threw the door open.

"Wake up lovebirds!" She hollered "Barba and company meeting, living room!"

And behind her was someone I hoped to never see in my house. Ever.

"Barry?" I shouted "What the hell are you-" I stopped as my brain caught up to my mouth, noting the state my sister's hair was in and the dark marks on her collarbone. "Oh dear God, no no."

"Yeah, I 'm just going to wait downstairs." The army vet shrugged, backing out of my room.

"That's not how I wanted you to find out." Vit shrugged, pointing to where her boyfriend had just left

"Let's talk about this later." John B suggested "What does your mom want?"

"I don't know, but it has to be important if she's waking me up this early."

The three of us made our way downstairs, and I noticed the lack of a certain blond douche in our living room. Favio was gone.

"Where's Favio?" I asked, looking out the window, noting carefully that his Porsche was still in the driveway.

"That's what we're all here to talk about." Mom began "It seems that Sangue Nero got fed up with your father, and have taken matters into their own hands."

"What the hell does that mean?" John B asked

"That he's dead." Barry answered, albeit unhelpfully.

"That he is not." Mom cut him off "Why are you even here Barry?"

Nonna interjected "Moving on. As much as we wish Favio was no longer our problem, Sangue threw another brick through our window last night. They really need to come up with a better system."

"What does the note say?" I asked quietly, reaching for the yellow scrap of note paper. For a high profile crime family, they really needed to invest in better letterhead.

The note was written in delicate Italian, a scrawling cursive script. I passed the note back.

"It's been a while since I've read anything in Italian. I'm a bit rusty."

"Basically it's a ransom demand." Nonna said "That we shouldn't pay, and honestly don't have the money to pay."

"Ok, then we leave it." Vittoria reasoned "Favio's never done anything for us."

"That's not how gangsters work, Vittoria." I protested "Trust me, I've seen every High + Low movie, and I watched them in Japanese because Netflix didn't have the English dub."

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"If they don't get the money they so desperately want back, they'll strike somewhere else."

"Nonsense. Where's the drop off point? I'm gonna tell them we aren't interested. to the car!" Vittoria said, snatching the note and heading out the front door.

+++

I sat next to John B in his van ( which he named the Twinkie. Why, you ask? Don;t look at me for the answers. ), tapping my drumsticks along to the beat of the Papa Roach CD Vittoria had insisted on putting in, even though se was currently busy making out with Barry in the backseat.

"That is absolutely nauseating." I said, nodding to my sister and the drug dealer tangled in the backseat

"Hey hey! Not in my van!" the Routledge boy shouted.

The two of us were not the ones to judge in the particular situation, knowing what we'd gotten up to in that same backseat. Shenanigans that would probably make my grandmother go red.

When we made it into town, John B stopped the car so abruptly in font of the park where we were supposed to leave the money that Barry and Vittoria went crashing to the floor in a flurry of curses and long hair.

Us in the front struggled to contain our laughter.

"Right. Ready to go tell Sangue to fuck off?" I asked Vittoria

She nodded "the only thing I've been more ready for was getting outta juvie."

Vittoria jumped out of the van, Barry close on her heels as they set off the the bench that had been designated as the meeting point. I was suddenly acutely aware of the fact that John B and I had the old Volkswagen completely to ourselves.

And the sunlight made him look really good.

"So." I said, coy smile on my face. "It's just us now."

"And what are we going to do about it?"

Grinning, I turned up the radio and crossed the front seat to connect my lips with his, straddling his lap and resting my back against the steering wheel. Our faces morphed into smiles as our lips tangled together, completely unaware of the giant argument my sister was having with the mafia.

"What do you mean you want the money?" the blonde shouted "We don't want Favio. He's as good as dead to his 'family'."

"Well, you still have something we're owed!" The taller woman dressed in leather yelled back

"Well get it from somebody else." Vit snapped before grabbing Barry's hand and heading back towards the Twinkie.

"You've gotta be kidding me." She shook her head as she looked through the windshield to see me and John B making out

"Nah." Barry shook his head. "We can work with this."

And when he pounded on the glass, I must have jumped five feet, hitting my head on the ceiling.
"What was that for!?" I shouted as Vittoria slid the back door open

"Nevermind that, are Sangue Nero our of our hair?" John B questioned

"Completely dealt with. Favio's not our issue anymore."

Favio may not have been the problem, but Sangue Nero still was.