Psychotic Love (a mafia love story)

Chapter 2

ECHO'S POV

"Why the hell did it take you 15 whole minutes to get out here," Vic asks, annoyance written in her expression.

"Come on, you're exaggerating." Surely it couldn't have been that long. Vic's always been so dramatic, but I love her for it.

"When I texted you it was 9:07, now it's 9:20. That's damn near fifteen minutes." Well, maybe she wasn't being dramatic this time.

"I'm sorry. I almost got caught. Luckily my dad was just drunk enough for me to get past."

I always complain about my father being a drunken soul, but it's times like this when I appreciate it. I'd still rather have a father who loves me. I wish instead of sneaking out, I could have told him I was going to spend the night at Vic's. We'd still sneak out but because of my father and our loving, trusting relationship, I'd cave and tell him everything. He'd forgive me and treat me for telling the truth. I'd never lie to him again because taking advantage of his trusting heart again would crush my heart and his too.

But that is only a fantasy of the perfect father that I've conjured up in my head. My father is an abusive asshole and he always will be.

"No need to apologize. I'm just so excited that you're finally getting out. It's been so long since we've spent time together and I hate to admit it, but I've missed you." Vic says all soft-hearted.

She's right, we haven't hung out in ages. I've been busy with school and overwhelmed by the stress my parents put on me. I haven't had time for my best friend. But I do now, and I'm going to enjoy every second. Screw my parents and their expectations, screw my thunderstorm of thoughts about my ex, screw it all.

"Aww. Vic, I've missed you too." I lean over to plant playful kisses on her pink, rosy cheek. I leave a coat of lipgloss behind in the shape of my lips.

"Stop it," She says, with a snickering giggle.

I push her away. "Fine. I'll find someone who absolutely loves my kisses one day." I grab my heels. Then I realize my feet have grass and mud all over them.

I have my own wipes but Vic's are sitting right on the dashboard in front of me. I grab them. She catches me.

"Don't use all of my wipes. I just got those and you know how you get. You do one swipe per wipe."

That last part makes me laugh. I literally don't.

"Okay, whatever Vic." I roll my eyes.

We bicker and gossip with each other until we finally pull into the parking lot of the nightclub. It's filled with expensive cars that I can only dream of owning. In big red, illuminated letters, a sign on the club reads Ace of Spades. Green, blue, and red lights flash from the front doors. I can't wait to get in there.

This is a big nightclub. The line to get in looks stressfully long, but whatever for fun, right?

"God, by the time we get to the front of that line, the party will be over."

"Oh, we're not waiting in line."

I look at Vic. She has a mischievous smirk on her face, she also has two VIP wristbands in her hand.

"How did you-"

"I know a guy...or two."

I raise an eyebrow at that statement, then I take a wristband.

We both get out of the car and begin walking to the front of the line. We link our arms together as we do so.

"Is this an eighteen-plus club?" I question.

"Nope." She says as if we're older than 18. As if my question didn't matter.

"So how are we gonna-"

She holds up two fake IDs.

"You've just thought of everything, huh?" I say taking the ID that is mine.

"Duh, I'm a planner. When do I not think of everything," She says offended.

I look at my ID it still has my first and last name, just a different age. She should have gotten the names changed, but I don't question it.

Once we get to the front there's a bouncer. His hands are across his chest and an intimidating look floats in his eyes. His muscles are huge. They look like they might burst through his black t-shirt. A sleeve of tattoos trail down his right arm, and he wears a black earpiece that flashes green every second.

"Wristbands and IDs," He says flatly.

We hold our wrists up and hand him our IDs.

He looks at them and for a second I think we're done for. He keeps his eyebrow raised.

"Echo?" He questions my name. I don't blame him. All my life I've been asked why my parents named me that. Truth is, I don't know. But it's cool, I guess.

"That's me!" I say, with a bit of enthusiasm.

"Nice name."

I thank him, he hands us the IDs and we head inside.

My ears are met with the blasting of music, and the bass of the speakers vibrate my core. The club is kind of cloudy from the hookah. At least that's what I smell. It's dark in here but I love it.

"Wanna start with drinks?" Vic asks.

"Yeah, so like how drunk are you planning to get tonight?"

"I don't know...like, this much." She holds up her index and thumb. They're less than an inch apart.

I look at her and laugh, shaking my head. That's a big lie, Anytime we go out I'm always the one dragging her out to the car and driving her home.

"Yeah, right," I say.

Once we get to the bar, I notice that it is a huge square in the middle of the club. Bar stools line every side, filled with people talking, smoking, and laughing. I already feel that tonight will be one of the best of my life. A bartender approaches us shortly. Her hair is in a long brunette pontail, and she wear a black apron.

"What can I get for you two?" She asks.

Vic takes her order first.

"I would like three shots of Vodka and..."

She takes a long pause as if she thinking, but I know she just being dramatic. Classic Vic.

"One martini!"

She looks at me as if she's daring me to top her order.

"And you?"

"One margarita, please," I say.

she grabs my arm giving me a shake. "Come on Ech, you can do better than that."

I hate when she calls me that. She's unnecessarily shortening my name. I allow it though because she's my best friend.

"One margarita is all I need Vic, and besides, who's gonna look out for you when you're drunk out of your mind?"

She doesn't say anything, instead, she tilts her head with a slight smirk. She knows I'm right.

"Hey ladies, you two look exquisite tonight."

Vic and I turn to see the source of the unfamiliar voice.

There's a shorter guy maybe 5'6 or so. His face appears to be freshly shaved and his hair looks well-groomed. He looks big like he works out, and his cologne is strong enough to give me a migraine.

Not my type.

"Well, hello there!" Vic charmingly says.