Wait For Me

Chapter 7 - A Watchful Eye

A/N: Apologies for the shorter chapter. I wrote what I needed to, to keep the plot moving along, and then didn't know what else to add. The next chapters will be longer.

March 13, 1930

Ten days. Ten days of constant runs, deliveries, hits, and other general Mafia business. Ten days since he last saw Alastor and Anthony could only hope that the man didn't think he was intentionally avoiding him. Try as he might, there was nothing he could do about it, no way to fix it. His hands were tied. He was stuck in the daily routine. Stuck under his father's watchful gaze. And when it wasn't his father's, it was some other goon's, one that would be sure to report to the Don if his son misbehaved in any way. He didn't even know where Alastor was during the day, aside from at the hotel - which he couldn't go to at this point in time.

Anthony was anxious. Alastor had a limited time in this city, and here he was, stuck unloading the good merchandise at some rich schmuck's club that happened to be good partners with the Moretti Family.

"Ya Pops got you busy, aye Tonio?" The club owner, Mr. Samson, snickered. The gentleman himself was a lazy sort. One could hear it in his cadence, see it in the way he held himself. He was rich, what need did he have to rush around or stress about things? He was of the luckier sort to not be so affected by the Great Depression. The man simply chose to sit back and watch the world rush around him as it fought to survive. A part of Anthony wanted something like that one day. Or at least...he used to. Now, he wasn't so sure.

The dumb bastard could at least bother to use his code name. It still irked him that this joker got to be privy to his real name, but a person like Alastor couldn't be. It wasn't fair. If not for Henroin, Mr. Samson might not have ever known his true name, though the blonde doubted that a bit. If the rich club owner wanted answers, he would get them one way or another. He had deep connections, and was a shrewd businessman. It was half the reason he got along so well with the Don.

"Yes sir," was the simple reply. Anthony knew he was just trying to bait him into saying something negative about his father that he could report back on. That was something the young man had learned very quickly and strived never to do again. Not in the older man's presence at least. Needless to say, he hated stopping by to do this run, and avoided it when he could help it, but his father was still punishing him for being out beyond curfew, and this counted as part of that "punishment."

"Young, good-lookin' man like you, you oughta be perusin' the avenues lookin' for a Dolly!" the older man quipped with a brow raised. "Ya what? Twenty somethin'?"

Anthony nodded. Another thing about Mr. Samson; all his baiting was always the same. "Just turned twenty a few months ago now."

The club owner whistled. "Well, wouldja look at that! Ya know boy, when I was ya age, I was out sleepin' with two or three women a week!"

And you weren't a Mafia member that had to follow orders or realized that you didn't even like dames like that. But he didn't say any of that aloud, he just shrugged and kept to his work. The sooner he finished unloading, the sooner he could move on to the next stop.

After a while Mr. Samson must've gotten bored as he scoffed and said, "well if ya lookin' fa more work ya can do, lemme know. I'm sure I can keep ya plenty occupied." Then he stepped back into his office.

Anthony resisted the urge to roll his eyes and simply nodded. Now that his horrible distraction was gone, he could focus on his task in peace.

****

Alastor wasn't entirely sure what to think of the fact that he hadn't seen hide nor hair of the blonde in over a week. It was almost as if he had just disappeared. Granted, the city was huge! Five large boroughs and not enough time in the day to search them all thoroughly. It still left Alastor with a feeling he couldn't explain.