His Greatest Liability

chap 2

Rory

My relationship with my step-brother was...nonexistent, to be honest. We rarely ever spoke, and when we did, he was nice to me for the most part. We got along fine in the same atmosphere because in some ways, we were just alike. Korbin liked his own company, and I enjoyed being on my own, so we rarely ever had to interact much.

Either way, when he decided to pack up and leave on a random Tuesday night a few months ago, I wasn't all that surprised. In fact, I remember being happy for him, mostly because Jeremiah didn't take the news well and seeing him on the shit end of the stick for once made me happy, so I tucked the memory away in the back of my mind for safe keeping.

My dear old step father likes to have control over everything in his life, and Korbin stripped that away from him in the matter of a day.

But then something bad happened.

Korbin stopped calling.

He cut all contact, parked his ghost here in New York, and left the rest of himself as nothing but a mystery to the one's around him. Not even his father, who had some of the most reliable connections all over the state, could find him.

Jeremiah would be the first to know if a body showed up, especially on his own turf.

There's a theory of his, one that I don't like to entertain per say, but something I don't have much of a say so in my mother on the line.

His theory involves dangerous men like Nico and his brothers, a lifelong feud between two crime families, and Korbin. I don't know much about the criminal society of the Cosa Nostra, but I do know that if Korbin came here without permission from New York's Capo...then that's bad. Real bad. Murder seems a little extra as retaliation, but who am I to say.

My opinion doesn't matter.

I'm only here to gather enough information for my stepfather to use in the long run. Keep my head down and do what I have to in order to get close enough to hear just a little. Proof that the Cosa Nostra had something to do with Korbin's disappearance— maybe even his death.

He put me on a deadline. Three months to slither my way into territory I have no business creeping around. Three months to lie and cheat in order to get what he wants.

Three months to save my mamma's life.

Jeremiah's clearly on a suicide mission, and I'm his test dummy. If anyone finds out why I'm here at a college I'm not qualified for, or the fact that I'm here on behalf of the Chicago Outfit, I'm done for.

I'm treading murky water here, and I wake up every morning with the smell of gunpowder in my throat and the threat of being caught lingering on my skin.

My teeth sink into the warm donut, the only food to touch my mouth in nearly thirteen hours, and I can't bottle up the groan that crawls out of my throat. The sweetened dough is filled with hot cherry jam, and the flavors of sugar and jam burst on my tongue with every bite.

However, I don't take my eyes off him— not even to give myself the courtesy of blinking.

I tighten my fingers around the donut in my hand, ignoring the feeling of warm jelly trickling down the webs of my fingers. Instead of cleaning myself up, I take this time to study Nico's features.

Sharp jaw, slightly sunken in cheekbones that shadowed the rest of his Adonis-like facial features. His hair was shaved low to his skull in a buzz cut fade, which I normally wouldn't peg to look good on most men, but then again...

Nico isn't most men.

It doesn't matter what era of time Nico was born in, there'd never be a man like him. He's all sharp cheekbones and sharp suit, larger than life.

I have a feeling that whichever devilish creature created Nicolas did it with the sole intention of mockery.

A cold whisper runs through my blood, and I swallow hard. He's as attractive as he is terrifying— if not more. This becomes even clearer when he slips a cigarette between his lips and inhales deeply.

Smoke.

That's what he reminds me of. Intoxicating and, presumably, life-threatening.

When I continue to stare at him, his gaze lifts to mine. My pulse leaps into my throat. The look in his eyes is alarming, as well as disturbing, but not wanting to look like some kind of punk, I hold it. Hold it...hold it...hold it until—

I'm glaring again.

He casually lifts a brow, the darkest form of amusement swimming in the depth of his eyes.

Fuck me.

It feels like I'm somehow losing a game that I don't know the rules of, and there's a feeling of weakness in my muscles that makes my neck heat up.

"Rory!" I decide to pull my gaze away from Nico, because that's the safer option, and turn to find the voice calling my name.

My roommate, Rosemary, plops down in the seat across from mine, a rough exhale leaving her mouth. "You're like a fucking vampire, I swear." She drops her bag on the table and shakes her head. "You're gone before I wake up, and you don't come home until hours after I'm already asleep."

"Sorry." I crack a smile, not bothering to feed her another lie of mine. I've used them all up at this point. I was busy. I was studying. Had to walk my giagiá's dog for her again. For one, my grandmother is dead and her dog is even deader, and secondly, even if she was alive, she wouldn't be living here.

The lies I've told over the last month are only going to catch up with me, and I can only hope that praying to every God I believe in will atone for them in the meantime.

"Sure you are," She laughs. "Can I least ask why you got all dressed up the other night? Do you have a boyfriend?"

"Gods, no." I say it to quickly, but smoothly laugh it over. "I mean I went out, but not to meet anyone." Dropping my donut in the trash bin next to my table, I grab a few paper towels before cleaning the jam off my fingers.

"Well," She drawls slowly. "We won!" The excitement is pulsing in her voice, and I can't help but smile. Rosie's in the debate club, which is honestly a plus for the both of us. She travels often, and I don't have to see her much, as bad as that sounds.

I'm not used to having friends, and lying to the omly one I have leaves a stinging burn in my throat. 

"Another win— as per usual."

Rosie waves me off, reaching over to steal one of my donuts. "Shut up."

Out of the corner of my eye, I catch a glimpse of Nico nodding at his brother before slipping out the back doors of the cafeteria, and I already know where he's leaving to without having to really think about it.

My spine jerks upright.

"I have to go," I hurriedly collect my books off the table, dumping them into my bookbag. "I'll see you tonight? We can celebrate your win."

Rosie's lips part for a fraction of a second before she presses them together in a tight line. "Fine, go. Give me the donuts."

Smiling, I push the box of sweets towards her.

"We're watching twilight tonight, just to let you know. Bring home some pizza."

I nod. "Pizza and twilight it is."

"Na eísai asfalís." [Translation; greek to english: Be safe.]

I pause, flicking my gaze back to her bright blue eyes. Getting to know Rosie went a lot smoother than any of my previous failed friendships, and I take that it's because she's Greek, just like me. So I guess in more ways than one, she reminded me of home, which inevitably made me feel closer to my mamma.

I curl my fingers around the straps of my bag and let out a breath. "No promises."