Taste of Iron

Forty Two: Rest In Pieces, Randy

Forty Two: Rest In Pieces, Randy

"Can I come in?" Atlas asked. Emil's jaw was locked tight as he nodded, stepping to the side to let the chef in.

"I'm still waiting for the answer," Emil spoke.

"Look, it's seriously not as bad as it looks. It doesn't even hurt anymore, I swear. Let's just put this behind us and-"

Atlas was pacing around the room, but Emil caught his arm to make him stop. Atlas stared at the crime boss, his eyes wide. He was used to the bright and bubbly side of Emil, and now seeing him so... serious and intense was rather new, and also a little intimidating. Not that Atlas was scared of Emil. He knew Emil wouldn't hurt him, but he didn't want the gangster to hurt anyone else either.

"Atlas, I'm going to ask you one last time." Emil's voice was low and stern. He was going to keep his palm on Atlas's cheek, but stopped when he was a couple of inches away. He inhaled sharply before placing it on the side of the chef's neck instead.

"Forget about it, Emil," Atlas retorted, trying to sound just as domineering as the other man.

"A name," Emil spoke. "I need a name, Atlas. Tell me who did this to you."

"Or what?" Atlas raised a brow.

"Or I'll find it out myself. Which I will, trust me. Either way, it's not going to be pretty for whoever hurt you. So why don't you save me the time and hassle of digging and just give me the name," Emil said.

"That's what I don't want, Emil," Atlas frowned. "I don't want you to go fight with him. I don't want anyone else to get hurt. Just let this go, please."

"This is why you've been ignoring me," Emil whispered. "Somebody did this to you to get back at me, didn't they? They... they hurt because of me."

"It's not your fault," Atlas argued, keeping his hand on Emil's arm as he looked into his eyes. "It was a one time thing. It's over now. We can put this behind us and move on."

"What makes you think it was a one time thing?"

"He said that you were even now and-"

"And you trust him? Whoever it was?" Emil scoffed. "Fine! Even if the matter is resolved with him... I have other rivals. People I've angered. Dangerous ones that will try to harm you to get to me."

"Emi-"

"Ava was right," Emil muttered, freeing his arm from Atlas's grip and taking a few steps back. "They're going to use you. You'll keep being in the middle of the crossfire as long as you're with me. You... just look at you, Atlas! This is all because of me!"

Emil sounded just as angry as he was earlier, but now his anger was towards himself. The pain and dilemma on his face was clear as day. The gangster stumbled back, sitting down on the couch as he held his head in his hands. For a brief moment, Atlas didn't know what to do or say.

If he were to be practical, then Emil was right. He was involved with shady people. Ones that wouldn't think twice before harming others. Atlas was always going to be in danger as long as he was associated with Emil. It was a fact.

But on the other hand... Atlas didn't want to let go of Emil. He was already in too deep. He had never felt this strongly about anyone, and for once in his life he wanted to yell 'screw logic!' and just do what his heart wanted.

"This isn't the life you want for yourself though, is it?" Atlas said, his voice soft. "You've been trying to go legit. So all this isn't going to be forever."

"I can make my businesses legal but that won't take away my past. As long as I'm here... in this city... my past is always going to haunt me and it'll keep coming back to hurt me and hurt the ones I love," Emil replied. "I can't have that. Seeing you like this... I'm no good for you, Atlas. You need to get away from me-"

"Oh fuck off!" Atlas exclaimed, feeling himself get angry now. "I know you feel guilty. You feel like you're responsible for this and you know what? I'm going to give it to you straight. Maybe you are. But guess what? So am I. You didn't force me to be with you. I chose it. I chose you. And with that, I chose whatever baggage you bring. I don't regret my choice, Emil. Trust me, I wouldn't even be here right now if I did."

"But-"

"No fucking buts. If you feel guilty then get me flowers and take me out on a nice date and make it up to me. But do not give me the whole 'you're better off without me' bullshit because that's not the kind of man you are. You are not the person who wallows in self-pity and backs off when things get hard," Atlas ranted.

"But this is dangerous!"

"Fine! Then hire a couple more bodyguards or henchmen or whatever to be at the restaurant! Have one of them follow me home every night so that you're sure I get back safe! Hell, I'll even move in with you if you think I'll be safer that way," Atlas exclaimed. "If we have a problem, then we find a solution. We do not run away from it. That is what it means to be in a relationship, Emil."

"It's not as simple as it sounds."

"Then we find just as complex ways to deal with it. You didn't give up on me when I was unsure, and I'm sure as hell not going to give up on you now-"

"Atlas, listen to-"

"You know why? I was sitting there in some dark ass room with my hands and legs tied and two idiots in front of me and...and I wasn't worried. But the moment he started talking about shooting you- I... I have never been that terrified in my life, Emil. I can't even bear the thought of losing you. And as long as it's in my hands, I'm not going to because-"

"Baby, please just-"

"I love you. I fucking love you," Atlas confessed. Emil's eyes went wide as he stared at the chef, who was now completely red. "I've never loved anyone in my life the way I love you and I'll be damned if I let that shit for brains Randy ruin it for us!"

Atlas finally stopped. His chest was heaving rapidly from his rant as he tried to catch his breath. His face was flushed, and he looked like he had just run a marathon.

Emil was speechless. The crime boss could count on one hand the amount of times in his life when he was left absolutely stunned, but this was definitely one of them. It took a few moments for both of them to get over the shock of Atlas's speech, but eventually, Emil stood up from the couch. He took slow steps towards the chef, making Atlas's heart race a tad bit higher with each inch of distance that Emil closed.

"You're right," Emil said. "I love you. I'm not going to give up on us. I'll make things right, no matter what it takes."

"We will make things right. Together," Atlas corrected, a small smile finding its way on his lips.

"We will," Emil whispered. "It still kills me to see you like this, Atlas. You have no idea."

"I can imagine," Atlas empathized. "But these bruises will heal in no time. Trust me, even hickies don't stay longer than a couple days on me. I've got some tough skin."

"I want you to move in with me," Emil continued, ignoring Atlas's pathetic attempt at a joke. "Not only as it'll give me peace of mind but because I have no doubt that you're the one for me and I want to give you... give us my all. I want to build a life with you."

"Are you sure?"

"I've never been more sure of anything in my life, Atlas," Emil reassured, intertwining his fingers with the chef's as he leant forward to peck his lips.

"I'll do it under one condition."

"What is that?"

"No payback," Atlas stated. "You won't go after Randy. I know you're pissed off. I would be too. But just let the matter to rest."

"Atlas..."

"I want you to promise me, Emil."

"Fine," Emil mumbled. "I won't go after Randy... physically."

"Uh, what?"

"But I make no promises that I won't ruin him financially so that he ends up sleeping on a park bench," Emil stated.

"But-"

"Sh, no buts. Now, do you want to hire a moving company? Because Taylor has a truck so if you don't have too much stuff then we can borrow it and do it ourselves. Oh! Do you think we should repaint our apartment? I've heard cerulean is..."

***