Instead, I want to get clean…everything, and give Luca, Cassandra, and the babies we will have the stress-free life they deserve, and a father they can be proud of.
I actuallywanta family. I actually want to be normal and not have to worry about looking over my shoulder anymore.
What would have seemed like a mundane, extremely boring existence just a year ago is starting to sound really damn good, especially knowing that the excitement I’ve always been able to get from staying one step ahead of the law and the other crime families will easily be topped by raising children. That’s where it’s at right there…family.
With every breath that my son takes, I want to take one too. I always believed that I needed to live a long life for my son’s sake. But that was in a sense of duty type of way. I looked at it knowing that no boy wants his dad dead even if the son doesn't like his dad. But it's been Cassandra who's taught me that I should want to live because I have value to give to this world, purpose, meaning that will fulfill not just others, but myself. I guess it's because she cares about me and has no agenda. It proves to me that I am worth something. And she’s right.
Deep in thought, I don’t even process the pounding on my front door for a few moments. Who the hell is knocking like that?
I bolt downstairs because no one's going to beat their fist against my door like that. Not over my dead body and especially not while I have my son sleeping peacefully. My adrenaline is running rampant at the thought of who could be on the other side and how I’m going to kick their ass six ways to Sunday.
Even if it's some fed, like Mason, I don't really give a crap. I’m going to let my fists tee off on his face.
I jerk the door open ready to throw haymakers to the jaw but my body freezes just as I cock my fist back as I see who’s standing there in front of me.
Cassandra's father.
Now I’m confused. He's angry, knocking like a madman.
Then it hits me. There can only be one reason why the man I’ve known for many years, the peaceful docile fellow, has the rage of the devil written all over his face. Yeah, I know exactly why he's here.
"You know about us don't you?” He just stares at me, seething. “Are you going to let me explain or?"
"Let you explain? What's there to let you explain?"
He walks past me into my house, brushing against me but wisely not putting his shoulder into it. The guy is a true friend, someone I can trust so I let the violation slide, not about to block his path or kick him out…yet. More importantly, the less that the feds can see the better.
"You fucked my daughter." I can tell just by the way he says it that it's hurting him terribly, even more than I could have expected. And now I feel like a terrible man. "You fucked her. After everything I've done for you. After everything–"
"No need to say anything out loud. I know what you've done for me. And I'm eternally grateful for it. I never meant to hurt you, man. Believe me. I care about your daughter a lot."
Speak of the devil, she enters the house. She's out of breath and frazzled. It's actually sexy as hell…with her hair being all wild and her chest heaving up and down. If I wasn't in such a moment with her father, I would take her to the bed right now, if we even made it that far before primal need took over.
He starts to roll his sleeves up as if we're in a cartoon, ready to throw blows. By his body language and the way he’s going about things I can tell it's been a while since he's been in a scrap, if ever. That doesn't matter because he's willing to go to bat for his daughter. He's turned into a different man altogether. I've seen the look before, but never on him. It’s the same pure rage I’ve seen in my own mirror plenty of times in my life. I hate that my actions have taken him to this place inside that unfortunately I know all too well.
"Dad, what are you doing? Stop."
"Go ahead, hit me if it makes you feel better. I'm right here." I say to him, just wanting him to get this out of his system so he can get the cathartic release he needs before reason takes over and he capitulates, seeing and knowing I’m not going to end things with his daughter no matter how many times he throws fists in my direction or pleads with me to leave her alone. That said, I don't want to make a scene in front of Cassandra. I don't want to turn into a man that she won't be proud of. I'm better than that now.
He swings at me, clocking me right in the face. I can feel blood dripping from my lip and I'm actually pretty proud of him for that, for connecting so solidly. But it's not stopping. Rearing back he punches me straight in the gut before throwing some more face shots.
Enough.
I’ll let him get what processes as a bit of revenge, he’s earned that in my book, but I’m not going to stand here and be anybody’s punching bag…especially not in my own home. I grab both his hands and quickly swing him around, holding them tight behind his back. Cassandra gets in between us. Now I'm really trying to restrain myself so she doesn’t accidentally get hurt as her old man squirms, unsuccessfully trying to escape.
Cassandra taking collateral damage is at the front of my mind, the last thing I’d ever want to happen. She means too much to me, just as she does her father. In such a short period of time, she has become my life. I can't have this situation unfold.
"Please," I manage to say.
Seeing Luca standing on the top step has alarms going off inside me. Not again. No.
I work her dad to the ground and then let him go, turning to run up the stairs, three at a time. The thoughts of him falling the first time pound in my skull and I can’t let it ever happen again.
I scoop him up and make a mental note to buy one of those little accordion gate things people use for kids and small animals to keep them in a room.
Cupping his tiny head I pull him to my chest, my heart hammering against his little body as I slowly and carefully head back downstairs.
"Dad, I'm not like Mom. I'm not going anywhere," I can hear Cassandra promising her father. "I know that's why you’re so worked up about this whole situation. You think I'm going to leave you but I'm not going anywhere. Tony respects me. He's been one of the most respectful people I've ever known. He protects me and I care about him deeply, because all he cares about is his son. He cares about his son the same way you care about me. You have to relate to him on some level because of that."