Blame It on the Shame (Blame It on the Shame: Lou-Lou and Ricardo's Story #1) (18 page)

“You to die,” she says before she leaves.

The clock on the wall tells me it's almost 3 am—which means it's time for me to head out.

I pick up my burner phone and call Emilio. “Got something for me?”

“Yup,” he says. “Found him in an alley outside a club on 34
th
street. He's ready to go when you are.”

“How's the girl?”

He hesitates. “Don't know, she ran off before I had a chance to check.”

“I'll meet you at the warehouse shortly,” I say before I hang up.

I close my eyes and clench my fists as my rage comes to the surface and I begin seething.

I throw a black hoodie over my head and grab a pair of gloves.

I'm
not
making the same mistake I made last time.

I open the door and take a step back when Lou-Lou's bright brown eyes open wide.

The hand that was about to knock on the door drops and she looks me up and down. “Never mind. This is obviously a bad time.”

She turns on her heels but I reach for her elbow...for once she doesn't flinch.

I almost want to laugh at the irony because if there was ever a time for her to flinch when it comes to me...it's when I'm in this state...on my way to do what it is I'm about to do.

“It's not a bad time. What's up?”

She turns and looks around the hallway. “It's past 12...which means it's the next day.”

“Okay?”

She looks embarrassed. “Well, I've been thinking and I think I want to tell you another truth.” She looks at the pair of gloves I'm still holding. “But if you're busy...”

I take a step back and gesture for her to come in. “I can make time.”

I send a quick text to Emilio and tell him I'm going to be a little later than expected.

She heads to my bedroom and I have to remind my dick that she's off limits.

She plops down on the bed and sits Indian style. “First, I need you to do something for me.”

I already know what she wants. “I'm not going to rat you out to DeLuca.”

“That's not what I was going to ask you,” she says.

A smile touches the corners of her lips and I'm awestruck because it's a genuine smile, not one of her '
fuck you
' smiles. “Thank you for not ratting me out, though. It's greatly appreciated.” Her expression turns serious. “And just so you know—I'm not going to tell Tyrone or Jackson who you are. I promise.”

I sit down on the bed beside her and breathe a sigh of relief. “Thank you. Now, what do you need from me? Name it and I'll make it happen.”

She takes a deep breath before replying, “I need you to talk to Tyrone and persuade him to take me out on another date.”

I shake my head because I'm sure I heard her wrong. “
What
?”

Before she has a chance to say another word I'm on my feet. “I'm not helping you sink your hooks into my friends for DeLuca.”

She pulls her bottom lip between her teeth and stares down at the ground. “It's not for Bruno. It's for me.”

I don't like the sudden rush of anger that hits me with those words...and I
really
don't like that my first reaction to her statement is to find Tyrone and beat the living shit out of him.

And it has absolutely nothing to do with her being my father's girl
this
time.

I've never been the jealous type when it comes to women...probably because I never cared enough about any of them in the first place.

So the rush of jealousy that's currently working its way through me is bewildering.

I stuff it down and force myself to man the fuck up and face facts.

She's forbidden
.

I can't want her...I can't fuck her...and I
really
can't allow myself to care about this girl.

Doing any of those things will get everyone else I care about killed.

DeLuca wouldn't even bat a fucking eye while he did it, either.

I blow out a breath. “I don't think I can do that, Lou-Lou. I want to help you and work with you but not at the expense of my friends.” I practically choke getting my next words out. ”My father loves you.
Really
loves you. You're the most important thing in the world to him...even more important than me.”

She squeezes her eyes shut when I say this. “I know.”

She lets out a long sigh. “You're right. Tyrone's a good guy. I don't want to put him on Bruno's radar any more than he already is. I wasn't thinking, I was being selfish.”

“I take it you really like him then?”

And why wouldn't she? Tyrone's a much better man than my father is...a much better man than
I
am.

She contemplates this for a moment and shrugs. “I don't know. He's nice.”

I give her a look. “Wow, those are some pretty deep feelings for a girl who was about to put a man's life on the line all for a second date.”

“First.”

“Huh?”

Her cheeks flush and all I can think is how adorable it is. This is a side of her I've never seen before.

“That's why I wanted you to have him ask me out again,” she whispers. “I wanted a redo on my first date.”

Now I know I'm hearing things, surely that can't be right. “You've never been on a
date
before?”

She bites her thumbnail. “You promised you wouldn't judge any of my truths, remember?”

“I'm not judging. I'm just—shocked.”

“Why?”

Because you're the most beautiful girl I've ever seen in my life.

“Aren't you going to be like 24 at the end of this month?”

Those big brown eyes shoot fire at me and I know what's coming. Shit, I
could
have worded that better.

Before she has a chance to tell me off, I say, “I'm sorry. That didn't come out right.” I can't stop myself from uttering my next thought. “I can't believe my father's never taken you on a date before. How long have you guys been together?”

She thinks about this for a moment before answering, “I've been with him for 9 years. Well, that's when I
first
went to live with him. But we've been technically dating—if you can even call it that, for 6 years.”

My previous anger pales in comparison to the white hot venom I feel right now. “You've been living with him since you were
15
!” I scream so loud the windows shake.

She instantly ducks and brings her legs up to shield herself in some kind of defense stance.

My chest tightens and I drop down to my knees in front of her. “I'm sorry. I didn't meant to scare you.” When she lifts her head I add, “And just so there's no confusion, it's not you I'm angry with...it's
him
.”

She stands up and attempts to push me. “You don't understand!” she screams.

Yeah, I'll say.

“Please don't be angry with him...not for that.” Her voice drops to a whisper. “The day he rescued me was the
best
day of my life.”

She starts trembling and I don't want to cause her to freak out even more so I relent. “Okay, Lou-Lou. I won't argue with you.”

The trembles diminish and I decide, to press my luck. “Rescue you from what?”

She makes a run for it but I'm quicker than she is and I block the door. She pounds on my chest. “I'm
never
telling you,” she yells. “I
knew
it was a mistake to talk to you.”

Shit.
One step forward, three steps back.

“I'll stop pushing you about that. Please, don't leave.”

“Don't you have to be somewhere?”

She's right, I do. But—and I never thought I'd say this—this is more important right now.

I need her trust and I
really
need to know why DeLuca sent her to me.

“It can wait,” I tell her.

She studies my face. “You're putting off taking care of business for
me
?”

“I'm still standing here aren't I?”

When she doesn't answer I say, “Now can you please tell me the reason my father sent you here? I know what he wanted you to do but I just need to know
why
.”

She shakes her head and scowls. “I've already told you enough truths about me for the night, Ricardo. It's time I heard some of yours.”

I take a deep breath and walk over to the bed. “I don't like bathtubs because I watched my mother die in one. I've hated them ever since. That's why my bathroom doesn't have one.”

Her mouth falls open. “I'm so sorry.”

“Don't be, wasn't your fault.”

It was mine
.

She curls up beside me on the bed. “How did she die?”

I turn around to face her since she's lying down now. “Heroin overdose.”

She winces and closes her eyes. “That's horrible.” Her eyes pop back open and panic flashes across her face. “Oh my god, DeLuca killed her...didn't he?”

I want to ask her how she knows this but I don't have to because she says, “That's his method of killing those he once cared for. It's his way of making them go peacefully without any pain.”

Her words are shredding my insides apart because there's so much
wrong
with that statement and yet at the same time, it's the fucked up truth of how DeLuca operates.

The man is a fucking psychopath if there ever was one.

“He's only taken two lives via heroin,” she whispers.

It's true— out of all the soul's he's savagely killed, he's only shown an ounce of mercy to
two
of them.

His childhood dog...and my mother.

That's when it dawns on me—the fact that she knows all this means he
really
trusts her. She wasn't kidding, she's fully aware of what he's capable of.

And yet she
still
loves him.

But then again...who the hell am I to judge? Although I don't love him—there's a small part of me that still wants him to love me, wants him to accept me...and I fucking hate myself for that every day.

Especially knowing everything that I know.

Her eyelids become heavy. “Did you know he named his dog meatball?”

I didn't. Christ, what
else
does she know about him that I don't?

She yawns and stretches her arms above her head. I look out the window and notice that the sun is starting to come up.

“That's how he got the scar on his face,” she says. “Meatball did it. That's why he killed her.” She scrunches her face. “He killed the first bitch he ever loved. Those were his words, not mine.”

I don't doubt it.

She laughs and it's not one of those sweet laughs, it's one of those laughs to keep from crying type of laughs. “I guess I'm hoping the third time's a charm.”

Chills creep up my spine with those words because it's true...she's lucky number three.

At least, I hope she is.

“You'll stand a better chance if we're allies.”

“He's jealous of your relationship with Tyrone and Jackson,” she says. “He didn't come right out and say those exact words but I know it's why he sent me here. He thinks you've gotten too close to them and it upsets him.”

She looks at me. “He knows your loyalty lies with them and
not
him and he really hates that, Ricardo.”

“I know,” I whisper.

“He's expecting you to take over for him one day.”

“He knows I won't,” I argue.

“Look, do what you want but
that's
why he sent me here. He wanted me to cause a rift in the friendship between the three of you. I think he was hoping it would push you back to him and you would take over.”