Blame It on the Shame (Blame It on the Shame: Lou-Lou and Ricardo's Story #1) (3 page)

I sat up in my seat. “You have a daughter?”

He cursed under his breath. “No. I have a goblin.” He looked at me hard. “I trust that you would never tell your father about her..for obvious reasons. You don't strike me as the type of man to ever think it was okay to go after an innocent little girl.”

“No,” I said quickly. The thought that my own father could hurt his little girl made me sick. “
God
, no. Are you kidding? I swear, your secret's safe with me. No matter what happens.”

He visibly relaxed in his seat. “She'll be 10 in a few days. She's smart for her age, too. Very perceptive.” He beamed. “Greatest thing that ever happened to me, that goblin.”

I felt mildly jealous over how much this man loved his kid. I knew my father would never look at me in the same light.

I adjusted the side mirror's of the Ferrari. “It's kind of funny. My birthday's tomorrow, actually.”

“That
is
funny. Hers is on Halloween. Two days after yours.”

“That's probably why you call her goblin, huh?”

He gave me a side glance. “No, but that's why
she
thinks I call her goblin. My reason is much more profound than that.”

“You obviously really love her. She's lucky to have you.” I looked out the windshield. “I wish my father felt that way about me, but I'm cursed.”

“What do you mean?”

“He never wanted me. Up until two years ago, we didn't get along. I was pretty sure he hated me. I don't want the same things in life that he wants. I'm not like him, but it doesn't matter because I'll be forced to be. I know in the end no matter how hard I fight―I'll turn out just like him. Lately, every day that goes by I feel like I lose sight of who I really am.”

I looked down and snorted. “Look at that, I guess there is one thing I'm still scared of after all.”

He tapped his book and I followed his gaze to the car approaching us. “I'm going to need you to make a very difficult decision in the next few days. I want you to think long and hard about it because it will change your life.”

I nodded, already knowing exactly what it was he was going to ask of me soon. He wanted me to turn my father over to the feds.

And for the first time, I wanted to.

“I'll go out and make the drop-off,” he said. “You stay here this time.”

He opened the door and dropped his book on the seat.

“It's my favorite, but I think you'll be able to identify with the main character more than I ever could. There's also a passage highlighted that reminds me of you. Keep it, it's yours.”

With that, he walked out.

I picked up the book and quickly turned to the highlighted passage he was referring to.

“
Sometimes there is absolutely no difference at all between salvation and damnation
.”

He never returned back to the car after that. His buddy Ford showed up, and he took off with him.

What I didn't know, was that him leaving with Ford was one of my father's traps.

A set-up by his partner that would prove to my father that he was a cop.

To this day, I wished I'd made the drop-off and he had stayed in the car.

I wish I'd gotten a chance to make that deal with Graham.

Instead of the one with my father.

A heavy fist slammed into my face. “You know he's an undercover cop. Don't you?”

“I have no idea what you're talking about, Babbo,” I said. “Who?”

The fist slammed into my face again, this time, I picked my head up and assumed the defense stance. “That guy I told you to do the runs with this week. That's
who
,” he yelled. “You were supposed to tell me if he was trustworthy or not.”

“He is, “ I lied. “He's not an undercover. He's just a regular guy looking to make some money.”

His fist came again, but I blocked it and jabbed him. He reared back and I went after him again.

He might have weighed more than I did due to his heavy build, but he was no match for me and all my hour's boxing.

It was the first time I'd ever gone after him. The look on his face was priceless. Half proud, half pissed.

He raised his hand again but he didn't get the chance to use it because my fist connected with his face.

He spat blood at me and his nostrils flared.

“I'm disappointed in you,” he snapped. “Tomorrow you
will
learn your lesson about going against me. I'll see to it that you never do it again.”

With that, he stormed out of the room.

The lesson I was forced to learn came in the form of being locked in a car while watching him bash Graham's skull in with a crowbar.

On my 18
th
birthday.

All while his soon to be 10-year-old daughter watched.

I would never forget her eyes, they were the same as her father's.

I would never forget her screams as she watched my father take her father's life.

After we got home, I attacked my father with a vengeance I didn't know I had in me.

Uppercuts, jabs, hell even a few MMA kicks I'd learned.

“I will never—” I punched him. “Ever—” I sent a jab right to his nose. “Be like you.”

I finished off with an uppercut to his jaw.

I backed away and finally dropped my fists while blood dripped down his face. “I'm
done
. I'm not your son anymore. I'm fucking out.”

He stood up and laughed at me while taking a handkerchief out of his suit pocket. “You'll never be out,” he spat. “Half-breed degenerate or not...you're the only son I have.”

His jaw clenched. “I never believed in the curse before, but it must be true. Because how the fuck are
you,
my kid,” he sneered. “You don't even look like me.” His lips turned up in a snarl. “Except your eyes. Those eyes
are
mine. But other than that you look just like your whore of a mothe―”

He didn't get a chance to finish that sentence because I lunged and sailed my fist into his face again.

“Go ahead, Bruno. Say it again, I dare you. Call my mother a whore again and see what the fuck
I'm
capable of doing to
you
. You're not a man!” I screamed. “Look what you did today. I saw you take that man's life.
He
was a good man. And you stood there and
smiled
as―” I paused because I was hoping he didn't see that little girl after all.

His eyes gleamed. “As I what?” He took a step forward. “Watched that little girl cry and scream for her daddy as I killed him?”

He reached into his pocket for a knife and I backed up. “You're goddamned right I did. And I would do it again.”

“You really are Satan,” I whispered.

He tilted his head back and chuckled. “And
you're
my spawn. There's no way out of it. Don't ever let me hear you deny who you are again.”

I shook my head. “I'm
not
your son. We might share the same DNA. But I'm not yours. I'll never be you. You're dead to me.”

I turned on my heels and walked out of the room.

Only to feel something sharp pierce my arm. I flung my arm to attack but whatever one of his men had injected me with was strong.

Way too fucking strong.

Then I realized—it was the special DeLuca brand of heroin. Strongest brand of heroin to hit the East Coast.

Given I had absolutely no tolerance for the stuff, the effects were immediate.

I staggered until I fell on my knees and proceeded to throw up. That's when two of his men picked me up and tossed me in an SUV.

He only enlisted the use of his two best men and his SUV to do one thing.

Major drug deals or to kill someone.

I closed my eyes, let the euphoria wash over me and wished for death.

What felt like hours later, I was awoken by a sharp kick to the ribs. I opened my eyes and tried to take in my hazy surroundings.

The first thing I realized was that I was in a fairly small bathroom.

The second thing I realized was that it was a bathroom I recognized.

We were at my mother's apartment in the Bronx.

I saw DeLuca crouched down over the bathtub. He looked at me briefly before shutting off the water.

Then I saw who was in the bathtub. “Mom!” I screamed.

I hadn't seen her in years, but it didn't matter. She was still my mother and I would always love her.

Her eyes flickered and she moaned something unintelligible. “What's wrong with her?”

DeLuca pulled out a few syringes and that answered my question. I went to stand up but the bathroom door opened and his two big guard dogs took hold of my arms and forced me to sit back down.

“She's not dead yet, son,” DeLuca sneered. “I wanted to wait for you to wake up first.”

Chills ran up my spine. “Please, Babbo. I'll do whatever you want. Please don't hurt her.”

He'd already done that enough
.

“Too late for that.” He began to draw up the syringes with heroin. “I thought killing that cop would have taught you a lesson, but evidently not. You leave me no choice but to do this now.”