Riding Dirty: Luciotti Crime Family (A Bad Boy Mafia Romance) - Kara Hart Page 0,42

boots crunched down on glass and debris.

“I've had a hell of a night,” I said, smiling. My fists were eternally bloody and bruised. Shards of wood and glass penetrated my skin. I was a fucking wreck and so was everything around me. Who was I kidding? I was slowly becoming the man in front of me, another laughing stock from the Luciotti family.

“I don't think I can drive,” he laughed. “Drank half of a fifth of whisky on the way.” He smiled. The alcohol wafted around the room.

“Then we’ll hail a fucking cab,” I said. I needed to get out of the house. Anywhere but here. I lifted myself up and grabbed the car keys from his hand.

“Lucas, come on,” he barely protested.

“Since when do you care about playing it safe?” I asked him. “Fuck it. No one can touch us, right? We’re the Mafia, the underworld. We own these fucking cops. Right? That's what we always used to dream of. Remember?” I said, kicking a piece of wood out of the way, as I stumbled to his car. I got in and started the engine. Ricky quickly followed my lead.

“Just be careful, dammit,” he said, turning serious. “You know, fuck this. I'm driving.” I shrugged and switched seats with him. Safety wasn't an issue for me right now. If that car was to crash, what did I care? Within seconds, he had the window rolled down and was screaming to the world outside.

“I remember,” he said after some time.

“All our hopes? Our dreams of becoming the most powerful men in the business. Now look at us,” I said.

“Yeah. Now look at us. None of it mattered. Once we got there, it didn't seem so great did it?” he asked me. This was the first time in a long time I had seen Ricky turn serious.

“No. I guess it didn't. But it's my job, you know?” We both laughed at that idea.

“Yeah, some choose the 9-5 office life. We chose to kill and run illegal operations. All at the expense of our life,” he laughed.

“Yeah, well, it's not like we had any choice. Look at who our father is,” I said.

“Yes. Our father,” he sighed. There was an awkward silence, filled by the sound of our tires against the asphalt.

“You can have the title,” I finally spat out. “I don't give a shit anymore. You want to be the head of this family? Go for it.”

He laughed at the thought. “Are you kidding? I couldn't run this family. I've thought it over a million times. As much as I want it, I'm not the clear choice. You are, Lucas. You've always had a good head on your shoulders. I've always just been a mess. I know how much of a burden I am to you all,” he said.

I shrugged. This was our little pity party, driving to the ends of the earth and back. “I know where we can go!” He clapped his hands loudly and stepped down on the pedal. We were suddenly darting down the freeway, going 120 miles per hour. Destination: our death, most likely.

We pulled into a dingy parking lot, directly off the freeway. Above us was a neon sign with a giant woman on it that read “Skin Palace.”

“Interesting name,” I said, shaking my head.

“You've never been to Skin Palace? I don't believe it,” he said, jumping out of the car. It was one of the shadiest strip clubs I had ever seen. I got out of the car, but I wasn't very excited to check out the inside of the space.

“Couldn't we just find a bar or something more low key?” I protested. The fucking Skin Palace? Yeah, I had heard of this place. Dad’s friends all loved it. But I didn't think anyone my age actually went to the joint.

“There's drinks inside,” he declared. “And you clearly need a night out.”

The doorman didn't even check our ID’s and he damn well didn't take any money from us either. He knew who we were, who our family was. It was practically their job to know these things. “Have a good night, guys,” he said as we walked into neon, bass, and glitter.

I shielded my eyes against the artificial reality I now found myself standing inside. Tits, ass, and alcohol. What more could a man want? Well, this man didn't want these tits and asses. This man only wanted one ass in particular. Dahlia’s. Fuck what I was. Fuck what I came from. My family