I’m so fucked up over having to kill her. Or having killed her, depending on whether they think I went through with it already.
I take another shot. I’m so fucking drunk.
What was I thinking? Like I could just keep her, and that would solve the problem? She saw. They saw. She has to die. It’s as simple as that. But I don’t want that. And I always get what I want. It’s not fucking happening. I won’t let it happen.
“Did you take care of that issue?” Anthony asks looking at my mangled hand. Everyone keeps looking at it. I know what they’re thinking. And I fucking hate it.
“Which issue?” I ask sarcastically. I know he’s talking about Elle. But the fucking cartel is a pain in my ass, too.
I put the edge of another shot glass against my lips and shake my head before throwing it back. My body starts to tingle, and my teeth seem to go numb. Good. I want to be fucking wasted. My phone stopped going off in my pocket a little while ago. I take it that means someone told Pops that I’m here. I wonder what he thinks. Specifically, what he thinks of her. Not to mention what he thinks of me and my fucked up decisions.
“It’s not like she’s yours, Vince. It fucking sucks.” Anthony puts a hand on his chest. “She was just in the wrong place, at the wrong time. I fucking hurt for her, I do.” I can see it in his eyes that he doesn’t like it, that he does have remorse. “But this is the entire family we’re talking about.” I nod my head solemnly. “If she talks, we’re fucked.” He takes a drink of his beer. “She’s not one of us. She’s not a comare. They’ll make her talk. You know how they harass anyone who comes in here. If they saw her, they’ll make her talk.”
I take another swig and almost choke as the perfect solution hits me. I need to knock her up. I need to marry my sweetheart. They won’t touch her if she’s mine. No one will touch her if she’s mine. And if I get my way, she’s going to be mine. And the police can’t make her testify against me if she’s my wife. No one will be able to threaten her.
She. Is. Mine. I repress the need to scream it into everyone’s face. I want them all to know. She’s not going anywhere. I push away from the bar and slide off the stool. It wobbles, then tips over as my feet hit the ground. I walk forward and reach for my car keys in my pocket.
“Whoa, Vince. What the fuck, dude?” I hear Anthony pick up my stool, then come up behind me, grabbing at my elbow to make me stop.
“I gotta go,” I say simply. I do. I need to get back to Elle. He walks in front of me to stop me in my path.
“You’re trashed, man.” I shrug my shoulders.
“She needs me, Anthony.” I’m vaguely aware that the bar is quiet. I can feel their eyes on me. I know everyone in here. It’s all familia. And they’re all watching.
“Hey, calm down. Let’s talk this out, Vince,” he says. I shake my head and take a step closer to him.
“She’s mine,” I growl in his face. His hands come up in a gesture of surrender.
“Alright. I get that. No one’s taking her from you.”
“Damn right no one’s going to touch her!” I scream it as loud as I can. I feel like a fucking fool. It’s not smart to yell. It’s not wise to lose your cool. But I can’t fucking help it. I want everyone to know she’s mine. I run my fingers through my hair, then take a deep breath. “I’m gonna make her mine and no one’s going to hurt Elle.” I stare at him as I speak calmly, but everyone here knows I’m talking to them, too. From my periphery I can see my men nodding.
“No one’s going to touch her,” Anthony says, and I feel Tommy come up to my right side and lay a hand on my shoulder.
“You need a ride, boss?” he asks.
“Yeah, I need to get back to her, Tommy.” My words slur a bit and I pinch the bridge of my nose as we walk towards the doors.
“You know, I feel bad for your girl, Vince,” Anthony says from behind me loud enough for everyone to hear.