Total pages in book: 16
Estimated words: 14779 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 74(@200wpm)___ 59(@250wpm)___ 49(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 14779 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 74(@200wpm)___ 59(@250wpm)___ 49(@300wpm)
He doesn't like being told this. I can see it in his eyes.
“Watch your back, Diaz. Destiny, you could have had it all.”
“I already do. Why don't you give your fiancée this kind of attention? God knows what she sees in you. You should probably hold on to that.”
Damn. She is a little bit vicious. I fucking love it. We turn our backs to Richey, which probably isn't smart and head back to our table.
“Pick up a stripper did you, Al?” Theresa asks.
“Don't be a bitch, T. We need to go. I may have started some shit with that piece of shit of Richey Santucci.” No other words are needed as everyone gathers their coats. It's then that I see Autumn's coat is full of holes and rips. It's also about two sizes too small and wouldn't keep anything warm. Her bare legs are going to freeze. Her ridiculous uniform has to go. I take mine off of the back of the booth and hold it out to her.
“I couldn't. What about you?” she asks, trying to push my coat back at me.
“I have another in the car,” I say smoothly.
“Okay,” she says, letting me help her into it. We walk out of the club. The limo pulls up in front of us. “I can't ride in that,” she says, looking distressed.
“Alright, Lolita, we'll grab a cab,” I say, trying to figure out why she is against the limo ride. Most women would jump at the chance, I assume. I wouldn't have any idea. The first and last woman I was with was prom night ten years ago. She was looking for a ring, and for a way to trap me. I never let it get that far. I've been too busy to think about women until now. All I can think about is fucking my baby into Autumn. Breeding her until she is stuck by my side for eternity. Fuck, I feel like a caveman.
“Thank you,” she says looking down at the broken concrete of the sidewalk.
“I'll see you guys tomorrow, tell Mama we'll be there at eleven.” I watch as they get in the limo and it takes off. Not four minutes after they've left does my phone ring. I chuckle answering it. I know that if I don't, she’ll call me a million times.
“Hey Mama,” I say.
“You met a woman?”
“Yes. Her name is Autumn. I need you to set two more spaces at the adult table. There will be three more babies there as well. We may need an additional nanny.” Autumn's eyes get so wide, they look like they will bust out of their sockets.
“You're bringing a girl home, Alberto. After all these years. I can't wait to meet her. Who's coming with her?”
“Her mama and three siblings.”
“Theresa said she's a stripper.”
“No, Mama.”
“It wouldn't matter, I was just checking. I want to see you happy. Is she Italian?”
I put my hand over the phone and whisper, “Are you Italian?”
“Fuck yes,” she says smiling. My mom bursts out laughing, so I know she heard her.
“Thank you. I am happy and she is Italian.”
“Perfect. I like her already. I love you, son.”
“I love you too, Mama. See you tomorrow,” I say, hanging up.
“Sorry about that.”
“No problem. You're taking my family to your family's Thanksgiving dinner?”
“Of course,” I say. Where else would she go? She’s got me by the balls already.
A cab pulls up and we get inside.
“Where do you live, baby?” I ask.
She gives the driver an address in a rough neighborhood in Brooklyn. When the cab pulls up to the apartment building, I give the driver a hundred-dollar bill to keep the meter running. I tell him there's another when we get back. We start up the stairs and all along the way I don't like what I'm seeing. There's used needles and little plastic baggies on every floor, broken beer and liquor bottles scattered around and just straight up garbage everywhere. The sixth-floor apartment is probably the cleanest one in the building. There are a few toys scattered here and there, but it sparkles.
“Where are your siblings?”
“In bed. So is my mom. It's late.”
I can't leave them here. I just don’t have it in me.
“Wake them. We are getting out of this dump.”
“Hey, this our home,” she says, turning to look at me.
“Not anymore,” I say, moving closer to her. My hand gripping her hip.
“Has anyone ever told you that you’re very bossy?” I grin.
“I've been told that a time or two,” I answer wryly.
“Be that as it may, we can't just leave. I don't even know you…” She trails off.
“You will. I know you feel this. It can't be one-sided.”
“I know, but still.” At least she is agreeing with me.
“But nothing. I knew after the first look we shared, I was gonna wife you and give you babies.”