Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 56378 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 282(@200wpm)___ 226(@250wpm)___ 188(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56378 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 282(@200wpm)___ 226(@250wpm)___ 188(@300wpm)
“But she’s not going to like try to be my best friend or talk to me like I’m an idiot. I don’t need a mommy.”
“She won’t push it, Destiny. But you’re only thirteen. It’s okay to be a kid sometimes.”
She looks at me with the bleak hopelessness in her eyes I’ve seen too often. “You’re living in a dreamworld if you think that, man. Those kids, over there, with their nine-to-five moms, knowing where their dinner’s coming from, they’re kids. Not me. I haven’t been a kid for a long time.”
“I disagree,” I tell her. “But I know better than to argue with you. I’ll probably wake up with my house covered in art, eh?”
She laughs, then seems pissed at herself for laughing. “You’re all right, Mr. Barberi.”
“You’re not bad yourself, Destiny. Ah—here’s my…” I hesitate for a beat too long. “Niece.” Arriana is wearing a form-hugging winter jacket. I’m not sure if all her outfits caress her curvy shape or if it’s just me hungrily seeing her shape no matter what she’s wearing. The cold has flushed her cheeks; her hands are in her pockets to keep them warm.
From our texting, it’s clear we’re silently agreeing to let whatever passed between us, well, pass. I called her Arriana. She called me uncle. We don’t need to have a conversation about it to know what we both mean. Considering I’m meeting with the Don later, it’s even more important to maintain my marriage lie. Any slipup could mean death—as if I needed more reasons not to fantasize about Arria’s kissable lips.
“Hey,” Arriana says, offering me a small smile, then turning to Destiny. “Hello. I’m Arria.”
“Destiny.” She stands and offers her hand. “Cool to meet you, I guess.”
“My uncle says you’re interested in photography,” Arria says as they shake hands.
Destiny shrugs. “Yeah, I guess. I don’t know.”
A lot of these kids have the same combination of characteristics. When you get to know them, they’re self-assured, cocky. But when meeting people, they’re withdrawn, almost as if they assume the person is judging them.
“Why don’t we take a walk through the park?” Arria says. “I’ve got my camera.” She pats the strap of her backpack. “You’re free to take as many photos as you want. Then, if you like, I can touch them up and send them to you. Or we can meet, and I can show you a little about the editing process.”
I watch with pride. She’s good at this. There’s a clear, strong, caring instinct in her.
Destiny smiles despite herself. “Uh, sure. That sounds pretty cool.”
“Let’s get to it, then.” Arria looks at me. “Uncle, do you need to come with us?”
She drives me nuts. I just want to grab her and kiss her. Don’t call me uncle again. “No, it’s fine, Arriana. Just stay where I can see you, just for safety. I trust you, obviously—”
“Obviously,” she cuts in, raising an eyebrow.
“But it’s policy.”
“Sure.”
I sit on the bench, watching them walk around the park together. They go to a tree on the opposite side, Arria taking out her camera and talking animatedly with Destiny. I can’t help but scan the surroundings, looking for any signs of the mob. No one is following me. No one is watching me. After so many years as an enforcer, I’ve developed an awareness of these things.
It's better that things end this way. Last night, I talked to Lucy about what Arria told me. Lucy’s face went pale. “We need to be more careful.” I didn’t bother telling her, ‘I told you so.’ I’ve got no right to rub it in her face after last night.
In bed, I did something bad, something I knew I shouldn’t have before, during, and after I did it. I let my hand stroke down my body, gripped my cock, and rubbed as I remembered the kiss, the feel of her wet haven, the taste of her lips, the sound of my niece’s moans. I almost get lost in the memory, the fantasy. Thankfully, I hear a horn honk that breaks the spell.
I turn to watch Arria as she takes some photos of Destiny next to a tree. Destiny is going for the tough look, fists clenched, staring off into the distance. Then it’s Arria’s turn. I wander over… or maybe that’s a lie. I walk over because I want to see Arria posing. When I invited her here, it might’ve involved canceling another photographer and consciously choosing to spend more time with her instead of taking the safe route and staying away from her as I should.
I’m a deluded idiot.
Arria leans against the tree. Her lips pout, looking past the camera and right at me. My heart thunders in my chest. She changes position, turns around, and looks over her shoulder. She looks devastatingly beautiful. Then she laughs, and her cuteness overwhelms me. “Was that silly?”