Page 61 of The Diávolos: Part One
“I’m sorry for being so absent lately. But I’m here now.”
“Ton agapás?” Do you love him?he asks as he slowly looks up at me.
I stare my friend in the eyes and I can see he’s one more blow away from breaking.
“No, I don’t,” I reply, calmly.Not yet.
“Just make sure you know what you’re getting into, Ang. Be careful.”
I nod, but I’m confused as to what he’s talking about.Be careful?Does he know something I don’t? He leans his body back onto the wall behind the bench and stares at the ceiling, letting out a long exhale.
“What do you mean?” I ask.
“Never mind. Just don’t rush into anything. Promise me,” he pleads. But it might be too late. I feel as though Evan and I have passed the point of no return. His obsession with me will never allow him to let me go, and the feelings I have toward him only get stronger by the minute. Our so-called relationship has been on fast-forward since the day he laid eyes on me and began stalking me. I can’t give Gianis my word, but I can’t lie to him either. I don’t know what to do.
“Why have you never told me about your feelings?” I ask, my voice a low murmur.
He fiddles with the hem of his gym shorts and lets out a breath. “I didn’t think I could,” he admits, quietly.
“Gianis, I had the biggest crush on you growing up. You knew it, everyone did. You could’ve saidsomething.” I’m almost angry at him. How could he keep this from me all this time? He was aware of my crush. I don’t know what the future would’ve held for us had we acted on our feelings, but we could’ve at leasttried.
“I know, Ang. But you were so young, and when I decided to work for your father, I didn’t think you would still consider being with me,” he explains.
“You couldn’t have known that,” I respond, tears forming in my eyes.
“I thought I had more time,” he whispers, and I can see the sorrow in his expression for something that will never be.
My composure breaks and I cry—ugly cry— for what we could’ve been. It may not have worked in our favor in the end, but now I will be haunted by the what-ifs. I know I would’ve still been worried about potentially damaging our friendship, but at the time, I would’ve jumped on the opportunity to be with him.
“I love you, G,” I say, reaching for his hand. “You’re my best friend. I hate to see you in pain. But I can also see the love you have to give; the love I wish you would’ve given me years ago.” I lift his hand to my cheek and close my eyes, letting the tears fall down my face. “But I’m not the right person for you now. I hope that one day you’ll realize I don’t deserve to be loved by you and that you’ll find your own person.”
Gianis stares at me for a long moment, and then simply nods, his silence speaking more than a thousand words. Sometimes it’s the best answer.
He cups my face with both hands, and I cry, knowing I just broke him. I brokeus. He wipes away my tears with his thumbs and leans in to give me a kiss on the forehead. I close my eyes and bask in the moment. After a few seconds, he lets go and lifts himself off the bench. With one last look, he walks back to the boxing ring.
I ripped out a piece of my heart that I will never get back by hurting him, but I needed to let go of the little part of me that still held on to him. We will always be friends, and I will always love him, but I know things will never be the same between us.
“Nice guys finish last.” –Leo Durocher
My men are already at the warehouse, preparing for the shipment, when I arrive with Dion. It took lots of convincing for him to let me tag along, but he ultimately had no choice. I compromised by agreeing to bring Seb and Greg as extra backup.Not like they weren’t going to tag along, anyway; I don’t go anywhere without them.
I feel sorry for whoever Dion marries because he will suffocate her with overbearingness.
A truck backs into the warehouse through the dock door. I give the guys a nod and we slowly place our hands on our guns. I’m still wearing a sling, so I reach for my weapon with my free hand.
The driver gets out of the truck and gives us a small wave. I acknowledge it and ask him to open the doors so we can inspect the merchandise. He obliges and my men proceed to check the cargo boxes. It’s the first huge shipment we’ve received since my uncle passed away, so it’s very important for this transaction to go smoothly. This will decide whether we level up and take over the city or get trampled on by the other families who think us weak.
My hand rests on my handgun, while I wait for Dion to emerge from the truck. When he does, he gives me a nod of approval, and I hop into the cargo hold to examine the ammo. The boxes carrying the bullets are sealed shut, so I order Greg to pry one open with a crowbar. I bend down to take a good look, and the faint smell of sulfur hits my nose. Most modern propellants have an acrid bite. I toy with a bullet in my hand to feel the weight and balance of it. Every measure of lead and powder is carefully reproduced to ensure consistent behavior of the bullet through the air. The rounds were sent from Albania, passing through Greece. So, it’s important for me to oversee the loading of the ammunition to guarantee quality and legitimacy.
I dislodge my pistol and load it with one hand, aiming to the sky. I shoot, taking note of the way the bullet travels through the air. Satisfied, I call the others to unload the boxes. This deal will be ours, and I’m ready to run the city, with my angel by my side.
* * *
My brain can’t manageany more interaction, so I leave with every intention of passing by the club to check on things. Instead, I head home and make a stop on the way.
I lean against my car in the parking lot of the gas station near my apartment building. I pull out the pack of cigarettes I just bought from the back pocket of my jeans. I don’t usually smoke, but I need some sort of stress release right now.
I fumble with the package, managing to take out a cigarette with one hand. I put it to my lips and light it. I take a long drag and inhale the toxins, blowing out the smoke as I tilt my head back to look at the dark sky.
