Romeo of the Streets

Published by Choco Lune Imprint 2014

Copyright Taylor Hill © 2014

This Edition Published at Smashwords

This book and its contents are the property of Taylor Hill and Choco Lune Imprint and may not be copied, shared or re-sold without prior permission from the author or publisher. This book is a work of fiction and all characters and situations depicted within should be considered as such.

All rights reserved.

For Ross. You’re always there…

Chapter One: My Double Date from Hell

Field Report: Eden Nightclub 15:45—SALVATORE

Chapter Two: My Whole World Implodes

Field Report: The Streets 23:25—ROMEO

Chapter Three: My Ultimatum

Field Report: Angel Station 23:40—FERRET & EYEBALL

Chapter Four: My Time Apart

Field Report: FBI Headquarters 10:15—ROMEO

Chapter Five: My Treacherous Libido

Field Report: Eden Nightclub 14:30—LOU

Chapter Six: My Rationality

Field Report: Campus 13:20—SALVATORE

Chapter Seven: My Whole World Implodes—Again

Field Report: Eden Nightclub 21:30—ROMEO

Chapter Eight: My Number One Regret

Field Report: Meat Locker
(exact location undisclosed)
00:00—ROMEO

Chapter Nine: My Fallen Hero

Epilogue: Dawn

Afterword

Sometimes your entire life can change on the spin of an imperceptible needle, launching off in an unimaginable trajectory, which begins, on the surface at least, as a moment like any other. As it happens you are oblivious, preoccupied, but looking back you always know it for exactly what it was—that single instant when the tides of fate finally rebelled against your ordinary life and shoved you forward into something far more meaningful, fulfilling and, yes, finally even terrifying. For me, it started that day in Gino’s Café, with Lisa as we waited for the others, and if I had any idea then of the unbelievable new direction life had in store for me I think I would have ran a million miles. Now though, even after everything that happened, I wouldn’t change a thing. Of course I wouldn’t…

Even as I was sitting there, the February sun spilling in through the windows of the empty café illuminating the red and white
-
checked tables around us, I was still unsure of why I’d actually agreed to do this. Could any good from the arrangement? Sure, I loved the big dumb galoot, but it wasn’t as if I owed Lisa my support or assistance here, no matter how close we were. After all, I reasoned, by caving in and agreeing to join her on the “date” I was really doing her a
disservice
, wasn’t I? If she wanted to get involved with my moronic, posturing, typically alpha-male brother and his messed up lifestyle and poorly-thought out choices then I should have been doing anything in the world
other
than actually assisting her in making such a terrible mistake—shouldn’t I?

And yet here I was, the squeaky fourth-wheel to a total freakshow of an automobile that was just this minute tearing down the highway of life, about to burst into unholy existence, and no amount of oil or TLC was going to silence my squeaking about it this time. It was enough that I’d even agreed to be here in the first place. If Lisa thought my role at the table was to be the second feminine presence in the double date that would satisfy her and Lou’s bizarre attempt at doing something “coupley” then she could go ahead and think whatever the heck she liked.

No, I was here as
chaperone
only, to watch over her and watch out for her and, if I’m being honest, to watch to see if I could figure out just why in the world was she suddenly interested in Lou in that way to begin with—because I was well and truly stumped in that regard. And as for the second
masculine
presence in this upcoming tête-à-tête-(à)-tête-à-tête? Well I could only imagine what kind of unsavory tough guy jerk Lou would be dragging along with him this time.

The Café was quiet that day, something that would have usually caused me to worry (it was after all the sole livelihood for both Gino and myself), but now it felt more like a saving grace. At least this way nobody would be around to see Lou embarrass himself with his over-the-top posturing. It was truly cringe-worthy, especially here on the Orange Grove, the close-knit Italian-American neighborhood we grew up in and where everybody had known us since childhood. The fact that it was known that Lou had had a good education and a (mostly) decent upbringing only made it worse when he acted the way he did, because people would know that he was capable of better. In fact only a few short years ago, I remember him as a gangly, bookish high-schooler with thick glasses and a mild but pervasive shyness—two years older than me but somehow almost
younger
, if that makes sense—and no matter what he did now I felt certain that that was how everybody else remembered him too.
(And ok, so maybe he had more excuses than most people to lash out and rebel, but didn’t I as well? And when had I ever acted out or behaved impulsively or let my emotions get the better of me? Never. Somebody in this family had to keep their head on straight—if you could even call it a family at all anymore, which was, in fairness, up for debate…)

“You girls are looking more radiant than usual, eh? Must be some special guys today, eh, husband material!”

Gino laughed heartily to himself as he swept up the unused saucers off the table and replaced them with ones that were only marginally newer, his chuckle rumbling up all the way out of his paunchy stomach and causing his faded old apron to quiver with delight.

“Hardly,” I smiled, “like I said earlier Gino, it’s only Lou and his friend—and really you don’t need to freshen the table, we’ve only been here for a few minutes.”

“Eh,” Gino shrugged in that old passive Italian way that comes on somewhere far past the fuming and possessive young stallion stage and paradoxically seems like its exact polar opposite in manhood. “You two make even the newest dining-ware appear shabby in comparison. Are you sure these boys aren’t something special to you, no? Looking so beautiful the two of you…”

Lisa’s eyes shone with enjoyment as she smiled up at him, lips painted with a dark purple gloss to set off the streak in her dyed-blonde hair. “Gino, you old cad,” she grinned, “I bet you were one to watch back in the day…”

Gino threw up his arms in a quasi-self-deprecating shrug that seemed to say: well… I’ll never tell.

“Hey, seriously,” I said, “it’s just a casual coffee is all. Why don’t you go upstairs and take it easy. Have you eaten lunch yet? If anybody comes in I can serve them.”

“And distract you from more important things? Not at all Sandra. My Café, my rules. Sit!”

Gino could be commanding when he wanted to be. I bet Lisa wasn’t wrong when she guessed at his rakish younger days. Before I could protest Gino was off on the rounds, singing to himself in old Italian as he wiped the already-spotless tablecloths of the other tables around us. Lisa shot me a wide-eyed excited look like she’d really gotten a kick out of the old coot’s playful teasing. Gino was great. He was like the father who hadn’t failed me.

They were typically and irritatingly late—to be expected from Lou and his arrogant attitude to life—although I have to admit that when I looked up to see my brother at the door I was surprised by how much he’d changed since the last time I’d seen him, which had only been about a month or so previous. First of all there was the hair, now shaven right to the skin and causing his caramel-colored flesh to end in a shiny perfectly-rounded dome at the top of his head. Then there was the goatee and the ear-ring. Wow, he actually looked ok—not that I’d be letting him know that I thought so, of course—Lou didn’t need any fresh excuses to further inflate his new-found ego.

But still, he was my brother and I loved him so I couldn’t help but smile when I heard the bell ring and glanced up to see the jerk pushing open the clear-glass door to enter. What I guessed to be an equally-involuntary grin spread out over his face as he let out an arrogant shout.

“Oh! Two beautiful women! What have we done to deserve it?”

Lisa jumped up to run to my brother, leaning up to kiss him on the cheek and instead of cringing at the sight of them, my eyes focused on the shape of the guy behind them as he came into view.

Yes, he was kind of exactly like I would have expected and yet somehow he wasn’t at all—not even in the least bit—and if you want me to explain what I mean by that then you’re out of luck, because I wouldn’t have been able to tell you then and I certainly wouldn’t attempt it now.

But I can tell you in detail what he looked like, yes I can tell you that at least. The man behind Lou—and he was a man, I could tell that immediately, even if he was roughly the same age as Lou’s still-boyish 21 years—was a little bit taller than my brother, with a similarly well-toned and muscular build that was probably requirement number one for guys like him when they set out to make their street-cred, although the way he carried himself was totally different to Lou and yet somehow still
kind of
similar. He radiated the same aura of toughness, but without any of the effort that Lou seemed to go to great efforts to expel.

Yes he was, in his black leather biker’s jacket, boots and jeans, an obvious threat in his every intimation but somehow, also unlike Lou, it wasn’t because he was trying to be. He just
was
. And his face, paler than Lou’s and made even more so because of the dark almond eyes that shimmered from his solemn expression, it was—forgive me—it was beautiful. He wore his hair longer and slicked back in that traditional Italian way that always kind of irked me but now somehow only further intrigued me, as if hundreds of thousands of old-blooded Sicilian generations were calling me back to the homeland through an eternity of primacy and lust and destiny and—

Yes, all this flashed through my mind in the space of a second or two, before I had time to catch myself and pull myself together. Jeez, thousands of generations of primacy and lust? I needed to get out more, seriously.

But damn, even though I was sure I’d want nothing to do with him once he opened his mouth, I couldn’t help but admit that whoever he was, this guy was the sexiest thing I’d seen this side of a TV screen in months, maybe even years. Shame about the company he keeps, I thought.

The guy looked back at me, his big round
eyes peering at me in a way that I couldn’t quite read but seemed to suggest something like… I don’t know, powerful interest or something? Whatever it was, I looked away quickly, remind
ing myself that I was here as chaperone,
only
.