Packing up boxes, I had a week to find something. Mia had found a place right away that would take her. We both had been looking for me, but nothing was coming up that was decent. I was growing frustrated with the whole deal. Dad had called to speak to me after finding out from a friend that someone had spotted me with Marco. It was more like he was trying to get information from me and I wasn’t doing it. I shut him down right away, telling him it wasn’t important.
Marco and I had exchanged phone numbers in case he came across something, a rental I could get last minute. Mia had mentioned I could come stay with her until I found something, but I couldn’t do that. I wanted my space.
Getting a hotel was an option, but it would be expensive and I would have to put my things into storage. Running my hands through my hair, I sighed. I had to figure something out quickly.
Checking my phone, I had a text from Marco. I hadn’t intended to actually answer him, but I accidentally hit the phone button, and he picked up before I could hang up.
“Hello, Did you see the text I sent you?”
“Oh, Yeah, I did.” I had not. I didn’t have time before my blunder.
“Right, so Romeao said you’re welcome to an apartment in the complex he owns, but I don’t think it’s a safe option.”
“I need it, Marco. Safe or not.” I hissed with frustration, heavy in my voice.
“I’ll take you to see the place, but I don’t think it’s a wise idea, Ambrose.”
“I get that, but I need it. I can always find something later.”
“I can take you to see the place tomorrow then, I just need to get Romeao to watch—-”
“Just bring him, unless it’s a safety thing.” I muttered. I wanted to see his little one again. He was cute.
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah, your son doesn’t bother me in the slightest. I’m used to kids.” I said, stating the truth. I have been around so many kids now with my profession.
“If you’re alright with it, then I will bring Wren. I don’t see it being dangerous for him.”
“Don’t put off spending time with your child for my comfort.” I said, being serious. I could only imagine he was used to having to find someone to watch his son often.
“Alright.”
He hung up then, and I glanced around my apartment, still feeling like I was going to pull my hair out. I bought boxes when I got my car back from the bar, and yet here they were, still empty and not even folded. I didn’t even know where to start. It was a lot of work. I hadn’t even given my notice yet, because I was worried about not finding another place. I hoped that this place Marco had suggested was going to work, even for a short time. Just until I could find something better. Otherwise, I was royally fucked.
Taking a few of the boxes, I headed into the kitchen and started packing away anything I really didn’t use, which was ninety per cent of everything I owned. I didn’t have the time or energy to cook most times after work. I worked a lot of overtime so that I could have extra cash for fun things and times.
By the time I actually get back to work, I will have missed nearly a damn month of work and overtime pay. That was a lot of money I could use. The bonus was the only reason I was doing this. I needed the bonus now.
Hunting through the house, I finally found a permanent marker to mark the box as unused kitchen junk. Looking around the kitchen at all the rest of the things I owned, from the fancy coffee maker to the computer on my island. This place has been my home for the last eight years. My entire life and career were here.
Sighing, I couldn’t believe I had been doing this career choice for eight years. The things I had learned from twenty to twenty-eight were astounding. I had also unfortunately confronted both death and the limits of the human body.
Folding another box up, I loaded it full of plastic containers, cups, and plates. I had long given up on glass plates and cups. Plastic was just cheaper to replace in the end, and harder to break.
By midnight, I packed up most of the kitchen and some of the living room. I was going to need many more boxes just for the living room. My apartment was looking like a shell of its former self. Shaking off the sleep that crept in, I had one more box in the living room I wanted to pack up before heading to bed. Carefully stacking my books in the box, I was careful to make sure they wouldn’t get bent or torn before closing the box. Marking the box, I closed it up and sighed as flicking the kitchen light off. Laying down on the couch, I was hungry again, but I was far too exhausted to make anything.
Sitting up with a start, the sound of banging on my door had me tripping over my feet to get to the door to make the sound stop. Yanking open the door, my father stood there, looking unamused.
“Did you just get up? It’s noon, Ambrose.”
“Hi to you too. I had a long night packing up my apartment. What are you doing here?”
“You’ve been ignoring my texts and calls, and when we spoke, you were ignoring my questions.”
“Your questions were about Marco and why I was seen with him. Which, by the way, isn’t your business. I’m a grown ass man.” I muttered, closing the door now that he had come inside.
“I’m your father. Your business is my business, Ambrose. Even more so when it comes to Marco Di Salvo. He is a dangerous man with a violent—---”
“I am aware. Pretty fucking aware, thank you.” I hissed.
“You know about what he did to his ex-husband, then?”
“He told me about his past, and his ex husband all on his own. So yes, I know some of it, probably not all of it. But I don’t care to hear his dirty laundry from you.”
“Ambrose he could—-”
“Need I remind you that cops are far from perfect too? They hurt people—-”
“Enough.”
“So it’s only fine to bring up violence when it’s the mafia. Got it.” I hissed, annoyed with his two-sided behaviour.
“It’s not like that. But we don’t need to argue about that subject right now. I want to know why the hell they saw you with Marco. If he did something to you, you need to tell me right now. I can make sure whatever the reason is, is dealt with.”
“There is no reason other than he is being far more helpful than you’ve been, honestly.”
“Ambrose, he choked you! How can you actively be around him? He’s dangerous?”
“We have an understanding right now.”
“And that is?”
“That is none of your business. And even if it was, I still wouldn’t tell you.” I said flatly, looking right at him. His face instantly showed his dislike of the comment I made.
“You’re going to wind up dead somewhere because of this attitude of yours towards all this shit.”
“Says the man who takes bribes from mafia men. But hey, continue on, I guess.” I sighed, heading to make a cup of coffee. “Want coffee?”
“If that’s alright with you, then yes.”
“Wouldn’t offer it if it wasn’t.” I replied, dropping a single serve coffee in the coffeemaker and closing the lid before placing the one of the two coffee cups I left out under neath. Hitting the button, I wanted for the very pleasing hiss sound to show that this coffee was done. Removing the one cup, I tucked the other underneath and repeated the steps from before. Setting the coffee on the counter, looking at dad.
“Here, coffee is done. Milk, cream and sugar are in the same places for now. Help yourself.”
“Thank you. And as much as you hate it, moving isn’t a bad thing. You will be free from most of the mafia around here, minus a few here and there. Marco, being one.”
“What about the family Marco is from? They must not be that far.”
“Romeao’s family is outside of our district and that town’s limits. It’s about a half hour drive from his ‘home’ to where you will be in town.”
“Marco lives in the city. Nice place.” I muttered.
“I said there were a few.” My dad said as he took a sip of his coffee.
Grabbing ice cubes out of the freezer, I dropped them into a fresh cup and poured cream in the cup before adding the hot coffee. Ice coffee was exactly what I needed to deal with him right now. And Marco, later.
I was waiting for Marco to text or call and say he was ready to show me the apartment. If I actually took the place, and chances were, I would. My dad was going to lose his ever loving mind.
“Your mother is pissed about this whole thing. The choking incident and the fact you’re moving.”
“Not by my choice.”
“She is aware of that. She’s just pissed because neither of us made her aware of the changes.”
“Nothing for her is really changing, though. Honestly, she will still work long hours and travel for work all the time. We can still have that once a month large dinner that she needs to feel grounded here after coming home.”
“Ambrose. Money is very important to your mother, you know this.”
“Dad. I know, trust me. It was me, my entire teenage years, that listened to her complain about my marks and how she didn’t come to this country to have a son who wastes his brain doing ‘cosas tontas’ (dumb things).”
“Your mother is your mother and you can’t change her, Ambrose. She only wants what was best for you.”
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