Santas Testicle

C H A P T E R T H I R T Y E I G H T

Gun powder, leather and cookies.

It was the scent drenched in his bed linen. Even his other apartment didn’t smell like him. I kept my eyes closed, enjoying the warmth of his body on mine, the comfort of his high quality mattress and the happiness I felt in my heart.

“What the fuck is this Ace?” My eyes sprung open and I looked up at a man towering over the bed with a demonic expression that was sure to set me on fire just by his blazing gaze.

“Adrian?” I mumbled sleepily. “The drunk from the club?” Ace mumbled something sleepily in response.

“Get up! Get the fuck up!” He shouted, pulling the blankets off us. I pulled Aces T-shirt down lower trying to hide my panties.

“Aid, Jesus!” Ace complained.

“You fall for one girl and then bring her back here, are you insane?” Ace looked at me awkwardly and then back at Adrian. “The place is smashed to bits, her fucking home destroyed, for what? Pussy?”

“Well that’s rude.” I commented.

“I didn’t bring her here, she followed me.” Adrian clenched his fists tightly and then punched Ace right on the nose.

My eyes widened, expecting there to be a showdown, this lower level man who was known for misplacing his gun, drinking until he passed out and practically living at at club was in no place to be disrespecting Ace like this and getting away with it.

But instead Ace lowered his head, leaking blood from his nostrils all over the white bedsheets.

“I told you to be careful, I told you not to bring trouble back here. You fuck one whore and suddenly you’re breaking your own rules.”

“Hey!” I shouted.

“Why is she still alive? I knew you liked her but, fuck, this is taking it to whole new level.” His dark eyes peered into me, I looked at him sourly. “Fuck it, I’ll do it.”

I got up immediately ready to fight but Ace beat me too it, restraining Adrian and preventing him from coming close to me.

“I’m not fighting with you, I call the shots here Aid. Now you will treat my guest with respect, Red isn’t a threat... not today.”

“You’re a fucking fool, risking your daughter for a temporary fuck.” He shook Ace off of him and stormed out of the room.

Ace started dressing in silence, but I could tell he was mad I just didn’t know who he was mad at. Me, the drunk or himself.

“Who was that?” I asked, slipping on my own pants.

“Her dad.” My head darted in his direction. “Her other dad.” He clarified. “She’s mine, biologically but we raised her together. He’s just as much her dad as I am.”

“Her other dad is a drunk?”

“There’s so much you don’t know Red.”

“Where’s her mom?” Ace looked at me for a few seconds as if trying to figure me out. Then he turned back to his closet and continued dressing.

“We were young when we found out she was pregnant, we decided to keep it a secret. I told one person, Adrian. He was my best friend through high school, a nerd who loved hanging out in the library and science labs. I blended in with the geeks because I didn’t want anyone to find out who I was related to.

But I had this overbearing urge to protect Grace, even before she was born. I couldn’t let anyone in the mafia find out about her, including my father. I vowed to protect her always, so I trained harder. Learnt everything I needed to from my father. For the first time in my life I took it all seriously.

When Grace was born her mom abandoned her because she wasn’t what she wanted, she was born with a disability but to me she was perfect, extra chromosome and all.

Adrian moved in with me, he helped raised her from the day she was born. I taught him how to fight as well as me, I tested him and trialed him. Made my men torture him to see if he would give up Graces name or die for it. He survived because he loves her like she’s his own. I owe him everything.”

“So you let him drink at the club for free or-”

“You’re not getting it Red. Adrian has always been my right hand man. My second. He drinks water at the club and pretends to be drunk. You’d be surprised what people talk about around someone unconscious. He was my eyes and my ears whenever I wasn’t there. He was my surprise weapon whenever I needed it. Adrian can fight, maybe even as well as me.”

I followed Ace out, trailing behind his footsteps. The air was very tense and awkward between the three of us. Adrian had done some clearing up but ultimately the house was trashed. He shot me daggers through his eyes and I snarled at him but we didn’t communicate any spoken words. He wouldn’t speak to Ace either, like a stubborn child.

He was a strong looking man build-wise with thin facial hair and a sharp jaw. He lifted the Christmas tree and plugged the lights in, they flashed once before fizzling out. Ace scooped glass and bullets up with a dustpan and brush before tossing them into the trash.

“Daddy?” Grace appeared, rubbing her tired eyes and squinting at the mess. Her strawberry blonde hair laying in messy clumps on her head.

“Hey monkey!” Adrian lifted her up and carried her into the kitchen on his shoulder. “You want breakfast? Me and daddy gotta do a lot of cleaning today. I put some Christmas crafts on the table for you, see?”

Gracie looked at me, her opal blue eyes blinking sweetly. I stiffened instantly, terrified of this tiny human. “Would you help me?”

“Me?” I choked out, shocked.

“Did you not hear him? My dads gotta tidy, he didn’t say anything about you.” I side glanced at Ace. He was exchanging an uneasy look at Adrian.

“Observant and sassy.” I joked, mildly uncomfortable. “Okay kid, I’ll help you but you gotta show me what to do because I don’t know shit about Christmas.” Adrian sighed. “Fuck, sorry. Shit.”

“Great role model you’ve let into her life.” He commented sarcastically.

Gracie grabbed hold of my hand and pulled me towards the kitchen table. I watched her with interest, I had never been around any kids.

Hidden in the depths of the Valentino mafia family, none of my brothers had children and I had never been maternal enough to want any myself. The only baby dolls I played with were the ones I held hostage and tried to kill.

“Here.” Grace handed me a gun, a glue gun. I looked down at it in dismay. “We’re making a Christmas wreath.” She smiled at me sweetly and started organising baubles and tree ornaments into piles.

“Okay.” I answered, still puzzled by the craft gun.

She picked up a plain bauble and started painting it green. Her eyes floated up to me when I didn’t move and she took it upon herself to hand me over a fresh bauble, some paint pots and a paintbrush.

“Thanks.” God why was I so nervous? I think it was because I didn’t know what to do with a kid. With an adult I could kill them, threaten them or at least hurt them a bit. But this was a child, with adorable cheeks and her daddy’s eyes. What was I meant to do with her besides paint?

“So you’re my daddy’s girlfriend?” My paint brush smudged off the bauble with her words.

“No!” I practically screeched. She dipped her paintbrush in water and then collected up a different colour on the end. “I’m not his girlfriend.” I added, more calmly this time.

“Why not?” She stopped painting to look at me.

“Uhh...” her eyes traveled to look at Ace and I copied her. He was looking at us - no, not just looking - watching.

“What’s wrong with my daddy?” She folded her small arms across her chest and spoke with an accusatory tone.

“Nothing, I’m sure he’ll make someone very happy one day. That just can’t be me.”

“Because he hurt you?”

“No.”

“Then why?” She was a demanding little thing. I furrowed my brow, debating how to answer.

“Because we don’t like each other in that way. We were made to fight not f-” she blinked at me “not be friends.”

“That’s not true Gabriella.” She said, tipping a pot of green glitter onto her bauble. “You upset him a lot, I can tell.”

“Me?” I laughed. “What the hell did I do to upset him?”

“He has been upset for a while because he hurt a girl that he didn’t want to hurt.”

“That wasn’t me kid.” I laughed.

“You’re the only person he has ever brought home.” I failed to admit that he didn’t bring me home, I followed him. There was a huge difference.

“You are using far too much glitter.” I held her bauble up by the dangling thread and it sparkled catching the light. “This looks like Santas testicle.”

“What?” She asked with a small giggle.

“Nothing, keep going.”

I glanced at Ace again, he still had his eyes on us. Unable to relax with an actual serial killer sitting at the table Christmas crafting with his daughter.