Honest

sixteen

I wake up in his bed. Again.

Damnit this has got to stop!

He sits up, leaning on his elbow. “So I was thinking... let's go to Hawaii?"

“Why? So you can kill me and dump Myra body?"

He snorts, his abs peaking out from under the covers. “Of course not. If I was gonna do that, I wouldn't take you to Hawaii. I'd do it here.”

So comforting.

“I can't go. I don't have a passport.”

He pulls me into his arms. “You're adorable. You don't need a passport.”

Um even though that's totally true, US customs won't think so.

I tell him this.

“Then I'll ask for a supervisor, kill him, have one of men impersonate him and then we'll go,” He explains cheerfully.

I narrow my eyes. “That's...that's just mindless violence.”

He shrugs. “That's what happens when you lie to me gattina. Mindless violence."

I swallow. Is that a threat?

He kisses my forehead. “Of course, you can always say no. My mother taught me forcing women to do things was despicable. And I'm terrified of her.” He smiles.

“What's her name?"

“Manon Vitale. She's about this tall,” He holds his hands to his chest, “This mean,” He holds his hand up a little higher, and this beautiful," He holds his hand above his hand grinning childishly.

It's cute.

“Why would you trust me?”

“It's common knowledge anyway. Besides," He grins, “If you ever try to hurt her, I'll kill you! If my father doesn't first.” He drops his mile. “He's like a guard dog. Even worst than Brutus.”

“Who's Brutus?” I ask.

“The guard dog."

I nod. Makes sense.

“Anyway— about Hawaii—"

“Hey, hoebag," A woman burst in the door.

I thought she was addressing me, but she wasn't.

“I told you not to call me that," He sighs.

“Fine, bitchfish.”

“That doesn't even make sense,” He scoffs.

“Whatever," She pops her gum, ignoring me. Pulling out a knife she starts....whittling away at the door.

“Why are you doing that?”

She shrugs. “Mindless vandalism.”

He sighs, getting out of bed.

“This is my sister Febe. She's a raging lunatic, not unlike yourself. She's adopted."

Febe carved into the wood, flipping her middle finger.

“I'm glad I'm adopted. You're a bunch of weaklings."

And there it was. My partner in crime. My second. Possibly my new best friend.

And her nails are gorgeous!

“Don't you hate when you're adopted and the only representation you have is spineless men who are supposed to be gangsters."

She paused, glancing at me. She pulled her knife from the door, pointing it at her brother. “You, marry her. Or I'll cut you."

He rolls his eyes. “It's too early for a knife fight Febe. You know the rules."

“I'm a f*****g Mobster! I don't follow rules!"

“f**k you Febe! Let me just...get my knife okay? Damn!”

“Hurry the f**k up bitchfish!"

“Don't call me that! Gimme a second, I gotta choose a good one." hhe grumbled heading out of the door.

Then it's just me with the homicidal manic with a knife.

“Have you met Dad yet?”

“Nope,” I say uncomfortably, pulling up the cover. Very...eccentric family he has here.

“You shouldn't. You have to be conditioned before the wedding.”

“Oh! I'm not marrying your brother!”

“Of course you are!" she says dully, opening the door. “Now I'm about to Target his liver in what's supposed to be a mock attack, but is actually a real attack in which I am venting my frustration and inferiority complex that is the root of many of my poor decisions. Dueces.”

She even says dueces.

• • •

This book is odd and I think I should unpublish it. What do you think?