I’m practically smiling the whole way back to my shop.

I haven’t been on a date like that in a long time. I don’t normally have to take women out to get them undressed, but in this case I actually wanted to spend time with her. For once I met a girl that I actually want to be around, not just because I want to fuck her, but because I find her interesting.

Also, because I want to get to know my baby, and to be a part of its life… but one thing at a time. She wants to put the baby up for adoption, and I can’t blame her. But I’ll convince her otherwise. Hell, maybe I’ll adopt the baby myself and raise him or her right. I don’t know how it works, but I’ll figure it out somehow.

I feel happy and idealistic as I pull my bike into my shop’s lot. I park off to the side, and I don’t notice the big black SUV pull in behind me until I’m off the bike and walking toward the doors.

The SUV pulls in and parks. Two guys step out, both of them big dudes wearing dark clothes, and I recognize them both. My pulse immediately jumps into my throat as they walk toward me, and I know what this is about.

“How’s the mayor’s son doing today?” the older of the two guys calls out. His name is Vito, and he’s muscle for the Costa crime family, the kind of guy that’s been breaking skulls since before he could walk. He’s a hulking man, getting heavy in his middle age, but no less dangerous.

The guy behind him is named Jimmy. He’s another mafia muscle man, but younger than Vito, and probably more dangerous. Vito’s been around and he knows the score, but Jimmy’s a wildcard. I’ve heard stories of him breaking knees just because he felt like it, and of him going too far and killing guys just by accident.

I watch them walk toward me, ice in my veins. “What do you two want?” I ask.

“Is that how you greet emissaries of the old man?” he asks.

I flinch. The “old man” is Raymond Costa, and the implication is that these two were sent directly by him. That’s worse than if some captain decided to take it upon himself to make some trouble for me. At least Marko could help with that. But if I’m on Raymond’s radar, I might be fucked.

“I don’t need this,” I say to them. “I’m not involved in Buddy’s shit.”

Jimmy grins at me. “You’re his fucking son, you idiot. Of course you’re involved.”

Vito holds up a hand. “Sorry for my friend there, he’s a little hotheaded, you know how that is.” He gives me a tight smile. “Please, let’s go inside and discuss this.”

I stand there and weigh my options. I could turn them down, but that would probably just make it harder on me. If they want to come inside, they’re going to come inside. I could fight back, and maybe even win against these two, but then I’d definitely be inviting the ire of Raymond and the whole fucking crime family.

I know I don’t have much of a choice, so I nod tightly and lead the way. I hear Jimmy snicker behind me and I have the sudden, irrational urge to turn around and tell him to fuck off, but I hold my tongue.

This isn’t the first time I’ve dealt with the mob. My father’s been involved with them for years, and my father’s not exactly a reliable guy. On top of that, I have a lot of friends in the mafia, or at least related to the mafia. When you’re in politics, or at least your dad is, then you can’t help but meet these people. Marko’s one of them, but there are others, although none as good a friend as Marko.

Unfortunate, I only know these two guys by reputation. I’ve been lucky enough not to meet them until now.

We head in through the front, past the front desk, and go back into the shop. If something happens, I don’t want it to happen up front, just in case someone wanders in by mistake.

Vito looks around, nodding to himself. “Nice place you got here,” he says. “I heard you were selling bikes to made guys, you know, but I didn’t expect this.” He walks up to the dragon bike and nods at it, grinning.

“It looks stupid,” Jimmy says.

Vito glares at him and sighs. “Jimmy, you got no fucking manners.”

Jimmy shrugs and wanders off, touching my tools, completely ignoring us.

Vito turns back to me, a big smile on his face. He’s trying to look friendly, which puts me off even more.

“I bet you know why we’re here, yeah?” Vito says to me. “Bad situation your old man’s in. Real bad situation.”

“I’m not involved,” I say again. “I told you outside. Me and my father don’t see eye to eye.”

He sighs. “See, that’s the thing. Even if you guys don’t get along, you’se are still related, yeah? You’re still responsible.”

“Nobody’s responsible for the mayor.”

Vito shakes his head. “Nope, not true.” He turns back to the dragon bike. “How much one of these cost?”

“Why, you interested?”

“Yeah, sure, I love fuckin’ dragons.” He grins at me.

“Depends on the design, the specs, a lot of shit.”

“Ballpark it.”

“Twenty grand,” I say.

He whistles. “God damn.”

I shrug. “I do good work.”

“Clearly.” He crosses his arms. “I hear you been selling a lot of these. At twenty grand a pop, I bet you’re doing pretty good for yourself.”

I don’t like where this is going. “I can’t cover his debts,” I say. “I’m profitable, but I’m nowhere near that profitable.”

“Ah, see, that’s not what I hear.” He walks over to my tool bench and starts picking things up at random. “Look at all this shit. You got so many tools here, I bet it’s worth a fortune, right, Jimmy?”

“Right, Vito.”

I nearly jump. Jimmy’s voice comes from right behind me. I turn around to spot Jimmy holding a wrench and grinning at me. He suddenly swings it right into a pan full of nuts and bolts, sending it all flying onto the floor.

“See, you got money in here,” Vito says. “And we want money.”

He throws a bunch of tools off the bench. Jimmy grins and starts smashing his wrench into an open toolbox, sending screwdrivers and hammers and more flying to the ground.

Vito walks over to another bike I have in for repairs. He kicks it over, picks up a hammer, and starts smashing it.

Jimmy joins in, and I can’t do anything but watch the men smash up my workshop. What was once a relatively neat and orderly space is quickly turned into a fucking disaster zone. They break what can be broken, and they throw around what can’t. They smash up the bikes I have in for repair, finally finishing with the dragon bike. Jimmy takes great pleasure in this, kicking it over with a huge smile on his face, laughing as he slams his wrench into it over and over.

Finally, the place is a fucking wreck. Broken glass, scattered metal, tools everywhere, total fucking chaos. It looks like a hurricane tore through here, and nothing made it through unscathed.

Vito puts a hand on Jimmy’s shoulder to stop him. Both men are out of breath but smiling those creepy fucking smiles as Vito walks over toward me. He hands the hammer over and I take it from him.

“Raymond wants money,” he says. “Find some. Appease the old man. Don’t make us come back and do this shit again. It’s a good shop, you got a good thing going for you. It’s nothing personal.”

I grunt at that. I want to smash the claw of the hammer into his skull, but I hold back for the same reason that I didn’t stop them from smashing my shop. Fucking with them will only make things worse.

“Good luck,” Jimmy says, smiling maliciously as the two men leave back through the front.

I’m left there alone in the disaster of my shop. Clients’ bikes are wrecked and smashed, including that fucking dragon design. All of this is going to cost me a lot of money to fix, let alone my fucking time. I’m out of commission for weeks cleaning all this up and fixing it.

If those fuckers wanted money, they just made it a lot harder for me to get any.

I sit there and stare at the wreckage of my shop. I built this place with my bare hands and worked damn hard at it. Everything in this place exists because of my hard work, and now it’s getting smashed to shit because of my father’s stupid fucking mistakes. I’ve spent my whole goddamn life trying to steer clear of him, and still look at where it gets me.

I get up, walk over to the refrigerator, and grab a beer. Fortunately, it’s still working, although dented where Vito kicked it. I crack open my drink and wander back out front, not able to look at the mess any longer.

As I head up front, a strange thing happens. I lean up against the counter and look out the window, and I think about Alexa. I think about the baby growing inside of her, and about the way she laughs, the way she feels when I touch her, everything about her. Despite that mess back there, despite how fucked up I know fathers can be, I suddenly decide that I want to do better. I know I can do better, if given the chance.

No, not given. I have to take my chance if I’m going to get one at all. Alexa’s mine, and so is that baby. I’m going to give them a better life than my fucking father ever did for me, no matter what happens.

I drink my beer and resolve myself to the future, no matter how fucked it may seem.