Maid for the Mafia by Jaylee

Regular People

FXTINY*k

*Do you have any idea how many people ignore what you say on a day to day basis?*

They play their little roles, nodding and taking notes so they can run a word or two back your way in hopes of

appearing attentive. Thinking that for all intents and purposes, they have their bases covered and you won't

catch on to that fact. They wouldn't’ even know what to do if you found out that while you were here* and

present - probably even answering an *imposed* question - *they* were ten minutes down the road, sailing

around that curve toward whatever self indulgence they were currently obsessing over. Because ninety percent

of what all *'regular* people talk about is either about themselves or about what they are *wanting*.

And I'm not talking about during emotional exchanges - although I'd bet ten years of my Friday Night Tap money

that *that* number is pretty high too, *and* if you don't know what tap money is, then you shouldn't be listening

to the thoughts of an Eastside, Fourth Street Captain - I'm talking about everyday exchanges. Conversations you

have with friends, or with acquaintances - or with people you've just met. Give these people a set of instructions

and a warning and watch them fucking bumble around in the dark too afraid to admit they should have paid

attention to your words.

Wanting never really did much to get you anything. Which is why while those *regular* people continue to

*want* - there are a few of us that decide talking is cheap and getting is better.

So that's what I'm doing now. *Getting.*

A few days ago Mickey received a phone call from one of Santos' men. The dude was angry and feeling slighted,

so he made the mistake of calling the enemy and blowing said enemy's mind. What he had to say had Mickey

smiling from ear to ear with excitement, but not me. Why? Because the guy was acting on impulse and despite

the suprfuckery that he had already committed by calling his boss' enemy - | knew he would not be showing

up. And | was right...he didn't. What the dude probably *did not* anticipate was Mickey sending *me* out to

fetch the sorry little fuck. An understandable misconception of course, after all, the secret has already been

shared. Why make matters worse by fulfilling your promise and bearing the proof of your claims? He must have

been thinking the information alone would be enough, but he thought wrong. The guy had no idea just how

motivated Mickey would be to collect on his original promise. And for that matter | have to admit...I'm feeling

pretty motivated myself.

| want to please her. Romany. | want her to look atthe way she did in the restaurant when I offered to kill

Romano for her like he was nothing more than a cockroach scurrying through the kitchen. | haven't been able to

think straight since | had her mouth on my dick and her sweet pussy wrapped around my shaft. | even went to

the strip club intent on fucking her from my mind, but all that | got from that was an even *stronger* desire to

see her again.

I'm becoming obsessed and if Mickey knew *how* obsessed he'd probably try to takeout. He doesn't like that

she's attracted tobecause I'm the type of guy she would more than likely end up with. | don't have any blood

ties to this business and | get to move about without the mafia's scope shoved up my ass. | don't get watched

unless there's a war going on and when | do something final | never have to answer for it. I'm free to marry and

date whomever | please and | think that's the part that upsets him the most. That | could ask her one day and

not have to get her approved for purchase *drives him up the fucking wall.* He wants her *that* badly. Even

more so now that he's had himself a taste. He'd marry her in a heartbeat if he was able, but he can't and he

*knows he can't, so he's pissed. Even now he's out on a date with the 'not so late' Paul Romano's daughter, their

courtship having been decided long ago. Even though Paul's dead, the contract between the Romanos and

Scavos must continue because nobody *knows* he's dead. Well...nobody that didn't kill him that is.

Her nis Ana Romano and she's *not* a bad looking girl. Her eyes and ears are all in the right place, she's got

a great rack, a little chubby in the middle like her Pa, but not to the point of revulsion, and she appears to have a

good head on her shoulders. She doesn't even *look* like the guy, so *that's* a definite plus. Mickey could have

done way worse for sure. But if | was asked to describe what his face looked like when he greeted her at the

restaurant, I'd have only one word. *'Murderous'.* He honestly looked like he was thinking about killing her and

ending the contract *that* way.

To be honest, | was happy to see that she was as pretty as she was, because | *thought* that meant she stood a

shot with him. But the moment | turned around to gage his reaction, | knew that poor girl is about to have the

*worst* lunch she has ever had to endure.

I've done my best to hide my new obsession from Mickey and | *believe* I've hidden it well, but there's always

that one person you can never hide anything from. That one person that still knows that it exists. Me.

1 know.

What | don't know is how much worse it can get.

And | also know thanks to the dude that I'm about to abduct...

...that Ruby is in fact alive.

I've been instructed to lift this rat from the hole and deliver him to Mickey, but | know he's busy with his lunch

date so I've decided to becone of those *regular* people just for the day and do what *I* want to do,

instead.

| sit across the street from 'Flanningan's' in a slate gray, late model CTS coupe. Every one of its windows are so

dark a black they shine almost purple and have their very own temperature control system. *Among other

things.* The thing gets its regular use during the hottest months of summer, but even so, touching one of these

tar glazed panes without gloves on in July, tends to leave more than a lasting impression on the flesh.

I'm invisible to Miguel Arroyo as he attempts to stumble past my vehicle, drunk as a skunk and looking like

yesterday's corner whore. So | know he's well and truly shocked when | throw the door open hard enough to

break his nose and he goes tumbling backward onto the pavement.

He's still conscious when | step out and smile down at him which is good, so | smile at him and say, "Hey there

Miguel. Tto take a ride."