The Girl At His Door [Parts I & II]

Chapter-30

Alright guys. This is the last chapter :)

Don't kill me.

MERCURYS POV.
A FEW DAYS LATER.

  Getting back from Italy was definitely interesting.

  Penelope and Gio refused to let Angelo and I go back to the apartment.

  Well, it was mostly Penny.

I don't think Gio actually cared.

But he was scared of his wife, so he took her side. 

     Since we got back, she made us stay at their new house.

  It looked nothing like it did the last time I saw it.

  They must have had one hell of a crew.

I didn't mind it at all. It felt nice to be around people I actually enjoyed after so long.

Father dearest, however, loathed the situation.

Was it funny? Yes.

But something was different about him today.

"Get dressed!" He yelled as he walked past my room.

Slowly, I got up and stood in the door way.

"Where am I going exactly?" I asked, eyeing him cautiously.

"Out."

"Out where?" I pushed.

He shrugged. "I figured we go to the nearest cemetery. Dig up some people. See what we find."

I tried my hardest not to laugh.

"But grave robbing is best in the spring. Amateur."

He shook his head. "You're right. Rookie move. Get dressed." He ordered again before disappearing.

   I knew I really had no other choice.

My stomach was almost completely healed and I was off antibiotics.

   I knew it would leave scars.

But I guess I have to get used it.

  I threw on some jeans and a sweater.

New York in the fall had a uniform, and this was it.

  It's damn near freezing out.

"Where are you guys running off to?" Gino asked as I walked downstairs.

He said he didn't want to miss out on anything fun, so he's been here for as long as we have.

  Not that I was complaining.

"Apparently going to go rob graves." I shrugged.

   "Bring me back something!"

I was about to respond when there was a loud honk outside.

   "Apparently I have to go now. See ya!" I yelled as I walked outside.

Right out front was Angelo in his car, clearly wanting me to hurry the hell up.

"Are you going to tell me what the hell this is about?" I asked as he pulled out. "Because I'm not wearing grave robbing shoes. These are flats, and that's a boot kind of job."

"I mean, I guess we could still do that."

"I'll take that as a no then."

"You'll see when we get there."