Mafia Runner

Chapter Ten

10.

I collapsed to the floor with fatigue and stared at the clock.

I was famished. It was six o'clock on Friday afternoon. Lucian was two hours late. My parents had left early that morning, hesitant to leave me alone. But I convinced them that I was eighteen and able to take care of myself. After they had left, I had been nervous about Lucian spending the weekend and had preoccupied myself with pacing and cleaning unnecessarily. Still, when I was trying to distract myself, one thing kept repeating itself over and over despite my attempts to ignore it.

We would be alone. Without any interruptions.

But apparently, someone was too important to show up at the agreed upon time. I didn't have my phone, that was true, but he knew the house number and the phone had remained silent for two hours.

"Fuck."

Standing, I dragged myself to the kitchen and rummaged around in the pantry before grabbing the bag of potato chips. I couldn't believe him. After we had just talked about this at my graduation party, no less. Ten minutes late was pushing it, but two hours? But what if he was wounded? Or worse, killed?

Those scenarios just made me even more anxious.

Opening the bag of salty and equally greasy chips, I chomped on them, glancing once again at the clock. Just as I caught sight of the Oreos, and wondered if we had enough peanut butter, the doorbell rang.

Taking the bag of chips with me, I slowly walked to the door, spying Lucian standing on the doorstep. A messenger bag was slung across his shoulder, and in one arm, he held a paper bag. He cocked his head to the side when he saw me through the window, his face serious and almost guilty. No smirk was present. That was a plus, but hardly meaningful.

I stood on the other side as I chewed another mouthful of chips, not bothering to open the door. After waiting a good minute, I reached toward the door, opening it, but keeping the screen door shut. I crinkled my bag, looking at the chips nonchalantly before glancing indifferently up at him.

"Are you experiencing near-death symptoms?" I asked coldly.

He sighed. "No Afton, I—"

"Were you shot?"

Lucian's lips thinned. "I wasn't, but—"

"Then you can stand on my doorstep for two fucking hours before I consider letting you in." I smiled brightly and slammed the door on his face.

God, that felt good. I dug into my bag of chips, turning my back on him and entering the kitchen. Yeah, I knew I just snubbed the mafia underboss and there may be consequences, especially if he had men around the house, witnessing the scene. But Lucian wasn't going to treat me like some desperate housewife and I refused to accept his lame excuses.

The doorbell rang again, and this time, he held his finger over the button. I should leave him out there, but I knew I had to face him eventually and I really didn't want to explain why someone shot our door handle to pieces.

Sliding along the floor in my socks, I yanked the door open and unlocked the screen door. I didn't bother opening it for him, he could get it himself. As I turned to the kitchen, I heard Lucian enter the house.

"I got held back over a trade, Afton." Lucian's voice followed me through the house and into the kitchen. "A senseless idiot thought he could outwit us and—"

I cast him a cool glance and turned my shoulder on him.

"You're angry," Lucian began softly, "I understand completely."