Mafia Daddy’s Smart Little by Mary Potter

CHAPTER TWO

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Holland

If anyone had told me two hours earlier that I would be running through the streets of Leevens, being chased by man who wanted to kill me, I would have laughed at them and called them crazy.

And yet, here I was, racing in dark alleys and trying to find a place to hide. I could hear his footsteps behind me. I could sense him gaining on me.

It wasn’t my fault that his girlfriend had found me attractive and decided to go out with me. It also wasn’t my fault that I didn’t know she was seeing him.

The man had just appeared in the club, brandishing a knife in my face and yelling that I should stay away from his woman. All the while, the girl pretended I forced her to come on the date.

“You’ve got to calm down, man,” I said to him. “Let’s be civil here.”

“Civil?” He shouted, spittle dropping into his shaggy beard. “You talk civilly?”

His English wasn’t that good, and he looked too barbaric to be living in a place like Leevens. I glared at the girl who was trembling from fright and trying to move away from me. I wondered how she had ended up with a huge beast like him.

“I’m saying we should be reasonable,” I tried to defend myself. “You don’t have to use that knife or whatever…”

“Shut up!” The barbaric man cried, pointing the tip of the knife to my throat.

I went silent immediately, fear creeping into my body as I realized that today could be my death day. How would my cousin react when he heard I was killed in a club? He would know that all his warnings had fallen on deaf ears. My family would mourn my death and that would be all. Maybe a few years of remembrance but all my achievements would be flushed down the drain.

I needed to get out of this. I was not going to die, not by the hands of a of this bearded beast.

“You take my girl!” The man continued yelling. “Because you rich! Because you Holland Kennedy!”

My eyes widened in surprise. I had no idea that he knew who I was. When I glanced around, I couldn’t tell who else knew my identity in the club. The men and women in there seemed to enjoy the show. I suspected they witnessed things like this virtually every day.

“Yes, I know you, Holland,” he said, inching closer, placing the point of the knife on my neck, making me sweat.. “I don’t give a fuck. You die here.”

I closed my eyes and silently prayed he would change his mind. But I doubted that would happen. I was going to die and it would all be my fault. I couldn’t get my eyes off some pretty Leevens girl.

“I sick and tired of rich people,” the man continued. “I teach you a lesson.”

Just then, a man barged into the club, raising a badge in the air.

“Leevens Police!” He cried. “Drop your weapon!”

As soon as the barbaric man dropped the knife, I sped out of the club, ignoring the officer’s commands to stop.

I didn’t want to stop running. If I did, I was a dead man. When I dared to look behind me, I saw the vicious man chasing me.

“Shit!” I exclaimed.

He must have escaped too, evading arrest to finish me off. I kept running. With every step I took, my strength failed me. I thought about my reputation again. It would be shitty to be killed by some jealous lover.

I must have passed through several alleys before I stumbled on a window with the lights on. Someone was inside! I could see a shadow moving around.

I knocked several times before the door finally opened. A red-haired girl was staring at me with a frightened look etched on her face.

Without waiting for her to speak, I barged inside, locking the door behind me.

By the time I was sure of my safety, the girl was holding a bottle, glaring at me with a billion questions probably racing through her mind.

“Jennifer!” A bald man walked into the room as soon as I told the girl I wasn’t there to harm her.

When he saw me, fear leaped into his eyes. The bald man pulled the girl behind him, clenching his fists to show he was ready to beat the shit out of me.

“Dad, it’s okay,” the girl--Jennifer--said. “He is not armed.”

The bald man considered me for a while before lowering his fists. “Who the fuck are you?”

“Holland Kennedy,” I introduced myself, wondering if I should extend a hand for a shake or not.

I decided to go with ‘not.’ The bald man appeared to have no idea who I was.

“Why are you in here?” he asked.

“He’s running from someone,” Jennifer answered. “I opened the door to let him in.”

“Thank you,” I told her.

I really believed I would be a dead man by now if it not for her.

She smiled at me. “You’re welcome.”

“Do you have a phone? I need to make a call. I left mine at the bar.”

“Do you want to call the cops or something?” That was her father.

I thought about this before replying. “No, I would like to call Ethan Coast.”