Page 94 of Chicago Sin

His nostrils flare. “That’s right. Real supervisor manages eight other sites. I handle everything here on my own.”

I shove my hands in my pockets to look less threatening. Not a look I’ve perfected, but somewhere in me, there used to be a guy who knew how to do casual. “So maybe I’ll just tag along with you... learn the ropes.”

What else am I gonna do? I spent four and a half years bored. Now that I’m out, I don’t want to lounge around and do nothing. Plus, I need something to keep my mind off the thought of Hannah almost getting shot. That and our night and morning of epic fucking.

Of course, Larry doesn’t like that. Not one fucking bit. I know because he kinda goes stiff and freezes for a couple seconds before he lets out a choked, “Yeah, okay.”

He has to say okay. No one’s gonna fuck with me here. The Pachino family runs the union.

I follow him around and pay attention, introducing myself to the guys when Larry doesn’t bother. It’s not that I suddenly feel friendly. Fuck no. But I force myself to at least go through the motions.

“He’s the union-provided supervisor,” Larry inserts meaningfully each time, letting them all know exactly what that means.

I’m a mobster there to milk their employer for a paycheck while doing nothing.

Well, they might be surprised. I might end up doing more than texting my buddies all day. Or I might not. Who the fuck knows? All I know is I’m hungry to work. I had to hold myself back from inserting myself into Hannah’s business. Telling her all the ideas I had for it.

That would be wrong. Hannah doesn’t need me to bust in and tell her how to do anything. She’s gotta figure that shit out on her own, or else she’ll never take full ownership over there. But damn, I want to help.

A big black guy in his fifties comes over to talk to Larry. When I introduce myself, I find out his name is Harold, and he’s an electrician.

I can tell he doesn’t want to say what he is about to. “Listen, I’ve been a little short of breath lately, and my wife got me an appointment this afternoon with one of her doctors at the hospital. I know it’s short notice, and we’re on a deadline, but?—”

“No way, Harold. Absolutely not. You know we have to get the wiring up today or the inspection won’t pass.”

I don’t know if I’m dicking with Larry or just want to throw my weight around, but I interject. Afterall, I’m technically his boss, right? “Let him finish,” I say. “Maybe he has a plan to make sure it all gets done.” I turn my gaze on Harold. “Do you?”

“Yeah,” he says. I can hear the piss-off in his voice. “I was going to say that I should be finished by lunch time, and if anything comes up in the inspection, Chad can handle it.”

“Chad can’t handle something this important. No way,” Larry splutters. It’s possible he’s just pissed that I inserted myself. Or maybe he’s always a dick. Larry’s in his late thirties. Good looking. Probably has a pretty wife and kid at home.

I already want to bust his teeth in, and I’m sure he feels the same way about me for sticking my nose in the business.

“Short of breath sounds serious,” I say. “You’d better keep that appointment.”

Eat my shit, Larry.

Larry’s face turns deep red.

“If something comes up during the inspection that Chad can’t handle, can we call your cell?” I pull out my phone.

Harold appears relieved. “Of course.” He gives me his number while Larry shifts from foot to foot, looking like he’s getting anally fisted.

Probably not my brightest move pissing off the foreman on my first day. Then again, these fuckers can’t touch me. Not that I need the organization’s back in this situation, but the Pachino’s have instilled enough fear in Local 352 over the past 30 years that no one in his right mind would even say boo to me.

And I’m already a shred closer to enjoying myself. I guess the alpha male in me needed to piss on someone. Plus, I know I’m right. Why the fuck would a foreman deny a guy short of breath from a semi-emergency doctor’s visit? That’s fucked up.

“Show me who Chad is,” I instruct Harold and follow him further into the building.

I’m gonna make this job my bitch. Because right now, it’s the only thing I have.

Unless I count Hannah. I mean, I definitely count Hannah, but I can’t really consider her mine. Yeah, I claimed her right from the fucking start. And she definitely went with it.

But I have jack shit to offer her. I can’t be her boyfriend. Not when there’s a gang shooting up my apartment, a murder attempt on my cousin, and I’m an emotional carcass.

She deserves better than that.

Which means… fuck. I probably should leave her the hell alone. Make a clean break before she gets hurt.