#3:Enigma

"Your little brother is an enigma, Harlow."

 Nole clutched the steering wheel as he glanced in the rearview mirror at his boss. Two enforcers, who had stayed around the Harlow premises during dinner, were now sitting on either side of the boss. A lit cigarette was between Roman's fingers. As the man inhaled, the red-hot ashes cast a deep glow across his features.

 "I apologize for my brother's lack of respect, boss."

 "He was a spitfire, wasn't he?" His boss' tone wasn't angry, more amused than anything. "I'd like to get to know him better, Harlow."

 "With all due respect, boss, I would do anything for you and support any and all of your business decisions." Nole hesitated as he frowned at the road. "But I would ask you to leave my brother alone. He's far too naïve for this lifestyle."

 There was a scoffing sound in the backseat. Nole didn't know if it was his boss or an enforcer who made the sound.

 Roman DeLuca had a decent relationship with both his parents and he had two siblings. But he was the oldest, and therefore, the chosen child to take on the business after his father left. Being the son of the Boss, Roman was watched constantly. He wasn't known to sleep around much and he treated his lovers decently, if not a bit coldly. And by lovers, the whole Family knew Roman would never provide an heir. He preferred men over women and he did little to hide that fact.

 Unsurprisingly, Roman preferred dark-haired and dark-eyed men. As for height wise, Roman always preferred them tall.

 Jude couldn't have been more dissimilar from Roman's preferred type.

 Jude becoming lovers with Roman was the least of Nole’s concern.

 He was afraid of the environment his brother would get into if Roman decided to make his interest in Jude public. Moreover, the head Boss wanted Roman to choose a significant other, and that deadline was fast approaching. Roman would need to choose a partner who would stand by his side and conduct business for the DeLuca Family.

 Jude wasn't made for this life. Roman's father would not approve.

 "I think you and your parents underestimate him." Mr. DeLuca's tone turned thoughtful. "When is his next track meet?"

 "Boss, please, he's naïve to the kind of business we—"

 "I'm not going to tell him about our Family or the business until he's ready. Really, Harlow, you don't give me, or him, enough credit. I simply want to attend a high school track meet." His tone grew cold and Nole shut his mouth.

 Roman's words didn't sit well with him.

 Unfortunately, he couldn't do much else to sway the underboss. "Next week, boss," he replied reluctantly.

 Next week was when his little brother's life would change indefinitely.

 "Tell me you're ready."

 The boy's melodramatic whine made me scoff. "I'm perfectly ready, Rhys. I don't need you nagging me. Again."

 Rhys. While I had many acquaintances, many friends—in the loosest sense of the word—Rhys was something else entirely. He was the only kid I hung out with after school and the only one I could share my thoughts with. Not that we had many heart-to-hearts. We preferred getting fat off pizza and watching cheesy movies for the sole purpose of making fun of them.

 He grinned, running a hand through his fake, beach-blond hair. "It's near the end of our season… before we graduate." He dodged my arm as I pulled off the heavy sweatshirt. "I know you're ready to leave me, Jude, but I can't let you go so easily."

 "You can always come to Boston with me," I suggested slyly before bending down to touch my toes and clutching the rim of my shoes. We were on the infield, having already stretched and completed our warmups. "There is no way in hell I'm staying here." I glanced at the audience. The stands were full. Many of the onlookers were against the fence, getting as close as possible to the finish line.

 "Harlow, you're up. 400."

 Releasing my shoes, I stood up just in time as Serrano, my sprinting coach, pulled me away from Rhys.

 The coach hovered as I reluctantly stripped down to my shorts and jersey. Among all the other members of the track team, Serrano favored me. Though, he had a sharp and nasty temper if I didn't meet his expectations. I didn't mind the pressure, simply because I loved running and wanted to push myself just as much as he wanted to push me.

 "Can you beat 48.1 this time, Harlow?"

 48.1 was my personal record and I intended to break it before graduation.

 "Do you even have to ask, Coach?" The man grunted behind me as I settled into the starting blocks. I was pleased to note that I was in the second lane. I always preferred starting further back than the rest of the runners, as it gave me extra drive to push myself faster.

 Adjusting my feet in the blocks, I positioned my fingers on the track. I don't even know what made me do it, but I glanced into the crowd. I knew my parents wouldn't be there, they never were. But I could see my brother standing near the fence. He came on occasion, but he certainly never brought company, especially company like that. I grimaced. I had hoped I would never see Roman DeLuca again. But there he was, dressed in finery and arrogance, and looking out of place at a track meet.

 A clipboard slapped my head, startling me.

 "Focus!"

 The starter lifted his gun and fired. I stumbled on my feet, barely keeping my balance.

 It would cost me a few marks…

 But the gun shot a second time, signaling a false start. My cheeks burned as I turned back toward Serrano. At least I hadn't been the one to false start. Though, tripping on my own feet wasn't much of a consolation. On the infield, I heard Rhys burst out in laughter at my ungraceful start, not helping the situation in the least.

 "Terrible, Harlow! That was pathetic. What the hell was that?" Coach Serrano scolded as I settled back down in the blocks.

 The distractions were pushed to the back of my mind as I pressed my fingers into the track once more. As soon as the gun fired, I pushed off from the blocks with far more grace than my first attempt. Pushing forward, I knew I had to run hard for the first 300 meters and then sprint the remaining 100.

 Already, I passed the runner in lane three, inching closer to the curve. The smell of freshly cut grass was strong and I inhaled deeply. This sense of freedom was something I would never get tired of. Running, pushing myself to the fullest…it was freedom. The wind tugged at my body and I was pulled along with it, rivaling it in speed.

 When I was running, the expectations placed on me were nonexistent. Everything faded and I dimly realized I had finally evened out with the remaining runners. We were inching closer to the last 100 and then I could really let loose. And as soon as my spikes slapped the 100 mark, I increased my speed and shot ahead.

 The thick white line pulled me forward and I picked up my pace. I didn't look back at the other runners, but I knew they were more than a few paces away from me.

 As soon as I crossed the line, my senses came rushing back to me. The other runners thundered past me as I slowed to a jog in attempt to slow my racing pulse.

 "Damn it, Harlow!" My coach prowled over with a stopwatch clutched tightly in his fist. "You broke it! 47.3!" I grinned, too high on adrenaline to do anything else. He patted me on the back with an enormous grin. "I'm proud of you, son."

 I glowed at the praise. "Thanks, Coach."

 Fuck, I was pathetic.

 Before I could make my way over to the infield with Rhys, I suddenly remembered the presence of Nole and DeLuca. Frankly, I really didn't want to go over there. I had nothing to say to either of them, but my manners outweighed my reluctance. Nole caught my eyes, waving me over and I found myself unable to pretend I hadn't seen him.

 Giving a sharp nod, I made a quick stop next to my bag to pull on my loose drawstring pants. If there was one thing I wanted to avoid, it was wearing these damn shorts longer than I had to.

 As I approached my brother, I immediately noticed his grim face.

 "Is everything alright?" I didn't even satisfy DeLuca with a glance. From the corner of my eye, I saw the man smirk. Unfortunately, my avoidance only seemed to amuse him. "You didn't tell me you'd be coming today." Usually, he'd send me a text message. And when he attended, it always implied we would go to dinner later and pig out on fries and burgers.

 But those late-night celebrations had been…distant…almost nonexistent for the past two years.

 "Sorry, I…" Nole faltered and he cleared his throat. "Everything is fine." He then changed the subject, something he did remarkably well. "You did great. From Coach Serrano's reaction, I'm guessing you broke your previous record?"

 "Yeah, 47.3."

 Nole glanced pointedly at his boss as if he was trying to tell me to be respectful. I feigned ignorance and only gave the man a fleeting glance. Like hell I'd lick his shoes like the rest of my family seemed to.

 "I don't see your parents here," DeLuca observed lightly.

 Unfortunately, I had to look at the man. He stood there confidently as he gazed down at me. He was tall, but then again, everyone was taller than I was. Though, he was a few inches shorter than my brother, which was the only positive thing about him. "No, they're not too big on the track scene."

 "I don't understand why," DeLuca continued easily, as if this conversation wasn't as awkward as it really was. My brother looked pained and his mouth was tightly shut. Apparently, he checked out of this conversation long ago. "You were great. Really."

 "Thanks," I gritted out. Before I could ask after Nole’s behavior, fingers suddenly reached out and grasped my chin, forcibly turning my gaze back to Roman DeLuca. The man's sharp eyes studied me intensely, no longer looking amused.

 "You don't take well to compliments, do you? Either that, or you're intentionally avoiding eye contact."

 I licked my lips, unable to look away from the onyx stare. He was intimidating, completely so, but I couldn't find it in myself to be daunted. Nevertheless, my knees weakened, but with his hand on my chin, he was literally holding me up.

 I pretended I was unaffected. "I apologize," I said sarcastically.

 "Jude," Nole warned.

 There was something going on and I didn't understand what it was. Was Nole and DeLuca an… item? Was that why they were acting so odd? Was it the drugs they were selling? Hell…was Nole the one taking drugs? The possibilities were endless and I didn't know what to think.

 DeLuca's fingers remained clutching my chin. His thumb stroked my skin before he let go. "I'd like to take you out for dinner," DeLuca began coolly. "After your meet, of course. Your brother told me that you two typically go out after your track meets."

 From across the field, Coach Serrano called me over, or more like screamed for me to hurry my ass over. I became distracted and flustered. "Yeah, sure, of course…" I agreed distractedly, pulling away from the two and the awkwardness they exuded. Dinner wouldn't be so bad. At least Nole would be there to put a buffer between DeLuca and myself. I couldn't argue against free food.

 As I turned, I missed DeLuca's smile and the crestfallen expression my brother wore.

 I had no idea what I had just signed up for.