CASSIUS

The echoes fill the room—her footsteps, the name she calls out. They all reverberate, continuously finding their way back to me, tunneling through my ears.

I want to look away. I really do. I could leave the club before it's too late.

I've been avoiding this for a while, and I still want to avoid it. But how can you just turn your back when the information is being handed to you on a silver platter?

Alright, that's bullshit. Quinn tried to hand this to me a while back, and I completely blew her off. Maybe I should have accepted the information from her when she was offering it up; I just wasn't ready. But, right this second, Sonny is in the same room as me and I feel as if this is how I was meant to find out.

Half the men in the bar are watching this woman, but my eyes are trained on her for a completely different reason. I'm hypnotized by every step she takes, waiting for her to land at her final destination. Waiting to find out who the final straw was in my dad's decision.

"Sonny!" she shouts once more, waving her hand in the air and bouncing on her toes.

I survey the crowd, but no one seems to notice her outside of the creeps ogling her legs. This means someone is deliberately ignoring her, or they just haven't heard her yet. The way she stays laser focused on the bar makes me think it's one of the guys sitting up here.

Her body shifts and she redirects, making her way to the far end of the bar instead. I let go of Quinn and begin to weave through the crowd, keeping the woman in my sights. It looks like she's trying to go behind the bar, which could potentially escalate into a security concern.

Sure enough, she cuts through the opening and races up to Gio as he's collecting empty drinks. Throwing her arms around his neck, she squeezes tight. He almost drops everything but manages to save the glasses from shattering against the ground.

"What's wrong with you, Sonny? You don't know how to pick up your phone, fratellino?" She exclaims in a thick Italian accent.

He pulls away, eyes darting to the side before he yanks her off down the bar, trying – and failing – to conceal their interaction. I can't manage to follow them this time, but I notice that their hushed conversation looks pretty damn heated.

Why did she call him Sonny?

Without thinking, I take a step back. And I keep taking steps back until I'm on the outskirts of the crowd. Quinn's fingers stroke down my palm before interlacing with mine. I didn't even notice her follow me over here. I glance to the side and examine her guilty face.

"It's him?" The words barely escape, so I clear my throat and try again. "Gio? It's him?"

She doesn't answer but the brief flinch that flashes across her features is enough confirmation for me. I tug her in close, so she knows I'm not upset with her. She tried to tell me, but I just didn't want to hear it. It's not her fault.

"I'm sorry, Cash-Money." She whispers.

"You don't need to apologize. You didn't do anything wrong, Quinn."

She nods against my chest, and I let her presence consume me for a while, swaying us back and forth to the music playing through the speakers. The crowd slowly disperses over time until all that's left are a few stragglers.

"Why don't you hang out with Wyatt for a while, alright? I need to do something."

"Cash, please don't –"

"Go." I say more firmly.

Instead of walking toward Wyatt, who is close to the bar, she goes in the complete opposite direction. To Silas.

She shimmies behind him, and he lets her. When he peers down at her, his hand drops to the top of her head, and he starts patting it like she's a dog. That's the closest thing to comfort he knows how to offer, but the fact that he even acknowledged her existence lets me know she's safe with him.

I stand at the opposite end of the bar to Gio while he works, obviously frustrated over something. The girl who bombarded him earlier is gone, but her effects on him seem to have a lasting impact because he doesn't hear me as I stride closer to him.

Once I'm a couple feet away, I speak.

"Sonny, huh?"

His shoulders tense, but he continues to wipe the bar down.

"It's uh...a family name, I guess. A nickname." He sounds defeated.

"So, you knew my pops?"

"I did. Good man."

"You didn't come to his funeral."

He finally puts his rag down and turns to face me, leaning against the ledge of the bar.

"I didn't know, Cass. I didn't know what he did until a few weeks after he died."

Sure, he may not have known that my dad took on his debt, but if they were as close as Max made them out to be, why the fuck wouldn't you show up?

"So, you paid for a funeral you didn't even go to. Seems odd." I shrug, trying to keep my demeanor as relaxed as possible.

But his humorless laugh kills any lighthearted intentions I had. I stand up taller and come face to face with him. He squares up as well, straightening his spine.

"If you hit me, Cass, make it count, because I won't let you get two in."

Gio isn't trained in fighting the way I am but, after watching him scrap by my side over the years, I have no doubt he has...other training under his belt. I'm controlled. He's chaos. He may be slimmer than me, but that doesn't mean shit when it comes to a brawl. He could still find a way to take me down, that I'm sure of.

I hesitate, uncurling my fist. It's not that I'm scared to get into an altercation with him. I just really don't want to. Instead, I drag him into an embrace. His arms are limp by his sides, but a tearful huff vibrates through his chest.

"I'm glad it was you." I whisper before setting him free.

His eyes are brimming with questions and confusion, and I don't have anything else to provide to help him make sense of my reaction.

Gio is part of me...I just didn't know he was part of me before I ever even met him at the club. Our ties go back further than I could have imagined.

"I saw your payment schedule. Your last payment was thousands. I know we're busy, but there's no way you make that much bartending."

"I...I do side work. Uh, help with the family business, ya know?" He spouts off nervously, his fingers twitching.

"Side work. For the family business? You're an Italian fucking stereotype, aren't you?" I laugh the words, and he smiles, but only a little. And only for a second.

I meant it as a joke, but his blanching face tells me that his reality is as dark as I originally thought it was.

I always knew you had to have a history to end up working here, and I always let my imagination run wild when thinking about what shit my coworkers are involved in, but it was none of my business. They don't ask me questions about my past, and I return the favor. Turns out, I was probably right about Gio.

It doesn't sit right with me that he's potentially involved in something that dangerous just so he can buy off a clear conscious. Counterproductive, really.

"Your debt is paid. You don't owe shit to anyone. You're officially out. I don't want to hear anything else about it. Ever." I bark out before retreating from behind the bar.

"Cass, wait! What the hell does that mean?!"

"You heard what I said, G."

Instead of sticking around for an argument I don't care to hear or participate in, I stroll back to the office and wait until Max is done counting Rita's register. Once it's all tucked in the petty cash bag and locked up in the safe, he stares up at me expectantly from his chair.

"Pay off the debt, Max. Use the cash and get it cleared. Don't tell Gio you're doing it and don't take any money from him again. I want this whole thing over with."

When I speak Gio's name, his eyes soften with realization. I think he wants this entire mess resolved just as much as I do. I know his offer about paying it off was a long time ago, but my dad was too prideful to accept it. I'm sure as hell not.

Besides, it'll be less of a blow to Shadow's funds since Gio has been chipping away at it for years.

"You sure, kid?"

"Yeah. I just want to move on."

He smiles and reaches into the filing cabinet, pulling out the manilla folder. One by one, he feeds each sheet of paper through the shredder.

Within ten minutes, Gio's entire payment history ceases to exist. Ten minutes to free him of the burden he's been shouldering all these years.