Sleeping With the Enemy

Chapter One-Brandon

There comes a time in every man's life when he realizes he's not as young as he once was. That he can't drink like he once did, stay out as late as he used to, party like his reputation precedes. For me, that moment came when I woke up face down on the floor of my brother's bar, reeking of alcohol and bad decisions, twenty-five minutes before I was supposed to be at the office.

"Jesus Christ." I groaned, rolling over and running my fingers through my hair. I landed on an empty beer bottle, wincing as the neck of it poked into my back. My eyes fluttered open as I tried to get my bearings. Everything was blurry and disorienting, and my head felt like someone had taken an ice pick to my temple. I still had my dress shirt and pants on from work yesterday, but the shirt was completely unbuttoned. I cringed, noticing the lipstick smear kisses on my chest, vaguely recalling Alex passing a few hundreds to a stripper to loosen me up. There were several things over the last few years that I wasn't exactly proud of, and this certainly made that list.

For someone like me, who usually had my shit together, it was quite a humbling experience. I wasn't even sure how it had gotten so far out of control, but the mess I had woken up to made it hard to deny. My youngest brother Eli was home on break from school, and it wasn't often that all three of Avenetti brothers were in the same place at the same time, so I let he and Alex talk me in to a few drinks at the bar.

The bar had been oddly busy for a Wednesday night and we met up with a few buddies. Soon, just a few celebratory drinks turned into about fifteen and that's where things started to get hazy. All I could really remember were bits and pieces of last night, and none of it was good. My memory was a mess of beer bongs and strippers and shots and God only knows what else. It wasn't the first time I had woken up in a fog like this. Alex and I always partied hard and my father was always trying to convince us it was time to become responsible adults, and this morning, as I was staring down a day of important meetings, I was starting to realize why.

I was only twenty years old when I moved into the Capo position, working my way through college, and suddenly faced with an exorbitant amount of responsibility. I was in command of men three times my age, and I didn't have two stones to rub together in terms of experience. My father had of course given me a choice, he had given us all a choice, but in my heart, it had never been one. I lived for the Mafia. Everything about it sent adrenaline pumping through my veins. I loved the danger and the mystery and notoriety, and this life was as deeply ingrained in me as it had been in my father. Of course, there were aspects of it that I wasn't proud to be a part of, but all in all, I knew it was the life for me. The choice had cost me any resemblance of a normal life I could ever have, but there wasn't a single day that I questioned it. My only regret was that Sadie wasn't here with me. She should have been, and in another world, she would have been.

I groaned, realizing how quickly downhill this day was already traveling. Any day that started with thoughts of Sadie always did. Sweet Sadie. As per usual, my mind started to wonder where she was, and how she was doing. Technically I knew where she was, but I had quickly learned that keeping tabs on her only hurt me worse after she left. I could make sure she was safe, but I didn't need to know the ins and outs of her life in Denver. I could still see her the night she left, broken and jaded by the Mafia life and determined to make something different for her and her brother. That night was the only time in my life I had ever questioned my decision to work with my father. With a freshly broken heart, I turned to the one thing that I knew would never disappointment me. So far, it had worked out well, and I could only hope the same for her. I was only dragged away from my thoughts of Sadie by a harsh sound.

It took me a minute to realize the sharp ringing in my ears was, in fact, my cell phone, and not just from the ungodly hangover I currently had. I sat up quickly, trying to quiet the sound as fast as I could, but I immediately regretted the fast movement. All the blood rushed to my head and I felt like I had been hit with a wrecking ball. Alex was a few feet away from me, lying in the fetal position, clearly in as much pain as I was. Eli was still sitting on a bar stool, his head resting on his arms, snoring like a God damn bear. Even that was giving me a headache. Fuck, when had I gotten so old?