Fearing the consequences should I stay longer, I spent the night with Ledger and went home in the morning. It's a bit strange to put on dirty clothes, and I was too shy to shower at Ledger's place, so I'm feeling particularly skittish around others. Thankfully I make it back to my office without incident, finding the doors to be repaired and my secretary to be wrought with anxiety.
"Oh! Vinny!" She cries out. "I thought you were dead!"
I laugh her off awkwardly. "I'm alright. Sorry, I'm not in great shape right now. Do you know what happened that night?"
"That prick burst down the doors with magick! Before I knew it, there was that other guy laying on the floor bleeding all over from the face and that bastard shark was carrying you off. I asked Mr. Blackwater what to do and he said just ignore but… how can I ignore that?!" She cries out, tears running down her cheeks.
I'll admit I'm flattered to have someone cry over me like this. Or, maybe she was more scared for herself? Either way, I don't refuse when she moves to hug me. I pat her back gently, telling her everything will be alright.
"And what happened to Alexio?" I ask.
"The beluga boy? He got up and went home on his own… I'm so glad you're okay!"
With my office confirmed to be intact, and my belongings being handed back off to me, I'm free to sink into the hellscape that will be my catch-up work. I catch up with the emergency-tier communications, then the slightly less important, then begin with rescheduling meetings I had missed. It takes a few hours to get everything back on track enough to allow myself breakfast and a shower.
In the shower I take the time to consider what to do about Papa. Perhaps it's fine to kick the can down the road on this one. Neither Ledger nor Papa seem to have immediate moves in mind, and that gives me time to strategize. For now I'll simply let Papa know things are going well, that Ledger is suspiciously keen to have me and I'll report anything that might be suspicious.
I sink to the floor of the shower, clogging the drain with a wash cloth and allowing the tub to fill with steaming hot water. I'm not certain where the drain guard went, and I'd never be able to guess where to get a new one. Every time I think I'm going to remember to look it up online, I end up forgetting and repeating this cycle.
I miss Ledger. It hasn't even been 24 hours and I miss him. Is this what they call the honeymoon phase? Is this what being in love is like? Do I really love him? I lay back in the tub when enough water fills, squishing my tail against the bottom of the tub beneath me.
"I want him to love me."
"I want him kept in check," Papa drops his cigar into a tray.
I suppose my text messages weren't satisfactory, as Papa almost immediately demanded a dinner meeting with me. We're again at the Pearl Lounge, with the two girls Papa is favoring currently, as well as one of his longtime private investors.
I'm a margarita deep into this conversation, my confidence having wavered heavily when dragged out in person. Papa immediately recognizes this, because of course he does, and all I can do is be honest within reason.
"White believes me to be under his thumb, he's drunk on power when we're together," I lower my head and fiddle with the glass. "From what I understand, he thinks he's getting one over on you by potentially taking me as a wife."
I'm careful with my wording. For both Ledger's sake and my own.
"I'm learning more day by day about him, though I'm still uncertain as to why he hates you so much," I peek up, finishing my second glass. It's only water from here on out, lest I sabotage things.
Papa slams the table, causing the younger of the two girls to flinch. I can immediately tell when someone's on the chopping block, and it's evident this formerly peppy girl has lost Papa's interest. There's no opportunity to be concerned for her, I can only focus on myself and Ledger.
"That fuckin' no good piece of shit shark," Papa roars. "Is he complainin' about me to you? Is he?"
"No, not exactly," I shake my head. "I don't believe he trusts me enough for that. Rather, he becomes on edge at the mention of you."
To my surprise, the business partner interjects. He's an average height man with heavy muscle, a chiseled face. Prison tattoos dot his body, even his face. Depending on the severity of your crimes, it's not uncommon to have your tail chopped off as punishment. This man either lost his appendage during his stay, or during some other frightening period of his life.
"Awh boy, Ledga actin' up a pout?" The man laughs.
I can't identify his accent for the life of me. It's more harsh than Papa's traditional Mariana slums style of speech, but more jovial at the same time. I wonder if Marianan is his native language? I try not to know too much about those Papa hangs around with. Not a single good thing could come of it.
"You know him as well?" I look over at the rippled man. His red hair and yellow eyes stand out amongst this table of black haired orcas.
"Yeah, when he was 'bout yea high," he brings his hand up to be roughly level with the table. "Bruiser said he was gonna be real hot shit. Guess he ended up hot headed." The man laughs just slightly too loud about his own terrible joke.
"He does have quite the temper," I nod in agreement. "Papa, I wasn't aware you knew him from such a young age," I attempt to fish for information.
Papa immediately catches onto this and shuts me down. "Yeah, well. Look at how the little shit grew up. That's the kinda thing you wanna repress," he takes a swig of his beer and brushes me off. "If you end up gettin' pregnant, don't taint our bloodline with gillbreathers."
I stare in surprise at his… forwardness. The young orca beside him seems caught off guard by this as well.
"Rest assured, Papa," I nod.
The species of a child was determined by a variety of factors, and I'm no geneticist. In mixed species relationships, it's most common for the product of two lovers to take on the traits of the father– especially so if the father is an apex species. Hybrids exist, though exceedingly rare. My heart sinks in my chest as I imagine ever having to give up my own child, even if unborn. I don't believe I'd be mentally equipped for the aftermath. A chill runs up my spine.
"Let's get outta here. Vin, come ride with me I gotta do somethin'," Papa grunts as he slides from the booth. The entire table gets up to accommodate him, ready to march at his command.
I hate the idea of leaving my car parked overnight somewhere potentially for the second time this month, but I'm in no position to refuse. I bid goodnight to Papa's friend, Paul? I think his name is Paul. It's definitely a fake name, but whatever.
When we get to the valet, I take over driving Papa's classic MANTA, one of his many prized assets. It's a difficult car to drive, being both low to the ground as well as heavy on the shift and clutch. I feel like I'm going to spin out on every corner in this god forsaken deathtrap. However, the back is full of fun novelties that keep his women impressed.
I try to push out of my mind the sound of their giggling and flirting as Papa gives me directions to Coral City, which contrary to its name is actually a pit in the middle of nowhere. It's not even a municipality, it's straight up an abandoned quarry.
I have a sinking feeling as to what's coming next as I park in a private, closed off area. It's pitch black outside, only the lights of bioluminescent entities floating above the dome and the headlights of the car are visible out here.
"Coraline, outta the car. Nixie, you stay 'ere," I hear him say as the back door swings open.
The young orca, perhaps even younger than me, wears an expression of terror that is undeserved. Her lovely black dress catches the faint green glow of the sky above, her figure silhouetted by the headlights. My eyes are drawn, however, to Papa's looming figure. His posture is poor, his height comparable to the boulders around us. I don't believe I've ever met anyone taller than him, and in moments like these, as his eyes seem to glow in the night, I hope I never do.
"Vin, help Papa with somethin'."