Chapter 66: Love is Crazy

< Shirley >
"I beg of you, please stop crying." Dylan clasped his palms and pleaded, seeing the waterworks on my cheeks.
After hearing everything from him, I wanted to weep for hours. I always wondered whether I was one of those people in the world who always smiled without damn care about the ones crying at that moment. Apparently, I was.
I couldn't imagine living a life like Dylan's. I would have probably suffocated from the guilt and burden.
After his mom died, some stupid mafia dude tried to kill him and his sister. But his dad found it more amusing to confine those little lives in a dark room to torture them for eight months without showing any shred of mercy to them. The pain he must have gone through... just thinking about it made my heart ache.
If that wasn't enough, after Sienna helped them escape from that hellish torment, his dad killed his sister in front of his eyes. He had to stay on a run for seven years without receiving any formal education. Sienna home-schooled him; she was his mentor for everything. Meanwhile, Xavier and Riley worked day and night to protect him.
His dad was a complete asshole for trading his children for money and power. Did he feel no remorse for putting his son through all of this?
He even murdered every maternal relative of Dylan, except Sienna who was studying abroad back then. Dylan's cousin, someone named Rachel, had helped him which resulted in her death too, even his best friend. It pained me to wonder how many deaths he had to witness throughout his life.
"Shirley, it's okay. It doesn't affect me anymore." Dylan held my hand in his and gazed into my blue orbs.
"I'm gonna murder that piece of shit with a toothpick, I swear!" I growled and harshly wiped the salty liquid from my cheek.
"Seriously? A toothpick? I can lend you all my weapons if you're willing to kill that scoundrel for me." Dylan scowled, and I pouted.
"Yikes. I thought of Uncle Xander as a father-like figure." I couldn't believe how big of a fool I was.
My father's best friend, Dylan's bastard of a father, Xander Stratford was a motherfucking asshole who needed to put him behind bars.
"Wh—what are you planning to do against him?" I hiccupped, and Dylan calmly insisted me to drink my vanilla latte.
"I vowed not to kill him, rather torment him enough to make him lose his will to live. For that, I need solid proof. After all, he is an influential politician." I nodded, understanding his point. "With that being said, at first, I need to kill the person who corrupted my once-good-dad." Dylan bit his lips, looking at his cappuccino with a far-away gaze.
We talked for a while until we finished our drinks.
It was past eleven. Time really did fly by when I was with my loved person. After talking about his past, we casually conversed with each other, getting to know each other better, making me fall in love with him more if that was even possible.
All in all, it was a time well spent.
Then we walked out of the café. I was about to head to the parking lot, but Dylan stopped me by grabbing my wrist and reminded me that we didn't bring our car here. I slapped my forehead for my silliness and he shook his head.
I held his hand and started walking towards my apartment since it wasn't that far from the café.
We made small talks, enjoying each other's company along with the chilling night air. The sound of our laughs echoing throughout the silent, lone lane was something I would give up anything to get.
When we were near my apartment building, we were just enjoying the momentary peaceful silence between us. Dylan mentioned with a charming smile, "The stars are mesmerizing, aren't they?"
I nodded.
But you know your smile is more dazzling than the stars.
"What?"
"What, what?" I furrowed my eyebrows.
"A—are you trying to flirt?"
"Wha—"
"But geez, that was one heck of a cheesy thing to say. I know I'm good-looking and all." My cheeks heated up, realizing that I had said that out loud. "But you know, no matter how charming you find me, I think you're more alluring, especially your enticing eyes which could capture my attention any moment."
I blushed furiously. What was wrong with him? He really was bipolar. Just a few hours ago, he told me fuck off and now he was acting all sweet and lovey-dovey. If he continued acting like that, I would start to assume he was reciprocating my feelings.
"Wow, even your blush is pretty." It made me flush even more. I fixed my gaze at my feet, playing with the hem of my cardigan. "Though I have to agree, you look even more radiant under the moonlight."
Did anyone add cocaine to his coffee? I wondered.
"Thank you, I guess?" At that moment, I just wanted to hide from his view at any cost.
"We are here," he announced.
I sighed and hurried to the gate, making Dylan chuckle. I saw Tim and Jeremiah waiting for him from the corner of my eyes. "Goodnight," I said and turned on my heel.
His voice was meek and timid, it wavered in the end making the last few words unclear. "Goodnight. Holy shit, what is wrong with me? I need medical attention. She—" He started to curse but I was out of earshot by then.
Finally, I was getting closer to him, and it really feels like there is a chance. A ray of hope… that he might love me back.
And he was crazy to think that my feelings or attitude towards him would change to pity if I got to know his backstory, rather I have more respect and understanding of him. Now I know that it was the circumstances that made him a murderer. Or maybe I was being blinded by my love for me. Whatever it was, this feeling was crazy.
Love was crazy.
———
"Okay, let me get this straight." I tried to focus and analyzed the data I just received.
"You were jealous of Dylan?" I figured out, making my brother spit out his espresso. I rubbed circles on his back as he started to choke.
"No, you idiot," Adrian exclaimed. Currently, we were at Starbucks, having drinks while talking about his reasons for joining the Mafia. "I wasn't jealous of him. It's just that... um, how shall I put it? It's like my girlfriend used to spend more time with her best friend than me, which somehow made me upset. It wasn't jealousy, okay?"
"That's what I call jealousy," I deadpanned, and Adrian scowled at me. "So, Dylan hated you for being Avalin's boyfriend?"
"No, he hated me from the first time our eyes met on the freshman's day at university. I don't even know why, he still won't tell me. It was the same exact reason he didn't want to see your face before meeting you." It was doubtful and very unlike Dylan.
Yes, he hated a bunch of people, but not without a reason. If I asked him to state the reasons for hatred, a new era would arrive, but his complaints wouldn't end by then.
Adrian told me everything about his university life with Dylan, mostly Dylan glaring and throwing sarcastic comments at him, to be honest. Their mutual connection was Avalin, a beautiful and courageous woman, whose death was the talk of the town for a few months.
It was a brutal rape and murder case which was still unsolved. The person responsible for her death was still roaming around free and cops wouldn't look deep into it due to the direct links with some big shot mafia. To find that criminal—that was the goal of Adrian.
According to Adrian, Dylan knew who that person was but wouldn't open his mouth at any cost, which eventually forced Adrian to join the mafia. Something told me that the Mafia who murdered Avalin and the one who killed Dylan's whole family were the same person. It was all connected like a web.
A question popped into my head. "Hey, Ady, did Avalin know about Dylan being in the mafia beforehand?"
"Of course she knew. They were like best of friends." Adrian hummed and took a sip from his espresso. I couldn't help but feel a tinge of jealousy, even though I shouldn't be.
"What happened that day exactly? Where was Dylan at that time?" I inquired.
"Dylan was out of the town, that's what he said before. But it wasn't true because Dylan was the first one to reach Ava's apartment and see her in that bloody condition." Adrian squeezed his eyes shut as a painful expression took over his face, the scenario still fresh in his memories.
He took a deep breath and started, "Dad forced me to join a party which he held for my under-graduation. Ava aspired to be a journalist, so she was investigating a criminal case. Despite my and Dylan's pleadings, she wouldn't listen. Sooner or later, she had to get caught, and she did." He swallowed, reminiscing those arguments between them. "It was before a week of her murder. She started getting paranoid and told me she was getting bad vibes, so I or Dylan used to stay the night with her. That day, it was my turn to look after her, and I couldn't. She got molested and was murdered brutally." The whole time, Adrian's eyes were shut close. It was clear that he was still not over her death.
"Then?" I urged.
"Dylan was the first to reach there since he couldn't reach her cell phone, only to find her in a wounded and bloody condition. She spoke her last words to him. Yes, she was the girl I loved, but she was his only friend after those horrible things happened to him. I can't imagine being in his shoes. I would have probably killed myself. Yet, Dylan didn't flinch and calmly handled the situation, so the criminals won't come after me. He erased every trace that Adrian Hamilton was every Avalin Daphne's boyfriend," he let out.
"That's how I ended up joining the mafia to find out her murderer. I hope you're not mad anymore, Shirley," Adrian concluded, pulling a small smile to assure me.
I nodded reluctantly. I was so feeling so bad for Adrian. So much happened in his life, yet I wasn't there to support him.
"I wa—" Adrian started coughing all of a sudden and covered his face with the menu card. "Crap," I heard him mutter. "Shirley, I need to leave now. I will see you later." He got up and hurriedly made his way out.
What was wrong with him all of a sudden? It wasn't like the FBI crawling around here.
I shook my head at the unrealistic thought and started sipping my strawberry latte quickly. I started to feel uneasy all of a sudden.
"Excuse me, may I take a seat?" asked a sophisticated voice.
"Sure." I flashed him a smile, but my smile dropped when my eyes met the grey eyes of a middle-aged man. His jet black hair was neatly combed, reminding me of someone. "Have we met before?" I asked.
The man smiled and said, "Yes, at the carnival a few days ago. By the way, I'm Dylan's uncle, Tristar Stratford."