socalfunplaces Page 40
Page 40
Two women, two choices—both made him realize that the weight of life was far heavier than he had imagined, and that the consequences of many indulgences were unacceptable.
The neon lights of the Allebi bar flickered in the rainy night, like a bloodshot eye.
When Old Joe pushed open the door, the damp air immediately filled with the smells of whiskey, sweat, and cheap perfume.
He shook the water droplets off his black trench coat, his gaze habitually sweeping across the entire space—the third table to the left of the bar was empty, his usual spot.
"The usual, Joe?"
Veronica asked without looking up, her hand already pouring bourbon.
Old Joe nodded and was about to walk to his reserved seat when he caught a glimpse of a familiar figure at the end of the bar.
Kevin was striking for the purplish-black bruise above his left eye, which looked particularly menacing under the dim lights of the bar. Surprisingly, he wasn't helping out at the bar; instead, he sat to the side looking quite dejected.
"Jesus Christ, Kevin, who did you fight with?"
Old Joe sat down next to him, frowning.
Although he and Kevin weren't exactly friends, their families had some daily interactions, and they still showed basic concern for each other.
"Are you really so heartless to let Veronica work all by herself?"
Kevin slowly turned his head, his eyes unfocused, and his lips twisted into an ugly smile.
"Oh, look who this is... Jojo Lee? Has she come to mock my misfortune?"
His voice was hoarse and reeked of alcohol.
Old Joe's brow furrowed even more.
“I was just asking, kid. You look terrible. If you don’t need it, then forget it.”
Kevin suddenly burst into a shrill laugh, drawing the attention of several people at nearby tables: "What the hell gives you the right to call me a kid? Your family is full of poison!"
Old Joe felt a surge of heat on his cheeks.
He put down the glass he had just picked up and tapped his knuckles twice on the bar.
"Watch your words, Kevin. I don't care what kind of bullshit happened to you today, but don't take it out on me."
Kevin jumped up, the chair scraping against the floor with a screeching sound.
He leaned closer to Old Joe, his breath, thick with the smell of alcohol and anger, hitting Old Joe's face: "Your damn nephew... that son of a bitch Victor... he slept with my wife!"
His voice trembled, tears welling in his bloodshot eyes, "And she got Veronica pregnant, and she's going to have the baby! It's a bastard!"
Old Joe felt a wave of dizziness, as if someone had hit him hard on the back of the head.
Veronica's face was dark, but she didn't say a word—it had been like this for days; Kevin wasn't that carefree.
The crowd erupted in laughter, mocking Kevin.
"Kevin, winter's here, and Victor even gave you a hat?"
“Kill Victor! Kevin, I can give you bullets! He made me pay over a thousand dollars!”
Old Joe, enraged, quelled the disturbance at the bar, then lowered his voice, "Kevin, you're drunk. Go home and get some sleep. We'll meet again tomorrow—"
Fuck tomorrow!
Kevin grabbed the nearest glass and smashed it on the floor, shards of glass flying everywhere: "Your bastard nephew ruined it in just one night!"
He grabbed Old Joe by the collar. "Are all your family members like this? Do you just ruin other people's lives for your own amusement?"
Old Joe's movements were so fast they were almost invisible.
A precise kick struck Kevin in the lower abdomen, causing him to bend over like a rag doll, gagging in pain.
Then Old Joe straightened his collar, took out a few bills from his wallet, and threw them on the bar.
"Veronica, find someone to take him home."
His voice was as cold as ice. "And really?"
Veronica ignored her: "Old man, this is none of your business."
Chapter 33 Who is unrestrained by the raging torrent in the rain?
It rained harder.
Old Joe stood under the low eaves of the bar, took out a cigarette from his pack, shook it out, and lit it.
He took a deep breath, letting the pungent nicotine fill his lungs, trying to suppress the restless fire in his chest.
After learning the news, Old Joe began to reflect.
Victor and Veronica?
This doesn't make any sense.
But Victor doesn't seem to be picky about this aspect, something Old Joe knows all too well.
He frowned as rainwater gushed down the tin eaves.
But could he take the initiative with Blake?
Could it be because...?
An old thought suddenly pierced him—was it because of those most difficult days?
Did going into business at that time impair the child's judgment of women?
Did Viktor's standards for women keep dropping from that point on?
'If I had known it would turn out like this, I should never have let him go in the first place...'
Viktor is only eighteen years old, the age when he should be striving for his future. How could he let a woman who crawled out of the sewage ditch in the south district entangle him?
Old Joe stubbed out his cigarette, pulled out his pager from his pocket, and quickly typed in a message.
He called all the children back.
Rain was pattering against the glass window.
Old Joe sat at the dining table against the wall, with Michael and Jason standing in front of him—without saying a word.
"I didn't call you back to show me if you've gained weight!"
Old Joe's fingers tapped unconsciously on the armrest of the old chair as he pushed out twenty dollars. "Can someone tell me what's going on between Victor and Veronica?"
Michael and Jason exchanged a glance, but neither of them said a word.
Old Joe didn't say anything, but added another thirty dollars.
Jason even spoke up: "Dad, we can't betray Victor's secret."
"Oh, it seems you're not short of money lately, you don't even care about fifty dollars."
Old Joe took out all the cash he had on him, a total of sixty-two dollars, and stacked it on top, saying, "That's all I have."
The two remained unmoved.
"If you don't eat the toast, you will be punished with alcohol!"
Old Joe snatched back all 112 dollars and yanked out his belt.
Jason and Michael jumped back a great distance in an instant, shouting, "We can't let our friends down!"
"friend?!"
Old Joe slammed his belt against the empty dining table, making a terrifying sound. "Get back here!"
Jason and Michael stood frozen a meter and a half away, too afraid to run any further or get any closer.
Old Joe stared at them: "Did Victor say this had to be kept secret?"
Would I harm Viktor?
The two shook their heads again.
"Can we just stand by and watch Viktor jump into the fire?"
After a moment's hesitation, the two shook their heads.
But Jason asked one more question: "What kind of fire pit is this?"
"illegitimate child!"
Old Joe declared firmly, "An illegitimate child is more destructive than infidelity! Having a child that shouldn't exist will hold him back for life! Without a complete family, it's hard to focus on one's career! I'll talk to Victor, but that child absolutely cannot be born!"
The two fell into silence.
Jason finally spoke first: "About two months ago, Victor and Fiona..."
"I know this part, skip it."
Old Joe knew Fiona well. "She's not that stupid, nor does she have the guts."
"Later, Veronica heard about it and went to find Viktor... Somehow, Viktor agreed, and then they..."
"Go on."
Old Joe's voice was terrifyingly low.
"They...dated several times."
Michael continued, "Victor truly loved Fiona, but I don't know about Veronica. Later, both of them got pregnant. Fiona wanted to have an abortion, but Veronica told Victor she wanted to keep the child."
Old Joe closed his eyes.
—Viktor, that silly boy, is soft-hearted and can't resist temptation.
And Veronica?
She's no ordinary person.
A woman who can establish herself in the South District has her own plans and survival strategies; she can even keep a man like Kevin completely under her control without marriage.
Her thoughts run very deep.
Where is Viktor now?
"At Old Jack's 'Real Men's Gym',"
Jason replied, "Ever since Fiona aborted the baby yesterday, he's been venting his anger there, he's almost smashed two punching bags to pieces."