Mad Max (Chicago Crew)

by Sapphire Knight

  I pull on the ankle-length, long-sleeved dress with a deep V-cut neckline. It’s jet-black with a layer of fine ebony lace over top and fits like a glove against my curves. Though I’m not feeling as curvy today, being that my appetite has diminished with my misery. I step into my ‘Anjalina’ Louboutin pumps, reach for my wide-brim dress hat and my sunglasses. They too are all black, and I gain a small sense of comfort having my grief on full display for everyone to witness.

  If Nonna were here, she’d chide me. I can hear her voice in my head, “Add color, never mourn before you must.” She’d say the same thing anytime I was dressed in all black. My red bottoms are for her. She’d appreciate the stark red on the bottom of the pumps, as well as the rubies in my ears. It sends a spasm to my heart, knowing I’ll miss her forever and there’s nothing I can do to change that fact. Today is for mourning, Nonna, I think, with one last glance in the mirror.

  Giovanna is by my side throughout the services. I don’t think I would’ve made it to the end without her. Tradition in the syndicate dictates funerals be large and lavish with everyone in attendance. It’s the appropriate time to pay their respects to the famiglia, as well as say good-bye, and in some cases thanks’ to the departed. Typically, there’d be food and refreshments afterwards, welcoming everyone to stop by afterwards, but I just can’t bring myself to do it. I tried to work up the nerve to go to my parents’ home to figure out having guests over afterwards and I couldn’t go through with it. I don’t care who it offends. They should be sensible to my grieving and respect that I haven’t gotten far enough in this process yet to want to socialize or see anyone for that matter.

  I know I can’t wait forever to go through my famiglias’ belongings and whatnot, but as of right now, I’ll have the maid service keep up with the place. I really need to consider moving back in until I figure out my permanent living arrangements. I got rid of my apartment before I married Max, so that’s out of the question. A nice place like that doesn’t last long on the market, so I already know it won’t be available. I still have to get my things from Max’s place. I’ve been living off Amazon deliveries, aside from what Giovanna was able to grab me from my parents’ home. I’d always kept a few things in my old room in case I needed to stop by there or stayed over for holidays, but it’s hardly an entire wardrobe.

  I’m not entirely sure how Max is going to react to everything now either. He may want to kill me after I shot him, but I have a feeling if that were the case, I’d already be dead. He doesn’t seem to miss his mark, and I doubt that would change with me being involved. I showed him mercy when I shot him and didn’t kill him. I’m sure he realizes as much. There was a voice in the back of my mind telling me to take my vengeance, to make him hurt. I’m a better person than Max, however, so I made my point and walked away.

  I’m an utter mess by the end of the funeral, wanting to wallow in my desolation alone. I attempt to block out the emotions as people begin to make their way over to me. This isn’t a wedding, nor a celebration of any other kind. I don’t want them to say shit to me, just leave me be! Rather than be rude, I think of how my parents would’ve expected me to act if this were another’s services.

  I draw in a deep inhale, and exhale away the anger. I offer my hand to the made man before me. He’s a friend of my father. There’s more in attendance than I can count here. Surprising since Dante Vendetti has killed so many of our people. I can only imagine how the syndicate will respond to so much bloodshed.

  I’m not the only one at a wake today. There’s been several throughout the city over the past few months. I’m sure Joker’s been a busy man, attending them all in an attempt to keep the peace within the syndicate and save face. I know it’s all merely to gain the remaining men’s allegiance, and it’ll work. They’re too scared to follow someone without a founding last name.

  The Five’s deaths began randomly. One from a different famiglia each week, and then it changed, becoming obvious the Five Famiglias were being hunted down. Everyone went into lockdown, except for my famiglia, that is. We were stupid enough to believe we were all safe, that the Castelano line would remain strong.

  Another man passes me, offering their sympathies, and then a woman from my mamma’s circle. She hands me a container full of cupcakes with a bow on top. I thank her when, in reality, I want to toss the goddamn cupcakes back at her. Danny takes the offering from me with a solemn glance before I can assault anyone with them.

  “You should’ve died along with them. How’s it fair you get to survive, but my fiancée was slaughtered with her famiglia? It should’ve been you.” The words are declared with an angry snarl. I raise my eyes from the man’s hands to stare into his fuming espresso glower. I don’t know how to respond, my mouth agape as he continues to toss his words like burning sticks against my bare flesh.

  A large palm lands on the middle of my back, and then half of my body’s shielded by this dominating presence. “I will peel your eyeballs from their bloody fucking sockets if you ever speak to my wife like that again. A threat against her is a threat towards me. Do you have a death wish, motherfucker?” Max seethes.

  I stare at the back of his head, at his light hair, lost in the moment. When did he get here? I didn’t see him anywhere. Not that I expected him to be present, but surely I couldn’t miss him.

  “Mr. Macintosh,” the sour jerk acknowledges, swiftly changing his tone.

  “Enough,” Max growls. “Get away from her before you stop breathing.”

  The man moves on down the line, flashing me a parting look. It clearly declares this isn’t over between us. I don’t know what he expects from me. It’s not as if I can bring his fiancée back or that I had any choice in the matter as to who died. Anyone could’ve married Max in my place, his fiancée included.

  “You may leave. My wife needs to grieve her parents in peace,” Max declares to the rest of the people in the room. He spins around, taking my hands in his palm. “I won’t allow them to speak to you like that. You don’t deserve their bloody bullshit.”

  I blink, staring up at him. This is the first time I’ve seen him since I left the apartment…since I shot him. He touches me as if we’re still together, like this is all natural for him. Perhaps it is. Being surrounded by death is the life of a mobster. I’d toyed with the fact of Max being a gangster, but it never hit home how much that title was true until we married. He is indeed the henchman to Joker’s rule, and that’ll never change I’m afraid.

  “You have your wedding ring on?” he questions, gesturing to my left hand. He lightly grazes the large diamond with the pad of his thumb. Weeks away from this man, and yet his touch still manages to affect me. How is that possible after everything?

  I meet his light irises, his stare penetrating. “Of course. The law and the eyes of God still tie me to you. I’m no fool. I’m aware that being linked to you offers me certain protections in the eyes of syndicate men. The ring will stay in place, and I will never marry again.”

  He nods, remaining silent and stoic. I can read it in his expression that, even if I wanted to remarry someday, he’d never allow it to happen. Max thrives on chaos in his life, and if that has to be me, I doubt he’ll consider it twice prior to moving full steam ahead.

  Giovanna rescues me once again, wrapping her arms around me without falter. “Come on, Isa. Let’s go home.” I allow her to steer me away without another glance at my husband. I’m too busy resenting him inside and missing him at the same time, to move on my own accord. She walks me to their car, pushing me into the backseat and climbing in beside me. Max stays behind, and I watch him speak to the remaining guests and priest as we drive away.

  Later that night, I’m awoken from my fitful sleep to Max’s big body nestled between my thighs. I glance around, wondering where I am and if this is a dream. I’m met with the same plain walls and decorations of Giovanna’s guest room, so I know I’m still in the same place. But what is Maximillian doing here in the middle of the night? How did he get in? I didn�
�t think he knew where I was staying. Lord knows I never offered him any details.

  “Max?” I whisper sleepily into the dark. The only light is the Scentsy lamp I’ve been using as a nightlight so I don’t trip or anything being at a different place. My brain’s been so foggy with my grief, I haven’t trusted my memory here in the dark just yet.

  “Shh,” he soothes. “Just relax. I’ve got you.”

  I should fight him, maybe kick him in his beautiful face. I don’t want his touch or anything else from him, yet whenever his hands are on me, my body ignites. He scoots my panties down my thighs, while caressing my core with his nimble fingers. My hips jolt as zaps of pleasure strike through my abdomen, allowing me to escape from any other thoughts. He’s still in his suit, looking proper and sexy as he always does. I should’ve shot him again.

  “I’ve missed the smell of your arousal,” he murmurs, his lips landing on my clit. My body jumps in response and he chuckles against my core. The deep timbre vibrates my pussy and my breath hitches at the intense sensation. My hand finds its way into his silky hair, tugging at the gold-spun strands too pure to grace his head.

  “What are you doing to me?” I whisper with a gasp.

  “Eating your pussy, darling,” he responds, lips brushing my sex as he speaks. The man has no idea what it does to me. My toes curl, wetness leaking from my core. I can’t give in, it’s not right…but the truth is, I still want to feel him there. I’ve missed his touch. There has to be something seriously wrong with me. He laps at my lips, from bottom to top, and I have to bite my arm to keep quiet.

  His tongue curls around my clit, slurping all over my pussy, doing who knows what, but it’s fucking magical like a vagina unicorn. My legs pull up, spreading wide for him to get all up in there. I’m completely unashamed at taking my pleasure. I know what I want and I’m not afraid to show it. “Yes, sweet fuck, yes!”

  “You’re drenched. You get this wet for anyone else?” His jealousy rears its head, and rather than turn me off, it does the contrary. I want his tongue in me and no other.

  Grasping his hair, I shove his face back where I want it. He’s not done yet. “Keep going, Brit boy. I want to come all over that too-pretty face of yours,” I order, and he obliges, going to town, driving me over the edge. Grabbing the pillow next to me, I stuff my face into it to help muffle my late-night moans.

  Just when I begin to lower my face shield, Max dives back in. He’s relentless, driving me to a second orgasm. It’s exactly what I needed after such a horrible day. He made all my thoughts disappear, replacing them with relaxation and a new wave of fatigue. I’m expecting him to push his slacks over his sexy hips and sink his cock deep inside my core, but he surprises me again.

  Leaving his clothes in place, he crawls his large frame up the bed to lay behind me. He pulls my exhausted body into his, tucking his arm around my waist while closely snuggling his front against my back. With an exhausted yawn, he murmurs, “Sleep, Isa, I’ve got you.” And I do.

  I love you as certain dark

  things are to be loved, in secret,

  between the shadow and the soul.

  – Neruda

  I wake, anticipating there to be awkwardness between me and Maximillian. He did agree to my famiglia dying, and I shot him in return, so of course it’d be weird. Right? Only, I discover the bed empty, aside from myself, and that sends a resounding feeling of emptiness through my body. I don’t understand why I’d want to see him after everything that’s happened between us. Yesterday was more than enough, firstly at the funeral and then again last night. It had to be the middle of the night, and I haven’t any idea how he knew where I was or how to get into my room. Giovanna will lose it if she finds out, so I’ll have to attempt to not spill the details to her.

  I head for the shower, taking a quick one to wash my body, but leave my hair dry. If I smell Max on me, it may give me away or else cause me to blab to my closest friend the moment I see her. I hop out, put some gel pads under my eyes for the puffiness, and style my hair. I’m supposed to go into work for a half day today, and I’m really trying to keep my shit together without falling apart until I’m alone again tonight. I understand the grief process isn’t quick, but I have to be able to cope and focus while doing my job. My famiglia was extremely proud of me for what I accomplished with my career, and I don’t want to start letting them down now.

  I’ve got more issues than I care to acknowledge at the moment, so I don’t. I take it one step at a time, until somehow I come out of my borrowed room looking somewhat like my old self. There’re still the bags and bloodshot eyes, but I manage, and that’s more than I’ve been able to accomplish in the past two weeks. I find Giovanna in the kitchen and offer her the resemblance of a smile. She fixes another cup of coffee, handing it over. I’ll never forget how she’s stepped up to help me through this time. “Thank you.”

  I take a sip, drinking in the rich flavor with a hefty dose of sugar mixed in. “I swear you were a barista in your past life,” I comment and sit on the barstool in their small kitchen. It has a homey feeling, and I’ve always been at comfort here, but maybe it’s the presence of my friend above anything else. I’m fortunate she’s still alive, too far away from my father’s immediate famiglia to be slaughtered with the rest. There are a few more out there, but I’m afraid to reach out too soon and they end up dead as well.

  She stands on the other side of the counter watching me get settled, wearing a warm smile. She snickers at my compliment and sets her cup down. “Well, good thing I’m not, or I wouldn’t have the office right down the hall from yours.” That’s another thing I’d miss desperately, not having her presence at work when I’m bored out of my mind or need to spill the tea.

  “True. This way I get the best of both worlds. Danny’s lucky he landed a babe with skills.” I tease, making her laugh again. It’s the least I can do after being so moody and miserable to be around lately. Grief will do that to a person, pull you under and make you bitter, but at some point you have to start breathing fresh air again.

  “Are we going to talk about last night, or act like it didn’t happen?” Her brow jumps, and I give her the deer caught in headlights sort of look. She knows? Just how much did she hear? I thought I was quiet. At least, I attempted to be. Shit.

  “Ugh, what are we talking about exactly?” I bite down on the inside of my lower lip. I can only imagine what Danny has to say about this if he heard us as well. They must think I’m an idiot. I would if it were someone else, but I can’t go back and change it now. It’s too late.

  She drinks, then folds her arms across her busty chest, not amused with my deflecting tactics. “Last night I called Maximillian.”

  I gasp, not anticipating the look of betrayal coming at me from left field. Jesus, what is it with the people I get close to pulling something crazy? “Uh, excuse me? Did you just admit that you’re the one who called Max or was I stuck in my mind?”

  She nods, releasing a sigh. “You’ve been having some bizarre dreams, if I had to guess anyway…I don’t know what they’re about, but you end up screaming Max’s name. I asked Danny what to do and we thought it may be best to call your husband. I didn’t want you two to kill each other or anything, but you need to talk things out. You deserve closure, or something…I don’t know, and as my closest friend, I only want to help you get through this terrible time.”

  “Oh great, Danny knows about it too? Fuck. Why haven’t you guys said anything to me? I would’ve done…something.”

  “You’re already under so much pressure, I didn’t want to add to it. You haven’t spoken to me about what the nightmares are about, and I wasn’t sure how to bring them up. I don’t want you hurting. What do you dream about anyhow?”

  “Honestly?”

  She nods.

  “I have no idea. If I’m dreaming like you say I am, I’m not remembering them when I wake up. I’ve been sleeping horribly, but I thought it was because of my famiglia’s deaths. I never considered it c
ould be about Max,” I mutter, as my mind races and embarrassment heats my flesh. Here I stupidly believed he showed up on his own will…now, I don’t know how to feel about that either.

  “Are you okay?”

  I shrug, sipping from the hot beverage. “He’s gone, and wasn’t there when I woke up,” I begrudgingly admit.

  Her forehead scrunches as she questions, “You wanted him to stay longer? To be there when you woke up, I mean? Are you angry?”

  I drink some more, stalling. Why did we start talking about this, anyway? “I shouldn’t have expected something different, or anything at all,” I acknowledge after a moment. “He hurt me, which was exactly why I’ve never sought after anything serious in my life to begin with. I never wanted a made man. The Mafia thrives over bloodshed and deception.”

  “It’s okay to miss him or want to be near him…he’s your husband. There’s nothing wrong with missing your husband.”

  Even with our twisted type of relationship? I say nothing. I blame it on needing to keep my head straight for work, but in reality, I don’t want that arrogant Brit to break me any more than he already has. I drain the remainder of my coffee and load my cup in the dishwasher. “I’m going to stop by my parents’ place then I’ll head to work. I think it’s time.”

  “I can come with you,” she suggests, watching me closely. Giovanna’s a good friend, and sometimes I don’t know if I truly deserve her.

  “Thanks, but I need to be able to take care of some of this on my own. I want to see if I can handle being in their house at all right now, or if I need more time.” Although, I know it’ll never become easy, I at least need to start sorting through some of their belongings. There are a few heirlooms that mean a lot to me and I don’t want anything to happen to them. As well as grabbing a few of my dad’s shirts to wear around when I’m missing him more than usual.