The Redemption of Memphis Drake: A Second Chance Romance

by Shay Stone

  Mason looks to me seeking approval. I sigh. “A drag or two. That’s it.”

  He smiles, happy to be included. Colin passes him a lighter, but Mason holds up a book of matches, striking one like a pro. He takes a puff and starts hacking once the smoke burns his lungs.

  “Smooth,” he croaks out. We laugh.

  I pat his back and retrieve the book of matches he dropped. Ice rips through my veins when I read the name on the cover: Dolce Vita.

  THIRTY-TWO

  Take Necessary Precautions

  I catapult to my feet like my chair is on fire. “Where’d you get these?”

  “Off the bar at the restaurant. I heard Max say something about smoking cigars at the house and thought we might need them,” he replies, still trying to catch his breath.

  The guys stop laughing.

  “Memphis, you alright? What’s wrong?” Giovanni asks.

  “Nothing. I’m fine. I just remembered I need to make a call,” I reply, dialing Nyla on my way into the house. I lose a year off my life with each passing ring.

  “Phone sex hotline,” she answers. Her tone is relaxed and flirty with no signs of stress.

  I breathe a sigh of relief. “Hey angel, I just wanted to make sure you made it to your dad’s okay.”

  “Yep. Made it safe and sound. I already washed my face and I’m all tucked in bed. I wish you were here with me. I can’t believe how much I hate sleeping without you.”

  “I’m not looking forward to sleeping without you either. I could come there. Crawl through a window and sneak out again before morning. Although that might trigger the alarm. Your dad does have the alarm set, right?”

  “Yes, Mr. Paranoid. Seriously, who do you think is gonna break in here?”

  I love that she’s so innocent and trusting, but I wish she’d be more cautious. Not everyone is as good natured as her. “Just promise me you’ll check it. There’s precious cargo in that house. I’m sure Max and Colin would agree with me.”

  “Only you could get away with calling me ‘cargo’ and make me feel all warm and fuzzy about it.” She laughs. “I promise I’ll check it.”

  “Thank you, angel. I know you think I’m being overcautious. It’s just because I love you. More than you could possibly imagine.”

  “I know. And even though I tease you, you know I secretly love that you worry about me so much.”

  “I do.”

  “Are you okay? You still sound a little off.”

  “I’m fine. Just tired. I’m about to turn in. I wanted to call to say goodnight. Sweet dreams, angel.”

  “Sweet dreams. And Memphis? I can’t wait to be your wife.”

  I hang up and scrub a hand over my face. Those matches can’t be a coincidence. What the hell am I going to do?

  “Everything okay?” Max asks, entering the kitchen with a raised brow.

  “Uh, yeah. Everything’s fine. I didn’t realize how late it was. I promised Nyla I’d call to say goodnight and I wanted to catch her before she fell asleep.”

  “So, we’re not discussing why you went white and flew out of there when you saw this?” he asks, holding up the matchbook from Dolce Vita.

  Dammit. I didn’t realize I’d tossed them back onto the table. I take them from Max and casually tuck them into my pocket, hoping Giovanni didn’t catch the name inked on them. He’s been investigating Vito’s organization. There’s no doubt he’s familiar with the restaurant. “I didn’t go white. Like I said, I promised Nyla I’d call her.”

  “Uh-huh. You know instead of lying, you could just say ‘Max it’s none of your damn business.’”

  I fold my arms over my chest, choosing my lie. “I’m sorry. Seeing Michael tonight has me on edge. He had a thing for Nyla, and I came here and ruined his chances with her. I guess I’m afraid he’s going to do something to try and screw up the wedding.”

  It’s as good of an excuse as any, and it’s a hell of a lot better than telling him there’s a mobster out there who wants me dead.

  “And the matchbook?”

  “We used to go to that restaurant. The fact that it was on the bar—”

  “Means he was probably there tonight.”

  “Who was probably there tonight?” Giovanni asks, joining us inside. Everyone files in behind him. “That Michael guy that was at the church?”

  “That guy’s a douche. I never liked him. There’s something about him that rubs me the wrong way,” Colin adds.

  “Are they talking about Mike?” Mason asks, causing my body to tense. “He’s always been jealous of Memphis.”

  I catch his eye and shake my head indicating for him to stop talking. Thankfully, he picks up on it. “Hey, do you guys still have that protective detail on Jen and Alex?”

  “Always. Would you like me to assign one to Nyla too?”

  “Maybe. Just until after the wedding. I’m sure I’m just being paranoid.”

  Max holds up his hand and pulls out his phone. “Say no more. It’s better to be paranoid than take unnecessary chances. I promise you Michael won’t get anywhere near her. Nothing’s going to ruin your wedding.”

  THIRTY-THREE

  Know When to Cut and Run

  Throughout the night I’m plagued with vivid dreams. Horrific nightmares of Nyla in a white gown soaked in blood. Sometimes she’s on Edward’s arm smiling, walking toward me when the bodice of her dress is suddenly stained red, and she collapses in the middle of the aisle; other times we’re leaving the church hand in hand as husband and wife when a bullet rips through her heart, and she dies in my arms on the steps. In both scenarios, when I gaze down at my hands, they’re covered in blood and I’m the one holding the gun.

  The last one has me jolting awake, covered in cold sweat. As soon as it’s a decent hour, I reach for the phone and FaceTime Nyla. I need to see her face as much as I need to hear her voice. When she answers, she’s wearing a white silk robe with a cloth napkin draped over her head.

  “Nice veil,” I tease.

  “Vera Wang. You like it?” she teases back. “You know you it’s bad luck to see the bride before the wedding. It was either this or take off my robe, toss it over my head, and answer half-naked.”

  “For future reference, I vote for option B. In fact, how about I hang up and call back and we try it that way.”

  The phone is pricked from her hands. Edward’s face appears feigning anger. “I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that.”

  I clear my throat. “Uh, yes sir. Sorry, sir.”

  He hands the phone back to Nyla, but it’s stolen away by Jen. “Happy wedding day!” she and the rest of the women shout in unison, crowding into the camera and hoisting what I’m assuming are mimosas.

  Alex snatches the cell, getting close enough until only her mouth is visible, and whispers, “Last night we snuck a bunch of sex stuff in her suitcase for the honeymoon. You’re welcome. Hang on, we’ll let you talk to Ned now.”

  Nyla reappears, wiping her mouth with the napkin she was previously wearing. She shoots Alex a dubious glance. “What did she tell you?”

  “Nothing. She was saying how happy she is for us. You look beautiful. I like your hair in that knot thing.” It’s swept off to the side and her face is make-up free.

  “Thanks. It’s called a chignon,” she replies, fussing with it before it dawns on her that I can see her. She throws the napkin back over her head. “Dammit! You weren’t supposed to see me!”

  I laugh. “Too late. I think you can lose the napkin now.”

  “Nope. I’m not taking any more chances.”

  We speak for a few more minutes before Emily informs her the make-up artist has arrived. “I’m sorry, baby. I have to finish getting ready or you’re not going to have a bride to marry. I love you so much.” She lifts the napkin enough to press those supple lips to the phone.

  “I love you too, angel. I’ll see you soon.” I hang up feeling only marginally better. I wish I had my lucky bat with me. I’d love to be able to go hit some balls at the b
atting cages. That always seems to give me clarity. I’ve kept that bat in my truck since I got my license. But the thing’s probably long gone by now. I’m sure Mike forgot to grab it when he was packing everything up.

  Mike. I wonder if I should warn him Vito is in town. As much hatred as I have towards him, part of me still feels responsible for his well-being. I don’t want to see him hurt but I don’t want him to mistake the text as an olive branch either. I decide I’ll fire off a quick message, something to the effect of ‘Vito’s in NYC. Get out of town’, but I’m interrupted by Cora before I can execute it.

  She dabs beads of perspiration from her neck with a handkerchief and releases an exasperated sign. “Memphis, your dad’s fighting me about wearing his tux. Unless you want him to show up in that ratty old Red Sox jersey, I’m going to need some help.”

  “Yeah, alright. I’m coming,” I reply, tucking my phone away and making a mental note to text Mike when I’m through.

  ***

  A FEW HOURS LATER my groomsmen and I are quarantined in a room off the back of the church taking pictures with the photographer. I smile wide trying to enjoy the moment, but the ominous thoughts continue to invade my brain like a cancer. I pat the pocket of my tuxedo pants checking for the USB drive. I’ve carried it since Gino told me about the man in the park, planning to use it as a bargaining chip if Vito happens to show up. It’s foolish I know. Mobsters don’t accept peace offerings.

  “The limo just pulled up. Nyla’s here,” Mason announces, peeking out the window. “Damn, she’s looks beautiful. You’re gonna bawl like a baby when you see her.”

  A smile spreads across my face and my fear is replaced with excitement. It’s really happening. Twenty more minutes and she’ll be my wife. My dad crooks his arm around my shoulder, beaming as we pose for the camera.

  “Seeing your son marry the girl of his dreams, another high you can’t beat. Your mom would be so proud of you. I wish she was here with us today,” he mutters, fighting tears while adjusting my tie. The Red Sox jersey she bought him peeks out under his collar.

  I smile. “Me too, Dad.”

  “I guess we should get out there and start escorting people to their seats,” Colin says, offering a handshake. “Good luck, man. We’ll see you at the altar.”

  I snag Max and pull him aside. “Were you able to get a guard on Nyla?”

  “Yep. The guy was a sharpshooter, studied Muay Thai, and has a black belt in Krav Maga. He’s been on her since last night. Trust me. No one’s getting near her.”

  I sigh with relief. “Thanks Max. You’re a good friend.”

  “You’re welcome. When you get back from your honeymoon, we’re going to sit down and you’re going to tell me what all this is about. But for now, let’s get you married.”

  He hurries to join Colin and Giovanni, leaving me alone with my dad and Mason. Dad is imparting some last-minute words of wisdom when there’s a knock at the door. It opens a crack and Mike sticks his head inside. “Memphis, you in here?”

  “What the hell are you doing here?” I fling the door open ready to tear his head off. But it looks like someone beat me to it. He’s hunched over, cradling his ribs. His face is covered in dried blood, swelling and purpling fast. “Jesus, what happened?”

  “Look, I know I’m the last person you want to see right now, and I promise you’ll never have to see me again after today, but I need you to listen. I stopped by your place this morning to apologize. Two guys came out of nowhere and grabbed me from behind. They started asking a bunch of questions about you. When I wouldn’t answer, they dragged me into an alley and kicked the shit outta me.”

  “What’d you tell them?”

  “Nothing! I swear!”

  “Then why’d they let you go?”

  “One of the guys got a phone call and turned his back on us. I punched the other guy in the nuts and ran like hell.”

  “And you expect me to believe they just let you get away.”

  “I don’t know. There were people on the street. Maybe they thought it was too dangerous to grab me out in the open like that.”

  “Maybe. Or maybe they let you go so they could follow you, knowing you’d come straight to me,” I reply, peering out the window. He’s such a dumbass.

  Mike joins me, struggling to see over my shoulder. “Shit! You think they followed me? Memphis, I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking. I just wanted to warn you.”

  “That’s your problem, Mike. You never fucking think.”

  “We gotta get you outta here. Mason, take your dad and go grab Cora. I’ve got a blue Chevy Malibu parked around the side of the church with the keys in it. We’ll meet you there,” he orders, gripping my shoulder. “Come on, man. Let’s go.”

  I jerk away. “No! I can’t just leave. I’m getting married in fifteen minutes.”

  “Memphis, you have to go. If you stay, you’re putting Nyla and everyone she loves in danger.” He turns to Mason. “Go! And be careful. We’ll be there in a minute.”

  Mason’s eyes flick to me, waiting for confirmation. I lift my chin signaling for him to do as Mike says. His face twists with confusion, but does as he’s asked without argument.

  “What’s going on? The wedding’s about to start. Where are we going?” my dad asks as Mason guides him away.

  I can’t breathe. This can’t be happening. How can I even consider this? Nyla’s my whole world. My everything. I hasten towards the door feeling like my heart is being ripped from my chest. “I’ve got to talk to Nyla.”

  Mike jumps in front of me, flattening his palms against my lapel. “Memphis, I’m sorry but you can’t, and you know it. If you tell her, she’s going to convince you to stay or she’s going to want to go with you. You can’t ask her to live that kind of life. And what about Edward? Are you going to grab him too? Ask him to give up his company to go on the run while you figure this out?”

  He’s right. They have lives here. I feel for the USB in my pocket and pull it out. “I can give this to Giovanni. It’s got all of Vito’s illegal records on it. He can use it to have Vito arrested.”

  I’m grasping at straws and we both know it.

  “And how long do you think that’s going to take? He’ll have to authenticate the information, get a warrant. Vito will have all of us rotting in some shallow grave in the woods like poor Angie long before he ever sees the inside of a jail cell. You know it as well as I do. Either that or you’ll end up in witness protection for months or maybe even years while they build a case against him. That’s if you don’t end up in prison. And then who’s going to take care of your dad and Mason?”

  He rakes his hand through his hair and points down the hall where Nyla is sequestered with her bridesmaids. “And what do you think’s going to happen once Nyla finds all this out? You really think she’s going to stay with you once she learns you’ve been lying to her this whole time? You could have turned that drive over as soon as Mason had his surgery and got off the transplant list. But you didn’t because you knew Nyla would find out the truth.”

  “Dammit!” I curse, pressing the base of my palms into my eyes. “There’s got to be another way.”

  “There’s not. If you stay or try to warn her, Vito will know she means something to you, and he’ll use her. Cut and run, man. Cut and run. You made that rule for a reason. If you go, he’ll think she was just another mark.”

  Right now, I wish that’s all she was. But she’s not. She’s my life. I close my eyes picturing the kids we’ll never have, the family vacations we’ll never take, the anniversaries we’ll never celebrate. I won’t be the one holding her hand when her hair turns gray and laugh lines crease her face. I can’t bear it.

  “I love her so fucking much, Mike,” I mutter, making no effort to hide the tears streaking down my face.

  Mike grabs me by the crook of my neck in a futile attempt to comfort me. “I know you do. And I’m sorry, but that’s why you have to let her go. She deserves better than this. You always told me a good con man
knows when to get out. Well, it’s time to do that. For her sake.”

  I know he’s right. She does deserve better than this … better than me. Deep down, I always knew that. The only person I’ve been conning this whole time is myself. Why did I think this could work? That a woman like her could love a man like me? That my past would stay there and never catch up with us? I know better. It was foolish to think this would end any other way.

  Mason pops his head in the door. “Dad and Cora are in the car. Are we really doing this?”

  “Yes. Get in the car.” Mike grips the sleeve of my jacket. “Memphis come on. We gotta go.”

  “Hang on. I have to do something first.” I search around for a pen and paper knowing I have to leave a note, or Nyla will never believe I left of my own accord. She knows I love her too damn much. She’ll think something happened to me and she and Edward will use every resource they have to find me.

  Oh god, Edward! After all he’s done for me and my family, this is how I repay him. He’s going to hate me too. I can’t even think about what this will do to him.

  I locate something to write with, mulling over the right words. I want to write her a book telling her how much I love her. How she’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me. That I’m a better man because of her. That I’d rather cut my heart out of my chest than leave her. But I know that will only hurt her more. It’s better to give her a reason to hate me. With that thought, I jot down the most basic explanation I can.

  My dearest Nyla,

  I can’t do this. I’m sorry.

  Memphis

  I stare at it, shaking my head. Fuck! How can I do this? My legs start to give out beneath me and Mike hurries to catch me, struggling to keep me on my feet. “Mike, I can’t … I can’t … I can’t do it. I can’t do this to her.”

  “Memphis, I’m so sorry. I wish there was another way,” he says, knowing how much this is killing me. “But remember you’re doing this for her. To keep her safe.”