Carmine

by Coco Miller

  I fucked it up so badly. If Chuckie doesn’t answer not only do I reap the embarrassment of having some low-level gangster get one up on me, but I’ll also lose Jasmine too. And that is a big fuckin loss.

  I hate that she heard all of that shit I talked to my soldiers, but now that she has, I could kick myself. The look on her face. I will never forget it.

  I might have said all that sweet shit at first to get her to stay, to be able to fuck up Chuckie, but truth is, I do love her. I love everything about her. And I’d kill any motherfucker who would ever do her wrong, including her own flesh and blood who’d rather risk her life than own up to his wrongdoings and debt.

  “Fuckin let her go,” I mutter.

  “Excuse me, Sir?” Tia replies.

  My head whips up and I nearly shout in anger, “I said fuckin take her home. Let her go.”

  “Mr. Volta, maybe we should talk more about this. There has to be a way to fix this. We went through a lot to put this plan together.”

  “That is exactly what I’m doing, Tia. I’m fixing this. I’m letting her go. I should have never taken her in the first place.”

  This is like the shit with my dad all over again. I’ve been a Grade A douchebag.

  “Chuckie had this coming. He deserves worse, Mr. Volta, if I may say so, Sir.”

  “Chuckie does, yes, but not Jasmine. She doesn’t deserve this. She doesn’t deserve to be ruined by me or her father because of what we are. So, let her go.”

  Tia’s face softens as she steps closer to me. “Mr. Volta . . . are you sure?”

  I take a deep breath and close my eyes as if that will somehow make this all seem less painful than it actually is. But when everything goes dark all I see is her pretty almond eyes and velvety skin against mine as I make love to her for the first time, sinking into that tight cunt of hers that yearns for me.

  I hear my name whispered from her sexy lips and how she sounds telling me she loves me back. I watch as she points up at the sky as we sit on the beach and she tells me about how the stars are the only friend she ever had as a child and how much she loves them as she shows me the names of constellations and all the mythology surrounding the twinkling little diamonds.

  I can smell her skin that is a mix of vanilla and fresh roses from the garden. I can even taste her kiss and everywhere my mouth has licked her perfect little hot body.

  All my life I’ve been running from bullets and other men who want to see me dead and claim what’s mine, but it isn’t until now, until these words come spilling out of my mouth that I truly know what dying feels like. What being killed slowly feels like.

  Maybe it’s karma. Perhaps this is my payback for all the shit I’ve done to ruin people.

  I open my eyes and stare right at Tia as I slowly nod my head.

  “Let Jasmine Morris go.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Carmine

  The days after her departure go by in a blur and they turn from days and weeks to months of agony. I’m trapped in the very house that I set up to keep Jasmine a prisoner in, becoming my own fuckin kidnapper. I’m locked in and I can’t leave. My name is in ruins. My heart is an even worse tangled mess. I’m surrounded by her scent and memories as I walk the halls. Roses laugh at me as I rip them from the walls and linens. I cannot undo her presence here though. She’s a ghost living in my house that haunts me daily.

  I try to bargain with God or whoever is up there listening and compromise that if I take care of Jasmine and her mother I’ll get my life back too. I buy them a house and make sure her mother gets a good job. I’m nameless in these events but I hope Jasmine will maybe know, just fuckin know, that it was me who helped out. That I do care.

  She never came back to Pinkies, of course and I closed the doors weeks after because I couldn’t take it any longer. Her grandfather was the owner in name only and has found other things to do with his time.

  I tracked her down with my P.I. and learned she got a good job as a nurse after she went back to school. I may have also made sure she had things a girl needs too, like access to large sums of money to make her dreams come true and head a different path than waitressing for lewd men in a club owned by a ruthless gangster. Jasmine is worth more than a tiny outfit stretched across her great tits and ass.

  I’m glad she took her chance and became a better person. I wish I felt like a better man, but it all just leads to nothing when the sun sinks down into the sky and the stars come out and I am left wondering if she ever thinks about that night on the beach when she told me her secrets. I bought myself a telescope and set it up on my balcony. I try to find the constellations, but I am no damn good at it and it only leads to more frustration.

  I need to get out of New York. I can’t rebuild when I am constantly surrounded by the ghosts. I only take a few personal items from the house and then leave firm instructions with Tia to let it burn to the fuckin ground.

  In the back of a car I have my driver take me to the airport, but before we reach our destination I have to see her just one last time. She lives in a much better building now with a great view on the upper east side. I made sure of it.

  Kitten now has a view of the stars from her bedroom window now, but something tells me she still climbs to the rooftop. Old habits die hard.

  I climb from the car and pull out my cell as I watch her make her way from a yellow cab into her building. I know her every move and routine.

  I’ve kept a watch on her to make sure she’s safe for months now. Full security detail to ensure she is not harmed thanks to my meddling in her life. Her piece of shit father Chuckie actually ended up getting what he deserved, and I didn’t even need to lift a finger.

  He was popped trying to rob a bank and is now doing twenty years behind bars. That makes me smile. I have people on the inside who could easily off him without anyone tracing it back to me, but I think I’ll choose to just let him suffer through his own fate.

  I dial Jasmine’s number and watch through her window as she answers. She needs to keep a better watch for herself. I can’t always be here to pick up for her and make sure she’s safe.

  The phone rings. She picks up on the second and I find my stomach is tight with nerves.

  “Hello?” I allow her to wait, I can’t quite say anything just yet. “Anyone there? Can you hear me? Hello?”

  “Kitten–It’s Carmine Volta. How are you?”

  She laughs, and I don’t know why my name is humorous. “I’m fine. You?”

  “I’m good. I got your number from a friend,” I lie. “I hope that’s okay?”

  She’s still laughing. “Depends on why you’re calling I suppose.”

  “I wanted to invite you to dinner.”

  “You want to eat with me?”

  “That’s generally what two individuals do when they get together to eat, kitten.” Why is she being so nice to me?

  Jasmine giggles adorably and then it all clicks. And I get it. “You’re funny, whoever this is, and good luck trying to be Carmine Volta. But haven’t you heard? He died in a fire. His whole house went up in flames and he was killed.”

  “Does that make you sad? Is that why you’re drunk?” I ask, all too hopeful. Not that she is drinking because of me, but because I want her to feel sad about losing me. I want her to feel anything about me.

  “I just can’t believe he’s gone,” she says seriously. “And this is a really gross joke. You should be arrested for a prank like this, creep.”

  “Oh, kitten. I’d love to handcuff you, that’s for damn sure.” I move closer to her door. “Remember how good my mouth felt on you? My fingers inside of you?”

  Her laugh is high and real, followed by a hum. “Does that come with the dinner offer?”

  I peek through the blinds, watching her as she tosses back a long sip from a mostly gone wine bottle. She’s still in her scrubs from the hospital and then navy-blue pants hug her ass like a glove. I get hard watching her.

  She lets her hair down and shakes it out. I
t’s longer now, and dyed. Auburn curls brush against her skin, falling to her shoulders. The color is striking. I want to be inside of her. I want to taste her kiss desperately. “If it will make you say yes.”

  “Sure. Yeah. Dinner. Why not?” Jasmine laughs again, sounding even more drunk.

  “Take a cab to the address I’ll text you after we hang up.”

  She sighs. “You see, you’re not Carmine. Because Carmine fucking Volta would have said a car would be waiting for me outside of my house. He’s good to me like that. Was always so damn good to me. Treated me like a queen. Like royalty. Now I know you’re a fraud. And that he’s dead.”

  “Legends never die, kitten. They just get reborn into stars in the sky.” I end the call and text the address. My own driver takes me to a place I hide away in when shit was too hot to be seen around the city. It’s a private little place that is a lot less glamorous but much homier feeling than the mansion I built and then burned to the fuckin ground.

  “I have a different name and don’t live anything like Carmine Volta. People around here only know me as the guy who wears a blue Yankees cap and has a reputation for being a writer. Not a very good one. Just some book nerd type who is a recluse that loves being alone with his coffee and good reading material. I’m an excellent neighbor and mind my own business. Pay my rent on time with cash. A landlord’s dream. I should know. I own the building.”

  It’s only thirty minutes later and Kitten is knocking on my door. I’m not wasting any more time. I head right for the locks and swat them away, swinging the door open wide to greet her. It’s all I can do to not lose my shit right now and grab hold of her tiny waist and kiss the ever-loving shit out of her sexy little pouty mouth.

  “Hungry?” I widen the entrance and she gasps staring at me.

  “But you . . .” I shush her and then order her inside. Kitten keeps her eyes glued to me as I close the door and then lock it again. She seems to shrink as she crosses that threshold and I can’t honestly say I blame her.

  The ghosts of the girls who have preceded her linger. I know they are there. You can’t wash that level of indecent and sin away no matter how many alternate names and lives you have led. It’s just a feeling in your gut. It’s just a sickness that comes over you.

  “Let me take your coat.” I say, trying to slice through the tension.

  She shimmies free and I hang it up. Her attire is better than before. By far. Black tights and a short skirt. The top three buttons on her sweater undone. Cotton candy pink cashmere. For fuck’s sake. If I wasn’t dead before, put a fork in me now. She’s ended me twice in one lifetime.

  “Cashmere?” I reach out and graze my fingers along her arm. “Right?”

  “Oh,” she nods and smiles. “Yeah.” She looks down because it’s one of the pieces I bought for her that day we shopped and owned the fuckin better parts of New York’s fashion district. I step forward. I cup her face and draw her eyes up to mine. She’s scared and should be. I allow the backs of my fingers to soothe her supple cheeks.

  “Just us. Relax.”

  A small smile. “Sorry, I don’t normally drink, and you called – I didn’t plan on this. I can’t believe it’s you. Oh, Carmine.” I slide my hands down her arms. I take her fingers and tug her along until she is in perfect placement of the camera. In front of the fridge. I have to control myself to keep from getting hard, just thinking of her tied-up, begging for me to ease her pain.

  I take my glass of St. Magdalene from the counter and draw a slow sip. I offer her a taste, but as she reaches for the glass I tug it away. Her smile is unsure. Under her chin my fingers press, and I call her near. She shrinks under the pressure of my confidence. She crumbles, and she gives in as I press my mouth to hers. My thumb seeking to part her lips and I dribble the scotch from my mouth to hers, before I cap her fully and complete the kiss. She hums and relaxes. I breathe and know. It’s going to happen.

  I didn’t expect so easily, but I take what’s become mine. Her lips are flower petal soft and sure. I don’t like it. I shift to her neck and push her toward the fridge. She rests into the cool silver. She grips onto me as I boldly cup my hand around her tit. First on top of the sweater and then underneath. I swipe my thumb over her nipple and squeeze her until she cries out for me.

  “You like this. You like having a man take you like this. Don’t you, Jasmine? Even after all this time.” I press her head to the fridge and slide my thumb in her mouth. I shove my hips into her, between her legs. “You haven’t given my pussy away have you?”

  Jasmine hums around my thumb. I smear her gloss as I pull away and give a light smack to her cheek. She exhales, and I slap her other cheek with the same lightness.

  “Make me believe you want it.” I tug her ponytail. “Show me you want this cock still and I’ll give it to you so good. God knows I want that sweet tight cunt of yours. I dream of it nightly.”

  She shoves away from the fridge and grabs the scotch. She drinks but doesn’t swallow. On her knees and my pants fall to my ankles. She looks up – fucking looks up at me – and grabs my cock. I reach down and draw her sweater away. She is white lace and see-through. Her tits mashed together so perfectly I can’t remove that kind of art. The scotch is warm as she takes me in her mouth. She swallows as I thrust. Jasmine keeps her eyes on me and licks the tip torturous and expert. I grab a handful of her hair and make her understand she isn’t in fucking charge of this show. I work her gentle but firm enough to keep her in check. She’s got me too close. I am teetering on the edge of my discipline as she takes me again and again into her throat. I draw her up quickly and spin her around. I press her cheek to the fridge. I smack her ass and grip her hair, fisting a handful.

  “No one fucks you like this, do they? You’re still mine. I will always own this part of you.” I kick her feet apart. I slap her in between her legs where she is wet and silk. I keep my hand on her aching cunt and palm her. I roll my finger around her clit. I tap her until she is twisting and anxious. “I asked you a question, precious kitten.”

  “No, Carmine. No one has ever had me but you. Please . . .”

  I put my mouth on her shoulder and slap the thick of my cock between her legs.

  “Please fuckin what? Tell me, Jasmine. Tell me what I still do to you.”

  “Please fuck me. I have wanted you for so long. Fuck me like you used to and make me come on that big Italian dick.”

  I beat my cock against her clit. “Fuck you here?” I pull back and press against her ass. “Or fuck you here?”

  “Mm,” she purrs, grinding her bare pussy on me. She’s still bald and perfect. I fuckin love it. “Both. I want to have you everywhere.”

  I tug her hips toward me. “Stick that pretty ass out.”

  I fall to my knees and eat her pussy until her legs tremble and she is slick sliding across the stainless-steel, panting to stop. To give in. I play her with my tongue and slap my palms against the lush of her ass cheeks. Full and round. Firm. I slide my tongue along her seam before I draw myself up.

  I stroke myself. “Spread wide those thick thighs, kitten.” Her legs shake as she parts further. I tug on her hips and want so deep inside of her I can hardly wait. She cries as I thrust into her, my teeth on her skin. I lick her nipples slow and savor. I tease her and hold still, full and deep inside of her as I watch Jasmine unravel, incoherent and falling free as she comes around my cock. She clings to me and I flip her, so she hangs off the edge of the bed. Right angle. All her. Legs pushed back, and I drive myself into her until she is picture fucking perfect. “Push those pretty tits together.” I pull away and come all over her big bouncing chocolate tits. I stare down deep into her eyes and know in my heart what is true and what is a lie.

  “I love you Jasmine Morris.”

  She stares back up at me and tears form in her caramel eyes. Soft as a kitten she whispers, “And I love you Carmine Volta.”

  Epilogue

  We’ve made a house into a home. On the sands of a beach town with
have learned to love and trust and find a new path in life together. We sleep near the stars and live under the light of the sun rather than the darkness of our pasts. Carmine might not have started out as a hero, but he has become my warrior in for life that will always be on my side and my fiercest protector.

  “Ready?” I ask him.

  “I’ll go anywhere you go, kitten.”

  I have an amazing view of the night sky tonight and I plan on making the most of it. We work during the day taking care of people. I’m a nurse in the local hospital and Carmine is more of a silent figure that contributes to his community by donating funds and working deals to ensure that the less fortunate have a chance to get out of the nightmares they live by. We share the wealth of our bank and our hearts with the people surrounding us, depending on someone to help them when they feel at their darkest. We both grew up feeling alone and we have vowed to not ever be part of that plan again. Speaking of vows . . .

  Carmine is dressed in black. I am in virgin white. It’s a bit of a lie considering how many times we make love a day, but it’s something I’m okay with keeping a secret to our guests. Sometimes love can conquer anything, even our darkest secrets. I know. I am living proof of the power of love.

  THE END