Bent not Broken

by Lisa De Jong

  “I-I’m here. It’s not a problem. I can make sure she’s okay.” They both looked at me, speculating. Jimmie glanced at Marcus. They looked at each other for a long time. Finally their eyes were back on me. “Seriously, she’s in bed anyway. I’ll let her know that you guys had to run off, and if she needs anything she can come to Marc’s room.”

  Jimmie pulled his brows in. “Are you sure? If it’s too much trouble …”

  “No it’s fine. Go do whatever you guys have to do. If it’s faster for Marcus to get back home, I don’t mind.” I glanced at Marcus; he had a soft smile.

  “Thank you, Mia. Marcus, I’ll be in the car.” Jimmie walked away. Marcus kneeled before me. He grabbed my hands with his. Looking up, his eyes were filled with distress.

  “Where do you have to go?” I whispered, searching his face for an answer.

  Slightly shaking his head, he pulled his brows in. He was thinking … I wish I knew what was going on in his mind. Reaching out, I placed both my hands on his cheeks and rubbed my thumbs against his cheekbones. Shutting his eyes, he sighed.

  “I’ll be back soon. Thank you for watching Elle.” Leaning up, he kissed my forehead, then lowered and kissed my lips. Before I could question him any longer, he was gone.

  After poking my head into the fourth bedroom, I finally found Elle’s room. She was lying in bed, knees up, and head leaning against a pillow. Her thumbs were tapping against a handheld. She looked up when I entered her room.

  “Sorry to bother you. I just wanted to let you know that your father and uncle had to run out. So if you need anything, I’ll be in Marcus’ room. Are you okay?”

  Placing the handheld on the nightstand, she sat up Indian style facing me. “Why do they always go out so late?” she asked.

  “Does it happen a lot?” Making my way to her bed, I sat on the corner, lifting only one leg to face her.

  “At least once a week. Last night Uncle Marc begged my daddy to go with him, so he could finish faster, but my babysitter, Melissa, is off this weekend. She gets one whole weekend off a month.”

  “Do you know what they go do?” She shrugged. Of course she didn’t; I don’t even know why I asked her.

  “Well, Elle, I’m heading to bed. If you need anything let me know. Okay?” Smiling at me, she nodded. Elle flopped back in her previous position and grabbed her handheld again.

  Chapter Fifteen

  It had been four hours since the guys left. Ever since then, I’d been pacing back and forth in the bedroom, wondering what the hell was taking them so long. Glancing at my cell phone for the twentieth time, I threw myself on the bed and stared at the ceiling. I’d been holding back from calling or texting him. It was so hard to do when I was worried sick. What were they doing?

  Whatever it was, I knew it was bad, and something told me it had a thing or two to do with Lou. The mere sound of that man’s voice gave me the creeps, let alone his name. I could feel Marcus’ uneasiness in his voice and posture when he talked to Lou. Jimmie and Marcus were in something way deeper than I could imagine, but I didn’t know what it was and why it was so hard to just walk away from.

  “Mia?” Elle’s frightened little voice froze my thoughts. I leaned up on my elbows as she hurriedly ran over to me. Her eyes were almost in tears, and the tight grip she held on her blanket allowed me take her into my arms.

  “Did you have a bad dream?” I asked as she curled up in a ball on my lap. She shook her head and looked up at me.

  “No, I heard noises downstairs from the living room. I don’t think Daddy or Uncle Marc is here. Someone’s in the house.” I froze. What do I do? Taking a deep breath, I tried to hide my fear for her sake.

  “It’s okay. I’m pretty sure it’s nothing. I’m going to check to see what the noise is. Lock the door behind me, and if I’m not back up in ten minutes, call the police. My cell phone is right here,” I said, pointing at the nightstand. “Do you think you could do that?” She nodded her head. “Good, it’s going to be okay. Don’t worry. I’ll be back soon,” I said, giving her a reassuring smile.

  She followed me to the door, locking it behind me. I turned the knob to make sure it was secured. I couldn’t hear anything, but Elle’s room is farther down the hall near the staircase. Making my way down the hallway, I tiptoed, so that if anyone were here, he couldn’t hear me. When I reached the top of the staircase, I hesitated, waiting to hear something before making my way down.

  I waited three long minutes. There was no noise, so I decided to go back to the room. I slowly turned on my toes. When I heard a loud thump, I quickly turn backed toward the stairwell. I bent to see if there was anyone at the bottom of the steps. My heart picked up its pace. I could do this; it was probably nothing. Slowly tiptoeing down the stairs, I heard a few more thumps and a voice mumbling.

  At the end of the stairs, I followed the voice. When I reached the front door of Marcus’ office, I sucked in my bottom lip and bit. Taking a deep breath, not knowing what to expect, I opened the door. His office was dark, and the only light was from the lamp in the far right corner. I jumped when I saw Marcus lifting his head from behind his desk. He was slouched and lying on one arm, while the other hand held a half empty bottle of brandy.

  “Marcus, you scared me.” Relaxing my shoulders, I made my way toward him. When I got closer, I noticed that his eyes were blood shot. He could barely keep them open. “Did you drink all of that?” I asked, reaching for the bottle in his hand. He pulled back in his seat and chugged another swig of the drink, then slammed the bottle back on the desk making a thumping noise. Now I know where the noise was coming from.

  “You are so beautiful.” He whispered in a raspy tone.

  “What’s wrong, baby?” I asked worried. He seemed lost. I’d never been around him this intoxicated, so I maintained my distance. You never know what to expect from a drunken person.

  Taking another sip from the bottle, he smiled. “Nothing’s wrong with me. I’m great!” He threw his hands in the air laughing.

  “Marcus, let’s go to bed, okay?” I whispered, hoping my low voice would lower his.

  “You know what fucking pisses me off?” he said, dismissing my plea.

  “What, baby?”

  “When people say, ‘don’t worry about it; it will get better,’ or I love this one um, ‘things happen for a reason.’” He burst into laughter. I just stared at him lost.

  “Yeah, that pisses me off too, Marcus,” I said, trying to side with him.

  He looked up at me with his brows pulled in. “See that’s why I love you so much.” He shook his head. “You don’t deserve me, Mia. You deserve someone so much better than me.” Carelessly he stood up, dipping side-to-side as he made his way toward me. He tripped over an area rug and fell into me. I stumbled back but managed to keep us from falling. The liquor from his breath and clothing was so strong I couldn’t bear it. He chuckled at himself and straightened his posture, pulling me into him.

  Looking into my eyes, he seemed to search for answers. “Why do you love me?” he asked.

  I looked at him troubled by his question. “Marcus, you should know. You’re funny, sweet, and a gentleman. I love how you talk about your family. I know they mean everything to you. And today watching you with Elle, I know one day you’ll make a wonderful father.”

  “You think all that about me?” he asked, disgusted. I nodded. “I’m an evil man. You only know half of me. If you knew the other half, you would run. I’m far from perfect, Mia.”

  Grabbing his face, I managed a stern tone. “Hey, no one’s perfect. I love you no matter what. You hear me?” He looked away. I grabbed his face and pulled him back to look at me; his eyes softened. “I love you, Marcus, perfect or not, but obviously whatever you’re into is breaking you. If you don’t let me in, I won’t be able to help you.”

  Pressing his lips down, he looked like he was going to break. His eyes were watering, his face was red, and he let out a heavy sigh. “Mia, I’m—”

  “That’s e
nough, Marcus.” Jimmie stormed into the room. He snatched the bottle of brandy from Marcus’ hand and tossed it into a trash bin beside the desk.

  Startled by his entrance, I mumbled, “Jimmie, Elle is in Marcus’ room.”

  “I know. I went to look for her when I didn’t see her in her room. She told me that she heard noises, and you went to find out what it was. I’m sorry about this, Mia. I’ll take him into one of the other rooms,” he said, throwing Marcus’ arm around his shoulder. Then he wrapped his arm around Marcus’ waist to hold him up.

  “No, no, take him to his room. I can’t leave him like this.”

  Jimmie nodded once. He managed to help Marcus walk up the stairs and down the hall. By the time we reached the room, Marcus pleaded for the bathroom. Jimmie placed Marcus in front of the toilet. Marcus hugged the toilet and began to throw up. His face was red, and veins popped out of his neck and temples each time he vomited. Jimmie leaned against the sink, legs and arms crossed. He looked exhausted.

  “Jimmie, it’s okay, I’ll take it from here. Go ahead and go to bed.” Looking up at me, he thought for a moment, and then his shoulders relaxed.

  “Are you sure?” he asked, looking back down at his brother. I followed and watched as Marcus continued to vomit and groan.

  “Yeah, I’m sure.” Glancing at his brother once more, he shook his head and walked out, closing the bathroom door behind him. I waited a few seconds before I went by Marcus’ side.

  “How you feeling, baby?” I asked, rubbing the palm of my hand on his back.

  “Like crap,” he said, choking on his own vomit.

  “Yeah, well you smell like crap too. Do you want to take a shower?” He shook his head.

  “I know you don’t want to do anything right now, but you’ll be doing me a favor if you take a shower. Also you’ll thank me tomorrow morning. I’ll take one with you.”

  Lifting his head from the toilet bowl, he groaned, “Fine.”

  Testing the temperature of the faucet, I turned the shower on. I walked back to Marcus; he was leaning against the sink cabinet. Sighing at him, I began to take his clothes off. Starting with the easiest, I tossed his boots off. Luckily, he wore a button-down shirt, so I just quickly unhooked the buttons and removed the shirt. It was exhausting taking off clothes for a drunken man. His arms weighed three times as much. After I wrestled and struggled with his jeans and boxers, he was completely naked.

  Tossing my t-shirt and shorts off, I kneeled before him and placed his arms around my shoulders. I tried lifting him once, but he didn’t bulge; I tried again, nothing. “Baby, you have to help me a little. Try to stand up for me.” Groaning, he obliged. We slowly made our way to the shower, and he sat in the tub instead of standing. I adjusted the showerhead, so the water could hit him. He leaned his head back against the tile wall and shut his eyes. His head gently rolled from side-to-side as he moaned. I grabbed the washcloth and soap. Kneeling across from him, I nestled between his legs.

  “Mia?” His eyes were still closed when he called my name.

  “Yes, Marcus?” I asked while rubbing the cloth over his chest. The water dripping over his head rinsed the foamy suds away.

  “I’m sorry.” I didn’t respond just continued to wash him. What was I going to do with him? I loved this man so much, but I had no idea what to expect in this relationship. Can I handle more nights like this? Is this an ongoing event? I’d save my questions for the morning, because when he wakes up, I’ll be questioning the hell out of him.

  ****

  “What do you think of this dress for today, Mia?” Elle twirled around, modeling a yellow sundress with white flowers. I smiled at her. It was the sixth dress she tried on so far.

  “I love it. They are all very pretty, Elle, but if I have to choose one for today, I would have to say that one.” She squealed with delight and ran back into her closet.

  Marcus was still asleep. It was almost noon, and I didn’t have the heart to wake him. When I woke this morning, I took a shower and dressed, meeting both Elle and Jimmie in the kitchen. We had breakfast together.

  Jimmie and I didn’t mention anything about last night. Maybe it was because Elle was with us. I realized I truly misjudged Jimmie when we first met. He was nothing like I thought he was. He’s a family man, just like Marcus, a loving and devoted father to Elle. At times he seemed to drift off thinking, trying to hide the loneliness in his eyes, but once he looked at Elle, it all went away. Jimmie, just like his brother, is a very handsome man, I wondered why no female had come and stolen his heart. He still may have been grieving from the loss of his wife. If I had any female friends and if any of them were good enough, I would definitely try to play matchmaker.

  There was a knock at the door, and a gentle female’s voice followed. “Where’s my precious granddaughter?” A petite woman walked through the door. She was dressed in a fitted summer dress and wedge heels. Even with the heels, she still looked tiny. Her long light brown hair and gleaming green eyes radiated with her soft fair skin. Elle ran from the closet and jumped into her grandmother’s arms. Mrs. DeLuca hugged her tightly with closed eyes. When she re-opened her eyes, she finally laid them on me.

  “Well, Elle, who’s your friend?” She asked with a huge grin while straightening her posture.

  “Grandma, this is Mia. She’s my new best friend and Uncle Marc’s girlfriend.” Elle grabbed her grandmother’s hand and dragged her over to me. I stood from the bed and offered my hand.

  “Hi Mrs. DeLuca, I’m Mia. It’s very nice to meet you.” She gently smacked my arm away and pulled me into a tight hug.

  “Oh, call me Theresa!” She tightened her arms. “It’s so lovely to finally meet you. You’re all my son talks about lately.” She pulled back, looking me up and down. Her face was beaming with satisfied delight. “And I can see why now. You’re gorgeous!” Smiling, I placed my hand against my belly. I’m not sure why. I was embarrassed by the compliment, and I thought maybe by doing that it would hide me.

  “Thank you.” It was all I could say.

  “So where’s my son? I haven’t seen him in weeks.” She tilted her head.

  “Oh, he’s still sleep—”

  “I’m right here, Mom,” Marcus said, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand. His hair was a mess, his eyes were still blood shot, and he was only wearing pajama bottoms. Most people would look terrible after chugging down a bottle of liquor, but Marcus DeLuca is not most people. He was still good-looking. She turned with joy and ran over to her son.

  Theresa was so tiny in his arms. He embraced her with a tight hug and bent over to kiss her cheek. Then he stood up straight, looking in my direction. His gentle smile met mine. His mom was still clinging to his waist.

  He looked down at his mom and smiled. “Mom, you act like I haven’t seen you in ages.”

  “It feels that way. Do you know how it feels to have both your boys all grown up? One minute they come to you for everything, the next they don’t need you.”

  Marcus playfully rolled his eyes. “No Mom, I don’t know how that feels, but we still need you, especially for Sunday dinner.” He laughed.

  She nudged him in the rib with her elbow. Stretching out her arm towards Elle, she called out, “Come on my little helper, Grandma has a lot of prepping for dinner tonight.”

  “Can I help?” I blurted, not ready to be alone with Marcus yet.

  Her eyes widened, and her dimple remarkably appeared when her lips curled up her cheeks. “Of course, darling, I would love your help.” She walked past Marcus and patted his arm before making her way down to the kitchen.

  When I followed behind her, Marcus stepped aside to block me from exiting. Looking up at him, I crossed my arms. “Mia, can we talk? I know I messed up last night.” His chest moved in and out as he breathed impatiently.

  All I ever wanted to do was talk, but he always shut me out, giving me half-assed answers. With his family coming, I’d rather have a talk after they leave.

  “We can talk, but
after the dinner. Right now I’m going to help your mom, then have this dinner with your family, and then you and I are going to have a nice long talk.”

  “Are we okay?” he asked desperately.

  To be honest, I wasn’t sure. Considering last night’s drunken binge and being stood up the night before when he was six hours late, I needed answers, but he was always shutting me down.

  “We’ll talk later, Marcus.”

  Closing his eyes shut, he stepped aside to let me by.

  Chapter Sixteen

  I was placed on dicing duty: chopping the potatoes, tomatoes, and veggies. Elle was on rinsing duty: she stood on a stool by the sink rinsing all the fruit, meats, and vegetables. Theresa was busy preparing the meatballs and other items for the dinner tonight. She moved so fast in the kitchen I wasn’t sure she needed help at all. Jimmie was watching a game in the living room. I laughed with his mom as she talked about raising two boys who were four years apart. She had plenty of stories about the two of them. His mother was loud for someone so little. She also moved her hands wildly as she talked.

  Theresa began going down the list of all the family that was coming tonight. It was a lot! I never knew anyone with such a huge family, and they get together once a week for dinner! She went down the list, warning me who to stay away from, who was the sweetheart, who would bust my “balls,” and which of Marcus’ cousins would try to hit on me even in front of Marcus. She said not to worry about them though; they’d just be teasing Marcus for fun. I tried to keep up with them, but there were too many. On Theresa’s side of the family there were four brothers and two sisters. Marcus’ father had three sisters and one brother. Their brothers and sisters had kids who also had kids! It was exhausting just to think about.

  “So, Uncle Marty is the pig?” I asked, describing him exactly as she described him to me.

  “Yeah, but don’t worry about him; if he makes you feel uncomfortable, I’ll throw him out,” Marcus said jokingly as he walked in the kitchen. He was freshly showered, his hair was tamed, and he was dressed in a fitted black t-shirt and jeans. He was back to his normal self. Picking up a knife from the counter, he stood beside me. Grabbing a carrot, he began to chop it. He smelled so good this close compared to last night when it smelled as if he’d bathed in liquor. I watched him as he pushed the chopped carrots aside with the pile of diced veggies I’d already done, and grabbed another one.