by Anthology
“No, it isn’t,” she tells me, pushing herself up as much as she possibly can. “You were scared, Zane, you’re allowed to be, but that’s when you know it’s pure. Love isn’t meant to be friendly. Amelia is such a kind soul, but her nature is fiery. You could deal with that like she could deal with you. Once you realize that her father isn’t the only one that has a hold her, you’ll be unstoppable.” She gives my hand a reassuring shake. “You could save her, so just think about it. Remember I’ve met her and watched you two, she’s looking for her hero. Maybe round two could involve you being that.”She gives me a cheeky wink, even now, with her life ebbing away, she’s still able to love me and care for me and make me see sense. “After all, I’d love to see her again,” she says, relaxing back into her pillows. “Call it my dying wish.”
“Mom,” I groan, scolding her for pulling that card. “That’s not fair.”
“Nor is life,” I mutter, trying to make her see some clarity and sense.
“But we live with the cards we are dealt, so appease a dying wrench, won’t you?” she asks, casting me a look that tells me not to rival her. “You’ll need her Zane, not just for now, but for the future. She’ll be the one who will make you the happiest you can ever be. So call her, make peace and mend your heart and hers.”
“Fine, I’ll make some calls, but first you need food and your meds.”
I stand up, kissing her forehead as I leave her to rest. I take a hold of the door handle, turning as I pull it closed and cast a look back. She’s already got her eyes closed, looking serene regardless of the cancer taking its hold. I lean against the door frame, closing my eyes as despair flares in my heart.
It’ll be something that will always haunt me, but Amelia is never going to make it here.
I’m never going to contact her.
It’s a wound I can’t bear to open when I know that any day now my mother will pass away and I’ll be left emptier man.
I want her back for love, not for pity.
This is a secret that will kill me slowly, but it’s the best one to keep.
CHAPTER SIX
AMELIA
ZANE.
My mind tells me as it’s his lips trailing through the naked valley of my breast. It’s he who I want even when I know I shouldn’t. It’s Zane I desire, the man who forces my body alive in ways no way can ever understand. Zane, my mind whispers, captivating my attention wholly with just one word and I lose myself completely.
Zane, it echoes again, this time louder as my body works its way to that euphoric high, feeling him rocking in and out at me with such rhythm it’s hard to not forget everything. I feel hands grip my hips, his spend hastening as he thrusts into me harder and deeper. I know he’s going to come just as I am because his grip tightens just as I fall from nirvana.
“Zane,” I whisper as I feel myself become unbidden.
I feel myself clenching down around his length as I continue to fall and his body goes rigid and he falters a little over me as he comes too.
His name doesn’t sound out loudly, it’s feather light and surreal and I know why when I feel his lips kissing mine. It’s not Zane here with me. I can force myself to think it is, lie my way through every orgasm, but it’s not going to be him. When I open my eyes, the remorse filters back in and I feel guilty for using a man for my own sadistic sexual gratification.
“Bella?”
I quit my musing to look at him, my eyes settling upon soft olive orbs that look at me with such adoration that my guilt only magnifies. He hurt in the beginning at my inability to love him, but not anymore. He understands that the wounded soul I am will not heal as quickly as everyone would like.
“You did it again. You said his name,” he remarks, his Italian accent washed through his words. “He did a real number on you.”
“I’m sorry,” I say sitting up, pulling the sheets around me. “I can’t stop it.”
I hate myself a little more each time I lure Lorenzo into my bed and allow him to try and fix me. I’m not an easy fix. I’m beyond broken, shattered into so many thousands of tiny pieces. However, I keep trying in the vain hope that one day, he’ll replace the memory my hearts taken prisoner.
I guess my first issue is that Lorenzo is the Italian version of Zane Maverick – tall, dark, and handsome. Even their jaw lines are cut the same, but Lorenzo’s face is softer than and not as masculine as Zane’s and his eyes are olive green unlike Zane’s deep blue ones.
He’s my fantasy, my escape, my guilty pleasure – and I hate myself for it.
“I need some fresh air,” I say, getting up entirely, wrapping the sheet around my naked form.
I escape my room, but only to go onto the balcony. From here I have a watch spot that casts out for miles. From here I can look straight out across the sea surrounding Amalfi Coast. I’ve spent many nights out here, getting lost in the way the moon glistens across the delicate waves below.
Sinking into my seat, I continue to do the same but the time I’m wrapped in nothing but a sheet.
For once, I’m not here to reflect or to wonder what is happening back in Manhattan. Tonight, I’m here because I can’t bear to lay beside Lorenzo for another second without being eaten alive by self-hate.
I’ve torn through a lot of emotions because of a lot of people, but never have I truly sat here and held myself a culprit – until now.
After all, I wouldn’t be here, trying to use a man to fill a void in my heart, if I’d never trusted the damn thing in the first place!
CHAPTER SEVEN
ZANE
“WHY ARE YOU here?”
I squint against the sunlight, trying to make out Billy’s form at my motel door. Looking over his shoulder, I notice Enzo and Carlo are in the car, the engine still running. Enzo looks over at me, nodding his head in my direction. I know he’s not happy with any of the decisions I’ve been making since that faithful night, but he’s still here, still willing to watch me.
“We’re your ride into the Abbiati house,” Billy says, stepping forward to force me into my hotel room. “So you have fifteen minutes to get in that shower, get shaved and put some gel in that hair of yours.” His orders don’t go unnoticed on me as he tosses a bag in my direction. “That’s a brand new suit and shoes, and everything you need to look the part.”
My brow furrows, tugging together fiercely.
“And whatever you do, Zane, don’t wear that fucking dumb ass look when you go in there. It won’t end well if you do.” I can hear the mirth in his tone he uses. “Now, get ready. You’re needed at the house by noon. You don’t have long to get your shit together, so please, for your sake, I hope you have your speeches and arguments prepared.”
“I’ve known for a long time what it is I want to say to that man,” I state, going off into the bathroom with the bag of clothes.
I do as I’m told – robotically, I shower, I shave, I prepare myself to be presented to the great Salvatore.
As a cop, I’ve had my fair share of confrontational moments. I’ve been threatened, attacked and shot in the line of duty. I’ve dealt with junkies, psychopaths and desperate men. Not one of them comes even remotely close to what is that Salvatore Abbiati brings to the table. He is a man on top of his underworld. He has faithful men who do his bidding and work tirelessly to keep him happy. He has connections across all boroughs of New York and he is willing to show how expendable his workers are. He calls himself a dutiful family man, but I’ve seen how he treats his own. I witnessed firsthand what he’s supposed love did to his only daughter.
The one and only woman I loved grew up to be abused and manipulated. She was forced to see that all she had in the world was all at her father’s disposal and in time, that factor destroyed us not once, but twice.
Adorning the new suit, I hate that the guys have gone to this effect to help me fit the part. I know, right away, Sal will recognize that I’m trying too hard, but I know Enzo wouldn’t set me up to be killed that easily. Unlike his brother, Gio, he
is the most understanding of them all. The fact he’s been whenever I have, checking on me, tells me that.
I expected total abandonment. He refused to give me that.
Stepping out of the bathroom, Billy is stood, partially leaning against the dresser opposite the beds. He looks up, at first with no emotion and begins to look away before looking back at me shocked.
“Well fuck me, you do clean up well,” Billy comments, pushing away from the dresser to face me better. “You could practically run with the big guys wearing that suit, Maverick.”
“I feel like a fraud,” I mutter, straightening up the lapels of the suit.
“My only advice, right now... don’t act like that.”
“I guess this has just taken away any opportunity I had to run away,” I quip, jokingly. “I think it’s time we go.”
“You’re really ready for this aren’t you?”
“More than anything in my life before,” I admit, giving a ghost of a smile. “I wasn’t prepared to love and accept Amelia before, but I know after this, I will be able to. After I’m done, I’ll know what I have to do in order to get her back.”
“I knew she’d leave her mark, but I always imagined you’d be able to walk away from her somehow. You did the first time. I just wish I had seen how cut up you really were after that.”
“What I did to her the first time was callous. What I did the second time is unforgiveable.” I pause, taking a moment of clarity. “But I will work the rest of my life proving to her how sorry I am. Doesn’t matter how many times she says she isn’t listening to me, I’ll make sure I don’t stop trying.”
“You’re going to need to keep that in mind when you confront Sal soon.”
“I will, don’t you worry,” I say, walking across the room to head towards the door. “Think it’s time to get this all moving onwards. I’m sick of this fucking place.”
We walk out; I slam the door and make my way across to the black SUV. There are no pleasantries exchanged, Billy just gets into the back of the car and I follow dutifully. Even once inside Enzo makes no effort to talk to me, Carlo gives me a slight head nod before we start the journey to the Abbiati mansion.
While Enzo drives, conversation slowly starts to filter into the car.
“Hell is about to be unleashed,” Billy muses, rubbing his hands together. “I bet Giovanni has been waiting on this day.”
“He sees it as a game which is why he pushed for it to happen so fast,” Carlo answers, not even bothering to look over his shoulder. “He’s just willing to watch what happens to you once you’re in front of Sal. Especially after the fight.”
“Even Sal laughed at the mess Zane made of his son’s face,” Billy quips before looking at me. “You’re going to have to be prepared to speak with your fists from today onwards.”
“If he makes it,” Carlo jokes, chuckling to himself. “What are you going to tell the man when you’re asked?”
“The truth,” I utter, sounding unsure. “It’s all I can offer.”
“I can’t do this!” Enzo suddenly yells, stopping all conversation. He forces the car to a stop, braking on the side of the highway. He turns around, eyes narrowing straight onto me. “Do you know what you’re doing is dubbed a suicide mission for one reason? Men don’t walk out of these situations on their own! Fuck, they don’t walk out of it at all. Do you know how stupid you’re being?”
“Yes,” I reply, keeping my face completely deadpan.
“And you have no fucking clue if Amelia’s even going to want you back!” he yells, clearly trying to force me to see sense. “None of us know who we’ll be getting back, but from what I’ve heard, it won’t be the Amelia we loved!”
“Love,” I state, forthright and assertive. “Doesn’t matter what she’s been through or how she behaves when she’s back, we’ll love her because nothing fucking changes! She’s still Amelia! She’ll still be the Amelia you protected. Still the same girl that made me fall in love. Nothing changes with our love for her!”
“Well, least you have some awareness she won’t be coming back this time the same.” He begins to turn back, sounding a little off. “I just need to know you’re aware of that and the fact that you might not survive the night to find out.”
“Oh God, you’re beginning to sound like a broken record here!” I exclaim, throwing my hands up in the air. “I know what I’m doing. I want to be doing it. And the sooner you start the God damn car up the sooner I can do it! I promise you, Enzo, I am worth so much more alive than I am dead.”
“And how do you work that one out?” Carlo now chimes in, twisting to look at me.
“Killing me might silence everything I know, but killing me means he never gets Amelia back. I might have been stupid, but you and I all know that without me, Amelia never stands a chance to be who she wants to be.”
“Bastard makes a valid point there,” Billy admits. “You might all hate him for what he’s done, but her hold on him is as strong as his on her.”
“Love,” Enzo scoffs, putting the car into drive, preparing to enter back into the traffic. “It’s good for nothing.”
“It’s good for everything,” Carlo remarks, sounding sincere. “But they’re right, Zane is worth so much more alive than dead now. Maybe it was the other way once upon a time, but the moment she fell in love, he was untouchable.”
“We’ll have to see if Sal thinks that way when we see him,” Enzo mutters, as he joins the thin stream of traffic and drives towards Manhattan.
“How is Gio looking today?” I ask, licking my lips to fill the cut that split them when Gio punched me the other night. “I hope he still looks sorry for himself.”
“Sal found it hilarious you managed to bring him down,” Carlo admits to me. “I guess that wins you some favors you didn’t have before.”
“Yeah, he was quite impressed,” Enzo chimes in, this time with a different attitude. Some of the angst is loosening from his voice. “And we all know that Salvatore loves having men he can use.”
“I plan to be one of those,” I mutter. “Just you wait and see.”
***
We pull into the drive before the gates of the mansion, Enzo lowering his window to tape in the code. It’s not I start to feel my heart slowing its beating as my fight-or-flight defense begins to take over, muddling my rationality and questioning my earlier motives.
It escalates as the car comes to a halt and Enzo kills the engine.
I feel bile begin to build in my throat, forming an acidic lump that is both impossible and rancid to swallow around. I struggle to settle my breathing, reminding myself of the simple duty of inhaling and exhaling. My feet feel weighted, but I know it’s my sudden reluctance to enter this house.
Nothing good will come of this initial meeting, I’m not being foolish enough to ignore that fact, but I won’t let it deter me.
“Show time,” Enzo mutters as we walk into the foyer. “Before we go in, I’m curious about something.”
“What’s that?”
“How did you spend your night of triumphant after pummeling Gio to a pulp?” he asks, a small grin twitching at his lips. “You ran off pretty quickly after. I just wondered if you did that so you could plan what it is you’re going to say in there, or if you didn’t bother.”
“No, I spent my evening getting victory lap dances while I plotted my every word,” I mutter, albeit sarcastically. When I look up they’re all staring me, eyes intently on me. I just break into a weak smile. “I went back to the hotel, cleaned myself up as best I could, had a couple of night caps and crashed.”
“Hard by the looks of it,” Enzo retorts, his tone dark. “You need to look sharper because, right now, you still look like a man who hit rock bottom.”
“That’s because I am,” I admit lowly. “But don’t panic, I won’t let that change anything.”
“Guys, it’s time,” Carlo says, now with Manuel by his side. “He’s waiting.”
“Let’s go.” Enzo’s comment ends with h
is hand coming to my shoulder, gently guarding me forth. “We’ll be there, but it’s all on you, Zane. We can’t help you in there.”
“I know,” I say, straightening up my suit, I take the first step, walking past them all to lead the way. “Let’s get this over with.”
As we walk towards one of the backrooms, the noises get louder. I force myself to forget about the crowd, wanting my sole focus on the man of the house – Salvatore Abbiati. The masses part for me, all eyes drop to focus onto me, and I know the reality that is about to crash upon me is going to be suffocating.
“Gentlemen!” Sal announces as I break free of the crowd of men and take my steps forward. “We have a charlatan in wolves clothing with us today!”
I step forth, not gesturing a welcome. Instead, I keep my eyes forward, looking at Salvatore with a deadest gaze.
“Oh, how I hate to see a dead man still living.”
“I guess we both have Amelia to thank for that,” I jest, pleased how my voice travels.
“Don’t you dare utter her name,” he remarks, admonishing my joke.
“Why not?” I ask, not purposefully playing dumb. “She’s the common ground we share.”
“And you’re the reason she isn’t here, right now,” he replies, his voice taut with mounting aggression. “What is your game, Maverick?”
“I’m playing no game.”
“I know that’s a lie,” he snorts, shaking his head in dismay. “You think you can come into my house and stand straight in front of me, before all of my men and say you want to be a part of it?!” Sal asks, his voice a sonic boom in the silence of the room. “What brand of fucking crazy are you? Because from where I’m standing it looks like you’re the suicidal type who likes to tread very fucking dangerously with the wrong crowd!”
I remain silent, knowing there is a time for my say on this debacle and sadly, I know it’s not quite yet.