Sleeping with the Beast

by Hamel, B. B.

  “I’m not sure this is going to be fun.”

  “Come on, I’ll show you a good time, I swear.”

  “You have no clue how many guys I’ve heard that from over the years.”

  “Guys like me?” I came around the counter and walked toward her.

  “Guys just like you. Guys that wanted to suck up to my dad.”

  “He’s a big boss out there, yeah?”

  She nodded. “Yeah. And I hate it.”

  “Well, you’re in luck, because I don’t give a shit who your dad is, and I don’t give a damn about the mob.”

  “You’re working for them.”

  I shook my head. “I’m taking their money and babysitting a pissed-off brat.”

  “I’m not a brat,” she snapped, then sucked in a breath. She gave me an annoyed look, but she’d softened a little bit, I could already tell.

  “Come on. I’ll buy you a few drinks. You can ignore me the whole time, if you want.”

  “Fine,” she said. “Nothing better to do.”

  “You’re a peach. Go get changed, put on something pretty.”

  She laughed. “Only if you do too.”

  “Gladly.” I turned and walked toward the stairs.

  “Hey, wait, are you serious?”

  “I’m serious,” I said, and started climbing up. “Get dressed for me, princess.”

  I heard her call me an asshole, but there was no bite behind it, and I smiled the whole way up.

  Fortunately, I’d brought a few suits with me. I didn’t own many nice clothes, never had a need for it, but every man has to have at least one or two suits. I got mine from a friend of a friend, a guy that really knew his shit, and also stole them from a more expensive boutique place. I got dressed and headed downstairs. I poured a drink and finished it off as I waited, and felt a strange jump of excitement in my chest when I heard her come down the stairs.

  She turned around the corner and I swear my breath caught in my throat. I always heard of that happening in TV and in books, but I never really understood what the hell it meant until that moment. I felt it right there in my throat and my chest, and I couldn’t breathe for a second as she stopped in the hallway and smiled a little bit, her cheeks turning slightly pink, a confused smile on her lips.

  “What?” she asked.

  “You look fucking gorgeous.”

  She laughed and shook her head. “You’re being an asshole again.”

  “No, I’m really not.” I stepped toward her. “You look incredible.”

  And she really did: the dress was short, showing off her lean legs, and the perfect shade of blue to make her eyes shine like spotlights. She had her hair down and back, and held a little clutch in her hand.

  “You look okay yourself.” Her smile didn’t falter, and I met her gaze for a few beats. I was tempted to make her stay home with me and see who could get undressed the fastest, but I figured she’d win that one, since I’d rip her damn clothes off her body in two seconds flat, and there was no sense in ruining a nice dress like that.

  “Come on then.” I offered her my arm. “Let’s go see the local establishments.”

  She slipped her hand through my arm and I expected her to make some comments about me being an asshole, but instead she smiled and let me lead her outside and down the steps.

  The night was crisp and comfortable, and we walked through a quiet suburban neighborhood. “Hard to imagine a mob boss keeps his wife around here,” I said.

  “I bet the neighbors would flip.”

  “Probably show up with pitchforks, like in Frankenstein.”

  “Can you blame them? Mona’s such a monster.”

  I laughed and we walked along until we came to a wider avenue. We headed up a short hill, following the main flow of cars, and the houses began to get more spread out, until they disappeared entirely, replaced by a cute little downtown area.

  The suburbanites were out in force. Lots of boomers in fancy outfits, a few packs of teenagers, little kids running from bench to bench. I found a halfway decent spot called Parlor Twelve and held the door open for her.

  We sat at the bar toward the far side, with our backs to the wall, and a good view of the door. I didn’t plan on practicing good defense, but shit, might as well anyway. The place was an upscale gastropub sort of thing, with lots of metal and repurposed wood, the lightbulbs giving off that warm orange old-timey glow. The bartender was overworked, covered in tattoos, and seemed like he couldn’t have been bothered to serve us, which seemed about right. She asked for wine, I asked for whiskey, and held it up when the bartender banged the drinks down in front of us without making eye contact.

  “To our night out,” I said.

  She smiled, met my toast, and sipped her drink. “This place isn’t so bad.”

  “You got a lot of spots like this back home?”

  She shook her head. “I didn’t come to fancy places like this. I’m more of a dive bar girl myself.”

  “Funny, I’m the same way. South Philly is filled with little holes in the wall, bars that have been there for generations. Some real cheap, trashy places, but you can get good and drunk and see the boys from the neighborhood there, so it’s not so bad.”

  “Philly’s a weird place. It seems so small, you know?”

  “It’s old. Not built in an ideal spot. Didn’t sprawl out like the newer cities. Chicago’s kind of that way too.”

  “I guess that’s true. I like it though. It’s got character.”

  “That’s what I think. Philly’s got everything you could want, and it’s cheaper than most other cities, plus it’s a lot smaller, so you can get around way easier.”

  “If you’re trying to get me to move here permanently, I think I’m sold.”

  I laughed. “I’m not sure you’d want that. I bet Vincent would make me your full-time bodyguard.”

  She rolled her eyes, but she was smiling and drinking, and that was my goal.

  I asked her more about her life, and was careful not to mention the scars, since I’d quickly figured out that they were a dangerous topic. She talked about her dad, growing up in a mob family with all those mob guys around, about going to school and getting her own job, all that good stuff.

  “I was independent for a second,” she said, staring at her wine. “But then the accident happened and I came out here.”

  I couldn’t help myself. “The accident?”

  Her eyes flashed up to mine then back down. “Not important.” Her jaw clenched, and I knew I’d said the wrong thing. Fucking hell. “You know, all you mob guys are the same. All you care about is making money, and it doesn’t matter if it hurts someone.”

  “I’m not mob,” I said softly.

  “Yeah, so you’re different then, right?”

  I shrugged. “I think so.”

  “The first time I saw you, you had blood dripping off your knuckles and you looked like you got in a fight.”

  I waved my drink in the air. “Not my normal thing. That was a special job for Vincent.”

  “Then you’re just like them. You’ve got a price.” She glared at the bar top and I watched her, trying to figure out where all this anger was coming from. I could make some guesses: father in the business, surrounded by made men, probably had a lot of shit thrown her way.

  I wasn’t mad at her for feeling the way she did. Hell, I understood it.

  “I’ve got a price, but it’s not what you think,” I said, voice soft so she had to lean in to hear me. “I’m doing this work for Vince because he’s the big guy in town. I want to be left the hell alone by the Leone family, so I figure, I say yes to this stuff, do them some favors, make some money, and hopefully they’ll forget about me. I’d like to be forgettable.”

  She gave me an odd look. “I find that hard to believe.”

  I shrugged, drank my whiskey. “I didn’t get into this business to get famous, famous thieves go to jail or end up dead.”

  “That’s what you are? A thief?”

 
“That’s my main job.”

  “I doubt the benefits are good.”

  I leaned closer with a smile. “You’d be surprised, princess.”

  She glared at me. “Stop calling me that.”

  I shrugged and pressed my shoulders against hers. She didn’t pull away, and we sat there, close to each other for a long moment before I had an idea.

  “How about I show you what I do?” I said.

  “What, are you going to rob the place? Please, don’t.”

  “No, but I’ll pickpocket someone.”

  She laughed. “Seriously?”

  “Seriously. I’ll give back whatever I take. You ever see it before?”

  “No, and I don’t want to.”

  I slid off my stool. “It’s all about misdirection. Sort of like magic that way, you know? You make them look at something, so they don’t feel it when you grab their wallet.”

  “Ren,” she said, eyes wide.

  But I was already walking away. I had my mark spotted and lined up. I couldn’t help myself— it was automatic for me these days. Whenever I went into a crowded place, I was always sizing the talent up, trying to find at least one or two big fish in the place, guys that were too drunk, or too loud, or too whatever to notice me stealing from them. It was always a gamble, and I’d been caught once or twice, but it was a goddamn rush. I didn’t pickpocket for the money, although a couple times I came up with some solid cash.

  No, I did it because it felt damn good, and I got the sense Amber would think so too.

  I walked along the bar toward a large man up near the door. He was on the way to the restrooms, so I had a good excuse to pass him. I exaggerated my sway, just a little bit, making myself look drunker than I was. The guy had a goatee, a double chin, and a tiny sprout of hair at the top of his head. I noticed the Rolex first, then the way he leaned toward a much younger, much prettier girl and grinned at her with a creepy hunger in his eyes, and I’d watched him down three drinks since I’d started my first. He was rich, he was trying to impress a girl, and he was drunk, which made him ideal.

  It wasn’t a complicated maneuver. Amber stared at me, wild and ready to get up and chase me down, so I hurried a little bit. I turned the corner toward the restrooms and bumped into the guy, grunting as I did it loudly. My hand slipped into the pocket of the jacket he had hung on his chair— found nothing.

  “Shit, sorry,” I grunted, and slipped my hand into his pants pocket. It was tricky, but they were loose jeans, and he was having trouble swiveling toward me.

  “What the hell,” he said. “Hey, man, come on.”

  Pay dirt. I found his wallet, pulled it out, and slipped it into my own pocket, faster than anyone would notice. I held up my hands and backed off. “Sorry, pal, sorry about that.” I slurred a bit, selling it.

  He gave me a disgusted look, and for one second, I thought he might decide to be a big man and step up in front of his date—but he shook his head.

  “Be careful. You okay?”

  “I’m good. You good?”

  “I’m fine. Have a nice night.” He turned away and I heard him already talking to that girl, explaining how he could’ve taken a guy like me, but didn’t need to start a scene to be a man.

  I went to the bathroom, grinning the whole time, then came back out a minute later and rejoined Amber.

  “You’re insane,” she said.

  I shrugged. “I guess.”

  “Seriously. What was that?”

  I put the wallet on the bar top. It was dark leather, stained from years of use. “That’s what it was.”

  She stared then snatched it away and held it down in her lap. She went through it, sucking air through her teeth. “There’s like a few hundred dollars in here.”

  “I know. Guy’s got a Rolex on. I was tempted.”

  She glared at me and shoved the wallet into my hands. “Give it back.”

  “Aw, come on, let’s at least take some money.”

  “Ren.”

  “Fine.” I ginned at her and leaned up against the bar. “In a few minutes. Tell me you don’t think that’s impressive.”

  She let out a frustrated sigh, but she smiled. “It was a little fun to watch. Okay? You happy?”

  “Very,” I said, grinning. “See, you don’t hate guys like me. You just hate assholes.”

  “Which is what you are.”

  “Incorrect. I’m a delightful thief.”

  “That moonlights as a thug.”

  “And a bodyguard, but yeah, I got your meaning.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Come on. Give the wallet back and let’s eat something.”

  “How about this. I give the wallet back, and you promise to tell me more about yourself.”

  She gave me an odd look then, and I knew I had her—mostly because I really did want to learn more. It wasn’t just some play for her, wasn’t some game.

  I was interested. I was hungry.

  “Fine,” she said. “Now go. Be good.”

  “Always am.”

  Giving it back was easy. I walked past the guy, then stooped over and acted like I’d found it on the floor. He gave me an incredulous look, then had the gall to check all his money right in front of me. I plastered a smile on my face and leaned in as he did it.

  “Don’t worry, it’s all there. Pretty bad manners, counting that baby stack in front of me, huh?” I winked at his girl then left before the asshole could say something.

  I sat back down, asked for menus, then looked at Amber. She looked right back and let out a long, put-upon sigh.

  “All right,” she said, spreading out her hands. “You got me now. What do you want to know?”

  “Let’s start with your earliest memory, and we’ll go from there.”

  “Ren—”

  “You can tell me about your first period, maybe you first boyfriend—hey, are you still a virgin? You know what, don’t answer, I’ll find that one out myself.”

  She sighed, squeezed her eyes shut, then laughed as the bartender dropped menus in front of us and stalked off to help someone out.

  I spend the rest of the night asking her questions about herself, and finding that I wasn’t getting bored. It was rare to find someone that held my attention like that, even though she pretended like she hated me. I could tell she liked it though, liked my jokes, my attention.

  I made her laugh a lot, and although she had a thing about guys in my line of work, I had a feeling she’d be begging to get to know me better soon enough.

  4

  Amber

  After that very strange, but surprisingly good night out at the bar, I did my best to hide from him for the next couple days.

  When we were sitting at the bar, our legs touching slightly, I felt it: that tingle down my spine, that buzz on my lips. We ate, he asked about me, made me laugh, and toward the end of the night, our fingers touched as we reached for the check, and I stared into his eyes, and I knew in that moment that if he’d kissed me, right then and there at the bar, I would’ve kissed him back.

  We walked back together, said goodnight, and I’ve been hiding from him ever since.

  I should hate him. I don’t understand what the heck would attract me to a guy like that. He robbed a man in front of me for fun. I hated that sort of thing, hated men that bragged about crime and thought it was exciting, hated that sort of macho arrogant crap most of all, and yet somehow, he was different. He didn’t seem to take himself too seriously, and he made jokes all the time, and of course it didn’t hurt that he was handsome as all hell.

  But I’d sworn off men like him. Ever since the accident, I couldn’t handle it, couldn’t risk it.

  I wanted to go home, but even home seemed fraught and broken. There was nowhere for me, nowhere at all, except for maybe this small bedroom. Maybe I could hide in here forever and never come out.

  That didn’t happen though. Mona came home on Monday, and I found her sitting on the back porch reading a paperback that afternoon. Ren was nowhere to be seen,
so I took the opportunity to sit out with her, knees curled up beneath me. The back yard was a veritable garden, and butterflies flitted between the flowers.

  “How’s it going?” Mona asked. “Everything okay so far?”

  “Great,” I said. “Janine’s been really sweet and helpful.”

  “Oh, good, I’m glad. I knew you’d like her. Everyone does, really.”

  “How was the city?”

  She waved a hand. “Oh, you know. Vincent’s always so on edge and he’s constantly telling me to stay out of town for a while.”

  “That must be hard,” I said, trying to keep my voice even.

  She laughed. “It’s not, not really. Things are bad right now, so it’s harder than normal, but this is the first time he’s ever really made me stay out here. Normally I stay with him in the city, and come out here on weekends to work on my book or whatever I’m writing at the time.”

  I chewed on my lip for a second. “How do you deal with it? The whole— you know, the business.”

  “You mean, how do I handle being married to a mob boss?”

  I winced. “Yeah, I guess so.”

  “It’s not easy sometimes,” she said softly. “He makes it a lot easier. I don’t know how to explain it, but we love each other. I know he’d do anything for me, and I’d do anything for him. When we’re together, it’s like lightning on the sand, everything’s hot and sparkling and we leave glass in our wake. But there are hard times too, when things get violent.”

  “My father was barely ever around. Basically left my mom to raise me on my own, and then when she died, he only halfway stepped up.”

  “How did she pass?”

  “Cancer.” I shrugged a little. “It wasn’t great. I was ten so I remember most of it.”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  “It was a while ago. Dad took it hard though, and he sort of pulled away from me. He wanted to protect me, but at the same time, wanted to expose me to the life, you know? So he was constantly bringing guys around, then making sure I never spent any time with anyone remotely connected. It was hard, growing up.”