Starting Over (Starting Over 1

by Kathy O'Rourke

  Looking the shelves over, I grab jars of pizza sauce and a large box of Velveeta cheese. “I know it’s not mozzarella, but it’s still cheese.”

  Tim makes a face that reminds me of Michael when I gave him cough medicine. “Blah! Imitation and full of preservatives.” He sticks his tongue out. “What’s are you going to make with that?”

  “Pizza in the outside oven.”

  “With Velveeta?” He grimaces.

  “Yeah, it’ll work.” I shake my finger at him. “Don’t knock it, Mr. Gourmet chef, the guys will love it.”

  Standing, he grabs a couple cans of mushrooms then picks two large onions out of the basket in the corner and drops everything on the counter next to the pizza sauce. “Toppings.”

  “What about meat? I can’t imagine Adam or Marco eating a no-meat pizza.” I joke as I scan the shelves.

  “Them, Vegetarians? Never.”

  We both giggle.

  Tim grabs a dried salami off the top shelf. “How about this?”

  “Perfect.”

  It’s close to four o’clock when Fat Boy and Hank, arrive home from their run. I watch from the kitchen window as they stop and talk to Tim who is prepping the pizza oven. I wish I could read lips, but from the way they’re standing and looking around, I’m sure they’re discussing an escape plan. Within minutes, Hank comes in the kitchen door with a big smile on his face, grabs my hand and pulls me into the pantry.

  His touch sends heat right up my arm. God, I’ve missed him. “What are you doing?”

  He chuckles and whispers, “Don’t worry. Tim and Fat Boy are keeping watch and none of the others are back yet.” He pushes me up against the counter and wraps his arms around me, growls and presses his body against mine. “I miss you so damn much.”

  I pull his face closer. “Shut up and kiss me. Please.”

  And he does. One long, panty-wetting kiss. He whispers against my lips. “As much as I’d like to strip you naked right here now, we really need to talk.”

  I whine as he pulls away, but he’s right. “I know, but I miss being with you.”

  He runs his hands down my back and cups my butt. “Soon, we’ll be together again, I promise. And we’ll make up for lost time.”

  Male laughter has us both looking over at the door. Tim and Fat Boy are sitting on the outside steps exchanging stories.

  I whisper, “Tim wants out too. He’s gonna help us.”

  “I know. He told me outside. Fat Boy and Eddie are in on it, too.”

  “Good, we can use the help.” I run my hands through his hair. “Hank, how are the kids? I’ve been worried about them.”

  He pushes my bangs out of my eyes. “Everyone’s fine. They’re at Mala’s house.”

  My body jerks and grows stiff at that piece of news. What about my house? My garden?

  As reading my thoughts, Hank explains, “I’m sorry, Shelley, your house is compromised. It’s not safe there anymore.”

  All I can answer is, “I know.”

  He kisses my ear. “Baby, I know you love your house but it’s just a place. What counts is people. The kids. Leo. Gus. Mala. Your new friend Tim. Eddie, Fat Boy.” I kiss her forehead and add, “You and Me. Family.”

  He’s right of course. Material things can be replaced but it still hurts like hell. I tell myself to suck it up and move on. “You’re right.” Kissing him on the cheek, I ask “Now, tell me about the kids.”

  He chuckles against the side of my face and it tickles. “Cindy doesn’t understand where we are. They told her we were on a trip and would be back soon. Michael is being very grown up and helping with the packing plans.”

  “Packing?”

  “Yeah. We need to leave LA, it’s too dangerous here. Leo is planning the whole thing.”

  My heart hurts at leaving Los Angeles but Leo’s right. The city is a stupid place to try to make a new start. “Hurts to say this, but it is for the best.”

  “Yeah, it is.” He takes a baggie full of a green and blue powder out of his pack and puts it on the work station. “Crushed up Rohypnol, street name: roofies.”

  My hands shake as I examine the bag. “The date rape drug?”

  “Yeah, I want you to put it in tonight’s beer and serve it to everyone. It will knock the bastards out for hours.”

  I smirk and add, “I guess I shouldn’t drug Tim, Eddie, Fat Boy or you.”

  He smacks my butt. “Smartass. Of course, not us, or you either.”

  “We’re escaping tonight?”

  “Yeah.” He kisses me again. “You do want to come home with me, right?”

  I smack his arm. “Of course, I do. I love you and miss our family.”

  He pulls me tight into his arms, “That’s the first time you told me you love me.”

  I feel my face tint pink as doubt runs through my mind. Can he love me after what I’ve had to do with Marco? Unable to look him in the eye, I turn away. “I just hope…”

  Hank growls, grabs my chin and pulls my face up so I’m peering into his eyes. “I know what you’ re thinking and there is nothing you could do or say that would stop me from loving you. You’re mine.”

  “But Marco?”

  “You did what you had to. End of story.” He reaches in his pocket and hands me a folded-up piece of paper. “Read it.”

  “Two plus one equals us.” I work hard to hold back my tears. “Us?”

  “Yeah, Us. I don’t believe we met by accident. I believe we were meant to find each other. You’re mine.”

  I’m his. And he’s mine. Tears creep into my eyes. “I believe you.”

  We’re interrupted by a honking car horn. Someone else is home from their run. I whisper again, “Tonight?”

  He nods. “Make sure to put a whole bunch of that,” he points at the baggie, “in each bottle of beer.”

  He kisses my cheek. “Gotta go. See you later.” He winks as he walks out the door.

  I slip his note into my pocket.

  Several minutes later, Hank and Fat Boy carry in six cases of Guinness Extra Stout beer in bottles. Fat Boy whispers, “We brought dark beer to hide any coloring from the drug. Open them in the kitchen and pour the drug in. It has no taste and will dissolve instantly. Serve the bottles opened.”

  I nod. “I can do that.”

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Hank

  The roar of a big engine breaks the silence. Damn, I thought we were supposed to drive the quiet cars today? I rush through the kitchen and down the steps into the backyard in time to see Thomas’s black monster pull to a stop. I should have known it was him; he needs a big car to hold his huge ego. I join Tim who is stuffing the pizza oven with wood and mumble under my breath, “God, he’s an ass.”

  “That’s the truth.” Tim answers then adds a snicker, “A big car to make up for his tiny dick.”

  We both have a good belly laugh as we watch Eddie and Thomas open the monster’s trunk and start removing bags.

  “I need to tell Eddie about our plans. Can you run a diversion with Thomas?”

  Tim gives off a heavy sigh, “I’ll try, but he hates me. It may not work.”

  “Just try, please.”

  He nods and heads toward the parked cars, calling out, “Hey Thomas, what did you get? Anything good?”

  Being the boastful ass that he is, Thomas answers, “I got great stuff. Come see.”

  As Thomas shows off to Tim, I wave at Eddie and signal I need to talk to him.

  Eddie hands Tim his bag. “Here, Thomas can show you everything. I’m gonna go have a cigarette.”

  At that, Eddie and I head for the pool area.

  Acting casual, we take a seat at the table and light up. Neither of us talk for a minute making sure Thomas or Matt, who is now out by the cars, stay where they are.

  Marco’s silver Mercedes pulls in the driveway with Adam in the passenger seat. “I wonder where they went today?” Then I smirk and share my thought with Eddie. “It really doesn’t matter anyway, it ends tonight.”

>   “Tonight? We’re leaving tonight?” Eddie whispers.

  “Yeah.”

  I watch Marco walk toward the house holding a blue plastic bag. He yells out, “Where’s my Princesa?”

  I dig my fingernails into my palms as the bastard kisses my woman. I remind myself, after tonight, he’ll never touch her again.

  Thankfully, Eddie and I remain alone, Thomas and Matt are busy kissing Adam’s ass. I whisper, “Yeah, we’re going tonight. The five of us; you, me, Shelley, Tim and Doug.”

  With his eyebrows raised, he asks, “Who the hell is Doug?”

  “That’s Fat Boy’s real name.”

  “I always wondered what his real name was.” He looks over his shoulder at the kitchen. “Shelley and Tim are coming too?”

  “Yeah.” Not taking time to relay the whole story, I give him a shortened version. Expecting him to be excited, it surprises me when he’s not, instead, his face is lined with worry. “You change your mind? You want to stay here?”

  “Hell no. I want out, but…” he looks down at the ground, “I hate being alone. Even when I was a kid, I had to have people around. I just hope I can find a group of good people who’ll let me join them.”

  I punch him in the arm. “Don’t worry, we’re gonna stick together. You can join my group.”

  His face lightens, and a smile reappears. “Group? You have people out there?”

  “Yeah. Good ones.”

  He puts his cigarette out and stands. “I’m one hundred percent in. Anything you need.”

  “Good.” I blow out a stream of smoke. “Carry a concealed weapon to dinner and sit at the far end of the table, away from Marco.”

  I walk back through the kitchen on my way to my room. Shelley’s not there of course, but Tim is. I ask under my breath, “She with him?”

  Tim gives me a nod.

  I whisper under my breath, “Marco dies tonight.”

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Shelley

  I just finished whispering tonight’s plan to Tim when I hear, “Where’s my Princesa?”

  Wiping flour off my hands, I step to the kitchen door, paste a smile on my face, and wave. “I’m right where you left me, Papi. The kitchen.”

  He gets to me in two strides. “Princesa, I missed you today,” and places a soft kiss on my cheek.

  Hank is by the pool watching our every move. Damn, I hate when he sees Marco touching me. I turn and walk inside, away from Hank’s eyes. “I missed you, too, Papi.” Turning around, I add a staged giggle. “Guess what? Tim and I are making pizza for dinner.”

  “Pizza? In the outside oven?”

  “Yeah. I’m making the dough now.” I point at the cloth covered bowls. “The dough is rising as we speak.”

  Sliding his arms around my waist, he pulls me against his body and plants a kiss behind my ear. “My girl is something else. I love pizza. Thank you.” He breaks the hug and grabs my hand. “Come.”

  Knowing I can’t get out of it, I play my only card. “Papi, I only have an hour. I need to be down here to finish making the pizza.”

  Laughing, he pulls me toward the stairs, “Well, then we better hurry.”

  The plastic bag in his other hand rustles against his leg. Curiosity has me asking, “What’s in the bag?”

  “I’ll show you later.” His grip tightens on my hand as he whispers almost in a growl, “Right now, Papi needs his Princesa naked and under him.”

  As soon as we enter his room, he locks the door and gives me an order. “Strip, Princesa, I need to see every inch of you.”

  As I undress, the reality that this is our last time together sinks in. His streak will end at twenty-eight. Once nude, I turn and face him holding my hands over my mound.

  He’s sitting in the winged back chair in the corner, his eyes dark with need. “You are beautiful, from your head to your toes. I’m a lucky man.”

  My face heats up at his compliment.

  “Now, crawl to me, Princesa.”

  Dropping down to all fours, I approach slowly moving like a sensual cat. I purr up at him, “Here I am, Papi.”

  It happens quick, right there in the chair. He never even undressed, just opened his pants. It’s probably better that number twenty-eight wasn’t epic; it will make it easier to forget.

  He points at the bag he left on the dresser. “That’s for you, Princesa.”

  “For me?”

  He laughs, “What other woman am I going to spoil?”

  Inside the bag is a pair of expensive jeans and a beautiful aqua blue cashmere sweater along with a matching thong and bra set in the same color.

  “Thank you, Papi. I love the color.”

  “Wear it tonight for me, please. I want to show you off to my men.”

  I plant a kiss on his cheek. “Of course, I’ll wear them tonight.”

  He waves me off. “Go, my sweet Princesa. I know you have work to do.”

  In the bathroom, I scrub all remembrances of him off my body.

  The jeans fit perfectly. Magically, they’re even the right length. The V-neck sweater hugs my curves and feels amazing against my skin. It’s even a good color for me.

  As I comb my hair, my stomach tightens and it’s hard to swallow. I stare in the mirror, confused at my crazy mixed feelings. I should hate Marco, but I don’t. Maybe it’s because he’s been nothing but kind to me since I arrived. He’s kept me safe and spoiled me rotten. But, he stole me from Hank and kept me away from my family. Why don’t I hate him? I fight back the tears forming in my eyes. What’s wrong with me? Am I suffering from Stockholm syndrome? All I know is I’m going to miss the private, loving Marco. I won’t, however, miss the gang leader part of him.

  He’s asleep in the chair when I exit the bathroom. Tiptoeing, I move to him and lightly run my fingers down his hair. I whisper, “Thank you for everything,” and head to the kitchen.

  Tim gives me a quick once over. “New clothes?”

  “Presents from Marco.” I put on my full-length apron and grab the bowls of dough. “Everything okay down here?”

  “Yeah, the oven is hot enough to bake in now. I’m just keeping it hot enough.”

  He points at the bar-sized fridge on the counter. “I cranked that baby up to high, so the beer will be extra cold.”

  Thomas saunters in from the living room. “Is it true we’re having pizza for dinner?”

  I stick a smile on my face. “Yeah, it’s true. Can you spread the word I expect everyone at the table in an hour?”

  “Sure, will.” He rubs his fat stomach. “God, I love pizza. Never thought I’d have it again. I’ll tell the guys.”

  “Thanks.”

  Adam walks in the back door, his arms loaded down with Macy’s bags. He looks me up and down. “I see your new clothes fit.”

  “Yeah, perfectly. Thanks.” I point at his bags. “You buy new clothes?”

  He nods, “Needed them. Everything I own is dirty.” He then gives me another smile.

  This is the first time he’s ever even attempted to be nice to me. I work a piece of dough into a circle. “I sure hope you like pizza.”

  He rolls his eyes and growls like a hungry bear. “I love pizza.”

  “Good. Ben and Fat Boy brought beer to have with it, too.”

  Another smile. He’s good looking when he’s not in Hulk mode. “Beer and pizza. Can’t wait.”

  The hour passes quickly, and the men are ready to eat in the dining room. I hear them laughing and talking through the doorway. Marco sticks his head in the kitchen. “Pizza ready? The guys say they’re starving in here.”

  Tim answers, “Yeah, we’ll bring it in now.”

  As soon as we’re alone, I call Tim to my side. “We’ll serve the pizza family style in the middle of the table and then bring the beers in a few at a time. Ben, Fat Boy and Eddie will be sitting together, we’ll serve them last.”

  “Got it.”

  We made six huge pizzas and they turned out great. Granted, they would have been better with
mozzarella cheese, but the Velveeta looks and tastes just fine. Tim and I pre-slice each pie and load the slices on two large serving trays.

  I look over at Tim. “You ready?”

  He nods, his face a bit pale. “Nervous about the drugs, but yeah, I’m ready.”

  “We got this, Tim. Just think about our freedom.”

  We each pick up a large tray and whisper, at each other, “Freedom.”

  The guys cheer when they see the pizza.

  Matt claps. “God, I love pizza.”

  “It’s my favorite food.” Adam laughs as he grabs two slices. Yes, he laughed; Mr. Grimm’s face actually cracked.

  As I walk pass Marco he grabs me by the waist and pulls me into his side. “Princesa, you’re amazing. Look how happy you made my men.”

  Kissing his cheek, I tell him my final lie. “Anything for you, Papi.”

  It’s time to serve the beer.

  Tim takes cold beers from the fridge, one for each of Marco’s loyal troops, and pops the tops off. I grab three more, one for Eddie, Fat Boy and Hank and put them to the side.

  I pull a funnel from the utensil drawer, it slips out of my fingers and rolls across the floor.

  “You okay?” Tim murmurs as he picks it up.

  “Nerves are getting to me. But I’ll be fine.” I wipe my fingers down the face of my apron to ensure I don’t drop it again.

  “You got this, Shell.”

  “Keep a watch out, please.” At that, he moves to the end of the island and stands in such a way my actions can’t been seen from the dining room.

  I grab the bag of roofie powder from its hiding place and get to work. Using the funnel, I slide the bluish powdered drug into each beer then lightly swirl each bottle.

  “They’re ready.”

  We deliver them to the men. I hand Marco his. “Here, Papi, a nice cold beer. It’s the expensive imported kind.”

  With his mouth full of pizza, Marco just nods and throws me a kiss.

  I rush back to the kitchen, and walk the untainted beers out to Hank and our friends.

  Now we wait. Per Fat Boy, it should take no more than an hour.

  Chapter Thirty-Nine