The Arrangement 20 (The Ferro Family)

by H. M. Ward

  Meanwhile, as I try to wrap my brain around that, I think about Black’s empty promises. I wonder what she’s set up and what would have happened if I’d said yes. Power, money, and everything I could possibly want--if I’d only do this one last thing? She was pushing me so hard to become a madam, but then what? What actually would have been the next step for me?

  That's the trap. It’s the way Black makes me feel empowered. She planted ideas in my head and I thought I could handle it. I wanted to handle it, but Sean made me back away. I wonder if he knew he was saving me. I wonder if he knew, in the end, he’d die because of me.

  It’s my fault his life ended violently.

  It’s my fault he never found peace.

  NO.

  I push harder, running ahead without waiting for Mel. I hear her gasping behind me.

  “Fuck me sideways, Avery! It’s uphill and 5 a.m. This bitch is gonna die. Slow the fuck down!”

  But I don’t. I push harder, faster, taking longer strides. My feet pound the pavement and it feels good. I want to hurt; I want the pain. It’s the only way I can tell I’m still alive.

  I stop short, horrified. Mel crashes into me and then collapses spread-eagle on the well-manicured lawn to my right. We’re running in a subdivision that disguises the hell these people live through day in and day out. The pretty grass hides their dead souls, trapped in the constant craze of wanting more--of needing whatever’s next.

  I don’t need anything. Except Sean.

  And I thought he was messed up.

  Without him, I’m doing the same thing--hurting myself to feel something. I’m walking the tightrope and know it’s only a matter of time until I fall. I welcome the rush and crash of pain at the bottom. Bending at the waist, I grip my knees and try to catch my breath. I don’t let Mel know what I was thinking.

  “Get up,” I huff, trying to straighten. A cramp pulls me back down, breathing like an overweight porn star.

  Sucking. Air. Gonna. Pass. Out.

  “I’m gonna roll over and rip up this guy's grass. Make it a blanket and go to sleep. It’s so nice and cool under my gluteus maximus.”

  “You’re such a dork,” I say, laughing. “Say it like you mean it.”

  “The grass feels good on my ass!” Mel laughs and starts coughing.

  “You should make that a thing and sell Sexy Sod on QVC. Only three easy payments of $19.95 and you, too, could have a sexy grassy ass.”

  “De nada.”

  Her sudden Spanish makes me laugh harder. The stitch in my side grows as I scold her. “I didn’t say gracias! I said grassy ass! You giant dork!”

  “You still laughed.” Her smile fades as she stares at the early morning sky. “Did you ever think your life would come to this? I knew I was in for some messed up shit, but now I’m an informant to a fucking FBI agent.”

  I straighten and push my sweaty hair out of my face. “Yeah, every little girl dreams of being sucked into the sex industry when she’s five. It’s what we all strive for.”

  “I knew I’d have a rough life,” Mel continues without laughing. “You can’t torch your demons and, where I come from, demons never die. They’re always there, trying to pull you back. I refuse to go back to that. That’s my vice; that’s my downfall.”

  We stay still and silent in the grass, watching the cars as they travel up and down the street. I notice a white van turn the corner and my stomach dips. It feels suspicious. Mel ignores it.

  “It doesn’t have to be. You choose what you do and who you’ll be. Your past shapes you, but it can’t hold you unless you let it.”

  Mel snorts. “So says the girl trying to induce a heart attack during a jog.”

  “Loss is different. It opens a hole into the soul letting anything rush in or out. Darkness and light collide together and life turns gray; grief isn’t clearly defined.”

  “I know,” Mel says carefully. “That’s why I hope you’ll forgive me.”

  Fuck. I dart upright and see the van parked a few doors down, idling. My eyes cut over to her.

  “What’d you do?” I’m ready to run, but when I glance the other way, there’s another car parked at the side of the street, waiting. “Mel. What’d you do?”

  “Surviving justifies anything.” Mel sits up and looks squarely into my eyes. “I just hope I did the right thing. Either way, it’s too late to go back now.”

  Shit. I take off at a full run, wishing I hadn’t pushed myself so hard. The van doors open and a few guys jump out the back. They’re wearing polo shirts and khaki pants. What the fuck? I feel like the nerd crew from a techie store is chasing me. Glancing over my shoulder, I can see they’re gaining. Their freaky-long limbs give them a huge advantage.

  “Please,” a speedy geek calls out to me, “wait a second!” He gasps and yells, “Miss Smith, please wait!”

  At that name, every broken piece of my heart falls to the ground. My body freezes and my feet won’t move. I’m standing in the middle of a tree-lined suburban street, gasping, too afraid to turn around. The one guy is close to me, but he doesn’t come closer.

  “Miss Smith, if you--”

  “Don’t,” I snap. It’s one word, a clear warning.

  I’m going to lose it. No one calls me that--no one except Sean. The name does something to me. I can feel my sanity slip away and melt into hysteria. Sean is gone. These people are hoping to trap me with sweet pet names they overheard.

  My fingers tap my hips anxiously, and I suck in the morning air, letting it fill my lungs. I feel a piece of me, something inside my brain--the part that holds back the crazy impulses--straining under the massive pressure. It’s like a floodgate ready to burst. It can’t hold the tidal wave of crazy back anymore.

  I swear to God that I can hear it straining, creaking and cracking under the pressure.

  “I’m sorry that I had to call you that, but you wouldn’t have stopped otherwise.” His voice is deep, sincere, and slightly winded.

  CREAK.

  “Go away. Leave me alone.” I refuse to turn. Something is back there. They know something and I’m not going to make it through this. Whatever is in that van, I don’t want to see it. Mel was muttering about choosing the right thing. I wonder if she knows how close I am to having a mental break down.

  “I can’t. I’m sorry, but I need you to come with me.” He reaches his hand out toward me.

  I stiffen and add another step between us. He drops back to his former position.

  My stomach is in knots, twisting and turning, anticipating the horror that’s to come. If Sean’s body is in there, if I have to see his dead body…

  CRACK.

  I visibly shiver, but I’m not cold. It feels like someone walked over my grave. It’s the bone-chilling sensation that accompanies dread. It’s flowing through me, freezing me from the inside out. My hands dart instinctively up to rub warmth back into my arms, but it doesn’t help.

  “There’s no way in Hell I’m going with you.” My voice is deeper this time, my eyes narrowed to slits, and I glance nervously over my shoulder. “Turn around and walk away.”

  The guy is young, possibly younger than me. That’s weird. He doesn’t look like the thug type. The guy next to him--a blonde with a goatee--reaches into his pocket. I round on them suddenly thinking he has a gun.

  Goatee guy pulls a red piece of plastic from his pocket, shakes it, and pulls the cap off before sticking it in his mouth. He inhales sheepishly, takes the inhaler away from his lips, and smiles at me.

  Asthmatic thugs. What the hell?

  “Avery, please walk back with me. I’ll tell the van to stay there.” The leader resumes his negotiation.

  “No way,” I say, shaking my head and taking another step backward. “I won't willingly jump into the back of a windowless van. If Vic wants to talk to me, tell him to come over here.” It has to be him. Or Black. It has to be someone Mel doesn’t want to work with for her to say those things.

  I glance around, looking for the traitor. She’
s gone. People suck.

  The guys are glancing at each other. It seems like they don’t know what to say. Goatee Guy steps toward me. I step back. He takes another baby step, speaking in a soothing voice.

  “The thing is, it’s not safe outside for either of you. If you’d come closer, you could see.”

  “Yeah right,” I say with a bitter laugh. “I’m sure the inside of your kidnap mobile is filled with puppies, right? And candy? No, thank you. Keep driving, pervs.”

  “Do we look like henchmen?” Goatee Guy rolls his eyes and gestures to his companions. “Do you seriously think we’re used to chasing strange women down the street and trying to get them into a van? We suck at it! This is our only attempt at this and you’re not listening!” The guy seems ready to stomp his foot.

  He lets out a sigh and pinches the bridge of his nose as he gestures with his other hand for his companions to flank me. They do, but by now I’m confident I could easily outrun them all.

  “You’re insane. Go get in your van and drive off a bridge. Leave me alone!” I’m yelling and stepping backward. I’m too loud. People are going to look.

  Everyone realizes I’m going to take off at the same time. I whirl around and launch my body forward, and slam into a hard chest. One of the guys snuck up behind me. He wraps his arms around me, squeezing tight, but it’s not a restraint--it’s more of a hug. He buries his face in my hair and whispers in my ear.

  “We have unfinished business, Miss Smith. Why do you always have to be such a pain in the ass?”

  I pull back enough to see his face, but I already know who is holding me.

  “Sean.”

  CHAPTER 7

  I lose it. Melting into his chest, I feel my knees buckle as my eyes overflow with tears.

  “You... You’re... I saw Vic shoot you.”

  Sean towers over me, holding me tight. He kisses my head several times, softly, carefully.

  “He did. It grazed my side. He had other plans for me, but things didn’t go well that day. For him.” I pull back, look into his face and start bawling. I can’t help it. Sean laughs lightly and pulls me closer to his chest. “It’s good to know you care.”

  I slap his side, making him wince.

  “Sorry, but you’re an ass, you know that? Why’d you wait so long to find me?”

  “Because, in case you didn’t notice, you were hiding in this lovely neighborhood. If Mel hadn’t gotten hold of me, I wouldn’t have known you survived. I was sure Vic killed you. That guy is unhinged.” Sean takes my face in his palms and holds me there. He gazes at me like he didn’t expect to see me again.

  “Is the baby all right?” His question cuts me to my core.

  I start blubbering again and bury my face in his chest. Since he can’t understand what I’m saying, he assumes the worst.

  “You lost it? Avery, I’m so sorry. Oh, my God.” He holds me gently, kissing the top of my head, and when I pull away to correct him, I see something that makes no sense. Sean blinks hard and swipes at his eyes. My jaw drops and I stare at him. Sean forces a smile.

  “I know it wasn’t mine, but I was happy for you. I could see you holding her in your arms. She was beautiful, just like you.” He lifts his hand to my cheek, and I lean into his touch.

  “Sean,” I manage to choke out his name. I never expected him to be like this. I said the worst thing I could possibly think of to get him to leave me, and he’s still here. He’s crying over a baby I never had. I feel like an asshat. “It’s not that. There was never a baby.”

  His expression shifts, becoming guarded once more. The vulnerability is sucked off his face and into the emotional black hole swirling within him. He’s quiet, waiting for an explanation. I step away and twist my hands as I speak.

  “I thought you were going to sacrifice yourself to save me. I couldn’t stop you. No one can stop you when you’re like that, Sean. I couldn’t think of anything else that would throw you off, so I said I didn’t love you. I added a fake baby when you wouldn’t walk away. There was no baby and I don’t love Trystan, not like that. I never have. It’s always been you. I don’t know how to get through this, but I can’t lose you again.” My lower lids come up as my vision goes blurry from unshed tears.

  Sean is completely still. I have no idea what he’s thinking. He doesn’t even make an indication that he’s heard me. He just stands in the middle of the street, staring blankly.

  “Sean, say something.” I try to catch his eye, but he doesn’t move. “I was cruel and you should be pissed. Yell at me! Scream! I deserve it.” As I say the last words, I press my hands to his chest and push.

  Sean blinks and looks down at me. His hands cover mine. Those blue eyes pierce my soul and his beautiful face is a canvas of hope and adoration.

  “When you said it was his, I realized something.”

  My heart slaps against my ribs, bursts through, and runs down the street. This can’t be real. It can’t be. He’s going to say it; he’s going to tell me he loves me. After denying it for so long, after continuously trying to push me away, he’s going to say it. I can see it on his face.

  “What?”

  Sean presses his lips together and swallows hard. His lashes lower so that he’s no longer looking me in the eye. Whatever he has to say is incredibly personal, so much so that he can’t hide how vulnerable it makes him feel.

  “I realized how badly I wanted a life with you--not the messed up version I thought we’d have, but a real life. Maybe it won’t be in a Cape Cod house with a picket fence, but I saw us together on a couch with a baby on your lap. I saw you stroke her hair and kiss her cheek. I saw her pink dress and her little pink shoes. I saw her, Avery. She was the life we could have had. It wasn’t the house or the fences. It wasn’t about a dog or zip code. It was about us, about her. I wanted her so badly, and I never even realized it. A life with you would be complicated, but most dreams are--and I’ve treated you so badly--”

  I press my fingers to his lips and stop him. Sean looks me in the eye.

  “You want a baby?” He nods. “With me?” A smile lights up his face.

  “Yes, with you. You’re my home. I want to be wherever you are. If you'll have me, I want to build a life with you. I love you, Avery.”

  My lower lip begins to tremble and I can’t stop it. Every emotion I’ve held in check for so long comes rushing out in the most ungodly sound. Sean's eyes sweep up to the guys, who have been watching us, and then back at me.

  “Don’t cry. We don’t have to do anything. I shouldn’t have said anything. I should have--”

  I start laughing, which confuses him more. Sean’s face is a mix of horror and bewilderment. I grab his face and kiss him, cutting off his words. When I pull back, I laugh again.

  “I’m glad you did. I had no idea. None. This mess of tears and smiles is joy; I think you broke my face.”

  Sean smiles and pulls me to him. “You want me?”

  “Always.”

  “You’ll marry me? You’ll be my wife?”

  “And have your babies.” I smile up at him. My gaze drifts to his lips and I really want to press my body against his and kiss him until I can’t breathe.

  Mel shouts from the back of the van. “Get your skinny asses in here! I knew this was stupid. It’s got stupid white people written all over it. You two are brain dead!” Mel chucks something at us--a roll of tape--and it hits me in the shin before wobbling down the street.

  “Fine.” I take Sean’s hand and start walking toward the vehicle. “I’ll get in the van. But I know that tape was for me. You knew I wouldn’t get in.”

  He squeezes my hand. “I knew you’d never give up.”

  CHAPTER 8

  SEAN

  I watch her like I’m in a dream and she may vanish. I thought I’d lost her--lost her heart to Trystan Scott and then her brother--I don’t want to think about that. Vic Jr. is darkness, evil, worse than his father by far. Avery gazes over at me with those soft brown eyes. Her lips curve into a sweet sm
ile.

  “I can’t believe you hired a geek crew and thought they could be ninjas. I bet kidnapping wasn’t something they wanted on their resume.”

  Goatee Guy snorts. “True dat.” He winks at me and makes a set of guns with his fingers, then tips them back and makes a “pfff” noise with his mouth.

  “Justin,” I say in a warning tone. The guy can’t keep his mouth shut. The less Avery knows, the better. As it is, she’s going to be pissed when she figures out who we’re going to see.

  “Sorry, boss.” He leans back against the van wall.

  Avery slips her small hand into mine, lacing our fingers together. She feels so good. I want to get her alone and trace every inch of her body with my hands. I want to feel her curves fill my palms, and watch as she presses into me. Memories of her flood my mind--her head tipped back, eyes closed, her long hair cascading down her back, and her perfect breasts are thrust forward. In my mind’s eye, I see her in the shower in my rooms, dripping wet. Her body glistens under the spray of water as she leans against the cold tiles.

  She’s the sexiest woman I’ve ever met, willing to try anything, wanting to know what pleasures are to her liking--and mine. The most amusing part is that she has no idea how alluring she is, a siren in sneakers.

  As I watch, her expression changes from contentment to inquisitiveness.

  “What are you thinking about?”

  I lean forward and touch her hair, pushing it away from those gorgeous eyes.

  “Do you really want to know?”

  She cocks her head to the side and adopts a stern look. “I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t want to know. Tell me. You have a weird look on your face.”

  I lean in close to her ear, a breath away. She shivers, and I take the moment to tease her. “I’ve been thinking about how much fun it’s going to be to make you my wife. In every sense of the word.” My lips brush her ear before I pull away.