The Arrangement 17 (The Ferro Family)

by Ward, H. M.

  The driver nods as I pay and head toward the back, out of sight. The driver closes the doors and moves on, winding up and down the streets until we’re on the highway. It’s not the best place to read, but it might be the only chance I have. I pull out a document and start reading, but it doesn’t make sense. I pull out another and another, scanning, reading as fast as I can. The bus rolls along, and I doubt Sean is far behind me.

  The next time the bus stops, I look up and an old woman takes the seat next to me. She glances at my papers and chuckles to herself. “I haven’t seen that kind of shorthand in a long time.”

  “Shorthand?”

  She nods. “It was commonly used about fifty years ago. I used it when I was a secretary in my early twenties, but then I married the boss.” She nudges me with her shoulder and laughs.

  “So you can read this?”

  She nods. “Of course.”

  “Can you show me how?”

  “Sure, it’s not hard once you understand it.” She takes a page and smiles. “The woman who wrote this was Italian, or at least she knew enough that it poked out now and again. Like this word, it’s not English, so that probably makes it harder for you to translate. Do you know where these documents are from?”

  I shake my head. “They were my mother’s. She died and I found them while going through her things.”

  “I’m sorry for your loss, dear.” Her old eyes scan the papers with renewed interest. She begins to laugh, shaking her head. “Well, your mother was a pip. She interchanged things. See this word? Iron? It’s a name, not a piece of metal. This mark here means it’s an account, see?”

  Shaking my head, I look at the papers. “No, I’m sorry, I don’t get it.”

  She points, “This column lists names, and this one has notes about them. See, Iron means Ferro—oh, that’s odd. Did she know the Ferro family? This mark here means that a sum of money was received and added to this account. Here’s the total. She’s made a notation that those funds weren’t found when closing the store—she must have been a bookkeeper. She matched the slip tape with the customer number. Smart woman. It’s just an account record, dear. Boring reading materials for a pretty little thing like you to be reading on the bus.” She smiles again, and pushes up. “Well, this is my stop. I’ve got to go to CVS before heading home. Have a good night.”

  I watch her walk down the aisle toward the exit, wondering if she’s a threat. I stay on the bus for the next few stops and am able to make out some of the names, including more entries for Ferro, the iron family. I wonder if Constance did this, or if it was Sean’s father.

  Stuffing the papers back in my jacket, I jump off at the next stop. I've traveled east for a comfortable distance from my parents' house and it’s getting late. Exhaustion starts to cloud my brain. Near the bus stop, I find a rundown motel. I walk up to the front desk, pay cash for the next few days, and before long, I’m in an old room that smells as bad as it looks. The walls are covered in wood paneling and there’s an old orange carpet on the floor. This place has hourly rates and it sounds like a couple is making use of that feature in the room next door. Stomping from the room above causes plaster from the dated popcorn ceiling to fall on my head, but I’m too tired to care. The second I hit the bed, I pass out.

  Chapter 12

  ***SEAN***

  Wooden boards, blistering and sun-bleached, are warm under my feet. The ocean laps quietly at the small dock, making it sway slightly, as I take one step and then another. A lighthouse flashes in the distance, spinning its narrow beam of light, momentarily blinding me. I take another step. There are very few left before I fall. Time is failing me, and the inky waves will swallow me whole.

  Pulse pounding, I take another step, placing my bare foot on the splintering wood, cursing my inability to go back where I was, back to that place with her. I felt safe there and thought I could be someone else. For her I changed, and for her, I’ll die.

  I step forward, inching toward my demise. My throat tightens in fear, but my feet won’t stop. My end is inevitable. I won’t turn back and I have no other way out.

  “Sean!” His voice startles me at first, but when I hear him again, clearly calling my name, I shield my eyes and peer through the darkness. I see nothing for miles, no land, and no place to rest. “Sean,” he says again, “step out.”

  I hear his voice, but I can’t see his face. “You shouldn’t be here.”

  “Neither should you. I did what I had to do; now you need to trust me. Have faith, Sean. Step out. The waves will carry you to the other side.”

  A flicker of light catches my eye and a familiar voice comes from behind me. I turn, looking back at the lingering rays. “Come back to me, Sean.” Amanda’s words cut through me, and I fall to my knees on the dock. “Come home.” She repeats the last words she ever said to me, over and over again, beckoning me back.

  Their voices clash like clanging cymbals, each pulling me in a different direction. The mistakes of my past call me back to my wife, while my cousin calls me forward. I failed him. Avery knows. She figured me out.

  She belongs with Trystan.

  “Come home.”

  I cringe and lean forward, resting my head on the dock. Everything within my body is screaming out for me to turn back, to return to Amanda. I did this to her. I caused her death.

  “Sean, step out. Keep going! Don’t stop!” Bryan calls to me again in that tone he used so often. I can’t bear what happened the night we went to get Hallie. Everything went wrong and before I knew what happened, he was gone.

  The certainty of Amanda’s light beckons to me, calling me back, but Bryan’s voice is strong, pulling me forward. “It was my choice, Sean, not yours. It was my choice, not yours. Don’t waste this chance. Step into the water and you’ll be safe.”

  It takes every ounce of strength within me to pull my leaden body up off the dock and haul my feet forward. Every moment is agony, every second is torture, but I finally step off the end. Amanda’s voice falls silent and the only sound remaining is the ocean. When my foot hits the water it sinks. I turn to look back at the dock, but it’s gone. Amanda’s light has disappeared. There’s no way back and no way forward. I’m sinking. The cold water is swallowing me whole.

  I picture the liquid noose rising around my neck, cold and strong. I picture the waves pulling me under as if they were the arms of a giant. I picture gasping for air but never finding enough.

  Suddenly my feet hit rock, as if I were standing in a shallow puddle. It’s an illusion, the way the darkness plays off the top of the water makes it look like an ocean, but it isn’t. I take off at full-speed, running toward the lighthouse, wanting her, knowing she’s there. Avery is my rock in the storm. That’s what Bryan was telling me.

  Elated, I push further ahead, faster. When I make it to the lighthouse, I race up the steps to the room at the top and throw open the door. The woman I love turns to look at me, and my heart tears in two. She’s naked, standing wrapped in the arms of Trystan Scott. I try to say her name, but my voice fails me. I move my mouth, but she regards me as no more than a speck of dust. The light turns toward me once more, blinding me.

  I shield my eyes, calling out to her. “Avery! Wait! I lied. I want you; I want a life with you. Please, Avery…”

  But it’s too late. When the light spins around again she’s gone.

  Chapter 13

  ***SEAN***

  Drenched in cold sweat, I dart upright in my bed, gasping air as fast as I can swallow it.

  “Avery.” I say her name without thinking, and a chill goes up my spine. Clutching my head in my hands, I throw my feet off the side of the bed and sit for a moment, willing my pulse to resume a normal rate. My stomach twists in knots, twisting increasingly harder and tighter, even though the nightmare is over. But that’s the problem—the nightmare is not over, it never ends.

  “God, I hate this place.” I can’t believe I let Pete talk me into coming here. The house I grew up in conjures more nightmares than
anywhere I’ve ever slept, but Peter insisted on it. There’s no getting it out of his head that I’m injured, and since I need them to believe I am, I allow him to take me here.

  If I see my mother, I’ll lose it. I know I will. Our last discussion was less than amiable. Just one disagreement with her would be a fucking cakewalk, but that woman is ruthless. Her scheming never ends and it wouldn’t shock me in the least to see her name at the top of Avery’s damned papers.

  A promise is a promise, blood be damned. I did this, but Avery doesn’t know why. I intend on keeping it that way. Lies suit me. I’ve told so many lies the truth is irrelevant at this point. There’s no way she can possibly navigate her way between fact and fiction. For that, I feel sick. She didn’t deserve this, not any of it, and she wouldn’t be in this goddamn mess, were it not for me.

  There’s only one way for her to get out. I’m in this so deep the only direction to go is down, further into decay. I know I’ll lose what’s left of myself; I’m not a fool. Avery’s nothing if not perceptive, but there are no choices left. I won’t abandon her.

  Laughing to myself, I shake my head and push my sweaty hair out of my face. If I had never gone to Mother for help, this wouldn’t have happened. That snake has her fangs at my neck, ready to strike, and Avery is positioned to fall in my wake. My one desperate action caused this path of destruction.

  Cracking my knuckles, I stretch and look up at the ceiling. My days are numbered. My time is devolving into seconds and although I’m horrified by the thought of what I have to do, no dream can make me change course. I have to see this through, or die trying.

  Pushing off the bed, I pad across the floor and grab the coffee can off my dresser. Peeling back the lid, I peer inside and smirk. I was livid last night when I finally opened the envelopes. I can’t believe she tricked me—no, that’s not true—I can believe it. She’s been trying to save me since we met. For every move I made, she had an equally brilliant countermove. She stole my breath the first time I saw her, and owned my soul from the first time I kissed her. She’s my equal, my counterpart in every way. The darkness that stains her soul is as black as mine. Malice is under those stains, waiting to be raised to the light.

  If Avery can convince Mother or Black to support her, she’ll beat me to the draw, and secure her place at the head of Campone’s organization. That power struggle will fizzle and die; no one in their right mind would challenge Avery with those benefactors. Mother and Black are two of the scariest women of all time. When I read the bible story about the Garden of Eden and the snake is first mentioned, these ladies come to mind. Both have loved me, yet neither would hesitate to spill my blood if doing so meant getting something they want.

  I look down at the empty envelopes and then dump the trinkets into my hand one more time, wondering why Avery let these treasures escape. I think of her cross necklace, how she lost it and how long it took me to find it again. It pains me that she tossed these away.

  She’s changing, and not for the better. I have to stop her.

  Avery thinks she can prevent me from taking this path, but she’s just made me more determined. I know she still has the documents and I plan to take them back. Until then, just the illusion that I have them in my possession will turn all the attention toward me. I know they saw me rip the can from her hands last night.

  The only loose end is Avery, if someone tries to hurt her, they’ll hurt me. She’s a piece of me, as important as my hand and more precious than my soul.

  If she’s with Scott, they can’t get near her—not with his security entourage. The thought sickens me, but it’s where she belongs. I can’t give her what she wants—the pretty little house, the white picket fence, and the baby—he can.

  “You chose this shit, Ferro.” I mutter to myself and walk across my old room to look out the window. It’s morning. The sunrise looks like spilled paint cutting across the darkness.

  She’s out there somewhere, waiting. I need to find her before they do.

  Clutching the windowsill, and leaning toward the glass, I say to myself, “This ends today.” I’ll do what I have to—how could I do anything else? I’ll defend my family, even if I die doing it. Pete doesn’t deserve this shit; he deserves a good, long and happy life with Sidney, away from all this drama. As for Jon, God knows he’s just clueless. He’s barely been on his own and is so wrapped up in some girl he can’t think straight. Now that Bryan is dead and took the blame for me, Jon is too distraught to be of any help.

  Not that any of them could help me right now, anyway.

  I’m on my own.

  Chapter 14

  ~AVERY~

  A knock on the motel room door wakes me from dreamless sleep. I roll over, ignoring it, but just as I close my eyes, the soft knocking comes again.

  Tap. Tap. Tap.

  My heart jumps and I sit up slowly, and wait, panic flooding through me. I slip out of bed, still in my clothes, and pad silently to the door. I’ve just leaned forward to look through the peephole, when the knob begins to rattle. I jump back, terrified. Glancing around, I try to find a weapon, but there isn’t anything that’s not glued down. I grab the only thing that I’ve got—a pencil.

  There’s a click and the door swings open. Rain is barreling down in buckets, pouring over the man standing in my doorway. It’s too dark to make out his face. He steps into the room and looks up.

  “Sean.”

  He’s breathing hard, his clothes soaked and clinging to his skin, highlighting each well-defined muscle. “I need those papers. Do you have any idea what you’ve done? You nearly got me killed.” His anger surges as he slams the door and rushes toward me.

  I yelp and stumble backward, falling onto the bed. The springs squeak beneath my weight, as I try to crabwalk away, but Sean grabs my ankles and pulls me forward. He leans down and gets in my face. “I’m going to ask you one more time, Miss Smith. Where are your mother’s documents?”

  “I don’t have them.” Heart beating hard, I stay still beneath him. Sean’s hands work their way up my legs, patting, feeling for the paper, but it’s not there. He manhandles my body, searching, but there aren’t any papers stuffed into my clothes.

  “Avery,” he huffs in my face and presses me back into the bed, crawling on top of me as he does so, “so help me, God, you’ve pushed me too far.” Maybe my fear brought this out in him, or maybe it was his own anger, either way, as he leans into me I can feel how much he wants me. Water beads off his hair and drips onto my neck. His eyes follow the drops as they slide across my curves and disappear between my breasts.

  “Same here.” My voice trembles, and I try to push him away, but he presses me further into the bed with his body.

  Our lips are so close that I can feel his breath, and the way he’s pressing into me makes me shiver. It’s as if he knows what I’m thinking, how much I want to be with him, how much I wish we could just start over and put everything behind us.

  Sean glares at me with those steely eyes. “We can’t.”

  Brushing my lips against his, I whisper, “But you want to.”

  “You can’t do what I need right now, what I want.” Sean is about to pull away, when I reach for him, taking hold of the back of his neck.

  “Try me.”

  Two words. That’s all it takes to break him. Sean darts upright and pulls off his wet jacket and shirt, leaving only his jeans. He kicks off his boots and climbs urgently back on top of me. His eyes are hungry, devouring me like a starving man. He doesn’t speak. His head dips for my neck as he presses my body to his. His lips trail over my soft skin, teasing me, leaving me gasping for breath. His hand is on the back of my neck, tangling in my hair as he yanks me up onto his lap.

  With a tug, he rips off my cheap shirt and tosses it to the floor. My bra is given the same treatment. Unchecked, his strength sends a chill over my skin. The way he holds me, as if he’ll never see me again makes my pulse race and takes my breath away. I want to feel my body against his, skin on skin, hot and
slick, but Sean pulls away. The sudden rush of cold air makes me gasp. I reach for him and he quickly grabs my wrists, tying them together in front of me. He’s careful not to make eye contact with me as he works. It seems like a movement he’s mastered through practice. My heart pounds harder with anticipation and regret. I liked what we were doing a moment ago, but I told him he could do more.

  When he’s done, my wrists are bound tightly in front of me. A shiver works its way up my spine. He stands, setting me gently on the floor. Sean’s cool blue gaze flicks up and peers at me from behind damp hair. That predatory grin spreads across his face. He circles around me, watching my chest rise and fall, tracing my body with his eyes before reaching down and ripping away my panties.

  I cry out, startled by the speed with which he grabbed me. I look up to find Sean’s eyes filled with lust and something more, something dark. My pulse races faster, as my heart beats harder. I wanted this. I asked for this.

  “Turn.” It’s a single word command. I do as I’m told and turn to face the bed, my back to him. He pushes me down so I’m leaning over the side of the bed, hips in the air, my tethered wrists stretched out before me. He jumps over the bed, and hooks my tethered wrists to the bottom of the bed frame.

  Up until now, I’ve been able to see him moving in the faint glow of the clock and a nightlight reflecting off the bathroom mirror. Sean disappears from my view and the room turns black. The red glow of the clock is gone and the nightlight is doused.

  My eyes search the darkness, but I can’t see anything. My pulse quickens as worry pinches my stomach. “Sean?” I call his name softly, turning my head when I think I hear something behind me.

  The movement makes it easy for him to slip something over my head so I can’t see. Something else comes over my face, passing my eyes and lands in my mouth. He yanks it tight, gagging me. A third cloth is looped over my head and settles around my neck. That’s when I freak out. I can’t see, I can’t breathe, and if he chokes me I’m going to flip out. I buck my hips and scream, trying to free myself.