Amplify

by Anne Mercier

  "No doubt."

  "So tell me, how did you fuck up this time?" he asks with a smirk.

  "Dick," I mutter and take another drink.

  Giovanni laughs.

  I tell him and he nods. "Honesty is a must with Serafina. You did what was right."

  "It still bit me in the ass," I tell him and drink some more.

  He nods. "It usually does but it would have been much worse later on."

  "Likely. But this isn’t good. It’s not good at all."

  "She carried on as though she was interested in Kingston. No one can fault you for entertaining the possibility. I, myself, considered it," Giovanni admits.

  "I should have known better."

  "How could you, when neither of you know how to speak to one another of your feelings?"

  "We discussed all that, Gio."

  "Yes, now. But it might have helped then. Communication, Cage. Isn’t that what I taught you about business?"

  I nod.

  "The same applies to relationships... especially with a woman such as Serafina."

  "I can’t force her to talk to me, Gio. I tried on multiple occasions to discuss what happened, to work past it and move forward, but she ran. She always fucking ran." My fist hits the bar with a thud and conversation within the club comes to a halt.

  Giovanni lifts a hand and everyone carries on as they were.

  "She runs, yes. You know why."

  I nod. "I do. I’ve given her every reason to trust me."

  "And then you tell her the truth and make her feel like you don’t know her at all."

  I slam the drink back, welcoming the burn again.

  "I’m not the only one who thought that, Giovanni. That’s the way they wanted it to appear," I say in my defense.

  "Yes, but you’re the only one whose thoughts she gives a fuck about. And, you of all people should know that not everything is as it seems," he reminds me.

  I nod. He’s right. Carina and I have never been what we appeared to be. It was all for show. Just because it looked like we were involved and fucking, doesn’t mean we were—and the same applies to Sera and Ben. Shit.

  "I don’t know how to make this right. I can’t change it—the fact that she knows I thought she and Kingston were fucking." I’m definitely not drunk enough to know I’ve lost her.

  "No, you can’t change it, but you can make it right. There’s always a way when there’s love involved. Do you think Carlotta and I have always gotten along?" he chuckles. "I could tell you stories. Serafina will need some time to cool off, but don’t give up. Keep trying. Let her know you’re not giving up. Call her. Text her. Hell, stalk her. Just remember, Cage, there’s always a way."

  I nod again.

  "Now, let’s get you home before you’re too drunk to walk."

  "That was the plan," I mutter.

  "I figured as much but it’s not a good one."

  "Why the hell not?"

  "No one here can carry you," he chuckles.

  I grunt. "There is that."

  Sera

  Broken by Seether feat. Amy Lee

  Titanium by David Guetta feat. Sia

  Bed of Lies by Nicki Minaj, Skylar Grey

  "UH-OH," XANDER MUTTERS when he steps onto the terrace where I’m eating my breakfast.

  I look at him out of the corner of my eye but don’t say a word. Lucy shakes her head at him, warning him I’m really not in the mood and that’d be putting it mildly.

  Xan plops down in a chair next to me. "Hmm."

  I continue to ignore him and take a sip of my coffee.

  "What happened?" he asks.

  "Dude," Jesse warns.

  "What?"

  "Ever think it’s none of your business?" Jesse asks him.

  Xander scoffs. "Nah. It’s all my business."

  "Not this time," Lucy tells him knowingly.

  "She tell you?" Xander asks her. Lucy shakes her head.

  "Not yet but she will when she’s ready."

  I look to Lucy and tilt my head to the side in acknowledgement, then pop another bite of watermelon into my mouth.

  "Fuck that," Xander mutters. "I want to know now."

  "It doesn’t fucking matter what you want, Xander," Kennedy scolds.

  "Leave her the hell alone," Ethan cautions.

  "Dude," is all Jace says, but it speaks volumes.

  Ben just glares at him.

  Meggie and Trace remain quiet but watchful and supportive.

  Spenser walks out onto the terrace. "Serafina Rosalie Manzini. What the hell have you done to your hair?"

  I flinch. "Shampoo ad," is my reply.

  Spenser makes a throaty noise of distaste. "Horrible shampoo. Hair-killing shampoo. We need to give you a hair treatment. Today."

  When I open my mouth to give an excuse, he interrupts.

  "And don’t even think I’m letting you give me some bullshit reason why you can’t sit in a chair for an hour or two with your books while I fix what they destroyed in less than a day." He makes the sign of the cross.

  I just nod, knowing better than to argue with Spenser.

  "What are you doing here, anyway? I thought you were shacked up with the big bossman," Spenser says unknowingly.

  I don’t know what it is about that sentence that does it, but I snap. I set my fork down on the table and Lucy gasps. There’s a red haze surrounding my vision, the anger, the hurt, it fills me. I can feel the flow of it and I stand up and throw my plate across the terrace, watching it soar through the air toward the bar where it hits and shatters. My bowl is next. Then my glass, and with the glass comes an anguished scream.

  "Sera, baby," Xander begins. I cut my gaze to him and he immediately sits back.

  "What is going on out here?" Mrs. Martinez asks from the terrace doors.

  I walk toward her. "I’m sorry Mrs. M."

  "It’s alright, Sera. It’ll be alright," she says reassuringly.

  I shake my head. No. It won’t.

  Cage: I’m sorry, Sera.

  Cage: Can we talk?

  Cage: Please, Fee.

  A gurgle bubbles up in my throat as I make my way through CFD to the kitchen to grab a soda.

  "Holy fuck," Jace murmurs at the noise and Ethan looks up from his spot on the sofa, confused.

  I look around for something, anything. I grab a turquoise vase and hurl it across the room. It barely misses Ethan’s head when it zings past to the fireplace where it shatters.

  "Christ almighty, Sera. You almost hit me," Ethan declares.

  I shrug. "Almost only counts in horseshoes and hand grenades." I barely send him a glance then continue to the kitchen, the anger inside me palpable. I pour the cola into a glass with ice and Xander walks in.

  "Maybe you should use a plastic cup," he tells me innocently.

  I turn to glare at him and he flinches. I seem to be getting that reaction a lot today.

  Xander sighs. "You need to talk about it."

  No. I fucking don’t. My hand flexes and I put the soda can in the recycling bin.

  "Sera," he says, pushing me when I have no more room to be pushed.

  I pick my glass up in one hand, the cold refreshing against my hot skin. I look around—anger, rage, they need an outlet. I grab a cupcake from the counter and smash it in Xander’s face, swirling it around and around, then I pat his cheek twice and stalk off.

  THE FIRST BOUQUET OF ROSES arrives an hour later. I merely throw them in the trash, only to have them put somewhere in the house by Mrs. Martinez.

  The second and third arrive together and knowing she’ll only save them from the trash, I stuff them, one by one, into the garbage disposal. Misty watches knowingly, not muttering a word, she just continues on cooking. I admit the flowers didn’t do anything to me, but I’m not ready for anything pretty in my life. Not yet.

  "YOU’RE NOT GOING TO HURT me are you?" Spenser asks when I walk into his domain.

  I raise an eyebrow. "Are you going to ask me about it?"

  "Hell n
o. I’d like to live another day," he tells me, leading me over to the sink. He wraps a towel around my neck, then one of those plastic capes. I lean back and the warm water bathes my scalp. I relax a bit into the chair and let out a sigh.

  "You’re wound tighter than a clock. I’ll give you some extra scalp lovin’."

  When Spenser applies the shampoo, he works it into my scalp with his fingertips and I let out a moan. He tsks but doesn’t say anything else. He rinses and then wraps a towel around my hair, blotting it dry.

  "What? No conditioner?" I’m a little disappointed. I wanted more scalp massage.

  "Oh, there’s plenty of conditioner coming in the form of scalp and hair treatment. Promise me you’ll never do this to our hair again," he pleads.

  "I promise." I make an X over my heart.

  "I think we can fix it easily enough, but—what kind of shampoo was it anyway?"

  I rattle off the name.

  He scoffs. "Well that explains it. That shampoo is not for your hair. That’s for those with greasy or oily hair. Yours is healthy and sometimes borders on dry."

  I nod, looking remorseful.

  Spenser opens a large jar of white goo that smells deliciously like a fruity cocktail. I breathe deeply and relax as deft fingers work the product into my scalp and hair. I’m about to nod off when Spenser speaks up.

  "Why don’t we have you lie down over there? We need to let that set a good while. Carmen can give you a massage if you like?"

  I blow out a breath. "I’m sorry. I haven’t been sleeping well."

  Spenser just nods.

  "Let’s get you up on the table here," he says, helping me. "Just lie down and relax. Nap if you need to. I’ll wake you when it’s time to rinse."

  "Thanks Spenser."

  He rests a hand on my shoulder. "Anytime doll."

  Carmen helps me strip off my bra and shirt. I lie down and within minutes of her miracle fingers working their magic, I’m asleep.

  THAT’S THE LAST BIT OF decent sleep I’ve had in nearly a week. I’ve chopped up hundreds of innocent flowers, broken more dishes than I can count and made sure to replace them all. The vases—well, those are a different story. While some were just knock offs, others were not. Let’s just say Lucy’s not too happy with me but, in truth, right now I don’t care. My anger is palpable, hovering just below the surface, ready to explode without warning.

  Xander’s on the sofa; Jace, Ethan, and Ben in the surrounding chairs, all strumming their guitars. They eye me warily—rightfully so. I pick up my acoustic from the corner and sit next to Xander.

  "Uh, is this a good idea?" Jace asks and I burn him a look.

  "Alrighty then," Ethan murmurs.

  Xander starts strumming a song and I freeze.

  I met you on that warm and sunny day

  Unsure of just what to say

  You caught my eye from across the room

  That was the day love started to bloom

  Xander looks at me and leans back. I strum the next chord and begin to sing.

  In my heart, heart, heart

  I knew it from the start, start, start

  That I’d be yours and you’d be mine

  Nothing compares to the scent of you and pine

  Ohhh, you and pine

  Nothing at all compares to you

  Love and affection in all you do

  You love me sweetly

  You love me completely

  Just as I love you

  In my heart, heart, heart

  I knew it from the start, start, start

  That I’d be yours and you’d be mine

  Nothing compares to the scent of you and pine

  Ohhh, you and pine

  I’d be yours and you’d be mine

  I am yours and you are mine

  Silence surrounds us and a lone tear slides down my cheek. It hurts. It hurts so much. My heart feels like it’s crumbling to dust in my chest.

  I stand up, raise the guitar over my head and slam it to the floor, over and over and over again, fragments of wood splintering and flying everywhere. I drop the last of the guitar to the floor, the pain still stabbing through me. I say nothing to the men watching me silently, unsure of what to do.

  "Sera," Lucy whispers.

  I nod and take her hand as she leads me up the stairs.

  "Dude," I hear Ethan say. "I knew that was a bad idea."

  "Not a bad idea at all," Ben tells him. "She needed to get there."

  "How did you know about that song?" Jace asks Xander.

  He shrugs. "I read her stuff all the time. That’s the only one she ever completed—lyrics, chords, all of it."

  I can’t hear the rest of what’s being said, but I don’t want to. I don’t need to. I know they all think I’m crazy. They think I’ve completely lost it, and maybe I have. I just don’t know how to deal with the pain and anger. They’re so strong and I feel like I’ll combust if I don’t get them out somehow.

  Lucy leads me to her bedroom and curls up next to me on the bed.

  "Tell me," she says. And I do. All of it. From the very beginning to now. From where Cage and I were best friends and he took care of me, holding and rocking me when I had nightmares, staying with me when I didn’t want to be alone—loving me when I didn’t deserve to be loved.

  "Oh, Sera. You’ve always deserved to be loved," Lucy says softly.

  I shake my head. "I—" I don’t even know what I want to say, what to say, so I say the only thing I do know: "I love him so much, Luce."

  "I know, Sera. I know. He loves you too. You have to know that."

  I shake my head again.

  "He loves you so much, Sera. It shines in his eyes when he looks at you."

  I shake my head again. I’m not sure why... if I don’t believe it or if I’m not ready to. Either way, "It doesn’t matter."

  "That’s where you’re wrong, sister of mine. It’s the only thing that does matter. Everything else is secondary."

  I meet her gaze.

  "Let him love you, Sera. Let yourself love him in return."

  I just look at her. "I don’t think I know how."

  "You can learn together," she tells me and holds me while I cry.

  THE NEXT MORNING I’m getting out of the shower when my phone rings. Joan. I’ve missed her.

  "Hello?"

  "Sera. How are you doing, sweetheart?" she asks.

  I sigh. "I’m alright. How are you?"

  "I’m good. I miss you."

  "I miss you too, Joan," I admit.

  "So come over today. We’ll chat a while, have some cocktails."

  "I don’t know—" I begin.

  "If it’s Cage you’re worried about, he’s got meetings nearly all day so we can relax and have some girl time."

  I nod. "I’d like that."

  "Good. Come around one? I have a few errands and appointments this morning but we can have a late lunch."

  "That sounds great, Joan. Thank you."

  "No, dear. Thank you. I’ll see you at one."

  "See you then."

  I hang up and look at my reflection in the mirror and notice a hint of a smile on my lips, the first since that day.

  I look like hell. It’s a good thing I’ve got plenty of makeup and time before I have to meet Joan.

  I PULL MY CAR TO THE FRONT of the house and my heart drops into my stomach, flip-flopping around. Cage. Home. I close my eyes and take a deep breath. He won’t be here. That’s good because I need to figure out how to give myself to him completely the way Lucy said I needed to—the way I need to.

  And she’s right. I need to. I need him.

  I exit the car and make my way to the door. I stand awkwardly, the guard nodding his greeting. Do I ring the bell?

  Oh screw it. I key in the code and unlock the door.

  "Joan?" I call out, locking and coding the alarm again. I head to the kitchen and it’s empty. I walk in further and notice a note stuck to the refrigerator.

  Sera~

  I
f I’m not here, I’m running late. Blame Cage. Likely it’s his fault.

  Make yourself at home. I’ll be there soon.

  Love,

  Joan

  I snicker. Blame Cage. I’m good at that, even if the majority of the time it’s my fault. A yawn escapes me and I walk through the silent house. God, I’m so tired. I walk straight to Cage’s room—our room, and stare at the bed—our bed.

  I walk over and crawl on top of the blankets, resting my head on his pillow. You and pine. I slip my sandals off and they fall to the floor with a thud, then reach down for the throw blanket at the end of the bed. I snuggle down into the blanket and the pillow, imagining Cage’s arms encircling me in their safety, holding me tightly, as he loves me.

  I let out a soft sigh and drift off to sleep.

  I HEAR A TAP, TAP, TAPPING and I startle awake. My eyes open and at the end of the bed is Carina, leaning against one of the bed posts, tapping one of her blood red nails. I look up and see her lips match her nails.

  "You’re too pale to be able to pull off that red," I yawn.

  She sneers. "I think it looks fashionable."

  "You look like a vampire—which is fitting, seeing as you are a blood-sucking whore," I tell her with a grin as I push to a sitting position.

  "Why are you even here?" she asks, walking around the room, trailing an index finger across the top of Cage’s dresser. I want nothing more than to break that fucking finger. She doesn’t belong touching his things—our things.

  "I should be asking you that."

  She grins that bitch-evil grin of hers. "No, you shouldn’t. I belong here. You no longer do."

  I roll my eyes. Here we go. "And you figure this how?"

  "You’re no longer his concern, Serafina."

  I tilt my head to the side. "Enlighten me."

  "My pleasure," she purrs, walking around and touching everything. It makes me want to break that fucking finger even more. One day I will. I’ll rip those god damn nails out too.

  "You see," she begins, "you’re no longer pregnant, so Cage no longer has to pretend to be enamored with you."

  I let out a laugh. "Oh, honey, you’re so backwards. It was you he was pretending with."

  Something flashes in her eyes but it’s only there for a brief second before it’s gone. How I wish I could have got a read on that and played off of it.