Magnificent Ruin (Everlasting Series Book 2)

by Alison Foster

  “What do you mean?” he says, his face already bruising up and swelling around his nose and under his eyes.

  I shrug. I can’t help myself. “It might be best if I left, Tomas. We both know that. My safety is also at risk.”

  “No,” he says, “I won’t have it. I’ll go talk to De Luca right now.”

  He makes a move for the door and panic rises inside me.

  “You’re not going to talk to that monster alone,” I say, blocking his way.

  “It will be fine.”

  “If you say it will be fine one more time, I’ll punch you myself.”

  Even through the fresh bruises, I can see how his grin takes over his face. “It might be worth it to watch you get all flustered and panting.”

  Are we still talking about me punching him? Lord, what is he trying to do to me? “How do you know De Luca?” I say, doing my best to avoid smiling.

  “I met him in Brooklyn a few years back. I had no idea I was going to run into him and his whole crew right here, on a fucking Greek island.”

  He laughs but it’s without glee. It’s the kind of laughter that suggests the coincidence is an unpleasant one.

  “Have you been to his villa?”

  “A couple times.”

  “What about Amelia?”

  “Amelia?”

  “That incredibly beautiful girl on the beach. Do you know her?”

  He grows impatient, tapping his fingertips on the table.

  “You want me to believe you, you tell me the truth,” I insist.

  “I met her at the villa,” he admits. “We started talking and then some drunk guy caused a scene and that was that.”

  “So why did she act like she didn’t know you?”

  “You’ll have to ask her.”

  “Did you sleep with her?”

  “What? No! Taylor, please.”

  My brain tries to put all the pieces together. The night at the club when Tomas said he had angered a powerful person who was supposed to depart for some other place far, far away. The chance meeting with De Luca on the beach and his demeaning manner toward Tomas. Amelia acting like she didn’t know who Tomas was. Tomas walking out on me. The two goons that came here today to threaten him. What’s the thread that connects it all?

  I have a million questions for Tomas but he cuts me short as fast as he can. “I really have to go, Taylor. I don’t know when I’ll be back but I’ll call you every day, okay?”

  “Where are you going? De Luca’s?”

  “Eventually, but there’s something else I have to take care of first.”

  “What is that?”

  He shakes his head. “You know I’m not going to tell you.”

  Yes, I know it all too well. He’s never lied or tried to hide who he is from me. Well, with the exception of all the sweet nothings he whispered in my ear when he was making love to me.

  I ended up doing exactly what I wanted to avoid: I became a number on his list of broken hearts. It’s not like he didn’t warn me. At least I can take comfort in the fact that he still wants to be my friend and shows an active interest in me.

  “I’m going to hit the shower before I go,” he says, putting the ice pack back in the freezer.

  He heads for the stairs but changes his mind. He comes to me, taking my hand in his. “There aren’t enough lives for me to tell you how sorry I am,” he says, and I don’t know if he means the violence and the gun or leading me on.

  He leans in and I jerk my head back, caught unawares. His green pupils turn darker like deep, turbulent waters. He tilts his head to the side as his lips dive for my mouth. They change their course suddenly and end up on my cheek. This intimacy misfire with him is unbearable.

  I stare at his back like an idiot as he walks away. For a second or two I’m tempted to step into the shower naked just to see his reaction. Will he get pissed at me and ask me to leave? Will he get a hard-on but tell me to go anyway? Or will he give in to temptation and take me in his arms to give me the supreme fuck that I obviously need and crave?

  I shake my head, terribly disappointed in myself. Let’s look at it this way: he desperately needs to be free and wild, while I’m trying to create bonds and ropes for him. Maybe it’s me who’s messed up.

  Let it go, Taylor, I whisper to myself as I hear the bathroom door open. Then I hear his footsteps as he hurries to his room to change. That’s it, he’ll never be mine even though I’d be his in a heartbeat.

  He finds me sitting at the kitchen table staring at the loaded gun. “Jesus, let me get this fucking thing out of here,” he says, picking it up. He points the gun to the floor in the opposite direction of me and then pulls the magazine out. He grasps the rear of the slide and pulls it back sharply and the cartridge comes out. He has done this before, more than once.

  He wears his favorite burgundy T-shirt and black jeans. His hair is wet and combed back. He darts his eyes at me and I see concern in them. “Will you be okay?” he says. “You should meet up with everyone at the pier, go out, have fun, Taylor.”

  “If it gets worse…” I say, pointing at his nose.

  “I’ll go to a medical center, I promise,” he finishes my sentence for me.

  I wish I didn’t feel so terribly awkward when he hands me the keys to the car, brushing his fingers against mine.

  “What about you?” I say.

  “I got a motorcycle,” he says.

  I don’t even want to ask how he got it or when. I watch his back as he rides off to what could be his very end.

  Everything is meaningless, horrible. I don’t want to have such gloomy thoughts but how am I supposed to get over the fact that some lowlifes are after him? I’m not sure I can be positive with this uncertainty or with my growing feelings for him neatly tucked away.

  I was right when I told him I should just go back to LA to get him out of my system. It would be so easy for me to love him. Maybe I already do. The thought scares me. I decide to forget it as much as possible while getting dressed for an impromptu drive along the coast.

  Chapter 12

  Sophia waves at me, smiling in the most welcoming manner. She’s dressed in a very flattering halter top summer dress and white wedge sandals almost five inches high. Both the dress and the sandals compliment her thin, tanned legs wonderfully.

  I can’t say I was entirely surprised when she called and asked if I would meet her at the village, but the place she chose for our little rendezvous wasn’t exactly what I would have expected: an open-air, loud and crowded farmers’ market on the main village street.

  I have my suspicions about the reason she called today to meet. Two distinct possibilities pop up: she either wants to pump me for information on Tomas or Tomas himself has asked her to take me out so I can have some fun. Of course, the third possibility would be that this is an agenda-free meeting but I’m not in the mood for thinking nicely about people today.

  Sophia and I kiss each other on both cheeks as is the custom in Greece when friends or relatives meet.

  “I hope this isn’t very strange for you,” Sophia says. “I thought it would be good for you to see this before you leave.”

  My paranoia urges me to ask her what makes her think I will be leaving soon but finally my good sense kicks in, reassuring me the poor girl is just trying to make conversation. I am a tourist after all, only here for the duration of the summer.

  “I’m glad you asked me here,” I say. “It’s definitely colorful.”

  “We call it laiki agora,” Sophia informs me. “The people’s market.”

  “Cool. We’d call it a farmers’ market in the States.”

  “Everyone here is a farmer,” Sophia says laughing. “Or a fisherman.”

  “That’s not true about younger people though.”

  “No, young people learn different professions but most of them have to move to bigger towns and cities to find work. And then they come back on holidays.”

  Sometimes it’s hard to remember that people have their own
everyday lives and struggles and that the world doesn’t revolve around our personal dramas.

  “I used to drag my friend Grace to the Farmers Market in LA,” I tell Sophia. “She’d give me a lecture about why it wasn’t a real farmers’ market.”

  It definitely isn’t anything like what I’m seeing now. This laiki agora is a totally different kind of animal. There are rows of stands and benches across both sides of the street, filled with potatoes, tomatoes, cucumbers, greens, summer fruits, eggs, whole fish, nuts, olives, pastries and even living baby chickens and ducklings.

  The farmers and vendors are calling out to passersby to come and try their goods and products. They even grab you by the arm to convince you to take a look.

  Most of the women pull small shopping carts behind them made of wire or fabric which they fill to the brim.

  We walk down the street, being squeezed more than once by restless shoppers trying to get to a favored stand that offers better prices or fresher produce or both.

  “Did you have enough yet?” Sophia says, laughing, when an old lady steps on my toe and pushes me to the side to get me out of her way.

  “More than enough,” I say, “but before we go, I’d like some of those sinful cherries over there.”

  “Sure, come along,” Sophia says, leading the way to the stand. She takes a plastic bag and fills it up with cherries before she hands it to the vendor, a dark-haired man in his early thirties, who proceeds to put it on the scale. Sophia pays with cash but as the vendor gives her the change, they embark on some banter which includes several glances at me.

  “What was that all about?” I ask Sophia when we finally walk away.

  “He thought you were too beautiful,” she says, giggling. “He wanted me to ask you to meet him tonight at the taverna down the street.”

  “You’re making it up,” I say in disbelief.

  “No, I swear. I told him you were married or he’d never stop. Greeks can be very persistent as you know.”

  Her last comment makes me wonder if she means Adrian is persistent in his pursuit of me. But the truth is he hasn’t been all that persistent lately.

  Sophia takes me to a nearby café called Status. I can never get over the names of coffee places and restaurants on the island; anything from Traditional to Impossible to Delicious.

  We sit at a table in the café’s courtyard beneath the shade of a gigantic plane tree. There is a group of high school students on the other side of the courtyard as well as two older ladies with their empty shopping carts. They haven’t been to laiki agora yet.

  A cute waitress asks something in Greek.

  Sophia turns to me. “Drink, pastry, ice cream?”

  “I’ll have some orange juice and a slice of that frozen chocolate pastry we had the other day. The one with the crumbled cookies.”

  “Mosaiko,” Sophia says excited. “I’ll have that, too.” She turns to the waitress to relay the order in Greek.

  “You know, I didn’t have any sugary treats for many years,” I say, unsure of why I’m bringing this up now.

  Sophia’s eyes widen with bewilderment. “Why would you do that? Were you a prisoner? Now that you’re here, we’ll fix you.”

  I laugh. Lord knows I need to be fixed. I’ve completely lost my mojo. I used to tease Grace about that but life’s a bitch and what goes around comes around. Yada, yada. “What are your plans for tonight?” I ask.

  “Tonight I’ll stay in and reply to emails from my friends in Athens but tomorrow I’m going out to eat with my sister and Demetris, they’ve been asking me forever.”

  “That sounds nice.”

  “Do you want to join us?”

  “Oh, no, don’t worry about me.”

  “You should come,” Sophia says. “I can invite Adrian, too.”

  There we go. I should have known she’d find a way to bring him into the conversation. Does it seem like I’m interested in him? “I have plans,” I say, as politely as I can.

  “With Tomas?” she says after some hesitation.

  “No, not with Tomas.”

  For a few seconds, I think she’ll ask me about my plans but I’m saved when the waitress arrives with our pastries and drinks.

  “Mmm,” I say, taking a bite off my mosaiko, “that’s delicious. I need to get the recipe for that.”

  “It’s very easy to make,” Sophia says.

  I have to admit, I didn’t think she was capable of being so friendly and laidback. Maybe she has decided Tomas is not interested in me and, as sure as hell, I don’t plan on telling her otherwise.

  “Adrian says Tomas isn’t in the house or the village,” she goes on, putting some pastry in her mouth.

  “Does Adrian inform you of everything Tomas and I do?” I say, immediately regretting my slightly annoyed tone.

  “He’s just anxious to find him,” Sophia says. “He needs help with his project and Tomas said he would help.”

  She’s so nice about it I feel like a complete bitch. “What project is that?” I say, sweetly.

  “Part of his charity work.”

  “His charity work?”

  “You don’t know about it?”

  I shake my head. I have no idea what she’s talking about.

  “Adrian is a medical student, I told you that. He has joined a group that offers free medical services to poor, unemployed and homeless people. They give them medicines and even food and things like blankets. They have a van and drive around the island to get these things to those in need.”

  I’m stunned and for the first time in months it’s in a good way. Adrian is more than an empty-headed, shallow student who happens to be hot. He actually does things that matter. Who would have thought it? “So, Tomas said he’d help?”

  “Yes, Adrian’s partner who was supposed to go on the next trip got sick and Tomas offered to replace him.”

  “Wow,” I say, “I didn’t know any of this. Nobody tells me anything.”

  “Maybe you need to be more open with people,” she says and then covers her mouth. “I’m sorry. Does that offend you?”

  This is how people here see me—a cold bitch who keeps to herself. The only reason they’re friendly with me is because of Tomas. “I’m not offended,” I say, reaching over to squeeze Sophia’s hand.

  My little gesture of goodwill makes her smile. “You should give him a try, you know?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Adrian. He has his flaws but he’s a good guy. And he’s falling for you.”

  “C’mon, Sophia, we barely know each other.”

  Sophia’s face gets all serious now. “We don’t fall in love with those we know too well,” she says. “Love likes mystery.”

  I nod. “The missing piece of the puzzle,” I say. “That’s what my cousin from Las Vegas once told me. She told me it’s what’s missing that attracts us more than what can be seen.”

  “She sounds like a wise person,” Sophia says.

  “Well, she was a cocktail waitress and now she’s a black jack dealer,” I inform her.

  “At the casinos?” Sophia says a little confused.

  “Right,” I say. “Black jack dealers are wise. It’s true. They’re like bartenders or hairstylists. They have all the answers.”

  “It’s true,” Sophia agrees. “My Aunt Melita cuts hair and I won’t make any major decisions without her old-fashioned advice.”

  We smile and gobble down our mosaiko. I relax for the first time in days. Girlfriends are supposed to challenge us. They keep us honest. Maybe Sophia’s right. Maybe I’ve taken too many things for granted. Tomas presents a riddle which makes it impossible for me to stop thinking about him. What a joke life can be. It can trick us in so many ways.

  “Love likes mystery,” I repeat out loud.

  She nods. “I know that’s true. Aunt Melita was the one who told me this. If she says it to me, it is like reading it in the bible.”

  “Ah, the lost gospel of Melita,” I joke. “Finally a woman’s perspective
.”

  We laugh and I realize I am tired of being guarded with her and with Adrian. I want to treat everyone like they are Grace. I don’t trust people easily. I’ve always kept my circle of friends small for that reason. No more. Taylor’s letting her hair down.

  “Adrian’s not bad at all, Taylor. Maybe we could all go out tomorrow,” Sophia says.

  “I want to get to know you guys better, but this is my Zen vacation. Nothing is less Zen than dating. Let’s just have fun.”

  Zen my ass, but she doesn’t have to know that. For all she knows, I’m this cool, mysterious American girl, one of those intolerable debutantes, who can afford to stay abroad for an entire summer.

  “I get it,” she says. “And Tomas? Is he expected back?”

  “To have expectations regarding Tomas is like dancing with a hurricane,” I say having no idea what the hell I mean.

  “Oh,” she says looking a little hurt.

  I sigh, feeling horrible all of the sudden. “It’s possible he will change,” I offer. “This summer was supposed to be his Zen summer as well.”

  A flash of hope returns to her delicate features. My bullshit seems to have worked decently. “We are all discoverers,” she says.

  Right. Her words are as meaningless as mine. I feel better.

  I’m considering backing out of this possible hangout date when my phone rings. I take it out of my purse and check the number. It’s him, Tomas. Finally, one thing he didn’t lie about.

  My finger lingers over the answer button and then hits ignore.

  We only live once and we have to take advantage of each day. Love can be a deep sorrow or it can be a flooding light. The right love can fill up our empty souls and make them into beautiful vessels of eternity. The wrong love can destroy you fiber by fiber. You can linger in that destruction too long and the rest of your life will pass right by you.

  “Let’s do it,” I tell Sophia, smiling. “Where’s the taverna you’re going to tomorrow night? I can meet you there.”

  ***

  The soft breeze makes the aromatic candles I’ve strategically placed on the railing around the porch flicker. I managed to stay out all day, first with Sophia and then with Mark and Haley, the Australian couple Tomas hangs out with sometimes. I ran into them outside a fish tavern and we ended up having shrimp and prawns with the local alcoholic beverage called ouzo. The interesting thing with ouzo is that even though it’s clear like water when actually mixed with water, it turns into an opaque white which is how it is consumed usually.