by Mia Knight
Lyla stiffened. “Excuse me?”
“I’ll take Beau and Honey.”
“You can’t take Beau. He’s mine.”
“But Honey needs him.”
“Then I will take both of them.”
“But I just got her.”
“And she wasn’t happy. You can adopt another dog.”
“You’re gonna take my dog?” she asked, outraged.
Lyla glared at her. “You bring something into my house, they’re fair game. Isn’t that the Pyre way? Claim what I want?”
“Gavin’s not a crime lord anymore.”
“So?”
“Fine. You can have Honey. It’s just … I was hoping I would be the one to help her.”
“You did. You found her the right family. I was thinking about finding Beau a friend anyway, so this is perfect.”
Carmen drove across town as the sun began to set. Honey picked a new home, and it wasn’t with her. Her fantasies of going on the road with Honey in the passenger seat disappeared in a puff of smoke. Lyla was right. It was best for Beau and Honey to be together, but she had been looking forward to having a companion. This was just another thing that didn’t pan out. She parked in the garage, walked in the house, and paused to take it all in.
Her style had always been over the top, bold, and a mishmash of different elements. Nothing had changed. Pops of color meshed with metallic gold or white. Each room made a statement and was filled with knickknacks from her travels, one-of-a-kind art, and love. Marcus didn’t know it, but his house held a quarter of a million dollars’ worth of art. She wasn’t about to tell him that since he would probably freak out. Art wasn’t supposed to be admired but experienced. She was having a painter come by next week to paint a wall mural of the ocean in his office. Maybe if Marcus saw it enough, he’d feel the urge to see it in person.
Nothing had been left untouched. The empty rooms had been filled with furniture, and all of Marcus’s boxes had been emptied and tidily put away. His office had been made into the ultimate man cave. She couldn’t wait to see his reaction. She was a little disappointed that he hadn’t visited, but even during their short conversations, people were always interrupting. He was hella busy. It hadn’t been that way with Vinny. Back then, everything had been on automatic, and Gavin was in control. Now, Marcus handled most of the load and with all his new business endeavors and expansions, Pyre Casinos was busier than ever.
She walked down the hallway lined with dreamy oil paintings of land and cityscapes. The master bedroom had a gold, black, and red theme. It was a sultry haven she was proud of. She sat on a chaise lounge to unzip her sandals and strip. While the tub filled with water, she walked to the kitchen and poured herself a glass of chilled white wine. She drank while 90s R&B bounced off the walls and she soaked. She was building brand-new memories here, and therefore, everything felt warm, comfy, and new—exactly what she needed.
When she finished, she pulled on her silk robe from the life-size geisha standing guard in front of her closet. She refilled her glass and climbed into bed. She played Psych on the brand-new massive flat screen mounted on the wall and opened her laptop. She laughed at Shawn’s shenanigans as she clicked through her bank statements and checked her stocks and other business investments. She checked in with Kiki and several other local business partners who ranged from a local pizza parlor to helicopter rides along The Strip. When she had enough of business for the day, she set the laptop aside and called Maddie.
“I’m watching Shawn and Gus,” she said.
Maddie laughed. “I’m re-watching season four.”
“You want to come over?”
“I can’t. I have a test tomorrow morning.”
“On a Saturday?”
“Yes, it’s my only class. I’ll be free after that, though.”
“Okay, I’ll think of something.”
“What happened with you and the COO?”
“You mean Marcus?”
“Yes.” A pause and then, “He seems really nice.”
“He is.”
Marcus was definitely a puzzle she wanted to explore but was trying not to. They were friends with benefits, which nixed deep, meaningful conversations and emotions. But what he revealed the other night had been on her mind all week. It didn’t make sense for Marcus to come from such a background because he emerged from the ghetto unscathed. There was no sign of it on the surface, which meant something was internal that she couldn’t see. She hoped he had major flaws because he was almost too perfect to be real. She was missing something about him, and it was bothering the hell out of her.
“He seemed … upset?” Maddie hedged.
“Just a little.”
“Levi said you two were probably low-key dating.”
Carmen snickered. “I like that. Low-key dating. No, we’re not dating, just banging.”
Silence on the other end. “You’re sleeping with him?”
“We’re friends.”
“Oh.”
“He’s really nice. If you’re interested in an internship, he’ll hook you up. He’s good at what he does.”
“Okay,” Maddie drawled. “I’ll do that.”
“Okay, Smarty, I’ll let you study.”
“Okay, bye.”
“Bye.” She shook her head as she called Mom. “Hey.”
“Hey, baby. The house looks fantastic.”
Carmen looked around the room. “It does.”
“How you been? How’s your new baby?”
“She wasn’t doing good with me, but she came alive when she met Beau, so Lyla took her.”
“Oh, no. Are you gonna adopt another?”
“I don’t know. I felt like I couldn’t really go anywhere since I didn’t want Honey home alone. Maybe I’ll wait a while and see.”
“That sounds good.”
“I just talked to Maddie. I’m hoping we can do something together tomorrow. You know, sister time.”
“Carmen.” Mom took an audible breath on the other end. “That makes me so happy.”
“I know. She’s a good kid. I like her.” She tipped her foot from side to side. “What are we gonna do about the house? Neither of us are there now.”
“It’s up to you. Marv and I have cleared out almost everything.”
“You want me to take care of it? Sell it?” It would be official—letting go of the past.
“Are you okay with that?”
“I have this place, and even if I have to move later, I can always find something.”
“Okay, well, if you need me to help, just let me know.”
“I will.”
“I’m so happy, Carmen.”
Her heart lightened. “I know you are. I’m happy for you too.”
“I didn’t think I could be happy again after your dad died, but I am. You can too, Carmen. I think you’re on your way there.”
She cleared her throat. “Yes, I feel better now that I’m settled, and I have Marcus on tap.”
“He’s good in bed?”
“Better than good.”
“He’s compatible with you?”
“Very.”
“I always liked that boy.”
Carmen laughed. “I know you have. I just wanted to check in.”
“Yes, thanks for calling, baby. Marv says hi. We’re going out dancing with friends.”
“That sounds great. I think I’m going to turn in early tonight.”
“You do that. You’ve been working hard all week. I’m proud of you, Carmen.”
“Thanks, Mom. Have fun tonight. I’ll talk to you later. Love you.”
“I love you more. Sweet dreams.”
19
Three Years Ago
He should have been home hours ago. Carmen paced around the living room with her phone in hand, willing it to ring. She’d called Vinny twenty-three times. His phone had long stopped ringing and now just went straight to voicemail. Maybe he forgot to charge it. He called her six hours ago and said he had one meet
ing and then he would be home. She dressed in new lingerie and waited … and waited. She was tempted to call Gavin, but she couldn’t show him how worried she was. She insisted Vinny get the position, and now she had to live with it.
A tight ball of dread was in her stomach. This was so unlike him. He wasn’t the type not to call to let her know he’d be out longer, and he wasn’t the type to forget to charge his phone. He was compulsive about things like that. Is this what her life would be like now? Long nights waiting up for him? How did Mom do this?
A knock on the door stopped her in her tracks. Maybe Vinny got in touch with one of the guards, and he wasn’t sure if she was awake. She rushed to the front door and opened it. Gavin and Lyla stood on her front step. She was vaguely aware of SUVs parked in her driveway and the unusual amount of security milling around. It took her a split second to take this in, but her eyes were riveted to Gavin. She knew him long enough to know something was very wrong. The light cast his face into stark relief. His hazel eyes were fixed on her, unwavering, trying to communicate something … There was only one reason he would be on her doorstep at this hour, only one reason he would be staring at her with a mixture of pity and rage.
Her heart stopped. Color bled out of her world, and her mind immediately latched onto denial. She stepped back, shaking her head.
Gavin reached for her. “I’m sorry, Carmen.”
“No!” His hollow apology echoed in her head. This couldn’t be happening. It wasn’t possible. “No! Don’t say it.”
“I’ll find who did this and—”
His placid calm ripped at her. She launched herself at him and beat her fists against his chest. “You promised me, Gavin!”
Someone pulled her back, but she wasn’t finished with him. She lashed out and was nowhere near satisfied when her open palm cracked against his cheek. She ripped herself away from whoever was tugging on her. She didn’t want to be touched. She reached for the closest object and hurled it at the wall. The sound of smashing glass was so satisfying that she grabbed something else and then another. She embraced fury and denial because she couldn’t handle the guilt ripping her soul to shreds. This was her fault. If she hadn’t convinced Gavin to … She picked up another object. She didn’t care what it was because it could be destroyed, and that was all that mattered. She maimed, slashed, stomped, and demolished everything she could get her hands on. Art she worked so hard to acquire and preserve wasn’t safe from her. Her life, her perfect, beautiful live was shattered and so was she.
She saw an iron poker and swung it at a statue. The statue weighed a ton and didn’t move when she attacked. She felt the impact reverberate up her arms, but she didn’t stop. Her hands were numb, and she was out of breath, but she didn’t stop waging war.
A sharp, stabbing pain broke through her rage. She whirled to kill her assailant. The poker was wrenched from her hands with such force that she landed on her hands and knees. She panted as her limbs began to feel weighted down and unresponsive. As if from a long way off, she heard the burble of voices but couldn’t make out the words. She stared down at her hands, at the diamond ring on her left finger. No Vinny. No husband. No future. Nothing.
“He can’t be gone,” she whispered. “I can’t live without him.”
Gentle hands stroked her face. “I’m so sorry,” Lyla said.
Her eyes slid shut against her will. She felt herself being lifted. She tried to fight, but her body didn’t obey. She forced her eyes open and saw Blade’s ugly mug instead of Gavin’s and let her eyes slide shut again. He set her on a soft bed, and her limbs flopped uselessly around her. She lay on her side, staring straight ahead as tears leaked out of her eyes. Vinny was dead. She would never see him again. How did he die? No, she couldn’t handle that. Did she kiss him before he went to work this morning? She couldn’t remember. She and Lyla went shopping for a wedding dress today and now … now, Vinny was gone.
A warm, wet washcloth wiped her sweaty, tear-streaked face. Fresh tears replaced the ones Lyla wiped away. As the full ramifications hit her, she began to shake. Lyla climbed into bed and hugged her tight. She grabbed fistfuls of her clothes because she needed something to hold and began to sob her heart out. Lyla’s voice was soothing, but it couldn’t penetrate the pain that engulfed her.
Vinny was gone. She killed him.
20
Carmen woke with her face wet with tears and her heart threatening to explode. She lashed out and heard something crash to the floor. She threw her head back and screamed before she dropped her face on her knees and sobbed as hard as she had the night she lost him. She rocked as she tried to contain her emotions. The sound of her pathetic whimpering filled the room.
Vinny was her everything. Aside from her parents and Lyla, no one had ever accepted her as she was. Vinny understood her moods and impulses better than she did. He handled her far better than her parents ever had and didn’t try to curb her wild ways. He allowed her to run free, knowing she would come back to him. He was her anchor, her everything, and he was gone along with her father, the only other man who loved her unreservedly.
She reached for her phone to call … who? A glance at the clock revealed she’d only been asleep two hours. Mom was out dancing, Lyla was with Nora and Gavin, Maddie would have no idea what to do with her, and Alice would probably give her a pint of ice cream and suggest they watch HGTV. That wouldn’t curb what was going on inside her. She wanted to rage, to scream, to curl into a ball and die. She wanted to jump out of a plane, race headlong at another car to see who would swerve out of the way, or strip on stage to cast out her demons and give them to someone else. She needed something to draw her out of the darkness or it would forever consume her.
It took her several tries to find Marcus’s number since her hands were trembling and she couldn’t see through the tears. When the phone began to ring, she rolled out of bed and paced, one hand flapping to keep herself from completely losing her shit.
“Hey, babe,” Marcus said.
Just the sound of his calm, soothing voice made the pain lessen. She clutched the phone with both hands. “I need a purge.”
“What?”
“I-I need …” What did she need? She needed to lose herself in something, anything to take her mind off the memories stabbing at her. Sex was the best antidote. Touch, adrenaline, oblivion. Yes, sex. She needed it so bad, she was shaking. She wanted it rough and dirty. “I need a fuck.”
There was a short pause. She stopped in the middle of the room and closed her eyes, tears streaming down her face, silently pleading for him to say what she needed to hear. She couldn’t be alone right now. He couldn’t leave her like this, but if she told him how fucked up she was, he would definitely avoid her at all costs.
“Can you come to me?”
Relief so heady that she became lightheaded made her bend over at the waist. She attempted to sound normal as she said, “Yes, I can.”
“There are several events going on tonight, and I’m not sure how long I’ll be. You can attend with me, and then we’ll leave when we can.”
Knowing ecstasy and oblivion were in her near future allowed her to think past the pain. “Yes, I can do that.”
“You okay?”
No. “Yes.”
“Come to me.”
“I will. I’ll get ready now.”
“See you soon.”
She hung up and flipped on the bedroom light. A lamp with a gold base lay shattered beside the bed. She ignored it and went into the bathroom. She splashed cold water on her face and sprayed a cooling mist over her swollen eyes and fanned her face. Her desolate reflection was familiar. Too familiar. She hated herself. The empty wineglass was filled with ice and Crown Royal this time. She sat at her vanity and placed the chilled glass against her eye.
No! Don’t say it.
She flinched as the memory of her heartbroken voice echoed in her ears. She shot to her feet and tore through the bedroom until she found her earphones. Noise cancelling earphones blocke
d out everything but the sound of her racing heartbeat. She blasted the most “don’t give a fuck” music she had. Cardi B was up first. She clung to the dark beat and vibe with the desperation of a drowning woman. She said the lyrics with an intensity Cardi B would have been proud of. She ignored the agony and forced herself to move to encapsulate the mood.
She planted her hands on the vanity and examined the woman in the mirror. The chilled whiskey helped with the swelling and redness. Her mouth was set, eyes glistening, but she refused to let another tear fall. She suffered every day for almost three years. It had to stop. She tipped her head up when she felt tears crawling up her throat.
“Don’t cry, don’t cry,” she chanted but couldn’t hear herself over the music.
She blew out a breath and let Eminem’s attitude seep into her. When she had herself under control, she sat on the vanity bench made up of two snarling lions she had rescued from storage. Through the power of makeup, she could become whoever she wanted. She painted herself into a character who showed no sign that she possessed a hemorrhaging heart with a busted a stitch that was bleeding out with every beat. With every layer of makeup, she became less herself and more the character she wanted to emulate.
Forty minutes later, the sultry badass bitch in the mirror bore no resemblance to the out of control one who wanted to curl up in a ball and die. She wore a crimson velvet sleeveless dress with a high neck. It was skintight, rode high on her upper thighs, and showed off her slight curves. She was decked out in diamonds from her glittering stilettos to the bracelet and rings decorating every finger. It was extra as fuck, but that was who she was. Her smoky wing tipped eye and matte, wine-colored lip was perfection. She was so deep in character that she didn’t feel anything. It was a relief, but she knew the reprieve wouldn’t last forever. Hopefully, Marcus worked his magic before the stroke of midnight and she became herself again and shattered into a million pieces. A black velvet clutch completed the look. She filled it with necessities—cell phone, lipstick, gun.