Ciro’s Promise: A Bad Boy Mob Romance (Santora Mafia) (The Outlaw’s Oath Collection Book 1)

by Nicole Fox

  “Who is it?” I called, trying to sound as normal as possible. I wished desperately for someone to bust down the door and save me, but I didn’t dare give Joe the chance to hurt Christopher.

  “It’s Maggie, dear. I found Christopher’s teddy bear.” Her voice was thin and uncertain. I could almost see her standing in the hall in her thin robe, her skeletal fingers clutching at the neckline for modesty.

  Joe’s eyes narrowed and he shook his head.

  “Um, you can just leave it outside. I’m, uh, not dressed at the moment.”

  A silent moment hung in the air. “Are you all right? I thought I heard some commotion a bit ago.”

  I had no choice. Even if I took the risk of telling Maggie, she was too old and feeble to have done anything about it besides shamble away to call the police. She had stopped Joe for the moment, but she wasn’t to be my savior. “Yes, I’m fine. Thanks. I just dropped some dishes.”

  “Okay, dear. Have a good night.” Her slippered feet shuffled back down the hallway. I never would have heard them otherwise, but at that moment it was as though every noise was amplified. Even the blood rushing through my ears sounded liking a rushing river. The two of us waited there, frozen on the floor like some strange erotic painting, while the apartment building once again descended into silence.

  He shoved himself off me and zipped up his pants. “You’re lucky. I don’t feel like it tonight. But I’m not going to let you get away with this. You fucked around on me, Sophia. Nobody does that to Joe Pitera.”

  I yanked my pants back on, angry, frustrated, and scared. “But I guess Joe Pitera can do whatever he wants?” I stood, but kept my distance from him, eyeing the place for anything I might be able to use as a weapon.

  “You say word one to the cops, and I’ll come right back here and kill the both of you,” he growled, his finger pointing at my chest. “I’m not going to lose my job over some slut bitch who can’t keep her mouth shut.” He tightened his belt and was out the door in a second.

  I stood immobile for a long minute, listening to his heavy boots as they pounded down the stairs and outside. His car screeched against the asphalt as he peeled off into the night. Even so, I waited with every nerve tingling for him to return, angry with himself for not following through on his intentions.

  Finally, when I could accept that he was truly gone, my legs gave out underneath me. I fell to the floor. Pulling my arms and legs around me until I was as small as I could make myself, I cried silently. I cried for the years I had spent with that terrible man. I cried for whatever woman might be dumb enough to be with him in the future. I cried for the danger that I was not yet out of. Most of all, I cried for Christopher and the fact that the man he thought of as his father was such a horrible monster.

  Chapter Eight

  Sophia

  “Where are we going, Mommy?” Christopher’s innocent voice, so sweet and cherubic, grated against my skin. Every nerve I had was shot.

  How could I explain this all to him? I couldn’t. The less he knew, the better. “We’re just going to take a mini vacation, sweetie. That’s all.” I stood in front of his dresser, an open gym bag at my feet as I emptied his most essential items into it.

  “Where are we going? My friend Billy at the park said his mommy and daddy went to Mexico. Are we going to Mexico?”

  I nearly cried at the question. How nice it would be if we could just leave the country for a while! But I had only a small wad of cash from my tips nestled at the bottom of my purse, and it wouldn’t even be enough for us to drive to the border. “No, honey. I was thinking maybe a hotel or something.” Finished with his drawers, I gathered up his favorite stuffed animals and books. I zipped up the bag and frowned. His whole life fit into one little bag.

  “Oh, will it have a pool? I want to go swimming! I’ll help, Mommy. I’ll get my swim trunks!” He jumped forward to dig around in the bottom drawer.

  I opened my mouth to stop him, but I closed it again. I didn’t know where we would be going, exactly, and if the poor kid had the chance to swim, then I wasn’t going to deny him. I opened the bag for him to put his trunks inside. “Okay. I have to go pack a few things for myself now. Why don’t you go watch television?”

  With two lonely bags in the trunk of my car, I stood in the doorway of the apartment and looked at it for a moment. I had no way of knowing if I would ever get a chance to come back. There wasn’t anything there that I couldn’t live without. I had Christopher’s baby pictures and the thin, gold necklace my grandmother had given me. Most of all, I had Christopher himself. My charity-shop furniture and consignment-store clothes could always be replaced. But this place would always be where Christopher and I first got our start into the world together without Joe. Too bad it hadn’t gone the way I’d hoped.

  I bustled my son out to the car and headed for the city limits, racking my brain. I had to get a hotel that was cheap enough that I could afford to stay there for several nights, but not so cheap that it wasn’t safe. I’d have to find a new job, maybe one where a sympathetic boss would even let me use a different name on my name tag. Maybe I could dye my hair. I didn’t know anything about getting a fake identity, but I had to become someone else. Joe would never leave me alone otherwise.

  Christopher chattered away endlessly from the back seat. “It’s so nice of you to take me on vacation, Mommy. I’ve never been on vacation before. Have you?”

  “No, baby.” I murmured the appropriate responses the best I could while I calculated for food, shelter, and anything else we might need. Had I made the right decision in leaving? Should I have stayed, maybe bought a cheap gun, and stood my ground against Joe? It would have been worth it if it was just me. The worst he could do was kill me. He would be caught eventually. But I had Christopher. I couldn’t risk his little life—not with a man like that. There was no telling what Joe might do if he got to him.

  “You know who I want to play with?” asked that voice from the backseat. “Your friend Zero. He was nice. Maybe we can buy some graham crackers and ask him if he wants to visit us on vacation.”

  “Zero?” I concentrated on the road signs, not really knowing where I was going, but feeling as though I needed to navigate anyway. “Oh, Ciro?” I slammed on the brakes and pulled off the side of the road.

  “What’s wrong, Mommy? Did you hit someone?”

  I snatched my purse from the passenger seat and dug frantically through it, flinging aside a hairbrush, receipts, and a small package of baby wipes. Had I brought it with me? Had it been one of the many things I’d left behind? Finally, I found the business card Ciro had left when he’d come to the apartment. Of course! Why hadn’t I thought of it? Scanning the address, I put the car back in drive and turned it around.

  “Aren’t we still going on vacation?” Christopher struggled to see out the window.

  I bit my lip and nodded. “I think so, but it’s going to have to wait just a moment. I think you had a good idea, buddy. I’m going to see if I can find my friend, Ciro. He might not be able to come with us, but maybe we can visit him for a little bit.”

  “Yay!”

  I hoped desperately that I could reach him. I thought about calling him, but I wasn’t convinced that Joe didn’t have some way of tracking my phone calls. And Ciro had said to get a hold of him if I needed anything. Christopher was his son, after all. Maybe he could give me a little bit of money. Hell, he was with the mafia. Maybe he could give me a new identity.

  Ciro’s address was on Arcadia Avenue. Though I knew where it was, I hadn’t been in that part of town in a long time. As I watched the gorgeous houses drift by, I understood why. Ciro lived in an entirely different world than I did. Joe and I might have been invited to fancy parties at Tonio Santora’s house, but we weren’t like that now. We were the kind of low-class folks who had to deal with making ends meet and domestic abuse. Ciro, meanwhile, only had to worry about paying the gardener.

  My stomach dropped as I pulled up to the curb and double-checked t
he address. It was not as big as his father’s mansion, but the place was still massive compared to the little hovel of an apartment I had just left. A brick and stone edifice with a wide oak door and impeccable landscaping, it made me realize that I had made a mistake. Genetics didn’t play any part in it. Just because Ciro was the biological father of my son didn’t give me any right to come running to him with my problems. But Joe had threatened Christopher’s life as well. This was the best chance I could give my boy.

  “Is this a hotel?” Christopher asked as I opened his door and unbuckled him. “It’s big.”

  “No, sweetie, it isn’t.” I took his soft, little hand and walked up to the front door like Dorothy approaching the wizard, scared and yet hopeful.

  The door opened before we even got up onto the porch. Ciro stood there, looking at us with concern in his eyes. “Sophia …” He strode forward and brought his big hand up to my face, his thumb caressing my cheek. “What happened?”

  With a start, I realized what he was seeing. Joe’s backhand had left a bruise across the bridge of my nose and on my browbone. My cheek was swollen and purple where his knuckles had ground into it. I hadn’t bothered putting on any makeup that morning; I’d been too busy just trying to get out the door before Joe woke up and decided to come back. “I, um, I’d like to talk to you for a minute.” Tears threated to come to my eyes once again, and I swallowed hard to keep them at bay.

  The side of his neck throbbed with his pulse. He glanced down at Christopher, and his demeanor completely changed. He smiled as he bent down to Christopher’s level. “Hey, buddy. Why don’t you guys come inside for a little bit? I just went grocery shopping the other day, and I need someone to help me eat it all. Are you hungry?”

  “Always!” He eagerly followed Ciro into the house.

  The front room of Ciro’s place was cozy and warm. A massive, stone fireplace stood at one end, not lit in the late summer heat. It was flanked by wingchairs and leather sofas, which stood around an old and very expensive rug. The scent of sandalwood and musk hung in the air. It was definitely a man’s house.

  As I stepped inside, my eyes locked with an older woman standing in the kitchen doorway. She had much lighter hair than Ciro, but it was clear that she was where most of his looks had come from. Tall, slim, and yet welcoming, she watched me with an intense curiosity and sympathy. I hardly noticed the gleaming wood floors or the heavy beams across the ceiling. The weight of her gaze was enough to keep me transfixed.

  “Mom, this is Sophia. And this is her son, Christopher. This is my mother, Carlita. Mom, I think Christopher could use a snack, if you don’t mind.”

  The older woman’s eyes dropped to Christopher and widened. “Oh.” She looked up at Ciro, and then back at the boy again, instantly making the connection it had taken Joe five years to realize. “Oh, I see. Why don’t you come with me, my dear? We’ll have some food while your mommy and Ciro talk.” She held out her hand.

  Christopher ran forward and took it, easily comforted by the grandmotherly figure. Carlita gave Ciro and I each a look of concern and curiosity before disappearing into the kitchen.

  “Come here.” Ciro crossed the room and put his arms around me. I melted into his chest. “What happened, Sophia? And don’t hold back on me this time. I need to know everything.”

  I pulled back and wiped at my eyes. “I’m sorry. I feel so bad for showing up on your doorstep like this. But I need to get out of town. I don’t think I have enough money to keep us until I get a new job. I don’t want to ask for money, but if you could just front me a little bit, I’ll be sure to pay you back as soon as—”

  “No.” Ciro seated me in an armchair in front of a large, stone fireplace and turned to a bar that ran down one side of the room. He poured a shot of whiskey and handed it to me.

  Confused, I tried to push the drink away. “It’s only midmorning, and I have to drive.”

  He put it in my hand. “You need it, and you aren’t driving anywhere. I’m not letting you and Christopher stay in a hotel. I don’t know what’s happening, but it’s clear you’re in some sort of trouble. You’ll stay right here with me, where I know you’re safe.”

  “I can’t do that. I can’t impose on you.” Nor could I explain to Christopher that we were suddenly staying at his real daddy’s house. It was just awkward, and I didn’t want to depend on Ciro. I had relied on a man once before and look where that had gotten on me.

  “It’s not an imposition,” he insisted. “Now drink up and start talking.”

  I frowned at the amber liquid in the glass.

  “Was it Joe?”

  The glass blurred. I set it on the coffee table, crying too hard to breathe, much less drink. “Yes. Oh, God, yes. He showed up at my apartment last night. He tried to rape me, and he threatened to kill both Christopher and me if I went to the cops. He knows about you and me and he’s bent on vengeance. I don’t know what to do, Ciro. I don’t know how to get away from him. I just want to feel safe—to find a way to raise my son the way he deserves.” I wrapped my arms around myself and cried, no longer able to hold any of it back.

  He was at my feet, his hands cradling my face. “This isn’t the first time, is it?”

  I shook my head. “No.” I told him everything. I told him how Joe had become more and more controlling over the years, how he came home drunk and forced himself on me, and how he beat me when I refused. It poured out of my mouth unbidden, like a river that couldn’t be dammed. “I’m so sorry. I don’t mean to come to you and burden you with all of this. I just don’t know what else to do.”

  “Don’t you dare be sorry.” His eyes were hard emerald as he stood up and paced in front of the fireplace. “If anybody should be sorry, it’s me. I only made things worse, and I should have pulled you out of there as soon as Joe knew Christopher wasn’t his. I know the kind of guy Joe is, and I’m not surprised to hear any of this.”

  “Like I said, we’ll be on our way soon. I just need to get on my feet,” I sniffled. “I know this isn’t your problem, but I didn’t know who else to turn to. I’m happy to make payments back to you, or you can take the title to my car. Anything.” I would do anything to just get away.

  “Damn it, Sophia, stop that!” He turned to me with fire in his eyes and his fists balled at his sides. “You can have all the money you want, and you aren’t paying a bit of it back. And you aren’t leaving. Do you know what will happen if you go to some hotel? Joe will find you. He’s a dirty cop, and there are plenty of others out there like him. They’ll track you down and it will be even worse than it was before. If he wants you, then he’ll have to get through me first.”

  I knew he was right. I didn’t want to do this, but he was right. The best place for us was right here. If Joe was stupid enough to try to get to us while under Ciro’s protection, there would be a heavy price to pay. “All right,” I conceded. “That works for now, but what about the future? Joe’s not the kind who gives up easily.”

  “You let me worry about that. My mom will see to your wounds; she’s good at that.”

  I followed him out of the room, feeling at once guilty and incredibly lucky. There were beaten and bruised women out there who didn’t have anyone to turn to. We found Carlita and Christopher on a large couch in front of a massive television. A tray of fruit and a bag of chips were on the table in front of them, and Christopher repeatedly took handfuls from each of them.

  “Mommy! You should see this place! The rooms are huge! Even the bathroom is bigger than my bedroom! And there’s so much food in the fridge, and Miss Carlita said I could have as much as I want. And there’s a channel that has kids’ shows on it all day! Can you believe it, Mommy?” He bounced on the couch, so enthusiastic that he didn’t notice I’d been crying.

  I was grateful. “That’s wonderful, dear.”

  After a whispered exchange between Ciro and his mother, the older woman stood and took me silently by the wrist. I followed her, glancing over my shoulder as Ciro settled down on t
he couch next to my son. Christopher would never be safer than he was at that moment.

  Carlita brought me down a hall to a bathroom that was indeed bigger than Christopher’s bedroom. “Sit down,” she commanded softly. “Let’s get you taken care of.”

  I obediently parked myself on a bench below the window while she rummaged through the medicine cabinet. “Thank you for taking care of my son.”

  She smiled as she brought down cotton balls and a bottle of witch hazel. “He’s a darling boy. So sweet and innocent. He reminds me a lot of Ciro when he was that age. He’s changed a lot over the years, but I still see the child in him when I look hard enough.” She carefully dabbed at the scrapes and bruises. “It’s nice to know I have a grandson.”

  I stiffened for a moment, terrified that she knew the secret, but I quickly realized there was no point. Carlita had known from the moment she laid eyes on him, and I couldn’t deny it. “I wasn’t sure for a while. I don’t think there’s any doubt now.” I waited for her to reprimand me for sleeping with her son, then not telling him about the child. I waited for her to berate me for being a slut or threaten to go through the court and take Christopher from me.