“No, please,” he pleaded, crying. “I won’t do it again, I swear!”
But Trey had given an order, and now it was Vincent’s turn to follow that order. If he didn’t—all the work he’d done so far had been for nothing. If he chickened out now, it was all over.
So Vincent closed his eyes and pulled the trigger. A loud blast rang out. The kid screamed a couple times. Behind them, Trey began to chuckle.
Opening his eyes, Vincent saw no sign of blood on the kid’s knee. There was no gaping bullet wound or blown out kneecap. He let out a huge sigh of relief when he realized the gun Trey had given him was loaded with blanks.
“Now,” Trey said as he stepped forward. “Stay off my corner.” He delivered one last, swift kick and then turned to go back to his car. Vincent’s hands were starting to shake so he quickly shoved them in his pockets after he got into the car.
“You’re a sick fuck,” Vincent whispered. “You know that?”
Trey simply continued to grin as he drove away, leaving the kid bleeding and beaten on the sidewalk.
When Bela went into her room that night, she was surprised to see Vincent step out of her closet. She covered her mouth to keep from screaming in fright. “You scared the hell out of me,” she hissed as she went back to lock her door. “What are you doing here?”
He stood with his hands in his pockets, his shoulders kind of hunched. “I had to see you,” he said weakly. “I tried going to the rooftop…”
“Well after waiting about two hours,” she said, crossing her arms, “I left. It’s the second time you’ve stood me up since you started running around with my brother.”
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I should’ve been there.”
Suddenly, she realized something was wrong with him. He wasn’t acting like himself. Where was the charming half-smile? Where was the playful glow in his eyes? Why was he no longer standing with his shoulders straight and his chin high? “What’s wrong?” she asked, as her arms fell to her sides once again. “What happened?”
“It’s nothing,” he said with an unconvincing shrug. “It’s fine. I just…”
“Vincent,” she said softly, touching his arm. “What is it?”
He took one hand out of his pocket and awkwardly raked it through his hair, and when he did she saw his knuckles were bruised and bloody. Taking his hand gently, she looked at the small wounds with a feeling of compassion and fear. Not of him, but for him. “Did…did Trey pull rank again? Did he make you do something?”
His gaze didn’t lift to meet hers, but stayed aimed at the floor. What was so bad that he couldn’t look her in the eye? It didn’t matter, she realized. Because he needed her; she could feel it. And she wanted to be there for him. “Never mind,” she whispered. “I don’t need to know.”
His gaze met hers in surprise.
“Come here,” she said, gently pulling his arm. She led him into the adjoining bathroom and closed the door behind them. Once they were in front of the sink, she worked his jacket off his shoulders and draped it over the bathtub. Then she turned back to the sink and turned on the water. Together, they worked to wash the bloodstains from his hands. More splatters of blood stained the cuff of his white-button down shirt, but she rolled them up until the stains were no longer in sight. She finished up by dabbing his hands dry with a soft towel.
“There.” She brought her hand up to his head to tuck away a loose strand of hair that had fallen across his eyes. “Good as new.”
As she went to retract her hand, he grabbed it, pressing it between his cheek and his palm. Looking at her, his eyes were full of remorse. “You deserve better than this, Bela,” he said, his voice trembling with conviction. “And I swear I’m going to give it to you.”
She didn’t know how he planned to accomplish this, but when she heard him promise her, she found herself trusting him. “I know,” she said, stepping closer to lace her arms around him. “I believe you.”
His arms circled around her, closing her into the small, safe place within them. He held her tight, clinging to her. Resting her forehead against his, she breathed in the smell of him, the feel of him, engraving this feeling into her memory forever.
Chapter nine
It’d been a week since Trey had spoken to or even seen Mandi. He wanted to apologize, to go to her and tell her they had gotten off to a bad start, try to charm her or make her give him one more chance. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but something about her was just different. Different then the run-of-the-mill gold digging, drug addicted, bleach blond losers he usually found in places like the Dive. When they saw him they saw piles of money, which is why he didn’t give them the time of day. When Mandi looked at him she saw a person, he could tell she saw past the guns and the mob and the danger. She treated him like he was a human; she didn’t quake with fear at the sound of his name, she wasn’t afraid to tell him exactly what she thought. She was real.
Picking up the phone he decided to give her a call, maybe he would get lucky and she would actually hear him out. It rang once, twice, three times, he was about to give up when she answered.
“Hey Mandi…it’s Trey,” he said. She didn’t respond, but she didn’t hang up either—good sign. “I wanted to apologize for how I acted during your show. You’re right, I don’t own you or know you….but I’d like to.”
“Own me?” she asked.
“No-no, know you. Let me take you out to dinner,” he said. “How about Le Bernardin?”
“I don’t know, Trey,” she replied.
He could hear it in her voice, she was tired and frustrated, the last thing she needed was some guy trying to swoon her. Something told him the usual fancy dinner and wine combo wouldn’t impress her. He needed to think outside his box of expensive gestures to get this girl.
“Ok, how about this. I’ll pick up dinner, whatever you want, maybe a movie and I’ll come over there. We’ll just hang out, talk, get to know each other. Nothin’ fancy.”
There was a long pause, for a moment he thought she might have hung up, and then finally she said, “That sounds… nice.”
They decided he would come over the following day around seven.
He’d taken an hour to get ready that night, an actual hour. He changed three times before he found an outfit that seemed laid back and casual. He couldn’t show up in his usual dress shirt and blazer, that was the opposite of the mellow movie night they’d planned. He finally decided on a black t-shirt that clung to him in all the right places, blue jeans and a leather jacket. He stopped by the garden on his way out and picked a single white rose. It wasn’t long before he showed up at her door step with a bag of Chinese food in one hand and a movie and the rose in the other.
It only took her a minute to answer the door and let him in. Seeing her took the breath out of his lungs for a minute. Her blond hair was curled and sprawled loosely over her shoulder. She’d dressed casually too, wearing a pale pink v-neck shirt, a pair of black jeans and socks.
“This is for you.” He handed her the rose.
She smiled. “Thank you, what’s that?” She motioned to the blockbuster DVD case in his hand.
“The New Guy. Figured I would go with a comedy.”
“Smart choice, is that Chinese?” she asked. “I love Chinese food.”
“Yeah I didn’t know what you would like so I got a little bit of everything.” He sat the bag down on the island between her kitchen and living room. The apartment was a lot nicer than he expected after seeing the dingy hallway. He could tell she’d spent hours nesting. Shear purple curtains hung at each window; there was a colorful throw rug on the floor in the living room and light emanated from candles on the end tables placed at each end of the couch. He wondered why he’d never noticed these things the last time he was here.
The movie was funny, not realistic at all, but funny. Trey watched as it made her laugh; she had a good laugh.
She turned to him, crossing one leg underneath the other. “Thanks, I needed a good laugh.”<
br />
Her smile made him smile—she was contagious that way. “Anytime.” He waited a moment before speaking, choosing his words carefully as not to make her shut down, or ruin the evening. “So, where are you from? It doesn’t sound like you’re from New York.”
She looked over at him, “Ah, is this the get to know me part?”
“It was in the plan.”
“I’m from Tennessee, mostly.”
“Mostly?”
“I lived in various foster homes around Memphis until I was about 10.” She swallowed as if it was hard for her to talk about her past or something.
“What about after you were 10?”
“I got ‘adopted’ by a not-so-nice family in Mississippi, I lived with them for about 6 years, then I came here.” She put finger quotations around the word adopted. Something told Trey it wasn’t a very happy time for her there. An abusive dad, drunk mom, probably something along those lines. He tried not to pry.
“So what finally brought you to New York?” He asked.
“The usual, wanted to be a movie star, met a guy who said he could make that happen, turns out he couldn’t.” She cleared her throat. “Now here I am.”
“Something tells me you left out a few details in that story.” He didn’t want to push, but he was curious to learn about her, to find out everything he could.
She took a sip from her wine glass, after she swallowed she took a deep breath, “James…that was his name. We fell in love, or at least what I thought was love when I was seventeen. I came to New York to be an actress…but they weren’t hiring. After a little while James convinced me I should dance. I could really pull a crowd he said. He would slap me around a little if I talked about wanting to quit or wanting to leave. He’s the one who borrowed the money from Max…when he died Max decided it would be my debt.” She took another drink of wine. “I think he doesn’t want to lose the money I make him.”
Trey nodded, taking it all in. “How did James die?”
“Car accident, his fault. He let his anger get the better of him…cost him his life.”
“And yours,” Trey said. Mandi looked down into her wine glass, avoiding eye contact, “Do you ever wish you could go back and do things differently?”
She shrugged, “I made some bad choices but those choices shaped the person I am today, wishing I could go back would be like regretting who I am…I don’t regret who I am.”
He smiled at her, he liked that answer.
“What about you?” she asked, taking the last sip of her wine. “Do you ever regret how your life has turned out?”
“Me? Nah, I love my life,” he replied without even thinking about it. She raised an eyebrow, as if wanting him to continue. “I have money, respect. I get to do what I want.”
“Haven’t you ever wanted to do something different with your life?”
He shook his head. “No. Is that bad?”
“No, it’s not bad,” she said. “You know what you want and you’re on your way to getting it.”
Chapter ten
The night of Bela’s birthday party, she took hours getting ready. Not because she wanted to look perfect, really, but because she was putting this ‘celebration’ off as long as possible.
Standing in front of the full length mirror, she studied her reflection. The girl in the sleeveless black and white ball gown looked nothing like the Bela who preferred comfy jeans and a t-shirt. Her normally loose and carefree wave of mahogany brown hair was tucked into a fancy up-do with carefully chosen pieces pulled out. Sure, she looked alright, but it wasn’t her. Neither was the party downstairs, with classical music and appetizers and champagne. She’d wanted pizza, damn it.
There was a knock at the door.
“What?” she called out.
Trey came inside, dressed in a jet-black tuxedo. His hair was slicked back and combed neatly. “Wow, Bela.” His gaze raked over her with a look of awe. “You look…stunning.”
She couldn’t remember the last time someone in her family had complimented her, and it brought her a small smile. “Thanks.”
“I guess I’m not supposed to convince you to wear a sweater?”
She chuckled. “No,” she said. “And if you think it’s showing too much skin, blame Claudia. She picked it out.”
“I brought you something, too.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small box. Extending his hands toward her, he opened the box to reveal a small bracelet. “Remember this?”
Seeing the bracelet again made tears of joy spring to her eyes. It wasn’t anything fancy—just several silver peace signs linked together to form a bracelet, but her mother had worn it all the time. She’d searched for the bracelet for years after her mom died and hadn’t found it. “Where did you find that?” she asked.
“I held on to it for you,” he said as he began to take the bracelet out of the box. “When you were younger you were always losing stuff, but I think you’ve outgrown that by now.”
She smiled as he fastened the bracelet around her wrist. A lot of the time, she feared Trey and the things he was capable of doing. But there were other times, moments like this, when he allowed her to remember that sweet little boy who’d taught her how to ride a bike and always put her needs first. There were moments when he acted like her brother again. “It’s perfect,” she said, admiring the gleam of silver. “I love it.”
He gave her a warm hug and said, “Happy birthday, Bela.”
“Thanks, big brother,” she said as they parted.
As he turned to walk away, she saw the moment slipping away and wasn’t ready for it to be over yet. “Wait,” she said. When he turned back to face her, she could feel the words building inside her. More than anything, she wanted to confess to him. To gush about Vincent and how she felt, and to have those things be heard. She wanted to put an end to the sneaking around and the lies. If she could catch him in a mood like this, and somehow convince him that Vincent was a good guy who really cared about her, then maybe all this deception could be over.
As the words danced on the tip of her tongue, she found herself fearing Trey’s quick temper. What if his rage-meter went from zero to sixty before she could fully explain? Instead of the confession she’d planned, she found herself saying, “Would you walk me downstairs?”
The party was only in swing for about half an hour before Sal, Trey and Vincent all started to file toward the den, taking a good portion of the party’s men with them. If Vincent hadn’t been in the room with the rest of the guys, she would’ve bailed.
Instead, she sat at a table in the back, watching while people she barely even knew danced and talked and ate finger-foods. Mandi approached Bela with a small gift bag and a smile and took her hand, pulling her away from the table.
“Where are we going?” Bela asked as Mandi dragged her through the party and up the stairs.
“Somewhere we can talk alone,” Mandi said. “Which room is yours?”
“That one,” Bela said, pointing to her door. Once they were inside, Mandi turned to her.
“You look way too sad for a birthday girl, so let’s see if we can turn this night around, shall we?”
“How are we going to do that?” she asked.
“Well, you can start by opening part one of your present.” Mandi handed over the gift bag and waited for Bela to open it.
Bela reached into the bag and pulled out a negligee. It was solid black with spaghetti straps and lace around the midriff. Just looking at it, holding it, somehow made Bela feel more grown up. “Wow,” she said, feeling her cheeks flush. “This is so…”
“Sexy?” Mandi asked. “But classy and very you. I think Vincent will love it.”
“I wouldn’t know,” Bela said, turning to the mirror. She held the lingerie up over her dress and tried to picture having the guts—and the time—to wear it for him. “We haven’t really been able to…spend much time together.”
“I figured,” she said. “That’s where part two comes in handy.”
; “Part two?”
“I know someone capable of…keeping your brother occupied for the rest of the night. So—not that I’m encouraging you, or anything—but if you wanted to sneak away and spend the night with that gorgeous Italian boyfriend who looks at you like you’re his world…you wouldn’t have to worry about Trey’s interference.”
“Seriously?” she asked. “You’d do that for me?”
“You look like you can use some fun,” Mandi said.
After the party, Bela and Vincent met on the rooftop. From there, they drove a couple streets down to his apartment complex. Outside in the hall, he paused just outside his door. He looked a little nervous and shy as he said, “I never have people over so the place is kind of a mess…” he chuckled. “Would you mind if I just went in real quick and…?”
“Sure,” she said, thinking he was adorable when he was flustered. “I’ll wait.”
“It’ll just take a sec,” he said, and then he disappeared behind the door. After about a minute, the door opened again. “Sorry about that.”
“It’s fine,” she said, stepping inside. It was a small place, just one large room divided into three sections for the bedroom, living area and kitchen. On the far side of the living room, there was an open door leading to a small bathroom. A door branched off the living room, opened to a small bathroom. There was a small unmade twin bed in the corner to her right and a couch, coffee table and TV set up to her left.
“I know it’s not much,” he said.
“But it’s yours,” she said as she sat down on the couch. “That alone must be so…cool.”
“Yeah, I guess it is.” He sat down next to her. “Have you ever thought about getting your own place?”
“All the time,” she said. “But dad has so many enemies. He says someone would grab me in a minute.”
He nodded in understanding.
“No matter how much he pretends it’s about me,” she said. “It always comes back to being about him.”
Men of Honor: Cosa Nostra book 1 Page 6