That shut her up fast.
But with each suite, more and more fantasies about Bella looped through my mind. And by the time we got to the end of the third floor, I was breaking into a cold sweat trying not to think about her, and wishing that lady would start asking about bedbugs again.
On the second floor, while flaunting the kink rooms, it got even worse. Each one just made me think of the night of Bella’s audition. Never mind all the many, many things I’d like to do with her in these very rooms. Then I remembered how flustered she’d been in the sex store, gazing around at the whips. How I teased her by threatening to use one on her. She’d been so adorably indignant.
Showing off the toys became pure torture. I was thirsting after her like I was baking under a hot sun, and she was the only thing that would quench my thirst. I could still hear her gasps and moans, that high note she hit when calling out my name. Still see her glorious, sweaty, and naked body.
In spite of myself, in the very last room, I imagined her gorgeous ass, pink from being flogged, and went instantly hard.
Fucking A. No, Bella couldn’t quench my thirst. The woman was like drinking salt water. No matter how much I got, I just wanted more.
Especially now that I’d tasted her.
The only question was, what would it cost me…
And did I even care anymore?
Chapter Eleven
Bella
Even though it was 39 degrees outside, I was driving with the windows down, letting the wind tear through my hair, and the bass pump. Checking the GPS, I took the next exit off the highway. Then I turned up the radio and forced myself to finish my iced coffee.
I had to wake up more.
Hot 97 shook the mirrors as it blasted out a new song by Drake. I was barely listening to it, though. As was becoming an alarming pattern, I hadn’t slept last night. No, instead I’d spent hours tossing and turning over Colt.
Again.
My entire body felt numb. And not from the cold.
This time, instead of resisting that temporary amnesia Colt seemed to cause me every time I was in his presence, I’d dived in. Not only had I willingly slept with him, I’d wanted it.
I still wanted it. Two showers later and I could still smell his cologne.
I kept wondering if he was thinking about me. My head was full of him. Laughing at lunch, our first kiss, dancing, and then the sheer intensity of the intimacy between us.
Worst of all? For a moment last night, nestled against him, I’d allowed myself to feel happy, and safe. Daydreamed about things that could never be. Second-guessed what I was doing.
And now I was losing my goddamned mind.
It had taken me an hour to get out of my apartment this morning. I’d slept through my alarm, couldn’t find my purse, or my shoes. Oh, and then I got lost on the way to the Zip Car parking lot.
Blowing out my cheeks, I made a mental note to call Lisa after my visit with Justin. Right now, my soul was in tatters. It was like Bella Ruffino was being shredded apart piece by piece and soon there’d be nothing left. Maybe Lisa could get me straight.
Chewing on my straw, I pulled onto the wooded drive leading to New York State FCI. Up until a month ago I’d never known FCI meant Federal Correction Institution. I’d never known you couldn’t wear a hat. I’d never known you had to be on an approved list to visit.
Miles of barbed wire reared up as the woods fell away, and my nerves, already shot, keyed up another level. My only exchanges with my brother had so far been over recorded phone lines. I’d told him what I could about my plan with Colt, hoping he could read between the lines, and he had. In fact, he’d been the only one who had encouraged me. Talking to him, seeing him now, would surely bolster the flagging sense of injustice and anger inside me and get my head back in the game.
At first I’d looked forward to this trip, telling Justin how I got a gig as a dancer at the club, and had Colt in the palm of my hands. But now those hands were shaking as I parked the car and stepped outside. I was terrified my face would give away what I’d done or, worse, how I was feeling.
Getting inside took awhile. There was paperwork, a pat-down, a stern-faced officer explaining the rules, and finally a horrible buzzing sound as I was ushered into a dim, grey room. Immediately the stale air made me want to scream. My skin crawled when the door shut behind me.
What if I get stuck in here? What if there’s a riot?
There were a series of tables around the room, a few filled with men, and their families. As I sat down, more than one of them gave me an once-over. Immediately I wished I’d downplayed my outfit more, although I knew there was nothing I could do about my hair. It was probably the brightest thing in the dank room.
Another horrible buzz, then a huge, ripped guard escorted a man cuffed around the front into the room. Jerking away, the man snapped, “I can walk on my own, thanks.”
“Keep talkin’ like that Ruffino and we’ll take away visitor rights again,” the guard grunted back.
“Fuck off, lard-ass.”
Justin?
My mouth dropped open as the man whirled and his grey-green eyes landed on me. Rising to my feet, half-inclined to run, half-inclined to throw myself on him, the big guard’s hand shot up.
“No touching, I’m sorry, miss.” Then he hissed in my brother’s ear, “Call me lard-ass again and you’re back in the shoe.” My brother crossed his eyes and the guard shoved him towards me.
“Bout time, Bells. Where were you yesterday? It was the first day I could get visitors and nobody came,” my brother asked as he sat down.
“I had to work, I’m so sorry.” I was staring at this man, trying to reconcile him with the boy I’d helped across puddles when he was small. He’d been wide-smiled, and full of pranks. An adorable imp. Or maybe I’d half-expected the awkward, rather sullen teen who’d visited me in Europe a handful of years ago.
But this man? This man looked older than me, grey-skinned, scowling. Body hard with muscle, eyes even harder. Was this what a couple months in prison did to a man?
Nausea slicked my belly and I swallowed the bile that rose to my throat.
“How’re things goin’?” Justin asked, biting a fingernail, as his gaze flickered around the room.
“Things are fine.” I noticed he had fresh letters poorly tattooed onto his knuckles and they made my heart squeeze.
Forza.
Italian for “strength”. Had he been feeling so alone...so beaten down that he needed to call on his inner fortitude just to get through the day in this place? All these years across the pond, and I was only just realizing that maybe what had felt like a punishment might have been a blessing. It was a tough life skirting the edge of the law, and the consequences of that life were cruel and swift.
“New job workin’ out for you?” Justin’s eyes, rimmed with red, narrowed at me.
“Oh, yes, very well. He’s starting to really trust me. I’m in Jussie.” I leaned forward, trying to take his hand for even a second, but he jerked away.
“Don’t call me that.” Justin scowled. “Don’t mess this up, Bells. You haven’t exactly been there for me when I needed you.”
I pulled away liked I’d been slapped.
“I’m sorry. But I wasn’t permitted to come and go as I pleased, Justin. I saw you whenever I could. We had fun when you visited Europe, remember? Taking the train, going to the museums?”
Justin shrugged. “Yeah, kinda. I don’t know, my memory is pretty shot. Weeks in the shoe will do that to you.”
Tugging on my collar, I tried to pretend it didn’t feel like the walls were closing in on me. “Don’t tell me you don’t remember the mimes? When you were like nine, and how we were gonna start our own show?” I tried to tease. “We even practiced being trapped in a box, remember?” My voice shook a little.
Justin stared at me, scratching his face. “What the fuck are you talkin’ about, Bells?”
Who are you? I wanted to ask.
This man, wrapped
up in a cold, persistent rage, was not my brother. Not as I knew him, anyway. It hit me like a blow and a sharp pain pulsed in my chest.
Justin Ruffino was dead.
The Capestranas had killed him, just like they’d killed my father.
And this hard shell was all that was left.
Digging my nails into my palms, I leaned forward again, and told Justin a little bit about the audition. But he waved his arms, the cuffs jangling, and glared at me.
“Look, I don’t care about that stuff. We need to talk about the future and how we’re going to get back what’s ours. How much money is that bastard Capestrana pulling in with that club? That was all Dad, y’know. They fuckin’ jacked him on that shit, too. How is it okay for them to run a sex club but when we were basically doing the same thing, we got rolled for it?” His voice was rising and I shot a nervous look at the guards.
“Justin,” I whispered. “Calm down, it’s all going fine. Just gonna take a little time.”
“I don’t have fucking time!” Justin roared at me. Rearing up, his fist shot out and connected with the table. His knuckles instantly tore open and I jumped back. “I’m doing fucking time because of them, and every day I have to watch my back because they got guys in here trying to shank me, so don’t lecture me about time. The clock is running out for me.”
“Hey!” the big guard yelled, bustling over.
“We need leverage and we need it fast, before I wind up dead in here.” He was on his feet, two guards charging towards him, and still glaring at me. “They caused all of this! Fucking rats. What happened to the omerta? The Trinacria agreement? Capestranas’ actin’ so fucking high and mighty, just so they can swoop in, ruin everything, and take it for themselves! And just ‘cause one stupid whore—”
My brother choked as the guard put an arm around his neck and pulled him away from the table. Blood dripped onto the floor and it snapped me out of my daze.
“No, wait, I’m sorry, it was my fault—” I started to say to the guard, getting to my feet, but another guard stepped forward, shaking his head.
“I’m sorry, but he’s a loose cannon. He has to leave now. And we’re probably going to have to take his visitor rights away again.”
“But…” I trailed off, staring at Justin.
Almost at the door back into the prison, Justin shoved against the big guard and turned around to meet my tear-blurred gaze.
The second guard pushed me back, then threw his hand out. “Ruffino, don’t do anything you’ll regret.” His other hand was on his gun.
Horror rising in me, I waved at Justin. “Jus, it’s fine. It’s gonna be okay.”
“Yeah it will, if you don’t fuck it up. The Capestranas put a bullet in our father, Bells. Don’t you fucking forget that.”
“Ruffino!” the big guard snapped, grabbing Justin by the scruff of his neck. “Move!”
The following five minutes were a blur as I left the prison and practically ran to my car. The next thing I knew I was sitting in the driver’s seat, sucking in deep breaths. For a second my vision swam and I thought I was going to throw up. I hung on to the wheel with sweaty fingers, and felt the world spin around me. Tears still swam in my eyes, but I couldn’t even bring myself to cry.
All I wanted to do was curl into a ball and fall asleep for hours. Numb the pain. But it was a two-hour drive back to my apartment. And I didn’t think the prison would look kindly on me napping in the parking lot.
Disbelief slowly turned into bitter anger.
I’d hoped when I saw Justin, we’d rekindle our same old banter. The closeness we’d shared when he was little or even the fun we’d eventually had when he’d come to Europe as a teen. I did recall how hard it had been to coax him out of his shell back then, but I thought by now he’d have come full circle, passing those awkward years and reverting to the fun-loving, happy person he’d been when he was small.
And he probably had been, I realized with a start. When business had been good and Dad had been alive. But his father and mine had been gunned down in cold blood and Justin had spent the past weeks staring at the same four walls. That would change anyone.
My little brother was lost to me—maybe for good—and it was all because of the Capestranas.
I stared out the window at the huge building as anger and pain stormed through my chest, and I closed my eyes. I would harness this feeling. I would remember this terrible, ugly gash across my heart and soul.
I would not let Colt Capestrana destroy me the way his brother destroyed mine.
Opening my eyes, I turned on the car, and started to drive. Catching sight of myself in the mirror, I saw a cold face with a set jaw reflected back at me.
Good. Anger was better than fear and vulnerability. All the things Colt had made me feel.
I’d had some setbacks, but this game wasn’t over. I still had to play it. Only smarter. No running, no looking back, no guilt.
I had to make Colt fall in love with me. And then? I would use that love to make him pay for what he’d done to my family no matter what the price.
Chapter Twelve
Colt
Checking my phone again, I frowned at the notifications screen. Then I punched out a text and waited.
“Another one? Who’re you texting, grumpy-puss?” Diane teased, slinging Trent’s backpack over one shoulder, and checking her watch. Then she yelled, “Junior, let’s go! Now!”
“Ninja Turtle backpack really brings out your eyes. You should wear it tonight,” I retorted.
In fact, Diane kinda could pull off the cartoon turtles look. Always chic and elegant, she was dressed to the nines in a long black evening gown. I’d been babysitting and she came by to pick up Trent for some fancy party, one that I also was supposed to go to. And even though she’d been understanding when I’d begged off, exhausted from club stuff, I still had to endure a half-hour of ball-busting, Diane Li style.
“Uh oh, someone resisting the maestro of charm?” Her eyes twinkled as Trent came galloping over.
Trent slung his arms around my waist, saving me the trouble of making up a response.
“Mom, I don’t wanna go to some stupid old people dinner. Can’t I stay?”
I ruffled his floppy dark hair. “Hey, your grandpa doesn’t retire every day, kiddo. Besides, lots of good grub. I’m missin’ out.”
Trent rolled his eyes. “I’d rather stay here, eat leftovers, and play video games with you.”
“No way! My ego’s taken enough of a bruising today after the beatings you’ve been doling out, T-man. Besides, you’re gonna look sharp in that suit that the twins picked out for you. You wouldn’t want to disappoint Ava, right?”
A flush of pink rolled over Trent’s face and he pulled away looking both embarrassed and pleased. He’d nursed a huge crush on Ava forever.
Diane mouthed thank you at me.
Winking, I said, “Have fun you guys.”
“See ya, Uncle Colt. Thanks.” Trent waved as he rushed out the door.
Diane lingered for a second, looking me over. “Need me to go knock sense into the broad for you, or you good?”
“No, there’s no broad. It still raining out?”
“Subtle subject change.” Diane applauded lightly. “Sleeting now, should be a fun drive. And you sure, Colt? You’re looking rough.”
“Honestly Di, how do you sleep at night? Here I am, watching your progeny all day so you could get dolled up, and I’m getting flack for not getting dolled up myself? And, yes I’m sure.”
“Mhm, okay. Well, looks to me like you’re pining. That’s really why you’re not coming, isn’t it? Gonna watch a sappy movie and eat ice cream?” Diane made a comical face and then squinted at me. “So, need a background check on her?”
I grinned and shook my head. Trent Sr. always loved when Diane gave me shit about women. He’d be happy to know the tradition was still going strong.
What would she find on you, Bella?
Bella, who I hadn’t heard from in a couple of d
ays, and was starting to get seriously concerned about. In fact, I wanted to send my cousins Nicky and Rosco to go check on her from afar. I was going to hold off one more day so as not to be stalkerish. And as for Diane’s offer, I wasn’t about to tell her this, but I’d already done my own searching the night before. I had only found out one thing. Something that I’d pretty much known from the start.
Bella Lesaude was definitely not her real name.
“Hello, Colt? Yes or no? Gimme a name, I’ll have her dirt in minutes.” Diane tapped her foot, glancing over her shoulder at Trent doing karate in the hallway.
“Nah, it’s fine. I like the mystery.” Lie. I fucking hated the mystery. “Thanks, though. And hey, tell your dad congrats.”
“You could tell him yourself, you know.” Diane gave me a pointed look.
I winced. “I know, sorry, I’m the worst. I am just so, so beat.”
“Pining,” she sang out.
“Good night, Di,” I said, shutting the door.
Walking back into my apartment, I glanced around, and let out a long sigh. Trent and the dog had more or less torn the place apart. Toys were scattered everywhere, a half-collapsed blanket fort was in one corner, and snacks were strewn across the table.
Toro, completely worn out from Trent’s antics, was now snoozing in the corner with his legs up in the air. Wishing I could do the same, I instead began cleaning up, while trying not to worry about Bella. But I was starting to think that was an impossible task.
Woman was doing a number on me. I had been trying to get in contact with her for days. So far? No response. That was a new one.
Some part of me felt like I should be relieved, grateful even, but instead I alternated between worrying about her and wondering where things stood between us. I was torn. I knew I should stay away, but somehow I couldn’t.
Plus, tomorrow was the club’s opening night, and I was really hoping I hadn’t cost us our lead dancer. She hadn’t even responded to Dante’s texts, which made me really uneasy. I could be an ass, but Dante? He was forever loveable, in spite of my still-aching shoulder.
Better to Eat You Page 47