by Tara Lee
Ethan zeroes in on me, his arms cage me in, his body close to mine, his breath a whisper on my skin.
“I won’t lose you, not again, Luna?” He growls, and it sounds low and sexy as hell.
“You already did.” I say as I stare at him.
He smirks.” Games not over yet, baby bird.”
“You already died and had to restart the game.” I taunt him.
His lips pressing to a thin line, then the side of his mouth lifts in a sinful smirk.
“I’ll re-start as many times as it takes before I come out victorious.”
I knew he wasn’t joking either.. I was a win to Ethan, plain and simple. I was his end game.
“I’ll love you until the end of time, but I can’t be with you, Ethan. You’ll only drag me down. Loving someone isn’t enough, love isn’t always enough.” It comes out garbled and soft as my tears fall.
“Don’t say that, baby bird ,don’t you fucking say that.” He hisses through clenched teeth.
He sighs loudly, and even though I know it pains him to do so, he slips my face from his hold and steps back.
“Is it really over?” He asks.
I nod, because right now, all I can give him is friendship, I’m barely holding on to that, but I know if I give in again, I definitely won’t come out of it this time. My heart will never be the same.
Ethan brushes past me. My bedroom door slams shut, and I jump as another tear falls.
The front door is next, and he slams it so hard, I hear something crash.
I sink to my floor and sob I rock back and forth, my tears stream one after the other.
Why did it have to be like this? Why couldn’t it be easier?
I wipe my tears, but it’s no use, they won’t stop now I know Ethan and I will never be the same how can I ever trust him again? Even as a friend this is going to be hard; he's so close yet so far. I know it’s by my own doing, but I also know I’m safer this way— my heart’s safer this way. I haven’t even told Ethan about my sickness. God, I don’t even know where to start. I know from the beginning, but how? I hated him for leaving and I hated myself for being weak where he was concerned. But most of all, I hate my traitorous heart, because she loved him no matter what.
I have suffered the greatest loss. And I survived it. I thought I feared nothing, but sometimes I fear death, and that truly scares me.
I understood Luna being angry, why she wouldn’t want to take the risk with me again. Fuck, I can’t say I blame her. I destroyed her heart and now I have to suffer the consequences, even if that means I’ll only ever get to be near her in the friend department. Maybe in time she’ll come around, but right now it seems like she is going to keep me at as much distance as physically possible.
My heart was a soft bastard, because where Luna was concerned, it always had a weak spot for her.
I’m not a fucking monster. I may have been a screwup, but even screwups knew how to love, and I love all the fucking time. All is fair in love and war, but maybe I’m tired of the war part.
I fight the urge to buy some heavy shit to get me through.
Just breathe, you can do this, you don’t need that shit.
I stop in front of a man I know is selling, the urge right there. I’m determined to fight this addiction but how the fuck can I win?
“I can beat this, I can beat this” I chant to myself. She’ll come back to me, I know it, and she will fucking enjoy it.
With the secret I’m holding on to, the one I’m so scared to tell her, maybe it’s for the best I don’t get too close to her again. It will only be used against me, right?
She would only be hurt because of me —again.
I turn the key in the lock to my apartment, and it’s no surprise when I see the figure sitting at my table with two men around him.
I sigh and flick on the light.
“Sitting in the dark, geez, I would have thought that was beneath you.” I glared at him.
He smirks at me and nods for me to sit in the chair across from him.
“Ethan.” His voice is commanding and strong. Powerful.
I sink into the chair, keeping my eyes on him. His two goons next to him don’t move a muscle. They haven’t even taken their eyes off me.
“My answer is still no.” I tell him I don’t bat an eyelid, because who knows what his goons have in store for me just for saying the word no. You don’t tell Lorenzo Vincent no.
His deep sigh tells me he’s disappointed with that word from me.
“Reconsider, Ethan.” He simply says.
I shake my head. “Nothing to reconsider, Lorenzo.” I don’t bother calling him father, because he hasn’t earned that right.
I go to stand, but one of his goons is by my side quicker than I get to my feet, shoving me back down with his hand on my shoulder. He keeps me firmly in place while Lorenzo shuffles in his seat. He crosses his leg over his knee and clears his throat.
He smiles and laughs. I keep my emotions in check, stone-faced not giving him the satisfaction.
“I like you, kid, I really do, you’ve got backbone.”
His hands sit on his lap, and I look down, making the mistake of taking my eyes off him. I get pushed to the table hard, my head shoved down in place.
“Get the fuck off me, you ogre,” I tell his goon.
Lorenzo tsks and stands. He lifts my chin towards him, forcing my eyes on his.
“You should know by now, boy, I don’t take lightly to people turning me down.
I spit in his face and struggle against the hold these goons have on me. “Fuck you.” I spit at him again.
His goon holds my hands behind my back, forcing my chest to the table. The pain to my shoulders is almost unbearable.
Lorenzo lifts a handkerchief from his pocket and wipes his face; he nods to his goon, the one holding me down.
He stands me up, and before I can even think, Lorenzo backhands me across the face. I jerk back from the impact, stunned that he just did that.
“You have one month to tell me the answer I want to hear, Ethan. I’m being generous here, or not only will I make your life a living hell, maybe I’ll chop that pretty little thing up that you seem to care so much about.”
I glare at him and reach out to him to rip him to pieces.
“You stay the fuck away from her.” I hiss.
His goon keeps hold of me, and I struggle, trying to break free. I'm a big guy, but this guy is double my size. What is he, a fucking bear?
“You know how to keep her out of this, Ethan.” Lorenzo walks away, opening my door.
“One month. You know what will happen if you don’t,” He threatens.
Finally, I’m let go, and I slump to the floor.
“See you then boy.”
They all walk out of my apartment and close the door.
I sit there, every possible scenario running through my mind. There’s no way to keep Luna safe unless I work for that piece of shit. There’s no way I can run because he will find me and then punish Luna for me running. Fuck one month. It’s better than some get, I suppose. Maybe it’s because I’m his son or he thinks it will take that long for me to come around.
I sigh, running my hands through my hair. “Fuck my life.”
I have to tell him yes, which means I’ll be working under the biggest drug lord in New York city. How the fuck do I get out of this?
Lorenzo Vincent is one piece of work. He murders, steals and profits from everyone else’s fear. He kills people for less money than most make in a week, but he makes people fear him. He thrives on the fear, it’s what makes him unstoppable.
Coming here was a mistake, because he found me, he knows what he is to me and he used that against me.
I know what I have to do but I’ll be damned if I don’t make my last month with Luna something to remember, to keep me warm at night when I’m staring up at the sky hoping she’s happy, even if it isn’t with me.
No, I can get out of this I just have to think. Fuck, think,
Ethan.
My demons may keep me in fear, but nothing will keep me from her.
I’m sure I’ve sanded my flooring down with my shoes after spending all night pacing.
Nothing comes to me. No easy fix, no easy get-out-of-jail-free card. I mean, it may as well have been jail. Being under Lorenzo Vincent would be like being stuck in a prison. One I’ll rot in because I’d never do his dirty work.
“Fuck, man, did you go on a bender last night?” Bishop asks me as soon as I walk in.
I take a sip from the giant coffee I have in my hand. It's my third one this morning, and I’m still dog-tired. Sleep kept it’s distance last night, not even invading me once. All I could think about was how I had been searching for Luna for months, and now I’ve finally found her again, only to have to walk away yet again to keep her safe.
“Fucking hell, man, you look like fucking shit,” Bishop says in case I hadn’t heard him the first time.
“Just didn’t sleep?” I place my stuff on my desk.
Bishop must sense that I’m not ready to talk and lets me be. I can feel him staring at me so I know he will not keep quiet for long.
By lunch time. I’m a little more awake than what I was this morning but no closer to making my decision. I don’t want to give up. I can’t lose her, not again. I just got her back.
I sigh and rip the drawing I was working on out of my sketch book, scrunching it up and throwing it in the bin, then run my fingers through my hair for the thousandth time.
“Okay, spill.” Bishop sits on my desk.
I hadn’t even heard him move from his.
“Nothing to spill,” I lie.
“Bull-fucking-shit, Ethan what the fuck have you got yourself into?”
I look over at him how the fuck does he know?
“You’re obviously in some sort of trouble, right? I mean, it’s not just your girl you’ve been moping over, yeah, but this is different, you seem off.”
Well, fuck me, when did he become so observant?
I sigh and stare up at him. He gestures for me to go on as if he’s waiting.
“Lorenzo Vincent,” I say and wait.
Bishop's eyes go wide.
“What the actual fuck, Ethan? You got in with Lorenzo Vincent? I thought you were fucking clean?” He stands and storms to the front door, turning the OPEN sign to CLOSED, and when he turns around, he makes his way back.
I can tell by the vicious look on his face he is pissed.
“You have to be joking, right? You got into bed with Lorenzo Vincent. What about winning Luna back? What about changing and being better? Fuck.” He throws the stuff from my desk onto the floor.
“It’s not what you think,” I yell back, getting frustrated.
I stand, and he comes and stands right in my face.
“Not what I think, Ethan? You promised me you’ve stopped with the drugs. Fuck, you promised your girl, but apparently promises mean shit to you because you’re right back where you were four months ago. You’ve—”
“He’s my father.” My body shakes with anger.
Bishop stares at me for a few seconds in shock.
“He’s my father—my real father.” I calm myself down. I sink into my chair and place my face in my hands.
“Fuck, man, are you serious?” Bishop says, placing a hand on my shoulder.
I nod I couldn’t make this shit up if I tried.
“So he’s…?”
“Forcing me to work for him,” I finished his sentence.
“He’ll go after Luna if I don’t.” my bottom lip quivers, and I feel the tears sting my eyes. It's the first time I’ve really let reality sink in.
“Fuck, man, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—”
I hold my hand up. “It’s fine. What else would you have thought.”
“What are you going to do?”
I clear my throat and sniff. The tears still threaten to fall.
“I’ve been avoiding him, telling him no, but he came to my apartment last night and told me I had a month to give him the answer he wants or he’s going to hurt Luna. I can’t put her in the middle of this. I can’t lose her, but at least if I work for him, she’ll be able to live a normal life. Even if it is without me.”
“Fuck.” Bishop swears.
“I have no clue what the fuck to do. Either way I lose her, and I can’t tell her because I know Luna, she won’t want me to do it. But it means she gets hurt.” I wipe my hand down my face and I catch a glance at Bishop. He's just as stuck as I am.
“I wish I could tell you what to do, man, but this is Lorenzo Vincent. I’ve heard stories of the shit he’s done, and no one ever makes it out alive. He’s one sick son of a bitch. Twisted and down right fucked up, man.”
I swallow the thick lump in my throat because he’s right, no one ever gets out of debt or telling him no. You owe Lorenzo, you owe him for life, and he’s dragging me down just because I’m his blood.
“Wait, is he demanding you work for him just because he’s your father?” Bishop asks me.
I nod.
“Fuck, man, how the fuck did you find out?
“I found a letter in a bunch of stuff I was given after my father, Gerald, the man who raised me, died, and in the letter, it explained who I really was. He told me everything, told me Lorenzo had paid him and the bitch, his words not mine, to raise me and my brother. She ran off because she couldn’t cope, but he is pretty sure Lorenzo killed her. He said he’d been keeping tabs on me and knew everything about my life, including my girl. He said he’ll come for me. I didn’t think anything of it until he approached me when I first got to New York.
“Fuck, he’d been following you?”
I nod and keep going.
“He told me everything. How he was planning on retiring soon, and it was my job to step in and take over. He told me it was Brantley’s position, but since he was dead, it falls on me. I had no say in the matter. I told him he was fucking delusional and took off.”
I sigh, pulling the letter out of my desk drawer, showing Bishop.
“Jesus, fucking hell, man, you’ve had it here this whole time?” Bishop curses, taking the letter from my grip.
I nod and let him look it over. He stares at it, taking in the details of every word written down.
“Misha?” He asks.
“My mother— well, I assume she is. “Brantley looked like her, and even I have her eyes. That’s what Gerald told me anyway”
He sighs.
“Fuck me, man, this is all kinds of fucked up.”
“Yep.
“Wait! If you’re Lorenzo Vincent’s son, why did he not raise you? I mean, even if he didn’t, why not your mother?”
I shrug. “I have no idea, and it’s not something he’s willing to tell me.”
Bishop and I sit there for the rest of the day going over my options. It's lucky we didn’t have any appointments.
I just need to cherish the time I have left with Luna. I would give anything to make love to her one last time, but I don’t see her giving in anytime soon.
Ethan has left me flowers today. I don’t know what to make of it. I was really unsure of what to do. Do I send him a message to thank him? Do I just wait until he shows up and thank him then, because he would show up this is Ethan; he doesn’t go long without showing up at my door, eager to spend time with me.
Last time I saw him, he seemed off, like he had something on his mind? Is he using again?
I let out a sigh and glanced at my flowers on my nightstand. The red roses almost sparkle in the vase, taunting me, begging me to forgive him.
I grab my phone, knowing Ethan hasn’t changed his number since the last time we texted. I was so sure of it but I continued anyway.
* * *
Me: Thank you for my flowers, they're beautiful.
Ethan: You’re welcome, baby bird, I’m glad you like them.
Me: This doesn’t change anything.
The little dots appear, then disappear then reappear a
gain. What was Ethan doing?
Ethan: I know, baby bird, but you can’t blame a guy for trying. I know you just want to be friends, but maybe one day soon you’ll give me another chance and I can call you mine again.
Well, damn, how’s a girl supposed to reply to that message.
I slump back on my back on my headboard, staring at the words Ethan texted me. God, he isn’t keen to give up, is he? He truly believes I’ll forgive him and will take him back.
I see the bubbles appear again, so Ethan’s got tired of waiting for my reply.
Ethan: no pressure, baby bird, I know where I stand. For now, I’ll take it slow, but it won’t always be like this.
I sigh. He is such a smooth talker.
Me: Okay.
My reply is simple and to the point. He knows that I know he will eventually break me down, but for now he is staying in the friend zone. Where I know I am safe.
I don’t see Ethan the next day, so either he is really busy at work or he is giving me space, not that he’s cared about that before, so it seems strange.
I walk out my building, ready to get coffee. A man across the street follows me, and my stomach starts to twist with nerves. I stop to look at a small flower shop and turn my head. He’s stopped also. I swallow the nerves down and walk a little faster. He doesn’t let up and he follows me all the way to the coffee shop. I keep an eye out while I’m in line. He’s made his way across the street and he is now standing outside the coffee shop ,his eyes on me, and I turn in a fluster. My breathing quickens, fear settles in, and I can’t move. Why is this man following me? Who is he, and what does he want?
My phone rings, startling me. Daddy’s name flashes on the screen, and it helps calm my nerves.
“Hello, Daddy.” I say as I place the phone to my ear.
“Hey, cupcake, I was starting to worry. You haven’t contacted me, and I don’t want to seem like a pushy dad, so, you know.”
He chuckles, and I smile.
“Yeah, I’m sorry, Daddy. I’ve been busy with work and hanging out with Callie, you know how it is.”
He breathes deep.
“Yeah, I do but I wish my little girl would call me more, heck, even a text would keep me from worrying about you up there in the the city that never sleeps”