by Bry Ann
“Alright, alright.”
I won’t give him a hard time. He helped me calm down before I lost my mind. Not the memory of my father. Not my inner thoughts or strength. Not the wall. No. Just him being himself. He’s great.
I turn around. When I meet his gaze again, he’s staring at me, looking lighter.
“You seem better,” he states as he walks with me out of my apartment complex to his black Camaro.
“Yeah, I was pretty freaked out. That was a lot, even by my standards.”
He glances over at me like I’m an alien. I’m suddenly so aware that I’m barefoot, in sweats, no bra, makeup free with wild hair. I was trying not to impress Frances, but Cut… I don’t know. I’m not trying to seduce him or anything, but I don’t want him to think I’m trash. That’s not something I’ve ever thought about before. I’ve always known I secretly had it together despite what everyone else thinks of me. But I really don’t want him to think I’m trash. He’s not one for superficial opinions, so if he thinks I’m trash, something’s wrong with me on the inside. Where it counts.
After a few more steps, I look at the floor and kick a stone. “So you told.”
“I told,” he confirms.
“Why? I’ll tell people that I hated that nurse for being a judgmental bitch to you, and told her off for it.”
We both refuse to look at each other. “I really don’t want you to do that, but you seemed scared. You’re a tough woman. I couldn’t sit back.”
I want to respond, but we’re at his car. He opens the door for me and helps me inside like a complete gentleman. I don’t get this guy.
“Check your phone,” he says as he gets in, settling himself in next to me. “We’re not moving ‘til you do.”
“Yes, sir.”
I fake salute and open my ancient flip phone to reveal a text from Rose.
Rose: You’re so hating me right now. Like, epically hating me. When Cut came to me, I knew I had to do something. I figured you’d die if Cut showed up at your apartment unannounced, and I knew you’d panic if I came. Sven offered to set Frances straight. His reasons were selfish. He just wanted to fuck with Frances, since everyone thinks he’s dead. But he was your best bet. Anyway, I’m sorry. Come to my house or go with Cut. We both have a room set up for you ‘til things blow over with Frances. Anyway, this concludes the longest text of all time.
When I didn’t respond, she texted again.
Rose: Pleaseeee don’t hate me. I was trying to have your back.
I stare at the texts for a long time. I think the thing that has me panicking is that I’m not mad at her. Not at all. I’m relieved. I should be mad. I should be telling her I had it under control. That I got this.
But I didn’t ‘got it’.
Not for one second.
Temporarily forgetting where I am, I drop my head in my hands and start to massage my temples.
“Ughhh, what is wrong with me?”
I sit there for a long time, holding my head, when the reality that I’m sitting in Cut’s car hits me. I immediately shoot up and look at Cut sheepishly. He’s staring at me with that same unreadable expression from before.
“Ignore that,” I mumble.
He nods. No questions asked.
I think I just fell in love with him.
Obviously, I’m kidding!
“So you read the text. What do you want to do?” He asks, clearly trying to be delicate with me.
“I mean, I can’t go with you!” I practically shriek. Cut cocks an eyebrow. “I need to see my dad. I have to. I’ll go stay with him.”
“Are you losing your mind?”
He asks it so dead seriously. He’s not kidding. I’m beginning to wonder the same thing, to be honest. I genuinely have always had it together. This is exactly why I need to see my dad. He’ll set me straight. Always has.
“I’d like to think I’m not.”
The corner of Cut’s lip twitches, but he quickly pulls it back in a line. It seems forced. Like he won’t let himself smile. I frown. I reach out and touch the corner of his mouth. Cut goes impossibly stiff.
“Why’d you do that?”
“Do what?”
He’s ramrod straight, but his eyes are boring into me, questioning me, wanting to know what my intention is here.
“Stop yourself from smiling. Smiling is what makes life pure.”
“Pure?” His voice is a low rumble. Honey flowing through my system.
I shrug. “I’ve always thought that. Smiles are pure, no matter who does it.”
Cut shifts his face so my hand slips off. “Nothing about me is pure, woman. Buckle up.”
I shouldn’t, but I miss touching him. He’s rough, gritty, and hard, but he’s everything I’m not and I find comfort in that.
I shake my head and buckle myself in.
“Happy?”
He looks at my seatbelt then back at me with a nod.
“It wasn’t a choice. We’d have sat here ‘til you did.”
“Yeah, yeah,” I grumble, rolling my eyes.
“It’s safe,” he scolds.
“Yeah, I’m very cautious about my safety,” I tease.
He shakes his head and puts the car in drive. As we pull out of the parking lot, I see Sven storming toward his car. The energy around him is black. He throws a pair of sunglasses on, adjusts his watch, and throws his car door open.
Good luck to Rose tonight.
“Where’s your dad live?” Cut asks when we’re on the open road.
That’s thoughtful. “He’s not from here. You can just take me to the train station.”
Cut scowls. “I’m not taking you to the train station at this time of night, looking like that. You have two choices: my place or Rose’s.”
“Neither of those sound appealing. Just take me back to my place.”
“Two. Choices. My place or Rose’s.”
“But—”
“Maria!” He snaps. “If you don’t choose, I will.”
“What would you choose?”
He looks at me. “Why are you asking me that?”
“I’m curious where you’d want me.”
He drops his head back against the headrest in a silent groan, but quickly looks back at the road.
“I’m taking you to Rose’s. I’ll let her deal with your odd way of coping with trauma.”
“Why did you even offer your place? It’s not like you want me all up in your space.”
“No, but Rose said you would prefer the quiet and to not be holed up with her and Sven.”
She’s right.
“I also don’t like to impose.”
He glances over at me. “You’re not imposing. I offered.”
“Out of pity,” I say, disgust evident in my voice.
“I don’t pity you, Maria. You don’t need my pity.”
No, I need you to turn the car around and take me to the room you set up for me. Or to the train station.
Anything other than schlepping me off as a problem for my friend to deal with.
12
“Are you alright? Did he hurt you?”
My gorgeous friend comes rushing over to me the second I make my way through their doorway. Sven must have been booking it, because he’s already back. Cut went the speed limit the whole time. Now that I’m not in need of a hospital, he didn’t go one mile over the speed limit. He didn’t take any risks with me in the car.
Not one.
“I’m fine. Really. He didn’t hurt me.”
“Other than your broken hand, of course,” Rose seethes.
“Yeah, other than that.”
I glance up at Sven.
“Thanks, buddy. Good timing.”
“He didn’t force you to do anything you didn’t want, correct?”
“Sven!” Rose gasps, whirling around with her mouth open. “You can’t just ask someone that! Even Maria.”
She turns back to me, looking sorry. “Ignore him. You don’t have to answer that.”
/> I shrug, my mind flashing back to the feeling of absolute powerlessness I felt when I realized Frances was going to have sex with me and I didn’t want him to. My hips bucking, trying to get him off. It didn’t happen, though. It didn’t happen. My heart hurts for the people it has happened to. I couldn’t possibly even begin to understand until I felt that fear.
“No. Nothing happened.”
“You sure?”
I nod at Sven with no humor. “Yeah, I’m sure. He wouldn’t have done anything. I really don’t think he would have been able to go that far.”
I remember that moment when I begged him to stop and he froze. He’d never done that with any of the physical harm, but he did then. He looked me dead in the eye and asked me if I was serious, if I really didn’t want it, because he knew he wouldn’t have been capable of forcing me.
He wouldn’t have done it. I’m sure. If I wasn’t, I’d unleash the full power of my higher-ranked mafia connections on his ass.
“I’m glad,” Rose interrupts. “We set up a room for you. Get settled. It’s been a long day. You can have your freedom back tomorrow.”
“Alright. Thanks, guys, I guess.”
I spin on my heel, headed toward my room, when Rose’s voice stops me.
“Maria?”
I turn. Rose is standing there in an oversized nightshirt, nibbling on her lower lip. Sven is behind her, waiting impatiently, staring at her like she’s dessert.
“You’re not mad at me, right? Cut was worried, and he’s scary, so if he was worried, I knew Frances could really hurt you. I couldn’t let that happen.”
“He’s not scary! What a horrible thing to say.”
Her eyebrows shoot up. Sven smirks behind her, amused eyes drifting up from Rose’s ass to meet mine and winks. He fucking winks at me, asshole.
But for real, where the hell did that defensiveness come from?
“I’m overtired. Ignore everything I say today. No, I’m not mad at you. I get it. But if you keep me from that mattress any longer, I’m going full bitch mode on your ass.”
Rose smiles brightly. “Night, Maria. You’re the best.”
“Love you too, babe.”
“How much is a ticket to Albany?”
“I’d be happy to look into that for you. Would you mind holding for a moment?”
“Sure. I need the cheapest ticket possible. I’m out of work.”
“Yes, ma’am. I’ll see what I can do.”
I listen to the elevator music as I pace the McDonald’s I’m currently sitting in. Rose told me she’d drive me anywhere, but I insisted on staying home. The second she was gone, I took an Uber to the McDonald’s by the mansion. I have no clue why. I have no intention of going there today. I just want to be near there.
I’m not looking into my reasoning behind that.
It just makes me feel better, and I’ve always been about that.
“Ma’am?”
“Yes!”
I hurriedly jump back on the phone.
“The cheapest ticket we have is around $449.”
“$449?! That’s bullshit!”
A mom glares at me from her table. She’s lucky she has kids, or I’d flip her off for that.
“That can’t be the cheapest thing you have.”
“I really am sorry, ma’am, it is.”
The sweet lady on the phone really does sound sorry. I have no doubts she’d give me a cheaper ticket if she could. I have to hang up before I lose it on her.
“I get it. Thank you.”
I quickly turn off and plop down in a booth. What am I doing with my life? I need to go to work. I shouldn’t have moved here.
Buzz. Buzz.
I pull out my cell phone and glance at the text box.
Unknown: It’s Lacey. Come to the house.
Me: Why are you on an unknown number?
Unknown: Just get to the house.
My eyebrows pull together. This doesn’t sound like Lacey at all. If she’d asked me to go anywhere but the mansion, I wouldn’t go. As it stands, nothing really bad would happen to me there, and Lacey really would be an awesome person to be around right now. She’s wise, but doesn’t push. Not to mention, she has been through much worse than me. She can put my problems into perspective.
Me: On my way.
Unknown: Need a ride?
Me: No, I’m at McDonald’s. I’ll walk. Meet you in ten or so.
Unknown: I’m picking you up. STAY THERE.
This is so not Lacey. What if it’s Frances? I should leave. I really need to leave, but I can’t get my feet to move. Damn pride. Stupid curiosity.
Literally two minutes later, a black Cadillac pulls up out front and honks. My heart skips a beat, but I pull it together. I’m in public. I’m dressed like myself in a strappy black bralette with ripped black shorts and high top black tennies. My hair is curled. It’ll be fine. It’s Lacey with a driver.
I hope.
I walk out front, taking one last look around to check for people in case I need to scream for help.
You know, just being prepared.
I’m glancing to my left when I hear a deep laugh.
“Maria, it’s me. Get in the damn car. Hurry.”
I look over to see Lacey’s husband leaning toward the passenger window with an impatient expression on his face. When he locks eyes with me he rolls his window up and waits, just expecting me to get in. So arrogant. I want to spite him and walk in the other direction, but I’m far too curious as to why he’s here. So, I walk my big ass to the sketchy black Cadillac and take a seat inside.
“Good to see you’re feeling more like yourself.”
“Yep, the time for moping is over.” I wish. “Why are you here?”
His lips curl up. “I realized after I sent the texts that Lacey would never text like that.”
“Ya think? Jesus, it’s like you didn’t even try.” He smiles, but it’s directed at the road, like just the topic of Lacey makes him lighter.
“That was your cell phone, wasn’t it? That’s why it was unknown. That’s why you pretended to be Lacey.”
“I won’t reveal whose cell phone that was, but I never reveal my identity via text to people other than my men. My men know not to cross me.” He glances at me. “Others don’t seem to.”
“Hey, what did I do to deserve the subtext?”
“Nothing yet.”
“Why are you here, other than to accuse me of wanting to cross you?”
“We need to talk.”
“Clearly.”
“Watch it, Ms. Vasquez.”
“Ooh, I’m so scared.”
He shakes his head, much like Cut did.
“Watch it, Maria. You snaked your way in with my wife, but don’t forget who I am.”
“Your wife needs more friends.”
He softens. “Yeah, I know. It’s been… a challenge.”
“You could start by not threatening the lives of the ones she does have, for no reason. A lesser woman would be too scared to come back around.”
“Then they don’t deserve to be around Lacey.”
“It would have nothing to do with that. You are the Boss of several families, and her husband. Fear is powerful.”
He shuts up at that.
“What are you doing here, man?”
He takes a deep breath, trying to reign in his patience to deal with me.
“I came to talk to you about Frances.”
Immediately, I freeze. I’m not ready to rehash this, especially to a man that can and would kill Frances because of what went down. I can’t handle that on my conscience.
“Who told you? Does the whole damn mafia need to know I couldn’t handle the guy? Jesus. Way to humiliate a girl.”
“It’s not about handling,” he grinds out. “I need to know if a man who works for me is capable of rape.”
My blood runs cold. I don’t know. I really don’t. Inhale, exhale, Maria.
“He didn’t rape me. I already said that.”
“I didn’t ask if he raped you. I asked if he was capable of rape. Maria, did he use physical violence or threats to push you into having sex with him?”
“I…” I don’t know! How many times do I have to say it? I can’t condemn him to death for something I really think he was about to stop. I think. What if he wasn’t going to? What if he does it to someone else? He did break my hand.
“Have there been other complaints about him before?”
“Whether or not there have been is irrelevant to you. I’m asking for your experience.”
“What if I don’t want to give it?”
“I’m not asking.”
“You can’t force me to talk.”
“I think you’ll find I can.”
A laugh bursts out of me. “Oh, what, you’re gonna torture me? Come on. I’ll tattle on you.”
“You’ll tattle? On me, for torturing you? That is honest to God the craziest statement I’ve ever heard.”
I shrug a shoulder. “I state the truth.”
“You’re nuts is what you are. No, I wasn’t going to torture you. I’ll take away your clearance to the house.”
“What? No! You can’t do that. I have no friends here! I’ll never see Lacey and I’ll barely see Rose.”
“That’s not my problem. You telling me what happened with Frances is.”
“He did break my hand, but he didn’t rape me, okay? I thought he might, but… I don’t think he’s capable. I really believe that.”
“You don’t strike me as naive.”
“I’m not. There was something in his eyes.” I think back and I already know my answer. “He’s capable of sick shit. He definitely would have broken my other hand, but listen to me when I tell you, he would not have raped me.”
“Alright, then. That’s what I needed to know. For what it’s worth, I’m sorry that he was close enough for you to see his decision not to rape you in his eyes. And I’m sorry about your hand. Now, I’ll drive you where you want to go. Where would that be?”
“Uh…” The left side of my mouth curls up. I have a brilliant idea. “Yeah, you know what? I know a way you can make it up to me.”
“Make it up to you?”