by Cole, Mila
I could count on one hand the number of times my dad had been angry at me.
One.
Seeing him so upset was the last thing I ever wanted.
“How could you?” His voice was deep and menacing.
“I’m sorry, Dad.” I couldn’t really explain myself. There was no safe way around it. I messed up. But it wasn’t like it was the worst thing in the world.
He threw a stack of printed photographs onto my bed, and they scattered everywhere. All of them were of me and Slick in a very compromising position. My eyes were fixated on the paper, and tears filled my eyes. I truly never wanted things to happen this way, but my feelings for Slick were real. Was he upset that I was making out with the help, or that he was so much older than me? Or was it because I was making a mockery of the family name by having PDA in a public place? I was eighteen years old. It wasn’t like it was a sex tape. However, no explanation or reprimand would be good enough for my father.
“So many fucking things are wrong here, Lighter.” His hands waved around, and I swore that I could see steam coming from his ears. “He’s hired help and is twice your age. He’s a nobody. Nobody! Do you understand what I’m saying? You look like a cheap slut!” he screamed.
So I guess it was all of the above. The tears fell down my cheeks. My father had just called me a slut. A slut.
“I’m sorry,” I cried again. “But…” I started to tell my father that I had feelings for Slick. That it was more than just some fling against the side of a building. We hadn’t even had sex. Not that he needed to know that. It was too late for that anyway. He already believed I was a slut.
Man, that hurt.
“I’ll kill him,” he yelled out as he stormed out of my room.
No!
I jumped up from my bed, still wearing the dress I had on the night before, and stomped after him. Being eighteen meant nothing to my father. I needed my mom. I needed to tell her what happened before everything leaked to public eyes. She’d understand. I was sure she would.
Slick stepped out of the elevator just as I was entering the foyer. It took about two seconds for my father to completely flip out. He had his gun drawn and was pointing it at Slick’s head.
“Dad, no!” I roared.
Slick’s hands were up in the air, his eyes trained on my father.
“Stay out of this, Lighter,” my dad commanded me.
“Mr. Derosa,” Slick said but was quickly told to shut his mouth.
“Don’t speak,” Dad told him. “Don’t you dare say a word.”
The room was eerily quiet, other than the sound of my erratic heartbeat. I knew my dad was a scary man, that he probably did a lot of things I didn’t approve of. But killing someone? He wouldn’t. He couldn’t.
I didn’t know what to do. I stood there completely freaked-out, hoping that he’d put the gun down. This was no reason to kill someone, and this side of my father was one I’d never seen before. One that I hoped I’d never see again. This wasn’t the man I loved. How could he do this? Everything was my fault.
“You’re going to get back on that elevator and leave with your life. You will never come near my daughter again. Do you hear me? If I see you, or hear mention of your name again, I’ll blow your head off.” There was venom in my father’s voice. Slick’s eyes flashed toward me, and my dad screamed out, “Don’t look at her! I’m about to take it all back and put a bullet in your head now.”
“I’m leaving,” Slick said. The words came out quickly.
No. No. No.
What had we done that was so wrong?
Tears flowed freely down my cheeks, like a dam had broken.
I realized everything in that brief second. I’d never see him again. My father was nothing if not a serious man. He’d kill Slick. I didn’t know how I knew that for sure, but the look in his eyes was pure hatred. There was no mistaking that he’d take Slick’s life because of what we’d done.
My dad was an evil man. I never wanted to see his face again.
Slick backed slowly into the elevator, never once looking in my direction. The palms of his hands were still facing my father, but he didn’t look scared. In fact, I couldn’t read the expression on his face. I’d never seen it before. But I knew that if he’d looked at me, he would’ve seen hurt, betrayal, sorrow, and pain, all wrapped into one ugly, sobbing package.
The doors closed, and he was gone.
My knees buckled, and I sat there feeling completely broken, wondering how I’d ever pick myself up again.
Twenty-Five
Slick
After the long, agonizing walk home, I told Lucy that she could leave for the day. I didn’t feel like explaining what had happened. Not that there was anything to explain. My job was done. It was gone in the blink of an eye. I knew in the moment, when the photographer was snapping our picture, that I’d lose it all. So it should’ve been no surprise when it happened. Rightfully so. I’d been all over his eighteen-year-old daughter. I had let my guard down for a second, and everything was ripped right out from underneath me. My throat burned with disgust. Could I have been more stupid?
Yes, of course I could.
Stupid was my middle name.
All my life, I had found a way to screw up in some form or fashion. True to my life’s work, I let everyone down once again.
Pathetic should’ve been my middle name, instead of stupid.
Let’s not forget that I almost lost my life in the process. The man held a gun to my head at point-blank range. Honest to goodness, if Lighter hadn’t been there, I swear he would have blown my brains out all over the place. I don’t think he would’ve thought twice about it. He still might. He may decide that letting me off with a warning just wasn’t enough and come to retaliate against me.
“Uncle J,” Chloe called out from the living room couch. “You want to watch a movie with me?”
I sipped from my beer, not caring that it was barely after seven in the morning. It was five o’clock somewhere. “Maybe in a little bit. Okay?”
She smiled up at me, like I was the most important person in the world.
My chin dropped to my chest. How could I have let this happen?
That little girl was my whole world. My everything. Not only did I screw things up in my own life, but once again I screwed up hers too. We were going to have to move again. We hadn’t even been there two months, but there was no way we could stay. Derosa had probably already hired someone to keep an eye on me. Someone waiting in the wings to swoop in and take me down.
I walked out onto the attached back patio and sat down in one of our not-so-fancy plastic chairs. The legs wobbled under my weight. Kicking up my feet, I leaned back, still thinking of the gigantic mess I’d made of our life once again.
I had my phone in my hand, about to call Tony, when a text message came through. The little message box on the front of the screen said it was from Lighter, so I opened it.
Lighter: I’m so sorry.
I texted her back, because I wanted her to know that there was nothing to be sorry for. We’d both screwed up. Neither one of us could take full responsibility when we equally were to blame.
Me: Not your fault.
Lighter: I can’t believe my father acted that way.
Me: I can.
Lighter: What are we going to do now?
Me: What do you mean? NOTHING. That’s what we’re going to do.
Lighter: I don’t understand.
Me: It cost me everything, and now I’m going to have to pack me and the kid up so we can move again. We have to start all over.
Lighter: I said that I was sorry.
Me: And I told you that you have nothing to be sorry for.
Lighter: So that’s it. We never see or talk to each other again? And you’re fine with that?
Me: It’s the way it has to be, Lighter.
Lighter: So, it was for nothing.
Me: Listen to me. You can’t call me or text me anymore. I have Chloe to think about, and I r
eally believe what your father said. This has to stop.
Lighter: FINE!
Gah. She was infuriating, and I was going to miss that smart mouth of hers. But it was for the best. We couldn’t just pretend that everything was fine and continue talking like nothing ever happened. Her father was as serious as a heart attack.
I sucked in a deep breath and released it slowly before I dialed Tony’s number. He was supposed to be off today since he was heading to Canada with Lighter tomorrow, but I was sure that Derosa had already called to inform him of what had happened. He was going to be so pissed off at me, but I had to suck it up, be a man, and make the call.
Resting my foot against the railing, I listened to the ringing in my ear. After the third ring, he finally picked up.
“You sure know how to make a mess of things, kid.” No hi or hello.
I smiled. “Yeah. I guess I do. I’m sorry, man.”
“It is what it is,” he replied nonchalantly, like it was no big deal. “I actually saw this coming from a mile away.”
“Really? Cause I didn’t.”
He laughed. “Blinders, my friend. Sometimes those love goggles make you unable to see things clearly.”
“Love goggles?”
“Oh yeah. You’ve got it bad.”
“I do not,” I retorted.
“Uh-huh.” His voice was thick with sarcasm. “You lost the girl, the job, and I’m guessing you’ve spent the last hour contemplating where you’re going to move. I’d say you got it real fucking bad, man.”
I growled into the phone, not wanting to admit that he was right. But boy was he right. “Are we cool?” I asked after a long pause. He was my best friend, and I didn’t want there to be any beef between the two of us.
“Always. You’ve been known to slip up every now and then. You’ll find the right path sooner or later, if you haven’t already found it.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
He snickered. “I’ve got to go. I’ll talk to you later. Keep your head up.”
“Talk to you later,” I said before the line went dead.
I was really going to miss working with him.
Twenty-Six
Lighter
After a sleepless night with my bedroom door locked, I was more than ready to get as far away from my father as I possibly could. I would’ve hopped on a plane last night if it were possible.
The clock on my phone said that it was 4:00 a.m. Early, yes, but our flight left at six fifteen. When I texted Trim the night before and asked if he’d be available to leave by four thirty, he’d agreed.
Thank goodness.
I wanted to be out the door before my father woke up. I couldn’t face him, or rather, I didn’t want to. There was nothing left for either of us to say. The gun pointed right at Slick’s head had said enough.
How could he be such a monster?
It wasn’t our intention to hurt my father. Subconsciously, I knew that the photographed moment between Slick and me would end badly.
I knew it.
I figured my father would flip out, probably threaten to send me away. I also knew that he’d be pissed off enough to fire Slick. But when he flipped out, things went horribly wrong. It ended up being worse then I could’ve imagined. Seeing my father just seconds away from shooting him made me wonder if I really knew him at all. Who was this man with such rage, and how could he possibly kill someone without even blinking an eye? The offense wasn’t even that bad. At least not in my eyes.
But I guess that kiss and all the feelings involved meant nothing where Slick was concerned. He seemed to have wiped his hands of the whole thing, not caring about the tiny shred of hope I had for us.
Us? Ugh. There was no us, no we, no nothing.
I must’ve read his stupid messages a hundred times last night, and they never got better. Each time, I found myself with a horrible sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach.
All I wanted to do was escape. Run like the wind and never look back. At least not for a few days. I was going to get to the bottom of this whole psycho-dad thing, if it was the last thing I did.
I grabbed my carry-on bag and rolled my small suitcase behind me. The penthouse was fairly quiet, which was exactly what I had my fingers crossed for. I wanted to make it onto the elevator and out of Philly before my father even realized I was gone.
My heart felt heavy in my chest as I tiptoed as quietly as I could through the hall. Too many things seemed to be weighing me down, mainly thoughts of Slick. When I sat down on the bench, I rested my head back against the wall. My eyes searched for him, though I knew in my heart he wouldn’t be there. For a second, I pictured him leaning against the doorframe of the kitchen, the way he had so many times before. He’d stand there, his arms crossed over his muscular chest. His full lips would be turned down into a scowl, making him seem to be much scarier than he really was. I pictured those khaki-colored slacks and the way they hugged his toned thighs. He was always so ruggedly handsome, even if he didn’t mean to be. Something about him just sucked me in.
From the first moment I’d laid eyes on him, I was hooked. He would often test my patience, wearing me down inch by inch. But not in a bad way—always in a way that made me think harder, push harder, and definitely work harder. He’d be so authoritative, in hopes of trying to scare me. But it rarely worked. Most of the time, I could dish it out as harshly as he could. He would make me feel beautiful when he’d drink in my body from top to bottom. I was really going to miss that gaze. I couldn’t remember a time when I’d ever felt so wanted in all my life.
My chest ached. My throat tightened as the elevator doors dinged before sliding open. I sat up quickly, hoping it was him, but it wasn’t. Instead, Trim stood there with a smile on his face and two coffees in his hands. It wasn’t the man I really wanted to see, but I was happy to see him nonetheless.
“Ready to go?” he asked me, passing me my coffee. Then he grabbed the handle of my luggage.
I nodded.
I was more than ready.
Over-the-moon ready.
We rode the elevator in silence to the garage, where Norman was waiting, ready to drive us to the airport. He greeted us, but neither of us said much. Of course, it was barely after four in the morning. I couldn’t speak for Trim, but mornings weren’t my thing.
When we arrived at the airport, we were allowed to board quite early since we were flying in a private jet. My father had it all arranged. We’d fly private there, and commercial (first class) back. It was all fine by me, as long as I was far away from Philly.
There was still a few more things to be done before we could take off, so I settled into one of the oversized seats and made myself comfortable. The flight attendant brought me a bottle of water and a blanket before telling me to buckle in. She told us that our flight time was five hours and ten minutes and that we had clear skies for our entire trip. I nodded but was only half listening to what she was saying. I was anxious to get going.
Trim sat in one of the seats that was in the row behind mine. He checked to make sure I was okay, but I wasn’t in the mood for conversation. I told him I was fine. All I wanted to do was rest. Once the plane was off the ground, I’d feel more at ease. I was hoping that I’d be able to get a nap in before we landed, since I hadn’t slept much the night before.
After another twenty minutes, the roar of the plane signaled us for takeoff. I watched out the small window as the ground disappeared beneath us. It happened fast. Pretty soon there were only blue skies surrounding us and Philadelphia was long gone.
Once we were in the air, my mind finally relaxed. That binding fear was slipping away, and I was able to breathe again without feeling like the air would suffocate me. The miles between my father and me were slowly adding up with every passing minute. I closed my eyes, praying that sleep would find me and wishing that everything that had happened was just a nightmare. Hoping that I’d soon wake up and that everything would go back to the way it was before.
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nbsp; * * *
After we made it through customs, we took the car that was waiting for us to my mother’s hotel. Trim and I were both more awake this time, so we talked a little on the way there. He never asked about what happened with Slick. Never even mentioned his name. Which I was thankful for. Instead, we talked lightly about the sights and the weather. He told me how he’d never been there before and was hoping he’d get to see a few things before we went back.
Something was different about Trim. It seemed like being miles away from home was relaxing to him too. It was the way he smiled and the breezy way he talked. Maybe it was a good time for him to get away too. Of course, I never asked. We kept the conversation light and the topics even lighter.
When we arrived at my mother’s hotel, Trim and I let the staff grab our bags as the two of us made our way inside. My mom’s suite had two bedrooms, and she agreed to let Trim have the spare while she and I shared the other. Normally, security would have their own room, but when arrangements were made by my father, he insisted that Trim be as close as possible. I tried to fight him on it, telling him I needed my privacy. But after the latest debacle, I was more than willing to have Trim close by. The extra protection put me at ease.
My mother’s bodyguard let us into her room, where she was standing there waiting for my arrival. I knew that I’d be emotional when I saw her, but I couldn’t fathom just how bad it would be.
The moment I saw her, I took off running. I wrapped my arms around her and broke into a fit of tears against her shoulder. All of the emotions that I’d been holding in came rushing out of me. It was like a dam broke. I couldn’t hold back any longer. I hadn’t realized how much I missed her and needed her.