by Hart, Callie
“And yet here I am.” He takes another step toward me, breaking the illusion.
“You moved out of your trailer.”
“I know.” Another step.
“You didn’t call me.”
“I know.” Another.
“You didn’t message me.”
“I know.”
My voice cracks on my last accusation. “You—you didn’t come find me.”
There’s only one foot left between us now. Alex’s expression softens at the pain in my voice. He takes his hands out of his pockets, blowing hard down his nose, and then he whispers quietly under his breath. “I know, Argento. And it fucking killed me not to.”
I’m moving before I can stop myself. I hurl myself at him, raising my fists, slamming them into the front of his leather jacket. I hit him. I hit him as hard as I can, screaming through my teeth.
“How could you do that? How could you stay away? After everything!”
Alex allows me to seethe for a second, but then he takes hold of my wrists, gently restraining me, pulling me in toward his chest. “Shhh, stop, Argento. Stop, stop, stop. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, okay. Shhh.”
My anger turns to tears. I fall against him, hiding my face in his jacket, my emotions twisting and turning like a hurricane as he wraps his arms around me and squeezes me tight against him.
“I was gonna come and get you. I was coming for you, baby, I swear. I wanted it to be a surprise,” he says into my hair. “God, I wanted to fucking surprise you. And then I just got a message from Zander, and I realized how fucking stupid I’ve been. I should have come to you right away, but there was so much to do here, and I wanted everything to be perfect, and…Silver, please, shh, please don’t cry. It’s okay. Everything’s all right. I’m here. I’m here. I’m here.”
He leans back, stooping down, cupping my face in his hands. He wants me to look at him, but my tears aren’t even close to ceasing. “Silver. Don’t you know that I love you?” he says softly. “Don’t you know that I’d do anything for you? I’d never leave you, Tesoro. Never, ever, ever. I made a fucking mistake. A big one, and I’m hoping you’ll forgive me for it, but…look. Just come with me, okay? Please. There’s something I have to show you.”
What the fuck is happening? I have no clue what he’s talking about. He’s not making any sense. I only heard him say that he wasn’t leaving Raleigh. Beyond that, my thoughts are so out of control that I don’t know which way is fucking up.
I let him take my hand and I follow after him, fighting to regain my senses as he leads me behind the hardware store, toward a steep, narrow staircase.
“What—where are you taking me?”
“Just wait and see. Everything’ll be clear in a second. Just…give me a second.” Up the stairs he goes. I climb the steps behind him, confusion clouding every corner of my mind. Before us is a blue door, the paint on the woodwork chipped and peeling, with brass numbers screwed into the wall beside it that say ‘Apt. 23a.’ Alex takes a key out of his jacket pocket, sliding it into the lock, and then pushes the blue, peeling door open.
Two seconds later, I’m standing in an apartment that…that’s full of Alex’s stuff?
“I know it’s a mess right now. I was trying to get everything set up before I came and got you, but…it won’t take long. It’ll be tidy and perfect in a couple of days. I have a new couch coming on Thursday. And new kitchen stuff, too. I just…I don’t know. Um. I guess…this is where I’m gonna be living from now on.”
I look around, completely silent and bewildered. Alex’s record player is sitting in the corner. His book shelves have all be placed in the main living space, his books already lined up in neat rows. The place smells of new carpet and fresh paint. I reach out, extending my fingers, attempting to touch the wall, but Alex quickly grabs my hand.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa, that’s, yeah…I wouldn’t do that. That’s still wet.” He looks anxious. He bites down on his bottom lip, his eyebrows slowly climbing up his forehead. “I had this big, grand plan in my head, Argento. I knew you were home, but I told myself you’d be tired and probably sleep. I wanted to come over and blindfold you. Drive you over here, like it was some big secret…but, fuck. I see how moronic that was now. I am so, so sorry. I shouldn’t have waited. I was just excited, and—”
I hold up a hand. “Stop.”
He winces. “Stop?”
“Yes. Stop. I need a moment.” I skirt the perimeter of the apartment, running my hands over his things, picking up his books, stroking my hand over the new dining table that smells of fresh wood, and Alex remains quiet. I walk into the kitchen, into first one bedroom, and then another, smaller one, already set up with a small, single bed. I inspect the bathroom, digging my fingers into the stack of fluffy towels balanced on the edge of the bath that still have their tags on them. He’s still closed-mouthed and tense when I walk back into the living room, his eyes following me as I return to stand in front of him.
“You weren’t angry with me,” I say flatly.
“Angry at you? Why would I…” he shakes his head.
“Because I put you in a dangerous situation. Because I didn’t tell you about the text messages Jake was sending me.”
“I mean, I wasn’t stoked that you didn’t tell me about that, but…no. I’d never be mad at you because Jacob Weaving is fucked in the head. You did nothing wrong, Silver.”
“Okay.” I fidget, finding it difficult to stand still. “And…you aren’t dumping me for risking your chances of winning custody of Ben?”
Alex’s eyes widen. “Dumping you? No! Fuck. Haven’t you listened to anything I’ve been telling you since we met? I am gonna ask you to marry me one of these days, Silver Parisi. Don’t fucking look at me like that. You know you want to marry me. I’m not asking you now, but one day I’m gonna ask, because I want you. I want all of you. I want our life together, whatever that looks like, no matter where we end up. There is no me leaving you. Not now. Not ever. You’re stuck with me for life. Now if you’d only stop going around, trying to get that life cut short, then I would be really fucking grateful.”
The look on my face must say everything I can’t. Alex places his hands on my hip, stepping into me. He rests his forehead against mine, breathing shakily. “Say something, Silver. Tell me you forgive me for being stupid. Tell me you’re okay. Tell me you fucking love me. I can’t take the silence anymore.”
I will never be more relieved than the moment when he cut through the rope that was strangling me to death three weeks. But the relief I feel right now comes pretty damn close.
The worry that’s been crippling me since I learned the charges against him had been dropped disintegrates into vapor. Turns out Maxie was right: any problem can be resolved or overcome if you just take a second to talk…
So I give him the answers that he needs.
“I forgive you. I’m okay. I love you, Alessandro Moretti. Now please…just shut the hell up and kiss me.”
* * *
Need to know what’s next for Alex and Silver? Want to know what Zander’s up to? Want to know if Jake gets what he deserves?
Book Three in the Raleigh Rebels series will be coming out end of September/early October 2019.
In the meantime, keep on reading if you’d like to know more about the owner of Monty’s mysterious black bag of tricks…
KEEP ON READING TO MEET THE OWNER OF MONTY’S BLACK BAG…
SLOANE
WHEN I SAY I’M A GHOST, I’M NOT BEING LITERAL. I’m very much alive. Or at least some days I hurt just enough to know I’m still clinging onto a heartbeat. No, when I say I’m a ghost, I’m referring to the fact that people rarely see me. I’m the girl in the background. The average height, average weight, average hair color, non-event that eyes skip over instead of lingering on. I slip silently through this yawning city I live in without smiling. Without having to greet anyone for days at a time. It’s been that way for the last six months. It’s rare that I have to speak to strangers, and whe
n I do it’s perfunctory; people know instinctively that I’m not primed for small talk. Today is no exception.
“Here’s your room key, Ms. Fredrich.” The receptionist in downtown Seattle’s Marriot hotel slides the plastic key card across the marble countertop. Once she’s withdrawn her hand a safe distance, I reach out and palm it.
“Thank you.”
Eyes down, she’s stapling the paperwork created by my payment. “So…business or pleasure?” The warmth in her eyes dies when she finally looks up at me and registers the blank look I’m wearing. The smile slides from her face like butter from a hot knife.
“Business,” I tell her, because nothing has ever been truer.
“Okay, well…I hope you enjoy your stay.” She looks away as soon as she’s done with the appropriate front desk script. She doesn’t ask why I’ve turned up at her hotel with no bags, or why I’m only booking in for one night. Or why I’ve left a spare key card at the front desk for a Mr. Hanson. She doesn’t ask any of that; she’s not supposed to. Eli’s given me a rundown of how this thing will play out, and so far it’s almost to the letter. I lift my purse from the desk and head to the elevator, straightening my coat.
Twenty-two, twenty-one, twenty, nineteen, eighteen….
I watch the numbers light up one by one. Each disc, the size of a dollar coin, lights up and darkens in turn, and the elevator descends while I wait, patient and unblinking. There are other people waiting for the car to arrive. If this were an office building or a shopping center, I’d take the stairs; closed spaces and I aren’t exactly the best of friends, but since this hotel is forty-seven floors high and I’ve booked a room on the forty-second floor, I’ll just have to tolerate the inconvenience of their presence.
The doors slide back and I walk in first. The other hotel residents—four businessmen—are staying somewhere mid-level, and I don’t want them brushing past me as they exit. It’s easy to label them as mid-level guys. They’re wearing mid-level-guy suits, and all four of them have mid-level-guy hair-cuts. Their accommodation is being paid for by a cost center funded by an accounting department, and accounting departments don’t spring for penthouses. They spring for double rooms with en-suites that have access to the gym and not much else. No mini bar for you, Mr. Corporate.
The lift doors roll closed and I retreat within myself, pressing my back against the rear wall of the elevator car. I close my eyes, exhale down my nose. This will all be over soon, but my heart still dances in my chest all the same. The fear of being trapped, of what I am about to do, is like a coiled snake, ready and waiting to wreak havoc on my insides.
“Hey. Hey, are you okay? You’re looking a little freaked out.”
One of them talks to me. He thinks my panic is tied to the elevator ride, which it is, but only partially. He has brown eyes, a soft, warm color that reminds me of melted chocolate. He has dimples, too, probably twenty-three or so, around my age. He looks nice. The kind of nice I might have dated once upon a time, before…before any of that became impossible.
“I’m fine, thank you,” I tell him.
“Good.” The guy with chocolate eyes smiles at me. “Deep breathing sometimes helps my sister. She’s not fond of elevators either.”
He’s so sweet. Way sweeter than I deserve, considering my purpose here today. I reward him with a watery smile—he grins back—and then the doors open, and the four of them leave. I jam my hands into my pockets to stop them from shaking. I’m alone for eighteen floors, which is better than being trapped with four strangers but still not great, and then, finally, it’s my turn to alight. This hotel is much like any other I’ve stayed in. The only difference about it, the thing that will define it from all others in my memory for as long as I live, is that I’m here for a very specific reason: to have sex with a total stranger. And I’m doing it to find my baby sister.
* * *
SLOANE
BY THE TIME I’m inside and my coat is hung neatly on the hook behind the door, I’m pretty much ready. I’m wearing what I’ve been told to wear—black lace. Eli, the private investigator I hired to help me find my sister, wasn’t any more specific than that. He’s the one who set this whole thing up.
“Sometimes money just isn’t enough to buy what you’re looking for, sweetheart. Sometimes it takes a little more… persuasion to buy information like this. I tell you what…I’ll share what I know in return for a little favor.”
“What kind of favor?”
“You spread your legs for a paying customer and I’ll tell you everything you need to know.” The disgusting pig has the audacity to smile. “Oh come now, Ms. Romera. Don’t look at me like that. You want to find your sister, don’t you?”
And in the end, I’d agreed. He was right; I do want to find Lex, and I’ll clearly do anything to make that happen. Even if I’ll never be able to live with myself afterward.
Aside from the lingerie, Eli told me to bring something else with me today, something hidden in the pocket of my jacket. I take it out and put it on. The mask is a black lace number with blood-red lace edging and makes me a feel a little more disguised at least. I hit the light switch in the bathroom and rummage in my purse for the only thing that’s going to keep me sane during this experience: a bottle of Valium. One of the perks of being a fifth-year resident is that there’s always someone available to prescribe medication when you need it, no questions asked. The sedative’s not even in my name, will never appear on my medical record. I pop one, just enough to keep me calm but not enough to make me drowsy, and then I peer into the mirror, fixing the band of my mask underneath my hair.
You look like shit, Sloane.
I tell myself this every time I look into a mirror these days. It may be the truth, but then again it may not. I’ve been staring at myself in mirrors for so long now that the reflection just doesn’t make any sense anymore. Lex was always the beautiful one. I know I have a nice body. Eli said that was the only reason he was willing to do business with me, because my tits were real and I had a nice ass. Your height might make some guys uncomfortable, but hey…not a lot you can do about that. I focus on the dark rings under my eyes, trying to remember that this is all temporary. It’s not forever. I’m a medical student after all. The body is just a machine, full of cogs and intricate parts all ticking away, working in harmony to keep you moving. Having sex is just making use of that machine, nothing more.
You can do this, Sloane. You can do this.
And then, not even two seconds later…
Lex wouldn’t want this for you. She wouldn’t want you used and abused, selling yourself for so little. I hate that voice inside my head. It makes it so hard to justify going through with this, but it’s not as though I’m auctioning off my most valuable possession for drugs or money, or even fame and fortune like some girls do. No, I am doing it out of love. Love for Lex. Any sister would do the same.
It’s been six months and I’m still no closer to finding Alexis, and this really does feel like my last resort. Eli’s smart—he’s given me just enough information to keep my hope alive, but nowhere near enough to risk me backing out of our little arrangement.
Thud, thud, thud.
“Holy shhhh—” The door. I suck my bottom lip into my mouth, trapping the curse word behind my teeth. It’s go time.
Mr. Hanson will have collected his key from the chirpy concierge downstairs. I was told to expect the knock. Let’s me know the guy I’m going to be sleeping with is here, and I have to wait in the bathroom until he comes to get me. I pull the door closed and for a brief second a rush of fear grapples hold of me. If I lock myself in here and refuse to come out, how long would he wait until he gets pissed off and leaves? I can’t do that, though. Eli would never hold up his end of the bargain, and besides…none of this matters anymore. None of it. It’s just something I have to get through.
I hear the electronic beep of the key card being accepted into the door, and the rough catch of the lock sliding back. Silence follows after that. The edge o
f the sink digs into the back of my legs as I remain frozen, leaning heavily against it, before I remember I shouldn’t do that. It’ll mark my body, and that’s against the rules, even temporary marks like that.
Thankfully the drugs begin to kick in, washing over me with a muted sense of peace. A good thing, too, because whoever is out there takes their sweet time in making themselves at home. Without it, I’d have been on the verge of making a run for it by the time a knuckle raps against the door. “Come on out. Turn the light off first,” a voice commands. It’s gruff and full of gravel, maybe the voice of a smoker? Fucking great. I’m going to have to spend the next two hours with my tongue down a smoker’s throat, and then I’m gonna have to bleach my mouth out. I turn the light off and open the door, and I’m perplexed by what I see beyond.
Nothing.
Absolutely nothing. The room is pitch black.
“Couldn’t find the light switch?”
“Don’t touch it. Just come here,” the voice tells me. He sounds young enough, and he’s alone. Not that I was expecting more than one guy, of course. Eli swore it would only be the one guy. And only this one time. I step gingerly into the room, wishing I’d paid more attention to where the furniture was positioned before I’d locked myself away. I immediately stub my toe on god only knows what and hiss with pain.
“You okay?” There’s an amused lilt to his voice, which is kind of irritating. What kind of a guy gets off on a girl breaking her toes?
“Well…I can’t see a thing,” I mutter.
“That’s the point, I’m afraid. Come here.”
If I knew where here was, I’d probably be a little less turned around. I try again, and this time I manage to stumble to the bed without colliding with anything else. The mattress dips as I climb onto it, wondering where the hell he is. I’m not half as scared as I should be. In fact, I feel almost a little giddy.