by Nova Rain
“Fine,” he accepted, leaving a fifty-dollar bill on the counter. “You’re driving.”
Tonight just got more interesting.
I hopped off the stool and walked off towards the exit, wearing a big smile. In less than twenty minutes, I would show him my house. Naked. In sexy lingerie or however else he liked. Perhaps Helena had a point. Maybe he did need someone to talk to, but he wouldn’t mind if we did that after the sex, would he?
For some reason, he was quiet on the drive back to my place, which served me well. I was considering ways of seducing him. Any sort of discussion would have distracted me.
Putting on lingerie didn’t sound like a bad idea. I had tons of sets in my dresser, in a variety of colors. I could also surprise him, like I had done back in his apartment. Last but not least, I could walk around in my living room in a skimpy baby doll. Some cleavage and the view of my bare legs would definitely do the trick.
Once we reached my house, I left Donny in the living room and headed to my bedroom. As I yanked the top drawer of my dresser open, I had second thoughts about wearing lingerie. My options were just too many. I would keep him waiting too long. So, I chose to just take all my clothes off and go back out.
“Are you ready for me, Falcone?” I assumed my husky voice, swaying my hips. Yet, a mere glance at the couch set fire to my hopes of getting lucky that night. Donny had leaned back, his arm on the armrest and his eyes shut. Noticing the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest, I bent towards him and kissed him on the cheek. I didn’t like this at all, but he had given me something in return: the view of his handsome face in total peace. After what he had described to me in the bar, I didn’t think he would sleep anytime soon. Still, with my help, he was in Morpheus’s arms. I covered him with a blanket and tiptoed out of my living room, in the hope that he would remember this.
Chapter Thirteen
Donny
A cold sensation against my cheek brought me back into the world of the awake. My face was stuck in the gap between an armrest and the back of a white, leather couch. I was under a pink blanket that had teddy bears on it. I looked around, worry beginning to set in. Fairly soon, however, a picture frame of Ava and Helena on the coffee table next to me sent any nasty feelings away. A folded paper in front of that frame had my name on it.
“Good morning, sleepyhead
I hope you found my couch comfortable. To be honest with you, when you agreed to spend the night at my place, I thought we’d do a lot of things on that couch. Having you falling asleep on it wasn’t one of them. I’m an understanding girl, though. I know yesterday was a long day for you.
Please, don’t hate me for being so forward. You know me. At least, you know me enough to guess that I wasn’t going to be nice. I can’t keep that promise with you. You make me feel wanted, Donny. Every time you call me ‘knockout,’ I want to throw you in bed and do all sorts of crazy things with you.
Which is also the problem. I’d love it if you and I kept having this much fun in bed, but I’d also like to know where we stand. Meet me tonight at ‘90’s Rocks.’ Nine o’clock. Don’t worry. This time, I’ll be all alone.
Ava”
This was wonderful… Someone had put a hit out on me and my friends, and Ava wanted to know if whatever we had was going somewhere. It wasn’t enough that I had to worry about getting whacked. No. I had to concern myself with Ava’s feelings, too.
Under normal circumstances, it wouldn’t be a problem. I would have the time and the peace of mind to take everything into account and reach a decision. Still, these circumstances were not normal. My friends and I were up against an enemy who didn’t think twice about demolishing a house in Tribeca. We didn’t have a clue about who it was. The one thing we did know, was that he hated our guts. More than that, I suspected that he wasn’t part of the organization. Contrary to popular belief, the Mafia doesn’t like to tie up loose ends in such a sensational manner. They prefer doing things quietly, without drawing too much attention to themselves. Both the bombing and that shooting were the exact opposite of that.
Amid fear and uncertainty, Ava wanted me to concentrate on something other than the discovery of our enemy’s identity.
Right.
It would be a cold day in hell before I could do that.
In any case, I decided to meet with her that night. The two of us had become closer. Finally, we had gone past the phase of talking down to each other. Standing her up would lead to more bitching and this time, she would be right to be mad at me.
Under the sounds of Guns ‘n’ Roses “Paradise City,” I strolled into “90’s Rocks.” I ordered my favorite whiskey and walked over to the table in the upper left corner. I sat down and faced the somewhat empty bar, wondering how this date would play out. Date? No. It didn’t feel like one. It felt more like two friends meeting each other to clear the air between them. I wasn’t looking forward to any intimacy. I just hoped that in the next hour or so, things between me and Ava wouldn’t go back to the way they were.
Within minutes, I spotted her heading to the bar, in an outfit that turned quite a few heads in the room. A tight, burgundy dress that reached partway down her thighs, matching heels and black pantyhose. With a glass of vodka and lemon and her white coat draped around her back, she strode over to my table. Her bright smile was the icing on a ridiculously sexy cake.
“Hey, you,” she chirped, sitting down across from me. “How long have you been here?”
“Not long,” I uttered in a bass-deep voice. “Great outfit.”
“Thank you.” Ava nodded in appreciation. “I put it on for you.”
Although it flattered me, I chose to ignore that comment and looked down at my whiskey.
“What, that’s it?” Surprise sent her voice up an octave. “You don’t have anything to s—?”
“You wanted to talk to me about something,” I interrupted, my tone lazy. “I’m waiting.”
“Okay then…” Ava drew in a sharp breath. “What are we, Donny? Are we friends? Friends with benefits? Lovers?”
“None of the above,” I responded, shifting my gaze up to hers. “We’re two, very screwed up people that lean on each other these days.”
“Maybe, but this leaning has helped me through some rough times,” she confessed, her voice a bit gentler as she rested her forearms on the table. “I like it, but I want more. I want a relationship with you.”
I laughed in bitterness and rolled my gaze down to her hands. “No, you don’t.”
“Why do you say that?” Ava wondered in a stronger voice.
“When I walked in here last night, I remembered why my boys and I love ‘Keep the Faith.’” I began, a bitter smile forming on my face. “That song’s a pretty good description of what we’ve been going through in this life. It reminds us we’re still alive, because we’ve been keeping our faith in each other. There’s one lyric in it that describes all three of us, too. ‘I’m broken like an arrow.’ We’re all broken, Ava. Joe’s got Michelle. She’ll fix him, because she’s led a straight life. But if you and I get together, we’re only going to mess each other up more.”
“So, you’re saying we need to be dating normal people,” she concluded, an ironic expression dominating her face. “I don’t think so. Been there, done that. They bored me to tears and got on my nerves, because they all tried to control me. They knew I was a stripper, and yet, after four or five dates, they started telling me to get a decent job. That was all she wrote. It’s different with you, Donny.” Ava sweetened her voice and leaned forward. “I feel comfortable around you. You know who I am, you know the things I’ve done, and you’re okay with them. You’re not trying to change me.”
“I did tell you to stop selling coke,” I reminded her, bringing my gaze back to hers.
“I would have done that anyways,” she claimed, inching her fingers towards mine. “It’s put me in enough trouble already, and it’s going to take a miracle for me to get out of that trouble.”
“What do you mea
n?” I asked, feeling her fingertips caress my knuckles.
“Carlton Hackman, my supplier, got killed in a car accident on the I-78, a week ago,” Ava went on. “He and Tony Weathers owned ‘Smoking Lace.’ Weathers didn’t interfere with the dealing. The death of his partner changed that. He’s been calling and leaving me messages since yesterday morning. He wants me to come back. The girls don’t trust his goons like they trust me.”
“I’ll handle it,” I muttered, a desire to hold her hand shooting through my body. Nevertheless, I had to swallow it, along with the desire to satisfy her other request.
“How?”
“I’ll figure it out,” I spoke in a more abrupt tone. “I need to get out of here,” I told her, gripping the edge of the table as I got up.
“Donny, where are you going?!” Ava exclaimed, jumping from her seat. “We didn’t finish our conversation.”
“Yes, we did,” I disagreed. “It ain’t going to happen between us, darling. Two broken people can’t make each other whole.”
“There’s that ‘broken’ thing again!” She complained, throwing a glare up at me. “You’ve been in this life since you were a teenager for God’s sake. Are you telling me you’ve only dated normal women all this time? Because I don’t believe it.”
“You’re right. I’ve dated the likes of you, too,” I admitted, keeping my cool. “Here’s the problem, though. Things never got serious with those girls. You want us to get serious. If you were happy with the way things were, you wouldn’t have left me that letter.”
“What is wrong with having something real?” She asked, her voice starting to tremble.
“Submission,” I retorted, moving around the table. “I look at Joe, and I can’t help but wonder where the hell my friend is. Michelle’s turned a lion into a fucking lap dog. You want a real relationship? Find someone who wants to be tamed. Goodnight.”
At that, I passed her by and made my way across the barroom. I heard her call out my name once.
Twice.
I didn’t stop.
I would not stop.
Why? Because I was afraid that another glance at her would convince me. One more look at that juicy figure of hers, would lead me to accept something I’d been dreading. I couldn’t have that. No matter how much I liked her, no matter how much I wanted another night with her, I just couldn’t stomach the fact that she’d try to tame me. I might have been broken, but I still had my pride. And I wouldn’t let anyone take it from me.
Chapter Fourteen
Ava
What a dick…
What a stupid dick…
I tried to explain to him how good we’d be together, because we could be ourselves with each other, and he thought I was going to try and change him.
He hadn’t been listening. At least, that’s what I thought. If he had been, he would have caught the part where I’d said that he hadn’t tried to change me. I loved that. It showed respect for my personality. I’d be damned if I ever tried to do that to him. I liked him just the way he was. Rough. Ready to kick ass to protect me. A great kisser. A wonderful lover. In his mind, though, I was just another Michelle. Sooner or later, I would treat him like she treated Joe.
Donny had a point about those two. In the months that had followed after their reunion, she’d tried to turn that brute into “a man that society could accept.” This was her excuse. To her, it didn’t matter that she had accepted him. Michelle used to say that they were entering a whole new world, full of well-educated men in designer suits. She just couldn’t present Joe to them if he didn’t change a few things.
Manners. The way he talked. The way he walked. Last but not least, his wardrobe.
He and I weren’t exactly friends, but this was the one time I felt sorry for him. He had to go through a huge makeover just to be with the woman he loved. Was she worth it? Only he could answer that question.
For all my issues with Donny, however, I had an even bigger one: the fifty-six dollars in my pocket. I couldn’t go on like this. Sadly, for me, my options were limited. I could either go back to taking my clothes off for a living or sell cocaine to a handful of my ex-colleagues. Option number two wasn’t just bad. It was catastrophic in more ways than one. First of all, I had promised to quit. Second, even if I found the heart to break that promise, that money wasn’t enough to cover my basic needs, like rent. So, I decided to head back to “Smoking Lace” and see if I could get my old job back.
I had been in the clutches of sadness long before I reached the club that night. Yes, Donny had proven too stubborn and headstrong, but I liked having him around. It was nice to know that he would hear me out. He would not criticize my mistakes, probably because his own faults were even bigger than mine. And after all that, my new friend would show me an amazing time in bed. It had happened just once, but I was positive it would happen again. Even if it didn’t, I’d be content with the first two things. Furthermore, when Michelle asked me to work for her, I thought that my stripping days were over. I thought I’d said “goodbye” to poles, skimpy outfits and leering eyes once and for all. Going back to all that felt like a step down.
And sweeping my eyes across that dark club helped me realized that it was. Anita, a six-foot blonde was at the edge of the stage, topless, as she swung her hips. Below her, the usual morons waved one-dollar bills in an attempt to get her attention.
I tore my gaze away, more waves of sadness pouring into my heart. I strode through the tables, for once not being the center of attention in that place. How could I be with my clothes on? Settling my gaze on the dark corridor to the left of the bar, I remembered Donny’s expression every time he called me “stripper.” He frowned, like he was referring to a piece of garbage. Still, I had to pay the rent and buy supplies. I needed money for both of those.
Light was coming from the room at the end of the corridor, revealing the dark gray of the carpet. I was ten yards away when a nasty smell rushed into my nostrils. I’d smelled that before at Don parties: cigar smoke, thick, pure and capable of stirring up my insides. I found Tony Weathers going over invoices in his executive chair, a cigar in the ashtray on his left.
“Well, well, well…” he smirked, setting the stack of papers down on the desk. “The return of the prodigal dealer. I was starting to think you’d been ignoring me. Where have you been?”
“Hi, Tony,” I spoke in reluctance. “How are things around here?”
“Are you really interested or are you just trying to avoid answering?” He posed the question, his stupid smile staying on.
“Where I’ve been is none of your business,” I said, assuming a firm tone, standing five feet from his desk.
“Oh, but it is,” he disagreed and rose up from his chair. “It has been for a few days now. One of the girls quit because she ran out of coke. She wouldn’t buy from my boys. You see, they’re new here. Those chicks don’t trust them. If anyone else quits, I’ll have to take drastic measures.”
“Well, I can’t help you with dealing, but I can help you by filling the gap that girl left,” I stated, folding my arms across my chest.
“Forget about it, babe,” Weathers rejected my suggestion, assuming a more serious expression. “I can get a new stripper anytime I want. A trusted dealer? Nope. You’re starting again tonight.”
“Change of plans.” I heard a familiar male voice behind me. Before I could make a sound, I felt some pressure on my hip and waves of shock washed over me. Donny pushed me aside, and then raised his gun up to Tony’s forehead. “She’s out, punk.”
“What’s this? Some kind of joke?” Weathers’ irony reappeared, causing my heart to jump in my throat.
Donny selected silence over speaking. Flipping the gun upward, he gripped it by the barrel. A quick swing later, and Weathers cried in agony and reeled back. The entire desk bounced up as his body hit its surface, hard. Three footsteps brought Donny closer to him. Without even flinching, he stuck his gun down to Tony’s calf.
“I bet you don’t think it�
��s funny now, do you?” Donny growled, pinning him down with a forearm across his chest.
“Is that all you got?” Tony taunted, blood dribbling out of a wound on his temple.
Once again, Donny didn’t have anything to say. He pressed the silencer against Weathers’ calf and pulled the trigger once. A sharp sound filled the room before the owner’s cries raised goosebumps all over my body.
“You motherfucker! You shot me!” He shouted, thrashing about underneath Donny.
“Repeat after me,” Donny grumbled, slowly returning his weapon to Weathers’ forehead. “Ava Rockwell is done dealing coke.”
“Ava…” Weathers coughed out. “Ava Rockwell is done dealing coke.”
“Call her again, and the next bullet goes in your head,” Donny threatened, once more remaining expressionless. “You’d better pray not to see me in here again.”
He pulled his gun away and turned around, without even glancing at me. I watched him in amazement as he cleared the room, while Weathers dropped to the floor. But I wasn’t going to let Donny leave like this. He had just screwed up my chance of getting my old job back.
I stormed out of the office, wishing I had just a little light. The dark corridor didn’t help me see much. By the time I ran back out into the bar, Donny was at the exit.
“Damn you, Falcone…” I said to myself, understanding that he had no intention of stopping. My breath getting heavier, I pushed the heavy door open. In an instant, I recognized his old Cadillac. It stood out in a parking lot full of much smaller and newer cars. Donny himself was twenty yards away from it, walking alongside an electric-blue Harley Davidson, his back to me.
“Stop!” I yelled, raindrops landing on my head as I sprinted forward. “Falcone! Stop!”
To my disappointment, the soles of my flats were drenched in moments. I felt the cold wetness driving through my bones, threatening to put an end to my run. If that didn’t, a nasty fall would. I didn’t think twice. I didn’t care whether I fell or not. I needed to talk to him and let him know of his mistake.