by S. C. Ellen
He leaves in a rush, and I don’t realize I’m holding my breath until he’s gone and I start to fill my lungs with oxygen again.
I am beyond shaken, and at that moment, I hate him. I hate him with every fiber of my being. He’s cold, cruel, and has an extremely messed-up view of the world. Gosh, how could I ever think otherwise?
Whatever happened to him as a boy must have been incredibly scarring because it turned him into a sick and sadistic asshole who gets off on hurting and putting down other people.
It’s terrifying, really. How someone can look so appealing to the eye on the outside, but on the inside, they’re heavily flawed and downright ugly.
Yet, even with the way I’m feeling, I can’t help but think if it’s all an act? Is he that way because it’s a defense mechanism he’s learned to build to keep him from getting hurt ever again? Or is he truly wired that way?
More questions…adding more pieces to the unsolved puzzle that is Carson.
He’s so hot and cold; I don’t think I’d ever truly figure him out even if I tried…
But the most concerning part is, why does his warning only entice my drive to find out more?
After the silent and strained car ride home, Carson went straight to his room and hasn’t left it in hours. I decide that now would be a good time to call my mother back, and after two rings, her scolding voice comes through the line.
“Alayna Marie, you have some nerve ignoring a call from the person who gave birth to you!”
I sigh. She is exactly where I get my overly dramatic tendencies from.
“Hello to you, too, Mother.”
“You know it’s Sunday dinner tonight. I need you here as soon as possible to help. Your father told me that we are having a special plus-one tonight.”
I wince just thinking about how awkward it’s going to be. Especially after today.
I finish up the call, informing her that we would be over soon, and make my way upstairs to start getting ready.
Even though we aren’t exactly on great terms right now, I figure I should warn Carson to start getting ready, as well. I give a knock and wait for him to answer. After a few seconds of no response, I try again. “Hey, Carson?” I ask a bit loudly. Still no answer. In a last-ditch effort, I try the knob and am surprised to see that it is unlocked. I briefly push open the door and peek my head through, immediately regretting my decision of doing so.
Fresh from a shower, Carson stands before me in nothing but a towel.
His long, wet hair is brushed to the back of his head, showing off his well-structured face. Water droplets course his skin, causing a gleam that makes him look even more captivating. The towel he wears dips so low on his hips it’s almost sinful.
It’s unfair how unbelievably sexy he is, and for one reason or another, my eyes can’t get enough of him.
From his tattooed chest and arms, to the mouthwatering six-pack, and that sexy ‘V’ that leads straight down his hips, I have to squeeze my legs together to keep myself from combusting at the sight of him.
His muscles tense as he finally notices me in the room and takes off his headphones that were on full volume. No doubt the reason why he didn’t hear me knocking in the first place. He faces me with a questioning glare, obviously still angry from earlier. I quickly regather my thoughts on why I busted in here unannounced in the first place.
“Sorry for the intrusion, but it’s family dinner tonight.”
“Family dinner?” He wipes a water droplet from his forehead and runs a hand through his hair. It cascades across his face in tiny waves, and it takes everything in me not to stay where I am.
“Yup, ummm… It’s a big deal in my family. Dress nice or my mom will crucify you.” And with that I run out of there like a bat out of hell before I do something I might regret later.
After an hour, I am ready and straightening the creases in my strapless dress.
“Alayna, do you have a minute?” Carson asks as I enter the kitchen and find him making himself a drink.
I raise an eyebrow in suspicion but comply.
He turns to face me, his eyes scanning the entire length of my body, almost drinking me in. I can feel an invisible pull begging me to look into his eyes, but I can’t. Not after today. He lets out a breath. “I want to apologize for earlier…” he begins, and my eyes widen in surprise. After everything that went down, an apology is the last thing I ever expected out of him, so the red flags are raised high. “I didn’t mean to take my anger out on you. I’m just used to being and doing things on my own. I guess this is an adjustment for the both of us.”
I bite the inside of my cheek, not saying a word.
“You look nice, by the way.” He turns back around to his drink, pouring dark liquid into the glass.
I blink, feeling more mentally exhausted than ever before, but can you blame me? I can’t keep up with the guy! “Thank you… I guess.”
He rubs his neck sheepishly and takes a sip of his drink.
“Good idea, you’re gonna need some liquid courage to survive tonight. Actually, I think I might need it more than you.” He hands over the glass, and I help myself, taking the drink from his hand and downing a heady gulp of it. When I hand it back, he eyes me over the rim, and consciously takes a sip out of the same side as I did with a swift lick of his lips.
“Tasty.”
Oh.
Putting the tumbler down into the sink, he retrieves his car keys from his front coat pocket, but not before he’s able to disguise the look I catch in his eyes that are sparking with approval.
“Ready to go?” he asks.
“As ready as I’ll ever be.”
Alayna
Making our way up the steps to my old childhood home, Carson zeroes in on the spot Vitaly Pavlov was taken down. Of course, no one could ever tell since all traces of that fateful night were completely erased, never to be seen again. Ignoring the disturbing thought, I sigh and inwardly pray that this night doesn’t turn out too terribly. The large, double doors open for us, and we walk into the grand foyer. I hear Carson let out a low whistle as he takes in the black marble floor, the imperial staircase, and the obnoxiously expensive Greek fountain standing high and mighty in the middle of it all. A beautiful Italian song flows through the speakers set up around the house, as Lena, our old housemaid, greets us. “May I take your coat, Mr. Granvil?” Her greying hair and the wrinkles around her eyes give her a kind and friendly appeal.
My two little cousins are the first to greet us. They come running from the den, and nearly knock over my father’s precious statue. “I knew he was here! I knew it! Tell me you’re seeing him too, Max!” My little seven-year-old cousin jumps excitedly, as he stares up at Carson.
“He’s even bigger than I imagined, Mario!” Max, his younger four-year-old brother comes up from behind him, with his favorite blanket in tow.
“What are you two talking about?” I ask, confused.
Simultaneously, they both yell out, “Blizzard!!!”
I stare at them, dumbfounded. Apparently, I was the only one in the whole world who had no idea about who Carson really was. How sad is that?
Carson casually shrugs off the stupefied look that’s clear on my face, as he regards the two kids with a tight smile. “You can call me Carson if you want.”
“No way! You’re Blizzard! I want to be just like you when I grow up!” Mario shouts, having a pretend boxing match with the air. I can see that the statement makes Carson a bit uncomfortable, so I decide to step in.
“Come on, little ones, let’s see what Uncle Vinny has for you today.” I grab both of their hands and lead them into my father’s home office, with Carson trailing close behind.
As we make our way inside, Max and Mario run up to my father, taking refuge on either side of his lap. “Uncle Vin! Look who’s here! It’s Blizzard, Uncle Vin!”
My father looks up from the boys and playfully goes along with them. “Well, would you look at that? It is him!” The kids squeal in delight as
my father reaches behind both of their ears, retrieving two giant chocolate coins.
I smile as the shock registers on their faces. “Uncle Vin is a magician!!” Max cheers.
“Let’s go tell Momma!” Both boys run out with their coins in a fit of giggles.
“You always were good at that,” I greet, giving him a kiss on the cheek, any signs of his anger with me now long forgotten—typically how it usually goes. He can never stay mad at me for too long.
“Fast hands.” he amusingly explains. “Though, Carson couldn’t be fooled. Always caught me before I could pull a quick one on him.”
With a smug smile, Carson shrugs. “I was always too clever for tricks. Still am.”
I stand bewildered, forgetting for a moment that Carson was also practically raised by my father. Of course, he would have some of the same upbringing as I did. It’s just a bit weird because I have no idea the extent of my father’s involvement in his life growing up.
“Well, your mother was practically buzzing with excitement when I told her who was coming to dinner tonight. So, let’s not keep the Queen waiting.”
We all make our way to the dining room and recognize that my mom truly outdid herself today. The long, cherry wood table is set up with her favorite fine china sitting on top of her gold linen placemats. In the center of the table is a beautiful crystal centerpiece, with only the best plucked roses from the garden inside of it. Flanking the rest of the table are candles already lit and giving off the sweetest aroma I have ever smelled.
She is the queen of all things extravagant. She comes into the dining room dressed to the nines in her best pearls and diamonds, and I would have expected nothing less from her.
“Vita mia! I knew that was you!” She gives me a quick hug and turns her attention to the man of the hour. “Oh, mio! And this must be the handsome Carson! It is so nice to finally meet you!” She grabs both of his shoulders in a tight embrace, planting a single kiss on both of his cheeks.
He looks a little uneasy, but nonetheless, returns the gesture. “Nice to finally meet you, as well, Mrs. Sofia. I appreciate you inviting me over to join your family for dinner.”
“Nonsense! You have every right to be here. It may sound crazy, but with the way my Vincenzo raised you, you are practically like my son!”
My eyes nearly bug out of their sockets hearing my mom say that. Thinking he’s practically her son? What the hell would that make me? His stepsister? Just thinking about it turns my cheeks a deep shade of red with all those dirty thoughts I’ve had about him. He throws a quick glance at me and returns to my mother with another tight smile.
Jase suddenly walks into the room. “Enough with the chit-chat, a growing boy needs to eat.”
My mother scolds him with a hand on her hip, “I didn’t raise you to be a Neanderthal, Jase Pentalini.”
His eyes scan the room and stop on me. “Where’s T?”
Tessa usually joins us on Sundays, but occasionally she skips out to visit her own mother at the nursing home.
“Why do you care?”
“I don’t.” And with that, Jase leaves, only to return with a bottle of Jack. Tipping the bottle in offering toward Carson, he nods, and Jase pours them both a drink.
The kitchen door swings open, and my father’s sister, Valentina, comes barging through. “Make way! Coming through! Hot plate coming through!” She sets the plate of lasagna down, and glances straight away at Carson.
“Well, who is this handsome fella? Alayna, did you finally settle down with a good man? Oh, I approve! Good for you, mia cara.” Giving me a wink and a thumbs-up, she glances over at him again, and makes her way over to my ear, quietly whispering, “He is delicious!” Nonchalantly gesturing the well-known chef’s kiss, as if he were a tasty meal or something.
I nearly die right then and there.
“Momma mia! Is it hot in here, or is it just me?” My aunt playfully pretends to fan herself, and I don’t think my face could get any redder than it already is.
My uncle Romario comes barging in through the door, with Mario clinging on his neck and Max clinging to his leg. “Okay, whoever gave them chocolate before dinner definitely wanted to torture me tonight.”
“Blame Uncle Vinny!” Max shouts, dragging behind his father’s leg.
“Don’t be a rat, Max! Daddy said people who are rats are filthy, slimy, scum dicks!”
“Okayyyy, and that’s why we don’t let Daddy talk business around the children!” My aunt Valentina pries Mario off his father’s neck, scolding him for the use of bad language.
The pride on my father’s and uncle’s faces is so evident, I would have laughed if I weren’t already so embarrassed.
“Raising them right, Ro.” My dad laughs before taking a seat at the head of the table.
“Damn right.” My uncle takes Jase’s bottle of Jack, pouring himself and my father a glass.
“Cin cin!” both men shout, clinking in ‘cheers’ before taking a sip.
I roll my eyes. Men.
“Carson, why don’t you sit?” my father acknowledges, pointing to the chair next to him.
Aunt Valentina’s head snaps up. “Carson?”
My mom intervenes, “Yes, Val. Carson, Carson, as in the boy Vincenzo raised. Not Al’s boyfriend.”
She looks at me apologetically, and then to Carson. “I’m sorry. I tend to jump to conclusions far too quickly.” Her husband gives a slight grunt in agreement, and she gives him a death glare before turning her attention back over to Carson. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”
Carson gives her a small, reassuring smile, and takes a seat on my father’s right side.
“I’m not going to welcome you to our table, because quite frankly, I’ve seen you more times than I’ve cared to,” Uncle Romario tells him before taking a seat next to Jase.
Carson takes a sip of his drink. “Can’t say I don’t feel the same.”
All the men at the table agree and laugh all the while. My uncle works for my dad as one of his capos, so it only makes sense he and Carson know each other.
“Vita mia, come help your aunt and me in the kitchen.”
I follow my mother and aunt, and as soon as we are out of sight, my aunt immediately grabs hold of me.
“Mi dispiace! I’m so sorry! I had no idea that was him!” Her usual flawless face is now contorted into a grimace.
I reassure her that it’s fine, even though I’m still cringing over it.
“Holy hotness! Someone please tell me who that man is sitting next to Uncle Vinny.” My eighteen-year-old cousin, Liliana, flies in through the door.
I sigh; poor Carson is way too good-looking for apparently all of the Pentalini women’s health.
My aunt and cousin shriek together. “Isn’t he a looker? The things I would do if I were twenty years younger…”
“Gross, Aunt Val, you’re married with kids,” I state, taking a steaming plate of chicken piccata out from the oven.
“A woman can still dream.”
Well, at least I can safely say, judging by their reactions, that I might not be totally crazy for having all these irrational thoughts about him.
“You’re late, Liliana.” My mother doesn’t look up while she continues mixing her pot of mashed potatoes.
“I know, blame Poppa. He lost track of time visiting Momma’s grave again.” She nervously fidgets with a string on her tight, black dress.
My mom nods in sympathy, “Did you see the beautiful flower arrangement I had sent over? Lilacs were always her favorite.”
Liliana bites her lip. “Yeah, Poppa said she would have loved them.”
My heart goes out to her at the moment, as it’s still really hard for her to talk about her mother’s passing. She was my mother’s older sister, and unfortunately, she passed when Liliana was only ten years old. I wish I could say it was from an illness, but of course it came from the life her husband chose to be a part of. He was responsible for delivering an important package to a local MC the familia
works with, when he shamelessly chose to get plastered at a nearby bar, instead of following through with the order. In return, the MC’s leader was killed by the Russians for failure of delivery, and the MC took their revenge out on her. It was a tragedy that could have all been avoided if Vito had just gotten help when my father had offered. Now, Liliana is an only child and had to grow up quite fast to take care of her father, who still hasn’t come to terms with her death.
Changing the subject to lift the mood, Liliana asks again, “So is anyone going to clue me in on who the hell he is, or am I going to be left in the dark? Is he a friend of Jase’s?”
My mother hands her a plate of ravioli, “Here, take this and go ask him yourself.”
“Oh, don’t mind if I do.” She laughs as she makes her way out of the kitchen.
An unfamiliar wave of jealousy washes over me, and I shake my head at the thought. What is wrong with me? So what if my younger cousin has a crush on him? She’s beautiful with her long, auburn hair, hazel eyes, and killer body. She deserves to be happy, and any guy would be lucky to have her.
Carson having her, though…it doesn’t sit right with me.
I pick up a bottle of Merlot and head out to fill everyone’s wine glasses. I say a quick hello to Liliana’s dad, Vito, but he ignores me as usual, taking a heady drink of his wine instead. Liliana gives me an apologetic smile as she sets the table with the silverware.
I see her making her way over to Carson, purposely pushing herself up against him as she places the cutlery in front of him. Hot, spiked anger rolls through me, and I can’t keep my eyes off of the two.
She gives him a bright grin, and he politely gives one back.
Why is he getting to me like this? I detest him… Don’t I?