Fixed Parts

by J. A. Wynters

I grabbed his wrist and pulled up, then yanked it down and away from my neck. I stood to my full height and looked down into Salvatore’s eyes. The storm in his eyes raged as he nodded and smiled, “Just like that.”

  We made our way back to his car and back to the car wash. My days as a kid were over.

  PART XIV

  She was silent for a long time.

  Too long.

  That length of time that gnaws at you and brings all the wrong kinds of questions crawling from the dark recesses of your mind.

  “Mia?” She flinched at her name, as if I had struck her, and my heart plummeted. It was reaching terminal velocity and would smash against the vast emptiness of my soul and shatter.

  A single heavy tear slid down her cheek and her mouth quivered. She cleared her throat, “All I can think about are those kids.”

  I chewed the inside of my lip. I knew those images. I carried them with me like ink on my soul, all while she had but an inkling, an idea. I could feel her pain, the rawness of it cut through me.

  “I know you think you’re a monster, Gabriel, but you’re wrong. They made you who you are, and you chose to be better than all of them.”

  “Mia…”

  “I’ve been so blind, I didn’t know…”

  “Mia?”

  “It’s going to be ok, Gabriel.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  She took my hand in hers and placed it over her heart letting the sheet fall away, her naked flesh searing my hand.

  “I understand now. Forgive yourself.”

  My heart slammed in my chest. Forgiveness? I didn’t deserve any.

  As if reading my thoughts Mia leaned into me, her lips grazing mine ever so softly. I groaned at the feel of her warmth. My face leaned against hers, our breaths mingled, our hands holding on to one another, holding on to the last grain of sanity.

  “Forgive yourself, Gabriel.” She breathed it into me like one breathes life into the dying.

  I gripped her, my body craving her warmth, needing her comfort.

  I held her. Like holding on to dear life. I have opened myself bare to her and still she accepted it. Accepted me.

  The bed tilted and shifted around us as we fell into it.

  Us.

  It was a first for me. To be an us. No even as a kid, never with Alice. We were never an us, we were never a family. It was just Alice and me. Now, with Mia, I became a part of something. Something bigger than myself. I became part of an expanded universe, and I never wanted to leave.

  I pulled her close to me. I may never be able to forgive myself but I need to know without a doubt that she would forgive me.

  My mouth crashed into hers, seeking forgiveness in her full, trembling lips. Begging for absolution as I captured her mouth with hungry urgency, reclaiming her, possessing her, pleading with her. I could feel her uncertainty, it radiated from her in a scorching heat, even as she kissed me. Despite her words, she hadn’t forgiven me. Not yet.

  I broke away from her, fell off the bed and to my knees, pulling her legs off the edge. When it came to Mia, I had no problems begging for forgiveness.

  I lay a single, soft kiss on her knee. I lay another on the outside of her thigh. A third, a little higher up. My mouth peppered her legs with kisses, my hands forcing her to part them for me as I kissed her inner thighs, grazing her skin with the bristles of my growth, leaving soft red reminders of my being there. Her eyes fell closed, and her chest fell and rose at my touch.

  “Please forgive me, luce mia,” my hands slid up her ass and squeezed the delicate skin. She remained silent at my pleas.

  I could smell her want, potent and fervent. I kissed the glistening lips of her sex and inhaled her. “Forgive me,” I sighed into her, as my tongue flicked along her. She purred, her fingers scratching my scalp. My tongue fluttered around her, as I begged for mercy, beseeching her with my tongue as it traced the words around her wetness.

  I paused as she shivered, “Do you forgive me Mia?”

  Her silence forced me back as I tormented her, keeping her close but never letting her finish, watching her wage a war against me—against herself—shivering under my pleas, bending under her own will.

  She quivered and shook like a leaf above me, and once again I pulled away. An agonised moan tore from her mouth.

  “Gabriel.” Her nails dug into, my scalp.

  “Do you forgive me, mia luce?”

  “Yes,” her beautiful face was tortured and flushed, “But you need to forgive yourself.”

  I kissed her again, my tongue flicking its own brand of retribution, thanking her for my absolution—worshiping, devoting—until she crashed around my mouth in pure joy. Her hips grinding against my mouth, taking, forgiving, accepting; making that sound that lies somewhere between pain and pleasure. It was desperation and deprivation and utterly devastating. All I wanted was to bottle it up and keep it forever.

  When she settled, I placed a single kiss between her legs, enjoying the shudder, “Thank you for forgiving me.”

  “There’s nothing to forgive, Gabriel.” She gave me a smile that was almost shy, and my heart ruptured with ache. She was exquisite. She looked at my bulging erection, and when she said nothing, I knew my forgiveness came at a price. I sucked in a deep breath and stood up. My eyes roamed her body.

  Her eyes glazed over in the place where ecstasy lived. Happiness. I wanted to give it to her. But not here.

  “Where do you want to go?”

  “What?” She lifted herself off the bed on an elbow, her wild hair fell across her face.

  “You said you wanted to run away, to go somewhere. Where do you want to go?”

  “I’ve never been anywhere.” She scrunched her face as she thought about it.

  “Anywhere.”

  Her nose twitched as she thought, “I want to go to Paris.”

  “Why?”

  “Cause people say it’s the city of love,” she gave me a wicked grin and licked her top lip.

  I growled, my cock twitching, “Paris is cold this time of year. I want to take you somewhere where the sun is shining, and I can watch you run around in a bikini all day.”

  “All day?” She bit her lower lip and fluttered her eyelids.

  I lunged at the bed and she scrambled away from me shirking. I stalked her, climbing above her in a slow measured pace, feeling her skin beneath me. She taunted me with her eyes and glossy lips.

  When we were face to face, her cheek grazed mine as she whispered in my ear, “I want you to take me.”

  “Where?”

  “Everywhere.” I knew she wasn’t talking about anywhere on a map.

  I hovered at her entrance, heat radiating from everywhere.

  There was a knock at the front door that echoed through the penthouse. Our heads turned in unison to the empty living room beyond.

  “Who is that?”

  “Only one other person has the code to the elevator.”

  My forehead fell against her chest as the knocking turned into pounding, “He never comes up here.” I gave her an apologetic smile and climbed off searching for my boxers.

  Salvatore stood stoic at the door; his face blank.

  “Sorry to interrupt boss, but we need to talk,” His eyes roamed my naked torso and bulging boxers, “I wouldn’t have interrupted if it wasn’t important.”

  I sighed and nodded, my body craving Mia’s heat.

  “What is it?”

  Salvatore looked around the room, “I think we better go downstairs.”

  “This better be fucking good Salvatore.”

  “I have something to show you.”

  “What?”

  “It’s outside.”

  “Sal…”

  “Outside,” He turned and was already heading to the elevator.

  I ran to the room and grabbed my pants and shirt and apologised to Mia.

  “I’ll be right back.” I ran out as she huffed in disappointment.

  I caught up to Salvatore, hopping
as I slid legs into pants and arms into sleeves, irritated and agitated as the feeling in my pants became more uncomfortable, and my mind lingered on Mia’s mouth and how close I was to—

  Salvatore exited the elevator and walked out through the foyer and lobby, ignoring everyone. He crossed the road then stood waiting for me. I looked around, uncertainty creeping in.

  I reached Salvatore and he put his finger to his mouth. I nodded as he put his hand in his pocket, then produced a small boxy item with wires hanging out on one side. I took it in my hand and examined it, then threw it on the ground and stood on it crushing it beneath my weight.

  “Where did you find it?”

  “That one was in the kitchen. It was very well hidden—too well—which is why we didn’t see it. But I have no idea how long it’s been there or how many more are inside.”

  “You think there are more?”

  “I’m sure of it.”

  “Tell me?

  “Boss…”

  “Just spit it out Salvatore.”

  “Mia—”

  I cut him off with a shove, lifting his large frame against the brick wall.

  “Don’t,” I hissed at him.

  “She’s the only new person in our midst.”

  I winced at the truth in his words.

  Fuck.

  I set him down, digesting his words. I cradled my head in my hands, “Are you sure?”

  “No, I’m just stating facts.”

  I nodded trying to push through the doubt that was rising inside me. None of it made sense.

  “What do you want to do, boss?”

  “I want you to stop fucking calling me that Salvatore,” I clenched my fists and shut my eyes trying to think, “Someone is listening. They want information so we’ll give it to them. Then we disappear for a while and let them chase ghosts. Go to the shop, buy two first class tickets to Paris for Sunday. Make sure that when you buy the tickets, you speak loudly and clearly. Make sure you give them all the details.”

  He nodded as I spoke, Salvatore smiled and cocked his head.

  “Call the boys, you know what to do.”

  “No problem.”

  Salvatore looked down for a second and grabbed my arm as I turned away, “Be careful boss.”

  I shook his hand away and crossed the road, heading back inside.

  A feeling of unease settled inside me as I wondered who had been listening to me. To us. How had I let this happen? Let all my defences down and allowed an intruder into my home. My stomach clenched with uncertainty. Mia. I shook away the thought, disgusted I would even consider it.

  When I entered the penthouse, she was dressed again. She looked up from the book she was reading as if I had caught her doing something she shouldn’t have. The feeling made my heart sink.

  “What was that about?”

  “Business.”

  She raised an eyebrow waiting for more. I shook my head, brushing her question off.

  “You don’t trust me?”

  “Of course I do. It’s just…” there was no way to finish that sentence. I dragged a hand through my hair and took a step closer, “I wanted it to be a surprise.”

  “What?” Her eyes grew wide, and her mouth pulled into an excited grin.

  My lips twitched at the sight of her, my heart panged with the lie, “We’re going to Paris.”

  “We are?” She squealed and fell into my arms, her lips seeking mine. Her devastating kiss, hungry and deep. My hips finding hers, grinding, and seeking

  She broke away, “Not now, I have to pack.” I grunted in desperation and released her knowing I was going to suffer.

  If only I knew how much.

  I remembered why I hated public places. There were too many places to hide, too many faceless people that I couldn’t see coming. The airport was packed with the usual manner of people who exuded too much happiness. With Mia by my side, I could have almost been one of them. Almost.

  I could feel eyes on me, even if I couldn’t quite work out where they were or who they belonged to. We were being watched, and we were going to play the game right till the very end.

  Mia kept looking behind her; maybe my paranoia rubbed off on her. I winged an arm around her and lead her towards security.

  “Don’t worry, you’re safe with me.” I hoped it sounded convincing.

  We lined up at the customs counter. Lines, endless lines and permeated stink, chatter and colour—too much, too close. Most people feel safe in a crowd, I just felt exposed.

  The passport control clerk flipped through my passport. He read over my name and his eyes grew a few inches in their sockets. He glared at me, straightening his back, and looked from the picture to my face. I gave him my best smile, feeling Mia’s nervous jittering next to me.

  “One minute, sir.” His hand crawled along the wooden panel of his booth. I knew he was searching for a button. Mia gasped next to me, and I tightened my hand around her.

  A moment later a man walked over to the booth, and the two men held a whispered conversation. They eyed me, then Mia, and the older of the two grabbed our passports and stood in front of us.

  “Hello sir, madam. Would you follow me please?”

  I stared at the man, his forehead creased like and old hundred dollar note, “What seems to be the problem exactly?”

  “Would you please follow me?”

  “Why?”

  Mia’s eyes darted around as people’s heads turned, and they began to stare, “Let’s just go please.”

  She shook away from my grasp and took a step forward, indicating that we would follow wherever we were being taken.

  The little scene had brought more security guards into the room, they were eyeing me suspiciously.

  The older man led us into a corridor. The once white paint, crawled away from the wall in greying corners, and the ceiling lights hung too low, showing off all the imperfections on carpets and doors. The corridor smelt like jet fuel and over brewed coffee.

  We walked by a number of closed wooden doors with names stencilled across them.

  We stopped in front of an office door. The title ‘Immigration agent Daniel Reynolds’ hung in black letters, whose corners were peeling off with age. He closed the door behind us as we stepped inside.

  “Please sit.” He gestured to the two chairs in front of his desk, and Mia dropped into one, her face drawn, her mouth downturned.

  He held our passports, examining the pictures, “Gabriel D’Angelo?”

  “In the flesh.”

  “We’ve been waiting for you.” I heard Mia’s strangled gasp as her eyes shot to me.

  “Good. So, everything’s organised?”

  “Yes sir.” Mia did a double take as she flipped between me and Daniel. I ignored her.

  “The plane?”

  “Is waiting for you.”

  “Our passports?”

  He fumbled with the booklets in his hand, “Of course.” He reached for the stamps on his desk and, with two thuds, pressed them into our passports and placed them in my waiting hand.

  “Thank you.” With that, I put my hand out to Mia who still looked as if she had been slapped in the face.

  “What’s going on Gabriel?” I could hear the note of agitation.

  “I’ll explain on the plane, but right now we need to go.”

  “Not till you tell me what’s going on.”

  So.

  Fucking.

  Stubborn.

  I dragged my fingers through my hair and locked eyes with Mia, “I can throw you over my shoulder and carry you, or you can just trust me. Either way Mia, you’re coming with me.”

  Her eyes burned into mine, and I was losing my patience when she finally placed her hand in mine and allowed me to pull her from the chair. I sighed internally hoping the relief wasn’t obvious on my face.

  I turned back to Daniel who stood awkwardly, pretending to look at a spot on the floor, “Which way?”

  “Down the corridor and to the left. Kylie is expecting
you.”

  “Thank you,” I flashed him a smile.

  “Safe travels Mr. D’Angelo, miss.”

  We marched down the corridor. My hand at the small of Mia’s back, urging her forwards.

  Kylie was a skinny thing that looked like she lived off a diet of leaf shakes and yoga. Her thin, muscular arms hung like branches from her tight singlet that was tucked into a knee length black skirt. A pin with wings fixed above her flat chest, and her black hair stretched behind her in a tight bun.

  She smiled as we approached.

  “Sir, Ma’am. I’m Kylie and I’ll be your hostess on this trip. I understand you are anxious to be on your way. So, if you’ll follow me, we can board right away and get going.”

  We stepped into a massive hanger. The imposing structure clung onto the hot air, making the space stifling despite its size. My Bombardier Global Express gleamed in the morning light as someone slid open the doors. They creaked and moaned and a slight wind swirled inside, carrying with it the smell of Avgas.

  It was hard not to get excited seeing the beautiful machine waiting, anticipating. Its engine fuelled, its parts working, all wanting to ignite and take flight.

  Kylie climbed the stairs and joined two perfectly manicured men who stood waiting. Their uniforms ironed within an inch of their lives, shirts pressed and starched, golden bars decorated their shoulders. The men shook our hands and introduced themselves as the captain and co-captain. They smiled and joked about blue skies and smooth sailing, then turned into the cockpit and closed the door behind them.

  Kylie ushered us into the body of the plane. We stepped inside. My chest ached as Mia gasped, her expression hovering somewhere between amazed and perplexed.

  The plane was spacious, plush and spotlessly clean. It smelt like money and overindulgence. Kylie stepped around us, “Follow me please.”

  The room consisted of four leather seats, two on each end of the cabin facing one another, and a round table sat in the middle. Kylie showed us to our seats.

  “Good afternoon. Once again, my name is Kylie and I’ll be your hostess for the duration of your flight. If you could fasten your seatbelts, I’ll inform the pilot that we’re ready for take-off.”

  I could hear the click of Mia’s belt as I clicked mine. Kylie stepped out of the room, and Mia’s gaze fell on my face, “What’s going on Gabriel? Where are we going?”