by Ethan Egorov
He found the absence of another human alarming. He’d spent the majority of his nights alone, but tonight, he found himself missing the warmth of a woman. He wondered what Rachelle and Kristina were up to. He remembered the day he met each of them and felt a tingle of sadness in the pit of his stomach, suddenly wishing he’d drank enough to blackout.
Rachelle had been a waitress at one of the restaurants he frequented. Trent had his suspicions that the restaurant was under the control of the Salvatores, but that was one of those questions he had just never broached, and his father and brother had never thought to bring it up with him. Their physical chemistry was so immediate, they slept together on the first date, and it was sex unlike anything Trent had ever experienced.
The way she could suck him off, ride him, and moan his name was the kind of thing he couldn’t just forget, even when he had other women by his side. When they weren’t having sex, admittedly, things weren’t always great. They fought a lot, and toward the end, Trent more or less just closed himself off, causing the relationship to more fizzle out awkwardly than actually end on a solid note.
But boy, when all Trent wanted was just a good lay or to be naked with a beautiful woman, there was no one better than Rachelle.
Kristina, though . . .
Now Trent really began to wish that he’d had enough alcohol to blackout and pass out.
When Trent woke the next morning, there was already some activity downstairs. The housekeepers had prepared a rather large breakfast at his father’s wishes, but the only thing Trent wished for in his groggy state was black coffee. Food wouldn’t wake him up nearly the same as some powerful caffeine would.
“You’re up awfully late this morning, aren’t you?” Antonio said dryly as Trent emerged.
“My head’s killing me,” Trent said. The family wasn’t shy about expressing hangovers, but that didn’t exactly mean Trent reveled in the chance to get them. “Can you pass me the coffee? And do we have any Tylenol here?”
“Yeah, in the top drawer,” his father said. “Guess you’re getting old, son. Trust me, it gets worse.”
Trent chuckled. The morning after his birthday celebration, seeing Lucille stabbed, and learning the circumstances behind his adoption wasn’t exactly ideal for getting an ominous warning of age.
“Thanks for the words of encouragement,” Trent said as he sat down, rubbing his temples. “Any word yet on how Saul’s wife is doing?”
“Yeah, I got a phone call from him about an hour ago,” Antonio said. “The doc says she’s making pretty good progress. He’s still insisting on staying by her side, though, which is respectable. What are your plans for today, Trent?”
Well, that’s a relief.
“Are we sure she’s all good?” Trent said.
“I mean, the doctor always said that conditions are subject to change, but it sounded like a weatherman saying it could rain. Could, but not likely. Anyway, what are you doing today?”
Trent hadn’t even thought that far ahead yet. The notion of having plans in this state of a hangover was as laughable as making them when he was in the middle of drinking. He just wanted to go to his apartment and sleep everything off.
“I’m going back to the apartment to organize a couple things,” Trent said. And then he got an idea, an idea to actually be a Salvatore, not just a body in their house. An idea for a way for him to act upon the impulses he had last night to get more involved with the family. “I also thought I’d go snoop around downtown and see if I can get a solid lead on who stabbed Saul’s wife. I need to go check our property and see the damage for myself. Of course, we know the Mikkelsons did it, but I’d still like to find out which dirtbag actually did the deed.”
Antonio looked pleasantly surprised, but whatever pride he took in seeing his adopted son take up the mantle for battle was soon replaced with heavy caution. Trent understood that his father wasn’t being passive so much as he was intelligent, but he wanted to make a difference. Now.
“Trent, I know you’re angry about it. Hell, we all are, but please be careful. This feud has taken out a lot of our people. I really don’t want to bury one of my sons. Even you.”
That resonated with Trent far more than he would have expected. Even though he knew his father loved him, there was something about being included with Tommy that made him feel that much more important.
Unfortunately for his father, that also meant he felt even more supported to go and start investigating whatever had happened. If he had that much support from his father, then he didn’t really have anything to worry about. The risk of death was worth it when you knew you’d be remembered.
“Take your time with this one, and dig around a bit before you go in guns blazing, understood?” his father said.
Trent just smiled. He wasn’t nearly as angry as when he’d started speaking, nor as groggy.
But he was more determined.
“Sure thing,” Trent said.
In the immediate moments after breakfast, Trent decided to make his way back to his apartment. When he was safely inside, he checked his messages. No one had contacted him. Typical. So much for the notion of being remembered if I die. It seemed as if the only people in the world who actually took notice of his birthday were his family. That was the good thing about the Salvatore family— they always found a way to both comfort and surprise him.
But he would be lying if he said he didn’t wish for a message of some kind from at least one former lover in his life.
He took off his overcoat and threw it on a chair he kept in the hallway just for his dirty laundry. He threw a towel from the hallway closet over his shoulder and headed to the shower, allowing it to reach his desired temperature before stepping into the hot spray. Though he didn’t feel like anything was going to really cure his hangover right now, a hot shower at least prevented the headaches and the general weariness from getting worse.
In the privacy of his own shower, Trent began to think his father’s comment that morning about getting old may have been right. It was getting increasingly harder to stay up all night and day. Despite his relative youth, he still found it difficult to stay up after midnight, usually finding himself in bed ready to fall asleep by eleven p.m.
Hate to say it, but I think I’m getting too old for this shit. Maybe, despite my best efforts, I’m just not meant to be in the family business.
On the one hand, the sight of Lucille in the hospital bed had invigorated him like nothing else had to that point. The fact that Pop was getting old— Antonio often spoke of when, not if, he’d need to go into assisted living or have more aides around— only contributed to the family’s need for further help. No one was going to get outside help in this world. It would have to come from within.
But, to his father’s point, and perhaps going beyond it, Trent had spent almost all of his life avoiding this very thing. That wouldn’t be without consequence or without some carryover to the present. There were so many things that Trent had to learn before he could make things right, but more than that, Trent had to get the right mindset. Could he do that? Could he even consider doing that for how fucked in the head he was?
He didn’t know. But he did know that hungover, the day after his birthday, with thoughts of both exes still on his mind was not the time or place to do it. He at least needed a nap of some kind.
Trent stepped out of the shower, not bothering to wrap himself up in the privacy of his own apartment. He picked up his fresh clothes and crossed the hallway to his bedroom, then busied himself towel drying his hair.
And then his heart skipped a beat when he saw a woman standing by his bed.
A woman he recognized immediately.
Kristina
The day of Trent’s birthday came, and Kristina spent it parked outside his apartment.
It was probably for the best that Trent wasn’t home right now, because the moment Kristina pulled up to the house, she had felt overwhelmed with emotion. The building didn’t mean anything, but the fac
t of the matter was, she was closer to Trent than she had been in a long, long time.
How would she react when she finally saw him? How would she feel if she saw him bringing home a different girl? She didn’t think Trent had another lady in his life, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t bring a fling home for the evening. It wasn’t quite his style, but it wasn’t out of his style either.
The hours passed. It was almost midnight, and Trent still had not come home. On the one hand, she couldn’t miss a chance to see him. The client who hired her made it very clear in their note that she was to confront Trent in a way where she could seduce him, but only with the promise of something more later. If he walked into the apartment because she’d fallen asleep and she missed it, she would have failed horribly.
But on the other hand, was anyone at this hour going to be both seduced and coherent enough to follow instructions? Trent wasn’t a raging alcoholic by any stretch of the imagination, but he wasn’t a straight-laced sober freak either. Her best guess was that he was celebrating his birthday as anyone in their twenties would, with a decent amount of alcohol but not so much as to kill someone.
She decided she was going to fall asleep in the car and wake up at sunrise. There is a bagel shop just down the street, which gave her a good chance to see Trent if he returned.
The one thing that irked her was the ambulance that had driven by followed shortly thereafter by a black car. It was the kind of car the Salvatores would have taken. Had something happened to Trent? Had something happened to a member of Trent’s family?
The truth was, she was out of the loop. She didn’t have any idea what was going on these days, and that was by design.
But she wasn’t going to be absent that much longer.
The next morning, Kristina woke up far later than expected. She checked her phone to see it was nine in the morning. Someone outside her window was looking at her, perhaps confused why an attractive redhead was sleeping in her car. She glared at them, and they got the hint, walking off, pretending to have been looking at something else.
She looked up at Trent’s apartment. Nothing had changed. There were no lights on. There was no obvious sign that Trent had opened the window. She was going to have to take matters into her own hands.
She knew approaching Trent on the street wouldn’t work as well as being in his bed. Furthermore, she knew that if she wanted some sort of personal fulfillment as well, she would best accomplish it in a place he couldn’t ignore her.
His bedroom.
So, with a sigh, she entered through the main entrance of the apartment complex and headed for the third floor. When she reached the door she was sure was Trent’s, she knocked.
She got no reply.
That was actually the best thing that Kristina could have asked for. Had Trent actually answered the door, it would have made for an incredibly uncomfortable situation, perhaps even more so than in the street. Trent could not shut a door on her in public, after all.
Using skills she had honed through her years of being around the Salvatores, she carefully picked the lock as quietly as she could, grateful that no one else was coming by and looking at her with suspicion. Once she had the lock pried open, she pushed her way in quietly, knowing that one could never be too careful.
The place was most definitely Trent’s. It had Boston Red Sox paraphernalia everywhere, and . . . yeah, it had baseball memorabilia everywhere. That was the one thing she had learned about Trent long ago— the man didn’t have many hobbies, but ask him about the Boston Red Sox and their recent run of World Series victories, and he could talk for hours as if giving a dissertation at a college.
She walked into his bedroom and observed the sheets. Her mind flashed back to the last time the two of them were naked on his bed. It was actually one of the more emotionally charged moments in her life. They both knew around that time that they were going to break up, and the result was that she wound up crying after sex. She wasn’t proud to admit that had happened, but there was no denying it.
As she stared at those sheets, she found herself almost magnetically drawn to them. She tossed her “present” for Trent on the bed, sprawled out, and rolled around on it like a cat rubbing against catnip. The sheets were far softer than the ones they had frolicked around in when they were dating. Trent had upgraded his tastes as he got older, it seemed.
She laid on her stomach, imagining Trent grabbing her hips, driving deep into her, grunting her name as she moaned his. She rolled on her back and imagined grabbing his face, pulling him in for a kiss as he filled her sex, pushing her closer and closer to the point of orgasm. These thoughts began to arouse her in real time and her hand slid into her pants. She closed her eyes.
And then the door opened.
She stopped immediately and listened intently. Trent was predictable. Whenever he got home, the first place he went was not the bedroom but the shower. Unless he had only gone outside for a bite to eat and come straight home, he was going to shower.
And sure enough, after hearing the creak of footsteps and the tossing of some clothes, she knew Trent headed for the shower. The sound of the rushing water reached the bedroom. For now, Kristina was safe.
But my, how she thought about going into the bathroom. How she thought about taking her clothes off right there, stepping foot into the shower, reaching down for his throbbing cock, and starting something that neither would be able to stop until both had come. Oh, that thought and that temptation were inescapable, the kind of thing that just could not be ignored.
She started rubbing herself, not really trying to get to orgasm, more just enjoying the moment for what it provided. She pictured his firm body, his perfectly sculpted V-shape, and everything it entailed. She remembered how he would grunt her name. It was somewhat incomprehensible, but it was still pleasurable to hear all the same. It was his way of saying that she made him feel quite good.
The water shut off, and she came to. It was time to work her magic. She stood at the base of the bed, a smirk on her face, as a cascade of nerves washed over her. She had done many things in her time in the business, some of which she was not proud to admit, but this was far from the first time she had used her seductive skills to entice a man into going along with her plan.
But this was certainly the first time she was doing so in the context of someone she had emotional feelings for.
The door opened to the bedroom.
And what she saw was something she had not expected at all.
Trent was stark naked, as without clothing as the day he had been born. She couldn’t believe it, but he looked better than when they had been together. And, naturally, her eyes drifted downward. She smiled at what she saw.
“Hi, Trent,” she said seductively.
It was not something she had to force.
Trent
“Oh, fuck! Fuck! What the fuck are you doing here?”
Kristina stood before him. Trent quickly covered himself up with the towel. Her eyes had roamed over his body, and she smiled coyly at him.
Trent could literally not believe that she was standing here before him. He imagined this had to be some sort of hangover-induced hallucination. No, hangovers did not cause hallucinations, he knew that, but something was amiss because there was no way this was actually possible.
What in the ever-loving fuck was going on?
“Hello, should I say, stranger,” she said, a hint of curiosity in her voice. “Seeing as how you don’t quite seem to recognize me like this. I just thought I’d drop in for a birthday surprise. I brought you a little something.”
A little something? A birthday surprise?
On the one hand, Trent couldn’t lie, he was thrilled to see her, and the bulge behind his towel was suggesting as much. The notion that he was about to begin the first day after his birthday by getting laid was certainly one that he didn’t want to ignore.
But on the other hand . . . really? Was this the spot she had to see him in? How the hell had she gotten in? Why
had she gotten in? What the fuck was all this?
“How the hell did you get in here?” Trent demanded.
“Pfft. Trent, you know just as well as I do we learned to pick locks as soon as we could walk to the doors,” she said.
She was far too much at ease. Though Trent detected a little bit of eagerness from her, it wasn’t like she was a nervous wreck. It was like she had coldly planned to enter in here, charm him, sleep with him, and then . . . who knew?
Unfortunately, so far, for Trent, it seemed to be working a little better than he would have liked.
“So . . . how have you been?”
How the hell can she sound so casual?
“Well,” Trent said, doing everything he could to slow his heartbeat from what felt like two hundred beats per minute. “I believe you took about seven years off my life just now by sneaking in like that. You could have called, you know.”
Kristina shrugged casually as she played with her hair.
“Oh, I know I could have, but there’s no surprise factor in that. Put your fucking pants on already, and I’ll give you your present.”
Jesus Christ. Are people just that . . . casual about this shit?
Also, is she trying to sleep with me or not? Putting pants on isn’t going to help that.
But to try and make sense of this was only getting more and more confusing with each passing moment, so Trent gave up trying and decided to put his clothes on.
As Trent changed, he swallowed a lump that had formed in his throat. It had been many years since he’d seen Kristina, the woman that never failed to make his blood boil with want and desire. Trent knew there was quite a bit of love mixed in there too. But it wasn’t just love from the relationship.
Frankly, he’d secretly been in love with all of his life. She’d always had beautiful eyes. They were the very first thing Trent always looked at when he saw her. Blue eyes and red hair were the rarest combinations of facial features, which of course, meant Kristina got the combo. And then, when you went beyond that and saw her curves and body, it became practically impossible for one to not fall for her.