by Nova Rain
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 mean?” 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 tho
ught 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.
“Donny!” I gasped out, shortening my strides. “Just where the hell do you think you’re going? You just cost me my job, you idiot!”
“I just saved you from fifteen years in jail,” he countered, bending down over his open trunk.
“I heard the whole thing,” Donny claimed, easing the trunk shut. “You wanted to work as a stripper again. He wanted you to deal cocaine. How long would it have taken before you agreed to that?”
“I wouldn’t have,” I told him, drops of water rolling off my chin.
“Yeah, you would’ve,” he maintained, his tone steady. “You haven’t worked in weeks. You should be broke. Now, get in the car. That prick’s goons will want to know who shot their boss.”
I nodded assent and obliged him. We couldn’t discuss this in a parking lot, much less in the rain and right after a shooting. I would have gone over to my BMW, but it was way further down in the lot. By the time I’d have gotten there, Weathers’ men could already be chasing him.
“I’d have persuaded him,” I insisted, the Cadillac rolling out and onto the highway. “I don’t know how, but I would have.”
“I do,” He emphasized. “A quickie would do the trick just fine.”
“Why do you care?” I asked, unable to keep the frustration out of my voice. “You don’t want me, but you don’t want others to have me? Is that it?”
“No, Ava,” Donny blurted out another disagreement. “I promised I’d handle it. I did. That douchebag won’t bother you again.”
“So…” I gasped out, turning my head left to face him. “My protector is okay with shooting people, but he’s not okay with dating me. I can’t believe how ridiculous this sounds.”
“It doesn’t sound so ridiculous to me,” he spoke his mind, his voice somewhat louder. “My plan was to keep you away from something that could get you a prison sentence. It worked. Now, the…”
“I miss you, Donny,” I confessed with a whisper. “I know it’s not been long since we last saw each other, but I miss you. I could rely on you. I could confide in you. I can’t do either since last night.”
“I thought you could do those things with red,” he murmured, his gaze on the road up ahead.
“Are you being intentionally thick?” I spoke in frustrated tones yet again. “And what was that submission crap you gave me last night? I wouldn’t try to change you, Donny. I wouldn’t try to control you, either. All I’d want from you, is to be the same tough guy that’s been helping me out lately. My buddy.”
“Buddies don’t f—”
“Don’t say it,” I interrupted him, raising my voice over his. “You know what I mean. Weren’t you ever friends with a girl you dated?”
“Not really,” he shook his head in denial. “It was impossible. What would I tell her? ‘Hey, I broke someone’s chin today at work. He was screaming in pain, but that’s what you get when you don’t pay on time’?”
“Well…” I snorted in amuseme
nt. “You’d never have that problem with me. Anyway, just take me home. I’m done trying to change your mind about us.”
Donny tossed a glance over at me as the scene of the shooting replayed in my mind. I looked at the city lights through the wet window, sorrow gripping my heart. He had been brutal. Determined. The muscle I had never had. And the muscle I would no longer have. He had said so himself. He had carried out his plan. Donny had other things to worry about than a former stripper like me.
Suddenly, cars ahead of us began to pull away. The Cadillac slid right and into the emergency lane, before he switched off the windshield wipers. I watched in bewilderment as he leaned over, his eyes locked with mine. His warm hand brushed my drenched knuckles, and then made its way up my forearm. A tentative touch of his lips on my cheek had me wondering if he was afraid to kiss me. In a moment though, he destroyed every shred of doubt. Our mouths joined in a sweet, tender kiss, his hand stopping at the side of my neck. Little by little, he collected all the moisture, offering me a taste of what had been eluding me for days. Gentleness and warmth enveloped my senses, sending away any notion of fear and frustration. I snaked my arm around his neck, my heart fluttering in my chest. His hand moved upward; my upper lip became trapped between his lips. In a slow move, he used his thumb to swipe the water off my forehead.
“Well…” I said on an exhale, our eyes meeting in the dark. “If you’re planning on dumping me again, you’d better stop.”
“I’m not dumping you,” he whispered. “Not this time. I thought I could, but how can I go on without your wildness? Who’s going to yell at me every day?”
“Is that why you changed your mind?” I asked, my voice picking up in volume and intensity. “Because you like it when I yell at you?”
Donny let out a quick laugh. “Oh, come on. Now who’s being thick? Look…” He ceased talking altogether and reached back into his pocket. “Here’s two grand,” he added, a wad of cash bulging in his hand. “Take it.”
