Salvatore

by Cecy Robson

  Again, his focus falls to my hand before returning to my thoroughly heated face. “Shall we sit and talk?” I suggest.

  He waits for Apollo to lower himself into the loveseat before returning to the couch, a classic demonstration of dominance. Salvatore sits, leaving me space so I’ll resume my place beside him. As I take a seat, our legs brush together, sending another wave of heat to flush my skin.

  “Okay,” I begin, ignoring the feel of him watching me. “You’ve already missed nine days of school. If you miss one more―”

  “He won’t,” Sal answers for him. “Will you?”

  Apollo’s stare bounces from him to me. I continue as if uninterrupted. “You can’t miss another day without a medical reason and a note from your doctor. But, given your history, excessive absences, and the steps you’ve taken to hide the school’s warnings from your guardian, you’ll also have to attend mandatory counseling sessions.”

  He doesn’t appear resistant to counseling. In fact, his entire expression lights up as he steals a glance at Salvatore. “With who?”

  “We have a few part-time male counselors starting in a few weeks. I’m sure we’ll be able to place you in one of their slots so it doesn’t interfere with your classes.”

  “No,” he answers.

  “You don’t get a choice,” Sal fires back. “You had a choice, several, in fact. Go to school. Do the work. Keep your nose clean. You didn’t bother with any of them. So now, this is what you have to do, and what you’re going to do.”

  “No,” Apollo says, lifting his chin.

  “Are you fucking kidding me with this shit?” Sal starts to rise, but somehow my hand on his knee keeps him in place.

  Apollo’s eyes widen and he swallows hard. “I’ll only speak to Miss Aedry.”

  Salvatore frowns. “What?”

  Apollo looks at me when he answers. “No men―and not Miss Jalisa, either. I’ll talk to you or I don’t talk at all.”

  “You’re under the impression that you make the rules. If so, you’re fucking wrong.”

  Sal’s voice is so lethal, I fight the urge to withdraw from him. But knowing that my clasp on his knee is the only thing keeping this massive lion from lunging at the skinny gazelle, I stay perfectly still. “It’s okay,” I reply, patting him gently. “Apollo,” I say, fighting the urge to glance back at Salvatore. “My schedule is full. I can’t meet with you during school.”

  “You hear that?” Sal says. “She’s not available.”

  “I won’t talk to anyone else.” He bows his head. “Especially a man.”

  What the . . .

  “He’s playing you,” Sal says, causing Apollo to lift his head.

  I steal a glimpse at Salvatore, not missing the way his features darken. Maybe he’s right. Or maybe something else happened to Apollo. I can’t be sure. What I do know is that I can’t abandon this boy. I twist my body around to speak to Salvatore, keeping my voice soft. “I think there may be a way to help Apollo and Gianno. I can meet with them after school in my office and go over their work. On alternate days, I’ll take Apollo aside and meet with him privately while Gianno finishes his assignments.”

  “You’re volunteering to stay after school?” Sal asks, sounding doubtful.

  “Yes,” I respond.

  “Without pay?” he clarifies.

  “It’s not an inconvenience,” I assure him. “I’m often there anyway, catching up on reports.” I hold onto my smile when his granite expression remains firmly in place. “And this is something I’ve done in the past that’s garnered tremendous success.”

  “Why?”

  “Why have I had success?” I ask, trying to understand why he doesn’t appear to believe me. “Because in addition to counseling the students who need it, it’s an opportunity to tutor those who are struggling academically.”

  Sal holds out a hand. “I mean why do it for any of them?”

  “I told you. I want to help.”

  For a long while, Salvatore’s brown eyes sear through me, as if trying to catch traces of lies or ulterior motives. It’s not until I see him relax his guard that I think he finally trusts what I’m saying. Yet whatever softness he greets me with is lost when his focus returns to Apollo.

  “Let’s get one thing straight,” he tells him. “This is your last chance. You fuck this up, you won’t answer to Aedry, the school, or anyone else. You’ll answer to me. And you won’t like what I have to tell you . . .”

  Chapter Five

  Salvatore

  “Is Vincent fucking someone else? Without me being there, I mean?”

  When I don’t answer Donnie, she starts swearing and bends forward to snort another line.

  “Christ, Donnie,” I say. I lift the tray, tossing it, and all the blow, in the trash.

  “What the hell, Salvatore?” she screams at me, smacking her palms against my chest. “You know how much that shit costs?”

  I snag her elbow and haul her back when she tries rifling through the can. Damn, I’m so sick of this shit.

  “A few bills, maybe more?” I offer. “I don’ know. What I do know is that you’re paying for it with Vin’s money, knowing he doesn’t want you doing it.” She tries to yank herself free, but I hold tight. “Listen to me, you need to get it together. You keep pulling this insecure shit, making demands on him, he’s going toss you on your ass―are you listening?” I yell, when she tries to pull away.

  She must be, seeing she starts crying. I do a mental groan and ease her back on the bed. Vin was supposed to meet her two hours ago. She’s been sitting in here, wearing her silk robe and whatever she has under it, for at least three hours. I told her not to text him, but she did twice, asking where he was and when he was coming.

  If she was anyone else, I wouldn’t care what was happening. But, like I said, me and Donatella have known each other a long time. Except, where I always dreamed of making something of myself and getting out of Jersey, she always dreamed of landing a rich and powerful man to take care of her. She never wanted to work and, since puberty hit her hard, she never had to, not really.

  Donnie is one of those women you can’t believe is actually real, she’s so beautiful. Blonde hair dyed to perfection, nice rack, tiny waist, and all legs. She’s modeled for Playboy and Maxim, but the moment Vin noticed her a few years back, he would only let her model for him, which was fine with Donnie. She played her games, teased and taunted him, made him want her bad. When she finally let him have her, she was sure he’d never let her go. But, instead of making her his wife, Vin married someone else and kept Donnie as his gumad.

  “Can’t marry a whore,” I remember him telling me on his wedding day.

  It wasn’t what Donnie planned on, but she accepted it well enough, too blinded by the money, power, and how well he keeps her. Her mistake was believing what they had would last like a marriage. But she doesn’t believe. Not anymore.

  Can’t say I blame her.

  “I fuck those girls for him,” she says, sniffing either from her tears, the blow, or maybe both. “I do everything for him.”

  I kneel in front of her when she takes a seat in front of her vanity. “I’m going tell you something, and I need you to listen and listen good. You push Vincent, he’ll cut you loose and not look back. Too much is going down and he can’t handle more on his plate, you feel me?”

  She wipes her eyes, streaking some of her make-up. But then it’s like she suddenly hears me and puckers her lips. “Are the other bosses putting hits on him?”

  “Don’t know what you’re talking about,” I tell her. It’s not that I think Donnie’s wearing a wire. She wouldn’t betray Vin, knowing he’d order one in her skull. That doesn’t mean I think her place is safe from the Feds.

  “Shit,” she mumbles.

  “Do you have any money saved? Or is it all taking up space in your closet?” Her tight mouth makes it clear she only has what Vin gives her each week. “Maybe you should think about taking a class, going to school, something.”
>
  “He is fucking someone else.”

  I swipe at my face. “Christ, Donnie. I’m trying to give you some advice, so if and when Vin moves on―and he will move on with the way you’re acting―you have something to fall back on.” Besides another rich man she can dig her nails into.

  “I can’t,” she says, tears sliding down her face. “I have to be available for Vincent when he needs me. How will I do that if I’m sitting in some damn lecture hall?”

  For a moment, I don’t say anything. Donnie’s a little younger than me, but whether it’s all the makeup she wears, the blow she’s been doing lately, or this life she’s carved for herself, it’s aging her fast. Is she still hot? Yeah. I see it, always have. But ever since I laid my eyes on Aedry―and given how often I see her now―I don’t know, as fucked up as it sounds, I don’t look at Donnie the same.

  There’s no missing Donnie’s killer face and body. But Aedry has a rare kind of beauty you don’t find in the Tri-State area or, hell, maybe anywhere.

  “Fine,” I finally say to Donnie. “Your choice. But you have to let him want you on his terms. You fighting with him, trying to tell him when he should be here, it’s going to get old fast. Got me?” At her nod, I motion to her bathroom. “Get cleaned up in case he comes. If he doesn’t, don’t give him a hard time when he does.”

  She nods and struts toward the bathroom in a pair of crazy stilettos that are probably killing her feet. She pauses before stepping inside. “Thanks, Sal.”

  I tilt my chin, but that’s all I do. When I walk out into the living room, Lucca is already there to take over. Made men don’t watch gumads, but Vin trusts Lucca, because I trust Lucca. So, for now, Donnie should rest assured Vin doesn’t want her fucking anyone else.

  “Later, Sal,” he says, when he sees me head to the door.

  “Later, Lucca,” I say, buttoning my suit jacket to shield my piece before stepping out into the hall.

  I don’t typically watch Donnie during the day, but Vito called me to tell me she was freaking out over Vin and wanted to see me. I came, because despite Donnie’s faults, she’s a friend. Maybe the blow’s making her more paranoid, or maybe it’s the shit going down with the other bosses. Whatever it is, she’s scared to lose Vin. But her fear is going to drive him away if she keeps it up and where’s that going to leave her? On the street for sure, with no one to take care of her.

  Shit.

  I slam my driver’s side door and crank the engine, pulling onto the main road. As I leave the upscale neighborhood, I try not to think about Donnie too much. There’s nothing I can do to help her when she’s so unwilling to help herself. I’m already putting as much as I can into the trust funds I set up for Apollo and Gianno and investing what remains so, one day, I can open that MMA gym I’ve been dreaming about. I can’t support Donnie, too, especially with how much she’s pissing away.

  Worrying about what’s going to happen to her eats at my gut. But the closer I draw to the high school, the easier it is to let my frustrations with Donnie go and leave her problems behind me.

  Gianno and Apollo have spent every weekday afternoon for the last two weeks with Aedry. It doesn’t seem like a long time, but already I see a difference in their grades and in their moods. They’re not as cranky or as needy. I think the individual attention she gives them has helped. Not that I’ve spent these last few years ignoring them. I’ve taken them to the movies, baseball games, vacations, shit like that. But days off away from Vin have been rare since the summer ended.

  I haven’t been around as much lately. Not as much as I want and, based on how they’ve been slacking, probably not as much as I need to be.

  I pull up to the rear of the building, where all the buses usually idle, to the right of the teacher’s lot. The three of them step out as I set my Range Rover in park. Gianno says something I can’t quite hear, but it’s something that causes Apollo to grin and Aedry to throw back her head and laugh. I’ve never seen a woman laugh like her. It’s like her whole body feels it. She doesn’t care how loud she is, or that she’s twisting to the side and holding her belly like it hurts. She just puts it all out there. The women I go with, it’s like they have to stay in control, always worried about how they’ll look if they stray past their well-rehearsed poses.

  Aedry’s laughter fades, but she keeps her smile when I roll down the window and nod her way. She waves briefly, but then turns to my brothers to hug them goodbye. It’s something she does all the time now, and something she asked me for permission to do, so long as it was okay with them and I was present. I agreed, not thinking too much about how she believed it might help them. She spouted some theories, not that I gave them much merit. But seeing the effect it’s had . . . I get it now.

  The first time she offered, Apollo stiffened and seemed to force himself to accept it. He’s not used to affection. The last time he was hugged was at our mother’s funeral. He hated all those strangers telling him they were sorry, and touching him because they felt he needed them to. They didn’t understand that the only thing he needed was our mother back. We all did.

  Except, however awkward and hard it was for him to accept Aedry’s show of affection, he did, appearing to relax as she collected him in her slender arms.

  Now Gianno was different. Being the ladies’ man that he thinks he is, no way was he turning down the opportunity to touch a beautiful woman. But the way Aedry embraces him is very motherly and I think it screwed with his mind the first time. He cocked his head when they separated and looked at her like he was missing something. But then he smiled in a way I hadn’t seen in years. He didn’t smirk, like he usually does, because he thinks he’s too cool to smile, or in that way that tells me he’s up to no good. No, this was a real smile, making him look like a kid and reminding me how young they still are.

  My brothers like her and that’s . . . good. They need a woman like Aedry, not women like I bring to my bed―and definitely not someone like Donnie and what she’s become.

  Aedry laughs again when she releases Gianno, taking a moment to muss his hair. “See you next week, okay?”

  “Bye, Miss Aedry,” they both say, before jogging toward my ride and climbing inside.

  “Hey,” I tell them.

  “Hey,” they say back. Yeah. We’re all about the love.

  Apollo drops his backpack on the floor and starts to buckle his seatbelt when a guy about my age hops down the steps and hurries to Aedry. I frown. “Who’s that?” I ask.

  Apollo pauses. “Some dick trying to get in her pants.”

  “What?” I ask, keeping the window down.

  “Mr. Tavers. He’s the basketball coach and our gym teacher,” Gianno adds. “But, yeah, he wants to fuck her.”

  “Watch your mouth,” I growl, mostly because I don’t like what I’m seeing.

  The guy steps closer to Aedry. Aedry steps back, putting some space between them, but keeping her smile. The guy says something and motions in the direction of his car. Aedry loses her smile and shakes her head, saying something else and returning to the steps.

  “Asshole,” Gianno mutters. “May have to key his car.”

  I don’t hear the last part or maybe I do and don’t care. I’m too busy wondering why this idiot can’t take a hint and why it’s pissing me off to have him so close to her.

  Chapter Six

  Aedry

  It’s Saturday night and I have a date.

  Okay. Not really. I shift in the backseat of the car, trying to mimic my girlfriends’ excitement. I mean, I am excited. There’s no pretending that I’m not. But I’m also a little nervous and possibly terrified, too.

  When I walked Apollo and Gianno out yesterday, I did my best not to gape at Salvatore. Really, I did. Yet a man who looks and moves like him is hard to ignore and forget. He was drool-worthy in the tank and sweats he wore, and the way he looked in those tight black boxer briefs rivaled major underwear ads. But in those crisp white-collared shirts he wears beneath those sharp black suit jackets . . .
Goodness, it’s all I can do to keep my tongue from lolling to the ground each time I see him. The man drips sex instead of sweat.

  It’s pathetic how I look forward to catching glimpses of him when he picks up his brothers. After all, we’ve only spoken briefly since I left his apartment. I’ve tried to keep things professional, especially since he didn’t seem interested in me once he knew I wasn’t some skanky solicitor. But when I returned to my desk and found a thank you card from him, along with four passes to the exclusive club, Silk, I came close to losing my mind. His note, while simple, tugged at my heart.

  Thank you for helping my brothers. Hope to see you Saturday at midnight.

  Salvatore

  I didn’t dare call him to tell him I was usually asleep by midnight. Instead, I rounded up some friends to share my passes with.

  My studio apartment is located near the water, on the second floor of a converted warehouse. I have one bathroom and a small eat-in kitchen. A row of sheer curtains separates my cozy living room from my even cozier bedroom. I could probably afford something bigger, but not as nice, and definitely not in one of Jersey City’s trendier neighborhoods.

  It has its advantages, in spite of the 700 square feet of living space, like access to nearby shops, restaurants, and loads of other twenty-something professionals for neighbors. Case in point, the young single women surrounding me who, based on their delighted chatter, can’t wait to make it to Silk.

  “Fess up, Aedry,” Marilyn says, her eyes skimming to the rearview mirror as she drives. “How did you score these passes?”

  “I told you. They were given to me as a thank you.” By a hot guy who I probably have no business getting involved with.