by Cecilia Fyre
It was cozy in their corner and as the first chords of smooth jazz washed over them, Ricco moved closer. He put his arm around her shoulders and she leaned into him. They locked eyes for a moment, and a happiness she hadn’t thought possible after everything they’d gone through washed over her. Ricco glanced past her. Lea turned around. Nick regarded them both with a genuine smile and a sparkle in his eyes. Lea took Ricco’s hand and laced their fingers together, and he pulled her into a long kiss.
“Uh, Ricco.” One of the men sitting opposite was talking to one of the bouncers, looking worried. “There’s a scrum forming at the entrance,” he said. “Maybe we should leave before they start an invasion.”
A look of dismay marred Ricco’s features. He gripped Lea’s hand hard, and her heart beat faster. “What’s going on?”
Ricco didn't look at her. Instead, he gave Nick a fearful glance. "Paps and touts, bet you anything," he said. Lea had no idea what touts were, but the concern on Nick's features gave her a roiling sensation in her gut.
Looking serious now, Nick got up. “All right, I’ll call us cabs. Get ready to make a quick exit.”
None of the others seemed surprised. They all started moving at once, putting on their jackets and settling the check. The women kept throwing Ricco and Lea pitying, worried glances.
Lea felt a hand on her shoulder and turned around. It was Nick, but he was looking at Ricco. “Cabs will be three minutes. You okay, man?”
Lea followed Nick’s gaze. Ricco had gone pale, and he was chewing his nail. What was going on? Why was this such a big deal?
Then Lea remembered the crowds outside the gallery, the stress she had felt even though they had not even been interested in her. She took Ricco’s hand and gave it a quick squeeze. He looked at her dazedly, as if he’d forgotten she was there.
Nick leaned close to her and whispered, “Go with the girls again, okay? It’ll be all right. I’ll stay with him.”
Lisa took Lea by the arm, and they filed out after Ricco and Nick. The two couples were leading the way, and Susan brought up the rear.
When they stepped outside Lea was having a déjà vu. It was the gallery all over again, and her heart began to race. There were a dozen people waiting, and when they spotted Ricco and Nick they surged forward, surrounding them within seconds. Ricco tensed, but he smiled mechanically and started signing autographs while Nick posed for pictures, all the while staying close by Ricco’s side.
Then someone bumped hard into Lea from behind, making her stagger. As she looked up another dozen people surrounded them. They seemed different. Many of them were big, burly men. Some had expensive-looking cameras, a few held large movie posters. What happened next was over so fast Lea would later struggle to remember the details.
She was a few feet behind Ricco, who had just turned to walk toward the waiting cabs. One of the big men, carrying a large camera, put his hand on Ricco’s shoulder. He grabbed him hard, pulling Ricco backward and whispering something in his ear.
Instantly, Ricco spun around, both hands on the man, slamming him hard into the wall of the club. Lea gave a yelp of fright before surging forward, trying to grab hold of Ricco. Lisa was by her side, attempting to hold her back.
“What the fuck, man … how dare you!” Ricco’s voice was a snarl. His arm was across the other guy’s throat, and the man was struggling to throw him off. In his fury, Ricco seemed to have developed the strength to match the much bigger man.
“Ricco, no! Let him go!” Lea put a hand on Ricco’s arm. Ricco rounded on her with a thunderous expression on his face. His eyes were like two blazing coals, dark and hot red with fury.
Lea recoiled. Never had anyone looked at her like this. Ricco gripped her wrist. His hand was like a vise.
“Ricco!” There was Nick, taking Ricco by the shoulders and moving him back.
At once, Ricco’s face changed. He crumpled in on himself, leaning hard into Nick. His head dropped and his grip on Lea’s wrist went slack.
“C’mon,” Nick murmured, leading him away. A sob rose from Ricco’s throat.
Lea stood rooted to the spot, unaware of the commotion around her. What had just happened? She felt faint. Her heartbeat fast and her mind was reeling. Ricco, that sweet, funny guy, she hadn't even recognized him.
A hand on her arm startled her, but it was only Lisa. “Let’s go.”
Lea allowed herself to be led toward the waiting cabs. Helped by Nick, Ricco was just climbing into the back of the closest one. Then Nick beckoned at her.
“Come with us.”
Lea wanted to refuse, but Lisa gave her a push. “It’s okay, you can trust Nick. He’s calmed Ricco down, see?” Despite her reassuring words, Lisa looked shaken, too.
Lea dithered. Did she want to go with Ricco? Maybe she should take the subway. It wasn’t late yet, and finding her way home wouldn’t be difficult. The snarling expression on Ricco’s face flashed before her eyes again. Nick frowned at her, and Lisa nudged her again. Reluctantly, Lea made her way toward the cab.
Nick climbed into the middle seat and Lea slid in beside him. She glanced at Ricco, but he had his head lowered. The sunglasses were back in place.
"Where to?" The cab driver regarded them in the rearview mirror. Nick asked Ricco, "D'you want Lea to come back home with us?"
Ricco turned toward the window and didn’t reply. Lea felt a stab of sadness. This can’t work, just accept it. “No, Nick. I’ll go home.”
She recited her address for the driver, who huffed when she said Queens and wended into the traffic.
They didn’t speak. Lea glanced at Ricco frequently, but he didn’t move. A few times Nick murmured something in a low voice, but Ricco ignored him, too.
When they arrived outside her apartment Lea was desperate to get out. Nick held her back with a hand on her arm. There was only helplessness in his eyes. “I’m sorry.”
Lea looked away. “It’ not your fault. Don’t worry, okay?”
With one last look at Ricco, who was still staring out of the window, she clambered from the cab.
Lea watched the taxi drive away, feeling nothing but numbness. What had just happened made no sense, and she knew they couldn’t come back from this. Absent-mindedly, she rubbed her wrist where she could still feel Ricco’s grip.
As she climbed the stairs up to the apartment building in the brilliantly cold night Lea knew that she should have trusted her instincts. This thing with her and Ricco Como could never have worked.
The only thing she was surprised by was that it had taken this long to unravel.
11
He'd been paced the living room all night. Nick, exasperated and tired, had left soon after they got to Ricco's place. Ricco couldn't confide even in him, one of his best friends. They'd been through a lot together when they'd just been starting in the industry, but this was too much. Ricco felt so ashamed, it was a physical pain.
Now he was exhausted, so tired he was on the verge of tears. But he couldn’t stop moving. And just like his body wouldn’t settle, up and down, to and fro, smoking on the roof until he felt sick, his mind raced, trapped in that fucking feedback loop.
Why?
Whywhywhy?
Why had he snapped? He thought he had an answer to that. A shitty one, and he hated himself for what he had become – always stressed, antsy and less and less able to function with every new thing that freaked him out – but at least there was a reason for his reaction to that photographer’s words.
The break-in, that horrible time over the summer, had traumatized him more than he had admitted even to himself.
But why had he attacked that guy so ferociously? He’d never been violent before.
And why, oh why, had he nearly attacked Lea? Why had he reacted so badly afterward? He should’ve just explained everything in the cab, to both her and Nick. His friend knew about the break-in, but not how much it had affected Ricco. And Lea would’ve understood. She would’ve tried to help.
He didn’t want t
o lose her. The truth of that caused him pain, like a punch to the gut, a fist squeezing his insides.
And yet he had driven her away. Terrified her, given no explanation, no apology. She had no way of knowing that he would never hurt her, had never hit a woman in his life.
And anyway, would he really never lay hands on a woman? Before, he would have been absolutely certain that he could never entertain the idea of hurting his girl. But was he still that guy? Did he even fucking know himself?
His girl.
Well, she wasn’t that, she wouldn’t ever have consented to that.
I’m not a girl.
No, she wasn’t. She was so much more. But now never his.
That thought drove him back onto the roof, into the freezing, crackling darkness of New York in January. The pain as his naked feet hit the icy deck was exquisite, and he relished it.
He deserved it.
Pain for pain. Did he ever not cause suffering to those who came too close? When had he last just given pure, unadulterated joy to anyone?
He had failed Carla – as husband and father to their kid.
He had failed Ciaran – who hated the hype his dad’s fame brought.
He had failed his family – who were tired of being associated with him, branded with his notoriety, and who cared nothing for the expensive gifts he bought them in an attempt to stop those accusing looks he got every time he went home to his mother’s house.
He had failed his friends. Ricco tried to think of just one friend who had never had to pull him out of some shit or another, and couldn’t come up with a single name.
He had failed his fans, all those people who wanted a piece of him, a minute of his time. That thought was bitter as bile, and he laughed at the irony, swallowing back the nausea at the same time.
Fuck, not that. Groaning, Ricco pressed his hand to his temple. The skin here felt hot, even in the freezing cold. His vision was already fuzzy around the edges. He stubbed out his cigarette with shaky fingers, staggered back inside, nearly falling down the stairs over the cats, and made his way into the kitchen.
No. Nonono.
He had to tell her. Had to. He couldn’t fail another person, not her.
Blind with the pain he groped for the migraine pills on the counter, swallowed two, and washed them down with water from the tap.
She wouldn’t listen. He had blown it. And anyway, he didn’t have the words to describe the terror he had felt on that night last summer.
But even if it did no good, even if she never wanted to see him again, she had a right to know.
Stumbling, Ricco crawled onto the sofa and switched his MacBook on. While it booted up, he hid his face in the crook of his arm, pain pounding through his skull.
There was only one thing he could do. He had to show her everything. Let her see him for the coward he was, expose his life, this joke of an existence it had become, to her scrutiny.
Then she could judge him. Hate him for the right reason, be glad she had gotten away in time.
12
The beeping of her phone woke Lea in the middle of the night. She groped for it and squinted at the little screen. The green light indicated that she had a new email. Despite the numbness which had not left her since she had bolted from the cab, her heart beat faster when she saw who it was from.
Sender: RC
Subject: Don’t hate me…
There’s nothing I can say that’ll make this better, I know that. Can’t apologize anymore, it’s just a joke now.
But please read the attachment? I should’ve shown you this much sooner. Then you could’ve told me to fuck off before someone got hurt.
I never meant to hurt you.
R
Half asleep Lea pressed the download icon for the attached file. Just deleting the email and drawing a line under this chapter of her New York life might be the better option, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it.
Despite how Ricco had behaved she couldn’t forget that sweet, gorgeous man she had shared an amazing night with in this very bed.
A PDF file popped up on Lea’s screen and she began to read.
Ottawa Police Department
Incident Report – Domestic Trespassing and Property Damage
Date: Tuesday, July 22, 2018; 3.35 am
Protocolling officer: Sergeant S. Becker
Address: [blanked out]
Details:
At 11.30 pm on Monday, July 21, a call was received by Sergeant S. Becker, officer in charge at Ottawa PD, from [Street address blanked], Rockcliffe Park. The owner and inhabitant of the aforementioned property, Mr. Ricco Como, reported several trespassers on his property. He said he could hear them moving around outside, both at the front of the house and on the deck. Mr. Como told the officer that people had been loitering outside his house prior to this date. He had encountered them again that evening as he returned from work and had signed autographs for them (Mr. Como works as an actor on a TV show which is being filmed locally), then had asked them to leave. Mr. Como could not say with certainty whether these individuals were identical with the trespassers currently on his property.
While Sgt. Becker was still on the phone with Mr. Como the sound of glass breaking could be heard in the background. The officer asked Mr. Como the cause of the noise, and Mr. Como replied that somebody had just thrown a large paving brick through his patio door, shattering the glass. The officer immediately alerted all patrol vehicles in the area. He told Mr. Como to stay as far away from the broken door as possible, and not engage any of the intruders.
Two police vehicles arrived at the property within ten minutes and arrested the following individuals:
[blanked]
[blanked]
[blanked]
They were remanded in custody and will go before the judge in the morning on July 22. Mr. Como is still deliberating whether to press charges.
Appendix, as requested by the judge: Transcribed excerpt of the phone call audio recording
Sergeant S. Becker
Supervisor: A. Levine
Appendix: Transcript of distress call audio recording
Sergeant S. Becker [SB] – duty officer; Mr. Ricco Como [RC] – resident at [address blanked]
SB: Sir, where are you now?
RC: I… I’m in my bedroom. Think I can hear footsteps in the living room.
SB: Sir, can you lock the door to the room you’re in?
RC: I think so…wait… yes, yes… Locked it!
SB: Good. Mr. Como, I will stay on the phone with you until my colleagues arrive. They’re only five minutes away. Stay quiet, keep your voice down, and don’t engage the trespassers.
RC: Okay.
SB: Mr. Como—
RC: Can you call me Ricco?
SB: Of course. Ricco, have you got any weapons in the house?
RC: Not real ones, no. A couple of props, from set.
SB: Okay, good. Are you home alone, Ricco?
RC: My… my cats are here, too. They’re… I don’t know where they are… oh god, I have to find them!
SB: Ricco, stay calm. Listen to me. It’s not safe to go looking for your cats right now. They’ll be fine, they’re probably hiding. My priority is to keep you safe. Okay? You with me?
RC: Yeah… yeah, okay.
SB: Good. Ricco, did you see the people who threw the stone? Do you know how many there were?
RC: No… I didn’t see anyone, I just heard them. There were a lot of footsteps, out on the deck… oh god, why does this keep happening? What do they want? I can’t do this anymore.
SB: Ricco, my colleagues have arrived. They’re out front. Is there another way into the house?
RC: Yes, through… through the bedroom, where I’m now.
SB: Okay, Ricco. Stay put, the officers are coming around the house. They’ll be with you in a minute.
[end transcript]
13
For at least ten minutes Lea had been ringing the doorbell, shivering in the co
ld. She was about to give up, worried that hanging around Ricco's door would prompt one of the neighbors to call the police. It wouldn't be the first time; Carmine had told her that sometimes as many as a dozen fans congregated, hoping to catch Ricco coming or going.
Then, finally, the door buzzed open. Relieved, Lea hurried into the elevator, heart beating like crazy. This was a stupid idea. Why had she given in to that need to be with him? As she read the police report the urge to just hold him had surged. But it was three am, for crying out loud. At least she could’ve waited for a more civilized time. But no, here she was. Lea stepped from the elevator.
And just like that, when she saw him in the doorway her trepidation and any lingering resentment fled. She hurried her step.
Ricco’s hand was on the door handle, propping himself up. The other hand was on the frame, holding on so tightly his knuckles had turned white. Face ghostly pale, his eyes were red and swollen, narrowed to slits against the half-light of the corridor’s nighttime illumination. His faded T-shirt was sweat-soaked.
It was a painful déjà vu from that first, migraine-filled night.
“Shit.” Ricco groaned and rested his head on the arm against the doorframe. He let go of the door and disappeared inside. Lea hurried after him.
By the time she got into the en-suite bathroom, he was hunched over on his knees. Head resting on his crossed arms his ragged, panicky breathing was painful to hear. He moaned and retched again.
Lea hunted around for a washcloth which she soaked under the cold tap. She knelt by his side and put a hand soothingly between his shoulder blades. He quivered under her fingers.
Brushing away his sweaty hair, Lea placed the washcloth on his neck. He gave a shiver and his arms trembled. He had to have spent a considerable part of the night in this position, and now was beyond exhausted. She put an arm around his chest and helped him stay upright.
They stayed like this for a long time. Ricco was getting weaker, leaning into her heavily. At last, he sat back. His hand came up against his temple and he gave a sob.
