SLICK

by Peavey Marshall

  The girl nodded before she jumped at the sound of the sizzling pan. Lisa went back to cooking as Caly stared at Castor.

  He wasn't looking at her as he resumed talking in Italian on his phone. When his conversation ended, Cas set the table before he sat next to her. "What are you doing here, Callista?"

  He still refused to face her that Caly was befuddled. Did something happen?

  Before she could ask, Lisa set a plate of eggs, bacon, and a stack of toasted bread on the table. She even placed Caly her share.

  They started eating but Callista remained stiff as she eyed the egg in front of her, cringing at the yellow oozing liquid. She heard Castor breathed a long sigh as he switched their plates. He stood up for a minute, opened the fridge, and laid a cinnamon roll on her plate.

  "I'm sorry," Lisa mumbled. "I only found eggs in the—"

  "It's fine. She just hates runny eggs," Castor answered for her. "She's more of a scrambled type.”

  "Well, you like those runny ones so it's not a waste." Callista smiled though Cas only nodded.

  They ate in silence while Caly's mind swirled with questions. As they finished, Cas didn't look at her again. She had a feeling that he knew what she was up to. She drank a glass of water, hoping it could subjugate her nerves.

  "Miss Caly?" Lisa started, licking her lips in apprehension. "Do you know what happened yesterday?"

  Callista's heart hammered in fear as Lisa launched into an explanation. Her nails bit into her palms as she took the stairs to Castor's room. She didn't know that Vincent had died because she had been with Franco. She had been a horrible friend. Guilt had felt foreign to Callista before but at this moment, it pierced through her like burning icicles.

  And Vince died? Just like that?

  Her throat burned as her heart squeezed. She only knew Vince through Cas but his death made her breathing harder. What more would it do to Castor?

  "Cas?" she mumbled softly, pushing his door open.

  Castor Luciano stuffed his bag with black notebooks before he inserted a gun behind his jeans. His ebony hair turned into a darker blond. It was wet, dripping on the collar of his black shirt.

  "What?" he replied, eyes on his phone.

  "I'm sorry."

  Castor stood still for a minute that the girl held her breath. Her eyes widened when Cas hid his phone and marched to her. He paused in front of her, let out a soft sigh before his knuckles traced her cheek. His thumb drew circles on her skin. "It's okay."

  Callista met his green eyes. "Really?"

  "Yeah," he responded, emerald eyes sparkled with tenacious ferocity. "Nothing can bring me down on my knees.”

  Caly believed that line to be true. She had never seen Castor falter or stumble, let alone kneel. But she doubted it now. She could see right through him and knew that his words were for his sake more than hers.

  "Stop that." Castor scolded. He touched his forehead to hers, their eyes locked in a silent battle. A myriad of emotions flashed on his green irises before a mask of detachment settled on his face. Then, he spoke. "I'm okay. So, go do your own thing."

  Her own thing?

  He did know.

  Caly watched as Castor busied himself on his phone again. She couldn't help but worry that her lips moved before she could stop it. "I want to go to Queens too."

  His head snapped to hers. "What? It's dangerous right now."

  "Well..." Callista folded in arms. She knew that it was her heart who's ruling now but she didn't care. His best friend needed her. "You did promise me that I will meet your mother.”

  Castor's forehead creased in a mix of confusion and concern. "Are you sure? If you do, you're only allowed to stay in the house. Is that all right?"

  "Yes. No problem."

  ***

  CHAPTER 30

  Their place in Queens was ten times bigger than what he had in Manhattan. The mansion was surrounded by a green Bermuda field and an expansive garden with an enormous gazebo. He drove his Bugatti inside and parked by the entrance. He threw the keys at a servant as they got out.

  "It's a lot bigger," Caly commented beside him, flipping her long hair backward. "I don't like it.”

  He chuckled and turned to Lisa. "Go by the pool. Marcus will meet you there."

  The curly-haired girl nodded and went inside while Castor clutched Caly's hand. He tugged her to the massive garden where the scent of flowers was enticing him.

  "Wow," Callista exclaimed when they reached an archway made from purple bougainvilleas. "Is this what made you interested in flowers?"

  Castor tightened his hold on her. "Not really."

  He could feel Caly's doubtful gaze but he ignored it. They stepped on petals and dried leaves alike before reaching the slabs of concrete that lead to the wooden gazebo. Hanging plants adorned the place with a bonsai garden by the entrance. His mother usually resides in the gazebo, reading a book of myths or flowers. But today, they found her tending to her newly-planted peonies.

  "Mom."

  Celeste Luciano twisted her head to the pair. She stood up from her crouching position, yanking the dirty gloves off her dainty fingers. Her sapphire eyes scanned the younger girl's form.

  "Ah, the girl I've heard so much about." Celeste's blonde tresses shimmered against the sun's rays. She smiled and lurched forward to seize Caly in a hug.

  Castor stood awkwardly, scratching at his neck. "Caly's here for a short visit."

  "Oh," her mother muttered, her long-sleeved blue dress waving against the wind. She placed her palms on Callista's cheeks. "You're so beautiful. You suit my son well."

  "Uhm, I'm not—"

  "Although, if Apollo is here, he'd suit you better," Celesta stated. "Cas is okay, of course." She added with a silly laugh. "But still, you should have the best.”

  There it was, Castor thought grimly.

  Callista's grey eyes flew to his. It was filled with questions and a flicker of annoyance. He shook his head in response, begging her to remain quiet.

  "I agree, Ma'am," Caly replied with a forced smile. "And it seems we're disturbing you. We can go ahead."

  Castor cleared his throat. "I'll show her around, Mother."

  Celeste tipped her head, not losing the mirth she had upon seeing Callista. "Sure. Be a good host, Castor. You know your brother would.”

  Callista yanked his arm the moment his mother spun around. They reached the other side of the garden before Caly saw it fit to shout at him. "What was that? Why is she like that?"

  "I'm used to it," he responded.

  "What? No! I'm gonna tell her." She marched past him before Castor snaked a muscled arm around her waist.

  "This is exactly why I don't wanna bring you here." Cas held her struggling form on his arms. His fingers carded through her raven locks. "Calm down."

  Callista stared up at him. She rested a warm palm on his cheek. "Why didn't you tell me about this before?”

  "Because it's not necessary," Castor replied. "I'm fine."

  Caly remained quiet, glaring at him with insistence. Castor began to feel self-conscious, a defense forming on the tip of his tongue but the girl sighed. She stepped back from him. "If you say so."

  Caly knew he was lying but Castor remained resolute. He dragged her past another flower arch to the area where different varieties of roses bloomed. There was a small pond with a wooden bridge on the center surrounded by turquoise-colored flowers and floating white waterlilies. Rose bushes formed in a circle around them in shades of white to red.

  Castor took in the bliss that overtook Callista's face. Sunlight showered her slender form. Her white off-shoulder dress hugged her form but the long-sleeves were see-through. The gossamer fabric rippled over her light tanned skin. Her raven locks were sleek, falling over her shoulders. She beamed at him and her happiness made him warm all over. God, he wanted to kiss her.

  "What?" Caly arched an eyebrow as he noticed his keen stare.

  "Nothing." He shook his head and bent down to pick the biggest English rose. H
e snapped the stem and threw the thorns away.

  "Oh, no. I know what you want to do." Caly's laughs trickled from her lips in a melodious tone.

  Castor chuckled. "Everyone does this."

  Callista shook her head but let him tuck the rose on her ear. "You're so cheesy.”

  "It's a gift." His voice was somber that Caly blinked repeatedly. "A goodbye gift."

  "W-what?"

  His fingers settled on her shoulders. Castor never imagined they would come to this point. "Let's not meet for a while.”

  Shock passed her face. She took a step back as her silver eyes sharpened in his direction. "Is that so?"

  "Caly, it's only for—"

  "It's okay," Callista stated. "It's okay. If our friendship stops here, I don't mind at all.”

  Castor had never thought there were harsher words than 'I don't love you'. But here it was. He felt his heart ripped. Over and over again. "That's what you want?" he rasped.

  "You said it yourself." Callista's tempestuous gaze sent terror through his heart.

  Fuck. What did he do? He knew her better than anyone but Callista Genovese still managed to confound her.

  "You're really..." he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "You're unbelievable."

  "What?" she snarled as she seized the flower from her ear and slapped it to his chest. "Be glad that I'm making it easy for you."

  "Whatever, Caly." He scoffed, stomping on the huge rose. "I'll ask Dos to take you home."

  Callista pasted a smile on her lips. "Great idea.”

  Castor Luciano watched as she trudged away. He hoped she would look back but there was no reluctance in her step. Of course. Callista was always so certain of everything. She's someone who wouldn't go back on her word even if she turns out wrong. Even if that decision hurts her and the people around her. She hadn't even apologized for leaving three years ago. What did he expect?

  He inhaled deeply and went to find his father's office. It took him a minute before he pushed the door open. The old man was reading a book, prying his eyes away from the pages when Castor entered.

  "You're here," Nicholas Luciano muttered softly.

  Castor swallowed his shame. "I'm sorry."

  The older man shook his head. "It's okay." He circled the desk and went to his son, offering an encouraging smile. "The question is, what are you going to do now?"

  "I already did something but—after this..." he began. He met his father's worried gaze. "You should put Marcus in charge."

  "Castor!"

  "Dad, I'm not..." His throat constricted. "I'll just fuck up again.”

  "Fine," Nicholas responded with a snap. He swiveled back to his desk, shoulders tensed in frustration. "But you know, I didn't choose you because you are my son. I hope you realize that."

  Castor could only nod. He felt the fight left his body that when he reached the kitchen, he gladly grabbed a bottle of whiskey. He opened it and drank directly from the mouth. The alcohol burned against his throat but his heart continued tearing.

  It had been years since his mother's words tore through him. 'He was used to it'. That's what he told himself, again and again, and again. The tears in his heart would eventually heal. He had faith that it would. But no. It didn't. He was wrong.

  That small tear his mother started, it got bigger as the years go by.

  Now, it felt like there was a gaping hole in his chest.

  Castor sat on the stool, determined to drown his sorrows when Lisa strolled in the kitchen. She gasped at the sight of him. "Woah, what's the occasion?"

  "What? A man can't drink without a reason?" he mumbled, gulping the liquid some more.

  "Is this about Miss Caly?" Lisa yanked a stool and sat next to him.

  "It's not."

  "That's a yes."

  "I just..." he began without knowing what direction he was going. It just felt easier to talk to women when it comes to his problems. "I thought not being her lover was the hardest thing there is. But apparently, seeing her throw our friendship without qualms was... Fuck. She's really a brat." Castor drank another mouthful, hoping it could wash away the bitterness in his voice.

  "Then why do you like her?" Lisa inquired. She ran her teeth over her bottom lip as she continued, "People say she's beautiful but deadly. Like that time—”

  "She punished a boy in elementary because he touched her by tying him to the back of a car and asked her bodyguard to drive." A dejected smile graced his face. "That's partly true. She's a spitfire so often her words and actions can hurt someone. But Caly... she's loyal and strong. She's the kind who would go to hell for you.”

  "Oh?"

  "And she's hot, so..." he shrugged as they shared a laugh.

  "If you know her that well, then she must have a reason for cutting you off," Lisa said. Her small brown eyes twinkled as if she knew a secret.

  Castor shook his head in disbelief. "She's a brat, that's why.”

  ~~~~

  Callista Genovese sat beside the pool on Castor's house. Her toes dipped into the cold water. She sighed, recalling the fight she had with Castor. He didn't want to see her anymore? Ha, fine. Who was he threatening?

  She's gonna be fine without him.

  "Miss Caly, should we go?" Dos' voice rang behind him.

  Caly shot up straight, brushing her palms on her dress. "Let me say goodbye to Cas. Wait here."

  She slid into her apricot-colored Jimmy Choos pumps and marched inside the house. She heard Castor's laugh and she followed the sound to the kitchen. Her eyes took in Castor and Lisa together with a bottle of whiskey between them.

  Callista smiled at her best friend's glee. She was thankful that he could still laugh after Vince's demise. And it was because of Lisa. Cas was clearly at ease around her, his arms loose on his sides instead of being folded against his chest. She watched as they exchanged stories like old friends, Lisa's hand settling on Castor's arm. Her stomach twisted in pain.

  Maybe it's true.

  Maybe they don't need each other anymore.

  She turned away, gritting her teeth at the unwelcome burned on the edge of her eyes. Dos followed her to the gates, asking her what was wrong. She ignored him and entered the car, her nails piercing her palms.

  "You okay?" he asked from the driver's seat.

  "Yeah. Please drive." Caly propped her head against the window. She shouldn't cry. No way. Besides, this was for the better. All friendship diverged at some point. Their's just came sooner than she expected. She's gonna be fine. She always would be.

  Her thoughts instantly fizzled as her nose burned. Chloroform.

  Well, shit.

  ***

  CHAPTER 31

  Callista woke up with her nostrils burning. She first noticed the handcuffs on her hands. One pair was on her wrists. The other one was attached to her left wrist and a metal pole.