With the cigarette dangling in my lips, I swagger outside into the night air. Her arms are wrapped around her chest as I drape my coat on her shoulders.
“I thought we had it this time,” I mutter, standing next to her. “I thought it was a sure thing. Everything was so damned perfect, Iris.”
“I’m sorry,” she says, refusing to look at me. “I’m not changing my opinion.”
“Is being a made man such a bad thing?”
She blinks once to me. “This isn’t working.”
“I wanted you to be happy for me,” I desperately plead. “I needed one time for you to look at me and be proud of who I had become. Instead, I’m fucking shoe gum.”
“… Shoe gum, Sal?”
I lift my arms as she loses every ounce of composure. “What do you want me to say—Oh! Great! This is wonderful news! I’m marrying a man who will not only fuck me nightly but then try and dismantle my history during the day! It’s just fucking fabulous!”
I grab her and kiss her lips solid. And then I grin like the devil. “You’re a horrible liar with me in person.”
“… What?” She screams, continuing the lie. “This thing—whatever we are—isn’t working…”
“Horrible. Liar.” I declare as she purses her lips together, fuming. “You got hot on me, baby girl, but you can’t hustle me worth a shit. And it pisses you the fuck off, but that is also why you need me. Your poker face sucks when I’m in the picture and everyone knows because you look at me like I’m a Motherfucking God!”
“Dammit, just go!” She points off into the distance. “Just go away!”
My eyes fill with tears. “See, let me explain something to you,” I slyly say, crossing my arms and stroking my goatee with my fingers. “My entire family thinks you’re some sort of slant-eyed, money grubbing cooch, and that is being polite.”
“I have more money than you.”
I wave and shake my head. “Ignore that for a second. So, you’re essentially gutter trash to them as are all of your kind because that is how Cesario runs his show. Luca would’ve loved you, but it isn’t his gig anymore. And there is no way in hell my Uncle Vinny would have ever sent the wonders of Holly and Kim to me.”
“Fuck you,” she sasses, spinning away and knowing I’ve got her. I grab her arm. “Let me go!”
“Tell me I’m wrong,” I urge, getting in her face. “And I will leave.”
“You’re wrong.”
I shake my head. “Gotta make it believable. Try harder. Work it.”
“What the fuck?” She fiercely bellows. “This isn’t Juliet!”
“You want me to rip my belt off and show you what this is little girl?”
“I want to know when the shit goes down,” she yells, spitting. “You’re going to be here!”
Bracing my hands on her arms, I praise, “There you go, fight for it. Make me believe you want me. Make me believe you need me. Make me believe I’m the toughest son of a bitch on the block, and you’ll choose me.”
Tears drip from her sapphires and cascade over her cheeks, “I want to know when they all turn on me, that you’re going to be the man to stand up to them. I want to know you’re going to save me. I want you to be the hero that rides in on the white horse.”
“I promise you—as my Mistress and my future wife—I am the man who will save you. And I will be here for you when Keishi falls, but the horse may be black.”
She crumbles in my hands. “… And what if you’re busy?”
“Send me a picture of that smile, preferably with the coral lipstick,” I snicker, rubbing her lips. “Maybe a little cleavage.” I wink with tears in my eyes. “And I will bring my inferno. If they so much as threaten you, I will burn them to the ground.”
“I still hate you.”
“Good,” I acknowledge with a nod and kneel down on one knee. “I’m in love with you.”
Her mouth opens. “… What are you doing?”
“What I should have done years ago.”
“Sal, get up…don’t do this…”
“Shut your mouth, woman,” I scold with a smirk. “So, your grandfather really likes me. I mean like maybe even more than he likes you.” I shrug with a grin.
Glancing away, she giggles. “You’re such an ass!”
“And he suggested I give you something,” I deviously charm. “But I told him, I already gave you a quarter cup of fresh swimmers.”
She bursts out with laughter, tilting her head back, and giving me the grin I’ve been waiting for. There we go. “Yeah, I’m working on making them quads, just for you.”
“Oh, fantastic!” I kiss the top of her hand. “But in the meantime, you should wear this because it is your grandmother’s.” I slide the diamond and sapphire ring onto her finger. “And I’m not going to ask you to marry me because it’s not a question. You will marry me.”
“You think, I’ll marry you,” she sasses.
“You will, because this is the promise that I’m yours,” I seriously say. “This is the promise I am always guarding my lotus. This is the promise that at the end, I am making you Mrs. Salvatore Raniero. And to prove it all, since you’re all about proof these days, I have the matching sapphire band.”
I lift my left hand and she gasps. “Oh, shit…”
“Ya, see, now you’re scared.”
“We’re really doing this,” she whispers. “This is going to happen.”
“We are!” I boom. “Say it…”
“Yes!” She squeals and I hop up and spin her round as her family appears from inside and claps. “Oh, my god!”
I passionately kiss her lips and let her slide down my body to her feet. I can’t catch her as my tears fall uncontrollably. “And now is where you get to hate me.”
The engine starts and the headlights come on. She pulls back and panics, but I latch onto her. “… Why is the SUV moving, Sal?”
“Because I’m leaving.”
“No,” she sobs in shock. “You can’t go!”
“The longer I stay, the harder this is going to be,” I mutter, wrapping my arms around her tight. She pounds her arms into my chest. “And the sooner I go, the sooner I can get back to you.”
“No!!! No!!!” she screams like she is being cut apart piece by piece. “I don’t want you to go. There was so much more I wanted to do with you. You can’t just go! What if something happens and this is it? What if the next time I see you, you’re in a coffin?” She loses it, crashing with fear. “Sal… No! Don’t go!”
“Baby, baby, baby… Look at me, Dandy.” I squat down to stare at those sapphires one last time. “I am coming back for you, but I cannot stay. And you cannot come with.”
“This is not okay, Trotter.”
“I know,” I whisper, smelling her hair. “But I’m the one with the swords.”
“I love you,” she cries as her lip trembles, and I kiss her one final time. “So much…”
“More than words, Angel.” I turn and walk away, knowing I’m going to fall apart if I don’t get to the jet soon. I don’t look back as the driver opens the door.
“Wait!” She shouts, and I turn to see her running at me. She leaps into my arms and whispers, “The Spider knows where Diablo is.”
“How do you know?”
Clutching onto me, she softly says, “Because he came to see me in Los Angeles.”
I peer down at her as I switch from lover to assassin. “You went to Los Angeles with Anna before Vega secured your transport to Asia and there was only one other person who knew you were getting on a Sibyl jet besides me.”
She kisses the tips of her fingers and sets them on my lips. “I love you.”
With my jaw tight, I clench my fists. “I’m so fucking pissed off!”
“There you go, fight for it. Make me believe you want me. Make me believe you need me. Make me believe I’m the baddest bitch on the block and you’ll choose me,” she rallies with my words like my best cheerleader. “Now, get your sweet ass out of here!”
&
nbsp; She slaps my ass as I get in the backseat. I wink and say, “I owe you one.”
55
This Is So Fucked Up
With her blonde hair spread out on the pillow, Emily runs her hands over my chest one early morning as my hard cock seats securely inside of her. I close my eyes and imagine I’m not hovering over this girl, but mounting my Angel from behind.
It’s fucked up. I know.
But I cannot get off with Emily—which is quite telling. I can come inside of my Old Poppa’s seventy-year-old mistress, but Baby Emlee not so much.
I mentally flip through the sultry images of Iris and find the perfect set. The girl beneath me is just the vehicle I’m getting off in; she is no different from a sock. My mind serves the XXX nudes, only I can’t shove the porn rag under the bed because it’s always with me. I carry these shots of Iris and I end up shooting my gun frequently because of them.
This isn’t about Emily, and I am not about her.
“Harder,” she requests beneath me. “I’m going to come.”
Her hands move from my chest to wrap around my neck and pull me to kiss her. It’ll break the spell because they don’t kiss the same at all. I get the critical error in my code and crash unless I open my eyes to her big blue moons. And it’s not that I don’t like Em. She’s great and she would make a fabulous wife for some other gangster. Just not this one.
With her lips on mine, I have to switch the reel to the seedier versions from my youth—all fetish based—with Doms and subs and whips and shackles and lash after lash of glorious punishment and pain. I thrust through the notions of a ball gag between Emily’s lips as I mark her with a cane and I come hard. And so does she.
My dreamy darkness is dipped in a vanilla sex candy.
It’s terrible in all facets—physical, emotional, spiritual, and sexual.
I get up from the bed, not needing to be late to work, as she tangles in the white sheets and suggests, “Why don’t you go to Sugargrove for the Juliet graduation ceremony?”
I’ve ignored the gold embossed invitation since coming back from Japan. I cannot tell Emily I haven’t been to Juliet since leaving September 28, 2015 because my excuse for going to Sugargrove and fucking my loverboy has been—“I have some things to take care of at Juliet.”
My lies are starting to outnumber the amount of times I’ve splooged thinking about eating Iris’ cupcake.
We might as well make my middle name Lies—Lucas Lies Raniero—fuck the Sal.
“You’re not responding, Lucas,” she loudly says as I come out of the bathroom with a toothbrush in my mouth.
“What do you want me to say?” I gurgle out, scrubbing her kiss out of my mouth. “I can’t just go to Sugargrove on a whim. I haven’t even RSVP’d.”
“… Why not?” She sighs as her eyes dart around the room. “You don’t need an RSVP. And besides, you go everywhere else unannounced.”
I hate to say it, but she has a point.
“It’s just too many memories.”
“They still haven’t found Dom?”
I shake my head, knowing Dom, Ashley, and Romeo are still among the missing. “Besides, what are you doing this weekend?”
“I have our first private showing for a few clients on Saturday,” she says as I go back to the bathroom and turn the shower on. “We’re doing test runs in New York.” Standing in the doorway, I pause as she nervously peers up. “I’m leaving Thursday though because I have an appointment with a fertility specialist on Friday.”
Oh. God.
I briefly wonder how fast I can get snipped.
“Baby, that’s awesome!” I feign a smile and go give her a tender kiss. “Let me know what happens.”
“Go to Juliet, Sal.”
“We’ll see.”
Clearly, I need to go lock myself in my office, think about Iris’ ass, and give the lies some competition. Because they’re winning—by a lot.
Graduation at Juliet is a whimsical celebration of naked submissives in nothing more than caps, tassels, and glorious shoes. I’m downing a bottle of Japanese whiskey at Anna’s table in my loose blue summer sport coat, ripped jeans, and Bollés—cause I’m famous and all or a spoiled brat. Or maybe just hungover from one too many lines off Amber’s perky ass last night.
It’s complicated.
Or it’s safe…
…not really…
But at least, I know it.
Deacon is here with some hot looking new freshman with a fake plastic rack. I’m sure she has a name, but he’s been going through girls faster than I can tell lies. He is thirty; she is eighteen. I think he’s gone boob on me. I blame Serene.
I don’t envy him in the least with Titty-girl.
Sure, she’s cute and bubbly but wild—I mean wild. And if I’m saying she’s wild, you gotta know that means the bitch must be feral. A hot cat fresh out of the jungle, ready to bounce on anyone’s rod. She keeps flirting with Terry, and I’m almost certain Shelby will deflate her faster than a needle in a balloon. I notice the looks between Deacon and Serene. I know them well. I don’t want to know them, but I do.
I can only imagine what this is doing to Nico as he sits front and center with Serene. His eyes keep scanning as Amber walks by in her knee-high, sparkling silver boots. It won’t surprise me if he starts frothing at the mouth soon cause she may as well be walking around with one of those moving LED-signs that says, “Take me. Rape me. Murder me. Please, Sir.”
And as you can tell, my mind is in overdrive.
I note something unusual from my boy Abel. In the cabaret bar, he’s starting to mingle and come out of his shell. It’s been a few hard months. Alex and Bleu are laughing with him. They’re all sitting on barstools, near Trudy and Pico, who are also having a fabulous time.
Everyone but me.
While A & A bond, Bleu scans the crowd and spots me. She waves and shoots like a rocket out of her chair.
Oh. No. This. Is. Bad.
Let me just say this, mentally ill souls recognize one another. Often times, they cling to each other like little life preservers trying to stay afloat. It’s great. Truly. No issue. No hate mail.
But I do not want a life preserver.
Or in Cruz’s case, a pair of overblown tits—fake or lactating.
Wallowing in misery has become my thing since we moved Iris out of the crosshairs, and while I know I shouldn’t base my entire psychological well-being on one person, shit fucking happens. And let’s face it, you’re not here with me now because I’m a happy go-lucky guy with a fantastic life. I’m fucked up, demented, and slightly deranged. I know I’m off and we like it that way.
Iris calms like a good drug.
Iris worships the darkest parts of me.
Iris loves my Dominance.
Everyone else, meh—depends on the day.
Preemptively, I scoot my chair back and grin as she plops on my lap and gives me a hug. “Why didn’t you tell me you were going to be here?”
I shrug. “I didn’t really know I was going to be here.”
“Did you hear the news?”
I pull my shades down onto my nose and repeatedly, obliviously blink. “What news, love?”
“I’m enrolling at Juliet!”
“Yes, you are!” Anna interjects, laying her hand on Bleu’s. “And I cannot wait to have you here at the academy.”
“What are you doing with Honey?” I ask, knowing she has been staying at home with the toddler. “Won’t it interfere?”
“Salvatore,” Anna harshly chastises, “Have you not heard?”
“… What?”
“It’s 2018, darling. Juliet purchased Dale and Amber’s old home, and we’re turning it into an off-sight daycare.”
I need another drink.
Or a bottle. Or a line.
Or the ass tucked in the dress Jaid is wearing.
Holy. Fucking. Hell.
I toss my sunglasses up in my hair, ready to go slam my cock into her wetness in the barn. She will, becaus
e she is in love with me. And I can use this to my pierced beast’s advantage.
“Excuse me for a moment,” I say.
Stealing my seat, Bleu grabs my hand and whispers, “Stay true.”
Girl may as well have drugged my drink with her two words. As if in slow motion, I walk to the bar as all the sounds go silent. I see Jaid, smiling, and note I’m not the only one aiming for that hot piece of ass. Abel is grinning—like genuinely, almost flirting—with someone his own age.
I change directions, spinning to the outdoor kitchen and the wrought-iron gate tucked within the bushes. On my way, I pass by a waitress carrying a full bottle of champagne. I steal it, dropping the shades, and disappearing through the crepuscular path.
I head out to the barn I built with these two hands. I grab a bottle of water from the fridge and hear the thumping beats playing from the speakers I hung in the rafters. I wanted the music in the cabaret to match the bar. I’m a little OCD when it comes to these things.
In the dark, I wrangle open the sticking door and climb the rough steps. The scent of drying herbs fills my nose—rosemary, lavender, and sage. I swing open the wide hay shoot, more for the view than use, and I drop my jacket. I plop my ass on the wooden plank floor.
This is one of my favorite spots at Juliet because I can see everything. I down three-quarters of the water, pop open the champagne, and drink from the bottle. I light a smoke and survey the goings on.
This is what I do.
This is who I am.
I like to watch every minuscule detail and pick it apart—dissecting the psyche of those I find curious. Not everyone deserves to be on my metal dish and under my scalpel.
Alex and Bleu chat with Nico. Thank god, she hardly ever wears shoes. Georgia and Jas are talking with Lula. Trudy is talking with Anna. Jaid and Abel are doing shots. Even Morpheus and Mamma Morpheus are swinging—not like that, pervs—out on the dance floor.
Deacon and Serene are walking towards the shack. It must be feeding time.
…whoa…rewind…back the fuck up…
Deacon and Serene are walking towards the shack when I spot them greeting a man, looking very similar in shape and size to Dom. Dropping the smoke in the water, I stand up, hoping to get a better view in the dark.
Every Minute I Love You (a Tomb of Ashen Tears Book 3) Page 46
