by Gabi Moore
“Take a seat,” I said. “Whiskey?”
He nodded and sat down in the big seat – the same one I had pinned Jack down in only a day or two ago.
Joseph Valenti was smaller than Jack, but denser somehow. Wiry. Like he was wound up tight and ready to uncoil and lash out at the first person who pulled on the wrong thread. I knew he would never be anything like his father. There was just always something so vicious about Joey. So severe.
I poured him a drink, handed it to him and settled into a seat across from him. I tried to look relaxed but something about having Joey in my house always put me on edge. Some little ribbon of tension was always alive in the core of me when he spoke, something that was ready to bolt, or fight if necessary. I didn’t like how he spoke, or the way he combed his hair back like that.
He took the drink and set it aside without taking a sip.
“So to what do I owe the pleasure?” I asked, trying not to make eye contact.
He cracked his knuckles.
The single time we had fucked, it wasn’t exactly what I would have called “pleasure”. Joey wasn’t really like that. I learnt early on that the thing he liked best in the world was to dominate. To control. Everything else was just a vehicle for that, including sex. In a way, men like Joey are profoundly asexual. They get the same excitement from taking a woman that they do pulling off a good deal or realizing they’re annihilated a sworn enemy. In other words, he was a lousy lay.
“Well, you do so much for the business, Evie. It’s time you got the recognition you deserve. I just want to make sure you’re more involved… you’re not like the others who just blow in and try to make a quick buck. You understand the business, and that’s why you’re so valuable.”
He was talking to me like I was some downtrodden secretary at an NGO or something. I said nothing, and waited for him to come out with his point.
“There are so many interesting new avenues opening up these days. The organization is changing. And that’s why I want to make sure that you’re well positioned…” he said, then put the glass to his lips.
The audacity was breathtaking. Everyone in the upper management levels knew that this little pipsqueak had had designs on his father’s role for a long time now, and they certainly weren’t happy about it. That he was so blatantly signaling his intentions was what really got me. He was making his award acceptance speech for a throne he hadn’t inherited yet. Or stolen, for that matter.
“I’m very well positioned, thank you, Joey. And I’m aware of the changes that are coming,” I said calmly. And I don’t need any damn help from you is what I really wanted to add, but said nothing.
“We have a history, Evie. I’ll always have your back, you know.”
I smiled.
The good thing about working around narcissists is how predictable they are. Screwing him was nothing more than a career move for me, and one so buried in the past nobody could even remember a time when I wasn’t one of the most competent people in this business. But for him, that one night in his father’s vacation apartment in Corsica meant I was indebted him for the rest of time.
“We all have each other’s back in this organization,” I said. “That’s why it works so well.”
His forced a strained smile.
“I’m thinking of coke. There are some new opportunities, new supply lines that will be vacant in the new year. Maybe you and I--”
“No thanks.”
He looked stung. Like his eyes might have popped out of his head from sheer rage alone.
“What, you’re too fucking good to even hear me out?” he said, laughing cynically. Another woman might have been petrified at how swiftly his voice could change tone, but I wasn’t an ordinary woman, and I knew him, and I wasn’t scared.
“No. But I know what you’re going to say. You and I know how your father feels about coke, so the only reason you’re mentioning it to me is because you want to go behind his back, and I won’t be involved with that kind of thing,” I said curtly. His face was going a faint shade of red.
He exhaled loudly and flopped back into his seat.
“Well, there you go, that’s what I’m talking about right there…”
“I know loyalty doesn’t mean much to you but--”
“Loyalty? What about loyalty to me?” he spat.
I gave him a slow, careful look. I knew what he was thinking. In his mind, his father was already well out of the equation and he was as good as top dog right now.
“Joey, just because I fucked you once it doesn’t mean I’ll ever do it again,” I said, lowering my voice.
We all knew he wanted to get rid of his father as soon as possible, and we all knew he wasn’t the kind to act with moderation. I knew what he was about, and I wasn’t prepared to stick around under the new reign of Little Joey the Psychopath.
He stood up and walked over to where I sat, and towered over me, looking like that great coil was close to snapping loose. I focused every thread of my will on staring straight ahead, calm, unflustered.
“Well,” he laughed, “I’m glad to see just exactly where your mind is, I can say that much.”
I instantly stood up too, bringing my face just inches away from his and staring straight at him.
“Listen, Joey, don’t bullshit me. That’s why you’re really here, isn’t it? Admit it. You’re pathetic. And you’re wasting my time,” I hissed. I could hear the bones in his knuckles crack as he tightened his fists. I stood my ground, watching the veins in his jaw work. There was a time when I found dangerous men like this exciting. There was a time when the thought of being overpowered and dominated was sexy as hell to me. When someone like Joey Valenti seemed dark and powerful and irresistible.
But all I saw now was his weakness.
And it sickened me.
Part of me wished he had enough balls to seduce me right now, properly; that he’d have the skill to fuck me like a real man, and not some thug with an entitlement problem. Being pressed up so close to him like this reminded me just how lonely I was. How neglected some parts of me were, after so many years in this cutthroat business. Still, poison is poison, no matter how hungry you are.
With a quick, brutal movement he brought both his hands to my shoulders and shoved me back hard, so I tumbled back down onto my chair. He placed one shiny shoe on either side of my legs and towered over me, hands at his side. His face remained stony.
“You don’t have any respect for authority, you know that?” he said in a low growl.
“I respect skill, Joey, not authority.”
He laughed.
“That attitude won’t serve you well in the future.”
“In the future? You mean, when you’re running the place?” I said and laughed as well. I tried to squeeze as much derision into that laugh as I could.
“Yes, actually. I’m giving you an opportunity here, Evie. You can get in with me early, if you play your cards right… if I were you I wouldn’t be so ungrateful for the things that you’ve been handed on a platter and--”
“Hey Joey, do you remember that time your dad had to go that gala? And I came over to look after you because the nanny was sick that day? You were so cute back then, so funny and sweet,” I said and flashed him a sarcastic smile.
It took only a split second for the back of his hand to raise up and come whizzing through the air, slapping my cheek hard and jerking my head to the side. My hand came up to the stinging skin but I was already leaping to my feet, propelled by that ribbon of tension inside. Before I myself knew what I was doing, I had lunged towards him and had my hands wrapped around his throat. Like the fastest, scariest movie, images flicked through my mind: there was a gun under the sofa. Knives a few paces away in the kitchen. If it came to it, a cast iron cat sculpture beside my fire place would do…
He staggered back as I threw my weight onto him and stabbed the points of my thumb into his neck. He gargled and twisted out of my grasp, looking at me with a shocked expression, but, of all things, s
miling.
I backed off into the corner of the living room, heart pounding, just daring for him to lay another hand on me. He looked amused, but he stood for a while, rubbing the sore spot on his neck. I could tell he was lost in a fantasy of how sorry I’d be once he was in charge and could do what he liked with me. But I already knew, I wouldn’t be sticking around for any of that.
“Well fuck me, do you treat him like that?” he said and gathered himself. I couldn’t show him that I was afraid. He stood between me and the door, me and my phone, me and the cast iron sculpture.
“Who the fuck are you talking about?” I yelled.
He cast me a devilish smile.
“You know damn well who I’m talking about. I’m just surprised, that’s all. Bit of an underling though, isn’t he?”
“You’re crazy. Get out of my apartment.”
“I don’t get it, you’ll go for some meathead nobody but turn down the offer of a lifetime with me. Why?”
I nearly laughed out loud at the thought that letting him fuck me and then finding a place for me in his burgeoning little empire was the “offer of a lifetime.” Not only was his flimsy plan to take out Angelo a bad one, I had basically already beat him to it.
I set my jaw and stared hard at him. I needed to figure out a way to get him out of here and fast.
“No, I’m serious, I really want to know. There must be something really special about him, huh? Personally, I don’t think I see it…” He took a few menacing steps toward me.
No. This wasn’t happening.
“Joey, just go. Just leave right now, please,” I said. I instantly realized I had made a mistake. How could I appeal to the better nature of a man who didn’t even have one? Showing even just a little fear didn’t get him to back off. In fact, I could see how the thought that I was afraid was actually exciting to him.
“I will. But only once I get what I’ve come for.”
“Your father will hear about it,” I said. He wasn’t above …forcing me. I couldn’t even form the word in my mind. Rape. It was so ugly. So unreal. Not something that happened to a woman like me. But with each step he took towards me that possibility was cementing itself in my mind. I could take him. I could defend myself if I needed to. But I really, really didn’t want to.
“If you like. Tell everyone. In fact, tell your guy how much you loved it, too.”
“Jack has nothing to do with this,” I blurted.
He was standing in front of me again, cornering me like an animal. I didn’t want to move, didn’t want to trigger the inevitable chase sequence I felt was just on the verge of erupting. But I didn’t want to simper and cower and try to placate him, either. That’s what everyone else did around him.
He reached out and grabbed my shoulder. I slapped it off.
“Joey, don’t do this.” But in a second he had lunged at me again and pinned me against the wall with is full body weight, his hot, horrible mouth pressing hard into mine. I screamed and tried to shove him off, but he blocked my path with his outstretched legs, trapping me there, one hand rapidly snaking under my blouse to paw at my breasts.
For a moment, the world went white and empty, and it took a second for it to dawn on me.
I froze.
It was actually happening. Joey, the little shit I had always had a low-level disdain for, the boss’s boy a good few years my junior, the baby we all had to give special treatment… was forcing himself on me.
I snapped awake. I wasn’t going to let that happen. If it killed me I wouldn’t let him continue. Reaching deep down inside I found the energy to lash out against him and press him off of me, giving me a split second to raise up my leg and bring it square into his groin. He cried out and staggered back, bent in half, letting me dart quickly out of the corner. He grabbed my hair and halted me, but not before I had time to kick over the sculpture with my foot. It came banging to the ground.
We tumbled to the floor as I tried to shake him off. He yanked at my hair, sending tearing pain all through my scalp. My skirt was now tangled around my knees and impeding my movement, but I lurched over and managed to grab the sculpture at its heavy metal base. In the same movement, I brought the sculpture up with all my might and swung it back overhead, landing it hard down onto his skull.
His grip on my lower body instantly loosened and he recoiled back in pain. I wriggled free, stood up and raced off to get my phone. The statue still in my hands, I dialed the police number with shaking hands, not taking my eyes of his crumpled, writhing form on the floor.
“Come at me again and I’ll kill you,” I said quietly. I knew he had heard me, even though he couldn’t lift his gaze to me. He hobbled to his knees, a hand clasping at a spot on the back of his neck. He was test blinking his eyes open and closed. I had knocked the rage out of him, that’s for sure. He was just confused now, just shocked that I could hit him as hard I had.
“Fucking bitch,” he mouthed slowly.
“Hello? There’s an intruder in my house. Seventy-six Washington avenue. He’s trying to kill me. Please send help immediately,” I said in as crisp a voice as I could.
“The police? You have got to be kidding me,” he slurred.
“Get out. Now!” I hissed, this time finding my voice. I was full of adrenaline and almost daring him to come close again so I could try another blow with my newfound weapon. He was on his feet now, but clearly unsteady. I took a step away from him and raised the sculpture a little in threat.
“I saw what you did with him,” he said, sounding defeated.
“What?”
“There are cameras inside the containers too, you know. Dumb bitch.”
I swallowed hard.
The thought that this animal had been part of that night with Jack sickened me to my stomach.
“I mean, I always knew you were a bit wild, but fuck. I’ve never even heard a human being make noises like that before.”
“The police are on their way. I suggest you kindly get the fuck out of here.”
Somehow, the thought that he was jealous gave me a private little thrill. It was a twisted sense of pride that I stood before him now. Good. Let him watch, the little perv. I hope he saw just how good it was that night …and how he could never have been that.
He straightened, cracked his back and made way for the door, his hand still nursing the back of his head.
“Your days are numbered,” he said and opened the door. He didn’t know just how true his words were. After Jack took the fall, I’d be free as a bird. No more drug deals. No more intrigue. No more defending myself with a blunt object like some desperate animal in a cage.
“And that asshole will be following close behind you,” he said and slammed the door behind him.
The room seemed uncomfortably silent and empty without him in it. I collapsed down onto the floor, the sculpture dropping from my hand onto the floor, and cried. My body released and my muscles rapidly let go of all their tension, and I was suddenly and unstoppably wracked with sobs. All at once I became aware of pain all over my body. I felt aches all along my sides, on my scalp, places where my skin felt raw and torn. I hadn’t noticed how much damage he had done when we struggled together. My fingernails stung. I suddenly felt utterly wiped out.
I don’t know how long I sat and cried there for. I knew that when I stood back up, I had to keep going. That once my tears were dry, there wouldn’t be time for any more self-pity and dawdling. There was work to do, plans to make. The organization was on its last legs. Conflict from within was tearing apart the structure Angelo and his ilk had painstakingly put together over the years. And now was my chance to leave it all behind, and I wasn’t going to let that chance pass me by because I was too busy feeling sorry for myself. had given the best years of my life to this organization and I was just barely escaping with my soul intake. And if I had to endure shit like this, well, I could do a little damage on my way out, couldn’t I?
It was a pity that it had to be Jack, but tough. By the time everyone
figured everything out, I’d have taken the cash I need and will be long gone. No more bullshit. Maybe I’d even get a real job. A quiet life.
I wiped my tears away and lingered on the floor for a moment, gathering my resolve. Then I stood up, straightened my back and carefully placed the sculpture back at its spot beside the fireplace. I decided I would be like this sculpture: steely and hard. but beautiful. Completely unmarred by the violence.
I sighed, downed the drink he hadn’t touched and went to the kitchen to distract myself with something to eat. Could I have actually killed him? I thought about it carefully as I dipped a carrot into some cream cheese. As I felt the cold, creamy texture warm in my mouth and melt away, I toyed with the idea that, yes, I could have. There have been plenty of others, that’s for sure. I don’t like killing. In fact, I hate it. But I wasn’t ever about ending someone’s life – it was about ensuring that I got to continue my own.
I was only halfway down the carrot when my phone rang. It was Mrs. Robinson’s number. My blood went cold to hear his voice. It could only be bad news. But it was a voice I didn’t recognize. One of his nurses? A friend?
“Angelo’s dead,” the voice said simply.
I said nothing, then hung up. I swallowed my mouthful and carefully put everything back in the fridge, one thing at a time, then steadied myself against the kitchen counter. It didn’t quite look like what I had anticipated, but this was it. This was the end of an era.
And the start of a new one.
Chapter 6 - Jack
My reflection still looked like me, at least. No matter how hard I stared into those dark brown irises, I couldn’t see that anything that had changed. And yet, everything was different. Was she feeling this, too? Or was it just me? Was I just supersensitive to the stuff?
I wasn’t exactly what you’d call straight edge, but I didn’t like being intoxicated. I didn’t like feeling out of control. But something about what had happened that night in the container was …haunting me. And now, I woke every morning with a weird hunger that nothing seemed to satisfy. I was horny, but no amount of jacking off brought me any relief. I was coming hard three or four times every morning in the shower, but by the time I had toweled off and dressed for the day I was rock hard again and unable to push thoughts of her out of my mind.
