by Adams, Evie
The man can certainly ruin a good bath. "At first, but not really. Not after the first few weeks. How are you here? I was going to call you, but,” why was I explaining myself to him?
"Oh, I’m so glad you're safe. I called the police, but there wasn't much they were willing to do. Some lawyer in New Jersey was paying your rent and bills, but he wouldn't tell me anything.”
"How did you know I was here now?"
"I paid the doorman to call me if you or anyone else showed up. Do you need a doctor or anything? Psychologist? Police?"
"No, I'm fine." Annoyed, but fine. "Can I finish my bath and get dressed?”
"Of course, but we need to do something, who kidnapped you?”
"Nobody, let that go.”
"What do you mean let it go?”
"You've been abused and held captive, how are you not going to the police?”
"Because I'm not. Please leave."
"You're nuts. You enjoyed being . . .”
"Tommy, enough, please leave."
"You heard the lady, time to go."
It was Marcus, standing at the door, his eyes filled with fire.
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CHAPTER 24
“There aren’t many things that make me more angry than another man looking at my woman naked, and refusing to leave while she's asking him to." I told him, "If you make this difficult there is no telling how badly it will end for you. The things I have been through to get to this room, you will not stop me now."
"Your woman?" Tommy asked, frightened.
"Yes, and she's carrying my child, and naked. You need to leave."
He looked back at Anna, but she was looking at me. "Is this true, him?" he asked her.
She paid no attention to him.
"It's true, all of it. If I have to ask you a third time, there won’t be a fourth time." He hesitated again, I grabbed him by the collar and dragged him out, his body went limp, I dragged him out the door and he tried to stand and swing at me, impotently, and I had enough. I threw him down against the door, hitting his head against it. He sat there and rubbed his head and looked up at me as I told him one more time, "Get up and open the door and don't ever come back. Leave the keys."
I turned my back on him and started to walk back towards the bathroom, I heard him stand up, "If I don't hear the keys fall to the floor and the door shut behind you, there will be trouble."
I waited a moment, then heard the jangle of keys and the door shut behind me. I took a deep breath and opened the bathroom door. There she was, not covering up, not jumping out of the tub happy to see me, but not throwing the shampoo bottles at my head either, which I took for a good sign.
She scowled, "That was unnecessary."
"But effective, now we can be alone."
"I'd like to be alone."
"You can't be alone for the next 9 months anyways," her face changed, it was softer for moment, the she pulled it tight again, completely in control, my god she was sexy.
"What makes you think that?"
"Ten or so pregnancy tests in your hotel room."
"How did you. . ?" she began, but I interrupted her.
"I hate to explain myself, remember. It's my hotel. You may be in danger here, in the world, but you were in no danger in my hotel with my people watching. You were in more danger under my roof. That's why I sent you away, to get you out of immediate danger there. And the only way to get you to leave was to hurt you, to say those things I had always threatened to say. But they were simply not true. And now that you have my baby in your belly, I'll never let you go again."
"I'm not pregnant, those were Tess's tests."
"You're a poor liar. Yes, Tess is pregnant and you bought several tests for her. Then Tess went to buy 5 more, for you this time. All of them, all but 1 was positive."
"I haven't decided to keep it. I'm not sure a child of yours would be able to live a decent life, not with the business you're in."
"I'm not in any business anymore. I've turned it over to my Uncle Carmine. He was probably a better choice than me in the first place, but I wanted it, very badly, and I got it. But I realized there is something else I want more."
"What?"
"You to get out of that tub, slowly, while I watch."
"That's all?"
"For now."
"I still haven't heard an apology for saying those things."
"And you never will. Now, stand up. Slowly."
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EPILOGUE
This was all that I wanted- almost. But the family was in good hands with Uncle Carmine. He was loyal. He could be trusted. He proved it. And anyways, Gianni still reported to me, so did Paulo. I had my eyes and ears open, and waited.
There was enough to distract me with Anna and the baby. And I added to it by buying a farm in the Catskills, and an old bar/restaurant/ vaudeville club. The plan was to renovate it and open it back up, I needed something close by to run and escape to.
Family and friends kept coming round to see the baby and congratulate us. Most of these people I didn't trust being alone with the silverware, never mind be around my family. But I played the good host for as long as I could. It was something of a relief when Michael and Sara were able to come down and spend a few days with us. We took them to the place I had bought. Michael and I needed to talk anyways.
They brought gifts, clothes, college fund donations, and Sara cooed at the baby with Anna. Michael was more disinterested. Partly because of how much Sara was fawning over the baby, partly because of work, he had phone calls to take, to ignore, to return. He was distracted and busy, and I’m sure part of him didn't even want to be here.
"Want to see the bar?" I asked him. "It’s still a work in progress but you’re a man who can see potential."
"Gladly," he said warmly. I poured him a beer and we played pool, and his phone kept ringing, but he ignored it. Finally he was relaxed.
"Congratulations on the election, I know you're here to congratulate me, but I missed your triumph there." I told him as I poured a nice scotch for him.
"Yeah well, you on my arm may not have played well with the press anyways. Honestly, I'm a little worried just being here. I don't want to know about your business and the family and all of that, but it's just becoming a liability for me you know. For my political career. I'm just being honest here with you."
"I know, brother. But I'm out of it now. I've divested myself of that world, you don’t need to know, but Carmine has control now. And Sal is a pretty good second in command. I have my own family to worry about now, you know. Besides I'd rather be a liability to you in other ways."
He laughed at that, "How a liability? Are you going to bring back burlesque and make me shut you down?”
"Hopefully. I need the excitement of running a place like this. I may dabble in acquiring companies too, but this is good for now.”
"Excitement will be the death of you brother."
"I hope not.”
"Any companies in mind? I guess it may be a conflict for me, if you’re involved in any shady companies or ones that do business with the state, I’d have to make sure me and the Governor were far away from it."
"I have a few in mind, they might be shady, but none are involved with the state, at least not openly. Anyways I'm glad we have time to talk. We may not get to see each other very often what with our busy schedules."
"We're family, we'll make time for each other," he added quickly, and seemed earnest.
"Family by name and blood, but not family anymore."
"What?"
"The company I just purchased was a small one, MMM Inc. It was called."
His eyes widened.
"They have an interesting history, and I'm told, were a supporter of your campaign, though maybe not on the books."
"Marcus,"
I stopped him before he lied to me, "Shut up. I know it was you Michael. I know you and Jackie were working together. I don't know why but I know more t
han I want to know. More than you want me to know. You're dead to me now. I have no brother. Know that you had your chance and missed and now it's my turn. Know if anything should happen to the people I care about, it will go very bad for you and the people you care about. Now finish your fucking drink and we'll go upstairs and say our goodbyes. You have urgent business or something, and we will never see each other again hopefully. If we do, one of us will not walk away from that meeting. I have enough dirt on you to take down you and the governor now, but that’s safe, locked away, buried in the desert if you like to imagine it.”
He feared me, I could see it in his eyes, and the way he looked away, down at the ground, thinking of something to say. “Actually, finish that drink, that’s too good a scotch to pour out, and take your last shot, it looks like you're behind the eight ball."
GIANNI
(Prequel Sample, Coming soon)
PROLOGUE
The bullet seared in his arm, so much he couldn't get a shot off back at him. His own gun stayed in his shoulder holster, unused. Teddy lay dead, a lucky head shot, so Gianni ran off to the car with a pocketful of cash and some stones and managed to drive it over the curb and out, before any cops showed up, but he knew they'd be there soon.
Fucking renta-acop. They aren't supposed to have guns.
It was a Saturday night and he and Teddy were supposed to do a quick, quiet job, breaking into a jewelry chain store, stealing the rocks and the cash, and leave. All the chain stores were set up the same and it was the third one they had knocked off this year, but some cowboy rent-a-cop showed up and started shooting just as they were finishing drilling the safe in the back room. Gianni looked in his pocket, maybe $500 from the petty cash, and a couple decent rocks from the display cases. The rest was garbage, except for the safe. In there would be uncut, untraceable stones and bars of gold and platinum, and maybe the week's cash haul- he would never know because they didn't get to crack it.
He drove slowly on the empty streets and knew he had to get off the road. Partly because the cops would stop just about any suspicious car, especially after the call went out. And partly because the blood was pooling in the driver's seat, and running all the way down his ass crack, a warm, sticky mess.
Teddy could have stitched me up, he thought. Poor Teddy. If the damn rent-a-cop hadn't started shooting, if he had called the cops that would have been it. So Gianni would be arrested for burglary, wouldn't be the first time, and since they didn't hurt anyone, and the place was abandoned in the middle of the night, he maybe would have done 3 years. Maybe less with the new Lawyer Metcalf, he was a wiz so far for the guys.
Metcalf, he turned the word over in his head, the word meant freedom, it meant getting away with it all, he repeated the word like a prayer.
Metcalf would be my next phone call if I didn't bleed to death in the car. He might even be awake right now. Tough as nails that guy, I bet he doesn't sleep. But with Teddy dead, this wasn't a three year burglary stretch now. This was felony-murder. Even if I didn't pull a gun, or shoot anybody, the fact that stupid cocksucker shot and killed Teddy meant I was guilty of murder for being there. Metcalf said something about if we intended to do the burglary, that intent is transferred to the murder or something, I don't know. He can talk, that's for sure.
Gianni knew that beating burglary and beating murder were two very different things.
The hospital was out, but he needed something, he needed someone to stitch him up. At a hospital, he would be in handcuffs before he ever saw a doctor.
Ask and you shall receive!
He slowed the car down, this was another chain store, but this one had drugs and bandages too. One burglary and one felony murder, so why not another burglary? His arm screamed in pain at him, and throbbed like crazy as he parked the car behind the store and tried to break in the back window.
CHAPTER ONE : TESS
The end of the month was the worst,- reconciliations for corporate. A lot of the drugs were controlled, like ketamine and morphine, - more than one employee had been fired for trying to take a vial of these, and they got a not-so-nice call from the police too. Even the antibiotics and other things were regulated, so all the amounts we had on hand at the end of the month had to be entered into the corporate computer system.
Lately, I would just write them down in my notebook and enter the data later at home or at Chris' apartment. Chris would distract me and play with my body while I worked and I would pretend to get upset and fight him off, but really I loved every minute of it. Once he even started fucking me from behind while I lay on his bed, entering the amounts. That was much more fun than sitting here at work, alone, well, mostly alone, the dogs and cats were still locked up in back, but most were asleep. Except this little guy on my lap. Mr Higglesworth, the Persian cat we were boarding for its owners. He was 20 lbs and looked like he should have a monocle, and a top hat and tuxedo, he was the classiest, most sophisticated animal I had ever had the pleasure to sit for. If I didn't get to work, I felt he might fire me or judge me and look down on me for screwing around. I rubbed his belly and he stretched out lazily, as if he was only letting me pet him because I seemed to enjoy it.
Chris was probably in his apartment right now, screwing around on the computer, waiting for me, but I hadn't decided if I was going to go over later or not.
Who was I kidding, of course I was, the man had an A+ dick game.
And was almost perfect in every way, except for that little thing he let slip on Tuesday, when I couldn't go meet him and his friends at the bar because there was no sitter for Bumpy. "You know I probably would have married you already if it wasn't for that kid of yours." He said it as a child, to hurt me, and maybe didn't really mean it, but he hadn't begged and apologized for saying it, for even thinking it, so I figured we were probably over.
I had three texts from him on my phone, “Where you at” and “Yo!” and “Yo?”. And I tried to ignore them, but I was sure I would call him once I got off, so I could get off.
Anyone who would make me choose between bumpy and them didn't deserve to be in my life, but it's tough to leave a cock like that and go back to meeting assholes at the bars. But a girl's got needs, sometimes you need to get fucked, and those assholes are the only option.
Mr. Higglesworth perked up his ears and rolled over and off my lap, running into the next room. When I looked up I saw the scariest man I've ever seen. He had huge jagged scars across his face, coming out of each mouth and up the cheeks. He was covered in blood from his stomach down to his waist and legs. He had a blank look on his face, as if surprised to see me, but he pulled a gun from inside his jacket slowly and pointed it right at me.
"Help me and you won't get hurt," he said and stared at me.
He was a wounded animal and my first instinct was to grab him and calm him, but having never had a gun pointed at me, a new instinct appeared, to run. I jumped out of my seat and ran for the door, I tried to pull it open and it was locked, I frantically tried to unlatch it, but by then his good arm was wrapped around my throat, for someone who lost that much blood, the strength in his forearms was impressive, my neck was between his bicep and forearm and he could have been snapped it like a twig.
I started crying, "I have a baby, please don't hurt me,"
"I already said I wouldn't if you helped me, but running away is not helpful, now is it?" He whispered.
He turned me around from the door and pushed me forward to the back room. I heard him close the blinds and shuffle his feet after me.
I felt surprisingly calm, I could taste sour, metallic adrenaline in my mouth.
"You're a nurse right?" He asked when I turned to face him again, in the back room.
"Office manager, well I help out too," I looked down at my scrubs, but they were for show more than practical. Corporate uniforms to make customers feel we were a hospital, everyone wore them no matter if they answered phones or were nurses.
"You can try," he said and smiled, a goofy, half grin, because the mu
scles in part of his face must have been severed when he got those scars.
I took off his jacket, slowly, easing it off through his wincing in pain. It slid off and revealed enormous arms and pecs, and a washboard stomach. If he wasn't covered in blood he would be damn sexy.
I got to work on him, and he never cried out, or showed his pain, "Much easier to work on than animals, they always try to bite when they're in pain," I blurted out, forgetting what was happening for a moment.
"I might too," he said menacingly, even though it was a joke, and I remembered exactly what this was. I was a hostage and trying to help a gunshot victim. He came alone, so who knows where the shot came from and if the person who shot him was still breathing.
I had him take off the gun holster, a thin leather thing wrapped around his chest, and then his white t-shirt came off with it.
"Can you stand up and follow me to the other room?"
"What for he asked," suspicious.
"To wash this off to see what's under the blood." The hole was obvious, crimson, near black blood, but I couldn't tell if or where it exited without cleaning it off. He followed without a word to the sink in the surgery room, and I ran the water until it was room temperature, and held his arm under, splashing the water over, cleaning the blood and ran some soap around and under.
