by Belle Aurora
When I spotted the shoes he brought, my heart warmed.
A black leather pair of ballet flats rested on the carpeted floor of the closet, and under the circumstances, I couldn’t have picked a more sensible style of shoe. I tried not to think too much about Julius and his thoughtfulness, but it was hard not to. When I slid them on, they were a little big, but maybe only half a size.
When I was as satisfied as I could be with my appearance, I walked out of the closet, careful to not put too much pressure on my injured foot. Julius stood from his seated position on the bed, noticed my limp immediately and frowned. “I forgot.” His mouth pursed. “It hurt a lot?”
Keeping my eyes on the ground at his feet, I reached up to place loose strands of hair behind my ear, and muttered, “Taking the packed gauze out of the wound wasn’t exactly fun.”
“No,” he stated, his tone gentle. “It wouldn’t have been.” He watched me closely a moment before he checked his wristwatch and sighed, “We have to go.”
He turned and left the room without speaking another word, leaving the door open behind him. I took it as an open invitation and followed like the pet I was.
I get to sit in the front of the black, scary-looking SUV this time around. And from the moment we are buckled up and ready to go, Julius starts lobbing rules at me.
Pressing a button on the driver side of the car, all the doors lock at once, and as the car is set into motion, Julius begins talking. “I don’t want you to misunderstand me, Alejandra, so it’s better if I tell you how this is going to go down. If you attempt to gain the attention of any passersby while we are driving, I’ll punch you so hard, right in the mouth, hard as I can, and you will pass out.”
I see. Not a violent guy at all.
That’s reassuring.
I remain silent as he goes on. “If you tell anyone in the outside world that you’ve been kidnapped, I will shoot those motherfuckers right in the head, right on the street, and let their deaths be on your conscience.”
Again, good to know. Not that I expected anything else.
“If you try to escape me—which would be foolish, to say the least—I will lock you in my closet without food or water up until the time you starve to death, at which point, I will deliver you to Vito Gambino and be on my way, back to living my life.”
Ouch.
That one stung a little.
He does not look at me the entire trip, just drives carefully with his eyes on the road. Eventually, the car slows to a crawl then stops completely in front of an old style redbrick bungalow. “You will not look at anyone. You will not talk to anyone. You will be polite, and you will not speak unless spoken to, understand me?”
“I understand,” I mutter reluctantly.
He nods, sighing lightly, looking somewhat reassured. “Good. That’s real good.”
Julius steps out of the car and walks around to the passenger door just as I move to step down onto my sore heel. I hiss lightly and lift my foot again to take the pressure off, but Julius is there before I can blink and lifts me down off the high seat of the SUV and lowers me carefully until both of my feet touch the ground together.
The soft scent of his aftershave has me near salivating. He smells divine. I swallow hard then blink up at him, his hands still clutching my waist, and mumble, “Thank you.”
He ignores my appreciation as much as he ignores my warm gaze and takes my hand, tucking it into the crook of his elbow. “Don’t put all your weight on it. Use me as a crutch.”
I’ve used people as a crutch my entire life, Julius. Don’t ask me to do the same with you. I’m afraid to.
Because I could definitely get used to using Julius as a crutch. And a fine crutch he’d make.
The gentle wind blows my hair into wretched snarls as we move in sync. We walk to the front door of the home in silence, because, quite frankly, there’s nothing more to say. He steps forward, lifting his finger to ring the doorbell. Choir bells chime in the distance and the door swings open.
A pretty, short woman with curves to kill and skin the color of melted chocolate gasps when she spots Julius. The jeans she wears look painted on, and the black, long-sleeved tee hugs her large bosom. The only thing out of place is her white and pink fuzzy bunny slippers. Her soft brown eyes are surrounded by long, thick lashes, and her long brown curls hang loosely to her hips. Her gaping mouth quickly turns into a smile. “You said you had work.”
His eyes crinkle in the corners as he replies, “I decided to take a break.”
The woman tips her head back and laughs heartily. “Best thing about being your own boss, I s’pose.” Her brow furrows and she places a hand on her thick hip. “You just gonna stand there?”
Julius smiles then, bright and blinding, folding the small woman into his arms and rocking her back and forth. The woman grips the back of his cool wool sweater tightly and makes a content humming noise in her throat as Julius cradles her to him, and I decide to hate her.
They pull away from each other, smiling like a couple of fools, and the woman looks kindly to me before turning back to Julius. “You gonna introduce me to your friend, Jay?”
Jay? Not only does she get his smiles, but she has nicknames for him too?
Yep.
Fuck her.
I feel his eyes on me as I stare blankly at the woman and he makes lame introductions. “Tonya, this is Ana. Ana works with me.” He waves his arm out between us. “Ana. Tonya.”
Tonya takes my hand and smiles hard. “Oh, do come in. What are you having? I can make just about anything. Coffee, tea? I have soda, or I could make some Kool-Aid.”
Julius fights a sigh. “Tonya, sweetheart…”
Sweetheart? Oh, now I’m fuming. The sad part is that I don’t even know why.
Yes, you do. You’re jealous. Pea green with envy.
I hate my brain sometimes.
Tonya cuts him off with a wave of the hand. “Don’t you ‘sweetheart’ me, brother mine.”
Brother m—
Wait a second now.
My head snaps up.
Did she just say brother? This gorgeous woman, this Tonya, is his sister?
She walks down the hall, and Julius holds out his elbow to me. I take it wearing a look of puzzlement, and Julius nudges me along. Tonya speaks to herself as she reaches the end of the hall. “I so rarely entertain. I wish you’d have told me you were coming, Julius. The house is a tip.” As we enter the kitchen, she is flushed, looking like a frazzled mess, and with apologetic eyes, utters to me, “I wasn’t expecting company.”
Jesus Christ, I’m an asshole.
Okay, so maybe I was a little hasty in my judgment. I want to make up for my mistake.
My iced-up heart melts at the sweetness of this woman. She wears her heart on her sleeve. I know Julius won’t like it, but I can’t help myself. I need to set Tonya at ease.
Forcing a smile, I remove my hand from his elbow, step away and lie to Tonya. “I hope you don’t mind me saying, Tonya, but you have a beautiful home. I can’t see any of the mess you’re claiming is around here somewhere. I’d love some tea.” In my friendliest tone, I utter, “Can I help out?”
“Why, thank you, Ana. You’re too kind. Chamomile okay?” The relief in her eyes is obvious, and her tight shoulders droop as she smiles in return. “Well, why don’t you get the water on and I’ll fix us something to eat.”
Tonya crosses the kitchen to the refrigerator while I take the empty pan off the stove, fill it with water and put it on to heat. I move to get a few of the mismatched mugs off the windowsill, when warm fingers grip mine, cocooning my small one, squeezing . His body moves in close to mine, his front brushing my back, the delicate warmth of him seeps into me. I close my eyes and breathe him in. A shiver flows through me as he places his lips at the shell of my ear and speaks on a hush. “You didn’t have to do that.”
Without looking back, I murmur quietly, “No,” I concede. “I didn’t.”
But I did. Not for his sake, or ev
en Tonya’s, but for mine. If there is one thing I have, it’s manners. And as I feel Julius’s large body retreat, I wonder how many days I have left to live, not meaning to, but hoping my good deed bought me one to spare.
Tension fills me as we leave my sister’s house a little over an hour later. The drive home is silent, a mild buzz of strain in the air. I don’t like the way Alejandra smiled when Tonya told her about how I look after her and Keke. I could almost see the spark of hope in her eyes. There was no need for it to ignite into a healthy flame. I quashed it with a muttered, “That’s because you’re family.” I turned to stare Alejandra right in the eye, with meaning. “I don’t give a fuck about anyone else.”
Her eyes held an emotion I couldn’t quite place, perhaps desperation or something akin to it. Alejandra kept quiet for the rest of our visit, as she was told, speaking only when spoken to, including when my sister’s face turned somber. “Ana,” she started, cupping her mug of tea, warming her hands, “you involved in all that badness my brother’s involved in?”
Alejandra seemed lost for words, and then she turned to me, probably trying to gauge how to answer that. When she saw she wasn’t about to get any help from me, she looked down at the table, running her fingers gently along the grain of the polished wood. A sad smile crossed her face as she told my sister quite honestly, “I am the badness your brother is involved in.”
Graceful, even in certain death.
Tonya blinked at her, brow low in puzzlement, before letting out a long sigh. She shook her head slowly and chuckled. “Well, that’s a relief.”
My sister was not what one would call subtle. “Tonya…”
Her eyes wide, she said, “What?” She looked at Alejandra, and stated, “She’s not that bad. I have to admit, I expected worse. I mean,” she snuffled, amused, “what could she have possibly done, Jay?”
I let out a humorless laugh before straightening and glaring at my sister. “You have no idea.”
Tonya looked to a pale Alejandra, reached over and patted her hand kindly. “Don’t you worry now. Jay will help you get out of trouble.” My sister looked up at me without a shadow of a doubt, in complete confidence, as if I hung the stars at night. “Won’t you, Jay?”
Alejandra smiled at my sister, grasping her fingers like a lifeline. But her smile wobbled, and when she spoke, her voice shook. “I don’t know if he can help me. I really messed up. My own family has written me off.”
Tonya responded confidently, “He will help you. It’s what he does.”
Alejandra let out a short bark of laughter, and I knew what she was thinking. She was thinking how wrong my sister was, but she declined the opportunity to correct her. And I was grudgingly grateful for it.
I shouldn’t have gone there, but I can’t help myself. I silently wonder what it would be like had I brought Alejandra to meet my sister under different circumstances. I would seat her by my side, where a woman like Alejandra belonged, and be proud to show her off. Rest my arm on the back of her chair in a display of ownership and hold her close every possible moment. Every motherfucker would know she was mine and I’d treat her like the queen she was.
The unexpected vision leaves a bitter taste in my mouth.
Regardless of how much I denied it to myself, I wanted Alejandra, and not just to warm my bed. I wanted her for my own. She had a light in her eyes that called to the darkness in mine, her very presence calming. She got me, got this life, understood the way things were. It was tough for a person to be as gracious and kept together when you and yours lived off spilled blood, but Alejandra did it with ease.
I wanted her.
I wanted her so bad I ached inside.
But it was a moot point. I’d never have her, and it damn near killed me inside.
Under different circumstances.
Now, as we drive along the highway with the radio barely audible, I keep my eyes on the road, but can’t stop myself from asking, “Why didn’t you call me out?”
She glances at me from the passenger side before turning back to the window and grumbling, “What good would it have done? It’s clear your sister loves you.” She sighs softly. “I’m not about to make your life shitty just because mine is.”
“You don’t have to be afraid of me, Ana. I don’t have a hidden agenda. You don’t have to watch your back.” Her sad eyes come to rest on me, unblinking. I hold her stare a moment before turning back to the road. “I’ll stab you in the front.”
An amused scoff. “Well, that’s a relief.”
This entire situation tires me out, mentally and physically. She doesn’t understand that I am at war with myself. My rough statement comes out quiet and weary, “It fucking should be, you ungrateful bitch.”
I feel her still, likely surprised by the foul and unexpected statement, my offending words hanging in the air like a bad smell.
Has she any idea what keeping her alive would cost me?
My job. My allies. My fucking life.
It means nothing to her.
Her muteness begins to get to me. “You hungry?”
“Uh, yes. Yes, I am,” she responds carefully, quietly, as if I would be cruel enough to deny her food. And it suddenly makes me realize that her careful responses and reaction are likely because someone had been that cruel to her. But who?
“Are burgers okay?”
Blinking in thought, she nods. “Sure. I mean, I’ve never had one before, but food is food.”
I do a double take, grateful that what I said in anger hasn’t affected her too much. “You’ve never eaten a burger before?” Lips pursed, she shakes her head, and I see nothing but raw honesty in her eyes. “How is that even possible?”
A small smile plays at her lips, and she rolls her eyes at the question. “I’ve led a very sheltered upbringing, Julius. Went to a very strict, very catholic all-girls school. My sisters and I weren’t allowed friends. All we had was each other. We only ate at home or at high-end restaurants. Junk food wasn’t allowed, although Veronica and I managed to bribe one of my father’s men to get us a pizza one time. Interaction with boys was a definite no. I’d never even seen the male anatomy up close until my wedding night. My life was… is…” She pauses and frowns at the loss of words, before whispering, “I would change a lot about my life.”
Bitterness seeps out of those words, and I want to know more about her, but I shouldn’t. It’s a catch-22. Get to know more about her, risk becoming attached to the little woman. Don’t ask the questions I feel I need to ask, hand her over not knowing things I should’ve known.
Alejandra is hiding something, and I plan to find out what. I will need to push, I will need to poke, prod, and chip away piece by piece to reveal what’s on the inside, and by the end of it all, she won’t like me very much, but that’s life.
Suddenly, she’s irritated. “Why are you being nice to me? This would be so much easier if you’d just yell at me and slap me around.”
“You want me to slap you around?” I ask in mild disbelief.
“Well, no,” she admits. “But it would make things simpler. I would know how to feel if you did. I can deal with hatred. I don’t know what to do with indifference.” She peeks over at me quickly before looking back out the window. “Or maybe that’s your plan. Maybe you want me confused.”
I shake my head. “Nope. No plan. Regardless of how I treat you, you’re still my prisoner.”
“Oh, Julius.” She breathes in deeply then responds tiredly on an exhale, “A prisoner is no longer such if she wants to remain jailed.”
Damn, she’s good. But I refuse to bite.
With that bold statement, we drive on, and thick silence replaces heavy conversation.
Firstly, burgers are delicious. Julius ordered us both chocolate shakes to go with it and I have to admit, I was a little appalled.
It did not sound appetizing in the least. But then our meals arrived. One bite of that juicy, tender meat in a bun and I was in heaven. I didn’t think too much about my company, o
nly how much food I could get into my mouth at once. Chewing with gusto, a pleasure overload flowed from my toes all the way up to the very hairs on my head.
Then I spotted Julius smirking at me, an almost affectionate, teasing lilt to his voice when he stated, “You eat like a pig.” For all that dreadful statement said, he looked awfully pleased by the knowledge.
Mouth full, I glared at him, jerking my chin to the ketchup dribbling down his chin, and garbled, “Like you can talk, asshole.”
His smile stretched wider, and I reached across the table for my shake, taking a sip just as a hiccup threatened to rise and, oh, my God… heaven itself could not have formed a better pairing than burgers and shakes.
It was official.
If I lived this out, I was going to get happily fat.
A moan escaped me, and in all the excitement, I bounced my heels on the floor in wordless pleasure, gripping my burger tight in both hands, my eyes closed as I tried to process how amazing it was and how I had been missing out. And Julius’s eyes crinkled at the corners as he continued to eat quietly, watching me.
It would be the first of many days where I would question my entire being. Had I lived a day in my life, or had I merely existed? I didn’t know much about the world, but I knew a whole lot about the underground. Things most women would swoon dead away from, I would barely flinch at. I was an old soul trapped in the body of a twenty-four-year-old, and here… now… Julius had given me something I would cherish for always.
He had given me a taste of normal.
He had lent me his sister for the morning, showing me how regular siblings should interact. He had given me burgers, and although I would never admit to it, I would’ve given anything to Julius then, had he only asked.
It felt appropriate that I should express my gratitude. Taking another big bite of my burger, I murmured, “So… thanks.”
