A Girl by Any Other Name

by MK Schiller

  “I’m assuming you had your reasons. I want to hear all about that, but right now, I just need to hold you. God, it’s so good to hold you, baby.”

  She cried against me, and I suffered each whimper with her as it waved through her diminutive frame. I buried my face in the crook of her neck, and breathed in her sweet scent. She placed her arms around me and I couldn’t help myself. I slid my hands from her waist to her ass and lifted her. She immediately crossed her legs over my hips, tightly locking those cowboy boots behind me. We remained like that for several minutes, since it seemed neither of us had words for this reunion.

  “Why are you crying, Sylvie? Isn’t this a good moment for you?”

  “Yes, of course it is. I… I’ve been walking around the whole city with that stupid bag of apples since we talked. I didn’t know what the right choice was.”

  “Why was it a choice at all?”

  “I’m going to tell you, but first can I try something?”

  I lifted my head and stared into her tear-stained face. She smiled nervously.

  I gave her a wide grin to put her at ease. “I wish you would.”

  She moved her lips toward me, but I met her halfway. The gravity between us pulled our mouths as if they were independent of the rest of us. We smashed into each other, desperate for the contact. Her lips, soft and silky, chapped as I pressed my mouth against them. I slid my tongue across her lips until she opened for me. I drew out her tongue and tasted her delicate sweetness. She moaned, sending vibrations through my body. I had so many questions, but my physical longings prevented my mind from forming any coherent thoughts. I wanted to take her against this wall right now. I wanted us to be one.

  “Cal, we have to stop,” she murmured, when I finally parted our lips to suck in some air.

  “Why? You don’t want this? Because your body’s communicating a very different message,” I whispered against her ear. I ran my tongue over it and sucked in her lobe. She shivered against me, clutching me tighter. I knew she could feel my erection against her shorts. I only hoped I could hold out long enough to make it satisfying for her. She did things to me that I had never experienced with another girl. Dr Arnold had said that childhood memories were often misguided and inaccurate, but I knew it wasn’t true. What I felt for Sylvie was no childhood crush. It was so much more.

  “I want you, but—”

  “We both need this. Hell, we deserve it. We can talk later,” I growled, planting kisses down her neck.

  “Damn it, Cal, I’m trying to tell you something.”

  “What?” I demanded, not wanting to put her down.

  “Something’s burning.”

  “Fuck,” I groaned.

  I didn’t release her. Instead, I carried her into the kitchen and set her on the counter next to the stove.

  “You didn’t have to carry me in here.”

  “Do you think I’m ever going to let you out of my sight again?”

  I almost removed the pan with my bare hands, but she had the wisdom to grab my arm before I did. She held out the kitchen towel for me.

  “I’m your Huckleberry,” she said.

  I grinned so hard it hurt. “You sure are.”

  I reached for the kitchen towel, removing the charred contents from the oven, setting it on top of the stove.

  “What was that?”

  “Dinner.”

  “Should I make us something?” she offered.

  I turned off the oven and shifted over to her. I spread her legs and wedged my body into the space between. “No, I’ll make us something, but let me just look at you for a minute.” I moved my fingers through her hair. The soft, vanilla-scented strands felt like spun silk against my hand. “You’re so beautiful, but then again, you always were.”

  She looked down. “You’re the beautiful one. Mr six-foot, blond-haired, blue/gray-eyed perfection. I can’t believe you’re a prof—sorry, a college instructor.”

  I chuckled. “I’m six-two now, for your information.” The normalcy of our conversation instantly put me at ease, like we were sixteen again. “I can’t believe you’re actually here with me in my house. Even Momma and Mandy thought I’d gone nuts. I can’t wait to tell them.”

  Her eyes got wide and she placed her hands on my shoulders, halting my gaze to stop its lascivious descent across her heaving breasts. “You can’t tell them. We really need to talk, Tex.”

  I swallowed, knowing she was right. There were so many questions and as much as I desired her in this moment, I didn’t want any of them hindering what I was feeling physically or emotionally. “Sandwiches okay?”

  “Sure,” she replied, hopping off the counter.

  She proceeded to the living room. I started making our meal, keeping a close eye on her through the opening between the two rooms. She picked up the apples and set them on the dining room table, piling them in the center.

  “So, this is you?” she said, hooking her fingers through the loops on her shorts, taking in my small apartment.

  “Rent’s cheap,” I replied.

  “This is exactly where I imagined you living.”

  “Like I said, it’s a rental.”

  “Yes, but you picked it. It’s old school like you.”

  I laughed. “You think I’m old school? We’re the same age.”

  “I think a better description is old soul. You have an old soul, Cal. I thought you’d live in a place like this with architectural moldings, hard wood floors, crystal doorknobs and, of course, lots and lots of bookshelves.” She gestured to the three floor-to-ceiling bookshelves I had made myself. They’d had to be double stabilized because they were bursting with books.

  “Yeah, I really need to get an e-reader.” I walked over to join her with the plates in my hand.

  “I’m sorry, I should have offered to help.”

  “Although I burned the chicken, I assure you my sandwich-making abilities are completely intact.”

  I gestured to the couch. I didn’t want the limitations of the dining room table to keep us separated. She sat on one end, taking the plate from me. I sat on the other.

  “Roast beef with spicy mustard. You still like that, right?” I asked her. It upset me that I had to ask her. That I didn’t know the answer.

  “It’s my favorite still. Thank you.”

  “I’m your Huckleberry,” I responded, trying to smile. I realized I’d forgotten the drinks. “Milk or juice?” I asked.

  She looked hesitant. “Actually, I would really love some wine if you have any.”

  I’m such an idiot. We weren’t sixteen anymore. “I’m sorry. Guess I should have asked red or white.”

  “Either is fine. I usually drink milk or juice still, but I could use a glass of wine right now.”

  I nodded, heading into the kitchen. I poured us both a glass of Cabernet Sauvignon and brought the bottle with me.

  I handed her a glass and sat beside her. “I don’t know where to start,” she said, chewing her bottom lip.

  “How about the beginning? Also, if you want me to listen, you’ll stop playing with your lip in that sexy way that makes me want to peel off those shorts.”

  She swallowed her wine. All of it. Then she took my glass from my hand and did the same. I refilled our glasses.

  She put her hand out toward me in a gesture that signaled a handshake. I took her hand, slowly shaking it.

  “It’s nice to meet you, Caleb Tanner. My name is Gabrielle Deluca. That was my birth name. Everyone called me Gabby.”

  I stopped shaking her hand, but I didn’t relinquish it. Instead, I lowered it so I was just holding it. “You will always be Sylvie to me, but please go on.”

  She swallowed, taking a bite of her sandwich and chewing slowly. I tried not to let my impatience show. “I’ve never told this story. I’m not supposed to, but if anyone deserves to know, it’s you.”

  “I’m glad you feel that way. I have so many questions, but I’ll hold off asking them. I don’t want to interrogate you anymore,”
I said, smiling wryly, hoping she’d take comfort from it.

  “My father was in the Mafia.”

  I almost choked on my drink. “What, like a wise guy? Like in Goodfellas or Casino?”

  She laughed. “Hardly like that. He was an accountant. He cooked their books and laundered their money. He’d never even used a gun. I know I told you I was from Boston, but I’m really from New York.”

  “How did a New York girl with a mobster accountant father end up in Podunk Prairie Marsh?”

  She sipped some more wine, but she didn’t down the glass this time. “We were in witness protection.”

  I wasn’t totally surprised. It made sense and was actually one of the theories I’d come up with, although the mobster image didn’t fit her father at all.

  “They killed your mother, right? I just remember you referring to them as cancer.”

  “You remember that?”

  “I remember everything about that night, Sylvie.” I didn’t want to tell her it haunted all my nightmares, or that the images were seared into my skull, like a tattoo.

  “Yes, they killed my mother. My father worked for the Vincetti family. My mother forced him to get out. He started collecting evidence and went to the Feds. They agreed to put us in witness protection, but by then, someone in the family had found out and shown up our house. My father wasn’t home. My mother hid me in the fake drop floor. I could see through a vent into the living room. Edward Vincetti kept asking her where my father was, but she refused to tell him. He shot her, execution style. I stood there like a statue as they killed my mother. They ran off right before the Feds showed up.”

  “I’m so sorry, Sylvie. I wish I had known.”

  “I wasn’t supposed to tell anyone the truth. The cancer was a lie concocted by the US Marshals who protected us. They trained me on what I was allowed to say.” She turned to me, new tears forming at the corner of her eyes. I wiped them before they could fall. “I’ve told you so many lies, but I wasn’t lying about how I felt for you. Never once. You believe that, right?”

  I nodded. “I always knew there were things you were hiding from me, even as a kid, but somehow I felt it was better not to ask you or you’d run away from me.”

  “That was very astute of you, but you always seemed very intuitive.”

  “The only intuition I have ever had was when it came to you. I always felt like we were connected.”

  “Me too.” I placed my hand on her knee, rubbing it. She looked down at it. “I need to get through this, and it would be easier for me if you didn’t touch me right now.”

  I lifted my hand. “I understand. I’m sorry I interrupted. I know this is hard for you.”

  “Anyway, my father and I were relocated to Prairie Marsh. I wish you could have known him, Cal.”

  “I did know him.”

  “No, I mean the way he was. Before my mother died. He was a good dad and husband.”

  My jaw clenched. “And a criminal. He put you in danger. I know how he was with you, Sylvie, and that’s all I need to know. I’m sorry you lost him that night, but you know I’ve never approved of the way he treated you.”

  “You have to understand it from his perspective. When he first started, he didn’t even know he was working for the Mob. He thought they were all legit organizations until Edward Vincetti wanted him to start doing some illegal things. In fact, my mother and I never knew…until much later. He never once laid a hand on me, Cal.”

  “Neglect is a form of abuse, Sylvie, but I won’t talk ill of the deceased anymore, especially not someone you loved.”

  “I think he always blamed himself for what happened to my mother. He thought I was at fault too.”

  “Why in the hell would he blame you?” I demanded. She winced in response and I immediately felt guilty. I tucked a strand of her hair around her ear. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to yell.”

  She twisted a piece of hair between her fingers. “’Kay. I’m getting to that part. I think you know the rest of what happened to lead up to that night, though.”

  “They found you.”

  “Yes, but it wasn’t like a normal hit. At least, I don’t think so. They usually send people to do that—professionals, so they don’t get their hands dirty. They didn’t. It was Edward Vincetti’s son, Eddie Junior, and his uncle who came personally. Eddie was our age.”

  “You mean that son of a bitch who shot you was only sixteen?”

  “He didn’t shoot me. His uncle did. Eddie shot you.”

  It occurred to me that my perspective on the events was somewhat cloudy since I had suffered a concussion and bullet hole to the leg that night. “Are you still in danger?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “How can you not know?”

  “I don’t fear the Vincetti family per se. My father testified against Edward Vincetti and his meticulous records sent the man to jail for a long time along with most of the key people in his organization. He died in prison of a heart attack. The Mob isn’t what it used to be, Cal. Most of the family is either in jail, dead or powerless. Besides the vendetta would have been against my father and they took care of him. There is no reason for them to seek revenge against me.”

  “What aren’t you telling me?”

  “Eddie’s uncle was found dead a few months later. Forensics suggests he was killed that night.”

  I gawked at her. How had I not known this? “I thought they were never found.”

  “The Feds made up that story to avoid questions. It was all covered up. Eddie killed him.”

  “Why would he do that?”

  “I think because he shot me.” She stared at me, and took my hand again. “Eddie and I used to play together. I guess we were friends. My father liked that because it helped him move up the ranks of the organization. He was never a normal kid, though. He used to do strange things. Anyway, he’s still out there so I’m not really sure.”

  “Tell me what he did to you.”

  “It’s not important.”

  “It is to me. He bit you, didn’t he? You had a bite mark the day I met you, and one the day…” I put my head down, unable to say the words.

  “The day I died,” she finished for me. “Yes, he started biting me. He liked to draw blood. He said we were playing vampires and it was normal. There were other things too.”

  “Like what?”

  “I think he killed my cat, Snowball.”

  “What?”

  “Yeah, I don’t have any proof, but he was always so rough with her, and then I found her behind my house one day. Her skull was crushed.” Her voice cracked. I put my arm around her, hoping she wouldn’t push me away again. She didn’t. She rested her head against my chest. “We were kids and it’s hard to remember everything, but I was always so scared of him. He told me to never tell my parents or his dad would kill my dad. At the time, I though he meant fire him from his job, but I think he actually meant it literally. So I never told. I buried my cat in a shoebox in the backyard. My parents assumed she ran away.”

  “He’s psychotic.”

  “I think he was, which explains why he came himself to finish the job. They would never have sent him.”

  “He wanted to take you. I remember him talking about it and then he whispered in your ear. Do you remember what he said?”

  She breathed in deeply. “He said he’d be back for me.”

  My fists clenched and I had a sudden desire to pummel them into the nearest wall, but the last thing I wanted to do was scare her even more.

  “He’s not getting anywhere near you. If I had known, I would have always carried my Remington with me, and I never would have let you out of my sight.”

  She shook her head, and laughed cynically. “That’s exactly why I didn’t tell you, Tex. I was already putting you in danger. Not just you, but your family. When your father died I was so worried that it had something to do with my family’s past.” I straightened up immediately, but she calmed me instantly by resting her hand on my arm. “D
on’t worry, I had the US Marshal assigned to our case verify it was random. It felt like a wakeup call, though, and I never wanted to be the reason for your pain, so I tried to distance myself, but I couldn’t. Instead, I figured I could be there for you as a friend, but in a secret way.”

  “That’s why you never went out with me?”

  “Partially, but also because you were the most popular boy at school, and we were instructed to keep a low profile. I didn’t think dating you would be wise.”

  “Damn, girl, you know how rejected I felt?”

  “Yes, I had an idea. Trust me, it was harder on me.”

  “How would it be harder on you?”

  She turned and stared at me. “Funny, I thought we had this connection. How could it not be, Cal? I wanted nothing more than to let all those girls who constantly vied for your attention know that you were mine, but I cared for you so much that I was willing to let you go.”

  “I wouldn’t have chosen that…ever. I would have given my life for you.”

  She caressed my hand, and brought it up to her lips, kissing it. “I know. That’s why I chose for you.”

  “Were you packing that night I came to talk to you?”

  “Yes, we were leaving.”

  “You weren’t going to tell me? You were just going to up and leave me?”

  “Only because I didn’t think you’d let me go and I was avoiding that conversation. I didn’t want you to hate me like my dad.”

  I couldn’t take it anymore. I pulled her onto my lap. I embraced her, feeling her beating heart against mine. “I would never hate you. How could you even think that?”

  “I didn’t think my father would ever hate me either.”

  I tilted her chin toward me. “Tell me why he did, because you never explained that.”

  “That was Eddie too. You see, my father was okay with being in the Mob in the end. He figured he made a good life for us and he didn’t directly do anything immoral. He wasn’t really doing the bad stuff. It was my mother who noticed the bites. I finally came clean and she insisted my father confront Edward Vincetti.”

  “Did he?”