Love and Sacrifice: The Pierce Family Trilogy #2

by Chelsea Ballinger

  Ella

  “So, why did you sell drugs?” I ask Tommy as we walk along the beach.

  “Because it was the only thing I was good at.”

  “That’s bullshit.” He jerks his head at my not-so-subtle response.

  “Why is that bullshit? I didn’t have money like you do.”

  “It’s not about money, Tommy. What skill goes into drug dealing?”

  “Persuasion, intimidation, good supply.”

  “Then why didn’t you become a car salesman or a lawyer? Or go to college and major in marketing?”

  “You know, this is our third time hanging out and you’re already getting on my damn nerves,” he tells me as I kick the sand with my bare feet.

  “Please, I’ve been getting on your nerves since you first met me. Just tell the truth; you sold drugs because you wanted to.”

  “Okay, so what? At the same time it was all I knew. I grew up in the neighborhood that was literally hell, it even has ‘hell’ in the name.”

  “So, who was the guy you assaulted?”

  “I told you. This guy who was talking shit and trying to sell in our territory. I was given the order to teach him a lesson, so I did.”

  “Do you regret it?”

  “What’s with all the questions, Ella?” Tommy stops walking.

  “I just want to know if you regret it.”

  He stares at the ocean for a moment. “I regret getting caught and going to prison.”

  I’ve discovered a trait of his. When he’s lying, he stares away. A typical thing people do when they lie, but with him it’s different. It’s like it’s a lie he doesn’t even want to admit to himself, like he believes his own bullshit.

  “So what about your family?” he asks me. His tone sounds a little harsh.

  “What about them?”

  “What are they like?”

  “My Mom is awesome. She gets on my nerves with how straight she tells things. Like she doesn’t sugarcoat anything and thinks she’s right all the damn time. And yeah, ninety percent of the time she is, but I don’t like to admit that.”

  “Well, I know where you get that from.”

  My mouth drops and I punch him in the chest. “Asshole.” He giggles a little and I’m relieved he’s not uncomfortable or mad anymore.

  “What about your brother?”

  “Donovan is Donovan. Heart of gold, conflicted in the soul.”

  “What?”

  “He’s your typical good guy with a bad side. He’s like my Dad with that and like my Dad; he has Claudia who blocks the bad side in him. She’s really good for him.”

  “What is Claudia like?”

  “Claudia is great. Actually, we used to hate each other, well I hated her, then she grew to hate me. Especially after everything I did.”

  “What did you do?”

  I scratch the top of my head and bite my lip. I’m nervous about telling him my mistakes. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “Screw that! You give me the third degree and I tell you all my criminal acts so you give up the high school girl drama that you and your friends created.”

  I roll my eyes because he is right. It’s not fair for him to tell me his past mistakes and I not tell him mine. “Remember that guy at the mall?” He nods. “Well, he used to date Claudia. While they were dating… we slept together.”

  “That’s bogus,” he says with a sly grin.

  “Yeah, I know. What’s funny is that everyone actually thought I slept with Eric just to piss off Claudia, but I didn’t. I slept with him because I actually liked him. It was stupid and naïve of me, but when I got to Eastbrook and Christian died, I was lost. Not only does one brother die, but the other gets shipped off to another country. My parents go into depression and I ─ ”

  “You didn’t have anyone by your side.”

  I’m trying not to cry here. The way Tommy just said that was so knowing and endearing and nice. It’s just nice to hear someone say it.

  “Yeah… and I’m not blaming my family. I understood, but it was times when I wanted to just yell and say ‘help me.’” I watch his eyes study me and it makes me feel vulnerable. This should bother me, but it doesn’t. “So, one day I was in school in the library crying my eyes out by my lonesome and in walks Eric Anderson, the cutest and most popular boy in school. He was nice to me and what started out as texting turned into secret meetings and eventually me losing my virginity to him. After we had sex he acted like it was nothing. I watched him pretend with Claudia and then found out he was sleeping with every girl in the school, and I envied her. I envied Claudia and her dad was trying to put my dad in jail so I told her in front of the whole damn school.”

  “Well, we all fuck up sometimes.” Tommy shrugs and it’s so cute to me. “So what about your brother and Claudia? Wasn’t it wrong for him to fall for the daughter of the enemy?”

  “Well, it’s kind of complicated. They didn’t know who each other was when they first met. Yeah, maybe, when they found out they should have stopped, but I literally think they couldn’t. They are so in love with one another that I don’t think they could ever stop. They look at each other like my parents do. I’ve never really understood that. How you could be so consumed by someone. I still think it’s crazy.”

  “You don’t want a love like that?”

  “It’s like I do, but I really don’t.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I’m not the girl who wants to lose control. If I have it under control, I won’t get my heart broken.”

  Chapter 7

  “Mystery Vs Truth”

  Tommy

  "You didn't tell me about your dad." I slide that question in after the conversation about love.

  She doesn't want to get her heart broken and I should be happy that I might be the one to break it, but it's seriously killing me right now.

  "My dad is definitely one of a kind." She smiles to herself. "He's this hard ass, but he has the biggest heart."

  “A mobster with a heart of gold, that's a new one.”

  "Yeah, it seriously is. Thanks to that heart he gave up… well, he gave up most of the mob life. He's no saint, but he does protect us. It's been hard since Christian, but I think he's starting to get back to not looking over his shoulder every five seconds."

  Well, that's about to change.

  "What about your family?" She asks me the question I don’t want to answer. "What was your mom like?"

  "French," I say.

  "Do you know French?"

  "Not really. A few words. She died before she could teach me anymore."

  "What else?"

  "She was amazing. She was beautiful and she loved me. Everybody in the neighborhood was in love with her. Unfortunately, she chose my dad."

  "What was he like?"

  "An asshole. He didn't deserve her. Hell, I didn't deserve her."

  "Why do you say that? Tommy, she was your mom."

  "Yeah, but if she hadn't got pregnant with me, she wouldn't have been stuck with him."

  "You don't know that."

  "Yes, I do. So, leave it at that."

  "Okay." She holds up her hands in surrender.

  "So...." She stops walking again and looks at me. "You want to kiss me again?"

  I smile and I place my finger on my chin and act like I have a better choice.

  "I guess," I joke with her.

  "Really, you guess?" She moves pass me. "Well, let me know when you stop guessing."

  I laugh and grab her wrist, pulling her into a kiss. The first kiss was crazy and aggressive, but this one is nice and tender. I love the way her lips feel and how her tongue licks the roof my mouth. Ella Pierce is indeed a great kisser. And I would love nothing more than to take her back to my apartment and let her kiss every part of me.

  We finally come up for air and I rub her cheeks with my hands while she wraps her arms around me.

  "I like you," I tell her, without even thinking. I don't say it with a secret motive nor do I inte
ntionally have a plan behind it.

  "I like you too."

  We continue our walk on the beach, but this time holding hands, something I‘ve never done before.

  Ella

  "So, Ella," my mom says as she passes me a fork for my chopped watermelon. "Tell me about the guy you’re seeing."

  "What?" I almost drop the fork on the kitchen table. "What guy?"

  "Ella, I wasn't born yesterday. You've been ducking in and out of here for the past couple of days like a crazy person. I know you’re seeing a boy."

  I sigh. "Okay, I didn't want to tell you because I don't want Dad to know yet."

  "Why not? Who is he?"

  "His name is Tommy and..... he got out of prison two years ago." I quickly let out that last part.

  My mother drops her fork on the plate. “What? He just got out of prison?”

  “Yeeaahh?” I slowly slur out my answer into a question while wincing.

  “Ella, where the hell did you meet this guy?”

  “Funny you ask me that, he was a waiter at my graduation party. And then I ran into him at the mall and then I ran into him at All Saints Cemetery when I visited Christian’s grave.”

  “Ella.” My mom places her hand over mine. “I didn’t know you’ve been visiting your brother.”

  “Yeah, I go sometimes. It’s relaxing to go by myself and just talk to him.”

  “Yeah, it is,” my mother’s answer shows me that I’m not the only one who has been visiting Christian’s grave. I wouldn’t be shocked if the whole family does that from time to time.

  “Okay, so back to this boy.” My mom refocuses to my mystery guy. Not wanting to remember the night she lost her eldest child.

  “Tommy Dumas, he grew up in Hell’s Kitchen, went to jail for possession… and assault.” I shrug my shoulders like it’s no big deal.

  “Assault?”

  “You question assault, but not possession?”

  “No sweetie, possession is bad enough, but assault hits the mark.”

  “Well Mom, it’s a bit hypocritical for this family to judge, don’t you think?”

  “Ella, I am not judging. Yes, most of the sources from this family’s income are not exactly eligible for the best model citizen’s award, but you know your dad doesn’t want you getting involved with trouble. Our choices were trouble enough and the life we provide for you is so you won’t make the same mistakes.”

  “Mom, I’m not going to marry the guy, we’re just hanging out. He actually moved here to get away from it all and he works a legit job now.”

  “And good for him, but sweetie there are dangers in this world that can sneak up on you. And what did you mean when said you ran into him at the cemetery? Why was he there?”

  “Obviously, someone he knew was buried there, Mom.”

  “Don’t be a smartass.”

  I give her a sly grin, but quickly get serious for a moment. “It was his mom. She’s buried in the same cemetery. He actually said that his mom used to tell him the same saying about the cemetery that you’ve always told us.”

  “Really? That is a big coincidence.”

  “I know, right?”

  “Maybe it’s fate.”

  “You were just lecturing me. Now you’re about to get all romantic?”

  “No, I’m not. I’m just saying fate does exist. If I hadn’t come that day to my father’s office the same day your grandfather ─ ”

  “Sent Dad, you would have never met and fell in love and we would have never existed on this lovely planet.” I bat my eyelashes, mocking my mother’s story.

  She points her fork at me and tries to hide her smile. “Joke all you want, but it’s true.”

  “I know mom, but please, don’t tell dad about him because the last guy I hung out with, dad pulled out his gun and sat it on the kitchen table just to intimidate the kid. And I remind you we were fourteen. So imagine if he found out that I was possibly seeing an ex con.”

  “I don’t know, Ella.” My mom shakes her head.

  “Mom, please. Give me at least a couple a weeks to figure this whatever thing we have and then you guys can meet him, I swear.” I clasp my hands together and give her my baby face, poking my lip out.

  “Oh please, that stopped working when you started growing boobs.”

  I drop the face.

  “But, I will give you some time and then if things with this guy get serious, we have to meet him, Ella.”

  “Okay, deal.”

  Thank God I didn’t mention the whole him threatening two guys from my school with a gun.

  Chapter 8

  “Why Do You Have To Be?”

  Tommy

  “So, this is your place,” Ella says as she walks around the small living room that is connected to the extra small kitchen.

  “Yep,” I say with my hands behind my back, and for some reason I’m nervous about her seeing my apartment. The messed-up thing about it is that I’m not nervous about her finding the files on her family in the portable safe under the floor in my living room or the five guns hiding throughout the apartment, but the apartment period: It’s small and located in a not-so-great neighborhood, but I do my best to keep it clean. I’m actually kind of a neat freak.

  “You’re a neat freak.” I look at her in shock.

  “What makes you say that?”

  “The bleach smell coming from the kitchen, and I can literally taste the Pine Sol you used to scrub down the coffee table.” She points to the coffee table in the middle of the living room. “You scrubbed it so hard that some of the paint has come off and I know it’s not from sitting drinks down because you have worn out coasters stacked up on the other side of the table.”

  You would think she’s a cop, a smart cop at that. Like the ones from CSI.

  “You came to that conclusion from the table?”

  She shrugs. “Yep.”

  “You’re weird.”

  “No, you’re weird.” She studies my CDs next to my TV. “Mr. I listen to the 60s.”

  “Music died in 2000,” I defend my music collection.

  She laughs. “And you still listen to CDs.”

  “I haven’t gotten to buying me an mp3 player yet.”

  “I knew you were that old soul type.”

  “You still buy records.”

  “True.”

  “Anyways, you can blame my mom for that.”

  “My parents love Sam Cooke,” she says as she picks up one of my favorite albums.

  “Then your parents have great taste in music.” I sit on the couch and she joins me.

  “So, what do you want to do?” I ask her.

  She lifts her legs on the couch and turns to me. “Tell me what happened before you went to prison.”

  Ella

  That was a trigger for sure.

  He shakes his head and looks down at his lap. He rubs his hands together in a rough way and turns to face me, lifting one leg on the couch and touching mine. It’s sending another one of those great feelings I get when he touches me.

  “I sold heroin and cocaine. I made good money and all I have ever known was respect and loyalty, nothing else.”

  His shirt lifts up a little as he shifts on the couch. I can see a scar circling around his waist. Without thinking, I gently press my fingertips against it and his reaction startles me as he grabs my wrist, squeezing it tight. I have to admit he’s scaring me.

  "What are you doing?" he asks, his voice full of tension and confusion.

  "Nothing, just keep talking."

  He is hesitant for a second, but soon releases my hand, letting me place it on his bare waist. I don't move it; I just keep it in place. I will move it when I see he is comfortable.

  "Um, well yeah, there was this guy and he was talking smack at this club. Talking about how he and his guys were going to be taking over our territory, so I responded to him with the only way I knew how to. I beat the shit out of him and I mean really beat the shit out of him. I bashed his head so hard in the floor tha
t he has to write out things just to remember them." He gives me a nervous look. He's scared I'm going to walk away. "Cops found me out in the street and chased me for about eight blocks until this big ass cop tackled me. Unfortunately, I wasn't smart enough to throw away the cocaine and heroin I had in my car. Thank God, it wasn’t a whole lot. So I got two years in the state pen and boy did I get a reality check. The guys in juvie I can handle, but the men in prison, they were… " I start slowly rubbing my hand around his waist, feeling the scar. It feels like the scar Donovan has on his hand from when he was little. It’s rough and blended with his already smooth skin. I slide my hand to his lower back and feel another scar. He sits up and just takes off his shirt. My heart drops at the sight of scars and tattoos on his body. His body is amazing, but still you can see the rough life he has lived on it. From his mother’s name placed on the space where his heart is, to the demon character tattoos on his arms.

  "They were demons that tried to destroy me. The second day they tried to come after me, but I fought them off. I did that every day for the rest of my time there. They never got me. I was sent to the infirmary about a dozen times. I was placed in solitary and because of this one time I fought another guy off with a blade, another year was added to my sentence. That’s how I got the scar above my eye. He sliced me, I‘m lucky he didn’t take my eye out. I got cool with this guard and guy name Stokie at one point and I hustled stuff for them. Cigarettes, soap, anything to keep those assholes off me. It was the worst time of my life. I'm never going back."

  The determination and conviction in his face when he says that scares me a little. It's like he is willing to die instead of going back. I can't say that I blame him. I could only imagine the things he has seen in a place like that.

  I decide to push further while gently tracing each scar on his body. "Why did you get sent to juvie, Tommy?"