by Emerson Rose
“Listen to me, lady, you are going to calm down or I will not give you one single shred of information about Maria. This is precisely why you have been kept in the dark about it. I knew you would never stay put in bed if you thought she needed you, which she doesn’t. She is being well cared for.”
I’m panting with anger and adrenaline surges through my body the way it used to when someone touched me unexpectedly.
This has never happened with Marcus. He’s been cautious and mindful of my hang-ups, except for the handcuffs. Those were a total surprise. I struggle, and he clutches me tighter.
“Uh-uh, calm down first,” he says with authority in my ear. I try, really I do, but it’s hard. I’ve had a million hours of self-defense training since my attack and every cell in my body screams get away, hurt him, run!
Hormones and frustration win out, and two tears stream down my cheeks onto his hand. “Oh, damn it, Imani.” He curses and loosens his hold, turning me to face him. I stand wooden, with my arms at my sides and my forehead against his chest looking at the floor.
“She has uterine cancer. We found out in Italy, but she wanted to come home for treatment.” Cancer! That’s a far fucking cry from a cold!
“You lied to me.” I step out of the circle of his arms.
“For your own good.”
Seriously? “I am a grown woman not to mention a nurse and your wife! You have to stop making these decisions for me, stop holding back important information. I’ve been through hell and back in my life, Marcus! Frankly it’s insulting that you think I can’t handle the truth. I’ve been broken and mended more times than I can count. Don’t treat me like china. I’m fucking tough as nails!”
My vision blurs for a few seconds and my body is vibrating with anger. Marcus takes a step forward. I take a step back. That’s how our relationship works except I think it’s more like the saying one step forward two steps back. Will this ever be easy?
“I am going to go into the kitchen. You’re angry with me and I understand that you need a moment, but you must know this, so listen, please.”
He slides his hands into his pockets and tilts his head to the side narrowing his eyes before he continues. My hands have tightened into tiny fists, and I feel a trickle of perspiration slide down the middle of my back. Why is it so damn hot in here?
“You are my world, my universe, my infinity. I live for you. Without you, I am nothing, gone, a fleeting memory of only a handful of people. I have one sole purpose now. One, and that is to make you happy. I want to make damn sure that you know how much I love you every minute of the rest of your life. You need to understand without a shadow of a doubt, that you are cherished and loved by me. I am not accustomed to failure, and I feel like I’m failing you. This is the way I love. It’s all I know, it’s who I am, and I don’t know another way. If you aren’t happy and, it’s clear that you aren’t, I am asking you to teach me and be patient. I am a stubborn man and I resist change so it won’t be easy. I wanted to spare you the pain of Maria’s illness. I know how much you care for her, and as you said, you have been to hell and back and broken. Some of those times I was the cause. I simply cannot allow you to suffer like that anymore.”
I feel like he has thrown cold water on my fire extinguishing my anger. He reversed the entire flow of energy between us.
“You’re not failing me. My God, you have never failed me.” I launch myself into his arms and wrap my legs around his waist. I cling to him desperate to find a way to make him understand that I adore him and the crazy, untraditional way he loves me. He could never ever fail me. He fills my soul with joy and happiness every day even though he infuriates me.
“I love you so very much,” he murmurs into my neck. “I won’t live without you.”
“You will never have to. You go, I go, remember?”
One Hundred Two
“I don’t want breakfast anymore. I want to go to the hospital to see Maria.”
“She won’t see you, she won’t see anyone.”
“What? Why?”
“She knew you were pregnant when we left Italy. It wasn’t just me that didn’t want to stress you out with her news, she didn’t want you to worry about her either.”
“Well, for fuck’s sake, of course I’m going to worry about her. She has cancer!”
He shakes his head. “Come on, I’ll feed you and call the hospital to see if she will make an exception. I know you’re not going to let this rest. The specialist’s office is in the same hospital where Maria is. If he takes you off of bed rest maybe, and I mean maybe, we can stop to see her if she allows it.”
He scoops me behind my knees and around my shoulders and carries me into the kitchen that isn’t as bright without Maria. His manhandling makes me feel like a toddler. The new doctor better take me off of bed rest before I lose my mind.
Mr. Black is at the stove putting together BLTs. A few minutes ago the smell nauseated me but now they sound pretty damn good.
Black slides a plate in front of me with the most enormous sandwich I’ve ever seen. Marcus saunters to the counter and pours himself a cup of coffee. I miss coffee.
“Can I have a cup of coffee, please?”
“I’ll make you some decaffeinated.”
I sigh and roll my eyes. “I don’t want it then.” I pout my lip and he gives me the strangest look.
“What? There’s no point in drinking decaffeinated coffee.” He looks down into his is coffee cup that is suspended halfway to his mouth.
“I don’t like refusing you anything.” His voice is low and his tone serious.
“Then don’t.”
The left side of his beautiful lip lifts in a small smile. “I said I don’t like to, not that I won’t.”
I scrunch up my face and stick out my tongue. “You did not just stick out your tongue at me.”
“Yes, I did.”
“That’s five, missy, and you know I don’t like uneven numbers.”
I’m tempted to do it again but I don’t, so that we can be stuck on the very irritating number five for a very long time.
“I know what you are thinking and I am going to be extra watchful for slip-ups today that might get you to six.”
“Yeah, yeah, okay.” I flip my hand at him dismissively and smash down the monster sandwich so that it fits into my mouth. From the first bite I try to figure out what makes this the best BLT I have ever eaten and I decide it must be the company. Marcus makes even the simplest situation fun with his unique aura of authority and tenderness.
He is casually watching me enjoy every bite with a look of total satisfaction on his face while he reads the news on an iPad.
“When did you get that?” I ask chewing a big bite of my sandwich. I gesture toward the new electronic device in his hands.
He cringes, “Chew your food, I can’t understand you when you talk with your mouth full.” I press my lips together and giggle while I finish chewing the oversized bite.
“I said when did you get that?”
His eyebrows knit together with confusion. “You gave it to me. It arrived yesterday with a note from you. I was going to thank you this morning but we got sidetracked. Did you forget that you ordered it?”
“Uh, no… I wouldn’t forget ordering something like that for you. What did the note say?”
He flips the black leather case around and inside a pocket there is a blue piece of card stock. He hands it to me. On the opposite side is a handwritten note that says ‘For your music.’ A shiver runs down my spine.
“Marcus, I did not send this to you. And it’s not signed by me, or anyone. Didn’t you think that was unusual?”
“You use an iPad for music all the time. It didn’t seem strange at the time. You really didn’t send this?”
“No!” Everyone stares at the mysterious gift. “Did you check to see if there is a playlist?” I ask.
“Well, no. I guess I didn’t think…”
“You never read much Nancy Drew growing up, did you?”
I grab it from him and tap my way to iTunes where I find one playlist with one song. It’s titled ‘You Did It to Yourself’ and the song is Lies, Greed, and Misery. My heart plummets into my stomach.
“Imani, what is it? You’re white as a sheet!” I pass it back to him and stare out the window into the garden.
I happen to know the hook of that Linkin Park song. “I wanna see you choke on your lies, swallow up your greed, suffer all alone in your misery.”
Somebody is coming for him… or us. They want him to suffer which is the same as wanting all four of us to suffer. We’re a family, a unit, a body, that doesn’t function without one of its vital organs.
Marcus’s voice is muffled. I can’t decipher what he’s saying to me. I’m frozen in fear of another unknown.
“Imani,” Marcus says raising his voice.
I jump, “Sorry.” He reaches out to touch my arm, and I flinch.
“Don’t apologize, baby, just tell me what is going on? What is this?”
“That song…” I whisper.
“You know it?”
“Yes.”
“What does it mean?” he asks, running his hand up and down my arm. I can’t remember the exact words so I reach for his phone on of the table and Google the lyrics. We lock eyes for a moment when I hand it to him. His frown deepens as he reads.
“Fuck.” His curse scares me.
“Who would do this, Marcus?” Mr. Black reads the lyrics over Marcus’s shoulder. He moved to his side the moment he realized something was wrong.
“A million people. It could be anyone from his past,” Black says.
“I thought we had all of that handled,” Marcus says.
“Apparently not,” Black says.
Handled? Apparently not? What the hell is going on now? More fucking secrets.
“Marcus!”
“Imani, calm down. I will talk to you about this but not until I am convinced that you are going to listen without stressing the fuck out.” His words are steady, poignant and direct.
Calm the fuck down or stay in the dark, message received loud and clear.
“Okay, I need a minute.” I’m panting with fear and anxiety at the thought of someone from his past seeking revenge.
“Do you need to lie down?” Probably, I would actually love just to close my eyes and wish this all away. Denial and avoidance sound lovely right about now.
“No, I’ll be alright.” He scoots his chair closer to mine.
“Give us a few minutes,” he says to Black and hands him the iPad.
“Shush… it’s probably just some nut job trying to extort money from me, we can handle it. Don’t worry.” He rubs his hand in small circles over my back while I take deep breaths, trying to prove to him that I can handle whatever he is going to tell me.
“Are you OK now?” I give him a tiny nod, but in no way do I believe a word of his shit. He’s lying, trying to protect me from his past but I’m starting to think there is no way to escape it.
The other Marcus will always be out there being loathed, despised and… hunted.
It’s time for a mental pep talk. ‘Okay, Imani, get your shit together. Get your game face on. Girl, this is important on so many levels.’
I look up at the ceiling and blow out a long breath before beginning my new acting career with a star performance.
“I’m good. Really. I don’t know what came over me. It’s just that song is so hateful and violent, and I’m hormonal. Go ahead with what you have to say, I’m fine. I swear.”
I force my anxiety down into a little box where I will deal with it later. It’s a trick I’ve been diligently coached by therapists for years not to do. Now seems like a perfect time to pull out some dusty old habits.
He is examining me closely, considering my sudden change of emotional state. The pregnancy has him unsure of his usual mind reading abilities, hormones can make a man doubt his own sanity so it’s not completely unbelievable that I could have calmed so suddenly.
Narrowing his eyes, I see the gears turning in his complex, multifaceted mind. He’s falling for my act.
“I was going to have to tell you this sooner or later, it may as well be now. But I swear to God, Imani, if I see that artery in your neck quicken a fraction we are done here, understand?”
Shit, okay calm thoughts: the beach, a picnic in the park on a spring day, reading a good book. Fuck it, this isn’t working. My anxiety-ridden imagination is running wild instead.
“See, you’re already getting worked up.”
Okay, bring on the charm, Imani. I slip my hand between his legs. Oh yes, he’s taught me well; the power of distraction is a wonderful thing.
“I was thinking about you and me, naked on a beach.” I use my best sex kitten voice, and, I’ll be damned, it works.
“On the beach?”
“Yep, on an island, with the ocean waves nipping at our toes, the warm breeze blowing my tangled hair around my naked, brown skin while I ride…”
“Okay, stop. Fuck, Imani.” He mutters something under his breath about tempting a saint, and I smile.
“I see what you are doing, you’re not fooling me for a minute. Let’s go in the living room where it’s more comfortable. You can lie back and listen to me.”
I shrug my shoulders casually, and he plucks me from my chair. “I would love to throw you over my shoulder right now and spank that gorgeous perfect ass of yours.”
“Go for it, boss. I deserve it.” I pucker up my lips and use an exaggerated naughty girl voice.
“Mm, you get more wicked by the minute, don’t you? That’s six for tempting me. Ah, an even number again, it feels so good,” he says, taunting me.
“I guess you did warn me, didn’t you?”
“I certainly did.” He gently places me on one end of the couch in front of the monstrous fireplace that is now magically burning. Who the hell builds that fire and how do they know exactly when we will need it? This was an impromptu living room visit, completely unplanned.
He sits gracefully on the opposite end of the couch and pulls my feet into his lap. He removes my shoes, arranging them side by side on the floor next to the couch. He presses his thumbs into the arch of my foot, and I moan out loud in appreciation.
“Oh my God, that feels so good. Why haven’t you ever done that before?”
“I have never had to resist you before. I’m keeping my distance down here.” I drop my head back against the overstuffed purple pillow and let my body melt into the plush piece of furniture while he works on one foot and then the other.
“You missed your calling. You would have been an awesome masseuse.”
“I would have ended up working as a male escort if all my clients moaned as much as you do when I touch them.”
“Hush.” I giggle at his playful tone but inside I shudder at the idea of him as a male escort. He is mine. The thought is preposterous and nauseating, or is that lunch threatening to make a repeat appearance?
“Relax and take a deep breath. Try to keep the food down. There’s nowhere for you to vomit and I’m partial to this rug.” I close my eyes and take a deep breath and then another until my BLT settles back into its rightful place.
“Better?”
“Yeah, I think so.”
“Imani, I don’t know who sent that tablet, but I am fairly confident it isn’t anyone from my days leading the Family. Can you think of anyone who would want to hurt you?”
The first person to pop into my thoughts is the man who got away and went unpunished after my attack. I turn my face toward the warmth of the fire and hesitate to reply.
My husband has a long reach and connections with some of the world's worst criminals. I don’t want him to risk our new life together going after a shadow from my past.
“I’m always looking for him. If he is found, he is a dead man, baby. I don’t think that is who we are looking for right now, though.” I face his all-knowing eyes and see my pain reflected in his sparkling bright green, violet-rimme
d eyes. He still amazes me with his ability to read my every thought.
A ghost of a smile tips the corners of my lips up in thanks and appreciation of his love.
“You’ve been looking for him? Please, Marcus, just leave it, he’s not worth your time or money, and he’s dangerous.”
“Yes, I am looking for him. I have had a team scouring the earth since the day you laid in my arms in my aunt’s bed in Italy and told me your horror story. As for not being worth my time or money, I would spend every last dime I have and I would search until the end of time to find him and end him slowly, painfully. I’m not the man I used to be but what he did is unforgivable and I take your safety personally.”
“Oh.” My one-word answer says it all. It says holy shit that guy better watch his back. It says I’m so glad I’m not on Marcus Castillo’s bad side. And it says he better be a master at staying hidden or else.
“Anyway, do you? Have anyone other than that maggot that would have a reason to threaten you?”
“No, of course not, no one,” I reply quickly.
“Alright then, it must be me.”
“What makes you so sure it’s not the Mafia?”
“That is what I need to talk to you about. When I had my emergency surgery in Italy everyone was aware of my health issues. Doctor Lorenzo was offered an obscene amount of money to snuff me out during surgery by another Family leader.” I straighten up and tug my feet from his hands to sit cross-legged facing him.
“He what? But he…”
“He took it.”
“Okay, now I’m super confused. Why are you sitting here talking to me if he was paid to kill you?” My fucking heart is beating so loud I’m surprised he hasn’t stopped the conversation.
I pull up my knees and wrap my arms around them. My hair falls forward hiding my neck and hopefully keeping my racing pulse a secret. He pulls one knee up and turns to face me straight on.
“Nice try. I’ll finish anyway. You can stop hiding your neck from me like I am a vampire.”
I roll my eyes, “Go on then, I’m confused.”
