by S. J. Bishop
“I know. And I’m afraid his current ties are gonna haunt me for the rest of my life. That’s why I want to get the hell out of here.” Vanessa drew a card and discarded it without looking at her hand.
“You’re a very smart…very determined woman. I’m sure you’ll make a name for yourself, no matter what you choose to do,” I assured her, being completely honest.
“When I grow up?” she teased.
“Yep. Gin.” I spread my cards on the table.
“You cheat!” She threw her cards down in mock indignation.
“Hey, I told you to start dealing your own damn self.” I beamed as I gathered the cards to deal the next hand.
24
Vanessa
It had been three more days, and we still didn’t have our new identification. Martin said that it would be any day now, but I was starting to not believe him. I was not sure what was going on with his higher ups, but I was losing confidence in the entire operation. Part of me just wanted to go back home and take my chances with Amara. But then I remembered that going home meant leaving Martin, and I just couldn’t bring myself to do that.
Things had become more intimate between us over this time period. His walls had finally started coming down, and I didn’t want to do anything to jeopardize that. So, when on the fourth evening he suggested that we add alcohol to our nightly game of poker, I agreed emphatically. I was just happy that he didn’t hold my unfortunate graduation party incident against me.
It was around three drinks in when I saw him unbutton the top button of his shirt. I’d already given him so much grief about wearing a button-down shirt around the house that I tried not to make any overt noise or eye contact to signal that I noticed.
“Do you want another drink?” Martin asked as he undid the second button and got up from the table.
“I don’t think that’s wise.” I smiled at him with that look on my face that said I would pounce on him if given the chance. By this time, he was quite used to seeing it.
“One more it is.” I saw the grin spread across his face and wasted no time. I jumped up from my side of the table and ran to him, throwing my arms around him and shoving both of us into the wall. “Easy now,” he gently pushed me off of him but left his hands wrapped around my waist. “I didn’t mean it quite like that. I’m sorry. You know I can’t.”
I slunk down off of him, feeling like I was going to cry. “Why would you tease me like that?” I went back over to the card table and stared intently at my hand so he couldn’t see the tears.
From across the room, I heard him sigh. “I’m so sorry. Maybe it’s the alcohol, I don’t know. I shouldn’t have done that.” He poured both of us another drink and brought them back to the table. “You have to know that I want you more than I’ve wanted anything in my life. But I have a duty to your father, and I’m a man of my word. I’m nothing without my word.” He put his head in his hands.
I wanted to yell and throw things across the room, tell him damn my father and his morality clause. But I saw the look on his face and knew that this was as hard for him as it was for me. Instead, I went to him slowly and kissed him ever so gently.
The moment our lips touched, I reached for him, and instead of pushing me away, he wrapped his arms around me and pulled me to him. I sat down on his lap and draped my legs across his. I took his face in my hands and kissed him again and again. Every time he tried to struggle or say that we shouldn’t be doing this, I erased those words with a kiss.
I felt his manhood pressing against me, begging for release and the same relief that I was begging for myself. I ground into him, sending a cry from his lips. He tightened his grip around me, stood up, and backed me up against the wall.
“Please, don’t stop,” my voice was barely a whisper as I was afraid anything more forceful would snap him out of this wonderful trance.
“Nothing can stop me now.” He shoved his tongue in my mouth and his large, strong hand up my thigh. My legs quivered, and I was thankful that he was holding me up because I wasn’t able to stand after that. “I want you so bad.”
“Then take me. Right now.” Not waiting for an answer, I snatched at his belt, feeling the tip of his cock throbbing against the constraint.
“We shouldn’t be doing this.” He let go of me, and I slid down the wall.
“Shut up.” I unzipped his pants and fell to my knees. Swatting his hands away, I took him into my mouth.
He resisted for a moment, then the rhythm took over. Soon, he was shoving himself so deep that my head hit the wall. “Oh shit.” Martin picked me up again and laid me on the kitchen table, not even wasting the time to push the card game out of the way. “I’m so sorry.”
“Just shut up and fuck me.” I pulled him on top of me, and we kissed with so much force that I was sure we would become one.
He tore open the shirt that I was wearing, and buttons popped and clanked on the floor. He took my left breast into his mouth and flicked my nipple, softly at first. I grabbed his head and pulled him closer. As I was engulfed in the pleasure of his tongue on my nipple, I felt my underwear shoved to the side and a finger plunge inside me. I screamed and bucked my hips.
I heard a loud, banging sound, which I ignored at first, attributing it to the table scooting across the floor. But there it was again, louder this time.
“Go away!” I yelled at Cruz.
25
Martin
Dammit, Cruz!” I yelled as I was reluctantly pulling myself off of Vanessa.
“Don’t you dare answer that.” She tugged at my shirt. “Go the fuck away!” Vanessa yelled as loud as she could toward the front door.
I pulled away from her, kissed her on the forehead, and attempted to shove myself back into my pants. He did not want to obey.
A voice that didn’t belong to Cruz yelled back, “Is that anyway to talk to company?”
The hairs on the back of my neck stood up, and I ran to the front door. I motioned for Vanessa to run to the back room just as I reached the door. I heard a cracking noise as splinters flew at my face.
“I’m armed!” My gun already in my hand, I steadied it.
“So are we.” That one, I did recognize. It was the bald goon from the nursing home. Just as the realization hit me, so did the butt of a gun.
When I came to, the smaller of the goons was holding me down, the other was standing over Vanessa, who was tied into my kitchen chair. Another man, tall and wide with thick, black hair and a massive cloud of cologne around him, who could only be Antony Amara Junior, stood between me and Vanessa. I could barely see her, but from what I could see, she had a red mark across her face as if she had been slapped by a massive hand.
“Don’t you hurt her!” I tried to get up, but the goon pushed me back to the floor, and I felt my head throb. I reached up, and blood wet my fingertips. “I mean it!”
“Shut him up,” Amara ordered the man standing beside me.
Amara held a phone to Vanessa’s face, and I heard her saying something to her father about demands. Tears streamed down her face, and each one tore at my heart a little more. I had failed.
“Tell him that he will give me half of the business, and in exchange, I will let you live. Remind him that if he had taken this deal six months ago, maybe your dear, sweet mother would have fared better.” Amara took a hand and swept a strand of hair back from Vanessa’s cheek.
Vanessa looked down at me on the floor, her eyes pleading, and I summoned the strength to act. I signaled for her to hold on tight and kicked the legs out from under the man who was holding me down. Almost instantly, the bald one who stood over Vanessa ran at me at full speed.
I used his momentum to flip him over my head. I heard his body slam against what remained of my door, and the air come out of him with a loud “Oompf!”
Before Amara had time to react, I tackled him to the ground and punched him as hard as I could across the bridge of his nose. I saw his hand go to his pocket, and I punched him again. I removed a small
semi-automatic from his pocket and threw it across the room.
I tore at Vanessa’s constraints, trying to untie her and comfort her at the same time. The tears had stopped, and she stared straight ahead as if in shock. Her eyes widened, and I was hit from behind.
The largest goon picked me up as if I weighed nothing and slammed me on the card table, where moments earlier, Vanessa and I had finally given in to our emotions. Through the pounding in my head viewing the fear on her face, that now seemed so long ago.
From behind me, I heard a slap and then a whimper from Vanessa. I turned to see Amara with his hand raised in the air to commit the foul act again. I kneed the goon on top of me in the groin, and he crumpled to the floor.
Without even thinking, I lunged through the air and landed on top of Amara before he had a chance to strike Vanessa again. I could hear Marco’s voice from somewhere, yelling through the phone that had gotten dropped and the confusion. He was screaming for me to take care of his little girl.
I heard the distinctive click of a hammer pulling back on a handgun. I picked up Vanessa, chair and all, and threw us out my balcony door. I must have misjudged the amount of adrenaline in my muscles because we did not land on my balcony as I had planned or expected. Instead, we tumbled over the balcony wall, down the three stories, and landed with a deafening thud.
Amara and both of his men appeared in the shattered doorway, their weapons drawn. Still using my body to shield Vanessa, who lay unconscious and hopefully still alive beneath me, I returned fire. I heard a scream, and then another. I didn’t know who was hit, but all three faces disappeared.
“Are you okay?” I patted Vanessa and shook her to wake her. She groaned, and it was the best sound I’d ever heard. “Can you stand up?”
“What happened? Did we just—“ Vanessa stuttered.
“That didn’t go as planned.” We stood up and took stock of our injuries. “I thought I had time to spin around so you would land on top of me. I’m so sorry.” I hugged her tightly to me, not wanting to let go.
“At least we broke the chair.” She attempted a laugh as she pulled the ropes from around her wrists. “I’m free. Let’s get out of here.”
“Good idea. I don’t know what’s going on up there, and I don’t want to stay and find out.”
As we ran off as fast as we could, I felt my shirt become damp. Vanessa, who had her arms around me, felt it, too. “You’ve been shot!”
26
Vanessa
We need to get you to a hospital.” I pulled Martin along, trying to find somewhere safe for us to sit.
“I don’t think I’ve been shot; I think it’s just from the glass. I tried to take the brunt of it.” His voice faded as if he was going to pass out. “Let’s just find shelter for now. We need to call your father.”
There was a diner not far from Martin’s condo that I recognized from the bags of food that Cruz had brought over. The place looked nearly deserted, but a neon green signs said that they were open. We found a quiet booth far in the back and ordered coffee. While Martin patted himself down with napkins to stop the bleeding, I called Daddy’s private line.
Ophelia answered, and I nearly hung up the phone. But the panic in her voice stopped me. “Oh dear, Vanessa, we’ve been so worried. Are you guys okay?” Ophelia cried into the phone.
“Where’s my father?”
Daddy got on the phone and could barely contain himself or get any words out, so Ophelia took the phone back. “What do you need? Please, let me help you.”
“We need to get out of town. There’s nowhere to hide.” I looked at Martin, and he was pale, slumping over in the seat in a very unnatural position. Fear shot through me because I thought he was dead, but then he smiled at me, and I exhaled.
“I can get you some money. You just stay safe for a day or so, and we will have it ready.”
“I don’t know where we can go. They have found us everywhere.” I felt myself breaking down, and I bit my lip. There was no way that I would cry to Ophelia.
Martin stirred in his seat. “How much cash do you have on you? I think I have fifty dollars.”
I patted myself down, but I was only wearing one of Martin’s oversized work shirts. I had nothing on under it. I shook my head.
“I’m sure we can find something around here for fifty bucks. Tell them to hurry up and wire some money so we can get the hell out of Dodge.”
“Hey! Hey! You get the hell out of here. I don’t need any trouble from you.” A large man, probably the owner of the diner, came running from behind the counter, waving a spatula at us. “I know you! I know who you are!” He stared right at me.
“Let’s get out of here.” Martin stood and pushed me toward the door.
The fat man chased us, still yelling, “I don’t want none of your kind at my restaurant. I run an honest establishment. You tell La Familia that Vito’s is off limits!”
I wanted to turn around and yell back that I was not part of the La Familia. Anger coursed through me. His outburst only deepened my resolve to leave this blasted town once and for all, get out of here and start a new life away from Daddy and Ophelia and this messed-up life that he’d thrust upon me. Martin yanked my arm and pulled me out the door. The expression on his face reminded me that now was not the time or place.
Martin and I ran down a back alley and hid behind some trash cans, watching for Antony and his men. After about ten minutes, it was clear that we hadn’t been found. That old man’s scene hadn’t attracted any attention. We both breathed a sigh of relief, neither of us prepared for another run-in with Amara and his men.
“I think the coast is clear,” Martin whispered. “You ready?”
We continued down the alley and eventually came across a beat-up looking motel with a flickering vacancy sign. “You can’t be serious?” I asked him. It looked like something out of a horror movie. What paint there was had flaked off in large patches across the awning. The name wasn’t even visible anymore. I squeezed Martin’s hand, hesitant, not wanting to take one step closer.
“I know you aren’t from this side of the tracks, but fifty dollars doesn’t get much of anything these days.” Martin tried to give me a reassuring smile as he opened the creaking, dusty door to the hotel, but it was masked in the pain that I could still see across his features and my own worries. This wasn’t going to be good.
As we entered the hotel to pay, Martin’s phone buzzed. He looked at the caller ID and swiped his finger across the screen to ignore the call.
As much as neither one of us wanted to climb any stairs or be anywhere other than the nice safe ground, Martin asked for a room on the second floor. He said it was still safer than a ground floor room, so we braced ourselves and took the steps at the side of the building very slowly.
I watched Martin as I climbed; his eyes never rested on one place for more than a second. He was on high alert as we turned the corner and found room 212. He placed a finger over his mouth in a quieting motion and told me to stay put as he picked out the room. I began to say that there is no way Amara knew where we were, but I really didn’t even believe that myself at this point. He seemed to know every move we made two steps before we made it.
Obediently, I stood outside the door and waited for Martin to secure the room. I thought about how happy I would normally be at him suggesting we get a room. Although I knew that neither one of us were in any shape to fulfill a promise like that, I still chuckled at the irony. Then again, at myself for wanting him, even after what we’d just been through.
Then, a wave of fear and guilt washed over me. Here I was thinking about sex when we’d almost been killed. Daddy was in such a state. Martin was hurt. The weight of it all crashed down on me, and I began to cry, staring over the railing of a dingy motel and waiting for Martin to let me in.
27
Martin
I was so relieved to see two beds when I opened the hotel room door. Things had gotten way out of hand at my condo, and I’d lost control of myself.
I couldn’t risk something like that happening again, especially in our current vulnerable states.
When Vanessa pushed past me and flopped onto the farthest bed, I took that as a good sign. She was as exhausted as I was. But then I heard it. The faint sniffling sound of someone trying to muffle a cry. I quickly locked the door and went to her.
“What’s wrong? Everything will be fine. Let’s just clean up a bit and you’ll feel better.” I rubbed her back as one would a child’s, careful to stay on top of her clothing. “I think mine’s just a graze. Once it’s bandaged…”
“Oh, Martin, we could have died!” Vanessa sobbed into the pillow.
“No, no. I would never let anything happen to you. You have to know that.”
“I do.” She turned to me, her eyes red and swollen but shining with a fierceness I’d never seen before. “I know you’d never let anything happen to me. But what if something happens to you?” She turned completely on her side and wrapped herself around me, almost in a fetal position.
“I’m made of steel, Ms. Genovese. Gonna take more than a 9mm to take me down, especially the way they were aiming!”
Vanessa slapped me and looked up. “Ms. Genovese? Really? We’re back to that again?”
I shifted on my section of her bed, raising my hand from her back. “Well. I, uh…”
“Forget it,” she grumbled, turning away from me. “I’d like to be alone now, Mr. Martin.”
“Max,” I said, getting up as ordered.
Vanessa popped up, smiling through her tears. “Max! Really?” She clapped her hands together once and held them in front of her chest.
