by DD Prince
It was taking all I had, resisting the strong urge to go home and play the part of Thomas Ferrano Jr., status quo, making sure everyone knew that I was not to be fucked with any more than Tom Ferrano Sr. was to be fucked with.
Because I had the feeling that if that’s what I did, I’d become him. She’d hate me. I’d hate me.
Tia
We’d eaten a gourmet meal (after Tommy interrogated both the waiter and then the manager to ensure my food would have zero exposure to shellfish. It felt so nice to be protected like this), and then the band started.
I was watching couples dance, listening to reggae music, a singer that was almost a dead ringer in style and voice for Shaggy, and I wanted to dance, but got shut down.
“Oh c’mon, Mista lova lova…” I’d tried, thinking calling Tommy the Shaggy pet name was cute.
I don’t think he knew what I was talking about. Or worse, he did, and pretended he didn’t because he was annoyed with me.
I wanted to dance. I wanted to have fun.
This was why I’d picked this restaurant. The outdoor patio. The décor. The band. The reviews about the great vibe. It was a place for more than dinner. It was a place for an evening out. A date night.
He tried to ask for the bill when the server offered a dessert menu, stating we’d get room service back at our hotel if I wanted something sweet.
I had opened my mouth, about to protest, but froze, open-mouthed with a shrug and a disappointed expression, meaning he rolled his eyes and cut me off before I could speak.
“Forget the bill for now,” he told the waiter. “Bring her a dessert menu.”
“I think I’d just like a cocktail. Something fruity with an umbrella,” I said to the waiter. “Surprise me?”
He gave me a beaming smile. “Absolutely. Sir?” he asked Tommy.
“Jameson. Double,” Tommy replied.
The server gave him a professional head tip and went away.
I opened my mouth to say something, but Tommy’s expression cut my air off. His expression warned me to resist the urge to push my luck. He wasn’t making us leave yet, so I slunk in my seat, deciding to give him a minute. His eyes went to the water off to the left. My eyes went to the band, off to the right.
We hadn’t spoken when the waiter returned with our drinks.
We hadn’t spoken until I was half way into my pineapple-flavored alcohol slushy cocktail. His eyes had moved to watching the band. I was watching people on the dancefloor. Some of them damn good, with their moves. Some of them not so much, but looking like they were having fun. Dancing like no one was watching. Like I wanted to do…
He reached for my hand and squeezed it.
My eyes met his.
“We’ll go to that park tomorrow, if you want,” he finally said. “Check out a beach?”
It startled me, but I felt my face split into a beaming smile.
The band began to play Bob Marley’s No Woman No Cry and Tommy squeezed my hand and pulled me to standing, then led me to the dance floor.
I smiled through the whole song, taking in paradise around us, his strong arms wound around me. Twinkling stars. Water lapping at the sandy shore. Beautiful music. The alcohol in my blood making me feel warm and tingly.
When the song was over, he whispered in my ear, “Can we go?”
I nodded.
***
When we got back to our villa, he used the phone to call and talk to his brother. He was on so long, I fell asleep.
I was woken in the dead of night with him thrashing around in his sleep.
I put my hand to his chest, caressing where I knew, despite the dark, was the still semi-fresh tattoo of my name with my palm, and he let out a feral sound, a tortured sound of pain. I flicked the lamp on.
“Tommy?” I cupped his jaw. His eyes flew open. He looked bewildered, like he didn’t know where he was. He blinked twice at me, and then I guess I and the surroundings came into focus.
He grabbed for me, flipped me, and was then on top of me, hovering over me and tearing at the t-shirt of his that I wore.
He was frantic in his efforts to get me naked. I tried to help get the t-shirt off, but my arms got pinned.
“Don’t move,” he ordered, his voice gruff.
My panties got ripped down and then he was burying himself in me.
My body was totally unprepared, so it hurt like heck.
He kissed me like he was starving for me.
As his hands moved over my body reverently, my body adjusted, the pain transcending to something else, something good. Something--- for him. I had it to give and wanted to give it.
The light was still on, so I watched as he stared determinedly, directly into my eyes, with a look that would’ve frightened me if I hadn’t already spent this past few months with him, learning those expressions, knowing that this was fiercely possessive emotion he was feeling.
Whatever he had dreamt about had made him afraid and this was some sort of affirmation right here that it’d been just a dream. We were alive and together and he was going to revel in it.
I surrendered to a massive orgasm and got a second one as he chased his own.
“I love you,” I whispered and ran my fingers through his hair until he stopped me by grabbing my hand and putting my knuckles to his mouth, planting a tender kiss there.
“Was I too rough?” he asked.
I nodded. “A little. But, it’s okay.”
He kissed me again. “You’re perfect,” he whispered against my mouth, tenderly touching his lips to mine.
I was far from perfect, but really liked that he felt like I was perfect for him.
“What was your dream about?” I asked.
“Don’t.” His body stiffened. He turned out the lamp.
I gulped, and then whisper-sang, “Everything’s gonna be alright, everything’s gonna be alright.” Mimicking the song we’d danced to. I sang poorly, I had a terrible singing voice, but it still earned me an affectionate cuddle from him.
“Love you so much, baby girl.” He put his lips to my temple. “Be right back.”
I cuddled up to his pillow and closed my eyes. I heard the toilet flush and then the shower was running. It was only running for about a minute, when I was dosing off, slipping into dreamland, but then he came back in, in just a towel, and flicked the lamp back on. I squinted. He reached into the dresser and pulled out some boxer briefs and got them on. “You get your period, baby?”
“Hm?”
“Blood on me.”
“Oh!” I jumped up and rushed to the bathroom. I wasn’t due but it hurt a little when I peed and there was a bit of blood on the toilet tissue. When I came back out I said, “I think it was just, uh… a little rough.” I climbed in bed beside him.
He looked disgusted. “I made you bleed.”
I shrugged. “It was a little rough. I’m okay, though.”
“I hurt you.” He was angry.
“I’m okay. I’ll be right as rain in the morning.”
He looked angrier.
I cuddled in. “It’s okay. I was just unprepared. I’m okay, Tommy. Really. It’s not the first time. It’s probably just the first time you noticed.” I turned the lamp off and curled into him.
I fell asleep after a long time of him kissing me, stroking me, apologizing with his affectionate caresses.
It was unnecessary. I was only too happy to be who he reached for in the middle of a bad dream, that I brought him comfort was important to me, even if it was a bit rough sometimes.
Aruba - Four Days Later
Tommy
I was ready to rip this bonehead goof’s head off. He was shamelessly flirting with her and oblivious to my anger about it. Why? Because I’d been laughing and joking with her when we arrived and that made me seem…what… weak?
I’d had about e-fucking-nough of people. We took a tour of an eco-park and then we went snorkeling. Yeah, it was cool and it was nice to see her enjoy herself, but there were too many people around fo
r my liking. Despite that, I dealt.
Two days of tourist shit and losing count of how many beaches we went to. She didn’t moan when I said I wanted a day of R&R at the resort the day before. She swam, read a book, and worked on her tan while I did some work for Ferrano Enterprises on her laptop to lighten some of Dare’s load.
He contacted me via video call to tell me to stop, but I wasn’t accustomed to so much down time.
“This is supposed to be a vacation, bro,” Dare teased on screen.
“We’re here a few more days and then we’re heading to the next spot to meet up with all of you for the wedding. Guessin’ you’re probably slammed gettin’ ready to go, so I’m just lending a hand.”
He shook his head but smiled on the screen. “I get it. You’re not used to it, but I got this. Got loads of help with this consulting firm. Our top-level people, too. Then, you’ve got your honeymoon and the rest of your life. You don’t need to even think about this shit right now. You really wanna think about it, we’ll talk a few weeks after the wedding.”
The rest of my life. What the fuck was I gonna do with the rest of my life?
Pop had us so busy, doing so many things, both legit and shady, that I was a man used to working daily. Between work, working out, and playtime at the club (before I met Tia) I never sat idle.
Now, I was idle without a dozen irons in various fires and with no idea what to do with myself. And to top it all off, my head was filled with shit. Work would’ve let me bury it. Idle time just let it fester and torment me.
I didn’t even have a gym here. Yeah, the resort had one, but I didn’t want to work out around other people. Leave Tia alone and unguarded in our villa? Fuck, no. No outlets for me but fucking, and I didn’t wanna hurt her, was pissed at myself for making her bleed the other night. I was feeling unhinged and didn’t trust myself not to take it too far with her. So, I swam and fucked carefully, and I was ready to use this fuckhead that had his beady little eyes on her tits as a punching bag.
Today, we were gonna spend the rest of the day at a public beach she’d heard was in the top five on the island. I was trying to make this trip good for her, and based on what I felt like right now, I was anxious to get out of this vacation mode. It wasn’t for me. Not like this, anyway.
I grabbed Tia’s hand and glared at the guy who was talking to her. His wife was playing in the water with their two kids.
“Baby, let’s go,” I said, cutting the guy off.
Her expression dropped. We’d only been here not even an hour.
“Go?” she parroted.
“Got a surprise for you,” I teased and kissed her knuckles.
Her eyes lit up.
“It was nice to meet you,” Tia said, getting up from the sand.
I grabbed the towel we were sitting on and passed it to her. She shook it out.
“We’re planning to be at the Hilton casino tonight. We’ve got a sitter. Be great to run into you two,” he called over, eyes meeting mine.
“Got somethin’ planned already, man,” I replied and grabbed her hand and tugged.
He blinked in surprise at my obvious brush-off.
No, fucker. I’m not about to suggest an alternative meet-up. Fuckin’ goof.
He and his wife were from Bend. Just because we were from the same state, did that mean we had to make plans together? A lot of people lived in Oregon. Did I need to be friends with all of them? Don’t fucking think so.
He’d introduced himself with his whole name. I’d given him just our first names. He didn’t need to know who I was.
Besides, what if this was a game? What if this was someone who knew who I was, trying to get close and trip me up on something?
I had already planned to rent us a house in Costa Rica that my PI Zack Jacobs hooked me up with. Zack had lived there for a few years so knew the area and still knew people there. I’d decided I’d had my fill of Aruba and we should go there now. Enough of this tourist bullshit, which I clearly wasn’t cut out for.
Costa Rica. The place I rented was in a more remote place with little to do besides be together instead of her trying to drag me all over the goddamn place. A hundred-minute drive to San Jose and only a few basic amenities within a short walk. A place where we’d be anonymous, where I could get a minute to breathe and think about what was next for me. For us.
There was more than just me to worry about here. She was everything to me. Protecting her was my priority. She was also my weakness. Anyone who wanted to hurt me might do it by hurting her. No fucking way. The very notion made my blood begin to boil. I had to be safe so I could make her safe.
I was getting us fake identities so we could be completely off-grid for a bit.
We were not officially on the lam, but I had a bug-out bag accessible for us and the rest of the clan if things went wrong, if Pop’s enemies wanted to move in or if Pop’s friends figured out the truth and decided to take me to task for it.
***
We were back in our cab and on our way to the hotel.
“What’s the surprise?” Tia asked.
“Huh?” I asked absently.
“Why are we going back to the hotel?” she asked.
I shook my head. “Couldn’t stand it. That fuckin’ tourist wouldn’t shut his trap, wouldn’t stop starin’ at your tits. Wanted to rip his fuckin’ head off.”
She hard-blinked.
“H-he was not…”
“He fuckin’ was.”
“Tommy…” She rolled her eyes.
“No. I don’t wanna fuckin’ hear it. Had enough of this public bullshit. Calling about our new place. See if it’s ready. We’ll head there tonight if it is. And don’t roll your fucking eyes at me again.”
I glared out the window. She played with the fringe of the swimsuit coverup she wore.
It wasn’t until we stopped back at our resort that I looked at her face. She was visibly sulking. Well, too fucking bad.
***
The Costa Rica place wasn’t gonna be ready early. They were having it painted in anticipation of our arrival. I’d rented it for a month, not knowing what our long-term plans were, also telling the owner we may be there a few months, and to charge me whatever she felt was fair given I didn’t want her making any future bookings until I told her we were leaving. I was paying a mint for it, so she’d clearly had it in her head to make it so we’d wanna stay longer.
She went on about upgrading it with fresh paint and some additional finishes to make it nice for us and was apologetic that it’d take a few more days. I let it go. Not her fault my schedule had changed. She tried to recommend a bed and breakfast not too far and said she’d hurry the workmen up, but I declined.
So, a few more days in Aruba, sticking to the original schedule, unless I wanted to add a different spot or take our time getting there, staying somewhere else first.
I found Tia in bed, still sulking. She was staring at the television, some chick flick on.
I climbed in. “Looks like a few more days here,” I said. “Unless we wanna take a cruise or head somewhere else.”
She gave me a snotty look and her eyes moved back to the television.
“Got a problem?” I inquired.
Her mouth tightened in annoyance.
“Tia?”
She rolled her eyes.
Tia
He was on his side, propped on his elbow, staring at me.
I kept my eyes on the TV. He didn’t take a hint.
The vacation was supposed to be good for us and he was acting like he hated every minute of it. I knew he couldn’t force himself to have fun and I also knew he was pretending the past few days for me. I could see it in his eyes, the tension, the annoyance, the fact that he was putting up with touristy things for me and doing a shitty job of it, because I knew he hated it. He wasn’t even trying to fake it until he made it. Not that I wanted him to be fake. I wanted him to be okay. And that he wasn’t made me feel guilty for even being here. What could I do? I was in a zero
-win situation.
“You wanna not ignore me?” he demanded.
My eyes met his. “That guy wasn’t flirting with me. He was mostly talking about his wife and kids, about their city and stuff we should do if we ever got there. In fact, he mentioned he sells life insurance three times. He probably just wanted to sell us some.”
His eyes rolled ceiling wards. “If I were talking to some chick about you, my eyes would not be on her tits. And if that fucker and I were anywhere else, I’d have knocked his teeth out for staring at you like that. It’s only because his kids were there that I didn’t make him choke on his own molars. He should fuckin’ up his own life insurance, leave money for his wife to buy a new pair of tits when I put him in the ground.”
“Possessive much?” I snapped.
His brows shot up as he looked at me like I was an idiot.
I moistened my lips. “I’m just not loving the idea of spending the next few days bored sitting around in our room. I figured we could get out and have some fun. Try to get our minds off all the crap, and---”
“Oh right. I’ll just snap my fingers,” he offered and then he snapped them and blinked at his own fingers in fake-astonishment. “Shit, yeah… shoulda done this days ago. Now I’m great. Just fuckin’ peachy.”
My expression dropped. “I’m sorry. That was insensitive of me.”
“Ah. You think?”
This was pointless. He was angry and not the kind of angry I wanted to mess with. Yeah, it’d help him release it, but I wasn’t in the mood to push his buttons and get my ass reddened. For a change.
“I’m sorry, Tommy. I’m going for a bath. To clear my head and my bad attitude. When I come out, I’ll be better. Promise.” I got up and went to the bathroom, like a dog with a tail between its legs.
Five minutes into my soak, he was in the bathroom with me. I’d been reclined. I sat up as he dropped his cream linen shirt, then his khakis, and climbed in, getting behind me and pulling me back so I was now reclined on him. His face was gentle, though. I hadn’t provoked the beast.
He gathered the length of my hair and pulled it over to one shoulder. I leaned over and kissed his forearm and then I burst into big, fat tears.
