by Gabby Grace
I stand up and start heading toward the kitchen. “Bella! Bella!”
The sound of pans moving about forces my gun hand into alert mode, as I move toward the noise on the other side of the kitchen island. A door swings open toward me, a woman’s hand sticking out the top, grasping onto the counter. Then a form appears, and that hair, and those lips, tears streaming down her fucking gorgeous face.
“Vito?” Her voice is high-pitched, a smile crosses her lips as she jumps to her feet and comes racing to me. She throws both arms around my neck, her soaked cheek connecting with mine. I pull away so I can see her face, tucking my gun in my belt, and then my hands frame her face, resting on her cheeks.
Without hesitation, our lips crash and we kiss passionately, her desperate lips meeting mine, trembling and ready. I pull back again, my hands on her shoulders. “Are you okay?”
“Yes. I’m alright.” That’s my girl.
“Frankie needs our help.” Without hesitation, I grab her hand and pull her along with me, grabbing some dish towels on the way out of the kitchen, and in seconds we’re kneeling by Frankie. I take the kitchen towels and fold them, placing them directly on the ugly bullet wound in his shoulder.
“Lean your body into this, Bella… lots of pressure. I’ll get us some wheels.” She does as I say, my brave Bella doing what needs to be done, and I have to look at her again to be sure that she’s really alive. The feeling of relief that washes over me rocks me to my core, as I’ve never felt this way about any woman. Until the moment she crawled out of that cabinet, I thought I would be fine dying today if she didn’t make it herself. It was the thought of her that drove me forward, knowing that the more bad guys I killed, the better her chance of survival.
No time to waste. On the way to the front door, I see the prostrate body of the guy who was the driver in my vehicle on the way over. I reach for the keys in the inside pocket of his jacket, now filled with his own blood courtesy of Valentino and his dueling, pearl-handled handguns. Got them.
_____
Fifteen minutes after I grabbed those keys, I’m pulling up to an emergency room, helping Frankie through the sliding doors, my arm around his waist, his good arm around my shoulder. I lower him into a wheelchair sitting by the door. “Don’t be a pussy, Frankie.”
“Fuck you, Vito, and thanks.” He reaches for my shoulder with his good arm.
I push him in through the next set of double doors, releasing the handles a bit to let the chair roll out in the middle of the floor. Then, when I know he’s been spotted by a maintenance man making his rounds and see the man make a move toward him, I bolt out. The man may have seen my back but not my face. I sprint back out to the waiting car and Bella, shift the car into gear, and drive off into the night.
“Are you sure we can’t go in with him, Vito?”
“He’ll get taken care of. I’ll come visit him in a few days.”
“Will he make it?”
“Yeah, he’ll make it. Shoulder wounds aren’t as bad as getting hit in the stomach or the chest. There’s nothing vital there.”
“How are you, Bella, really?”
“I’m fucked up, Vito. This is… it’s… it’s too much for me to handle.”
“Just relax, Bella. Close your eyes and breathe deep. We’re going to ditch this car in Miami, then we’ll get a cab back to your place.”
“My place? I can’t go back there, Vito… I can’t.”
I’m pretty sure we killed pretty much Sirico’s entire gang, but we should probably play it safe. “All right. We’ll get a hotel.”
We drove in silence for maybe twenty minutes before I found a place to ditch the car in a Walmart parking lot, taking a minute to wipe off all our prints, and then we walked hand-in-hand the five blocks or so to a Marriott we saw on the way in. We were silent because she wanted it that way. I can’t even begin to understand what is going through her head right now.
The last time I saw her, really saw her, was at her mom’s house when everything was feeling so fucking good with us. Now she’s seen – lived – the darkness in my life. It can’t be easy for her right now.
Question is, can she move past it?
65
Bella
What happened that day is forever imprinted on my memory. So many times I wanted to go back in time and move the chess pieces around a bit to see if the path to where I am right now could have been any different.
I don’t know. It hasn’t been a straight road, or even a smooth one, but at least I made it. Despite all the bad odds and near-death experiences, I’m still on my feet, chin up, and moving forward in my life.
It’s funny to think back on this journey over the last couple years of my life. Only a bit over a year and a half ago, I walked down the aisle feeling dread at marrying someone who didn’t feel right, so I turned and walked away, only to walk out the door and into my new life.
It changed everything. I would never had accepted Vito’s advances on the plane had I been a married woman. I take marriage vows seriously. I was open, though, and I knew he was dangerous from the first moment I saw him. I still wanted him in a way that a desperate soul needs something and will do anything to achieve that end.
It was a need I felt for him. It’s why I stuck around despite all the violence and dangerous situations he put me in. He never wanted me to know the life he led. It’s why he lied to me. I just had to dig for the truth. It’s in my nature.
Looking back, I can’t believe I survived, but there’s nothing left to do but move on. To make some really good memories, and replace the really bad ones that haunt my dreams from time to time.
I will move towards light because in the end, that’s all there is for me.
Light. Hope. Love.
I left my job for something that I’ve always wanted to do. Paint. I dabbled as a child and had some pretty serious talent, at least according to my art teacher in high school. Of course I was stubborn and didn’t listen. I’m working at being less stubborn, and I know I’ll never kick the habit altogether.
It was part of an art therapy program I enrolled myself in a few months ago when I felt I was losing my grip a little. Led by a therapist, I was encouraged to draw or paint to get my feelings out, as a channel and a way to communicate my innermost feelings, both good and bad. Two weeks in, I left the sessions and continued on my own, finding art as a means to heal.
Now I’m making some money on the side selling some paintings, using my event planning contacts to get the word out. It’s been fun, and since I’m not keeping everything all bottled up inside, I feel the hope and promise of the future spread out before me like a golden pathway to what I know will be a great life ahead.
I had to make a tough decision to get here, to this place of peace. I sat on beaches for countless hours, staring out over the ocean, and thinking back over what transpired between Vito and I. Would I get hung up with what happened, or could I move forward with Vito toward the light?
First, I thought hard on that beautiful night together with mi familia at my mama’s house. And then later, when we were together on the beach and he said something to me. When we were stepping into the water naked together and I was scared of being separated from him in the cold dark water, he reached for my hand and said, “Don’t worry, I got a good hold of you and I’ll never let you go.”
That’s the Vito I fell in love with. The Vito hamming it up with my family and hugging my mom even when it made him uncomfortable. The Vito that took my hand when I was afraid, and said he’d never let me go. Simply put, it’s the version of Vito I choose to see.
“Are you ready, Vito?”
“You know it.” He sweeps me into him, my legs spread slightly around his hip, it’s like a dirty dance move.
“Later, Vito.” I push him back, like a dog away from his bone. Full well knowing he’ll be back in a minute to try again.
“We don’t want to be late for Mama’s party.”
We exit
through the sliding glass door of our new beach house rental, funded with some money Vito had put away, as well as some of my savings. It’s our new shot at life, and what better place to heal than on the beach.
It’s a one-mile walk along the sand to get to my mama’s house, barefoot and with my man, nothing could be more relaxing, or feel more right.
I did forgive Vito. Not to his face, but in my mind and heart. He feels bad about putting me in danger. I can see it. I know it. He’s willing to move past it, and all he’s done since has been for my benefit, and to keep me happy.
66
Vito
In the end, when the dust settled and everything quieted down again, my thoughts reverted to my little brother Carlo. For a long time, I was haunted by his memory, but now everything has changed. Young and carefree is the way I want to remember him… his tussled hair, his wide curious eyes and that genuine smile that still brings me happiness, twelve years after I lost him.
He was the perfect little brother and I miss him. He’s still my shadow. His memory is still with me now, and it’s stronger than ever. People don’t ever truly die if you keep their memory alive.
I tip my head back, looking up toward the sky, and close my eyes. Since you died, I’ve fought for you, little brother. I’ve fought, and I’ve fought, and I don’t want to fight anymore. I want to live a good life filled with peace and good things. I choose love.
So, I left the violence behind. I had to. I did it to honor Carlo. And I did it for myself, for my sanity, and for Bella.
And Frankie? Thank fuck he’s recovering, but it’ll be a while and he could easily be dead right now. I don’t know if I could have dealt with it if Frankie went the other way with this. I visit him every day and we have our laughs, playing five car stud, and sneaking in whiskey, sharing a bottle together. What can I say? Frankie’s my brother in so many ways, and I’ll never forget the epic explosion that took Sirico’s house down. That distraction that created confusion and mayhem gave us the advantage we needed to come out on top.
Valentino did whatever kind of evil shit he had planned with Don Sirico. I never asked what happened that day after I left, and I didn’t want to fucking know. I know one thing for sure: Sirico definitely died a horrible fucking death. Valentino left for Italy a few days ago, but not before we had a drink and celebrated our victory together. We drank to Lucenzo and his avenged death, our common link in all this.
The two of us will always have that one thing in common. We both know the grief of losing a brother, and the responsibility that goes with avenging his death, or at least doing something big, so that he didn’t die in vain, that it held purpose, meant something. I've avenged Carlo's death in so many ways, and I'm glad Valentino got the closure both he and his family needed.
He’s a guy I’ll never forget. If there was the word killing machine in the dictionary, his face would be put right next to it. I’m just glad he was on my side. Valentino’s a guy I’ll always respect, and one day he will run his family with honor. I can say I fought side by side with him like we were brothers.
The operation at the warehouse fell apart a few days later, without the leadership from the family heads. I got word to Don Tortelli, and he sent his men in to take out the remaining garbage over at the warehouse. This is his territory, and we’d already done most of the heavy lifting.
Don Antolini and me are square. I accomplished my mission down here and he understands I want out. It was a tough call for him. Guys don’t just get out. There’s shit I know that puts the family at risk. In the end, he knows I’m no rat, though.
Final decision. He put me on light detail. I’m the eyes and ears of the Antolini crime family in Miami, and when important family members or allies come down and things feel tense, I get assigned to guard duty. It still keeps me in the game, but it’s a nice change from going into a hot situation with guns blazing. It pays me well enough that I only have to work a day or two each week. I can live with this set-up and Bella’s gotten used to it, too.
What we do have is time together. Some days, we fuck half the morning, then lay out on the beach catching rays all afternoon. I joke that it’s what I came down here for in the first place, and it’s what I ended up doing.
Walking down the beach with Bella, a thought crosses my mind. “So, we have a few minutes before your mom’s house?”
“God, Vito? Do you want to do it 24/7?”
“You know I’m one hundred percent going to fuck you hard and deep right here and right now.”
“So romantic, Vito,” she says, her voice laced with sarcasm.
“I’ll give you romance when we have time for it. Right now, we’re going to stop and take care of business. We won’t always be so young and good-looking.”
“What’s that supposed to mean? Are you thinking long-term about us, Vito?”
“Maybe… if I don’t get bored first.” My eyebrow goes up and Bella knows I’ve thrown the gauntlet down.
“That’s it, Vito. Get those clothes off now.”
We move into an area that’s high with beach grasses, nestled between two small dunes and hidden enough for our tastes. We both strip down, completely naked, knowing we don’t a have a lot of time.
My hand goes to her waist and that sexy curve that shoots out toward her hip. Her skin is so smooth and deep olive now with all the sun we’ve been getting. She looks like a Colombian goddess with her dark hair flowing down around her shoulders, a few thick strands tied back around each temple to keep it at bay and out of her face.
Her hand goes right for my cock. It feels familiar now, her hands on me. Comfortable and familiar. But definitely not boring. Bella and I are always pushing the limits of our sessions, with new positions, an extra flit here, or some extra time spent there.
She adds her lips, her tongue working its magic on my member, free and unrestrained, and bouncing a bit to meet her tongue. She works the tip while stroking the shaft, her warm hot saliva feels good on my length. I lean back and take in the thick puffy white clouds moving in overhead, the sand feeling good against my back.
Bella lifts her beautiful body up, so I can see all of her. I crane my neck a bit to take her in. Her hands on her hips, they trail up her body, touching herself so close to her pussy, before sliding up her flat stomach toward her perky tits.
She is so fucking beautiful, and I’ll never get tired of looking at her. Her dark eyes, seductive and flirting, and that sweet smile that warms me up inside.
Her nipples, fully rigid now, pop between her massaging fingers, then bounce a bit when she releases them. Her body is covered by dark shadows with the sun being blocked and at her back. I know we don’t have a lot of time. I also know I promised to fuck her hard and deep.
So, I take over.
67
Bella
With one strong arm, he pulls me down and flips me over onto my back without any effort at all. I’m wet for him already. My body just knows. Having already felt the exotic pleasures I’ve experienced with Vito, it primes itself as soon as our clothes drop off, knowing what is coming.
As much as I prepare myself to take his massive cock, it always surprises me going in. It feels like my walls are expanding, stretching to capacity. It still feels tight, but oh, so good when he enters me slow. So I can feel him. All of him.
Instinctually, my fingers go to my clit and rub a bit in eager anticipation of him filling me completely. Vito doesn’t disappoint as he grasps his shaft and guides it toward me. I spread wider for him, and he teases me with just the tip first, inserting then withdrawing it a few times, before impaling me. Then he thrusts into me slowly, rhythmically, until every nerve ending hits instant hyper-drive.
I can feel things deep inside me, and my skin tingles. Vito is affecting all of me: my senses, my body, my mind, and my soul. With a swivel of his hips, and plunging deep, buried as far as he can go, his breath hot in my ear, and his tongue on my neck, he takes me to another world.
This is meant to be, Vito and me. It’s clear now. Through all we’ve been through, and it’s been a lot, we are stronger together. He is my rock and I am his pillow, softening him a bit, but not too much. I like him hard and ready. Ready for anything, my fierce protector. I can lean on him. He’s so strong, and I know now, he will do anything to take care of me, to keep me safe, to make sure I want for nothing.
I need him now more than ever. And here he is, taking care of things, and paying visits to my mama. They have grown quite fond of each other with a deep, mutual respect.
Right now, I want to bring my senses and my mind back to his hard fucking, his cock going so deep, and hitting so many of my spots that I don’t know if I can handle the next thrust.
Our breath is quickening, in perfect sync – we often come together – but it doesn’t matter as long as we both get our sweet release. I can feel the build-up inside, like something meaningful rising up inside me, an orgasm with a purpose. To remind me of what is pure and beautiful in this world that can turn on a dime and be so hard and rear its ugly head, I must enjoy these moments fully and embrace them.
This is life. We are life. And despite our history, our lives will go on. We’ve survived the bad and now we’re fully open to the good. It feels hard-fought and worth it to have reached this place. Together.
Nothing can break us now. Nothing. We are too strong, too connected to ever lose sight of each other and we understand the importance of breathing in all that’s good in life, and feeling its magical power. We are immune to the mundane, and will never walk through life in a stupor, unappreciative of its gifts. We have faced death together, and now, we can celebrate life fully in a way we couldn’t have done otherwise.
He is so deep, his pulsating cock expanding and contracting, my pussy muscles tightening on him, creating varying levels of friction and pleasure. His palms are embedded in the sand, his massive shoulders, so broad and strong, supporting his weight, and helping drive his muscled body, deeper, and harder into me. The sweat of his brow is falling onto me. I lick the saltiness of it off my lips, tasting him. The pressure is so strong, his breathing is quickening, I can tell when he’s close now.
