by Cin Medley
“No, whatever you choose will be fine.” I managed.
“All right, I’ll be there soon. Suzanne.”
“Yeah,” I whispered.
“It’ll be all right.”
“Okay.”
“I’ll see you in a bit.”
I nodded and he disconnected the call. I dropped my phone on the floor rolling onto my side, I let them come again. I was doing what Al wants me to do. I’ve done so much already, so what the fuck difference does it make. He wants me to get close to him, so I am just doing what needs to be done. I am a professional, so what fucking difference does any of this make?
I closed my eyes, trying to pull the pain back. Trying to get control. I must have fallen asleep again, because the gentle knock on the door woke me, getting up and opening the door, his face said more than I wanted to know. He stepped in sitting the bags on the floor, he pulled me into his arms and held me. I wanted to pull away, but it felt so damn good to be held, and he smelt so fucking good.
“I’m so sorry for doing that. I know what you said about not touching you. Please, don’t cry.”
I shook my head. He thinks this is because of him. Well it is, but it isn’t. I pulled away, “I don’t know what’s the matter with me. I’m going to go and wash my face, come in. I walked down the hall to my bedroom and right into the bathroom. These two rooms are the only rooms that weren’t wired for sound or with camera’s. I washed my face and made sure my wig was on the right way.
Looking at myself, I was presentable. Taking off my jacket, I tossed it on the bed on my way out into the living room. He had all the bags unpacked with everything on the coffee table.
“I got just about everything on the menu,” he said softly as he stood up. A perfect gentleman. Not the deviate, murderous, drug pushing, gun running bastard, I believe him to be.
“Thank you,” I sat down.
He handed me a pair of chopsticks. “Dig in.” He said picking up a container.
“Maybe we should address the elephant in the room first.” I said softly.
Sitting his container down, he said, “You need to eat. You are obviously upset, and if memory serves me right, women tend to not eat when they are upset.”
I chuckled, and nodded. We ate the majority of what he brought over. When we finished he turned to me looking me in the eyes. “You want me to go first?” I nodded. He took a deep breath, “For the past five years I haven’t led a nice life. My brother would call it deviant, in a way I suppose it was. I viewed it as the only way I could survive what happened. I was married, my wife was murdered. I’m afraid I didn’t handle it very well. I went off the deep end, bound and determined to find the bastard, but somewhere I got lost, and until four days ago, I was walking through life, feared, respected and oblivious to those around me. I took what I wanted, when I wanted and I didn’t give a shit about anyone or anything.”
I just sat there in shock looking at him. I could see the pain shoot through his eyes when he said his wife was murdered. “Paul, what happened with your wife?” I was holding my breath terrified at what he would say. Hoping it was the truth. We were being watched and recorded, whatever he says to me will be investigated. I needed to be very careful here.
He chuckled, but it was a humorless chuckle. “She was in the wrong place at the wrong time I suppose. I had gotten involved with some people that I probably shouldn’t have been involved with.” He saw my eyes go wide, shaking his head he said, “I am no longer associated with them. But I was threatened, and because of who I was they knew they couldn’t touch me, not physically anyway. So, I believe they waited for the moment to destroy me the only way they could. We were out celebrating Sylvia finally getting pregnant.” I felt myself take a deep breath, his eyes changed. I saw the pain. “I left her standing in front of the restaurant while I went to get the car. She thought it was silly to wait for me, so she started walking towards the car. It was all so…I don’t know surreal. A man stepped out from the shadows, grabbed her by the hair and slid a knife across her throat.”
I watched as a tear fell from his eye. I wanted to touch him, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it.
“Just as fast as he appeared he disappeared. I thought at first it was just a mugging gone wrong. But as I sat in a state of shock for weeks after, I realized that when he did it, he was looking right at me. It was done on purpose, to send me a message. I heard it loud and clear. I changed in that moment of realization and I became this hard, unfeeling, callus, take what I want man. I used to be proud of who I was. But in the past five years, I am nowhere near finding the bastard who did this.”
He dropped his head, I knew he was crying, and I can only imagine how difficult that was for him to tell me. I figured it was my turn.
“Two years eleven months and twenty-eight days ago, I woke up to a phone call. My other half had been murdered. Everything I had was gone. There is nothing left for me. I’ve been floating through this life trying to find something to ground me to it. I don’t want to be touched because he was the only one who ever touched me. It physically makes me sick.” I lowered my voice, “Today, when you kissed me. I felt it,” I whispered, “so much so, that it can’t ever happen again. I love him, I will always love him. He was the only man that I’ve ever been with.” The tears came and I couldn’t stop them.
“I know just how you feel. All the women I’ve been with have been about self-gratification. I haven’t kissed a woman since my wife. You are the first, and I don’t even know why, but I couldn’t not do it. It changed me. I know it’s not what you want to hear…”
I shook my head, “It changed me. I think that’s why I am in so much turmoil right now. Because I never thought or believed that I could feel like I do, again.”
“I know what you mean. I feel like, life matters again. Suzanne, I’m changing my life. I’m going to do the right thing. If anything, this has taught me that life can be good again. No matter what happens, I wanted to tell you that and to thank you.”
We just sat there not saying anything.
The tears falling silently from my eyes. “Does it get any easier?” I whispered.
“Yes,” he whispered. “I should go. I just needed to tell you. Thank you for listening.”
I nodded and stood up, moving towards the door. I felt his fingers on my arm and I stopped moving. He walked around in front of me. “Suzanne,” he whispered. Picking my head up, he kissed me. It took my breath away. “Thank you.” He said, turning around he walked out the door leaving me standing there.
I leaned against her door when I walked out. I didn’t want to leave. I don’t think I ever want to leave her. But she isn’t ready, she doesn’t want this. Not yet anyway. I have a lot to do, to clean up my life. Just knowing she is here, and doesn’t hate me is enough for now.
Chapter Six
Somehow, I made my way to my room and curled up in a ball on my bed. I don’t know why he makes me feel, or how he can make me feel like this. My mind, body and soul belong to Steven. I want to know if he is happy. I need to know. Picking up my phone I texted the word Art and then erased it. I am going to get some answers. I need to know.
Could the same person who killed his wife be the same person who killed my other half? I need some answers. Sleep came too easily for me. Perhaps all the crying helped. When I woke up I was ready to go. I showered and dressed, headed to the Art Museum. I didn’t bother with Monet. I went straight to the curator’s office. I was led to the room in the basement.
When I walked in there were five men in the room, two I knew, Jacob and Al, the rest were unknown. I didn’t want to know them. I just started talking. “You heard everything that happened, everything he said. Is it true?”
“Yes, as far as we know it is all true.”
“Tell me what you aren’t sure is true.”
“It’s all speculation, Victoria.”
“I don’t give a shit if it’s a wild idea you might have. I need information. How am I supposed to do this if I can�
�t put the pieces of the puzzle together? You came to me when he ended him, I chose to do this to get justice. I have murdered fourteen men who nobody fucking missed. I have changed my name so many times I’m not even sure who the fuck I am anymore. I walked away from my life to make this bastard pay. Now tell me what I want to know, what I need to know or every single one of you can go fuck yourselves. You don’t own me!” I shouted.
“He has his hand in drugs, guns, prostitution and we are pretty sure the sex trade.”
“Paul? Paul Simon? Or is this Marciano.”
“Marciano, Simon, we believe they are one in the same.”
“But you don’t have one shred of evidence to this assumption?”
“No, that is why we want you to get close to him.”
“Yeah, well about that. I am getting closer than I care to. I cannot have a physical relationship with this man.”
One of the men I didn’t know stepped forward. “It may be necessary for you to do just that.”
I snapped my head to look at him, “Like fucking hell it will. I will walk away first. You better do your fucking job, because I am about done with this shit. I haven’t even had time to grieve. I have a fucking life waiting for me on the other end of this mess. A mess I might remind you that you fucking created. You knew this was a suicide job to begin with, yet you sent him in there. That’s on you. I’m not as easy to kill. But this man, this Paul Simon is bringing to the surface, emotions in me that aren’t very healthy. You need to figure this shit out and help me. I’m giving you one month and then I am moving on.”
Another man stepped forward, “Do not think it is acceptable to threaten us.”
I busted out laughing. “Who the fuck are you? No wait, I don’t give a shit who you are. I want the son of a bitch who killed him. If it’s Paul Simon, then give me the fucking proof. What he said to me last night should give you a path to go down. So, get off your lazy ass and go down it. You’ve got twenty-four hours to get me a full report or I’m giving my notice at the company and I’m gone. I’m going home.”
“Miss Holmes, are you in love with him?”
I didn’t even think about what I was doing when my fist connected with his jaw. “I’m in love with my husband. I have been since I was sixteen years old.”
“Victoria,” I turned around to yell at him when Al said. “Steven remarried, he got a divorce. They are expecting a child at the end of summer.”
He could have shot me. I just stood there looking at him. I felt the room tilt, my ears ringing and then nothing. I passed out.
“Jesus fucking Christ. What the hell Al. Did you have to do it like that?” Jacob said.
“Well she needed to know. She needed to know she had nothing to go back to. We need her to finish this.”
“I always knew you were a heartless bastard.”
“Is she all right? She hit her head pretty hard.”
“There’s no blood.”
“Should we take her to the hospital?” One of the unknown men asked.
“You need to tell her everything.” Jacob said.
The one man who didn’t say anything, and stayed in the shadows said, “We can’t tell her everything. She can never know everything. She needs to do this on her own. She needs to find the truth on her own.”
As I was coming to, I heard a voice that was so familiar to me. I swear I was hearing things. My eyes opened and there were four men looking at me. I didn’t say anything, I just sat up, waiting for the nausea to pass and then I got up and left.
I wandered aimlessly around for hours trying to grasp what Al had said. Steven remarried. He is having a baby. Something I could never give him. Something I would never know in this life. The tears fell with no effort on my part. I had no idea where I was or how I got there, but it was getting dark out. Reaching in my purse I dial his number.
“Hello,” he said. I didn’t say anything. “Hello?”
In the back ground, I heard a woman say, “Honey who is it?”
“I don’t know. Hello.”
I fought with everything I had not to talk. I just hung up and buckled over in pain. I managed to dial his number. I’m not even sure how I pulled it from my memory.
“Hello?” He said.
I was crying so bad I could hardly talk. “Please,” was all I could get out.
“Suzanne? Are you all right?”
“No, please.” Was all I could get out. I heard him talking. “Find her. Now.” Then back to me. “I’m on my way. God, are you hurt?”
“Yes…no…” I stuttered out. I heard a car door shut.
“I’ll be there in five minutes. Don’t hang up.” He was yelling at someone. “I don’t fucking care move.” Back to me. “It’s all right. I’m almost there.”
I couldn’t stop sobbing, a scream escaped me and I just let it go. The pain was unmeasurable in my chest. “Oh god,” I cried out.
“I’m here, where are you beautiful? Shit.”
Then I felt his arms around me lifting me up. “I got you. What happened?”
I just put my arms around his neck and let it all go. I couldn’t catch my breath. I felt him put me in the car and then climb in pulling me into his arms. “Take us to Miss Costello house.”
“No!” I screamed. “No!”
“Okay, take us to my house.”
He held onto me, his face buried in my neck, mine in his. I couldn’t stop crying. It was just like the day I left him. I was devastated. Completely unable to form a coherent thought. I felt the car stop and then he got out reaching in he picked me up. Before I knew what was happening he laid on a bed and crawled in with me, pulling me to his side. “I got you.”
I cried myself to sleep. When I woke up I was alone and it was dark out. I jumped up not realizing where I was. He was right next to me. “You’re at my house. Suzanne, what happened to you?”
I shook my head and the tears started all over again. I reached for him pulling myself into his lap. It felt so good to feel his arms around me, to feel his warmth. It’s been so long since I’ve felt this. He’s married. He’s having a child. I couldn’t catch my breath; I was gasping for air.
“Come on, beautiful. Deep breaths, come on. In through your nose, out through your mouth.” I tried to focus on him, following his breathing until I didn’t feel like I was going to suffocate.
What the hell am I doing here? I can’t be this weak, I have to leave.
I started looking around the room like a scared rabbit. He sensed my fear. “Hey,” he said bringing my face to his. “You’re safe here. Can you tell me what happened?”
I felt the tears well up in my eyes, as I shook my head no. How can I tell him? He could very well be the man who did this. I shouldn’t be here. “I’m sorry. I should go. I’m all right.” I went to get up.
“Suzanne, you are far from all right. I picked you up off the ground today. Something happened to you. Did someone hurt you?”
“Yes, but not in the way you’re thinking. In here.” I touched my heart. “I need to go. I can’t be here.”
“Why? What’s wrong with being here? At least you aren’t alone.”
“You’re a very dangerous man,” I said so softly I wasn’t even sure if I said it.
He tilted his head, “Why would you say that?”
“Because you make me feel things. Things I don’t want to feel. I can’t do this. I am unavailable.” Even as I said it I didn’t believe it any longer. He married someone else. The tears started coming again. I pushed away from him and scooted across the bed. Jesus, it was huge. When my feet hit the floor, I moved to the door. He was right behind me.
“If someone hurt you, at least let me take you home. You don’t have to stay here.”
I froze, “I can’t go back there,” I whispered.
He put his hand on my shoulder, “Fuck, did Jacob hurt you?”
I pulled away, “No. Please Paul, I need to not be here. I can’t.”
“Why Suzanne, tell me why.”
I
just stood there. I could feel the heat coming off his body. I could smell him and he smelt like heaven. I needed to feel kindness, to feel tenderness. My hand moved on its own as I reached behind me, touching his fingers. He entwined them, slowly I moved our hands to my hip. With my other hand, I did the same.
I felt him step forward, he still wasn’t touching me. “I feel so alone. So afraid all the time,” I whispered, “I don’t know what is happening to me anymore.”
He bent his head down, I could feel his breath on my shoulder. “I’m right here.”
“You’re not a nice man. I can’t do this with you.”
“Meeting you has made me rethink my life. I told you that.” He whispered, his breath hot.
“I just need to feel…I just need to feel anything but what I feel now.”
“Tell me what you need beautiful.”
I stepped away from him and moved to the bathroom. Shutting the door, I leaned against it. I wanted him. I wanted to feel anything other than this devastation. He could be a murderer. Hell, I’m a murderer. I moved to the sink, looking at myself in the mirror. I couldn’t do this looking like someone else. Reaching up I pulled off the wig. I washed my face. When I opened the door, he was standing a few feet away. His eyes filled with confusion.
“I had cancer, and lost most of my hair.” I lied. It didn’t matter anymore. The lies were so common that I was losing the truth of my life. It just didn’t matter anymore.
He moved to stand in front of me. “You’re still beautiful. If I’m being honest I prefer the red head. It would explain all the fire you have in you.”
I smiled, my hands moved to his waist, pulling his shirt out of his pants, I started to unbutton it. When I got to the last button I looked up at him. I saw him swallow hard, his Adams apple moving slowly on his throat. I pushed up on my toes and kissed it, with an open mouth. I put my hands into his shirt, touching his chest, I heard his intake of air as I slid his shirt off his shoulders.
It fell to the floor, and I stepped back to look at him. He was huge across his chest, “My god, you’re beautiful,” I whispered. And he was. Muscle’s like you see in a magazine, all the way down to the waistband of his slacks. He even had one of those sexy V’s.
