A Chance in the Night

by Kimberly Van Meter

  He eyed her with faint suspicion. She held her breath as more questions built behind his speculative stare. “What are you going to do to him?” she asked, hoping to distract Belleni from his current train of thought.

  Belleni waved away her question. “The details are unnecessary for you to know at this point. Just take me at my word that he will pay for his insult. Now name your desire, my love, and I will see to it personally.”

  She knew he awaited her gratitude but she couldn’t make herself utter the words. He expected her to thank him for taking care of her when he was the one who had set her up with that monster? It was his fault her lip was split and her eye was blackened. Her breasts were marked with bruises from where the man had squeezed so hard tears sprang to her eyes at the memory. Her neck still bore the finger marks from where he tried to choke her to death. He hadn’t been interested in straight sex. No, he’d wanted to hurt and because he’d paid a good sum for her services, he’d believed he could do what he wanted with her. And he nearly had. Belleni heaved a sad sigh and rose from the tub’s edge. “It pains me to see you so abused. I will make this up to you, my darling,” he promised.

  She stared at the tips of her toes as they peeked from the water’s edge where she rested her feet against the water spigot. “You mean it?” she asked softly.

  “Of course, what do you desire and I will make it yours,” he said.

  “I want Nico home with me.” She turned and met his gaze with her one eye that wasn’t impeded by swollen tissue and said, “He shouldn’t live with you and Vivian. He should live with his mother.”

  At her quiet request Belleni hardened into the man she knew hid under that soft and generous exterior. Gone was the loving benefactor, former lover and father of her son, replaced in a heartbeat by the man’s true character that was obsessed with her and ruthless in his determination to keep her at all costs. “He stays with me,” he said brusquely. “You have had a hard night. I will forgive you. But do not try me, darling. I would not have you attempt something brash. You must remember that I am not a fool,” he reminded her, straightening his cuffs with slow, methodical movements that betrayed his need for control in all things. “Get your rest. We will discuss things further after you’ve had a chance to think more clearly.”

  He left her alone and when she heard him leave the apartment, she shuddered and tried to draw a deep breath but the air felt trapped in her lungs. There was nothing she didn’t understand with the clarity of glass. Belleni knew if he didn’t keep Nico she’d try to run again.

  She’d tried to run away when Nico was born but Belleni’s watchdog, Vivian, had caught her as she’d tried to board the train. Belleni’s punishment had been to take Nico from her physically. She hadn’t even been allowed to breastfeed her own child any longer. At six weeks old Nico had been taken from her breast and put on a bottle. The punishment had served its purpose. The second time she’d tried to run, Nico had been two years old. Vivian had found a credit card receipt for airfare out of the city. Her punishment for that had been even worse. Belleni had kept her son from her for three months. By the time he’d allowed her to see Nico, her son had nearly forgotten her. Belleni had known the effect it would have on her when Nico shied away from her open arms and returned to cling to Belleni’s leg.

  The pain had been unimaginable.

  This time, she’d thought she’d get away.

  Everything she’d worked for, all the money she’d managed to squirrel away…useless and for nothing. Her future stretched out before her in an endless road of servitude and the magnitude of her despair drowned the last ounce of hope she’d been fostering since the day Nico was born.

  “Oh, baby,” she whispered as a wave of shame overtook her. She couldn’t go backward and she couldn’t move forward. She was permanently stuck under Belleni’s thumb. Tears burned her eyes and she didn’t have the strength to hold them back any longer…so she didn’t.

  IT’D BEEN A WEEK SINCE the incident with the mystery woman but that coupled with the other things on his mind had served to cripple Christian’s REM time, leaving him grouchy and fatigued by morning. He rose early in spite of having hit the sheets only a few hours prior and went to the gym. Christian melted into the busy streets and walked the short distance to his local fitness center. He felt like crap, the lack of sleep was really starting to wear on him, but there was more to his edge than fatigue. His buddy and business partner Gage had been pressuring him to take a meeting with this bigwig money guy so they could finally open their own nightclub, but Christian wasn’t warm to the idea of bringing more people to the deal. That saying “Too many cooks in the kitchen…” came to mind and he could almost hear his foster mother’s voice in his head saying it, too. Mama Jo may be a couple of states away in West Virginia but her voice was firmly in his subconscious. Most times, it was a good thing because it kept him walking the straight and narrow when he might otherwise feel pulled in a different direction. Other times it was a bit annoying to have the female version of Jiminy Cricket on his shoulder.

  He entered the fitness center and was met by loud music and a tattooed woman who looked as if she could bench-press him without breaking a sweat. She smiled, revealing her tongue piercing—something Christian had never found attractive—but he returned the smile as he swiped his membership ID.

  Christian met Gage at the weight station where he was already doing his reps.

  “You’re late,” Gage said, his face tightening with the exertion of a curling exercise set with major poundage.

  Christian pulled his sweatshirt over his head and tossed it aside. “Cut me some slack. I just went to bed about three hours ago. You’re lucky I came at all.”

  Gage grunted and allowed the weight to slowly release. “Yeah, yeah, cry me a river.” He grabbed a towel and mopped his face. “So, you give any more thought to what I mentioned to you the other day?” he asked, around a gulp of Vitaminwater.

  Christian withheld the grimace threatening to pull on his mouth. He knew this was their best shot but it left him with a bad taste. Still, he nodded. “Yeah. I guess I’m in. What do you know about this guy? Is he solid? I don’t want to climb into bed with someone who’s going to just take my money and split,” he grumbled.

  Gage brightened and grinned. “So paranoid. Yeah, he’s solid. This is what he does. He handpicks projects to invest in. Trust me, everyone in town wants this guy in their corner.”

  “So how do you know him?” Christian asked.

  Gage shrugged but his expression turned coy. “I just do. This is our best chance at getting the club off the ground in this environment. It’s not like we have a handful of investors lining up to open a nightclub in this economic climate. It sucks, man. That’s why it’s important that you make a good impression with him.”

  “What’s his name again?” Christian asked, settling into the leg press machine.

  “Frank Rocco,” Gage answered, getting ready for another set. “I think you’ll like him. He’s a nice older guy who gives off a real down-to-earth vibe. Nothing like the rest of the suits I’ve dealt with. Frank’s the kind of guy who would sit down and have a beer with you just as easily as he would drink some fancy French wine. You’ll like him,” Gage assured him with another grin. He blew out a short breath and started his sets.

  They were both silent for the moment, focused on the exercise, but Christian’s mind was not on his reps but rather what he felt was a crossroads in his life. He’d always dreamed of owning his own nightclub, something classy like Martini only not quite so stuffy, but just when he thought he’d saved enough capital to quit his job so he could focus on his own project, he was faced with the unpleasant reality that no one was willing to float him a loan because he had no track record in his field. It was the proverbial catch-22. He needed experience to prove himself but he couldn’t prove himself without experience. So he needed someone who was willing to take a chance on him and his vision to get his foot in the door. It’d been a year of trying to find
the capital and coming up short that had finally tipped the scale. He didn’t like the idea of being attached to a money guy but he was willing to do what it took to get his business open.

  “So set up the meeting then,” Christian said, his jaw tight.

  “Good, because I already did,” Gage admitted with a grunt as he lowered the weights, sweat running down his face in rivulets. “First meeting is set for next week over coffee at this little hole-in-the-wall place called Café Au Lait that supposedly makes the best espresso in the Village. Wear something casual but not too casual.”

  “I know how to dress,” Christian said, shooting his friend an annoyed look. “You just worry about yourself. I always make a good first impression.”

  Gage mopped his face. “You’re right. That’s why I know this is going to work. I wouldn’t have tied myself to you in this deal if I didn’t think we could make it happen. I forgot my phone at home so I’ll text you the date, time and address when we’re done here.”

  “Thanks,” Christian said, appreciating his friend’s candor and his support but it wasn’t entirely altruistic on Gage’s part. Gage, like Christian, wanted to make money. He finished his set and moved to another machine to work on his deltoids. He focused on the workout, glad to blank out for a minute. The past few weeks had been hell. He loved the city but sometimes it wore him down. It was easy to stumble and fall in this place where the pace never stopped or slowed down for pedestrians. But every now and again, he felt that odd twinge for a little peace and quiet. He usually satisfied that urge with a visit home to Mama Jo but he hadn’t been able to get back there for a while now. He knew what the twinge really was—guilt.

  Mama Jo had raised him and his foster brothers, Thomas and Owen, when hell had opened its doors for each of them and the flames of their personal lives had threatened to incinerate them.

  He owed that woman more than she could ever know. That was another reason he wanted to get the club running. He wanted to make sure he always had the means to take care of Mama Jo if the need ever arose. He knew he could make a go of things if he was given the chance, but so far, he’d been hit by a shitload of roadblocks. And he was feeling the pressure.

  “Hey, I need a favor,” Gage said, interrupting his thoughts. Christian slowly disengaged the weights and stepped away from the machine he was using, suspicion raising his brows at Gage’s request. “I managed to score this date with a girl I’ve been trying to land for weeks now and she finally said yes…”

  Christian shook his head, knowing where this was going. “I don’t double-date,” he said.

  “Dude, wait until you see her friend. She’s hot,” he assured him but Christian wasn’t buying.

  “So why aren’t you going after her instead?”

  “I’m a gentleman—”

  “No, you’re not. You’re a man-whore. What’s the deal? Is she missing a leg? Got a great personality but has a moustache? C’mon…don’t con a con, man. I know you’re trying to sell me a damaged bit of goods.”

  Gage laughed but didn’t deny it. “So, she’s a little on the plump side,” he admitted. “But you’re always talking about how shallow I am so I figured you’d be willing to take a lovely—albeit healthy—lady out for the evening.”

  “I don’t mind a woman with curves,” Christian said, shaking his head. “But doing anything that helps you get laid I’m against on principle. I figure I’m saving some woman’s heart from getting broken because after you hit it and then don’t call her back she’s going to cry her eyes out. My foster mother says, ‘Karma is a bitch’ and, brother, you’re headed for a world of hurt very soon the way you’ve been behaving since I’ve known you.”

  “Thank you, Ghandi,” Gage retorted with a snort. “Save the morality for when you’re back in the sticks of Virginia. This is Manhattan, my friend, where the women are as tough as the men. Besides, when was the last time you enjoyed the company of someone other than your hand?”

  Christian scowled. “You’re a dick and it’s none of your business.”

  “Be that as it may…you’d be doing me a solid with this one.”

  “And why do I care about the status of your love life?”

  Gage straightened and while a smile remained on his lips, there was something serious there, too. Hell, if Christian didn’t know better he’d say that whoever this woman was, Gage was pretty into her for more than just a good time. Christian sighed, hating him self for being a sap. God, his brothers were right, he was a damn romantic at heart no matter how hard he tried to hide it. “Fine,” he bit out. “But just dinner and you owe me big-time for this one.”

  Gage’s face broke out into a relieved smile. “You got it.”

  Christian sighed and left Gage to shower up. While Gage may have hours to spend at the gym, Christian had other commitments.

  It was nearing ten in the morning and his stomach was growling but he didn’t have time to grab a bite before his next appointment.

  He jogged the short steps to the well-kept brownstone and rang the buzzer. A minute later a voice inquired about his business.

  “Christian Holt. I’m here to pick up Mathias Breck.”

  The door buzzed open and he stepped over the threshold as the director of the group home for boys, Sally Hutchins, greeted him with an effusive hug, but there were worry lines bracketing her thin mouth. “Maybe today isn’t a good day,” she said, causing him to wonder what had happened. They’d had this day scheduled for a month now. He was taking Mathias into the Village for Little League tryouts.

  “What’s wrong?” Christian asked.

  Sally pushed away a lock of fine, graying blond hair and pursed her lips as she shook her head, sadness in her eyes. “I think his visit with his mother didn’t go well. He won’t talk about it.”

  “Can I see him?” Christian and Mathias had a lot in common in that they both came from really messed up backgrounds. Christian knew how it felt to sleep with uncertainty, a growling belly and constant fear. Whereas Christian’s mother had checked out of this life unexpectedly with an overdose when he was eleven, Mathias’s mom was still crashing in and out of the boy’s life now and again, most likely when she sobered for a short time, and then disappeared again when her addiction came raging back. It was rough for a kid to see his mom like that. He remembered quite vividly.

  Sally closed the door behind him and ushered him into her office, off the main hall. She sighed as she lowered herself into an overstuffed leather office chair. “It was terrible,” she shared, drawing Christian into her confidence. “She came and checked him out for the day and everything seemed fine but when he returned—alone—I knew something bad must’ve happened.”

  Christian didn’t need to ask how a boy managed to navigate the city without an adult. Likely, Mathias had done it often enough at a much younger age, another unfortunate commonality he shared with the young boy. “He didn’t tell you what went down?” he asked, curious that Mathias’s mother was allowed to check the boy out in the first place.

  Sally shook her head. “He buttoned up real quick the minute he walked through the door. Something tells me it was very upsetting.”

  “Did you file charges against the mother?”

  “No, she hasn’t broken the law. I did report her to Mathias’s social worker, though. Perhaps they can do something about her.” She shrugged as if knowing the hope was futile, having seen too many similar scenarios before. “But he’s back and that’s all that matters, though he’s not the same kid. So, I don’t know if this is a good idea today.”

  Christian wasn’t deterred. If anything, he was more determined to get Mathias back on track and that included things that kids should be doing, such as Little League tryouts. “Can I give it a try?” he asked.

  Sally hesitated, clearly unsure if letting Mathias go with Christian was the right decision, but after another lengthy sigh, she picked up her phone and called for Mathias to come down from the rec room. She pinned Christian with a serious look. “If it looks lik
e he’s going to give you trouble, then you bring him right back.”

  He knew how to handle a kid like Mathias but he gave Sally the assurances she needed so that he could sign the necessary paperwork involved with a day trip.

  Ordinarily, anyone not employed by the state wouldn’t be able to sign out an unrelated minor housed in the group home but Christian had gone through the mentorship program, which enabled him to work with the kids. He’d gone through extensive background checks that included a full physical workup to ensure that he was suitable to work with the kids housed at the home. It was something he felt strongly about and he didn’t mind the hoops he had to jump through as long as he could help some kids out of a rough spot in their lives.

  Mathias, a nine-year-old boy with streaks of gold running through his mop, appeared in the doorway, his expression wary until he saw Christian, then a brief light flared in his eyes that spoke of his happiness even if he didn’t say a word.

  Sally stood and waved Mathias in with a warm smile. “Look who’s here to see you…would you like to spend the day with Christian?”

  Mathias shrugged. “I guess.”

  Christian saw through the artful nonchalance and remembered giving off the same vibe the day he walked through Mama Jo’s front door, a bundle of nerves, dread and apprehension beneath a surface of guarded calm. He knew that somewhere in that kid’s most private thoughts pulsed a raw wound that Mathias would do anything to protect, including pushing away those who were only trying to help.

  “Let’s go, buddy,” Christian said with a friendly gesture. “Got a full day ahead of us.” He waved goodbye to Sally and then they headed out the door.