“You know, it’s not normal to threaten to kill people all the time.”
I bite my lip, moving close to her. “You like fucking me so much because I’m normal?”
“Fair point,” she says, dodging my kiss and making me meet her eyes. “We need to talk about this, Damian. We can’t just keep...I don’t know what we’re doing.”
“About what? Greg? The baby?”
“All of it,” she says sighing and flopping down on the couch.
I sit beside her, pulling one of her legs onto my lap and rubbing her calf. “What do you want me to say?” I ask. “Do you want me to say I’ll change? Do you want to hear that I’ll raise the baby even if it’s not mine?”
Tears well in her eyes at my tone and she pulls her leg away, crossing her legs and hugging herself. “I don’t...I don’t expect you to raise the baby if it’s not yours. And I realize that the things you do aren’t just something you can walk away from. I’ve seen movies.”
“I’m trying, Callie. That’s all I can really do. You mean the fucking world to me. Do you know that? If you even knew the half of what I’ve already done to be with you, I wouldn’t even have to tell you that.”
She nods her head. I can see that she wants to ask what I’ve done, but she knows better. I’ve just let a plan to become the most powerful Don in the Northeast go to shit because her ex-fiance wants to wave his dick in my face. Even thinking about it makes me want to hit something. At first, the only real danger was events not falling into place cleanly enough for me to step in and grab control. Now, thanks to Greg and his dog, Agent Conway, my name is in the mix. If the Riccis stop pressuring the Anastasios and the Anastasios stop pressuring the Sanatores, I can almost guarantee they are going to come after me. If they want to come for me, fuck them, but I can’t be there to protect Callie every second of the day, and that’s what scares me. What if they try to go after her?
I have to change the game somehow. I don’t know what I’ll do yet, but if I can throw another wrench into the mix and push this whole shitstorm to another level, I might be able to get some of the heat off Callie and I. Maybe.
“So what are we going to do?” she asks. “Can I start leaving the house and coming to the restaurant soon? You’ve had me cooped up here like a prisoner for over a week now.” She looks down, smiling a little mischievously. “Don’t get me wrong, being your prisoner hasn’t been that bad, but I can’t live like this forever. I’m going stir crazy.”
“It’s dangerous.”
“You can keep me safe.”
I move to put my arm around her. She rests her head on my chest and I breathe in the scent of her, feeling protectiveness surge through me. I know I can’t keep her here forever, but the thought of anything happening to her and the baby is too much to bear. I don’t know that I could let her out of my sight outside the house. I’ll have to figure something out though, for her.
I kiss the top of her head. “We’ll go out tomorrow. Just let me take a few precautions and get some guys on hand. You know how the president has secret service? That’ll look like kid stuff compared to what I’m going to set up for you.”
I can use the guys Benny has been picking up in preparation for our move against the Sanatores. Paying them all is costing me out the ass, but Benny has been in charge of putting them to work collecting protection money and running jobs to help control the cost. Still, I’ll need all the bodies I can get in a few weeks, and I might as well use them to protect Callie in the meantime.
She laughs, pulling her head back to smile at me. “You don’t think that’ll be overkill?”
“For you? No.”
14
Callie
Julia can’t seem to keep her eyes on her plate. She takes a bite, glances to her left, then her right, and then over my shoulder.
“Relax,” I say, even if I feel anything but relaxed.
“So they are all here to just watch you? Don’t you think that’s a little creepy?”
“Creepy? No. Scary? Yes.”
There are four guys that I can see. They all wear casual clothes, but stand out somehow. Maybe it’s the deliberate way they are doing casual things, like the one who is trying to look interested in his phone, but hasn’t touched the screen for at least five minutes, or the one whose hand must be tired from stirring his coffee for so long. Damian said they are guys he trusts and that they will protect me. Seeing the men and knowing why they are here only makes me feel more vulnerable. I just wish Damian was here, but he said he needed to take care of some business in Long Island.
Julia takes a deep sip from her wine. “So, how is the advertising going for the restaurant?”
“Good. Really good. There were a few things I wanted to do inside the restaurant, but once I get that done, I don’t think Damian is going to know what to do with all the customers he’s going to have.”
“As long as he doesn’t hire too many people and start messing with my hours.”
“I think everyone is going to be getting more hours. I’ve been running Facebook ads, Twitter campaigns, an Instagram account, and I even created a dedicated Facebook group that has over a thousand local members. I had this idea to turn it into a kind of game so that…” I notice the way Julia is still scanning the room, looking bored already.
She realizes I stopped talking a few seconds later and covers her forehead. “I’m sorry, Callie. This is just so weird. I can’t relax, you know?” Her eyes follow one of Damian’s guys who keeps pacing outside the restaurant.
I sigh. “I know. I’m just trying to convince myself that I can live like this. Or that it’s only temporary. Well, the real reason I called you here was to give you this,” I say, reaching in my purse and pulling out the money Damian gave me. It was ten thousand dollars when I counted it out, and I could barely fit it into an envelope.
Julia frowns at the envelope. “What is this? Why is it so heavy?”
I lower my voice. “It’s hopefully enough money for you to go back to school, at least for a semester. I don’t know how much grad school costs, but it should be a start.”
She shakes her head, pushing the envelope back towards me. “I can’t. I don’t know how much this is, but I know it’s too much.”
“You can go throw it in that trash can if you don’t want it, but I’m not taking it back.”
Julia gives me a long look and finally stands, smiling and giving me a tight hug. “I don’t deserve to be your friend,” she says into my neck.
“Yes, you do. You’ve been here for me through so much already, and I can always count on you to be honest when I need it.”
She pulls back, frowning. “I hate to say it, but if you want honesty, this,” she says, waving a finger at the guys protecting me, “is not normal. You need to walk away from him while you still can.”
I wait in the doctor’s office, feeling nervous as hell. For the first time today, my nervousness isn’t because of the armed men scattered around the room, trying to look inconspicuous. I’m having a doctor confirm my pregnancy, and I’m terrified of what he’ll say. The strangest part is, I’m scared of either outcome. If there really is a baby, it could be Greg’s or it could be Damian’s. It had been weeks since the last time Greg slept with me and when Damian fucked me. But either possibility is frightening, even though I know I want it to be Damian’s with every fiber of my being, stupid or not.
I’m also scared that he’ll tell me there’s no baby. I should be crossing my fingers for that news. For some reason I’m not. Maybe it’s my hope that a baby will be the missing piece to make things work between Damian and I. Until now, what we had together defied definition. I wasn’t his girlfriend. There has never been enough trust and open communication to call it that. But there was too much emotional connection to call it casual sex. And Jesus, there’s nothing casual about the way he fucks me. Whoever thought “sleeping together” was synonymous with fucking never had a man like Damian between their legs. When our clothes come off and it’s just us, it
feels right, like nothing could ever come between us. As soon as the chemicals stop flowing and I have time to really think things through, I realize how crazy this all is, how crazy I must be to even consider spending my life with this man.
Is that what I’m considering? Would I really marry a man like him? I fidget in the uncomfortable chair, watching a very pregnant woman waddle out and stand in front of the nurse’s desk. My mind wants one thing and my body wants another. I know I just feel good when I’m with him. It feels right and perfect, but it’s not. I know that on a deep, logical level. How can it be perfect when he’s a killer? How can I think it’s right when being with him puts me and my unborn child at risk?
Maybe I don’t deserve a perfect guy though. Maybe I don’t want one. After all, wasn’t that what all my friends always said about Greg? He’s absolutely perfect! And who wouldn’t have thought so? When we first met, he was charming, polite, and he swept me off my feet with extravagant dates and presents. Before the sheen of newness had worn off, he had already started becoming something else. He would make comments about my friends, my clothes, what I ate, how I spoke… He was always trying to turn me into something that fit his picture of perfect. Even after all our time together, I’m still not sure he ever saw me for who I was or tried to appreciate it. The only reason he’s still chasing after me is probably that I didn’t have the dignity to turn into what he wanted or expected before I walked away.
“Miss Beccaccio?” asks the nurse.
I stand, noticing Damian’s men moving to follow me. I shake my head at them. What do they think is going to happen? All five of them are going to cram into the examination room and watch me undress? Hell no.
One of the guys moves close to me. He has dark skin and a scruffy face. “Damian is going to have our fucking balls if we let you out of our sight.”
“And what do you think he’d do if I told him you were in the room while the doctor spreads my legs?”
The man pales, swallowing and motioning for the guys to stay put. “Just yell if you need us.”
I roll my eyes. “I think I’ll be okay.”
The nurse takes me to an examination table and takes my vitals. To my surprise, the doctor doesn’t even make me wait. He steps into the room only a minute or two after the nurse let me in. He gives me a curt nod, turning his back to me and fiddling with some glass containers while the nurse finishes taking my blood pressure.
She licks her lips, and I realize her upper lip is sweating, which surprises me because it’s practically freezing in here.
“Is everything okay?” I ask.
The nurse gives a forced smile. “Your blood pressure looks fine, honey. Don’t worry.”
I think about yelling for Damian’s men to come, but I know I’m just being paranoid. The nurse raises her eyebrows as she looks at the reading of my blood pressure.
The doctor turns around, clasping his hands behind his back. He looks like a grandfather, and the smile he gives me is warm. It puts me at ease somewhat. “First pregnancy?” he asks.
“Yes. I hope so,” I say.
“If your body is telling you that you’re pregnant, I’m sure you are. Could you hand me that pen, please? I just need a signature.”
I turn to grab the pen beside the exam table and the nurse rushes forward, pinning my arms to my side and cupping a hand over my mouth. I scream as the doctor pulls a syringe from behind his back.
Everything happens in slow motion, like we’re underwater and this is a nightmare. My muscles feel unresponsive, like jelly. The cruel expressions on their faces seem monstrous. The doctor jabs the syringe into my neck and pumps a clear fluid into me. I strain against them, but immediately feel my vision going black and my muscles losing strength. My scream turns to a sigh, and everything goes black.
The sheets feel like clouds around me and I think I could lay in this bed and never move for as long as I live. Everything feels numb and soft and comfortable. Damian sits in a chair beside the bed. We’re in his house. Our house. It’s a good thought and it makes me smile.
He stands, taking in a sharp breath. “Callie…”
“Hey baby,” I say in a poor impersonation of Elvis Presley.
He moves a lock of hair from my forehead, cupping my cheek. “How do you feel?”
“Why do you look so mad? Mr. Grumpy pants,” I say, chuckling and reaching to pinch his cheeks.
A grin tugs at the corner of his mouth, but the icy anger doesn’t leave his eyes. “I need to know what you remember?”
What I remember? Why is he being so serious? What’s he talking…
A syringe. The doctor. The sweat on the nurse’s upper lip.
It comes back in a rush, knocking the lingering effects of the sedative from me in an instant. I close my eyes, covering my face. “They drugged me. I don’t know why. I just remember being stuck with a needle and then I was here.”
He nods, sitting on the bed and pulling me into a tight hug. “My guys said you told them to wait outside the doctor’s office?”
I blush. “Yeah. Bad idea?”
He shrugs. “Don’t worry about it now. You were right, I would’ve ended anyone who got to see your pussy. That’s just for me.”
“Why would they drug me? I don’t understand. You don’t think they did something to the baby, do you?”
Damian frowns. “They wouldn’t dare touch that fucking baby.” His hand moves protectively to my stomach and he kisses me beneath the ear. “They wouldn’t dare.”
Tears well in my eyes. I reach to wipe them but Damian takes my hand and gently wipes my eyes with his knuckle. “Hey,” he says. “I’m here for you, okay? I’m going to find out what happened and I’m going to make it right. I promise.”
I hug him. It feels good knowing that he is watching over me. He’s more force of will than man, all purpose and no hesitation. Having him beside me gives me the strength I need to keep myself sane in the middle of all of this. Not for the first time, I wonder where I would be without him. Probably in way less danger and not looking over my shoulder every minute. The thought makes me smirk. The strange thing is I’d rather be in the position I’m in now than where I was, watching my life slip away inch by inch with Greg, letting him take who I am and try to mold it into who he wanted.
The waitress hands me a menu and then gives one to Damian. She’s absolutely gorgeous, and she’s practically begging Damian to notice her with the way she leans in front of him and thrusts her boobs in his face, but he doesn’t even so much as flick his eyes toward her. I smile a little. Greg would have been making eyes at her all night.
I realize this is actually the first time I’ve been out to eat with Damian. He has paid for Julia and I to go out several times between when I wouldn’t let him take me out and when he couldn’t be there. I guess he got tired of me complaining about being cooped up, so he packed me in a car and said we could eat anywhere I wanted. The look of surprise on his face when I said I’d rather go to a cheap barbecue place was priceless.
He looks over the menu, working his lips in concentration. “You sure this is the place you want to eat at? You deserve the best.”
“I’ve had enough fancy restaurants to last a lifetime,” I say. I don’t want to keep bringing up Greg when I’m around him. I can’t keep myself from comparing everything with Damian to how it was with Greg, but it’s only because the contrast makes me realize how horrible it was before. If I talk about it too much though, I worry Damian will start to think I’m fixated on Greg somehow. Thankfully, that couldn’t be any farther from the truth.
“Good. I actually prefer this kind of place, too. I should know by now you’re not like other women. I give you a few thousand dollars to go shopping and you get under a hundred dollars worth of clothes from a bargain bin. I give you a pick of any restaurant in town or even in New York and you pick this place. You can’t be bought, can you?”
“God knows Greg tried,” I say, nearly wincing when I realize I’m already talking about Greg again.
Damian eyes me over his menu and then continues scanning. “What the hell is a chitlin?”
I suppress a smile. “They’re really good. You should order us some.”
“Okay. Do you want any other appetizers?”
“Corn nuggets?” I suggest.
The waitress comes back a minute later with our drinks and tries again to get Damian’s attention, but fails. She takes our appetizer order and huffs off, making sure to shake her ass when she walks away.
“Were you originally from the South?” asks Damian.
“Florida,” I say. “I moved up here when…” I pause, not wanting to talk about Greg or the past we have together.
Damian is tactful enough to ignore my uncomfortable pause. “Doesn’t get much more South than that.”
“Geographically, no,” I say. “Culturally, it’s mostly a watered down version of the South most people think of. You have the outdoorsy types, suburban moms, and farmers rubbing shoulders just about everywhere you look.”
“What were you?”
An orphan, basically. “A little bit of everything, I guess.”
He narrows his eyes at me. “Part of my work is knowing when people are lying to me.”
I shift in my seat. “I’m not lying.” I say slowly.
“You’re holding something back. You can trust me, Callie.”
“It’s not some big secret. It’s just embarrassing. I never had anything growing up. Even when I got a big advertising job, I couldn’t ever get over the guilt of spending money. I remember what it was like and... it doesn’t feel right.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”
I shake my head, feeling like an idiot as tears prick at my eyes. “It’s not a big deal.” It was. “I survived, didn’t I?” Sort of.
He frowns. “I don’t like that you think you need to hold back around me. You can tell me anything.”
“Yeah, because I’m the only one with trust issues at this table.”
Mine (Citrione Crime Family #2) Page 10
