by Mandi Beck
Doing my best to ignore Veronica and her destination, I stuff my hands into my pockets against the chill in the air, when suddenly on a gust of wind I smell him. Cherry and tobacco. Whipping around, breaking the hold Cristiano has on my arm, I search the darkened street for a glimpse of him. That smell. God, is my mind playing tricks on me? My gaze darts over the many faces crowding the entrance of the bar, smoking, laughing, under the heaters.
The smell of cigarettes wafting, replacing the sweet but sinister smell that reminds me of that night, I can feel myself begin to tremble as the panic and fear bubble up to near hysteria. Cristiano, sensing that something is wrong, takes hold of my elbow and leans down peering at me. “What is it? What’s the matter, mi amor?”
Shaking my head, I grip onto his arms, my fingernails digging into his biceps through his coat. “Do you smell that? Cherries and tobacco?” I ask him in a voice radiating alarm.
He glances around. “The cigarettes?” he questions, baffled by my reaction.
“No, no, it’s different, sweet and smoky, but…not smoke.” I struggle to explain what I mean, frustrated because I still can’t put all of the pieces together, details eluding me. This fear holding my mind hostage causes me to quake in dread, overcome with terror and anxiety. I curse the feelings and my lack of control as the tears start to fall. Cristiano pulls me into his warmth, his scent the one now surrounding me. Safely wrapped in his arms, he strokes a hand over my head.
“Shhh, shh, it’s okay. I don’t smell anything, Francesca. Whatever you thought, it’s not. You’re all right.” He whispers to me in Spanish, the words washing over me making me feel slightly crazy and embarrassed but no less fearful. I bury my face into his sweater and will the anxiety and trembling to subside.
Finally we’re ducking into the back of a taxi, Veronica a thing from the past, though I can feel her eyes on us as she gets into her own cab.
Cristiano slides all the way over so that our thighs are touching and puts his muscular arm around my shoulders. His woodsy, slightly spicy scent fills the car and I settle into his side, still uneasy and with tears sliding down my face, dropping from my chin in rapid descent. I know I shouldn’t, that he wants us to pick up where we left off years ago, but right now I just need to feel comforted. I need Deacon, but clearly that isn’t going to happen.
After a few moments, I’ve calmed down and my eyes, though sore, and I’m sure red rimmed, are dry.
“You okay?” Cristiano asks softly as he runs his nose across my cheek.
Nodding I pull back to look at him. “I’m good now, I think. Tired and ready for bed.”
He smiles his sexy smile. The one that used to get him into my panties without a word. “Would you like some company? We can just hold each other, or if you like, I can remind you of how well I know this beautiful body of yours.”
His voice is hypnotic, his accent like a caress. He continues stroking my arm looking at me with hooded eyes. It would be so easy to forget about everything and just let myself be taken care of by him right now. This vulnerable, needy person is so not me. The attack has left me completely raw, inside and out. It’s left its mark on me physically and emotionally.
“Cristiano, you have a girlfriend. I’m sure that she would not appreciate your reminder,” I say lightly, trying to break the trance he has me in.
Thankfully, it works because there is no way I’ll be the other woman for him or anyone.
Cupping my cheek, he leans in until our lips are almost touching. “Ahhh, mi amor, that’s where you’re wrong. Our relationship was over the moment I stepped into your hospital room. She just doesn’t know it yet because I dread hurting her over the phone.” Brushing his thumb over my bottom lip, he says softly, “Say the word, princessa, and I’ll call her right now no matter what time it is in Spain.”
Looking into his eyes, I see that he’s serious, but is that what I want? Not twenty minutes ago I was contemplating going home with Deacon. Who is probably showing Veronica a good time as we speak. So she gets him and Cristiano will break up with his girlfriend, but only if I give the word to? Where do I fall with either of them? The reality is I have no clue and I’m not sure that I want to know. I’m still trying to come to terms with the life changing fact that I was attacked in my home and left for dead. I do not need this added confusion on top of it all.
Sighing, I pull away from him and lean my forehead against the cool glass of the window, watching the lights of the city pass by in a blur. When did my life fall to pieces and become total chaos? It’s so exhausting.
Melancholy, I turn my head so that I’m looking at him again.
“As flattering as that is and as much as I appreciate you being there for me just now, I’ll be going to bed alone. Thank you.”
And just like that, I choose Deacon no matter what my mind is screaming at me.
The cabbie makes it to my place in record time. Jumping out, I enter the gate code and leave it open so that I don’t have to worry about letting him back through when he leaves. After paying him and autographing a napkin that he shoves at me, I head inside and deactivate the alarm. Overzealous fucker that I am, I decide I may need some mood music to soothe Frankie’s nerves once she gets here. I scroll through until I find a John Legend song. Chicks love John, right? And another one that talks about being a better man. I’ve never in my life had to resort to mood music, but Frankie is different and these songs remind me of the time I’m gonna have to put in to reassure her that I am in this. She’s not just a quick fuck; I know it, now I need for her to. I quickly flick through and pick a few more songs I want to use to convey my message, setting the list to repeat. My girl speaks music, and this will mean more to her than any lines I can come up with. No matter how true they would be.
Going into the kitchen, I debate grabbing one of the bottles of wine that she has here from the chiller or if that’s pushing it. No, I don’t need any more to drink tonight. I’m hoping to sober up a bit before she gets here. I haven’t been this drunk in a long while. Jesus fuck, what is the matter with me? I’m overthinking this whole thing. I need to calm down and not lose my shit before Frankie even walks through the door.
As I turn to head up the stairs to my room, the doorbell chimes. Why the hell is she ringing the bell? She has a key. Maybe she’s as nervous as I am. Chuckling, I throw open the door.
“Where are your ke—” I’m cut short by the unwanted visitor I find on my doorstep.
“Veronica, what the fuck are you doing here?”
I glance behind her, seeing the taillights of the taxi heading down my drive. I step past her out the door and whistle trying to get the driver’s attention to take her ass home. This cannot be fucking happening right now.
“Deacon, is that any way to greet your guest?” she pouts.
Whipping around, I point an angry finger at her. “I have company coming, and you cannot stay here.”
Huffing, she spins on her heel and heads into my home like she has every fucking right to be there. I have got to get her the fuck out of here. Frankie shows up and sees her here and I’m done.
“Veronica, I’m serious, you need to leave. How did you get through the gate anyway? I never gave you the code.”
Arms crossed over her chest, pushing her fake tits up high enough for her to rest her chin on, she looks at me through narrowed eyes.
“It was open, Deacon. If you’d just give me the stupid code, it wouldn’t even be an issue, you know?”
I laugh at her like she’s fucking crazy. She must be if she thinks for even one second I would ever give her such easy access to me and my home.
“Never gonna happen.”
Rolling her eyes at me she says, “Whatever, Deacon, who are you waiting for? It’s late and your brother said you had an early gym time.”
My eyes go all slitty.
“When did you speak to my brother?”
“I saw them all at the bar just now and he told me. Speaking of which, who is the hottie that Francesca’s wi
th now? Sure didn’t take her long to move on, did it?” she says in a snide tone.
I don’t even want to hear this shit.
“What are you talking about? Frankie isn’t with anybody.”
“Well, that’s not what it looked like to me. They were all over each other getting into the back of a cab. I wouldn’t be surprised if they ended up fucking in the backseat,” Veronica says, laughing like what she says is even remotely fucking funny.
Shaking my head in denial, I tell her, “There’s no way. Flashdance has a girlfriend anyway.”
Not that that shit matters to him, but I know it does to the Princess. She wouldn’t allow that noise, would she? I hate the fucking doubt that’s creeping in, but my mind is all over the place when it comes to her and him lately. On top of that, I’m still lit from all that I drank at the bar and it’s clouding my judgment in a big fucking way. Jealousy, pure red hot fucking jealousy is coursing through me and my alcohol fucked brain.
“That doesn’t explain what you’re doing here.”
I’m leaning against the wall right next to the main speaker and the panel that controls the sound system watching her, hands stuffed in my front pockets.
Looking at me coyly, she uncrosses her arms and walks over to me. Running her long, blood red fingernail down the buttons on my shirt, Veronica looks up at me through her eyelashes, licking her lips seductively.
“I’m here to help relieve some of this tension, Deacon. I know how to help you relax. You’re wound so tight, baby,” she says, reaching up on her tiptoes, nipping my jaw as her fingers trail further over my belt buckle and onto my now hardening cock. Fucking thing has a mind of its own and right now it wants sucked. Trying to remind myself that I need to not do this if I ever want to prove to Frankie that she means more to me than the rest of them, but all that I can think about are the words “I wouldn’t be surprised if they ended up fucking in the backseat.” I hear them over and over and it does nothing but make me feel out of fucking control, feeding my anger and need to lash out.
I know that I’ve lost this battle when she slides down onto her knees and pops the buttons on my fly. When the hell did she even get my belt undone? Thumping my head back against the wall in defeat, I screw my eyes closed and will myself not to think about what Frankie and Cristiano could be doing at that very moment. Just the thought pisses me off all over again. Before I have time to let the thoughts fester even more, my cock is hitting the back of Veronica’s throat making her gag. I refuse to even touch her. My dick might be enjoying the hell out of this, but I know as soon as it’s over I’m gonna regret it. Hell, I already regret it even as mad as I am. She’s giving it her all though, and the girl can fucking suck, but all I can think about is running my fingers through silky strands of blonde hair, not the stiff brown covering the head bobbing on my cock.
Gritting my teeth, I try to get my head in the game, but fuck if I know which game I’m trying to be in. Frustrated, I slap my hand over the system to silence the stereo from taunting me with a song I chose for the Princess. I’m about to say fuck it and push Veronica off me, when she does that thing with her finger by my taint. She knows it makes me blow every goddamn time.
Groaning, my hips jerk, pushing me farther down her throat while she swallows my load. Once she’s licked me clean, she stands up wiping the corner of her mouth. With a satisfied smile, she starts to shimmy out of her jeans. My head spinning, I know I need to put a stop to this shit right now.
“My turn,” she purrs, her pants nearly to the ground before I get my head straight.
Tucking myself back into my pants, I can feel a trickle of sweat slipping down my spine. I know I fucked up. Frankie can’t find out about this—together or not, Cristiano, whatever. This shit should not have happened. She won’t forgive me for this totally “Deacon” goddamn move.
“Fuck! Fuck. You gotta go. Fuck!” I yell, the sound echoing in the entryway that we never even made it out of.
Veronica looks at me like I’ve lost my mind, eyes bugging out of her overly made up face, just gaping at me, stunned.
“You’re kidding me right, Deacon? You are not kicking my ass out after I just gave you the best head of your life.”
The best head? Really? It was good, but the best? Shaking off that thought I look at her.
“Veronica, I’m dead ass serious, you need to get the fuck out of my house,” I say through gritted teeth. I have never hit a woman, but fuck me, if I don’t want to shake the shit out of one right now. I know this clusterfuck isn’t really her fault, but she’s the one I want to place the blame on at the moment. Anything to make myself feel better, right? Fucking hell.
She still hasn’t moved when my phone starts ringing. Thank fuck it isn’t Frankie, not that Sonny calling is gonna be a good time.
Pointing toward the door indicating that I still want her to leave, I swipe my finger across the screen.
“What?” I snap.
“I’ve been fucking texting you for the last thirty minutes, dude. Where the hell have you been?” He’s pissed and shit’s only gonna get worse. Sonny knows how I feel about the Princess, and he’s been on my ass about not being a douche and proving to her that I deserve her. This is definitely not what he’s been talking about.
“Jameson, let me call you back.”
“She’s there isn’t she? You let her in, Deacon? Are you kidding me?” he shouts.
My silence is answer enough for him.
“You dumb motherfucker. Did you fuck her?” he yells loud enough for her to hear him, causing Veronica’s eyebrows to shoot up her forehead.
Closing my eyes against the throbbing headache that’s beginning at the base of my skull, I sigh loudly.
“No, Sonn—”
“Not yet, Sonny, but I did suck his dick,” she calls out, leaning in toward the phone in my hand so that he can hear her.
“Get the fuck out now, Veronica. I’m not fucking you now or ever. This was a slip of the dick that won’t happen again. I can promise you that,” I seethe. I can hear Sonny cursing me out, but I can’t make out what he’s saying because I’m too busy trying not to put my foot in this bitch’s ass. Opening the door, I tell her one more time, “Out. Now.”
“Where do you want me to go, Deacon? I don’t have my fucking car here.”
“Fucking fuck. This shit cannot be happening,” I mutter when I finally hear what Sonny is saying.
“I’m at the gate now. Tell her to wait outside. Trent and Reggie can take her ass home.”
“What? Why aren’t they with Frankie, Sonny?”
“Really, Deac? You wanna do this shit now? I don’t think so, brother. We’ll talk when we get in the house.”
With that he ends our call leaving me standing in the open doorway, chest tight, breathing ragged in anger, knowing that my brothers are about to hand me my ass and that I deserve every bit of it.
I watch as Sonny and Mav climb from the Range Rover and Veronica stomps down the steps toward them. She turns back to say something to me, but I go inside before she has the chance to fuck up my night any more than I have already allowed.
Taking the moment I have to myself, I contemplate texting Frankie, but can’t bring myself to do it. The guilt I feel is eating away at me, sobering me even further. The decision is made for me when Sonny and Mav slam into the house making their way to where I sit in the kitchen. With no preamble whatsoever Sonny starts in on me.
“One time, just one fucking time, can you not let your dick control you, Deacon?”
Mav crosses his arms over his chest and stands shaking his head at me.
“You fucked up, brother. Hard to prove that she’s different if you’re not willing to change for her. Whatever though. It’s probably for the best that it happened now instead of after you’ve put all the work in. Cut your losses quick and salvage your friendship, ya know?”
I look at him like he has lost his motherfucking mind.
“Are you drunk, Mav? There’s no way in hell I’m c
utting shit. I fucked up. I know I did, but she won’t find out. I’ll just make sure it doesn’t happen again,” I say, shrugging like it’s that easy, knowing it’s not.
Glancing up, I see that both of my dumbass brothers are now looking at me like I’m the one who has lost his fucking mind.
Sonny shakes his head at me, absolute incredulity written all over his face.
“Are you that stupid, Deac, or just in complete denial? Do you for one minute believe that she won’t find out? That Veronica’s conniving ass won’t run and tell her the first chance she gets?”
He blows out an exasperated breath.
“Do you know why it was Veronica here tonight instead of the Princess? Don’t think I don’t know what the fuck you were doing at the bar by the way. You’re not as smooth as you think, brother,” he says pointing an accusing finger at me.
“She came into the bar and taunted Frankie, but only after she blew her shit for being out and clearly not as hurt as the Princess made us all believe,” he tells me in disgust. “Then she made sure Frankie and everyone else at the table knew that you invited her, and since you weren’t there, she would just come here to fuck you. And you know what? She did!”
Spinning around to leave, Sonny turns back and gets in one last shot.
“I thought out of anyone, you deserved her most because you’ve loved her for so long and so hard. Even if you couldn’t see it, I did.” Shaking his head sadly, he continues, “You’re my brother and I love you, but I think I was wrong. This isn’t the Deacon she needs. Mav’s right; cut your losses now because you’re just gonna hurt her in the end and we might not love her the same way you do, but we don’t love her any less and I refuse to let Frankie get fucked over by you, brother or not.”
