by Alexa Land
I’d stopped hustling when Finn hired me, since he’d paid me so much. That morning (was it really only that morning?) I’d given back every cent I’d made all summer, including a good portion of my savings to make up for what I’d spent. I really could use that cash.
Somehow though, I just couldn’t go through with it. Finn had been the only man to touch me since June and…oh God. I suddenly realized that I’d feel like I was cheating on him if I let this guy fuck me. I really was messed up. “I said I’m not interested,” I said, and tried to push past him.
He wasn’t the type to handle rejection well, so he grabbed both my shoulders and hissed as he shoved me against the sink, “You think you’re too good for me, bitch?”
“Let go of me,” I growled. He had my arms pinned, so I couldn’t take a swing at him, and my legs were trapped between him and the sink so I couldn’t knee him in the nuts. He was also way too tall for me to head-butt him, so until he decided to let go of me, I was stuck.
“Or what? As if a skinny, good-for-nothing slut is going to do anything about it.”
Someone tapped him on the shoulder, and he whirled around to confront whoever was interrupting him. A hard punch connected with his jaw, dropping him like a bag of rocks. As soon as he fell I saw Nico behind him, shaking out his left hand. “I forgot how much that hurts,” my friend said. I must have looked as shocked as I felt, because he added, “My family was in the mafia for the better part of two centuries. You’d better believe I was taught to throw a punch.”
I stepped over the prone douchebag, who was moaning and making no effort to get up. Pretty much everyone in the restroom had stopped what they were doing to stare at us. “Come on Rocky Balboa, let’s go before we find out he’s here with a pack of giant, douchey friends,” I said.
We left the club, waving to our friends on our way out, and walked the few blocks back to our hotel. “Thanks for coming to my aid,” I said. “It wasn’t really necessary, I would have kneed him in the family jewels as soon as he got off me. But still, it was nice of you to intervene. Is your hand okay?”
“I’ll be fine,” Nico said as he flexed his fingers. “I’m going to ice it when we get back to the room to keep it from swelling.”
“I have to say, that seemed utterly unlike you.”
“It is. I’m not even sort of a violent person, despite my family history. But I heard the way he was talking to you and it really pissed me off. I can’t blame it on the alcohol, either. I’d have decked that jerk even if I was sober.”
“You’re a good friend, Nico.”
“Thanks for saying that.”
Despite the late hour, the Sunset Strip was crowded with young, beautiful people, scantily dressed on that warm summer night. Nico and I joined hands as we wound our way through the throng. A warm breeze rattled the long rows of palm trees overhead, and scores of lit, colorful billboards vied for attention. It was a lot to take in, and the quiet lobby of our hotel felt soothing after all of that.
When we got to our shared hotel room, I got him some ice and wrapped it in a washcloth. We then sat cross-legged on one of the two queen beds and I held his hand between both of mine as I kept the pack on his knuckles. They’d begun to discolor a bit and were probably going to bruise. After a while I said, “Did your family really teach you how to throw a punch?”
“My cousin Jerry did. He was always the tough guy, still is. He’s running the west coast side of the family business now and my brother Andreas is running east coast operations.”
“I’ve never known what to make of the fact that your family is or was in the mafia. Is, by the sound of things.”
“It’s not like it used to be. I’m pretty sure all of my family’s sources of revenue are legal these days. There are still a lot of old rivalries though, some of which go back generations. That’s why the Dombrusos will always make a big show of being strong, united and organized, regardless of how they’re earning their income. Any sign of weakness and it’s entirely possible some of the rival families might try to swoop in and settle old scores.”
“Damn,” I muttered.
Nico said, “I know how insane all of that sounds. It sounds insane to me too, even though I grew up with it. It has very little to do with me, I’ve never been even remotely involved in the family business, but there is this whole overarching reality that comes along with the Dombruso name.”
“You don’t judge me for being a prostitute, and I’m sure as hell not going to judge you for your family history.”
“Thanks for that.” He slid his hand out from under the ice pack and flexed his fingers again as he said, “That history has been on my mind a lot lately, since tomorrow I’m flying back to the place where it all began. Part of our vacation will be spent in the town in Sicily where Nana was born, Viladembursa. Our history goes back centuries in that place, and much of it was very violent and bloody. Nana still has a lot of family there, which is why we’re going. It’ll be strange to be in a place with that kind of legacy. I visited once when I was fourteen, but haven’t been back since.” He grinned suddenly.
“Apparently you have some good memories from that visit.”
He said, “Oh. Um, yeah. One in particular. I had my first kiss in Viladembursa. I met this beautiful boy at the fountain in the town square. I never even knew his name, but I’ll never forget him.”
“That sounds amazing.”
“It’s my fondest memory, and it’s still so incredibly vivid. I remember every little detail, the green of his eyes, the little chip in his front tooth, the three freckles in perfect alignment on his collarbone. I even remember the smell of the water in the fountain and how cold it was when he pulled me in with him.” Nico smiled, looking more wistful than I’d ever have thought possible.
“It’d be wild if you ran into him again.”
“That’s impossible. Viladembursa has grown to almost thirty thousand people. I know I’m not going to run into one guy from over ten years ago.” He returned the ice pack to his knuckles as his smiled faded.
“Yeah, probably not. I hope you have a great time on your vacation, though.”
“I’m really going to try.”
Chapter Eleven
The sun was low in the sky as my car bounced down a deeply rutted dirt road. It led to the ranch house that had been my home for the first fourteen years of my life. I’d returned to San Francisco from L.A. two days earlier, said goodbye to Zachary (who’d tried to get me to bail on the road trip) and started heading for Wyoming. I’d slept in my car the night before to save money on a motel room, and had gotten on the road before dawn and knocked out the rest of the thousand mile journey.
The house was in the middle of nowhere. My mother had inherited it and the twenty acres of nothing which it sat on from her father, who’d passed before I was born. The nearest town was called Simone, and it was centered around a natural gas plant that was the lifeblood of the community. The homestead was almost twenty miles from town, surrounded by brown scrubby weeds in the middle of a brown, treeless wasteland.
It looked even worse than I remembered it. The roof was sagging, and the whole thing was covered in a layer of dirt, as if the land was slowly claiming it. It was two stories with a wrap-around porch and had been white and probably nice once, but years of neglect had taken their toll. The house would have looked abandoned if it wasn’t for the pickup parked beside it. The truck was filthy too, but the windshield showed a clean half-circle carved out by one wiper blade, suggesting recent use. The dust layer would have settled right back in a day or two.
I pulled up outside the house and waited for the dirt cloud to settle before I opened my car door and stepped out into a stifling August heatwave. As I stretched my stiff neck and shoulders, my brother came out of the house and fidgeted on the porch. Colt had been a child the last time I’d seen him. He was far more man than boy now, skinny and so long-legged that he lived up to his name. He wore a baggy formerly red t-shirt and ratty gym shorts, shifting his weig
ht from one sneakered foot to another. Even though we had different fathers, we looked a lot alike. We both took after our mother with our blue eyes and hair so dark brown it was almost black. He’d probably end up taller than me, judging by the fact that he was already my height and most likely not done growing yet.
“Mom’s not here,” he called as I approached the house. “She’s on vacation. Sorry that you came out here for nothing. I hadn’t checked the P.O. box in a couple weeks, so I only got your letter this afternoon. Otherwise, I would have written back and told you to save a trip.”
“Oh. Where’d she go?”
“Ohio.”
“Why Ohio?”
“Because her boyfriend wanted to visit some friends there.”
“When’s she coming back?”
“I don’t know. Like, a couple weeks?” He stared at the dusty porch, shifting uncomfortably.
“So, she just left you here by yourself?”
He looked up at me and knit his thick brows. “I’m sixteen. I’m not a kid. I can take care of myself.”
I stepped up onto the porch and tried to look him in the eye, but Colt looked away. He seemed nervous for some reason. “I know. I didn’t mean to insult you. I’m just surprised she didn’t take you along.”
“She went with her boyfriend. I would’ve been in the way.”
“I didn’t know she had a boyfriend.”
“Why would you? It ain’t like you been around,” he muttered.
“I know,” I said softly. “I barely recognized you, Colt. You got all grown up on me.”
He glanced at me, then looked away quickly. “I barely recognized you either. You growin’ a beard?”
“Nah. I just haven’t bothered to shave in a few days.”
“I wish I could grow a beard,” he said. “It’d make me look a lot older, I bet.”
“Why do you want to look older?”
“Because it totally sucks gettin’ treated like a kid.”
“True. I remember.” He just kept staring at the porch, tracing an arc in the layer of dirt with the toe of his worn-out sneaker. After a moment I asked, “Is it okay if I come inside? I really need to use the bathroom.”
He looked at me with wide, frightened eyes, and for a moment I thought he was going to say no. But finally he said, “I guess that’d be okay.”
I followed him in, through the bent, duct-taped screen door. It was even hotter inside than outside. There was a swamp cooler in the living room window to the right of the front door, and even though it was making plenty of noise, it didn’t appear to actually be cooling the place down any. The living room was a total mess, and the kitchen, which was straight ahead, was even worse. Every surface was cluttered with trash, including a huge number of Styrofoam ramen soup bowls. That was surprising, since my mother had always kept the inside of the house tidy, even if she’d given up on the outside long ago.
Movement to my left caught my eye. A thin, blond boy of maybe fifteen or sixteen with big, dark eyes hung back in the shadows outside Colt’s bedroom door, dressed only in a pair of threadbare cotton shorts. His long hair was gathered into a messy ponytail, the escaped tendrils wet with sweat and sticking to his neck and forehead. “Hi, I’m Chance,” I called. Instead of replying, the boy darted into the bedroom.
“That’s Elijah. He’s a friend. You remember where the bathroom is, right?” Colt said quickly.
I nodded and headed down the hall to the left of the living room. The bathroom was beyond filthy, as if it hadn’t been cleaned in months. I wondered why my mom had let the place go like that. I used the toilet and washed my hands, drying them on my jeans since the towel looked like it could get up and crawl away.
As I reached for the door handle, I heard someone, presumably Elijah, say, “I thought you weren’t gonna let him in.” He had a thick southern accent.
“I had no choice,” Colt said. “He had to use the bathroom. I really couldn’t say no to that.”
“You coulda said the toilet was broken or something,” Elijah said.
“Both of them? There are two bathrooms. He used to live here, so he knows that.”
“Okay, you’re right.”
“Everything’s going to be fine, baby. I promise.”
Baby. Oh. I came out of the bathroom and crossed the hall to my brother’s room. When I stuck my head in the door, Elijah took a step back quickly, away from Colt. I said, “I’m sorry I barged in on you two. You must have been trying to have fun while Mom’s away, and I showed up and interrupted.”
“I…um,” my brother stammered.
“I had no idea you’re gay, Colt, but obviously I’m totally fine with that,” I added.
Colt looked startled. “How did you know?”
“I overheard you just now. You called Elijah baby. I’m gay too, I’m not sure if you knew that.” He just stared at me. After an awkward pause, I asked, “Is it okay if I spend the night here? I didn’t just come to see mom, I wanted to see you, too. I get that it’s weird because we barely know each other, and I’ll leave in the morning. I just…I’d like it if we could talk a little.”
There was that frightened look again, and it made my heart ache. Was I so much of a stranger that my own brother was actually scared of me? He muttered, “Um, yeah. I mean, this is as much your house as it is mine.” He and I both glanced at Elijah, who looked terrified. Why? There really wasn’t anything intimidating about me.
I asked, “Will you come for a walk with me, Colt? I just spent all day on the road and could use a little exercise.”
“I guess so.” He turned to Elijah and touched his arm gently, then told him, “I’ll be back in a little bit. Okay?”
Elijah hugged his boyfriend quickly and said softly as he let go of him, “Okay. Be careful.” Be careful? We were just going for a walk, it wasn’t as though I was taking him skydiving.
Colt touched Elijah’s face tenderly and said, “I will, baby.”
My brother and I left the house by the back door. As we cut through the kitchen, he said, “I keep meaning to clean this up.” It really was disastrous, with flies buzzing around the empty soup bowls and fast food wrappers. It smelled bad, too.
“How long ago did Mom leave on vacation?” I asked him.
“Like, um, two weeks ago,” he mumbled.
We walked down a path overgrown with weeds, the only things that thrived in that part of Wyoming. Eventually, we came to a bench my grandfather had built decades ago. The fact that it wasn’t dusty told me my brother came out here sometimes. Before us, the land dipped down into a shallow valley. In the distance, Simone was just barely visible. Only three thousand people lived there, so it wasn’t exactly lit up like Vegas, but it did give us something to look at amid the brown nothingness.
“I always liked this spot,” I said as I settled onto the bench.
“Me, too.”
“How long have you and Elijah been together?” I asked after a pause.
“Five months.”
“Where’s his family from? My guess would be Georgia, but I’m no good at pinpointing accents.”
“He’s from Mississippi.”
“I’m glad you have someone,” I said.
“Really?” When I nodded, he said, “It’s weird that you’re okay with me likin’ a boy. I’m not used to that. Usually, we just get a lot of funny looks and rude comments even if we ain’t even holdin’ hands or anything, because he kinda looks like a girl.”
“People are assholes.”
“You ain’t wrong.”
“Is Mom okay with it?” I asked.
“She doesn’t know,” he admitted, turning away from me.
“Oh.” After another pause, I asked, “So, how’s school? Is Simone High the same hell pit that I remember?”
Colt stood up and said, “Are you gonna, like, keep interviewin’ me? I ain’t exactly fond of that, so if you’re gonna keep doin’ it, maybe we should cut this short.” I grinned at him, and he asked, “What?”
�
��You and Elijah must spend a lot of time together. You’re developing his southern accent.” He frowned at me, and I said, “It’s cute. And I’m sorry about the interview. I don’t know anything about your life, so I was just curious. I can see why that’d be annoying though, so I’ll knock it off.”
My brother hesitated, then sat back down on the edge of the bench, keeping as much distance between us as he could. After a moment, I said, “I’m sorry this is so awkward for you. I should have made an effort to see you when you were growing up. It’s just…it’s weird for me to be back here.”
“I kinda remember when you ran away. Mama wouldn’t talk about it afterwards, but I remember a lot of yelling and crying before you left. You were so mad at her.”
“Yeah,” I said quietly, “I was.”
“But then you started sendin’ the checks. You weren’t even gone six months before the first one arrived. Why’d you send money home if you were so mad?”
“Mom lost her job because of me,” I said. “I knew she’d never be able to find another one in Simone, not one that paid more than minimum wage at least, and I was worried about you, Colt. You were just a little kid. I wanted to make sure you had enough to eat and that the electricity stayed on.”
He was quiet for a few moments before saying quietly, “Thank you.”
That meant more to me than he could possibly realize. There was a lump in my throat as I murmured, “You’re welcome.”
“I know you’re not plannin’ to send those checks forever. When you gonna cut them off, when I turn eighteen?”
“No. As long as you need the money, I’ll keep sending it.”
He was quiet for another minute before saying, “Mom said you were workin’ at Taco Bell. I found out what that pays, so I don’t know how you can afford to send all that money.”
“I don’t work in fast food,” I admitted. “I only told her that.”
“Oh. Then what do you do?”
“I’d rather not talk about it.”
Colt turned to look at me. “Is it something bad?”
“I said I don’t want to talk about it.”
