Vote Then Read: Volume II

by Lauren Blakely

  “Oh! God! No! No!” I bellow out, pulling her broken body next to mine. “I have it! I need to tell her everything. No!” My screams echo throughout the hospital room. “Not my pixie girl! Kaci… Come back to me. I’m in trouble. Real fucking trouble.”

  “Do you want us to call a priest?” Karissa offers, laying her hand on my back. “We can do whatever you need.”

  “I need my wife back…” I grip her tighter, wanting her to breathe. “Please, Kaci, please. Wake up and come back to me.” I’m inconsolable as I sink into the pits of a pain I have never known. “Kacilyn…”

  Rushing past Amber, Karissa leaves.

  “Salvatore,” Amber panics, swinging open the door and rushing inside.

  “You need to get out of here!” Jaid hisses. “It isn’t safe. You know better.”

  “Get out of my way!” Amber pushes Jaid away as Jack shows up. “He’s my fucking responsibility.”

  Jaid grabs her by the shoulder. “You need to go. You will be called when it is time for you to surface out of the gutter...”

  “Fuck. You.”

  “Stop!” I get up from the bed and go to hug Amber. The decision is made. “She is staying. If I can’t keep her safe, no one can.”

  “Sal, you are risking everything for this piece of shit, white trash whore!”

  “It is what your sister wanted,” I confess, without holding anything back. “Now get out of here. Now.”

  “What?” Jaid cries as Jack grabs hold of her arm. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I just found out,” I angrily mumble.

  “I’m so hurt,” Jaid cries, ducking away. “You enjoy Kaci’s monster, Amber. You deserve him.”

  In the silence of the room, I hear the booming voices chanting in the distance. They are marching closer and coming for me. I won’t get out of this unscathed.

  But that is okay—Kaci built me to withstand the impact.

  Amber gazes at me and asks, “What are you doing?”

  I remove the nasal cannula from over her head. I pull off the patches and wires of the EKG. I grab the tape from the drawer, and carefully remove the ports for her IV.

  “Sally…”

  “Let me do it.” Picking her up, I cradle her in my arms in the reclining chair. We rock for over two hours as Amber sits with me, but doesn’t say a word. The priest comes and administers a prayer.

  When he leaves, I glance at Amber, sitting in the chair. All of her attention has been on me for hours. I want to say everything—but I know, Kaci hears me. She is here. She will always be here, woven into my fabric. “She never wanted the last rites. She wasn’t Catholic, and she didn’t want to curse herself.” I burst out laughing, and Amber joins me.

  “She was one of a kind.”

  “Yes, she was…”

  “Would you like a moment alone?”

  I shake my head as I stand up and lay her on the bed. “I love you so much. I imagined this day for so long, but I never knew it would feel like this. I never knew it would hurt this bad.”

  At the end of the bed, Amber patiently waits.

  Brushing my hand over her head, I kiss her lips. “I love you. Goodbye, Hope.”

  “We can stay as long as you like,” Amber says as tears rush down her cheeks. “I don’t mind.”

  “Are you ready?”

  “Yes,” she replies, holding out her hand. “I gathered your things hours ago.”

  “I know, you are always watching after my ass.” I grab my hoodie and toss it on before swinging my backpack over my shoulder. “Come on,” I mumble, focusing on Amber. “Let’s get out of here.”

  Latched onto one another, we walk away with our heads held high. I don’t look back as we walk into the hallway. Bitch nurse from hell, Linda, is on duty. “I’m very sorry…”

  “Don’t.” I flatten my hand and flip her the finger. “I don’t want your condolences.”

  And neither would Mrs. Raniero.

  Part IV

  Drowning en Masse

  26. Tilt

  “Are you going to be able to do this?” Jaid asks on the phone. I’m in the bathroom of On the Square Chapel, a nondenominational church, in Sugargrove on January 3, 2011.

  “Absolutely,” I whisper, tying my tie as the tears stream down my face. I had to throw up, and everything came off. “I know what you need to do. I’m sorry about the hospital. I heard what you did.”

  “I sat with her as long as you did and made my peace with everything, but I cannot forgive Amber for the things she said.”

  “Then I guess I get to play friend to two enemies.”

  “It’s time,” Jack says, cracking open the door. “Guests are starting to arrive. Traffic is bad. We are delaying half an hour for latecomers.”

  “I cannot believe you are going to greet everyone,” Jaid says, concerned. “How are you going to get through that?”

  “Easy, I’m trained for this,” I mention, checking myself in the mirror. “Trust and stay in the shadows, Ghost.”

  Jack’s assessments were spot on. Everyone wants to say goodbye to The Pixie Mistress. I shake hands, smoke cigarettes, and cry, but I never really break down. This is a show. My mourning will happen privately with a bottle of booze in our loft in Houston.

  Hold it together, until tonight.

  Keep your shit together, Raniero.

  Anna is sitting with Nonna inside. She is flirting with Dom. Serene is heartbroken and hysterically crying in every nook and cranny. Of course, no one knows the real reason. Jack is quiet and reflective as I sense he is regretting all the decisions he made. Cristos shows. He kisses my cheeks as I note Dale Archer, lurking with a scrutinizing scowl. He is following me everywhere.

  Tomorrow, I’m a target.

  Tomorrow, I have a hefty sum for my head.

  But that is tomorrow. And I’m not thinking about that today.

  I have Jaid for thinking about tomorrow.

  And Amber for today.

  In the parking lot, I hear the rumble of the engine and give up a crooked grin. I spot my practice slut in her new, sleek, black Porsche Boxster Spyder. I wave her to the spot I saved in the parking lot beside the bike that would have been Kaci’s. “I’m sorry I’m late,” she says as I open her door. “Traffic is backed up to the damn farm to market.”

  “You look beautiful,” I praise, scanning over her demure black dress. “Really amazing.”

  “I’m trying. How are you doing?”

  “Fucking horrible,” I say with a fake smile. “I want this over and done with.”

  “I know you do, babe.”

  Taking her hand, we make our way inside. Everyone knows Amber is someone important to me. They assume we are a couple, but that isn’t exactly the truth either. She is Sal Raniero’s mistress who happens to like to protect my ass and kill people off to keep my hands clean. I’ll defend her with my life.

  With Kaci’s biological parents, Serene and Cristos, we endure the extended service which seems to drum on for hours. She had many friends come in from all over the world. Even Lars and Hilda showed up. People I don’t even know, and I know a lot of people.

  At one point, I turn and look around and spot someone in the balcony—the elusive Hennessey Bindel even came briefly. I smirk. I don’t bother to chase her because I know as soon as I get upstairs, she will vanish.

  The end of the service is just as taxing as the beginning. I shake hands and pretend to keep it all together. Jack nudges my arm. “Chance Ballister sends his condolences. The grand white display of irises is from him and his wife.”

  My future…

  Heading through the gathering of people in the chapel, I pick seven stems as I slowly approach my wife’s casket. I chose to keep her closed with no viewing. She wouldn’t have wanted that because she never felt like herself after the last round of chemo.

  Lowering to my knees, I pray as the crowd silenced. “I will love you forever. And I miss you so much, but I’ll still talk to you…and people will think I’m fucking
crazy talking to myself.”

  “God, Sal…” I hear Amber mutter from behind me.

  Setting the iris on the casket, I rise and make the sign of the cross. I face the onlookers and hand Amber an iris. She kisses my cheek and whispers, “She’s still an oink oink.” I smirk, and she winks as we walk through the quiescent group hand in hand. “We’re making such a bold statement.”

  Opening the door, I place my hand on her lower back and feel the silhouette of a gun. I say nothing. She isn’t the only one packing. “Which is why you are leaving as soon as we finish at the cemetery. You are taking Nonna with you for two weeks to The Dollhouse until we see what the fallout is with your side project.”

  She snarls proudly, but her eyes fill with tears. It isn’t easy to say goodbye to her, but I must. I swore I would keep her safe and none of this is.

  I hand the rest of the stems to Nonna and kiss her. The blooms represent Iris, Jaid, and myself. The fourth is for Saint Cruz’ kid, Deacon, which I somehow have to figure out how to befriend. “You are riding in that fancy sports car with Dom.”

  “Ohhh…” Nonna’s eyes spark with excitement as she cannot take her eyes off the second most handsome Italian at the joint. “That’ll be fun!”

  I kiss her cheek again. “We’ll see you at the cemetery.”

  Clutching Amber’s hand, I say, “I’m ready to go. Give me the keys.”

  “Are we taking the car or the bike?” Amber asks as we head into the fray.

  “Gennaro!” I yell across the lot and toss her keys to him. She gives me a shocked look. “Meet us there!”

  “Absolutely, Raniero!”

  “Dom is taking the Porsche. You are riding bitch.”

  She bites her lip and bunches up her dress as I help her straddle over. I pull off her heels, tossing them in the saddlebag as her eyes dance to mine. “Playing dangerous.”

  “Always.”

  Sliding on, I rev her up and peel out. “You aren’t riding in the hearse…”

  “No,” I say, whipping through the traffic. “I’m not prolonging this public pain any longer than necessary. It’s bad enough they are all following me to the graveside service. Hold on. Here we go.”

  Shifting gears fast, I shoot past the cars and lose everyone as we end up on the backroads. We settle into a comfortable speed, and I remember how much I love this feeling of just being. The wide-open space welcomes my soul, experiencing a freedom I do not commonly find.

  There are only two places where I find this anymore—driving a vehicle and driving into a woman. The first is easy enough, and the method doesn’t matter—car, truck, motorcycle, dirt bike, four-wheeler. The second one is far more difficult to achieve as not every woman offers the same relief. I like this particular woman behind me quite a bit, but this love we have isn’t the stuff of fairytales. We are quiet business partners—regardless of her loyalty to me, I’m still paying her, and I’m okay with that. If Amber Rosen wants to be my dirty whore, I’ll use her just as she is using me.

  That said—she’s really good at taking care of me.

  From the moment I met Amber, I embraced her willingness to be subservient, but Amber doesn’t bend for just anyone. She has chosen me as much as I have her and that is where the fondness, loyalty, and love come into play. She’s—my lover, my mistress, my submissive, my spy, my best friend—my person.

  Amber is not the chosen, and we will never take it further than where we are today, but we find the freedom in not romanticizing us. That isn’t to say I don’t pamper her or place her high on a pedestal, but we will never go to the altar because that will lead our road to ruin. The formality will destroy the beautiful peace we have in one another.

  I think a lot about Jaid and the shit cards her father dealt her and to a lesser extent, my wife. We have a connection, but it’s different from Amber and I. Amber is street smart and quick to draw (and pull the trigger); Jaid is more thought-filled, conniving, and stealthy in her lethal pursuits.

  I'm melancholy at best regarding my wife, swinging like a pendulum in a Texas thunderstorm. One minute, I love and miss her, and the next, I'm glad we're through. The worst part of that though isn't that I'm glad, but that we will never be through. I no longer have her physical presence, but the emotional triggers with her voice in my head are always present. I will never silence her even in death.

  The future on the horizon without Kaci by my side is a gridlocked traffic jam of mazes and labyrinths, for which I have yet to process fully. I know there are little nuggets of gold buried in the wreckage of us, but as I sift through the shattered pieces, I accept that I will cut myself. Blood will drip from my hands. In the worst-case scenario, I step upon a land mine and take a mortal wound. I'll do my best to keep that from occurring by building a trustworthy framework of friends, a mobile fortress to move with me towards our goal.

  With her hands on my shoulders, Amber whispers, “Where are we going?”

  “Someplace.”

  “This part of Sugargrove looks like a ghost town,” she says as I stop the bike under the Harris Road viaduct. “What are we doing?”

  “Fucking.”

  “Now?”

  “Yep, right now,” I demand, leaning against the cement wall and lighting a smoke. “Get over here and suck my dick.”

  “My dress is going to get filthy, and everyone will know.”

  “Take it off,” I snarl, exhaling a cloud. “Trust me. No one comes here but me. And the last time I was here, I fucked my wife. I need to cleanse the zone.”

  Pulling the dress over her head, I smirk. My mistress knows how to get me hard fucking quick—matching black lace bra and panties with a garter belt.

  “Give me your gun and hold on.” I raise a finger as I dangle the smoke in my mouth. Stripping off my jacket, I drop it on the bike and unlock the saddlebag. Depositing the gun, I take out Kaci’s pink and red scarf she wore on our shopping trip in New Orleans. “Kneel on this.”

  “That’s a headscarf. It was Kaci’s!”

  “Kaci is dead and gone, and if you think she wouldn’t support this idea, you are crazy,” I growl, pulling her closer and tucking my fingers into her panties. My fingers touch her clit as she gasps and falls into my touch.

  Pulling away, she kneels. She swiftly drops my fly and hungrily sucks my cock. Gripping the base of my shaft, she takes my sins and purifies me in her holy waters. Amber is my new religion. Her cult-like pull in our private, spiritual devotions urges my devout worship of her body and mind. Her dark, sacred places are where I need to be. They will comfort my heart and make me forget my creator is gone. And when I need it most, Amber will come through with a heart-stopping move of her own. I’m addicted to the drug of her that she hands out like candy.

  “Get up.”

  Spinning her around in my hands, I push her against the wall and tug down her panties. Startled, she gasps at my aggression as we bump and grind. Her smooth skin melts against my hands as her kisses demand more. With my hand on my cock, I rub against her wet, warm hollow. “Fuck me, Sal,” she begs with a needy gaze. “Please.”

  Sinking deep into Amber, I forget everything as we rechristen the spot with our names. We are starting anew, marking our territory, and holding on to one another for all that we are worth. She slicks against my shaft holding nothing back as she rocks against my thrusts.

  “Fuck,” I grumble, pinning her hands and sinking my teeth into her delicate flesh. We are messy and sloppy chasing the orgasmic high. I nip her ear and groan, “Are you going to make me come, bitch?”

  “Yes, Sir,” she cries out. “Again and again and again.”

  “You know I cannot wait to get you someplace private.”

  “Why is that?”

  With a wide smirk, I slow down the pace and soothe, “Because I’m going to blister that ass like never before.”

  “I’ll be waiting,” she whispers as her hands brace against my arms. “My door is open anytime for you. And my legs are spread.”

  “I know.”
Despite my best efforts, the tension aches in my cock, and I’m going to blow much sooner than I want. The desirous friction building between us is more than physical, and I won’t be able to hold on much longer. “That is why you are my girl.”

  “I don’t want that ever to change,” she says as we slow down and look one another in the eye. “Anything you need. And stop thinking you have to pay me or give me things because you don’t. I’ll be yours for nothing.”

  My hand lifts from her hip as my fingers caress over her cheek. “I can’t imagine doing this without you by my side, and my gifts are nothing more than a sign of my gratitude. As much as I hate it, you have to go away because you aren’t safe here.”

  “Please just don’t be mad at me for what I did.”

  “Is this your rebel behavior?” I grin, thrusting slow. “Because God it makes my dick hard.”

  “Probably,” she giggles, blushing. “I’ll do anything to keep you safe.”

  Never have someone’s actions meant as much to me as Amber’s. She brings it—time and time again. And fucking her has never felt so good. There are so many things unsaid between us, but our attraction seals the bond when words fail.

  “Jesus,” I groan, pushing deep as she tilts her head back and closes her eyes. Her hands relax on my shoulders as I consume every bit of energy she gives. We are vampires, feeding off one another. Together, we are building our own monster. What started with Kaci will end with us—the ones we trust and love and celebrate with. It will be a damn good party.

  “Nero,” she whispers, panting. “I’m going to…”

  Before she can finish her sentence, I feel her tighten and grip onto my cock with a long, rolling orgasm. She saturates around me, but I don’t stop as I buck into her hard, thrashing and taking what is rightfully mine.

  Her.

  Amber was my choice in the time when few things were my decision, and fucking her has never been so joyful as I erupt inside of her with a blast of my hot desire. “I’m going to be feeling that for days,” she gloats, smiling.

  “Good,” I snarl, kissing her swollen lips. “Just wait.” I flick my brow and wink.