“Listen, Mr. Camarena, I know you hate me.” I eye both of his fists on me and it doesn’t look like they’re letting go anytime soon. “Believe me, I get how you feel. You’ve never really tried to hide it, just saying.” He pulls me closer by my coat, gritting his teeth. “Sorry, I’m not trying to be a smartass or anything. I’m just telling you I could always sense your hatred of me. It’s pretty strong right now. Like, stronger than the Force.”
He pushes me away, letting go of my coat. I straighten myself out and rake a hand through my hair.
“You’re not good enough for my daughter. You never cared about her feelings, and I don’t want her involved with your lifestyle. You think I don’t know who you really are?” He points to his own chest. “I know better than anyone because I used to be just like you.” He inches toward me. “Yeah, me. How about that? But you know something? I realized it wasn’t worth losing everything that was important to me and I got out before I couldn’t. Are you smart enough to do that, Max? Because if you’re not, then stay the hell away from my daughter.”
“You have to trust me, Mr. C. Can I call you that?”
He actually snarls a response.
“Um, okay, Mr. Camarena. Please believe me when I say I’d never do anything to hurt Sloane. She’s an amazing girl, but you obviously already know that. I will never put her in danger.”
“You can’t make that promise. You know it as well as I do.”
“I will make that promise. Right now.” Even though he’s right. He knows what always comes first. I do, too, but these days, she’s winning out. And that puts my head on a chopping block.
Sloane
My legs still feel like Jell-O, and damn, it feels amazing to just lie here on my bed and replay every single salacious detail over and over in my mind. I glance at the clock and groan. I have to get up and work on my speech. I’m lucky that they’re even giving me time to promote The Buddy System. And that’s only because of all the positive feedback that the hospital administrators have been receiving from the children’s families. It makes me so incredibly happy to know how much good we’re doing, and I know we can do more if we only had more money. The hospital has been great about providing cash for toys and events we’ve held for the kids, and I’ve used some of my own money, too. Anything to make the kids smile.
But realistically, I can’t exactly bankrupt myself trying to keep this program running, no matter how much I believe in it.
I wish Mom had gotten this kind of support when she was sick. Maybe that’s why I keep pouring so much into it. If my work can help any of the people dealing with cancer…or any horrible disease…it’s worth it. I’d rather do without than see these kids suffer alone. Their families aren’t always able to dedicate twenty-four hours a day to them, and that’s where we fill in the gaps, to make sure they never feel alone or without a shoulder to cry on.
I roll off of my bed, burying my face deep into my Max-scented pillow before my feet actually hit the carpet. I stretch my arms overhead and crack my back. Oh, that feels good. There’s a tiny fluttering sensation in my belly that keeps the smile plastered on my face. I pass my mirror on the way to my closet and my cheeks are still flushed pink. My hair is all sexed-up and I have some stubble scratches on the sides of my face and neck.
Oh God, I hope my dad doesn’t decide to pop over here right now.
A loud knock sends me jumping into the air.
Argh! I hug my arms around my chest, my eyes darting around my room for sweats I can throw on. Nothing! Dammit! Do I have to be so organized all the time?
I yank open my closet and grab an oversized sweatshirt and pull it on. My pajama pants are hanging over a chair so I grab them and stuff my legs into them before running toward the front door.
“Coming!” I jog through the kitchen, stumbling over a corner of an area rug. I land right against the door with a loud thud. Jesus, I’m going to put myself into traction, and the worst part about that would be my inability to have sex with Max for weeks on end.
Lack of sex. That’s what comes to mind. Not a broken bone or cracked skull.
I’m hopeless.
I adjust myself and pull open the door. Please don’t be Dad, please don’t be Dad…
“Good morning!” I let out the breath I’ve been holding when I see Shaye’s bright smile in the doorway. She holds out a hot cup from Starbucks, and I gasp.
“You brought me coffee?”
“Not just any coffee. A grande mocha flat white with two sugars.” She winks. “I love that you use real sugar. It’s so you, you know?”
I furrow my brow and take the cup. “Why would I want to put that other poison into my body?”
“Because it’s fewer calories.” Shaye shakes her head and pushes past me. “While you ponder that, I’m just going to wait in here for you. It’s freezing out! And why do you look like you’ve just woken up?” She sniffs the air and spins around toward me. “Oh Lord. My brother has been here, hasn’t he?”
I can’t stop the smile from spreading across my face. “You’re like a bloodhound, you know that?”
She giggles. “I tell Nico he’s totally screwed if he ever tries to cheat on me. With my nose, he’d be dead and buried before he could even take a shower.”
“Think he knew what he was getting into when he snagged you?”
She cocks an eyebrow. “He certainly knows now, doesn’t he?”
I take a sip of the hot drink and let out a moan. “Oh, so good.” I pull her over to the couch and collapse onto it, not wanting to lose the fluttery feeling in my gut.
Shaye sinks down next to me. “Okay, so tell. What’s going on?”
I shrug, but the silly smile never wavers. “I don’t know. He met me after my shift and took me to breakfast.” For a second, my mind drifts from the fork incident to the little sex fest that took place once we got back here. I think I’d prefer to think about that—the bathroom sink, the shower, the bedroom…those places hold much better memories than that diner does.
“Seems like you got way more than food out of the deal,” Shaye says, then smacks a hand to her forehead. “Ah, yep. There’s the mental image I don’t want to see. I can’t have this conversation with you right now. I just ate.”
I giggle and take another sip of my coffee. “Trust me, it’s not like I plan on sharing any details with you. I’ll just keep you guessing, especially about where it happened.” I turn my gaze to the place on the couch where she sits, flashing a mischievous smile, and she springs up from her spot.
“Where you…oh my God, Sloane! Are you serious?”
My giggle turns into full-fledged laughter. “Gotcha! Nothing happened out here. I was just messing with you.”
Her eyes narrow, and she flings a throw pillow at my head. “Please! I’m trying to block those images!”
“You’ve been trying to set us up for years. Did you think we’d just be holding hands?”
Shaye stops, a knowing smile on her face. “So you are together.”
I tug on my hair. “Well, kind of. I guess.”
She sinks back down next to me. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“We’re spending time together, you know, doing stuff. More than just that though,” I quickly shout once she claps her hands over her ears.
She lowers them, eyes narrowed as if she expects to hear more she doesn’t want to acknowledge. I don’t have a sibling so I can’t imagine how disgusting it is to envision them riding my best friend.
“I really care about him, Shaye. But I’m nervous. He’s so complicated—the things he does, things he says. Sometimes I wonder if he can be this guy, the one who can deal with being in a relationship.” I bite my lower lip. “And there’s other stuff, too.”
“Like?”
“Like his work. The things he does. Places he goes. People he deals with. He won’t talk about any of it, and it scares me sometimes.”
She drops her eyes and starts picking at her cuticles. “He’s always been shut dow
n about his work.”
“Yes, but am I really supposed to just deal with his evasiveness? He keeps me in the dark about it all. Like this morning.”
Her eyes float back to mine. “What happened this morning?”
I explain his swift change from sweet Max into thug Max when Gianni showed up at our table. “He just became a completely different person within seconds. He was ready to maim with that fork. I’ve never seen him like that at all. It freaked me the hell out.” I shake my head and let it fall into my hands. “But, my God, he has this sick hold on me. And it’s only until I see that other side that I even think about breaking free.”
Shaye nods. “You know, I’ve never seen him try to be normal with a girl.”
I snort. “That’s an interesting way to put it.” I know this is Shaye’s way of deflecting my veiled comments about what Max actually does. She’s done it for as long as I can remember, and she’s damn good at it. She’s never given me any indication she knows what he’s all about. What any of them are all about, for that matter. And I know she’s not nearly as ignorant as she’d like me to think.
“I’m serious. He’s not exactly the type of put on airs. You get what you get with Max Oriani. But with you, I don’t know. Sometimes, it’s like he’s a different person. I see a side I didn’t actually know he had.” She smiles. “Maybe you bring that out of him.”
“Maybe he doesn’t like that, though.”
“Or maybe it’s a nice change for him.”
“I just wonder if things can really work out between us.” I cover my face with my hands. “Jeez, why am I even saying this stuff? It’s not like he’s proposed marriage or anything. I mean, it’s not even a thing. Are we friends? More than friends? I kind of think it’s more, but I wouldn’t assume that I’m his girlfriend or anything.”
“Have you asked him about it?”
I roll my eyes at Shaye. “Come on, are we in eighth grade? ‘Um, Max, will you be my boyfriend?’ How lame is that?”
“Well, if you really want to know where things stand, ask the damn question, girl!”
I snicker and hold up my hands to block the next pillow hurled in my direction. “Part of me is afraid to know the answer. I’m really into him, Shaye. I don’t want to get hurt, and I don’t want to ask the question and put him in a corner if he’s not ready to go down that path, you know? Plus, there’s just so much I don’t know about him. He gives me a little here and there, but then shuts down for a lot of the big stuff.”
“Like fork-slashing type big stuff?”
“Yes.” I swallow hard. “You know, I’m not exactly living under a rock here. I can see things more clearly than you guys think.”
Shaye shrugs and is back to examining her nails. “What are you talking about? See what clearly?”
“The work Max does, what Nico does, his family, your family, all of those short, thuggy, Italian guys who are always hanging around…” I cock an eyebrow.
“I have no idea where you’re going with this.” Her eyes crinkle at the corners. “But the short comment is a little bit judgey. I mean, you’re like ten feet tall, so are they really that short?”
I throw my hands into the air. “You’re totally deflecting! I’m not stupid! I’ve seen The Sopranos! I know all about the…” My voice drops. “Mafia,” I whisper.
Shaye lets out a loud giggle. “Who knew you had enough time on your hands to even think about this stuff? You might be seriously sleep deprived, though.”
“I am not sleep deprived! I just want to know what I’m up against. And don’t think I can’t see that you’ve been checked out lately. That whole thing with Mr. Salesi and then the break-in at Nico’s…I’m your best friend, and I feel like you don’t tell me anything! I know there’s some serious shit going on. Don’t you trust me enough to talk to me?”
She puts her hand over mine and slides next to me on the couch. “Sloane, listen. You’re my best friend in the world. I would never want to see you in danger. Do you really think I’d watch from the sidelines if I thought being with my brother would hurt you?”
“Is that what Nico promised you when you guys started dating? That you’d never be in danger? Did you believe him? Did you think that night would have ever happened?”
“Listen,” she says, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “What happened to Mr. Salesi was a horrible accident, a hit and run, just like the police said. And the break-in? It was a guy Nico used to work with who was hopped up on some crazy drugs. He claimed Nico owed him money because he was so strung out and needed cash to keep up his habit. Yes, it was dangerous and scary, but he’s not a threat anymore.”
“Because you killed him!” I clutch the sides of my head. “Do you know how hard it is to get my arms around that? How did you even know how to fire the gun?”
She shrugs. “I guess in the heat of the moment, you just do. You don’t think. It was self-defense. I did what I had to do.” A sigh deflates her shoulders. “I still have nightmares about that night.”
I pull her in for a quick hug. “I can only imagine. But that’s because you’ve never actually talked to me about it, even though I’ve always been here for you, hoping you’d open up about it.”
She gives me a tight squeeze. “There are things I just don’t like to talk about because they unleash memories I want to keep buried. That’s all. Don’t ever think it’s because I don’t want to open up to you.”
“I just get nervous, for all of you. Sometimes I feel like I could deal with it better if I actually knew what I was dealing with.”
“They work normal jobs. It’s just that they deal with some not-so-nice people in the process. People could go postal at any job, you know? There are never any guarantees. Hell, one day I may become a therapist to someone who decides he doesn’t like my analyses and comes into my office to blow off my head. Shit happens, babe. Anywhere and anytime, no matter what business you’re in. The question is, are you ready to deal with it when it does? And those guys? They’re always prepared.”
“Boy Scouts of the Underworld.” I nod. “That makes me feel so much better.”
“It’s just to give you some perspective. As for me, I’m dealing with things.” She rubs her head. “A lot of things, not just with Nico. My dad…he’s just been so off lately. He snaps at anything and everything, and if Max is around, forget it.”
My gut clenches at the thought of Tony attacking Max. Lord knows, I’ve witnessed it plenty of times in the past, but this time, it’s different. I feel more protective of him now. “Do you have any idea why?”
She shakes her head. “I’ve tried talking to him about it, but he just shuts down. He’s even been really abrupt with my mom, which never happens. I know things at work haven’t been fantastic, but at least he’s got a job and makes good money. I’m not sure where all of the stress is coming from.”
Anger bubbles in my veins when I think about Max going to his parents’ house and getting pummeled by Tony’s toxic tirades. It aggravates me even more now that I’ve spoken to Max about it. I see how it affects him. He’d always just blow it off, but you can only do that for so long. The scars on his chest are nothing compared to the ones Tony has inflicted on his heart over the years. “Everybody has stress. That’s just life. It doesn’t mean you have to take it all out on everyone.”
Shaye furrows her brows at me. I guess I let a little bit of that anger out in my words. “I just know how much it bothers Max, that’s all.”
She nods and a smile lifts her glossy lips. “Because you looooooove him. Admit it, Sloaney-baloney! You’re in love with my brother. Every single time his name comes up, this wide-eyed, puppy dog look of utter adoration flashes over your face. Don’t get me wrong, it’s cute as hell to see you like this. About time, too.”
A deep red flush heats my cheeks, and my hands fly to my face. “Cut it out. I’m not in love.”
“Oh, yeah? Then stop getting that dreamy look in your eye every time I mention his name. Max! See? That’s the o
ne I’m talking about.” She grins, pushing her face into mine. “Max, Max, Max!”
I tumble backward on the couch in a fit of giggles, my eyes squeezed shut.
“You can’t hide it from me! I’m an extremely perceptive person, lady!” She leans over me, shouting into my face.
I cover my face with my hands. “Why are you attacking me like this?” I rasp, still breathless from the laughter. “What’s the difference whether or not I love him?”
She starts tickling my sides, digging her fingertips into my stomach, which she knows will get me to do anything she says. “Because I just want to know. Tell me!”
“Ahh!” My breaths are so sharp, sounding more like gasps with every second that passes. My belly heaves as the hysterics take hold. “S-stooooop! I can’t b-breeeeeathe!”
“Say it!”
“Okaaaaaaay!”
She straightens up and wiggles her fingers in the air. “Don’t get excited. It’s a quick pause. Speak!”
I take a deep breath, filling my lungs once again. Damn, oxygen is nice. I have a clear path to Shaye’s left which will get me into my bedroom, door locked, before she can leap at me again. No doubt she’ll try, too. “I…I…” I jump off the couch and crouch low, dashing past her and around the couch. A few more steps and I’m home free. Literally.
I shut the door behind me and lock it.
She lets out a loud huff and flips on the television. “I really don’t understand why you can’t just answer the question. Now get dressed. I made you a special appointment, and we’re going to be late.”
I rake a brush through my long hair and throw it into a ponytail. “Where are we going?” I call out.
Her voice gets louder as she approaches my bedroom door. “Tonight is a big night for you. I want to make sure you look absolutely perfect when you give that speech.”
I crack open the door. “Um, what exactly does that mean? Are you going to try to stick me in another one of your Saran Wrap dresses? Because it’s really not that kind of an event, you know.”
She snickers. “I’m talking about your hair.” She peers at it. “Although I can see you finally washed it. Good girl. That’s half the battle right there.”
Betraying the Mob (The Mob Lust Series Book 3) Page 13
