by Olivia Ryann
I walk her over to the all-glass French doors next to the kitchen, opening them excitedly. I step back and let Fiore see that the rest of the floor is taken up by a charming outdoor patio, including a little lap pool.
“I… I don’t even know what to say…” she gasps, bringing her hands to her mouth. She seems to be at a loss, coming over and hugging me, still awestruck. “Did you rent this?”
I cock my head. “You know I don’t believe in renting. I bought the whole building, with a mind to rent this space out if we move again.”
“Jesus,” she says, walking over to the side of the building and looking down. “It feels like some other city until I look down on the oak trees and the streetcar running up and down the way.”
“That’s only part of the point. Do you like it?” I ask.
“Monster… I absolutely love it,” she says, looking at me with her baby blue eyes. I see a shimmering of tears just starting there. “Really, it’s perfect.”
She goes back indoors. I follow her as she takes it all in, her eyes wide. The front door opens, and I hear nails clicking for a moment before Cerberus makes an appearance, looking as black and curly as ever.
“Cerberus!” she exclaims, kneeling on the floor and hugging the excited puppy. “I’m so glad to see you! Yes, I am. Yes, I am!”
They play for a few minutes before Cerberus starts sniffing around, whining to be let outside. I crack open the door for him, letting him come and go as he wishes.
Fiore hugs me hard after I let Cerberus out. “Thank you.”
I shrug, keeping my reactions casual. I’m glad to see her so delighted by everything, though. The last week has been hard on me, but it’s been rough for her too. I saw it in her eyes, heard it in her voice.
She wipes at her face. “I guess I should see everything, huh?”
When she gets to the bedroom area, a big white curtain hangs by the window. Centered there is a pale pinkish-purple velour bed with crisp white sheets, two light wood bedside tables paired with two matching stainless-steel lamps beside it.
She pauses as her eye catches on the lamp, just the way I intended it to. There is a fine gold collar attached to the base of one of the lamps. There’s a length of finely wrought golden chain snaking up the lamp’s stainless-steel spine.
The very same chain and collar that she found wrapped around her own neck when she awoke at my house in Columbia.
She must feel something because her hand goes to her heart. When she looks back at me, I see that she’s out and out crying.
“I don’t know why that makes me sentimental, but it does,” she laments, wiping her eyes on the back on her hand. “I almost want to tell you to go to hell with all of this. It’s too much, Monster.”
I sidle up to her, putting my arm around her. “Come test out the bed with me.”
She gives a choked laugh. “You would say that, wouldn’t you?”
I draw her over to the bed, falling onto the mattress. Fiore catches sight of the collar again and starts crying anew. I don’t mind. I expected her to react emotionally, though I wasn’t sure which emotion she would feel. I also didn’t expect her to react so much, honestly.
So, I’m happy to hold her for a bit, letting her cry all over my white dress shirt. As I lie there, my right foot falling asleep because I don’t want to shift her into a different position, it suddenly becomes startlingly clear to me.
I love this girl. I must if she is so dear to me that I would go through any measure of discomfort for her sake.
Glancing at her messy blonde hair and puffy eyes, all I want to do is smile. That and cheer her up, so I can ravage her. The ache that I feel is with both my heart and my libido; I want her, as I have never wanted anyone before.
I want her love. I want her company. I want all her time; with her smiles, and her tears. I want to always look over and find her there, right by my side.
I fucking love her.
That’s not what comes out of my mouth when I try to say something to her, though. I clear my throat. She looks up.
“Arsen,” I say gruffly. “That’s my first name.”
Wiping away an errant tear, she smiles gently. “I know.”
How long has she known, I wonder? Shrugging uncomfortably, I say, “You can use it if you want.”
She gives me a knowing look. “I may if the situation warrants it. But I find I’m quite fond of Monster. Aren’t you?”
My lips lift a little. “Yes, I suppose I am.”
She settles on my chest again. For a while, we’re both quiet. I’m wondering how she knew my name. Did one of my brothers tell her? It seems likely.
She looks up at me, hesitating. When she speaks, her voice is almost too soft to hear. “I know about Anna too.”
My eyebrows shoot up. I slide out from under her, needing a little space to breathe. “What? How?”
She bites her lower lip, glancing down at the bedspread. “I saw a picture of you two together. Then later, your brother told me about her. I put the pieces together.”
I stand up, pacing to the window. “And what pieces did you put together, exactly?”
She doesn’t look up. “I know… I know you cared for her.” She hesitates again. “I know we have some of the same features, somehow. She looked like me, in the picture I saw. And… I know that she died. Died horribly, from what I heard.”
My fists clench. I turn back toward her, gritting my teeth. “That won’t happen to you, Fiore. Anna’s death was my fault, but—”
For the first time since I’ve known her, she interrupts.
“It wasn’t your fault unless you killed her,” she says, picking at the comforter beneath her body.
I stride over to her, tilting her chin to look up at me. “I swear, I didn’t.”
She shrugs, not resisting. “Then you didn’t kill her. I don’t want to hear you say you did, ever again. You can take responsibility for plenty, but not that.”
I kiss her, pushing her back on the bed. Foolish little girl, trying to absolve me of all my sins. I’d teach her otherwise, someday.
Not tonight, though. Tonight, I will just be lost in Fiore. That’s enough, for now.
16
Fiore
I walk around a big display table, feeling the different weights of the sweaters. This is one of those froufrou stores that basically has the industrial vibe of my loft, but with many tables of expensive jeans and sweaters that are incredibly soft to the touch. I’m aware of my bodyguard walking too closely behind me. A new guy named Elian.
I turn, a smile plastered on my face. “Do you mind not being quite so close?”
Elian just shrugs his big, muscular shoulders. “Mr. Aetós wants you to be safe.”
I lose my patience. “I promise, you can keep me safe from four feet further away from me.”
A tall figure steps into the store. I look over to find Dryas, looking pleased. “Did I just interrupt you having a little hissy fit, my darling?”
I go cold all over, my temper flare forgotten. Dryas showing up here is a distinct threat, otherwise, he would’ve turned up when Monster was around.
I look at Elian, beginning to feel sweat break out across my temple. “We need to go.”
“Uh, uh, uh, not so fast!” Dryas says, putting his hands up. “I just came to talk. I promise.”
Elian moves toward Dryas with an angry grunt, spreading himself out as tall and broad as he can make himself. Dryas isn’t worried. He pulls back his jacket, showing that he has a gun in his holster.
“Don’t fuck with me,” he says levelly, looking first at Elian and then at me. “If I was here to do something violent, I would’ve already done it. As I said, I’m here to talk.”
Though I’m suspicious, I don’t want Dryas to pull a weapon in here. This little shop is not ready for what would happen thereafter, I don’t think. “Elian, it’s okay. Just stay right here, so I can shop.”
The smug look on Dryas’s face makes me grit my teeth. He smiles at me. “
That’s a good girl. Are you always so obedient?”
I put my nose in the air, turning away. I pick up a pair of jeans, checking out the wash. “Why are you here, Dryas?”
“Arsen called a meeting of the three brothers later today. He has some news, apparently. Do you know what sort of news he has?”
I refold the jeans, perusing the stacks of t-shirts instead. “I am certain I have no idea. If you’re worried, you should be talking to him.”
Dryas clicks his tongue. “I think that he’s about to announce that he’s going to cede New Orleans to one of us, in order to keep his pretty new bride to be happy and healthy. What do you think about that?”
I pause, my hands gripping a t-shirt. I still don’t look at Dryas, though. “I hate to repeat myself, Dryas. I have no idea about what Arsen has planned.”
His smile thins. “No? Well, no matter. I’m here to make an offer.”
I roll my eyes, heading to another table of cosmetics and perfumes. “I can’t imagine what you would offer that would tempt me.”
“Make the bodyguard back off, and I will tell you.”
I look at Dryas. I don’t see any signs of deception on his face. What could it hurt? I sigh, turning to my bodyguard. “Elian? Stand by the front door, please. Don’t make a scene, and we’ll be on our own much faster.”
The big bodyguard doesn’t emote. He just thinks for a second, then turns and heads to the front door. It’s only fifty feet away, so I feel safe still. I keep on moving, circulating amongst the tables.
Dryas just follows me, persistent. It’s like have a tall, menacing shadow. “I’d offer you a great deal of money. A new name. A new life, somewhere far away from here. All you would have to do is disappear. Leave and be gone without a trace. With my help, of course.”
I glance at him, my brow scrunching. “What? Why?”
He sighs, reaching over to pick up a silver powder compact. “Because. I have a plan for my brother, and you don’t factor into the equation. My plans are bigger and better, but they don’t include someone for him to worry about. It’s essential to my plans that Arsen doesn’t have…”
He pauses, searching for the right words.
“What, anyone to live for?” I say. I don’t bother to hide the sarcasm in my tone.
Dryas looks at me like he would look at a pervasive insect of some kind. Something to be gotten rid of, not something to consider as a part of Arsen’s life.
Then again, seeing how I came into Arsen’s life originally, can I really blame him?
“Any attachments,” he says, finishing his thought. “And you are the very definition of an attachment, even if you’re not willing to be sold again. So, I figure that if it’s not a man you really crave, it must be freedom.”
I snort. “And that’s what you’re offering me, huh? Freedom?”
He shrugs. “Of a sort. You can go anywhere outside the places where the Aetós brothers have strongholds. Do anything you like or nothing at all. You’ll have the means to be anyone, as long as you keep your profile low.” He pauses, then adds, “And you’ll keep our agreement secret, of course.”
I allow myself to imagine it, just for a second. It’s silly, but I picture myself in Morocco, dressed in a loose flowing caftan and exploring ancient ruins. I can almost feel the sun on my face, feel the desert winds at my back as I walk through the desert landscape.
My lips twist. I would have to leave Monster behind for any type of arrangement to be made… and I don’t think I can do it. Besides, if Monster is really going to announce that he’s giving up New Orleans, we could possibly go to Morocco together.
Or any damn place we want to go, honestly.
I turn to Dryas. “I don’t think so.”
His expression darkens. His hand snakes out, catching my wrist. His fingers squeeze my flesh uncomfortably tight. “Is that right? That’s too bad.”
I try to shake him off, frowning. “Only from your perspective. Let me go.”
Instead of letting me go, he draws me closer, grabbing my chin. His grip is bruising, punishing. “You’re a stupid little girl, meddling in affairs you don’t even understand. My brother cannot leave New Orleans. Do you hear me?”
His raised voice draws Elian, who comes at a run. He’s not fast enough for Dryas, though. Dryas pushes his mouth upon mine, holding my chin. His lips bruise mine. I try to push him off of me, but I’m ineffectual against him.
He releases me and steps back just as Elian reaches us. He puts his hands up in surrender, his mouth quirking up just like Monster’s does when he’s being bad. He stares at me, never breaking eye contact with me though he addresses my bodyguard.
“Okay, okay,” he says as Elian jostles him. “Listen, I’m going. I’m going, okay?”
Elian grabs Dryas and hustles him out of the store. I’m left shaking, assuring the store’s lone sales associate that I am perfectly okay. And I am, though I’m determined not to see Dryas again.
It’s one thing for him to call me names, it’s quite another for him to lay his hands on me and kiss me. That’s over the line, whether Monster thinks it’s okay or not.
I clear my throat and continue with my shopping, determined not to let Dryas ruin my day. I go to a few more stores, though I don’t buy anything.
Then as I’m about to get back into the SUV, I see the drug store. Although I’m not sure what can be done for bruises, I’m interested in looking. Maybe there’s something new that will take the bruises away from my lips and jaw, and maybe my wrist too.
I head down the brightly lit aisles of the convenience store, browsing as much as anything. While there isn’t anything new for bruises, I do grab a couple of shades of makeup. That should cover some of it, anyway.
Then I head to the register, stopping short when I reach the feminine hygiene aisle. I should need tampons. Actually, I should’ve needed tampons a month ago.
How insane has my life been that I am standing in the drug store, trying to calculate when my last period was?
I grab some tampons, hesitating. My eyes swivel left, unwillingly looking for the pregnancy tests. I grab a couple of them, hurrying to the register. I bury them at the bottom of my pile of purchases, going red as the bored-looking cashier scans them.
Once I’m at home, I stash the pregnancy tests under the bathroom sink, all the way in the back under the cleaning supplies. I tell myself that I don’t need to take a test if I get my period in the next few days.
Two hours later though, I am back in the bathroom, pulling one of the tests out. I flip to the back of the box, reading the instructions. They’re pretty basic.
Urinate on the test stick. Wait two minutes. Check for a plus sign or a minus sign on said stick.
I lean against the bathroom vanity and stare at the test, telling myself it will be okay. The test is going to be negative, and I will laugh about this later. And never, ever tell Monster.
I don’t know what his reaction would be, exactly… but I know I’m definitely supposed to… I don’t know… prevent these kinds of things from happening. In some way, or another, even though I don’t exactly know which way would’ve been available to me before he let me come with him to New Orleans.
Then I get a flash of Monster’s face when he eventually finds out that I’m pregnant. Because he would find out, and he would be pissed. Twisted with fury and black with rage, his imagined face scares me.
Biting my lip, I know I just need to take the damned test. I’m stringing myself along for some reason, drawing out my anticipation. I pee on the stick, waiting the whole painful two minutes. I rest the test on the vanity, and I sit on the edge of the toilet seat.
In my head, I’m already scolding myself for not having figured out birth control before now. I mean, I was definitely a virgin when Monster bought me… but still, I know some things.
I know that condoms are a thing. But trying to imagine Monster’s face after I suggest using them doesn’t really bode well. That leaves me with… what, the pill?
Crap, it’s been two minutes. I stand and look at the test. I see a little + sign and my heartbeat starts racing.
Pregnant.
It’s not possible, not in the least.
My eyes start to mist over, even though I’m sure that the test is wrong. With shaking hands, I pull out a second test. I take it, pacing anxiously.
Thinking about how badly I will be beaten when I tell Monster my news. Even if I don’t tell him today, he will figure it out eventually. It’s one of those medical ailments that you can’t really hide for long.
When the second test tells me the same thing as the first, I smash it to the floor, letting out a wail.
Pregnant.
How?
How could it be possible? I can only barely take care of myself. I’m not only worried about being too young, but I’m also anxious because I have so little control over my entire life. I know nothing about babies… and I’ve only just convinced Monster not to kill me.
What am I going to do now?
Sinking to the floor, I cover my face and sob.
17
Arsen
I head up the elevator to the apartment, holding a couple of wine bottles under one arm. I’m in a good mood. One of the mid-level, Salvadorian dealers has been quite chatty while under duress. I’m hunting that piece of shit Arturo to the ground, burning every place he could be hiding.
I think within this week I’ll have him in hand. That fact makes me smile.
It also makes me realize that I’ve been home very little this whole week. Which in turn make me homesick. Actually, it just makes me long for Fiore’s touch.
The apartment itself, I could do without. It’s just to please Fiore if I’m honest with myself.
And that is what I’m about to do… please Fiore, in a different way. I can imagine her breathy sighs of pleasure, as I nod to the guard at the front door.
Inside, I can’t find her anywhere at first glance. It’s only once I venture to put down the wine in the kitchen, that I spot her way out on the terrace, looking down at the street below. Frowning, I open the French doors.
