Rage

Chapter 4

Chapter Four

“When in doubt, drink more coffee. What can go wrong?”

Anna

I am way too early, but I couldn’t sit still and watch the clock anymore and if I just went to the coffee shop I could get in at least one cup before he gets there. The warm caress of the coffee will calm my nerves. My mind wanders as I walk through the streets to see the shop around the corner. I don’t see anything out of the ordinary or any dangerous men as I complete the walk from my apartment. The last steps into the coffee shop bring peace to my soul. The only other place that has ever brought me hope is the library where I could find heat, escape, and adventure no matter how little funds I had. Smelling the warm beans and fresh pastries wafting around the space, I feel some of my anxiety dissipate.

My head turns as the door jingles while other patrons enter the shop, but I am looking to see the man who brought me to life. The barista takes my coffee order and is kind enough not to comment on my obvious reaction at the door. Once I finish ordering a white chocolate mocha with caramel and whole milk, I pay with cash before waiting on the other end of the coffee bar for my drink. I can see the door from where I stand and my body vibrates with the violent combination of hope and anger.

“Anna,” the barista calls out from behind the counter before setting down my drink and turning back toward the coffee station. I pick up the warm cup and find my way to a table in the corner where I have a clear view of the door. After I sit down I reach into my bag, pull out the vampire book that I have been reading, and pretend not to be bothered while I wait for him. The jangle of the bells catches my attention and my heart stops beating when I see him. Our eyes lock and the corner of his lip rises in a small smile. I am so fucked.

He takes strides toward me and signals with his hands for his guards to stay behind, near the exit. With each step he takes he gets closer to me and it feels like the connection between us strengthens when we are in the room together. The rest of the room blurs and he is the only thing that I can focus on. When he reaches the table, he stops, stands before the seat, and looks up at me.

“Is this seat taken, Lilac?” he asks me with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.

The lump in my throat prevents my verbal response from coming out, so I nod instead. I watch him take a seat and scoot his chair closer to me so we can talk without needing to project our voices across the table and over the ambient sound. To stall and find my voice I take another drink of my coffee and then put my receipt in my book as a bookmark before putting the book back in my bag.

“You asked to see me and have a chance to explain. I am here and ready to listen,” I tell him as I reinforce my spine and remember that he is married. Before he has an opportunity to speak, one of his guards appears at our table with a plate of pastries and a coffee for Aldo.

“Thank you, Enzo. Did you do what I asked?” he inquires with an even tone and quizzical expression. Enzo looks at him, smiling, and nods before taking a seat near the door to give us privacy. The baristas come out and go from table to table talking quietly to the patrons. Once they visit every table, they turn off the open sign and lock the door so it can only be opened from the inside. My jaw falls open in utter disbelief; this man just cleared out my favorite coffee shop so we could sit alone.

“Don’t worry beautiful, the patrons were all compensated with coffee cards to take their drinks to-go. The staff and owner have been duly compensated for any losses they would suffer from shutting down early. I know you care about this place and I wouldn’t want our meeting to affect your daily life negatively,” he says to me and reaches out his hand offering for me to take it but not forcing me. Fear courses through my veins as indecision racks my system. I promised him a chance to explain but not a chance to touch me, so I gently decline by lacing my hands together in front of me. His face shows his disappointment for only a moment before he moves his hand and nods in acceptance.

“Let me start with the fact that I want to apologize for making you feel deceived. I only ask that you let me finish explaining before you leave. If you decide then that you never want to see me again, I will respect that.” Aldo looks over my face, watching me take him in and all of his words as they sink into my being.

“I can do that but I may have questions, do you prefer that I ask them all at the end?” I inquire, as I grab the notepad and pen from my bag and flip to the ribbon marking my available page.

“I would prefer that the questions wait until the end and then I will answer them, but I need to know if you want me to glaze over the darker side of what I do. I will give you full transparency if you want it, but sometimes the truth is a lot to mentally handle. I am not a good man, Lilac. I am not a good man to the world but I promise that I can be a man deserving of you.” His words spill out with sincerity and melt my heart and some of my resolve.

“I will take it all but if it becomes too much, can I have a safeword? I am a nurse in the local hospital here and I know that there is a lot of violence in this city and that you play your part, but I might struggle to reconcile the man in front of me with the violence that you participate in,” I ask, hoping for honesty but not sure that I am ready for the utter violence that the man in front of me can inflict.

“We will use the stoplight system. Green if you are comfortable, yellow if you want to slow down, and red if you want to stop. Please understand that your boundaries are very important, and I will not know them all as we start and I need you to communicate them to me. I promise that I won’t push back. I might ask questions to understand, but you are in control. I might run a tight ship with my work but we do everything here with your informed consent,” he answers earnestly without breaking eye contact with me.

“Okay, thank you. I’m ready,” I say, taking another drink of my coffee and grabbing a cheese danish from the plate between us. The first bite passes my lips and the burst of sweet and savory causes me to moan. Fuck. That was not planned. The way that his fist clenches tells me that he isn't unaffected by my visceral reaction.

“Sorry,” I whisper as the blush creeps up my neck, encompassing my face. My shame causes me to look down and avoid eye contact to prevent further embarrassment.

“Look at me,” he asks me with a softer tone in his voice. I take a shaky breath and find my courage before looking up to meet his eyes.

“You do not have to apologize for the way your body reacts. You do not need to be ashamed of the beautiful noises that you make.” He speaks softly before reaching over to provide comfort, stopping inches from my knee and looking at me waiting for my consent. I nod, allowing him to touch me for the first time since our kiss, and the reaction that sparks through my entire being is unmatched. My shoulders fall for the first time since I walked in and I am ready to hear whatever he has to tell me.