Chapter 8
CHAPTER 8
ALISON
A fter forcing myself off the bed and out of those thoughts, I jumped in the shower, hoping the warm water could both soothe my muscles and wash away this new unwelcome feeling of emptiness.
It did neither if I was honest, even as I insisted, standing there long after my fingers had pruned.
Jackson was just fun, right? Why was I feeling like I wanted him to stay for longer? Why was I feeling like maybe he was a mistake?
I didn’t want a relationship, right? I’d never been in one before.
Aside from Jackson and two guys in college, I hadn’t explored the option. I hadn’t found anyone alluring enough to spike a real interest in something more than just a hookup.
I’d managed to keep my first time out of my head ever since Max left me sleeping alone in his bed with a cold, cue note to leave, like a cheap hookup he never wanted to set eyes on again.
And fair enough, he didn’t lay eyes on me for long after. I didn’t need the humiliation, and after that solo walk of shame, I did my best to forget the whole night. It proved harder than I wished, given that it was my first time and all. Now every damn year, my birthday is a harsh reminder that I gave myself away to someone who didn’t even have the decency to have a jug of coffee brewing the morning after plucking the remains of my innocence.
I went back to college, and even after coming back and starting my job at my father's company, Max made it his mission to stay out of sight. Until he didn’t. Until he was every-damn-where.
Stupidly enough, my idiotic brain kept score of every man I’d slept with, comparing them to that first experience. I wasn’t so innocent as to deny it had left its mark on me.
I brushed it off as infatuation with the mystery I made him up to be in my head. The alluring new and shiny soldier. But he wasn’t so new now, and somehow, he still made my head spin every time he stood that close to me.
And I hated admitting to that.
I got out of the shower, wrapping myself in a towel before wiping the condensation off the mirror, just enough to see a semblance of my reflection looking right back at me, waiting for the pep talk that was growing in my gut, impatient to come out, and too eager to slap me hard across the face.
Get a freaking grip, Alison! It’s not like it’s the first time in your life you’re feeling lonely. Carpe Diem, Alison.
It wasn’t like I was an abandoned puppy with no love. But lately, all of it felt frivolous. Shallow and lacking.
Maybe I was finally craving what my brother had. Companionship. Love. Reverence. Even Matt had that, only to throw it to the wind, but I still had hopes for him in the end. Francesca loved him, and Matt? He’d do anything for his mafia queen.
With that thought on my mind, I decided to call Francesca, as Max had asked me to. I was sure she was in need of a friendly shoulder, much more than I was.
Francesca Amato was Matt’s ex-wife, but I loved her like a sister. It was a marriage of convenience, but it soon changed to something more, but my thick and arrogant big brother made sure he fucked that up.
The dumbhead divorced her to give her the dream of a lifetime. But things change, dreams change, as do aspirations. Hers had changed, too, because now she loved him back.
In two days, she would be back in New York, attending the meeting that would ultimately change her life forever, or so we hoped. She would become the first Donna. The first woman head of a Mafiosi family in history. There’s a reason why they called themselves Men of Honor, because that’s all there was. Men. Men who thought with their dicks, egos, and the tip of their guns.
Coming back couldn’t be something easy for her right now, so helping her through it was a priority.
Fuck my existential crises. That can wait.
I dried myself off and wrapped the towel around me again before sitting on my bed and calling her. The last time I had spoken to Francesca was two weeks ago, and to say she was a shell of a person was an understatement. I shot her a text every day. Most of them wouldn’t get a reply, but her uncle was kind enough to keep me updated, letting Jamie and me know just how she was doing.
“Hey! You answered. How are you doing?” I chimed into the phone as soon as Francesca picked up my call.
“Surviving. How are you?” She replied in a strained tone. I could feel the pain in her voice, even after almost a month had passed since the dreadful day when Matt gave her the divorce papers. I was sure having to face him again wasn’t an easy thing .
“Fine, I guess. I heard you were arriving in New York in two days? Will you have any time to spare for a girl’s night out? I’m sure we can at least help lift your spirits.”
“I always have time for you and Jamie. That will be the highlight of this miserable trip.” She released a pained sigh that made my heart ache for her even further. “I am so not looking forward to this, Alison.”
“I know! I still can’t believe everything that happened. But you know I’m here for you, right?” I tried to reassure her. I could only imagine the hell that was going through her head and the storm that was going through her heart.
“I know, thank you. But I don’t think I can do this. I’m not ready to face him yet. I still love him, Alison, and I’m scared I’m going to break all over again once I set eyes on him. I’ve just managed to get back on my feet, even if just barely. I… I just can’t do this.”
This didn’t even seem like the Francesca I knew talking.
“Francesca, you are the strongest woman I know. No man can take that strength away from you. Besides, both Jamie and I are here to help you through this. This is your life-long dream, and you are just a step away from making it come true. Don’t let it all be in vain.”
“I… I don’t know, Alison. It’s just too soon.”
“This is your chance to show my brother exactly what he’s missing out on. The incredible woman he set free into a world dominated by hungry men.” I was trying as hard as I could to bring even the faintest smile to her face without trashing Matt, but I honestly felt like bashing him hard and telling her everything I knew.
But I couldn’t.
I owed it to both of them to shut the hell up as long as I possibly could. “Don’t let him off easy, Fran. I mean, it’s been hard on him, too. I've hardly seen him lately, and the only time I have, he was not in a good mood. He brought it upon himself, I know. But don’t let go of your dream just because Matt will be there. Don’t let your pain take this away from you.” I couldn’t let her lose both Matt and her dream.
I heard her sigh on the other side, still not quite convinced it was worth the heartbreak she knew was coming.
“Look, let’s just take it one step at a time and try not to predict the future. We can cross all those worrisome bridges when we come to them. So, for now, just forget about my brother and focus on achieving what you’ve always thought was out of your reach. You will become the first Donna in the Mafia, Francesca! Think about all the other women that can one day be in your position. The unthinkable precedent that will be set once you make it, paving the path for all the others who one day might dare to dream as high as you have. Do it for them. Do it for yourself! The rest we will deal with when it comes. Deal?” I decided to give her the same advice I had given myself as I looked into that mirror. “Let’s just seize the day. Carpe Diem, Baby.”
“Maybe.”
“Don’t maybe me, Madam. I want to hear you say aye aye, Captain!” I tried to mimic a pirate's voice, badly as fuck, but it managed to pull a chuckle out of her, so I’d take it.
“Have you lost an eye or grown a wooden leg also?” She lightly laughed, and I felt a little relief from finally doing my job as a friend.
“Sorry, I’m not fluent in mobster. All I have is the small lexicon ingrained in my brain from rewatching Pirates of the Caribbean more times than I can count.” I laughed, following her now louder chuckles. “What? I mean… Jack Sparrow is hot!”
“He’s strange.” She continued giggling .
“So am I. It’s meant to be!” I faked a serious tone. “I’m still waiting, Sailor!”
“Aye aye, Captain!” she cooed into the speaker.
“That’s more like it. So I’ll see you at dinner. I’ll text you the restaurant details. And Fran… We got this.”
She sighed and bid her goodbyes, leaving me a little lighter than before and anxious to see her again.
Fuck dinner tonight, I’ll have coffee in the morning.
I let my body fall back onto the bed, a comforting smile curving my lips as a remnant of our conversation, but it was short-lived.
Heavy fists banged on my front door, startling me to a sitting position. The urgency in each pound became clear as they muffled together into a continuous sound that had me springing to my feet and darting toward the entrance.
I barely wrapped the towel around me again before reaching for the doorknob and yanking it open.
Max came storming into my apartment, walking right past me and searching the place like the Grim Reaper himself was tucked under my bed.
“What are you doing here? Again .” I asked as he rushed through each room, one hand behind his back, clutching his gun and more than ready to draw. But he didn’t answer me.
“MAX?” I shouted, finally getting his attention as he finished his little security round.
He stopped in front of me, his eyes taking in the small towel that barely covered my ass. I saw the way his jaw clenched tightly, his blue eyes suddenly black with how wide his pupils had gone.
“What are you doing here?” I asked one more time, my voice cracking at the beginning of that sentence as I tried to squirm out of the spell that his intrusive glare put me under.
“Just making sure you’re okay. I heard a noise. ”
“You heard a noise?”
“Yes. I heard a noise.”
“What were you doing outside my door, Max? Oh my God! How long were you standing there?”
“I didn’t leave.”
“What?”
My face suddenly felt hot as my cheeks blushed with the embarrassment of what he might have heard.
“If you’re wondering if I heard you and fuck face, I did. Quite underwhelming if you ask me. I’ve heard you scream louder from pain.”
“Jesus Christ! I can’t believe this. Who the hell gave you permission to be spying on me?”
“Permission?” He scoffed. “Mafiosos don’t need permission, Miss Battaglia. Besides, I wasn’t spying, I was making sure our little mafia princess was safe while she fucked the enemy.” The sarcasm and derision in his words weren’t lost on me. And yet, the honesty both of them infused into that statement had yet another shiver driving down my spine. Was he jealous?
“Are you drunk?”
“Of course. How else did you expect me to endure the torture?”
“You had no right!” My fists were clenched in anger, but it was mostly mortification that ran through me at the moment.
“At least we can agree on that. I am all wrongs, no rights at all. But apparently, I’m the right one to be on baby sister duty.” The disdain in his voice was clear, even over the liquor.
“Now that you’ve seen that the boogie man hasn’t taken up residence under my bed, please do me a favor and fuck off. ”
Max took a step further, his closeness and overbearing height making me hold back a gasp that threatened to escape. Slowly, he lowered his lips until they were level with my ears, his nose taking in a deep inhale before he spoke.
“You need another shower. You still smell like lousy sex. Put on some blush, too. That shady motherfucker couldn’t even bring some color into your cheeks.”
My hand darted from my side before I could help it, but it didn’t make its destination. Max held my wrist in a tight grip before I slapped him, pulling me into his hard chest.
I wanted to hurt him. I wanted to see pain flashing across his face like I never had before. It was all fun and games pretending nothing ever happened between us when Max wasn’t around. What the eyes don’t see, the heart can’t feel, right?
But ever since my grandfather died, Max was a constant presence. A curse. A fucking stray that followed me home every other damn night. And now I was positive my brother was making him do it again.
Funny how that realization stung.
He couldn’t be the only one appointed, but the others never bothered me. They never invaded my space and privacy. They never even made themselves seen.
I was lost in thought, staring at his stupid eyes. The same damn look on them now that had pulled me to him all those years ago. Reverence mixed with derision.
Fuck him.
“I might not have the just-fucked glow you are happy to see missing on me, but at least he said goodbye before leaving.”
“Wow. Holding that in for so long must have been eating you up. Does that mean I caused an impression, Miss Battaglia?” As it seemed, Max was out for blood, just like me.
“Why are you being such an asshole? I didn’t ask you to be here.”
His fingers tightened around my wrist as his eyes perused me intently. But instead of replying, he decided to sink those teeth of his further into my wound.
“Were you thinking of me while you fucked him?”
“Ah, that’s rich. How you think those lame ten minutes bought you a permanent space in my mind is beyond me. You need an ego check, Maxy Max.”
Max’s free hand wrapped around my throat, pulling my face closer towards him, my lips parting as his breath fanned my skin.
Rum and danger.
“Stop seeing him.”
It wasn't a question or a plea. It was a demand.
“Why?”
“He’s the enemy.” I knew that would be the rehearsed answer, given too quickly to be honest. Despite the amount of booze, Max’s truths were buried so deep inside him that those lies were all he had.
“The enemy makes me feel good. What can you do, Max?”
Max’s eyes flashed dark, his jaw tensing up, and yet his fingers held the same pressure on my skin. Our lips were closer than before, almost grazing. Almost caving. This was my perfect opportunity to see that pain I craved. He deserved it for not allowing this wound to heal.
“If you’re going to kiss me, do it. I bet you’ll still taste him on my lips if you do.” I stopped, my mouth falling slightly open as if I was about to close that gap and kiss him myself. But I knew what my words were doing to him. I knew just how cutting they were for a man like Max, even if he didn’t give a flying fuck about me.
Mafiosos don’t share.
Mafiosos don’t take scraps.
Mafiosos don’t come second to anyone.
“No? I thought you wouldn’t.” With a harsh tug on my arm, I pulled myself out of his grasp and took the biggest step back I could. “Now get the hell out of my house.”