Chapter 26
CHAPTER 26
ALISON
I hate flying.
I’ve looked down the barrel of a gun once, but somehow, it was not quite as scary as being in a huge metal tube, thirty-something thousand feet above the freaking ground, just floating in mid-air. Maybe it was the duration of the panic, maybe just the notion that, at that time, the trigger wouldn’t be squeezed. The comparison might be idiotic, but that’s where my now slightly inebriated fuzzy mind went.
I sat in the VIP lounge at LaGuardia, waiting for Vincenzo’s jet to be ready to go. I was desperately trying to muffle my senses to the point that fear turned into senseless bravery, and there was only one place I could find that – at the bottom of a glass of Rum. I was just going for comforting looseness, but I might have gone a tad overboard already. In my defense, I was drowning the thoughts in my mind as if they were a sinking ship.
Two weeks had gone by since Max slut-shamed me for doing whatever the fuck I wanted with whomever I wanted. It only truly hurt because it was him saying those words. I had allowed myself to wallow in sadness and dismay for a couple of days, emerging stronger as days went by, relapsing a little without shame.
I have never gone through a real heartbreak before, and knowing I truly l…l…liked someone who didn’t feel the same way for me broke me beyond repair. Worse than that was feeling like I wasn’t worthy of his affection because of my choices. But in reality, what the hell have I really done? I had sex with Jax! For the last year, that’s the only person I’ve ever been with. I can’t see the shame in that. And even if I had been sleeping around, what man hasn’t done exactly that and gloated about being a fucking stud? Being a manly man that could hook and eat up any girl they set their eyes on. So why the hell would that be any different if it were me?
The fact was, I was the first one to condemn it. The first one to believe Max’s misogynistic words. The first one to condemn myself to shame. But it was wrong. Two weights and two measures for the same thing resulted in nothing more than discrimination and double fucking standards. Well, not with me.
I had asked Victor for some time, not because of the way Max made me feel about going out with him, but because I was a total mess and I didn’t see how being tangled up in a new web could help me out of the emotional clusterfuck I found myself in. So, I bought some time to mend my shattered ego and heart before I was strong enough to live my freedom to the fullest before forever.
Besides, going to California might just help me either gain perspective or decide to start my new life before the end of the six months.
Dwelling on my conversation with Max for days on end, especially topped off with that strange visit when I was with Vincenzo, complete with a fucking kiss on the cheek and all, only told me one thing – Max was playing me. Finally, thinking with my head and not my heart brought me the clarity to see things for what they truly were.
All I knew from him for the three years he had been working for Matt was the complete opposite of what I saw and heard in that hospital ward. Had I really seen more than there truly was to see? I don’t know myself to be dumb. Emotions just fogged my mind and took control, not allowing me to clearly perceive that there was more to his actions than met the eye. Either he had two faces, or he was just simply pushing me away. But why? Now the answer to that question is one that no longer interested me. I was done.
Not setting eyes on him for two weeks helped mend my broken heart, which, despite my latest convictions, still seemed not to be able to connect with rationality and stop bleeding out for something that would never be.
Max clearly wanted me away from him, and that’s exactly what I will be doing. I wanted that too, right? … Right?
“Another, please,” I said, motioning to the bartender to fill my shamefully empty glass. The bottle of Havana Club Máximo in his hand took me back to that night at Dea Tacita when Max had allowed me to see the real person underneath the Mafia shadow. I would now forever link that drink to him. It was a delicious poison that did nothing but bad things to me, just like him.
Vincenzo’s men sat close by, watching my every move, attentive to everything around us. I could perfectly picture my future husband strictly instructing them to keep me safe. They introduced themselves when they picked me up at home. Fabio and Fabrizio. I was never going to get that right!
They were both dressed in a black fitted suit, black tie, and a crisp white button-down shirt. No wrinkle in sight. Fabio was tall and tanned. Dark eyes, dark hair, probably a very dark soul. Or was that Fabrizio? Well, the other one seemed softer, even though he was much bigger and bulkier. His suit almost ripping around his huge biceps every time he crossed his arms. They looked like they just stepped out of a “Men in Black” movie, complete with the shades and all. Could they neuralyze me? Oh, I would pay for that. Get rid of the bad memories and replace them with just the feeling of utter, unexplained happiness. If not, I’d just take the talking pug.
My phone rang in my pocket, and I fumbled to get it out as I downed the rest of my drink. I saw Francesca’s number on the caller ID and hurried to answer.
“Hey, Franny!” I answered, almost singing into the phone, not bothering too much to hide the slight buzz I was now feeling.
“Hi, Babe. How are you doing?” I had been to their house to visit once I gathered myself from the broken mess of a person I was and told her the broad strokes of what had happened. But the true pain I felt, I couldn’t find myself well enough to share.
“Good… considering I absolutely hate planes. And this one is tiny. Can’t I just drive there?” I was feeling like a small child throwing a tantrum. She just laughed and listened. “Put me on a fucking big plane! What is it with powerful men and tiny planes? Oh, I guess Vincenzo doesn’t feel like he has to compensate for anything.”
“It will be fine. Don’t panic,” She chuckled, clearly amused by my mild meltdown. “Just try to enjoy this little escape. Have a mimosa on the beach and relax. Did you end up going to that appointment I booked for you yesterday?”
“I did, and remind me to kill you when I come back. That shit hurt like hell!” I whisper-shouted. As part of my grieving process, Francesca thought that taking care of myself was somewhat important, so she booked me a full reno. I needed it to look at least decent for the upcoming event, to be honest. The twist at the end was the full Brazilian she had requested to, and I quote, ‘Prep me for bikini season in Cali.’
Let me just say - not fun. She was already loudly laughing on the other side of the line as she pictured the pain and suffering I went through with each ripped strip of wax.
“Stop laughing, it isn’t funny. I’ll be traumatized for life!” The more I berated her, the more she laughed, and I couldn’t help but start to smile, too. “No, seriously! It’s like I’m afraid I’m going to catch a fucking cold if I uncross my legs! Think Dalai Lama from the brows up.”
She burst out laughing, and I couldn’t hold my chuckle, either.
“Alison, stop!” She managed to get out.
“No, I don’t think you get the gravity of the situation… it’s a sphinx, you know those bald pussies for allergic people?”
“Alison, stop talking!” She cooed between loud, uncontrolled giggles.
“I’M BALDY LOCKS!” I couldn’t contain my laughter either at the realization. Finally, a happy, carefree moment that made me smile.
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
“Oh, Shit! Hi, Matt.” I tried to stifle my laughter and fake a serious tone, but the last burst of giggles, probably driven by the drinks, too, just unsolicitedly blurted out of my mouth. “You could have warned me you had me on speaker, you traitor.”
“I don’t even want to try and understand.” My serious brother said, slowly making the laughter die down. “Have you told her yet?” I heard him ask Francesca.
“Told her what?” I asked, now intrigued.
“I couldn’t let you go without protection- “
“Matt, I’m a grown woman. The conversation about the birds and the bees is long overdue.” I cut him off. I could almost see the eye roll on the other side, colored with that loud sigh.
“As I was saying, Max and Jimmy will be going with you to make sure you’re safe.”
“WHAT? HELL NO!” I shouted into the phone. Every ounce of amusement I had lingering simply vanished at the sound of that damn sentence. I almost sobered up.
“What? Why not?” Shit! Of course. Matt didn’t know about anything. At least I knew from his reaction that Francesca had kept my secret.
“I’m not a child, Matt. I can take care of myself. I don’t need your babysitters walking on my heels.” I tried to mask my reasons, faking independence. Maybe it would stick.
“I don’t care what you say. They are going with you, or that fucking plane doesn’t leave the ground. Now pass them the phone.”
“They’re not even –“
“Miss Battaglia,” I heard a familiar ghost whisper in my ear. I couldn’t help but flinch at the sound of those hypnotic vocal cords saying my name.
I could feel his whisper under my skin, igniting my bones, striking my senses, and making me shiver from head to toe. His breath fanned my ear, and I could feel his warm body just inches away from mine.
I abruptly turned around, and the first thing my eyes saw was his perfectly plump lips, contorted into a smirk before I looked up into his piercing blue eyes. I quickly took a step back and placed the phone in his extended hand, darting straight to the bar to get myself another drink as I jumped out of the dark rabbit hole my mind was taking me down. I would need a double now that flying would probably be the least of my problems.
Having him with me on this trip meant nothing but disaster. I needed to push him away as he had done to me. I couldn’t let him get as close as he did before. I refused to go back to the self-destructing vulnerability. Because once again, seeing him, feeling him so close, that’s exactly what I wanted. I wanted him to want me, but that is most certainly not what I needed. I needed peace and healing, and with Max around, I couldn’t see how that would be even remotely possible.
I watched as Max received his final orders from my brother, slowly pacing around the VIP lounge, my face paling further by the second as I sat on the barstool with my back leaning against the counter. I realized that I now nurtured a strange anger and hate towards him, keyword – strange.
Because at the same time, I couldn’t help the stupid fluttering in my stomach every time I looked at his smug face. The line between the two was too thin and blurry. He proudly wore a fucking grin that he would flash me each time he looked over at me as he spoke on the phone. I didn’t tear my gaze from him, even when he looked directly at me. I wanted him to see my displeasure of having him tag along. I hoped my burning, unamused glare would burn the snicker right off his face.
Prince charming, my ass.
Max turned around and winked, flashing me a dead gorgeous smile that had my breath completely caught in my chest. Well, fuck me. If I had known this was in the cards, I would have gladly taken the plane and the gun and the wax together any day, just to be spared the particular brand of torture I was about to endure. I can’t get out now. Vincenzo was expecting me. I have no other choice than to sink in further .
“Pour me another!” I almost barked at the bartender. I drank the whole damn thing without even blinking, the burning sensation down my throat adding fire to my core, like pouring gasoline on a raging fire. Max confidently strutted towards me, almost swinging in a poorly disguised victory dance.
He is fucking enjoying this.
“Here’s your phone, Miss Battaglia.” His voice was steady and strangely held no hint of the amused expression I saw on his face before.
“Welcome aboard, both of you. Dr. Jekyll, Mr. Hyde. Which one of you will be at the forefront today?” I couldn’t help but hint at the bipolar behavior he had been displaying.
Total and utter honesty came along with the lightness of the alcohol buzz. I couldn’t hold my thoughts back, even if I tried. It was as if my mouth had a direct, free-flow connection with my mind. No pit stops. So I turned my back on him, not waiting for a reply, refusing to carry on this conversation. Best I avoid it altogether.
“Alison, I’m just here to keep you safe and help,” He said, making me turn to him, my face not hiding the blush of anger that crept up my cheeks.
“You could have helped a lot more by staying away,” I confessed, standing and going to sit between Fabio and Fabrizio. Maybe they could guard my heart, too, as well as my body.
It was finally boarding time, and thanks to the Havana Club Maximo Rum, I was no longer shaking like a leaf. I was relaxed and in complete tune with my feelings. Too much, in fact.
I sat beside one of the Fabs, not sure it was Fabio, while the other sat across from me. Both Max and Jimmy sat on the other side of the aisle, and I was thankful for the distance .
The jet was extravagant, just like our own, but from where I stood, it could have been made out of pure gold and diamonds, and I would still hate its guts.
I leaned onto one of the Fabs’ arm and continued to blabber, slightly nervous now that we were taking off. Soon enough, I could feel the effects of that last glass of Rum as my mouth ranted on without brakes, constrictions, or reticence.
Privacy and boundaries were simply non-existent to my drunken, eloquent self. I would steal a glance over to Max once in a while and saw his placid face, his control reigning on the surface, but his balled fists did nothing to hide his frustration.
“… I mean, it hurts like hell, ya know? I don’t get why you men see this as necessary! It’s pure torture. Oh shit! I know. Maybe you should try and do it to someone you need to pull info from? Just spread the wax, and they’ll be ratting out before you can say Bald-win!”
I started laughing alone at my own pathetic joke, but I saw the chuckle that left Fabrizio’s mouth unexpectedly.
“And you know what they say about the carpets and the drapes… well, news flash… They don’t—” Max suddenly picked me up and threw me over his shoulder. “Hey, what the hell?” I saw Fabio – aka the bigger one, I think – stand up and try to make a move to get me out of Max’s grip.
“Signor—”
“Not a word.” I heard Max growl out a warning, taking a menacing step forward as a threat to the huge Italian mountain of a man. “Sit. Down.” His commanding tone sent a thrilling shiver down my spine, an electric current that settled right between my legs. I thought it would be enough to start a fistfight at least, but to my astonishment, Fabio did as he was told and, after a curt nod, sat back down .
I guess Battaglia’s still have jurisdiction on this side of the sky.
Max stomped towards the end of the plane, entering a room and shutting the door behind him. I saw the comfy bed with snow-white sheets, and my hazy mind seemed to almost clear up.
He finally put me on my feet just before I felt my breath being cut straight from my lungs as freezing water poured down my head.
“I’m d-d-dressed y-you a-a-asshole,” I blurted in between paralyzing shivers.
I was still trying to catch my breath and adjust to the Siberian temperature that brought me clarity, but kept my crude sincerity. Max was standing right in front of me, holding me in the shower, wetting his fucking pristine Tom Ford’s sleeves. I looked up at him, and my heart pained deeper than ever, if that was even possible.
“I h-hate you.” I tried my best not to stutter but he didn’t even flinch at my words.
The ice-cold water seeped through my pores and gave me that cold blood us Battaglia’s are known for. I guess until now, I hadn’t really had to call on it. But this was about life and death: my life! I would not be made to feel less! He would not crush me again, but he was, and I needed to guard myself.
“Take a nice long look because this is the last time you get to see me from this close, you sadistic motherfucker.”
Max turned the water off and grabbed a towel to wrap around me. He rubbed my almost numb arms before tucking a strand of hair behind my ear, lingering to caress my cheek.
He was acting as if I had said absolutely nothing. As if he had done absolutely nothing. Rage couldn’t start to describe the feeling I had rising in me. Towards him, maybe more towards myself for still allowing him to affect me.
“There’s a robe behind the door. Dry off and put it on. You can sleep the rest of the way,” He simply ordered. Again, the same shiver ran through me as I registered his commanding tone.
He left me to it, and soon enough, I was walking out of the bathroom after taking a hot shower to warm up.
My soul was still frozen even though my skin was blemished from the water’s heat. Max was sitting on the bed and swiftly stood as I opened the door. I lay on the soft mattress, stretching out and waiting for him to take the hint and leave, but he stood firmly at the foot of the bed without so much as a blink.
If the hint was too subtle, maybe I had to make myself clearer and let the Battaglia in me come out once and for all.
I let my gaze set onto his, locking and never letting go as I turned onto all fours and crawled towards him. Finally, I caught his tell as I saw his Adam’s apple forcefully moving from the dry gulp he had just swallowed. I reached him, my eyes were still studying him, and my resolve almost faltered.
But I couldn’t. I had to be as mordant as he was. I stood on my knees and placed a hand on his chest while my other one circled seductively around his waist. I saw the new burn of lust that now flared clearly in his eyes.
Before he knew it, I drew out his gun and pointed it at his balls, making sure to press so he could feel the barrel. But somehow, he saw it coming, and I felt his other gun pressed against my stomach. I could only say excitement and adrenaline were running my show because I was still a little glazed to avoid the honesty. This thrilling high was making me second guess, yet again, what I needed to do .
“Get the hell out of this room. I’m sober enough to know I didn’t invite you here.” I gritted, keeping my defiant stance.
Max stood down and put his gun back in his holster with a silent chuckle as he took a step back, preparing to leave as I had ordered.
“If that’s what you really want, Miss Battaglia.”
“Hyde!” I shouted to his back as he left.
“What?”
“Clearly it’s the cruel one that’s out today.” I let myself fall back onto the mattress, still holding Max’s gun in my hand, listening as he slowly moved towards the door. “I’m done with this life, I’m ready to move on,” I murmured in a sigh as Max left the room and buried my face in the cloudy pillows.