7. Hannah
Chapter seven
Hannah
S aturdays are sports days. A few years ago the county constructed a large sports complex, full of dozens of soccer fields, tennis courts, pickleball courts, and an indoor pool. It's a blessing to sports parents with multiples because most of the county sports happen at the complex in the evenings during weekdays and Saturdays, all day. This Saturday, Jack has soccer at 10, while Aiden has soccer at 11. Viv will usually practice her cartwheels or contortion on an empty soccer field.
I pull into the complex, woefully late, and break out my folding cart from the rear of my minivan. I've been unprepared enough to know I need this cart, plus folding chairs, water, snacks, and a first aid kit. Don't ask me how I know.
When you show up to soccer looking like a hot mess, you get labeled a hot mess and get hot mess passive-aggressive comments from the other parents all season. It's honestly just easier to be organized.
We reach the field Jack's playing at and I shove him towards his coach. I've just set up the other kids, claimed our spot along the sideline, and sat my tired ass in my folding chair when two large hands wrap around me from behind along the crook of my neck and shoulder.
Panic subsides when I smell him. Cedar and something unique, and two other bodies flank beside me .
I close my eyes and enjoy the touch. Fuck, when did I become so starved of touch?
I smile as he comes around to the side and lays on his side on the ground next to me. Out of my peripheral, I see Santiago and Matty take up their positions, flanking us.
“What are you doing here?” I ask, unable to contain my smile.
“Joining you for soccer. You don’t seem all that upset to see me.” He comments with a cocky grin.
“That’s very domestic of you.” I tease while throwing smiles at Santiago and Matty, too. Rico reclines leisurely on one elbow; his long body spread out in the grass by the sidelines. He's dressed in his customary black-on-black-on-black and stands out against the polo shirts and khakis of the other dads. In fact, I look around and notice the attention he and his entourage are attracting attention.
Santiago stands slightly behind us, large arms crossed over his wide chest, in a position of look-out. I glance and see he hasn't covered up his scar. That makes me happier than it should and I can't help but smile at him. I know he's working so I don't want to distract him. I simply sign 'hello' at him and finger-spell his name.
Viv's in the field behind us, practicing her gymnastics so Matty steals her pink folding chair, awkwardly, leaning on one hip as his giant frame dwarfs the chair. I can't help but laugh at the large, handsome man in a three-piece suit wedged awkwardly into a tiny pink chair. But he doesn't seem at all insecure about it.
I admire all of their 'I don't give a fuck' ness. That they can walk through this world without the burden of maintaining appearances.
A part of me worries about them seeing my children and my children meeting them. But I can always introduce them as my friends. Women could be friends with men, right? It doesn't have to mean anything.
Choices.
Do I want these men a part of my children's lives?
Honestly, yes.
These men are thoughtful, giving, deep, and loyal. Yeah, as long as they are safe, these are the type of men I want my children around. I want my boys to see them as the type of man to aspire to. And I want Viv to know what a good man looks like.
Because running around on your family, with your secretary, bullying your wife about her weight, and Alan's general ungratefulness is not the gold standard I want her to reach for.
But Rico's compassion and thoughtfulness when it came to the night I smoked with him, and taking a day out of his busy empire to give me back something I didn't know I so desperately needed? Yeah, that was it. Santiago being vulnerable and open to change? That was fucking sexy. Matty being playful and flirtatious. Together, all three of these men were exactly everything a man should be.
A panicked sob tries to bubble its way up my throat before I beat it back down. I won't mentally allow myself to go there.
I admired these men. I was attracted to these men. These men would be a good influence on my children. But I wasn't going to entertain the idea of anything more. I'm still a married woman.
“You don’t exactly fit in with the suburban dad look.” I tease Rico, to distract myself and lighten the mood.
“Would you prefer me in khaki shorts and loafers?”
I let out an unrestrained snort and laugh at the idea. Neck and hand tattoos and all in a pink polo and khaki shorts.
“You know the local PTA and desperate-housewives-committee will be talking about this all week, right?” Rico teases me, also noticing the glances.
“Good. Let them talk.” I quip back.
Choices.
Who gives a shit if the bored bitties in the PTA talk about how I showed up to my kids' soccer games with three men in tow?
Rico may look intimidating with his neck and arm tattoos, and Santiago with his neck scar, but was I really going to raise my children to judge a person by their appearance? Was I going to raise my children to cast stereotypes and value a person based on what they wear?
Fuck no.
“Where’s your husband?” Rico asks, feeling out the day.
“Worried someone’s going to come out of the bushes and sucker punch you?” I tease again, trying to keep the conversation light when my chest and my lower abdomen are anything but.
Rico's silence is telling.
“He never comes to sports.” I continue. “It’s honestly better this way. He's always grumpy and miserable and wants to be anywhere but here. He would only point out what the kids did wrong instead of what they do right. Everyone’s happier when he doesn’t come.” The silence hangs in the air between us, saying so many unspoken things.
“Which poked condom is yours?” Rico asks, nodding his head towards the field full of five-year-olds chasing the ball.
I smack on him his shoulder. “My child is number 2. That’s my Jack.” I say with pride .
“Good lookin’ kid,” Rico says, after a time. “And he has talent with the ball.”
Just then the coach calls for half-time and Jack comes running over to me instead of his team. I'm about to ask him what's wrong, but he simply pulls a long thread that's come loose from his jersey. I grab my keychain from my pocket, flick out the tiny pocket knife on my keychain, and swipe the loose string before Jack goes running back.
“And what sport did young Rico play?” I ask.
“Football. Or soccer as you Yanks like to call it.”
I smile at the thought of little Rico playing soccer, all carefree and happy.
"And little Matty?" I ask, turning my attention to him.
"Swimming and golf. Swimming for safety in the Hamptons and golf so that I could woo the judges on the golf course."
"He had you pegged for a lawyer even as a kid?"
"He groomed me to become a lawyer so I could join his law firm. I hated the fucker so I joined the competition the minute I could. He still hasn't talked to me." He laughs ruefully.
"Why do you hate him?"
"I'm the product of his long-term affair with a woman half his age. He strung her along for decades, always promising to leave his wife, but never did. She was so obsessed with him and heartbroken she barely knew I existed. He couldn't have kids with his wife, so he moved me in with him and began grooming me as his heir."
I reach out and place my hand on his arm.
"That's terrible, Matty. I'm so sorry. Did she finally get better? Move on?"
"Nope. Committed suicide."
"Fuck." I curse lowly but still garner dirty looks from a grandmother sitting close enough to hear.
I squeeze his arm to get his full attention. His green eyes find mine. "I'm so, so sorry."
Matty lays his other hand across mine and gives me a look of thanks. It's surprisingly somber for such a normally light-hearted man.
My heart aches for him.
Just then coach swaps out kids and Jack comes running over to me for his water bottle. His gait never falters as he takes in the three new men around us.
Matty leans forward and offers Jack a fist to bump, which he does easily, and a "Great goal, little man!" Jack beams with the praise before taking a long drag of his water bottle.
"Jack, these are my friends Matty, Rico, and Santiago," I say nodding towards all three of my guys. Shit. When had they become my guys? I shake my head a little. I feel like I've been adopted as the unofficial mascot for three of the most dangerous men in the city.
"Sup?" Jack says, trying to put on a much cooler, older front. It's honestly adorable.
Rico leans forward towards Jack and crooks his finger at him conspiratorially.
"See number 4 on the other team?"
Jack's head pops up to take in his opponent and nods, leaning towards Rico more, eager for the intel.
"He's slow on his left side. If you get the ball, take it to his left side."
Jack glances back at Rico, and gives him a serious nod, before chucking his water bottle back at me and running off back to his team's side of the field.
I laugh. Something light and warm settles in my chest, seeing my 'real' life and my 'new' life come together.
"So you guys randomly decided you wanted to come to U8 soccer games on your Saturday? No pressing mafia business?" I tease, voice low enough that only Matty and Rico can hear it.
There's a tense silence where I begin to second-guess everything.
Finally, Rico speaks up. "Were you serious about helping us look at the Vitale's financials?" Rico asks, looking back at me over his shoulder.
"Yeah! Of course. Anything, if it helps." I recognize I'm eager to be useful, but the forty-five minutes of just touching and smelling a horse again for the first time in so many years had unleashed something in my heart and soul. It was the first step of reuniting who Hannah truly is and who she's become and I can't describe how grateful I've been to them because of it.
If spending a few hours pouring over boring bank statements and whatever else their hacker comes up with could repay a fraction of what they've already given me, I'd happily do it a hundred times over.
Just then the coach blows the whistle and the game is over. Jack comes trotting back to us, wide smile on his face.
"We won! Did you see?" Jack starts, excitedly looking for my approval.
I open my mouth to praise and validate him when Matty stands up, scoops Jack up, and plops him on his shoulders. With one hand holding his ankle in place and one hand raised in victory, Matty proceeds to sing Queens "We are the champions". Jack giggles joyfully while the rest of the parents throw them mean side-eye. Ignoring them, Santiago and Rico help me pack up the folding chairs and water bottles into my cart.
Underneath some trees are some picnic tables, next to where Viv is practicing her aerial and Aiden is shooting on an empty goal.
Viv and Aid spot us and wander over cautiously. Where Jack is extroverted, and a loose cannon, Aid and Viv are reserved, and cautious.
"Your other fuck trophies?" Rico leans forward and whispers in my ear as he places his hand on my lower back. The gesture is intimate, sweet, and fuck I may be addicted. I elbow him in the gut.
"My other children ." I admonish with a smile.
"Vivian, Aiden, this is Matty, Rico and Santiago. They're my new friends."
Aiden gives me a skeptical look.
"They helped me out with a...flat tire...while you guys were with your grandparents. We exchanged numbers and they've been very...friendly."
Fuck, I'm a shit liar. Viv and Aid seem to know I'm lying but tentatively accept the truth anyway.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Viv staring at Santiago's scar. I wince. I pray she doesn't react poorly to it. I know it's new to Santiago to accept it, and I really hope she doesn't set him back in his confidence.
He kneels in front of her.
'Does it hurt?' She signs.
'No,' he signs back, before looking up at me.
My heart shatters into pieces. My precious, angel-baby reaches out her tiny hand and touches Santiago's neck, and I repress a sob. This moment isn't about me. It's about Santiago finding acceptance, and my baby girl finding that there are people out there with scars - some visible, some hidden.
'Good' , Viv signs and I die and little and am reborn a little on the inside. I shift my focus onto more practical things, wiping a stray tear off of my cheek. I reach inside my cart and pull out peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for the kids and me. I didn't pack anything for the guys, though, and I can't help the guilt that overcomes me.
I give my sandwich to Rico and divide the chips and Gatorades to Matty and Santiago, and pretend to be busy doing other things so they don't notice I'm not eating.
"You're clever, mami, but not that clever," Rico whispers into my ear, low and intimate. It sends a shiver through my body and warms my core. I haven't felt any desire for decades, so this onslaught of attraction is new to me, and I'm almost unsure of how to process it.
Rico hands my sandwich back to me, and Matty and Santiago pour their chips back into my lap.
"If you guys had told me you were coming, I would have made food for you guys, too," I say. I don't want to be bitchy, but I also would have preferred to make sandwiches for them too.
Rico grabs my chin and pulls it towards him. "Mami. We're not your responsibility. I would love to have a sandwich you made, but we're grown-ass men, not children, and we can take care of our own needs."
I'm stunned. I don't know what to say or do. I've never been told by a man not to take care of them. I thought that was my whole job.
I think about my husband. I swear he only comes home to get home-cooked meals. His mistress must not know how to cook.
And these men, who I owe half my soul to, who don't owe me anything, are more than happy to lay themselves on the line for me.
My entire reality teeters.
Rico gets up after Aiden finishes, and the two of them go to an empty soccer goal and practice shots on goal.
Matty and Jack disappear together after much whispered, hidden agendas. Honestly, it makes me a little nervous.
Viv is staring at Santiago, while Santiago is still scanning the environment for threats.
Suddenly, Vivian walks up to Santiago and simply stares up at him. Somehow he must understand what she wants, because he ducks down, grabs her, and throws her up on top of his shoulders, where they both proceed to watch the area around us.
And my heart breaks a little bit more. I've tried to raise my kids the best I can, but they've lacked any sort of male influence that wasn't detrimental. I want to introduce them to male influences that are positive, and influential...that add to their lives and not take away.
Something shifts inside of me. If I'm going to start taking control of my life and making choices that are authentic to me, what does that mean for Alan? He's not who I would have chosen as a husband for myself or as a father for my children .
It took a wake-up call, and the drastically different way these three men interact with my children to really put into focus how much Alan's attitude has affected us all.
Aiden trots off when he sees his coach and I know his game is going to start soon. Matty returns, holding Jack like a football. Jack's all smiles and wide eyes and giggles.
"And where were you two?" I ask suspiciously.
The boys share a look and simply giggle at each other. I roll my eyes but can't help the smile that spreads across my lips. I love that these two have bonded instantly.
"Oh, you two are going to be trouble together, aren't you? Do I need to separate you two?"
Matty gasps in mock horror. "Never!" He says, grabbing Jack and pretending to run away with him.
Viv's leans down whispering something into Santiago's ear, likely pointing out someone suspicious, because his head swivels and he glares, making a soccer Dad speed up his pace a little.
Viv's interests have always leaned toward the morbid, or serious. She never liked the Disney-fied Grimm brothers tales, she wanted the originals.
She didn't want the Cinderella who got revenge on her step-sisters by marrying the prince. She wanted the Cinderella whose step-sisters got their eyes plucked out by ravens.
Somehow, it makes her and Santiago seem cut from the same cloth.
Rico sits next to me on the bench and loops his pinky finger over mine. The gesture is so small and so intimate, but it sets my chest on fire and I purse my lips to hide my stupid smile.
"Why don't you leave him, mami?" He asks, leaning towards me so he can whisper intimately.
"I don't have any money," I reply sadly.
Because at the end of the day, it all comes back to money.
"He has control of all of the accounts. It's his name only on the deed. He gives me a small allowance every week for groceries and bills. I can't even afford a lawyer to draw up the paperwork."
"You know Matty's a lawyer, right? And I could set you up financially."
I lean my head on his shoulder. "I couldn't take your money, Rico. Once it runs out, what will I do? I need something sustainable to provide for my kids. I'd need a safe space for them." I turn to face him more. "Rico, there's no way he would let me divorce him and take the kids. It would be a blow to his image and reputation. He'll lock me up in divorce court and bleed me dry."
Rico seems to consider this.
Instead, I look out at my kids. Viv's trying to teach Santiago how to do a handstand and Jack's trying to figure out how to backflip off of Matty's shoulders.
"It's nice seeing them smile. I mean they're happy with me at home, but it's nice to see them interact with men."
He nods silently. I'm afraid I've said something wrong or offended him somehow, but he simply helps me pack up from lunch before we move to the field Aiden's playing on.
Once the chairs are all set up - Viv in her pink one, Matty pacing some distance off on the phone, with Jack on his shoulders again, I sit in mine and Rico reclines next to me again, propped up on one elbow.
Silently, he reaches over and runs his finger up and down the side of my ankle. When I don't stop him, he casually caresses the outside of my ankle, his forefinger tracing the bone and tendons there. His finger wanders to the inside of my ankle, and it may have well been my pussy. The intimate touch of him, so slow, so leisurely, so decadent. It's sexual but not, intimate but not, teasing but not, and for the hour and a half Aid plays my breathing gets deeper and deeper, my palms get sweatier and sweatier, and my panties get wetter.
I never knew such an innocent touch could ignite a fire under my skin. I don't know if Rico knows just what he's doing to me. For all I know, it's completely innocent. But I'm about to push him down and fuck him in front of a crowd of soccer moms and their children.
Finally, I clear my throat and inch my foot away. Instead of letting me go, Rico's fingers slowly wrap all the way around my ankle, holding me firm. A mental image of him, his hand wrapped around my ankle like this while he pulls me down a bed towards him flashes before my eyes and I squeeze my thighs together, painfully aching.
I let out an embarrassing whimper, and while I can't see Rico's face from this angle I can almost feel his predatory smile. He gives my ankle one last squeeze before letting it go again.
I don't know what's going on with these men. I'm a frumpy stay-at-home soccer mom, while they're powerful criminal kingpins. I'm insanely attracted to all three of them, there's no denying that. It's like they appeared in the middle of the night, found my libido, and then lit a raging fire underneath it.
And I haven't missed the heated looks they throw my way, too. Rico's are intense, and he doesn't try to hide his attraction in the least. Matty's heat has an almost manic energy behind it. I've even caught Santiago looking at me with a mixture of something like desire, awe, and a heavy dose of shyness. I get the feeling he doesn't put himself out there very often - doesn't allow himself to be vulnerable.
But clearly there's no future here, right?
All I know is that I like being around them, I'm happy and I feel more myself around them. And I'm rediscovering I kinda like who I am.
After the game Rico and Matty help me load everything in the back of my car while Santiago gives each of my kids a fist bump and proceeds to scan the parking lot.
After closing the back hatch, Rico closes in on me, placing his hands against the car on either side of my head. His gaze is intense, setting me on edge. I swallow hard.
Before I understand what he's doing, Rico slides a card into my hand.
"I have a standing reservation at the Loft. Use it whenever you like."
I look down at the card. It's matte black with shiny gold lettering that says 'The Loft', with a name and a phone number below it - a concierge if I'm guessing. The Loft is one of the most expensive hotels in the city, its elegance and opulence are unmatched.
I go to press it back in his hand. "I can't..." I start, but he presses his finger to my lips.
"You can. And you will."
And with that, he gives me a quick kiss on the cheek before he and the boys say their goodbyes and leave.
Well, then.