9. River
Chapter Nine
RIVER
My body is sore because Theodore is insatiable. Whoever said that men lose their stamina as they get older haven’t met Mr. Kelly. Granted, while he is older than me, he’s not old. After I came, he flipped me over and took me from behind. Even half asleep, the memory is beyond arousing. He’s dirty, and I find myself liking it too much. He touches me like I’m his wet dream and tells me everything he wants to do to me just before he does it.
Every time I thought I was too sensitive and couldn’t take any more, he’d find a way to make me come again. He is magical between the sheets and I’m beginning to think it’s the reason Helena is crazy.
Last night wasn’t about her. I made the decision to push everything out of my mind and focus solely on him. The rest would have to matter in the morning. He’d followed me into my room where I fell asleep in his arms. Despite the turmoil of earlier that night, I felt safe and protected with him. I ignored the little part of my brain that told me it’s a false security—it was enough for me to rest.
At some point in the night, we woke up kissing leisurely, our hands exploring each other's bodies until the passion took over again. Theodore rolled me onto my back, his touch still demanding yet gentler than the rest of the night.
I ran my fingers through his hair, taking all the kisses I could get while he grinded inside of me in ways that stole my breath. I reveled in the feel of his solid body on mine, the way his lips worshiped every inch of me, and the things he whispered in the dark. During the night, I felt as if he was mine and I was his.
Now, I stretch in bed as the harsh light from the sun drops me back into reality. I’m alone and the man isn’t mine. I take a long shower, delaying what may be the writing on the wall. The adrenaline is gone, and he’ll remember that he loves his wife. Things could get awkward. He could give me over to Andrea until this blows over, or I could be out of a place to stay. The bank returned my funds. I may need to buy a ticket back to Atlanta and try again later.
I put on yoga clothes, then finally leave my room. The house is quiet, but I know he’s here. He stands in the kitchen, looking at his phone, with a cup of tea to his right. He’s fully dressed in a button-up and pants as if he has business in the club, but his still damp hair is dark and falling forward. He looks so damn good. What’s worse is now I have the memory of what it’s like to be with him.
He looks up and gives me a tentative smile. His mouth says, “Good morning,” but I can see the contrition in his ocean eyes.
Now that his head is clear, his eyebrows aren’t as relaxed, and his shoulders are slightly bunched. He feels guilty. I knew it was a possibility, but I selfishly wanted to know how it would be between us. I wave because I don’t have much to say. His expression says it all.
“River,” he starts with a sigh. He’s not saying my name the way he said it last night.
Erratic knocking, followed by excessive doorbell ringing, stops whatever he was about to say. It’s okay. I don’t want to hear it. It’ll hurt too much.
“Your wife.”
I point to the door and leave him to deal with that nightmare. I cannot be rejected and deal with the lunatic all at the same time. The studio is beautiful and, of course, better than any I paid to dance in back home. I push that out of my mind and try to focus on the poses. The room must be soundproof because I can barely hear The Kellys' voices. I still feel wound up when I am done, so I go to the bar and work on some of the ballet techniques I used to study.
My body loosens, and since I’m avoiding them, I use the stereo in the studio to play a song from one of the routines I’d learned. I love dance, but I didn’t have the passion necessary to live for dance. I learned in my early twenties that it wouldn’t be a career for me.
I haven’t practiced ballet in at least two years, but the routine comes back to me. I’m halfway through the song when I find my stride, and by the end, I’m happy I remembered the rest. My body is loose and some of the tension finally eases.
Clapping comes from the corner of the room, but I know it’s not applause. It’s the condescending kind that causes some of my muscles to bunch back up. I know who’s there before I even turn around.
“Pathetic. Sloppy. Laughable,” Helena taunts me. “You’re such a low-budget wannabe that you wouldn’t even cut it as the made-for-television version of me.” She holds up a hand. “And I’ve seen some terrible versions.”
“I have no desire to be you,” I say as neutrally as I can. “I haven’t studied ballet in years. It’s just exercise to me.”
Her face scrunches, offended that I don’t share the same love for her craft. She may be looking at me like I’m beneath her, but I’m not the one whose face is red from probably groveling. Looking around her shoulder, I expect Theodore to come remove her like he always does.
“He’s not coming. In fact, don’t expect to see him ever again. He’s giving me time to get rid of you.” Helena holds her head high like I haven’t seen her at her craziest. “We’re staying together because he’ll choose me every time.”
I want to argue with her, but I saw the look on his face before she arrived. Plus, I came to him because my life was in danger, not to get his attention romantically. I’ve had all I’ll probably ever have of him, and there is no point in fighting with his wife of six years, so I wait for her to finish speaking.
She drops a bag at my feet. “Fifteen thousand dollars. This is enough to get you out of our lives. Go pay the thug for your boyfriend and use the rest to get the hell out. The time for mooching is over. Get out!”
I step around her and walk out of the studio. The penthouse is quiet and Theodore is not anywhere I can see. It hurts that it’s ending like this. I would have accepted an amicable goodbye, but Helena doesn’t know how to do that. I power walk to the room because I refuse to cry, especially not in front of her, as I pack up my things. It doesn’t take me a long time to pack because I didn’t have much when I arrived.
She’s standing at my door when I sling the bag over my shoulders. “You forgot the money. I grab the bag and leave without a word. Maybe I did have it right the first time. Maybe he does sleep with other women when his wife is driving him crazy, then goes back to the source. I don’t know. The only thing I know is that I want to put a lot of distance between me and the Kellys. I wasn’t made for this kind of drama. He’s not in the club either, and I stop in the ladies’ bathroom to check the money. She wasn’t joking. Fifteen grand just to get rid of me. I leave ten in the bag and bury the rest at the bottom of my luggage. Looking in the mirror, I make sure I look normal and take a deep breath, like when I went outside the night before all hell broke loose. I glance at the bag in my hand. I have the money this time.
If I’m lucky, I’ll be able to hand it over and go home. That’s the plan, no matter how much I don’t like it. I use the burner to send one last text. I haven’t met Surly, but I don’t trust him or his words either.
The little guy is in my face the moment I step outside. He’s bruised and bandaged up to the point that I wonder about his intelligence.
“Here. Give your boss this money and leave me the hell alone. I don’t know where Mario is and I don’t care.”
He shrugs in a cheap version of the outfits Andrea and Theodore wear and touches my elbow.
“Give it to him yourself. I’m just the errand boy.”
He guides me to his SUV and sighs when I hesitate. “I’m taking you straight to him. I don’t feel the need to hit on you like Von.”
“Where are we going?”
“To his establishment a few blocks over. Now, stop talking.”
I can’t place his accent, but he sounds like he’s from a different country. His hair is combed out of his face and his brown mustache seems out of place, but I’m not the one to tell him that. My stomach is in knots as he drives.
“We pull in front of a restaurant I’ve seen plenty of times but never want to visit. There was something dirty about its appearance and I see that I’m right. The awnings look like they’re about to fall off and the outside needs to be cleaned. The musty smell of the inside ensures that I would have walked out if I’d ever suffered the bad judgment of coming to eat.
Surly doesn’t look like I expected. He’s tall and in shape with bright red hair. He licks his pink lips once he sees me.
“Finally, you are here.”
I hold up the bag. “I told them Mario left me in the dark. I don’t know where he is or what he owes you, but here’s ten thousand dollars.”
He licks his lips again and scans his greenish brown eyes over my body. “The price went up. Too bad you don’t have enough money. Looks like I have to keep you. You can make me more than that.”
“No. I’m not part of your deal. I’m not related to Mario and he’s not coming for me. Take this money and let him make you money.”
I drop the bag on the table and turn away, but the little one steps in front of me. Two more come to my sides.
“Have you ever heard of big fish, little fish?” he asks when I turn around.
“Have you?” It’s amazing when a voice that used to scare me could provide so much comfort at a time like this.
Surly sits up straight, sputtering as he looks up at Andrea. His men step back because Andrea has more. I’m glad he saw my text.
His dark hair kinda falls in his face, enhancing the blue of his eyes. He’s impeccably dressed as usual; his clothes make him look like a high-powered businessman, but his eyes make him look like a killer.
“You didn’t answer my question, Surly. Have you heard of it?” The ice in his tone sends chills through me and I’m not the one he’s addressing. “How many times do you need to be warned to leave Trunk’s girl alone. Aren’t you missing enough men?”
Surly turns redder and slams his hand on the desk. “Your dad made your legacy. I’m a self-made man. You’re not shit without your crew.”
Andrea cracks his neck, and a hint of a smile plays at his lips. “If you think so, we can have both crews stand down and we can settle your beef man-to-man, but first thing's first. Get her out of your mind. Don't speak to her, look at her, talk to her, or about her again.” He moves closer and leans on the desk. “Or you will find out why I’m in charge.” The smile on his face is sickening if you’re the recipient. “Please try me, Surly. Please.”
He picks up the bag and looks inside. “What was the original amount Mario owed you? No markups, no bullshit. Give me the total.”
Surly gives him a hard look, but when Andrea tilts his head, he starts speaking. “Three thousand.”
Andrea whistles low. “A seven-thousand-dollar markup and you make a play at the girl? Aren’t we overcompensating?” He reaches into the bag and drops some money on the desk. “I’ll leave you four thousand because I understand business and consider that debt settled.” He thrusts the bag back in my hands, but his eyes remain on Surly. “Let this be a lesson. You should have taken the bag from her and kept going but trying to be the big dick lost you money. I don’t give a fuck what you do to Mario when you see him, but you and her are square. She should have never been a part of your bullshit.” Andrea looks around, equally as unimpressed as I am. “Learn your place, Surly. If I have to stop what I’m doing to check your bullshit again, I’ll kill you and burn this fucking place down.” He fixes him with a cold look. “Do you understand?”
Looking at his men, he tells them to take me outside. He starts to walk behind us, then snaps and turns back to Surly. “You better hope she has the best luck in the world. If she so much as breaks a nail, I’m going to assume you had something to do with it and you will meet my wrath.” He smiles like he didn’t just deliver a threat. “Have a good day.”
He comes outside wearing shades like he just finished a business deal. If power made a woman horny, Andrea would be getting some right now if he’d saved anyone else. I finish transferring the other half of the money to the original bag then turn to him.
“Am I allowed to hug you?”
He smirks but nods. I give his hard body the biggest hug I can muster with him towering over me. He releases a soft chuckle, but I know he’s ready for me to let him go.
“Thank you for responding to my text. I was afraid he wasn’t going to play fair.” I hold up the bag. “Can you give this back to the Kellys, please? It's ten thousand. I’m keeping a thousand for expenses. I’m going home now that it's over. Thank you again.”
He nods and holds the bag, and I know that he knows something isn’t quite right, but he gets a call. His expression tells me he’ll look into it later, but I plan on acting like Mario and ghosting. There is nothing else for me here.
The quick walk back to my apartment feels strange now. I’d gotten used to living in the penthouse; living in someone else’s life that isn’t mine. My door is broken with an eviction notice attached to it. I'm not surprised the apartment is ransacked. Anything that could be valuable is gone. Seeing it just makes me numb. I step over the broken furniture and go into my room. Looking through the piles, I collect my favorite clothing items and my luggage. The landlord can worry about the rest.
My day has been shitty, but it doesn’t stop me from buying an overpriced one-way flight out of town. Everything feels blurry as I move on autopilot. The tears don’t come until I’m thousands of feet in the air.