Chapter 3 Verity
Verity
"Can you serve that stronzo?" I had to strain to hear Lily over the swell of noise in the bar. "He gives me the creeps." When I looked up, a tattooed guy in a leather jacket sat staring at us. From the expensive gold watch on his wrist, he wasn’t here to take advantage of ‘Happy Hour’.
Lorenzo's mostly catered to underpaid office workers and the student crowd. Cheap beer and even cheaper wine appealed to people short of cash and willing to overlook the poor quality of the alcohol.
What Lorenzo's lacked in award-winning wine it more than made up for in ambiance. But it was mid-week, and we were in the middle of a lull, so the creepy guy stood out.
I shoved a bowl of lemons at Lily. "Here, finish slicing these while I take his order."
The man gave me the creeps, too, but Lily was younger than me, so I felt protective toward her.
"Beer or wine?" His smile lacked any hint of warmth, which made the hairs on my arms stand proud. My gaze snagged on the neck tattoo peeking out from his shirt collar - a black scorpion.
"What do you recommend?" I couldn't place his accent. Even though he spoke flawless Italian, he wasn’t a Neapolitan native.
"The house wine tastes like vinegar, so I recommend sticking to bottled beer." If he left us a one-star review on Trip Adviser, I gave no shits.
He nodded, apparently satisfied with my recommendation. "A bottle of Peroni."
I pulled a bottle from the fridge, uncapped it, and passed it over the bar. When he handed me a 20 Euro note, he made sure his fingers brushed mine. A shiver of distaste ran through me, but I hid it behind a fake smile.
Aside from neck tattoo, he seemed like a regular guy. Late 30s/early 40s, at a guess, with callused hands and a trim body. More criminal than accountant, although I couldn't see any obvious weapons bulging on his person.
When I tried to hand him his change, something about the man made me want to step away and never look back.
"Keep the change. Consider it a tip."
I thanked him with another fake smile and hurried down the bar, eager to put some distance between us. A few moments later, a crowd of laughing students walked in, and for the next twenty minutes, Lily and I worked flat out. By the time I looked up again, the man had gone.
Midnight soon arrived. A backing tape of dance music and chatter pulsed around me, making my head pound.
I longed for my bed. Exhaustion had slammed me hard around 11 PM. This was the sixth late shift I'd worked in as many days. I wouldn't normally do so many without a break, but work was a useful distraction from my shitty life.
Thea had been making concerned noises about my mental health. She'd quietly suggested I see a counselor the last time we spoke, around a fortnight ago. Because I didn't want to look my demons in the eye, I'd deflected and avoided her calls and messages ever since.
My sister didn't understand. Her life and mine were poles apart, even though we had been through many of the same traumatic events as children.
The only difference in our lived experiences was our father had chosen her over me, honed her into his weapon while locking me away in the attic like a box of old photos.
I knew Thea had dealt with a ton of abuse to protect me, but part of me wished she hadn't. Maybe then I wouldn't feel so guilty every day.
But, as I tried to remind myself, she now had the life she'd always dreamed of. And I… well, I had no life at all.
"Anton's here." I looked up from preparing a pitcher of cheap wine for a group of young women to see my sort-of boyfriend pushing his way through the remaining customers.
"I thought you were having an early night," he gritted out with a scowl when I finally had the chance to talk to him.
"Leila called in sick."
"I don't like you working here." My stomach curdled. He'd not been as vocal about my bar job the last few days, but my long work shifts were a bone of contention between us.
"I need the money." Thea had given me a credit card with no limit, but Anton didn’t know that. He had no interest in my family. Or my life, aside from how it impacted him.
"No, you don't. I said I'd look after you, baby. Move in with me like we discussed." He reached out and fastened his fingers around my wrist. When I tried to pull back, he dug his nails into my skin hard enough to leave half-moon bruises. "I'm tired of being second best."
"I spend all my days off with you," I pointed out, ignoring the woman waving her phone at me.
Since I met him three months ago, the few friends I'd made here in Naples had long since drifted away. They'd got fed up with my flakiness, with me always canceling our plans to avoid an argument with Anton.
Even though I knew how toxic Anton was, I couldn't seem to break it off. Attracting domineering, red flag men seemed to be my specialty.
Nothing said daddy issues more than an unhealthy relationship. Or so Saoirse had told me the last time we talked. This was shortly after I admitted Anton had hit me during an argument about working late at the bar.
"A few measly hours is not enough. I'm sick of you spending all your nights in this shit-hole. When you're not working, you just want to sleep. I’m fucking sick of it."
"Anton, please…" His expression tightened when I pulled away to serve the woman with the phone. Before I could return to our pointless conversation, four men took her place, flirting loudly while ordering their drinks.
"Hey, sexy, are you free tomorrow?" The cutest of the four leaned over the bar with a sexy smirk.
"Sorry, no. My boyfriend's sat right there.
" Under different circumstances, I might have flirted back.
Instead, I forced a smile and pointed to Anton, who glared at the men and then me.
Anyone would think I encouraged guys to chat me up, but I never did.
It was just part of the job. Lily got hit on as much as me, if not more.
The cute guy sighed in disappointment, but after some side-eye in Anton’s direction, didn't push it.
By the time I returned to Anton, his cruel lips had flattened into a thin line.
"See? That's exactly why you can't work here any longer! I won't stand for my girlfriend encouraging other men to flirt with her. It's bad for my reputation."
As the mayor's son, Anton had a public profile, which meant he appeared in the press from time to time.
"Like I said, I need the money," I reminded him again, doing my best to maintain a calm facade. Relying on Thea to support me wasn't an option, even though she regularly offered to send me money.
The main reason I'd come to Italy for a few months was to be independent. Which meant no longer living off my sister. I didn't want Thea's protection, and she needed to stop treating me like a kid.
"And like I keep telling you, I can support you." Anton sighed as if I was the most ungrateful girlfriend ever. "You know I'm happy to take care of my sweet girl."
Part of me wondered whether he was right. Perhaps I was an ungrateful bitch. If I said yes and quit my job, I'd have more time to relax. More time to sleep. And I wouldn't have to worry about money.
And yet… something stopped me.
The small voice in my head reminded me how mercurial Anton's mood swings could be, and if I moved in with him, I'd have no respite from his rage. No means of escaping if it all went to shit.
Did I really want to end up in another prison?
The thought of anyone locking me up again steeled my resolve.
Perhaps Anton wasn't as bad as my father, but they shared many traits.
Saoirse was right. I needed to end this farce of a relationship and leave.
Move to another city. Or catch a flight to Koh Samui and join the girls I'd met when I first arrived here.
"No, Anton. I don't want to live with you. I like my studio apartment." It was tiny and overlooked a filthy alleyway, where the local cat population yowled all night long, but it was mine.
He opened his mouth to argue, but I grabbed some dirty glasses and moved down the bar to avoid the drama. Lily smiled sympathetically and then left to clear tables as the final few patrons finished their drinks.
Anton sat seething on his bar stool, stabbing away at his phone while I washed glasses and cleaned up. I had hoped he might get the message and leave, but apparently not.
The longer he sat there, scowling at me, the more my anxiety spiked. Why didn't he listen?
"Look, I think we need a break from one another," I blurted when I couldn't stand the atmosphere between us any longer.
He shook his head, dismissing my suggestion.
"No. You're not leaving me."
"Are you OK to lock up?" Lily appeared at my side, her gaze flitting between me and Anton. "I can stay if you like?"
I would have liked some backup, but Lily had started her shift earlier than me.
"No, it's fine." I pasted a weak smile on my face. "I'm nearly done."
"OK, if you're sure?" She didn't seem convinced. Hardly surprising given the animosity emanating from Anton, who looked half a second away from exploding.
"Yeah. I'll see you tomorrow evening."
"Cool." She flashed a lukewarm grin at me, grabbed her bag from the back room, and left, leaving me alone with Anton.
"I mean it, Anton. I'm done," I repeated as I switched the lights off behind the bar. "Please go." Walking back to my studio seemed like a bad idea tonight, even though I usually preferred to walk, as it saved money.
I unlocked my phone, noting the long list of missed calls from my sister. Something must have happened, but now wasn't the time to check. I'd call her once I got home.
I opened the Uber app, but before I could order a car, Anton knocked my phone from my hand. It hit the floor and slid under a table, out of reach. I froze, fear locking my limbs in place. Without a phone, I had no way of calling for help.
Anton loomed over me, using his height to intimidate.
"I'm not done, Verity. Remember what happened the last time you tried to end us? I won't let you go." Of course I remembered. It was the first time he'd truly lost his temper with me. The first time he'd hit me hard enough to leave visible bruises.
Not anywhere someone would see, but still.
"Please don't hit me." I hated how pathetic I sounded. How broken he made me feel.
He moved closer, caging me in so I couldn't escape.
"If you behaved, I wouldn't need to do this, but you've upset me tonight. Bad girls deserve to be punished." He brushed a lock of hair away from my cheek, the warm gentleness of the gesture at odds with the icy rage in his eyes.
My sister wouldn't let a man like Anton treat her this way. She'd have fought back. Hurt him. Made him pay for daring to suggest he owned her.
But Thea and I occupied different worlds, like night and day.
Anton wasn't especially tall or strong, but he still towered over me. Dario had taught me how to defend myself once I hit my teens. Only I couldn't remember any of the moves we'd practiced. My brain had turned to granite, along with my body.
I tried to speak, to defend myself, but my throat closed. Anton smiled when a lone tear dripped down my face and hit the grimy floor. He stepped back, and for a heady moment, I thought he'd calmed down enough to accept my request for a relationship break.
Surely he could see this wasn't going anywhere? I planned to leave Italy soon. He knew that.
The fist came from nowhere. A sharp crack ricocheted through my head, and I fell sideways, hitting a bar stool on my way down. Then he grabbed my ponytail and yanked me to my feet.
"You should have listened!" Spittle flew everywhere. "I warned you what would happen."
As he raised his fist again, the door from the street swung open. My befuddled brain reminded me I'd forgotten to lock it. Anton and I both looked to see who'd walked into the bar after closing time. Then a familiar Irish voice growled,
"Get your fucking hands off her, you bastard, before I kill you."