The Dominator : a dark mafia romance

Chapter 14

Five Days Later…

For five days, I stayed in the bedroom other than to make trips to the kitchen, the Ms. Pacman machine, and back. I read, watched TV, and played games online. I’d gotten my period for four days and now it was gone. I got a big zit on my chin that was now pretty well near gone, too. My knees were almost healed, my throat no longer had a bruise (not on the outside but I suspected I was internally scarred for life from it).

I was raging for sugar or something comforting other than ice cream, anything but ice cream, but Sarah had no other junk in the house other than sugary cereal, which was bizarre because she was a sugar hater but purchased several boxes of cereal with the word “Sugar” in a huge-ass font on the box so I threw myself headfirst into said sugary boxes of cereal, using them to drown out the emotions about my life, my parents, my future, my relationship. Sarah brought me food. Sometimes I ate it, sometimes I didn’t. I woke up every night several times. I think I was looking for him, but I wouldn’t allow myself to acknowledge it.

I ignored Sarah and the four guards at the house. Yeah, he’d left me here but doubled the security. Twice a day, at least, Sarah asked me if I’d checked my phone and I’d always say that it was charging. It was plugged in on the nightstand but turned off. I didn’t want to turn it on because I didn’t want to know whether or not he’d messaged me. If he had, I didn’t want to read them. If he hadn’t, I didn’t want to know either because that’d make me consider the fact that he hadn’t bothered to message me. Stupid girl.

Yesterday, Sarah had said that Tessa and Lisa showed up to visit me, but I feigned a headache and made her get rid of them. I missed Luc’s baby shower. I knew Sarah went. She came up to tell me she was going but didn’t invite me. I suspected Tommy didn’t want me leaving the house, anyway. And what good would it do for Tommy’s family, friends and everyone related to the Ferranos that I hadn’t met yet to meet Tommy’s fiancée, a member of the walking dead?

After five days, he came back. The door swung open and there he was. I was in bed with my laptop playing Texas Hold ‘Em poker online with fake money, a lot of fake money as apparently I was some sort of poker savant (ever since losing my shirt, literally, at strip poker to him). My hand was inside a box of Sugar Crisp. It was 11:30 at night. I was in sweats, a messy bun in my hair. I’d had a shower that morning, but I didn’t even brush my hair, just shoved it up.

He dropped his suitcase on the floor and threw his jacket on the chair in the corner by the window. He folded his arms and stared at me. I glanced in his direction and looked back to my screen. I unceremoniously shoved another handful of the sticky cereal into my mouth and pressed the button to fold from the game on the screen and licked my fingers. The tension level in the room shot up to near nuclear as he spoke, no roared,

“Where the FUCK is your engagement ring?”

My blood ran cold.

Suddenly he was in my face, the cereal and the laptop swept off the bed onto the floor.

I looked at the nightstand where the ring sat and then up to him. His eyes landed on it and then he picked it up and shoved it on my sticky finger. I made a painful squeal and swallowed hard. My heart thumped painfully in my chest and in my ears. His face was distorted into a snarl.

“That never comes off your fucking finger!” He glared at me. “It has a GPS in it. If anyone tries to take you again, it’s how I’ll fucking find you. I see that ring off your finger for any reason that tells me you’re planning to run. You planning to run?”

I shook my head no.

“No?” Heat and rage were all I could see in his eyes.

I shook my head again.

“Why was it off?” he demanded.

My head dropped to the pillow and I covered my face with the blanket. He ripped it right off me and tossed the blanket behind him so that it fell on the floor with the cereal and the laptop. I shrieked and pulled a pillow against myself and backed up against the headboard.

“What is your fucking problem?” he shouted. He picked up my phone and turned it on and it made a whole bunch of bleeps. Obviously, he’d been messaging me, lots.

“Done feeling sorry for yourself yet?”

“You’re the one who left!” I yelled, my voice hoarse. It might’ve been days since I’d spoken.

“You’ve been fucking catatonic. Obviously, you didn’t care,” he retorted.

“I don’t fucking care!” I retorted snottily. “I’m tired of fucking caring. Everything I care about means nothing. My father, my mother, you. Nothing.”

“Why am I nothing?”

“You’re not nothing. I’m nothing. I’m just…” I put my hands over my face.

He sat on the bed and leaned forward and took my hands off my face and weaved his fingers through mine. His face was seriously pissed off-looking, but his touch was gentle.

“I told you that you’re everything.”

“What do you want from me? You want to hit me? Go ahead and hit me. You want to fuck me? Go ahead and–”

He let go of me and got up. “Fuck,” he stared at me a beat and then said, “I’m taking a shower.”

I lay there for a second and then lifted the phone, which he’d tossed on the bed, and scrolled through the texts sent throughout the time he was gone.

Come down to the office, baby.

Tia?

I’m flying to Italy with my brother for a few days. Tell no one. Just that I’m away on business. I’ll text when I land. Love you.

P.S Delete my texts after you read them.

I’m here. You okay?

I’m laying here wishing you were beside me, baby. I can’t seem to sleep without you beside me. I should’ve brought you. I know you’re upset. I’m sorry you’ve been through so much in the last month. I’m working on fixing things. I’m on that road to making things better. Promise I’ll find a way. Love you.

I heard Etta James on the radio today in a restaurant and miss you so much. I didn’t know I was lonely without you until I had you. Now I don’t think I would want to live without you. Can’t wait to marry you and dance again with you to that song.

Then there was a link to a YouTube video link. Then another text.

I miss the smell of your hair how you wrinkle your nose at me the way I wake up every morning with you all wrapped around me. Love how you keep wearing pink since I bought that pink fishing rod for you. Miss you. Write back?

That was four days ago. He’d given up on messaging me. I touched the link to the video and it opened a YouTube window and started to play the Etta James song. It was playing to images from the Disney Wall-e movie. I loved that movie.

As the song filled the air, so much emotion surged through me I thought I was going to fall over. When she sang about her heart wrapped up in clover the night she looked at him I thought about us in that field on his farm with me in the grass, him over me with sunrays practically bursting from him and how much emotion I’d felt in that moment.

I thought about him dancing with me and singing this song in my ear. I pushed away thoughts of him screaming in my face with his belt in his hand and then I saw that couple on the stage in Vegas embracing one another after he gave her what she needed and she gave him what he needed. I thought about how amazing it was when I declared I was his in the bathroom in the hotel that night.

The look in his eyes, the heat, the emotion. The freedom in being his was something I wanted now. Right now.

When I gave into being his, I didn’t have to feel anything but the bliss of giving myself over to him. I put the phone down and ran to the bathroom and hit the brakes when I got to the shower door.

He was still in the shower. Did I want to climb in there with him and bridge the gap between us? I was so fucking scared of what I felt for him, of what he’d made me into in such a short amount of time. I was so scared of who he could be. Did I embrace our relationship and take the good with the bad? Or did I stay in this shell, this sub-existence I was in for the past several days?

This man bought me and at first, I was so infuriated about it because it made me a thing that could be bought but thinking about him doing it to end his father’s hold on my father, it was something that spoke more of him thinking of me instead of himself. But it was still me being traded among these men like property.

Was it so awful to be the property of Tommy Ferrano? He loved me. He wanted a life with me. What kind of life we’d have, I didn’t really know, but I was the one he wanted to seesaw through light and dark with. He’d sent me lovely messages while he was gone. He’d missed me. I was here feeling sorry for myself while he was off trying to fix things to make our lives better and missing me while I was ignoring him. Regret lanced through me.

I pulled my sweatshirt up and over my head and unhooked my bra. I took my pants and panties down and pulled my socks off and then I opened the shower door. He turned around and looked at me and finger combed his wet hair out of his eyes and sighed. I pulled the elastic out of my hair and dropped it and then wrapped my arms around him and put my cheek against his chest.

He didn’t put his arms around me, just stood there. Maybe I’d pushed him too far. My heart squeezed painfully.

“Tommy,” I whispered into his chest and then touched my lips to his wet skin.

“What?” His voice was cold.

“I’ve been a naughty girl.”

His torso stiffened.

“I’ve been cold and distant and living in my head and I need you to bring me back to life. Show me who I belong to, that it’s not okay for me to be like this, to feel like a robot.”

His hands gripped my shoulders and he stared right into my eyes, straight into my soul, even.

I needed this. We needed it.

“You’re free to go,” he said.

I frowned. “Huh?”

“You’re free. Go.”

He left me in the shower. He just left me there.

I pulled my chin off the floor and got into a bathrobe and when I came out of the bathroom, he wasn’t there. I exited via the patio doors and hurried down the stairs, water still dripping off me in just the long white robe and nothing on my feet and saw that all the garage doors were shut. The gates were closed and there were guards mulling about. I didn’t think he’d left that fast, so I went back into the house through the main floor patio doors.

Not in the kitchen. Not in his office. Not in the family room. The door to the back hall was open.

I went down the back hall and heard thudding downstairs. I ran back up to the bedroom and queued up the song on my phone I’d been listening to multiple times a day from the laptop during my poker playing, and quickly blotted up the water in my hair with a towel, then as I got to the bottom of the basement steps I slipped it into the pocket of the bathrobe. I could hear the thud, thud, thud very loudly. I found him in the gym. He was in just a pair of black gym shorts and he was beating the ever-loving life out of a big heavy bag, his skin still wet from the shower or maybe wet with sweat.

I stood behind him.

“Hey,” I said softly.

He flinched and then started hitting the bag harder.

“Tommy.”

“You have until the count of ten to get outta my sight,” he said, not turning around.

“What? Why?”

“Go upstairs, pack your shit, and go. The guys’ll open the gate. Go. You’re free.”

“Why?”

“I can’t control this rage in me. You stay and I will break you. I know it, Athena. You know it. You’re almost broken now. You need to go now before I finish you off. I’m that fucked. And you’re that close. Take your casino money, hock the ring, and go. Leave town. Have a nice life. Don’t ever let me know where you are. Don’t.”

I stared at the muscled details of his back as he resumed punching. I stepped to the side and caught his profile. His jaw was tight, his eyes were narrow, and he was punching the bag so hard.

“One,” he said through gritted teeth and then there was a loud thud as he punched the bag.

“I don’t wanna go.”

“Two,” he said and punched the bag harder.

“Tommy, I don’t.”

“Three. I don’t have the necklace, Athena. It can’t stop me,” He snapped and punched again a bunch of times. Pow, pow, pow pow pow.

“I’m sorry I got stuck in my head the last few days. I’ve been through a lot. It’s just been, I just need…”

“Four.”

POW! I think it must’ve been with all of his strength.

“I need you. I want us to figure this out. Together, we can–”

“Five!” he yelled and then he turned around and faced me and whipped his gloves off and to the floor.

I stood still, staring him in the eyes, summoning courage while facing the rage emerging on his face.

“You’re not fucking Dumbo the goddamn elephant who needs the feather to fly, Tommy Ferrano. You don’t need the necklace. I’ll be the necklace. Fuck me, take me however you need to, then hold me afterwards and tell me you love me. Do what you need to do for us both to get back to where we need to be.”

I took a step forward.

“Six,” he said it softly, shaking his head back and forth, his voice and his eyes stone cold, warning me.

I took a step back. “What happens if I’m still here when you get to ten? Are you gonna hurt me? Are you going to…what? Kill me?”

“Seven.” He took one step forward.

“Babe,” I pleaded.

“If I get to ten, Tia,” he growled. “If I get there and you’re here, you are getting hurt. Because it means you’re never allowed to leave. This is your one chance, baby girl. One chance. Take it or accept me for the fucked up, sadistic prick I am. Take it or be prepared to be everything I need you to be for me. The love of my life. The only thing that keeps me from going postal. Be sure you’re ready, ready to be there for me, to be what I need whether that means I need to hold you, spank you, whip you, fuck you, destroy you.”

I gulped.

His voice was low, guttural; words came through clenched teeth. “Eight. Make your mind up right the fuck now!”

The room might as well have been devoid of oxygen.

“Nine.”

He folded his arms across his chest and his brows were up. I stared at him. And then I opened my mouth and closed it. Then I opened it again and blew out a long breath, then I turned my back on him and went to leave. I got three steps away and I stopped in my tracks and stood there with my back to him.

He said nothing. I stood still. Time stood still.

Then, after an eternity, he said, “Ten.” His voice sounded hoarse, pained. And that’s when I started to run for the stairs.

A few paces and he tackled me to the floor. He was on top of me.

“What in the fuck?” He had my arms pinned above my head.

I went limp and looked at him.

“You wait until I get to ten and that’s when you decide to run?” Rage shot out of his eyes and his voice boomed like thunder. “What’s that supposed to fucking mean?”

“It means it’s too late. I can’t go.”

“Do you or don’t you want to fucking go?”

“I don’t. But I wanted you to stop me, show me you couldn’t let me go.” I wriggled one arm free from his grasp, took the iPhone out of my robe pocket, and hit play on the video app; it played the Stone Sour version of Wicked Game. It was the closest thing I’d found to the version we’d heard in Vegas.

He grabbed me roughly and flipped me onto my belly, sending my phone sliding several feet away. The song kept playing. Then my robe was yanked off me and I was naked on the cold basement floor. My hips were lifted and I heard him fumble and then he impaled me with one slam of his hips. He had me a few inches off the floor by holding my throat and his mouth was right at my ear,

“You’re mine,” he growled.

“Yeah,” I breathed.

“Fuck!” he grunted.

“I love you,” I whimpered.

“What have you fucking done you stupid, beautiful girl?” he moaned, his voice strangled sounding. He kept pounding into me from behind.

“I know,” I breathed, “I couldn’t help it. I fell in love with you. I’m yours.”

He let go of my throat, grabbed my hair roughly and groaned into my ear as he pushed maybe ten or fifteen times before he came inside of me as the song hit the chorus.

Then I was up, off the floor, in his arms. He grabbed my phone and stopped the song from playing, tossed the robe over me, my face buried in his neck, and he carried me up the stairs and back to our bedroom where he was ready to go immediately and where he then fucked me hard for the next hour or ten, I didn’t know, not letting me come, just pounding into me, using his cock and his mouth and his fingers to repeatedly and torturously bring me right to the edge, to the brink, and then stopping and pounding into me some more, saying dirty, filthy words into my ear about how I was his to fuck, how hard he was going to fuck me, about how I didn’t get to come until he allowed me to come, and that today he’d fuck me not only until I couldn’t move but until he couldn’t move.

He repeatedly slapped my ass, pinched my nipples hard, he bit into my shoulder, not drawing blood but definitely leaving a mark. He came again, and then he was almost immediately hard again.

He took me. Again. At the end, he drove his fingers into my sopping wetness and then he wet his cock with me and then told me, “Your ass is mine.”

I tried to get away, squealing, “Wait!” but he didn’t wait. He got me on my side lying down and he pushed his cock slowly into my ass, taking my anal virginity.

At first it burned, it scorched, but then he told me, “Give in to me; relax and let go, baby,” and when the word ‘go’ left his lips, my muscles loosened and the feeling transcended, changed from pain to something else, something I wouldn’t quite call pleasure at first but in my head I think it was about giving in that made the pain change.

While he was deep in my ass he grabbed my clit, tweaked it and said, “Come for me, baby.” As he circled it fast, it began to build and build.

Finally, getting to the peak, my legs shook so hard I couldn’t control them, and he was moaning into my ear, rotating his hips against my backside. I came harder than I’d ever come in my life. I was done; it was as if a thousand pieces of me had shattered all over the bed.

She was in my bed, in my arms, we were tired and sore in all the right places and for her, some of the wrong places. Almost all was right in the world. Almost.

“Are you awake?” I asked.

“Sorta,” she answered, her head on my chest, her leg locked over mine, one of her hands up at my face with her fingers tangled in my hair.

“You okay?” I asked.

“My legs are still shaking. And my bum hurts,” she said softly and then she started to laugh. I laughed a little and then we were both laughing, holding each other, kissing one another, and then she had tears in her eyes, a beautiful smile on her face. I kissed the tears away and held her tighter.

She snuggled into me and whispered, “I think you totally destroyed my ass.”

I laughed a little. “It’ll feel better tomorrow.”

She let out a dreamy sigh. “I love you.”

“I love you, baby. Thank you.”

“No, thank you,” she answered and I squeezed her tighter.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“Don’t,” I said.

“No, I am. I just… I went backwards when I found all that out and just shut down, I…” she trailed off.

“It’s okay,” I whispered and kissed her forehead. “You’ve been through a lot.”

We lay still together for a long time and neither of us spoke. Finally, when it was obvious we weren’t going to sleep, she looked up at me and ran her thumb across my lower lip.

“Tell me about your trip.”

I leaned sideways and shifted and then reached into the sheets and pulled off three or four sticky pieces of puffed wheat cereal that was stuck to my thigh. I gave her a funny look.

She laughed, cackled even. Laughed for so hard and so long she made me remember her age. Barely an adult, still young enough and still Tia enough to giggle uncontrollably like that. It was cute.

Maybe all was not lost. Not yet. I tossed the cereal on the nightstand and when she regained her composure I dug into my story.

“Dare and I went to see his mother.”

Her expression went serious.

“She wouldn’t tell us shit. We tried to dig into the past and she wouldn’t talk. She was like a cornered animal. Dare got pissed. But then as we were leaving, her husband stopped us, and we went for a drive with him. He knew what my father had put her through, he knew a lot of shit. He said it took him years to earn her trust and that she was that broken from Pop. The guy’s just headed into end stage Cancer so he told us he has nothing to lose and that it’d give him some degree of peace to tell us things that might mean change for the family, for Annette’s kids and grandkids. My father was looking responsible for the death of his third wife. He almost killed Annette, too. Annette escaped with the kids because he was a sadistic psychopath. Used to beat her. Used to tie her up during sex.”

I stopped and swallowed, letting that sink in for her, before continuing.

“And because she got the real idea of what he got up to in his business life she decided to run. He tracked her down in Italy, hauled the kids back and left her there threatening to kill her if she turned back up. He allowed her to see the kids once a year but that was it. He’s responsible for the death of your uncle, too. It was a power play. It got him Joe’s end of the profits and let him take the business to the next level and it was supposed to get him your mother, too. They split because of his temper and because of what he was getting up to in business. But then he sweet-talked her into leaving your father and somehow she found out about Joe and that’s when she left and had the abortion, an abortion she chose to have, not was forced to have. Your father might not even be aware of it.

She confided in Annette that the pregnancy by my pop was a product of rape. They traded war stories, stayed in touch almost until your mother died. It was like therapy for the both of them. I still don’t know if he killed her or not. We know the doctor who did the abortion was killed in a car accident after my father found out, too. Pop had a thing for killing people in their cars. I’m out, baby. I’m out of this life. I just need to make a few moves and it’s over.”

She was quiet. All traces of her comical outburst gone. Way gone.

“Babe?”

She looked contemplative. “Are you confronting him, are you–”

I cut her off. “No fucking way. He would not hesitate to snuff me out.”

“Tommy, surely not…”

“Yeah, Tia. Surely so. My father believes that without 100% loyalty, you’re an enemy. Blood means nothing in the face of betrayal. I found out he killed his cousin a few years before Joe, too, over a stupid business disagreement. He knows I’m digging around. I’ve found out more shit than I wanted to even know. Stuff that would make your stomach turn. What I do about it is what’ll be the ultimate test. You know how I’ve tested you a few times? Guess I learned that from him; learned too much from him. You have no idea how many times he tempted and tested me and my brother over the years to make us prove ourselves. Would you trust your father after all you’ve found out?”

“Point taken.”

“I’m gonna try to get him to retire. Dare and I are making a few key moves, and then we’re out of 30% of the lines of business we’re in right now. That’s the stuff that has risk, anything illegal whatsoever. Pop’s moving outta the country. He doesn’t like what we’ve done, we deal then. This is gonna take time, but we’ll be working our exit strategy pronto. We’ll end the shady relationships as soon as is feasible.”

“Dario’s on board?”

“Yep.”

“The idea of you without the crime, Tommy? That’s just…it’s amazing.” Her eyes were glistening with happiness.

I gave her a squeeze. “It won’t be overnight but it will happen. I don’t need the risk. The business can be run without it. And if Pop can’t deal, I have enough dough put away to do something else, without him.”

She snuggled into my shoulder and traced my tattoo lines with her fingers. I loved when she did that. We were quiet for a while. I ran my fingers up and down her arm. Then I heard her breathing even out.

She’d passed another test, one I didn’t really realize I’d been giving her at first. I lay there most of the night, absorbing the feel of her, knowing bone deep that even if she’d started to run when I got even to two or three, I’d have stopped her. As much as I wanted her safe, her pain gone, there was just no way would I have ever let her go. I was too fucking selfish. That she didn’t wanna go was a soothing balm for my pain. That she wanted me to chase her down and show her I’d never let her go made my heart sing. I knew that soulmates were real. I had rock solid confirmation that she was made for me. Pop got one thing right, even if it was pure evil that he’d done it at all and even if I was wrong to take it.

My brother wasn’t as surprised as I expected him to be when I had finally talked to him about my findings. Turns out he had been noticing things over the years, too, things that didn’t add up. He had an okay relationship with his mother but said she was always on edge whenever they saw each other. He said that it wasn’t a natural relationship, and he knew Pop had her afraid of her own shadow. I needed to make sure that I didn’t become the man Pop was. I was worried I was close. Dario felt the same.

The night we got the truth from Annette’s husband, Tony, we sat and got drunk and talked all night about it. My brother said he saw Pop backhand his ma one night when me and the girls were asleep. He’d come out for a glass of water and saw Pop send her flying across the room. Dare said that when Debbie had cheated on him his first instinct was to beat the shit out of her, but instead he beat the guy because he’d decided as a little kid that he’d never hit a woman.

My brother was closer to me than anyone in the world and I couldn’t believe that with all the talks we’d had about how we’d run the company once Pop retired that we never once sat and talked in any depth about Pop’s violent streak, about how demanding of a prick he was, about suspicions that the man was darker than anyone knew. We were raised to be loyal to him and that always seemed to win out.

Dare said he thought Pop was running some side businesses underground and had thought it for years, thinking it was because he didn’t wanna jeopardize some of his important relationships with influential people so kept shadier stuff secret. Dare thought Pop was too greedy to not profit off the heavier drugs. He didn’t need the money, but he wanted it. I hadn’t noticed some of the things Dare had noticed because I was too busy trying to prove myself to the megalomaniac.

“Tommy,” she whispered to me while I was deep in thought.

“Yeah, baby?” I’d thought she was asleep.

“I moved your guns.”

“You what?”

“The guns under the bed were freaking me out. I gave them to James. He’s not working tonight, so I wanted to tell you.”

“Baby, guns protect you. You shouldn’t be afraid of them.” Why hadn’t Jimmy told me? I’d seen him on my way in today, had a fifteen-minute debriefing with him.

“I was…afraid of myself,” she said quietly.

“Oh, babe.” I kissed her. I was going to be the ruin of her. She was better off without me. Too bad I didn’t have the decency to make her go.

“I just wanted to tell you so that if someone came to hurt you… you wouldn’t reach and have nothing to defend yourself but the knife.”

“Don’t stress. Go to sleep, baby girl.” I gave her a squeeze and got out of bed. “Be right back.”

When I woke up in the morning, Tommy was gone, I vaguely remembered him kissing me goodbye. I woke up to the sound of the phone text alert.

Tommy: Baby, I’m busy with stuff today so I won’t see you till late tonight. My sister wants to pick you up and take you to the salon for nails then lunch. If you want to go, tell Nino. Let me know. Love you. Xo.

Me: Yes! Thanks, baby.

Tommy: Shit, I’ll have to get you a debit card copies of my credit cards made. I’ll have cash dropped off for you.

Me: It’s okay, I have a bit in my account and I have my Lost Wages money in your underwear drawer.

Tommy: Oh that’s what that was? I saw that and thought you were paying me for sex.

Me: LOL. $5K isn’t enough for the awesome sex you give me. Esp. last night. Oo

Tommy: I’ll give you a discount. Fiancée’s rate.

Me: Haha. Any requests from the salon?

Tommy: Requests?

Tommy: Wait! Don’t cut your hair short!

Me: No, just a trim but I was thinking maybe I’d get my first Brazilian.

Tommy: mm…but not much of a trim, k? It needs to be long! Your hair on your head, I mean. haha.

Me: Don’t worry, I’ll make sure there’s enough left for you to grab onto. On my head, I mean. lol. ;)

Tommy: Mmm. Making me hard here and I’m in public. I might have to spank you for that.

I chewed my lip. Sexting was fun. I was beaming at how fun and easy these texts were today. So different from the tone around here lately. As I was closing the message, I got another message in from a number I didn’t recognize.

Hey Tia, it’s Tess. Wanna go with moi for a mani/pedi? I have Sarah watching the boys ALL DAY :) We can have lunch, too. Tommy wants Nino to drive us.

I replied.

Hey and YES, absolutely! What time should I be ready?

Then I wrote back to Tommy,

I look forward to it. G2G get ready now. Love you. 3!

Tommy: Be safe, baby girl. XO. Love you too.

Tessa wrote back for me to be ready at 11:00. I asked her if they could do a trim and some waxing, too, and she wrote back it was her friend who owned the salon so she was sure it’d be no problem. It was now 10:15, so I zipped downstairs and made a coffee. I spooned my 3 sugars in knowing Sarah wasn’t here to judge and then went upstairs to get a shower. I was excited about getting out of the house.

The phone blooped with another text and it was another number.

It’s Nino. I’m outside and will text you when Tessa gets here so you can meet us at the car.

I saved his contact info and sent him a reply.

Okay, thanks.

* * *

Tessa was excited to get out, too, and told me she hadn’t had a day without her boys in a few weeks. She said she was going to get all gussied up tonight for a dinner date with James. He had to work tonight at our house, but they’d go to dinner and hopefully have a quickie before he had to leave for work.

Sarah was at her house today with the boys. She said she and Sarah were in talks about her sharing the load between her place and Luc’s place since Tommy didn’t want a live-in any longer. She seemed happy about it, as Sarah had been like family to them and was great with the kids.

We pulled up to the salon and Nino followed us in. Tessa had linked arms with me and told me Tommy insisted Nino drive because I was cargo that was too precious to be subjected to her crazy driving. Aw! (He was right. Nino called her Tessa Andretti, teasingly.)

I was glad she didn’t joke about it having anything to do with me taking off. We laughed and then as we stepped inside, Nino grabbed and then was kissing a girl behind the counter. She was tall, brunette, beautiful.

Holy crap, this was my cousin. She and I had the same hair. And I could see my mother in her eyes. It was faint, but it was definitely there.

“Tia, this is Bianca. This is her shop.”

I was dumbfounded.

She gave me a knowing smile. I could tell she knew who I was. She reached out and pulled me into a tight hug.

“Nice to meet you,” I said softly, almost numbly.

“C’mon girls, let’s go have a cappuccino and a natter and then I’ll make you both even more beautiful.”

* * *

Bianca was awesome. She was smart, together, fashionable and it was obvious that she was like a big sister to Tessa. They’d grown up together on the same street. Bianca and Nino had a six-year-old son. She told me she was an only child and had no other cousins on her dad’s side of the family, but lots on her mom’s side. We had no living grandparents on our side, either. But I had her and that was at least someone. I liked her a lot.

We didn’t talk about anything heavy, like her deceased father or my deceased mother, but she told me about our Nonna, who’d died about a year before my mother died. She said she was an old battleax who was super-strict. Bianca said she remembered my mother from when she was small, but that she hadn’t seen her since she was about eight or nine years old and that her name wasn’t mentioned much because of some family fall-out that no one wanted to discuss.

Her salon was cute. It was small, only had three stylist chairs and she was working alone today, only had one part time employee, said she was just getting started but was doing okay. She was skilled, gave my hair a trim, adding some long layers, then did my nails, and we talked about waxing.

“So, I didn’t know we were related when I decided to ask for a Brazilian,” I said, blushing with embarrassment.

She laughed. “I’m a professional, I can handle it. But have you had a Brazilian before?”

I shook my head. “No, I usually just, err, shave. All of, um… it.”

“It’s gonna hurt,” Tessa said with a wince.

“And you shouldn’t have sex till tomorrow if you do,” Bianca added.

Tessa laughed and made a gag motion with her finger in her mouth.

“Oh, I don’t know if I should, then. Tommy’s got a very, uh, voracious, appetite.”

“I can’t hear this.” Tessa raised her hands with her still wet nails and left the back room we had gone into.

Bianca laughed and whispered, “So I hear.”

I blushed. “What have you heard?”

“I know a few girls who’ve been with him. Two. Both just one nighters but yeah, I hear he’s got quite an appetite. And that he’s pretty aggressive about it.” She winked at me. “If he wasn’t like a cousin to me I’d have gone for him years ago.”

I didn’t know what she knew and the idea of him with other girls made me feel queasy and I wasn’t about to spill any beans. “I’d better just call him.”

She laughed. “That’s cute.” Then I heard the jingle of the chimes at her front door and she left me alone in the room.

I hit his contact info on the iPhone.

“Hey, baby,” he answered.

“Hiya. How’s your day?”

“It’s good. Yours? Having fun?”

“Yeah, Bianca is… she’s great. I feel like we’re related, if that doesn’t sound too weird.”

“She’s like a cuz to me so I get it. Bee’s cool,” he answered.

“Okay she’s my cousin and like a cousin to you so that’d make you and me like cousins and that’s just…”

“Wrong,” he said.

We both laughed.

“So, I told you I was gonna get a uh…Brazilian, for you,” I started.

“Mm hm.” He sounded like he was all dreamy-eyed.

“But Bianca says if I do we can’t have sex till tomorrow. I thought I’d better check with you before going ahead.”

“Awesome, baby.”

“No sex is awesome?”

“Checking with me for permission before closing your body down for business is awesome.” He laughed.

I was glad he was in such a good mood.

“I hear it’s quite nice, the effect…” I said softly.

“It absolutely is.”

I deflated. “Gah!”

“What?”

“I don’t want to know how you know that it absolutely is. In fact it makes me very growly that you know that it absolutely is.”

“Oops sorry,” he said softly but I could hear that he was amused and maybe even enjoying my jealousy.

There was silence for a second while I pushed away thoughts of him with someone else. I heard the door chimes again, then he spoke.

“Tell ya what, you wanna do it, that’s fine. You can just take care of me tonight. I can wait till tomorrow to take care of you if I must.”

I laughed. “Oh, if you must, huh? How chivalrous of you.”

“I try.”

“Hmpf.”

Bianca and Tessa came into the room at the same time. They both looked freaked out.

“The police are here for you, Tia,” Tessa said.

“What?”

“Tia!” Tommy boomed. He’d obviously heard them.

“The police are here for me,” I whispered. “I didn’t call them, Tommy. Honestly, I didn’t.”

The girls were looking weirdly at me.

“Go see what they want. Don’t hang up. Give the phone to my sister.”

“Kay.” I passed the phone to Tessa and then walked stiffly out to the salon where two uniformed officers stood at the front desk.

“What’s going on?” I asked my sister.

“Two cops came in and they asked for her.”

“Where’s Nino?”

“Sitting out front, reading a magazine. What could he have done?” Tessa was snarky.

“Fuck. What’s going on now?”

“I’m in the back room, hang on while I go see. They’re leaving with her.”

“Hang up and then give her the phone. Nino’s calling on my other line. I’ll call you back.”

I linked over. “Nino!”

“T, the cops have her. They told her they wanted to ask her questions at the station. She said they should ask her here, but they insisted. She said she programmed my number in her phone and will call me to come get her when she’s done. Tessa just gave her the phone. They asked who I was to her and she told them I’m her cousin’s husband. I’m following the squad car to the station and I’ll wait there for her.”

“I’m meeting you there. Which one?”

I hung up after he told me and got into my car.

Was this another test? It couldn’t be after our talk last night. Couldn’t be. Could it? Let me out of his sight and then arrange for me to sit down with the cops to see what I’d say? I knew that the Ferranos had some cops in their pocket because of what Rose had said to me at the grocery store that day.

When I got into the station, the male and female officer led me to a small, windowless interview room, containing a circular table with chairs around it.

“Is Tommy Ferrano holding you against your will?” the male cop, who’d introduced himself as Officer Francis, asked. He was a tall, older Black man. His partner was a thirty-something pretty blonde named Officer Spence.

“Tommy Ferrano is my fiancé,” I said, looking at them like they were crazy.

“He’s not holding you against your will?”

“What? No!” I exclaimed.

“Is Tommy Ferrano involved in illegal activities, organized crime?”

“Huh?”

“Mobster-like activities. You know: guns, prostitution, drugs, loan sharking? That sort of thing?”

“Tommy’s family owns a construction company, some restaurants,” I answered.

“Your father was arrested the day before yesterday,” the female cop said.

I blanched. “He was?”

“Trafficking crack cocaine, methamphetamines, DMT, MDMA. He tells us he’s selling drugs for the Ferrano family, that he has no choice because they are holding you for ransom. He wants to go into witness protection and wants you safe and he’s willing to testify to facts related to illegal activities by...” She reached into her pocket and pulled out a small spiral notebook, “Thomas Ferrano Sr., Thomas Ferrano Jr., Dario Ferrano, James Michaelson, Edward Nichols, Nino Rossi, and several others.” She flipped the book closed and looked at me expectantly.

I shook my head. “My father has been acting strangely. We suspected he was using drugs. I really don’t think this has anything to do with my fiancé.”

I felt like I was going to hurl the contents of my stomach all over her shiny black shoes. Luckily, I had nothing in my stomach other than two cups of coffee.

The male officer leaned over and put his hand on mine. “It’s okay, you’re safe. You can tell us the truth.”

I pulled my hand back and shook my head. If this was a test, I wasn’t failing it. Maybe this wasn’t a Tommy test. Maybe this was his father testing me. Seemed like just the sort of thing he’d do. If this wasn’t a test, I was not giving them anything. There was no way in the world my father was selling drugs for the Ferrano family. No fricking way.

“I’d like to make a phone call, please.”

“Why do you need to make a phone call?” the female cop asked.

“To call a lawyer,” I said.

“You aren’t under arrest,” the male cop said.

“Then I’d like to leave,” I answered. My phone was ringing from my pocket, it was Tommy calling.

Tia’s phone rang twice and then went to voicemail. Fuck. I was sitting in the coffee shop across the street from the cop shop. I’d sent Nino away so he and Bee could take their son Joey to T-ball. I called Pop’s lawyer and left him a voicemail. I called Pop and he said he’d try to find out what was going down. And I sat. And sat.

I texted her.

I’m in the coffee shop across the street when you’re done. xxx

An hour passed and I texted her again.

I’m going home. Call me when you’re done and I’ll come pick you up.

Two more hours, nothing. No read receipts on my texts, even.

Pop and I talked, and he told me that he had word Greg O’Connor had been arrested. I knew there had to be a connection.

“Did you do this to O’Connor, Pop?” I asked.

He was quiet on the other end of the phone.

“Pop?”

“Maybe,” Pop answered.

“Fuck, Pop.”

I hung up and hit the wall with my fist. Was Tia gone? Had she been presented with a way to escape me and taken it? No. There was no way. I wanted to believe that what she and I had was real. It felt real. It felt completely fucking real. She wouldn’t leave me. Would she?

For hours, they interrogated me, left me waiting in that room, came back and asked the same questions again with different phrasing. And then repeat. All day.

They started to talk about the rap sheets of some of the people in Tommy’s father’s “organization” as they called it. They talked about murders that they couldn’t pin. They’d said that the Ferrano family was suspected of a lot of different illegal activities. They told me they were even linked with slavery trade overseas, with cocaine crops in South America, with mass murder down in Mexico where Earl Johnson, a Ferrano “foot soldier”, was found with a gunshot to the face and three gunshots to his genitals. At the same site, they’d said, a cartel leader had been found decapitated and castrated, his own genitals stuffed in his mouth. I threw up into the waste basket, just some liquid because I hadn’t eaten, and of course that made them even more suspicious about whether or not I knew anything about that situation.

They also carefully watched for reactions as they talked about how that cartel’s compound had been found with eight murdered men in addition to Earl and Juan Carlos Castillo. Four women had been set free and had ID’d someone matching the description of Tommy Ferrano as having been there with guns, urging them to leave.

They said a woman matching my description was reported as being there as well. I shrugged it off, saying I hadn’t ever been to Mexico, and didn’t know what they were talking about. There had been no record of Tommy landing there or of him leaving the country but there were eyewitness accounts initially. I was told that those had since been retracted.

I continued to tell them that I knew nothing about what they were talking about. They asked me personal questions about Tommy. They asked when his birthday was. I didn’t know the answer to that; we hadn’t gotten there yet but I said March 1st. They told me his birthday was April 5th (I was close. He’d told me that he turned 29 a few months ago when his father bought him the house) and then asked me if I’d think it was strange that two people were engaged but that one didn’t know the other’s date of birth. I shrugged and said he hated birthdays so maybe he lied when he told me his birthday.

They countered by saying perhaps I was afraid to reveal that I was really a prisoner, not his live-in girlfriend. I clammed up and told them that they needed to either arrest me or let me leave. That was when the door opened and Susie, my social worker, came in. Shit. And then it went on and on, with Susie trying to get me to talk.

She put her hand on mine, asking them to leave us alone for a minute. I hadn’t seen her since my graduation day. She was such a sweet lady, had always been nice to me. I knew we weren’t really alone. It was obvious that they were watching us through the mirrored glass.

“Tia, they’ve told me that you’re saying that you’re with Tommy Ferrano of your own free will.”

“Yes,” I answered.

“That’s not what I heard, honey. Are you scared? You don’t have to be. The police want to help. They can help you. I can help you.”

“I don’t need their help, Susie. I’m fine. I told Rose and Cal I’m fine. I’m telling you, I’m fine.”

“I’ve known you for over half your life, Tia. Meeting some guy who’s known for being connected, for being the son of a crime Don? Moving in with him and cutting off contact with everyone other than a few quick conversations that are obviously designed to make people believe you’re okay? Come on. This isn’t you. What’s really going on here?”

I shook my head. “Susie, I’m fine. I love him. He’s not mafia, that’s ridiculous. His father may be, I have no idea. But, he’s not. I know nothing. Can I go?” I got to my feet.

“Tia, I’m here to help you. The police are here to help. Let us help you.”

I dug my heels in and she finally relented, giving me her home phone number and her cell number so that if I needed her, I could reach her.

An hour later they finally told me I could leave. My cell phone was dead, so I couldn’t call Tommy as I had no idea what his number was. I called a taxi. I didn’t know what the address of Tommy’s house was. I knew where it was, by intersection, so I guided the cab driver until we pulled up in front of the gate. I paid the driver with my debit card and stepped out in front of the gate and pushed the buzzer. Dex was already opening it to let me in.

“You okay?” he asked. “Need me to pay the cab?”

I blew out a long breath. “I paid already and yeah, I’m okay, thanks, Dex.”

“Next time, the cab gets inside the gate before you get out, okay, Tia?”

“Okay, Dex.” I hoped there wouldn’t be a next time.

I walked up to the house and he opened the front door with a key. The house was dark. I looked in Tommy’s office and he wasn’t there. I went up to the bedroom. He wasn’t there, either. I went downstairs and found him beating up the punching bag.

I hesitated in the doorway. “Uh, hi.”

He didn’t hear me. Or he was ignoring me. I stepped around so he could see me if he simply hadn’t heard me. He stopped and caught his breath and pulled the gloves off.

“Baby!”

“Hi,” I approached him cautiously and he grabbed me and pulled me tight to him. He was drenched in sweat. I didn’t care. I put my arms around him, relieved he was putting his arms around me, not angry with me.

“You okay? How’d you get here?” he asked, caressing my face.

I nodded. “I’m okay. Cab.”

“Let’s go upstairs and you can fill me in. I’ll grab a fast shower. Join me?” He grabbed a bottle of water from the floor and took a glug. “I was going out of my mind not hearing from you so I was just killing time.” He motioned with his chin toward the punching bag. I was surprised he looked so calm.

I followed him to the bathroom and got out of my clothes. He looked down at me. “So, too bad about that Brazilian.”

I looked down at my naked lower half and started to laugh. We both laughed hard and he pulled me into the shower and against his body. He got my face into his hands and kissed me deeply, passionately. My arms wrapped around him, then I pushed him against the tiled wall and then I was devouring him. He reached behind us and turned the shower on, not breaking lip contact, and at first the water was freezing. He adjusted the temperature.

“At least we don’t have to wait till tomorrow,” he muttered, my earlobe in his mouth.

“Yeah, and now I know when your birthday is,” I answered, and he released my lobe and looked at me with a tilted head. “And I don’t think I could’ve waited. I need you,” I added, and put my hands on his rear and ground my hips against him, up on my tippy toes trying to get better contact. He bent his knees while he lifted me onto his shaft, sliding right in. He turned us and got my back against the wall, and whoa… it was just what I needed.

* * *

We were in bed, lying face to face on our sides naked, one of my hands was flat against his chest, the other tracing the lines of the ink on the other shoulder, trailing down his arm, as I told him all about my day.

He listened, while sifting his hands through my hair and up and down my back, his lips against my forehead the whole time. I could feel his expression changes, smiles, lips tightening, soft kisses, or tightening of his whole body alternately while I told him all about meeting my cousin and how it felt really nice to have family, when I told him how much I liked his sister, when I told him the things the cops said, though he didn’t deny or confirm some of the bad stuff.

At the end I said, “At first I thought it was a test.”

He loosened his grip on me and I saw his smile instead of felt it. “That would’ve been the ultimate test.”

“Mm hm,” I answered with disapproval. “Don’t get any ideas.”

“I’m done testing you, baby. And I never would’ve done that sort of test.”

“My dad, Tommy; that’s fucked.” I couldn’t believe how calm he’d been about all of this, how trusting he’d been of me. It was such a relief.

“Yeah, you know what else is fucked?”

“What?”

He was thoughtful for a beat, then said, “Forget about it; you don’t wanna know.” He got up and got into a clean pair of boxers and then poured two glasses of wine.

“What? Tell me, please. Wait I don’t think I should have a drink yet. I haven’t had a single thing to eat today.”

“I’ll order pizza.” He reached for his phone. “Greg O’Connor just signed his own death warrant.”

“No.”

He raised his index finger to me as he started to talk on the phone and placed the order for an extra-large double cheese, pepperoni, bacon, and mushroom pizza with someone he obviously knew. When he ended the call, he resumed the conversation. “People’ll want him dead.”

My expression dropped. He paused a conversation talking about my father getting dead so he could order a pizza? How messed up was his life to even make that sort of thing seem so casual?

“Sorry, Tia, but this is it. When certain people get wind of this, that’s it.” Tommy motioned by drawing a horizontal line across his neck with his index finger.

“Shit.” I put my hand over my mouth.

“’Fraid so.”

“Fuck!”

I took the wine glass and I downed half of it. “I can’t let that happen.”

Tommy looked at me like he felt sorry for me. “Easy with the wine. The pizza’ll be here in half an hour.”

“He’s my dad.” I passed the glass back.

“Your father knows the price of what he’s done. It’ll happen.”

“But Witness Protection…”

“He has nothing. They’re not gonna protect him when he has nothing to give them but rumors, babe. He’s goin’ to jail for the drug charges and then someone inside’ll get him. He was hoping you’d rat, that’s why he sicced the cops on you.”

I hugged my myself, feeling a chill, and shook my head.

“He knows the price of his actions, Tia.” Tommy shrugged.

“Don’t be so cold.”

“So cold?” Tommy started to look pissed. “He just tried to fucking take you from me!” came out with a roar.

I flopped down and stared at the ceiling. Tommy downed his wine and then got his cell and dialed a number.

“Pop,” he said as he left the room.

I stared at the ceiling for a long time. After a little while I got up and washed my face and then plugged in the cell phone. As I did that, the house phone rang from my nightstand.

I let it ring three times in case Tommy was going to get it, but when the fourth ring started, I picked it up. “Hello?”

“Tia, Sweetpea?”

My dad.

“Dad?” How did he get this number?”

“You have to help me,” he whispered. “You have to tell the cops what you know about the Ferranos, about what they’ve done.”

“I know nothing, Dad. Nothing. What the hell did you do this for?”

“I needed to save you.”

He sounded like he was crying.

“You needed to save me? Save me? You needed to try to fucking save yourself, Dad. Like always!”

Tommy was coming into the room. His eyes burned with rage as he snatched the phone out of my hand.

“Fuck off, Greg. You’re done fucking with her life, you hear me?” He hung up and pulled me to him.

I was bawling.

He wrapped his arms around me. “Baby, he’s fucked.”

“I know,” I said.

“You don’t. Sit.”

I sat.

“I just got some info. He owed a lot of money to another crew, not one of ours. When he came here, he was hoping to work for me for Ferrano protection against that other crew. Figured if he got in good with us, he’d get off the hook with them. This witness protection bullshit has gotta be his last kick at the can to save his own ass. Pop won’t have to give any orders; Greg’ll be gone fast if he’s in gen-pop because of the shit he’s pulled with people that have zero to do with our family. He was determined to get into this life and he got in with someone else. In over his head.”

The iPhone started to ring and it was an unknown number. Tommy picked it up, listened for a second after saying Hello, then said, “Fuck off, O’Connor.” And ended the call.

“How did he get the stupid iPhone number?”

“That’s what I’d like to fuckin’ know. No one outside of my family has that number. Stupid iPhone?”

“I hate that phone.”

“Pick a new one. I’ll get it for you.”

I gave him a half a smile. Something seemingly insignificant amid a day that was total chaos, but it was sweet.

We polished off most of that extra-large pizza; I was totally starved, ate four pieces, poured another big glass of wine, but then I crashed.

* * *

I woke up alone. It was still night. The lamp was still on, the two wineglasses beside me (Tommy’s empty one and my full one). It was warm, but I drank a few sips of it anyway. I got up and saw his black t-shirt on the floor beside the pizza box. I threw it over my tank top and inhaled it deeply. I was wearing a pair of boy short underwear but the t-shirt covered my booty. I lifted the box to take it to the kitchen and went in search of my fiancé.

I found him sitting in the backyard by the pool in just his boxers, his feet in the water, smoking a joint. I frowned. I’d never seen him do that before.

“Hey.” He looked up at me and looked around, “Fuck, where are your pants? There are guys around.” He picked up his phone from the pavement beside him and dialed, then demanded, “Steer clear of the pool area till I tell you; tell the guys!” He practically barked those orders.

“Sorry.” I spun to head back in the house.

“Don’t go; sit.”

I sat beside him and put my feet into the water. It was warm; felt nice. He passed me the joint. I took a puff and then a second puff, then gave it back.

“I don’t smoke much. Just once in a while at night when I can’t seem to chill,” he explained and took another haul off it and then put it out in an ashtray beside him.

If pot chilled him out, maybe he should smoke it more often. I decided not to share that info at this particular moment. I put my head against his arm. He put his arm around me so I nuzzled into him, looking up at the sky. It was a nice night. Too bad so much was fucked up for both of us right now.

“Why aren’t you asleep? It’s late. Trouble shutting your mind off, too?” he asked, kissing the top of my head.

“I guess,” I said. “I think I’d sleep better beside you.”

He leaned down and kissed me. I held tight to him.

“Let’s go put you to bed,” he said softly and got to his feet. He touched his phone screen and then put his phone to his ear as we walked hand in hand back inside. “You’re good. Off to bed. Yep.” He ended the call.

The pot definitely made me sleepy. My body felt all loose and gooey. I fell asleep running my fingers through his hair.