5. Long Distance Phone Calls
CHAPTER 5
Long Distance Phone Calls
DON’T START A GAME IF YOU’RE NOT READY TO PLAY…
D ante had walked out the door and I laid back on the couch, staring at the ceiling. I covered my face with my hand. I felt conflicted. I wasn’t supposed to be feeling this way with Dante and yet I was. Dante was every mother's nightmare. Actually he was worse. He was the thing that gave nightmares.
My phone rang and I jumped. My heart dropped for a second. Flipping over my phone my stomach twisted in knots. It was my av? . I had questions and this man could answer them.
"Bom dia!" I said brightly.
"Lucia," he warned. Fuck.
" Av? ," I responded in the same tone. He sighed.
"You know I know," he said. I grimaced. I wasn’t going to question what he meant. Growing up it was difficult to keep secrets when everyone knew everyone. And yet he managed to keep a big one.
He made it sound as if I was in trouble when he was the one in the hot seat. I took a deep breath because two could play at this game.
"I also know about you know what," I said, leaning back against the couch. He was not going to make me feel guilty about something I was purposely kept away from. He grumbled, clearly in the wrong.
"It's not something I wanted to keep from you," he said. Tears pricked my eyes. But he did. He kept a lot from me. Everything I knew about my family was basically a lie and yet I still felt like I was missing pieces of a puzzle. " Eu sinto muito . I should have told you. There's still so much for you to know,” he said.
“Then tell me what I need to know right now,” I pleaded. He hesitated.
“We work for the mafias,” he said. I dug my hand into the couch and gritted my teeth. The last thing I wanted was for my voice to reveal any kind of weakness.
“You mean all of them? They come to the shop?” I asked.
“For the past 15 years or so,” he said. My brain raced. This has been going on for years, right under my nose.
“Why?” I asked. He cleared his throat. I didn’t give a shit if this made him uncomfortable. I needed to know the truth.
“There was an agreement years ago,” he said, firmly.
“What kind of agreement? Why?” I pushed. He sighed heavily.
" Minha vida I have to go. But I promise to tell you everything when I can,” he said. Convenient that he had to leave. I swallowed. At least he admitted to working for the mafia.
“Is there anything important I should know until then?” I asked quickly. I needed him to give something, any morsel of truth so I didn’t feel like I was walking on eggshells. Nerves erupted all over my skin.
"Just be careful and Dante…," he trailed off. My cheeks flamed at the mention of his name. From Dante’s point of view he had a nice relationship with my av?.
" Sim ?" I said, feeling my body tighten up. I could hardly breathe as I waited for him to speak.
"Trust him," he said before hanging up.
The bread was cooling on the kitchen counter and the movie ended a while ago. I rested my head against the couch cushion. Trust him? My lying av? was telling me to trust a man whose career involved lurking in the shadows.
How could I? A part of me wanted to run away from Dante and yet there was something pulling me towards him. With every stitch of his suit I was becoming more attracted to him. His long fit body, the tattoos that he kept hidden. He was weaving his way into my heart.
I must be crazy.
He's a dangerous man who does dangerous things and my family worked for him. I chewed my bottom lip. Maybe I just needed to scratch an itch. Clearly he didn’t mind. And maybe I could get answers from Dante. An idea arose as a strong knock vibrated through my apartment.
I froze for a second before making my way towards the door. I reached for the baseball bat that laid in the corner. My hands tightened around the wood. I frowned at the weight. A metal bat might be more useful considering everything happening.
Looking into the peephole the devil stood on the opposite side. I relinquished the bat. Taking a deep breath I opened the door to find him leaning against the opposite wall, dinner in hand. The smell smacked me in the face and made my mouth water. The food wasn't the only thing making me drool though.
Dante stood in a black t-shirt and gray sweatpants. I bit the inside of my cheek at the way his gray sweatpants wrapped around his muscular thighs. I forced my eyes to his face and not the bulge his sweatpants teased. His left cheek was slightly bruised and my stomach dropped. The bruise was a reminder of what he was. He left to do gods know what to someone.
My fingers, on their own accord, brushed the sensitive skin. Dante didn’t flinch and for some reason that hurt more.
“Are you okay?” I asked. His lips twitched and he leaned against my doorway.
“Careful Cinderella, you almost sound like you care,” he murmured. I pulled my hand away and rolled my eyes.
“Despite what you think I do have a heart,” I said.
“And despite what you think I do as well,” he said. My heart fluttered. He did, didn’t he? He walked me to my car, brought me food and cleaned my apartment. Despite it all there was a heart beneath his hard exterior.
"I still have to try the bread right?" he said, breaking my thoughts. He held up the bag.
"I suppose," I said with a shrug. I turned my back and left the door open for him to follow. A tiny part of me was happy he had come back. I was craving his presence but now I could begin my plan.
I walked towards the kitchen, knowing he would follow me. I sat on top of my counter and he placed the food next to me before forcing his way between my legs. I raised an eyebrow.
"Is it Italian?" I asked, gesturing towards the bag. His eyes traveled up my body slowly. My body reacted under his watchful eye. His hands skimmed up my thighs and goosebumps erupted all over my body. He was making me lose focus again.
"I wanted to eat Portuguese tonight," he said. I stared at him in shock and then burst out laughing. His eyes widened. "That's not the reaction I was expecting," he grumbled. I smiled at him.
"That’s the line the big mafia man decides to go with?" I teased. He glared at me.
“You’re lucky I find you interesting,” he said. I gingerly ran my fingers up his arm, my eyes following the trail before meeting his gaze. He watched me, slightly guarded.
“And why is that,” I said, my voice sounding slightly breathy. He stepped in closer, his hips aligning with mine. I fought back a moan at the feel of his hard body.
“I should bend you over and punish you for all the disrespect and back talk,” he said as his lips brushed the shell of my ear. My heart banged against my chest.
“Sounds more like a reward than a punishment,” I said as my arms snaked around his neck. I just needed him to lower his guard slightly so I could get information out of him. His lips grazed my throat and my eyes fluttered closed. I let out a soft gasp when I felt his teeth. His hands dug into my hips.
Dante is flushed against my body. Every instinct inside of me is roaring to rock for relief. My core is throbbing, begging for attention .
“You’re playing a dangerous game,” he warned, pulling away. I stared into his gray eyes and a startling resolution struck me. I was playing a game. But I intended to win. I was going to figure out all the details between my family and the mafias and I was going to tear it apart. And Dante was going to help me.
His hand slipped into my hair and lightly tugged. My body shivered against my will. My eyes fluttered close and his lips traced the shell of my ear again.
“Looks like you like that," he said, voice deep and tempting. His teeth nibbled my earlobe and it took every ounce of control to not wrap my legs around his waist and bring him closer.
"You have no idea what I like and while I'd enjoy having you discover what they are, I'm really hungry,” I said, hopping off the counter and standing behind him. I pushed him to unpack the food and he grunted. He handed me a container.
"Gumbo," he stated. The perfect pairing for my bread. He glanced over his shoulder.
"That's perfect," I said, food replacing my thoughts on mafia men.
Sitting across from him I glanced at his bruised cheek. Horrible scenarios began racing through my head. Imagine, being with someone in his line of work. This is how it would be. Sharing meals with someone who was constantly covered in blood and bruises. Could I even stomach that? He placed his spoon down.
"Ask," he said with annoyance. I sighed.
"Why do you do it?" I asked.
He responded nonchalantly, "someone has too."
I glared at him and stood up. People have to die? For what? Money? Drugs? Anger coursed through my veins. Did it mean he didn't care about who he hurt, killed or worse? Did he not care about the lives his job affected?
"We can't keep doing this," I spat out. Within a few days I had deluded myself in falling for this man. I got swept up by his shadows. I was enticed by the fire behind his gray eyes.
I didn't look at him. I knew if I did I would cave. We shouldn't be spending time together. He was a client. He was the mafia. And yet my av? trusted him and wanted me to trust him.
Dante got up, following me into the kitchen. "Doing what?" he asked. I began doing the dishes, needing a task to keep myself busy.
"Don't pretend to not know what I'm talking about. This thing between us can't happen. I won't put myself or the people I care about in danger because of you or your family," I said.
Even though my av? told me to trust him, books and life taught me one thing and that is people could easily go back on their word. I needed to break the agreement my family had with the mafias.
I was surprised by the anger that was coursing through my veins. My control was snapping. Between my growing feelings for Dante’s, Luca’s enchanting blue eyes and the mafias everything felt like it was catching up to me.
I felt his chest against my back. His hands slipped over mine to grab the sponge. His fingers tangled with mine as we washed the dishes in tangent.
"And what's between us?" he asked, his lips tickling my ear. He rested his chin on my shoulder. I rinsed the dishes and placed them on the rack. Dante slid his wet hands up my arm, inciting goosebumps.
"What. Are. We?" he asked, turning me around. His eyes were serious and that wall around my heart was rumbling.
"You know what I'm referring to," I said. He pressed his hips into mine and I bit the inside of my cheek. It was terrifying how easily he made my body come alive.
"Not the answer I'm looking for," he said in a low voice. I bit back a moan. He tilted my chin. I could use this to my advantage. Dante Costa was interested in me and instead of running away from it I was going to use it. He tapped my forehead.
"Are you still there?" he asked.
"I'm not starting anything," I said, looking away. Dante represented freedom, impulse, desire and most importantly answers. His hand slid back into my hair and he yanked harder this time. My eyes fluttered closed.
"You start and I'll make sure you finish," he whispered against my throat. With his face buried in my neck I stared at the ceiling with a smirk. Let the games begin.