Chapter 31
thirty-one
. . .
Sunday morning sunshine seeped through my shut eyelids forcing them open.
With a soft sigh, I sat up and stared out the window between thick curtains I never bothered to close at night.
Unlike the city with its bustling people and noisy traffic, the countryside was quiet and the sun not intrusive, so I never woke up feeling groggy or like I hadn’t gotten enough sleep.
When Dr Carlo brought me to Italy, I had no idea his little family-owned villa was one of the perks.
There was no rental and the only cost to my pocket was to maintain the upkeep of the place which I readily accepted.
Although it was located on the outskirts of the city, buses where plenty, reliable, and punctual and why I hadn’t bothered with acquiring a car.
Stretching, I dragged my hands through my hair and pushed aside the covers.
The sudden chime of the doorbell had my feet pausing midstride to the bathroom.
I made a face checking the time. By normal countryside standards, eight thirty was considered late since most people got up early.
Either for church, big traditional breakfasts, tending their gardens or farming.
Being a resident doctor, however, sleeping in was a scarce privilege.
Only, I wasn’t getting any.
Seven days had passed since that blowjob followed by that godawful tattoo I couldn’t get rid of, not without embarrassing myself. Seven days I’d stayed hidden, reduced to a rat fearing a big monstrous cat.
To add insult to injury, my sleep was constantly disturbed by dreams or should I say nightmares, featuring my mafia monster either killing me or fucking me. Worse, were the ones that got me all hot and bothered enough to seek reprieve under a cold shower.
His aura was that good.
If that wasn’t enough to unsettle me, I constantly peeked out my window expecting to find him parked outside, watching me. I ignored his first threat and see where that left me, no way was I ignoring another. Thankfully, he hadn’t made an appearance.
“I hate you,” I vented my dislike for the mafia monster
Like some potent omen, the doorbell chimed once more followed by Trixie’s shout, “we know you’re in there, Ish, so open up.”
God, she was loud. Clearly, they hadn’t bought my bullshit swine flu story that I swore was worsening every time they called or wanted to visit.
Grabbing a robe, I shoved my hands through the sleeves, secured the belt around my waist and while pulling my hair up into a messy bun, I ran downstairs.
“We brought wine,” Trixie waved the two bottles in my face the second I opened the door before disappearing toward the kitchen.
“Seven fucking days, girl,” Brandi scolded, her expression pure disbelief.
“Sorry?” I lifted my shoulders to my ears, offering a placid smile.
She rolled her eyes and stomped off.
“You okay?” Stasia set a basket down, kissed both my cheeks then hugged me tightly.
Her motherly care made me tear up. “I am.” I swallowed down a sob before closing the door and following her to the kitchen.
There, I watched while Stasia retrieved wine glasses and a cheeseboard, Brandi unpacked a variety of cheese and crackers, and Trixie began washing the fruit they brought.
My stomach gave a soft rumble, reminding me I’d skipped dinner last night. “I’m going to take a quick shower,” I called over my shoulder, leaving them to mess my kitchen.
When I returned, they’d laid our spread out in the back garden which had beautiful views of the neighboring wine farm.
“Oh, my freaking God, he made you blow him?” Trixie clasped her hands to her mouth, her eyes wide after I told them the real reason for my absence.
“How? When? Did you enjoy it. I mean it must’ve been good, right?
” she babbled barely a second later, earning a slap to her arm from Stasia. “What?” she pouted, rubbing the spot.
“A little sensitivity?” Stasia scolded.
Miffed, Trixie downed her wine like it was orange juice and held her glass out for a refill
“Why didn’t you scream?” Brandi asked, filling Trixie’s glass.
“And what good would that have done?” Stasia retorted. “You heard her, the man had a knife to her throat.”
“I can’t believe he cut you.” Trixie sipped her drink this time. “Can we see it?”
My hand drifted to my throat, and I winced. Although the cuts had healed a bit, they were still tender to the touch. After my shower every day. I treated it with some balm and today, I concealed it with a light turtleneck as opposed to walking around with a bandaged neck.
With a soft sigh, I rolled down the top. All three ladies leaned closer to inspect the cut.
“Yikes,” Trixie touched it and I jerked on reflex. “Oh shit.” She lifted apologetic eyes to me. “I’m sorry.”
Smiling, I rolled up the neckpiece. “It’s not painful, just the reminder makes me tense,” I mumbled, not ready to tell them about the tattoo because that would lead to further embarrassment I couldn’t handle right now.
“So, was his dick huge?” Trixie blurted the question I had a feeling she’d been dying to ask. “Ouch,” she grumbled when another hit, this time from a scowling Brandi, left a red print on her arm.
Sometimes it felt like I had a mother and two whiny sisters with these three. Spoiled rotten since losing her only brother twelve years ago, Trixie wanted to purse a dance career, but her brother’s death made her seek out nursing instead—a good choice since patients loved her sunny disposition.
Laughing, I rescued her. “Yes, Trix, he was huge with Jacob’s ladder piercings.” Three pairs of wide eyes accompanied by three gaping mouths turned on me. “Not like I couldn’t notice. He practically choked me.” I shrugged, meeting their gazes.
“Um…” Trixie opened and closed her mouth several times. It was the first time I’d seen the usual chatterbox lost for words.
Brandi let out a low whistle. “Did it hurt?” she asked, her expression wary as though afraid she’d just sinned. We all knew that was a joke since some of Brandi’s exploratory talks were rather dirty.
Unsolicited, an image of Remo’s face plastered with pleasure as he shoved his dick inside my mouth, sprang to mind that had me stupidly wondering what his cock would feel like, sliding into my pussy.
Would those piercings hurt or bring me more pleasure?
Would that barbell on the head tickle my cervix the deeper he drove or cause pain?
An abrupt rush of heat sparked between my legs causing my pussy muscles to clench.
“Yes.” Annoyed with my thoughts, I wriggled my ass to get comfortable.
“You know what you need?” Stasia grasped my hand, drawing my gaze. “A date.”
“A date?” I laughed.
“Yes,” Trixie rolled onto her knees, excitement adding a deeper tinge of pink to her already rosy cheeks.
“And I have the perfect man for the job,” Brandi chipped in.
“The job?” I leveled each one with a scowl. “Didn’t know I needed work.”
“Shush now,” Stasia scolded, her motherly tone coming into play. “What I meant is that you need a little distraction, a night out with someone you don’t know. Someone who can hold his own around your feisty personality but keep you entertained with worldly news.”
My brow shot up. “Feisty personality?”
She smiled. “While you’re a strong woman, Ish, Remo is infamous for being an asshole of note.
What he did to you is inexcusable, but an apology will never be forthcoming.
Sitting around aimlessly or hiding yourself is just telling him he controls you.
We all know that you’re no quitter nor do you let anyone get the better of you.
That’s what makes you shine as a woman and a budding doctor.
Remo Rossi will get what’s coming to him and while we wait, I want you to show him that you’re not afraid of him, that you can choose whomever you want to be with. ”
“Thank you, Stasia and you’re right. Remo will get his due, in time.” Although I said the words out loud, my heart, boomed in my chest, warning me that holding hope for that to happen was only keeping him present in my mind.
Then there was the tattoo of his name across the most intimate space on my body. How would I explain that to the next man I dated?
Cross that bridge later, Ish. I soothed my nerves.
“Cheers to that.” Trixie and Brandi said in unison, clinking their glasses with mine.
“This date?” I prompted Stasia, ready for a distraction.
“Do you remember me telling you about my friend, Sean?”
“The channel seven news reporter.” I scratched my temple trying to remember if I had the right guy.
She chuckled. “He’s an investigative journalist and yes, for channel seven. Anyway, he flew in from Australia yesterday morning and he’ll be here for a few months, combining work with a little vacation time.”
“Wait. Is he that hot surfer dude that dropped you off at the hospital yesterday morning?” Trixie sat up straighter, her eyes bright with excitement. I’d swear that woman was born with a bee in her bonnet.
Stasia nodded. “What do you think, Ish? A date with my gorgeous nephew might distract you a bit.”
“Sure.” I didn’t second guess my decision because any procrastination would lead to thoughts of a man I wanted to kill and fuck in the same breath.
A chorused, “yay,” from all three followed my response.
“Great, I’ll text you the details.” Stasia buzzed with excitement I couldn’t.
That evening, my spirits were high again while we shared a delicious pasta and meatballs. But as the night wore on, the silence in my head grew louder. I didn’t just hope I never saw Remo again, I feared the moment I did.