Chapter 15
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Promise
We don’t go back to Angel’s loft, instead we go to the club.
As if I needed another reminder that this wedding is a complete sham. I’m dumped in the shit apartment at the top of the building.
I have no idea what to do with myself, facing a day of nothing. I’m still in my Nantucket sundress.
I finally take it off and start doing some exercises just to work off some of the energy. This day has been so much, and I just need to do something physical.
But I’m only fifteen minutes in when a knock sounds at the door.
I jump into the bedroom, scrambling to get the dress on over the sheen of sweat that’s broken out over my skin.
“It’s Candy. I’m coming in.” I stop struggling, wilting onto the bed. She’s seen my naked bits, I don’t need to dress for her.
She slowly opens the door to the bedroom and then stops to stare. I’ve flopped back on the bed, sweaty, my dress half on.
“Bad time?”
Sighing, I shake my head. She hands me a pad of paper and a pencil.
Trying to keep busy.
“Angel sent me up to see if you needed any beauty treatments before tomorrow.”
I guess I am actually going to do a few bride-type things. I nod.
Highlights?
“Agreed,” she says as she studies my hair. “And some low lights too.”
She hands me another plain tube top dress. I push off the sundress and pull up the tube top. I’ve already got a strapless bra on, so I just pull the dress over it, not bothering to take the bra off.
“Damn. You even make those little cotton things look good.”
I roll my eyes, then I write.
Yeah. I bet you wish you were me. Shoved in this apartment all day and marrying a guy who doesn’t even like me.
Candy shrugs. “I don’t know. My ex is such a piece of work, I’m hiding out here and working for peanuts in a whorehouse just to stay out of sight.”
Ah, crap.
Sorry, Candy. Didn’t mean to do that thing where I think I’ve got the worst story.
She sits me in a chair and pats my shoulder. “I totally get it. But around here, everyone’s got a shit story. And by the way, I don’t tell anyone mine, so can we keep what I said in a cone of silence?”
I raise my brows, before I point at my mouth and make the lock-and-throw-away-the-key motion.
She laughs. “Right. I bet everyone tells you their secrets.”
I shake my head, bringing up the pad.
I don’t know about that, but they do forget I’m there and then say the most personal things.
She starts foiling my hair, and I can tell just by the feel that she’s doing perfect sections that will be small enough to look natural. As she works, she talks, telling me about her ex, how she’s been at Angel’s club for the last three years and about how she’s fallen in love again.
That’s amazing!
She winces. “I’m not so sure. Vinnie’s so sweet with me, but he’s part of this life.” She drops her voice to a whisper close to my ear. “He’s the son of the biggest crime boss in the city, Vincent Morelli.”
I’ve heard of him. I think I’ve even met him. That’s the thing about politics, it brushes the shoulders of anyone with money.
I frown, my nose wrinkling. Some women just have terrible taste in men. If my attraction to Angel is any indication, I’m one of them. I have no idea if Candy is or isn’t, but I hope it works out for her, Candy is good people.
I reach for her hand, giving it a squeeze. She squeezes back as our eyes lock in the mirror. “Promise, do you think you’ll ever talk again?”
My mouth opens and closes, my jaw working. I haven’t thought about it. Holding in the words gives me control. Not just with my father or Angel.
It keeps the feelings bottled up too, that if let open, I’m not sure what would happen. I pick up the pad, the pen perched over the paper as I consider…
Maybe when I’m actually safe. But I don’t expect to live long enough for that to happen.
“Shit,” she whispers, before she checks one of the foils. “Time to rinse.”
I jerk my chin even as she squeezes my shoulder, not letting me up. “If you could do one thing before you die, what would it be?”
I know the answer, I’ve known it for the last year. It’s the reason I drag myself out of bed every day. But it’s not the kind of thing you write on a piece of paper.
A knock sounds on the door.
“It’s Gunner.”
“Come in,” Candy calls even as she leads me to the kitchen. I have to stand, tipping my head forward into the sink as she starts to pull the foils.
“Angel wants to see Promise as soon as you’re done.”
“Got it,” Candy answers. “It’ll be about twenty minutes to wash and blow out.”
We’re all business after that, Candy working quickly to shampoo my hair and then blow it out, styling it in soft waves.
Which dress?
She reads my message, one corner of her mouth turning down. “Honestly, keep this one on. There is something about you in a little white dress that is both adorable and hot as hell,” she answers with a sigh. “I’d kill to look like you.”
My eyes go wide in the mirror. She’s beautiful and bold. I point at her, mouthing, Right back at you.
I follow Candy to the door to find Gunner standing out in the hall. Did he wait this whole time? When he sees us, he starts down the stairs, Candy following, with me in the back.
The club is open and a few of the rooms are in use, the moans of the whores and the grunts of the men filling the hall.
One woman leads an older man up the stairs, his suit a clear indicator that he’s a businessman, his wedding ring still shining on his finger.
They pass Gunner and then Candy, but when his eyes land on me, he leers, coming to a stop. “I changed my mind, I want her.”
I give him a hard stare and go to pass by him, but he shoots out a hand, grabbing my arm.
I barely gasp when Gunner spins and moves up the four steps that separate us in a single stride.
“You’re out of here,” he growls as he grabs the man by the collar and yanks, half dragging the man down the stairs.
“Dammit, Gunner, I needed that job,” the whore yells after them, even as the man spits and twists, trying to get out of Gunner’s grasp.
But Gunner pays him no mind as he pulls him out of the stairwell, disappearing into the hall.
“Come on,” Candy says softly, and then we start down the stairs again.
She leads me not toward Angel’s office, but a larger room, where I hear the voices of several men and women, the noise almost sounding like a party.
Candy steps in, me right behind, but she stops so suddenly, I run into her back. I grab her to catch myself before I realize why she stopped like that.
The room is full of men and women, dancing and laughing. The other brothers are there, as well as several men I don’t know, while at least ten dancers slither around the room.
And in the center…
Angel. On his lap…one of the dancers, boobs out, tiny skirt barely covering her G-string as she grinds into his junk.
I didn’t think it was possible to feel any worse today, but my stomach swoops as bile rises in my throat. It turns out there is still a ways to go before I crash into rock bottom.