Copyright?2019byL.J.Shen
Allrightsreserved.Nopartofthispublicationmaybereproduced,distributed,ortransmittedinanyformorbyanymeans,includingphotocopying,recording,orotherelectronicormechanicalmethods,withoutthepriorwrittenconsentofthepublisher,exceptinthecaseofbriefquotationembodiedincriticalreviewsandcertainothernoncommercialusespermittedbycopyrightlaw.
Resemblancetoactualpersons,things,livingordead,localesoreventsisentirelycoincidental.
TheKissThief
CoverDesigner:LetitiaHasser,RBADesigns
InteriorFormatting:StaceyRyanBlake,Champagne
BookDesignTableofContents
TitlePage
Copyright
Epigraph
Dedication
Soundtrack
Synopsis
Prologue
ChapterOne
ChapterTwo
ChapterThree
ChapterFour
ChapterFive
ChapterSix
ChapterSeven
ChapterEight
ChapterNine
ChapterTen
ChapterEleven
ChapterTwelve
ChapterThirteen
ChapterFourteen
ChapterFifteen
ChapterSixteen
ChapterSeventeen
ChapterEighteen
ChapterNineteen
Epilogue
PreviewofVicious
Acknowledgements
AlsobyL.J.Shen“Itisamazinghowcompleteisthedelusionthatbeautyisgoodness.”
—LeoTolstoy,TheKreutzerSonataToBrittanyDanielleChristinaandJacquieCzechMartin,andtostrongwomeneverywhere.
Maywebethem,mayweraisethem,maywesupportthem.“YoungandBeautiful”—LanaDelRey
“TakeMetoChurch”—Hozier
“YoungGod”—Halsey
“Can’tTrussit”—PublicEnemy
“BacktoBlack”—AmyWinehouse
“NothingCompares2U”—SineadO’Connor
“EverybodyWantstoRuletheWorld”—TearsforFears
“I’mShippingUptoBoston”—DropkickMurphysTheysayyourfirstkissshouldbeearned.
MinewasstolenbyadevilinamasquerademaskundertheblackChicagosky.
Theysaythevowsyoutakeonyourweddingdayaresacred.
Minewerebrokenbeforeweleftchurch.
Theysayyourheartonlybeatsforoneman.
Minesplitandbledfortworivalswhofoughtforituntilthebitterend.
IwaspromisedtoAngeloBandini,theheirtooneofthemostpowerfulfamiliesintheChicagoOutfit.
ThentakenbySenatorWolfeKeaton,whoheldmyfather’ssinsoverhisheadtoforcemeintomarriage.
Theysaythatallgreatlovestorieshaveahappyending.
I,FrancescaRossi,foundmyselferasingandrewritingmineuntiltheverylastchapter.
Onekiss.
Twomen.
Threelives.
Entwinedtogether.
Andsomewherebetweenthesetwomen,Ihadtofindmyforever.WHATSUCKEDTHEMOSTWAS
thatI,FrancescaRossi,hadmyentirefuturelockedinsideanunremarkableoldwoodenbox.
SincethedayI’dbeenmadeawareofit—atsixyearsold—Iknewthatwhateverwaitedformeinsidewasgoingtoeitherkillorsaveme.Soitwasnowonderthatyesterdayatdawn,whenthesunkissedthesky,Idecidedtorushfateandopenit.
Iwasn’tsupposedtoknowwheremymotherkeptthekey.
Iwasn’tsupposedtoknowwheremyfatherkeptthebox.
Butthethingaboutsittingathomealldayandgroomingyourselftodeathsoyoucouldmeetyourparents’next-to-impossiblestandards?Youhavetime—inspades.
“Holdstill,Francesca,orI’llprickyouwiththeneedle,”Veronicawhinedunderneathme.
Myeyesranacrosstheyellownoteforthehundredthtimeasmymother’sstylisthelpedmegetintomydressasifIwasaninvalid.Iinkedthewordstomemory,lockingtheminadrawerinmybrainnooneelsehadaccessto.
Excitementblastedthroughmyveinslikeajazzytune,myeyeszingingwithdeterminationinthemirrorinfrontofme.Ifoldedthepieceofpaperwithshakyfingersandshoveditintothecleavageundermyunlacedcorset.
Istartedpacingintheroomagain,tooanimatedtostandstill,makingMama’shairdresserandstylistbarkatmeastheychasedmearoundthedressingroomcomically.
IamGrouchoMarxin
DuckSoup.Catchmeifyoucan.
Veronicatuggedattheendofmycorset,pullingmebacktothemirrorasifIwereonaleash.
“Hey,ouch.”Iwinced.
“Standstill,Isaid!”
Itwasnotuncommonformyparents’employeestotreatmelikeaglorified,well-bredpoodle.Notthatitmattered.IwasgoingtokissAngeloBandinitonight.Morespecifically—Iwasgoingtolethim
kissme
I’dbelyingifIsaidIhadn’tthoughtaboutkissingAngeloeverynightsinceIreturnedayearagofromtheSwissboardingschoolmyparentsthrewmein.Atnineteen,ArthurandSofiaRossihadofficiallydecidedtointroducemetotheChicagoansocietyandletmehavemypickofafuturehusbandfromthehundredsofeligibleItalian-AmericanmenwhowereaffiliatedwithTheOutfit.Tonightwasgoingtokick-startachainofeventsandsocialcalls,butIalreadyknewwhomIwantedtomarry.
PapaandMamahadinformedmethatcollegewasn’tinthecardsforme.Ineededtoattendtothetaskoffindingtheperfecthusband,seeingasIwasanonlychildandthesoleheirtotheRossibusinesses.Beingthefirstwomaninmyfamilytoeverearnadegreehadbeenadreamofmine,butIwasnowhereneardumbenoughtodefythem.Ourmaid,Clara,oftensaid,“Youdon’tneedtomeetahusband,Frankie.Youneedtomeetyourparents’expectations.”
Shewasn’twrong.Iwasbornintoagildedcage.Itwasspacious,butlocked,nonetheless.Tryingtoescapeitwasriskingdeath.Ididn’tlikebeingaprisoner,butIimaginedI’dlikeitmuchlessthanbeingsixfeetunder.AndsoI’dneverevendaredtopeekthroughthebarsofmyprisonandseewhatwasontheotherside.
Myfather,ArthurRossi,wastheheadofTheOutfit.
Thetitlesoundedpainfullymercilessforamanwho’dbraidedmyhair,taughtmehowtoplaythepiano,andevenshedafiercetearatmyLondonrecitalwhenIplayedthepianoinfrontofanaudienceofthousands.
Angelo—youguessedit—wastheperfecthusbandintheeyesofmyparents.Attractive,well-heeled,andthoroughlymoneyed.HisfamilyownedeverysecondbuildingonUniversityVillage,andmostofthepropertieswereusedbymyfatherforhismanyillicitprojects.
I’dknownAngelosincebirth.Wewatchedeachothergrowthewayflowersblossom.Slowly,yetfastatthesametime.Duringluxurioussummervacationsandunderthestrictsupervisionofourrelatives,MadeMen—menwhohadbeenformallyinducedasfullmembersofthemafia—andbodyguards.
Angelohadfoursiblings,twodogs,andasmilethatwouldmelttheItalianicecreaminyourpalm.Hisfatherrantheaccountingfirmthatworkedwithmyfamily,andwebothtookthesameannualSicilianvacationsinSyracuse.
Overtheyears,I’dwatchedasAngelo’ssoftblondcurlsdarkenedandweretamedwithatrim.Howhisglittering,ocean-blueeyesbecamelessplayfulandbroodier,hardenedbythethingshisfathernodoubthadshownandtaughthim.Howhisvoicehaddeepened,hisItalianaccentsharpened,andhebegantofillhisslenderboy-framewithmusclesandheightandconfidence.Hebecamemoremysteriousandlessimpulsive,spokelessoften,butwhenhedid,hiswordsliquefiedmyinsides.
Fallinginlovewassotragic.Nowonderitmadepeoplesosad.
AndwhileIlookedatAngeloasifhecouldmelticecream,Iwasn’ttheonlygirlwhomeltedfromhisconstantfrownwheneverhelookedatme.
ItmademesicktothinkthatwhenIwentbacktomyall-girls’Catholicschool,he’dgonebacktoChicagotohangoutandtalkandkiss
othergirls.Buthe’dalwaysmademefeellikeIwasTheGirl.Hesneakedflowersintomyhair,letmesipsomeofhiswinewhennoonewaslooking,andlaughedwithhiseyeswheneverIspoke.Whenhisyoungerbrotherstauntedme,heflickedtheirearsandwarnedthemoff.Andeverysummer,hefoundawaytostealamomentwithmeandkissthetipofmynose.
“FrancescaRossi,you’reevenprettierthanyouwerelastsummer.”
“Youalwayssaythat.”
“AndIalwaysmeanit.I’mnotinthehabitofwastingwords.”
“Tellmesomethingimportant,then.”
“You,mygoddess,willonedaybemywife.”
Itendedtoeverymemoryfromeachsummerlikeitwasasacredgarden,guardeditwithfencedaffection,andwateredituntilitgrewtoafairy-tale-likerecollection.
Morethananything,Irememberedhow,eachsummer,I’dholdmybreathuntilhesnuckintomyroom,ortheshopI’dvisit,orthetreeI’dreadabookunder.Howhebegantoprolongour“moments”astheyearstickedbyandweenteredadolescence,watchingmewithopenamusementasItried—andfailed—toactlikeoneoftheboyswhenIwassopainfullyandbrutallyagirl.
ItuckedthenotedeeperintomybrajustasVeronicadughermeatyfingersintomyivoryflesh,gatheringthecorsetbehindmefrombothendsandtighteningitaroundmywaist.
“Tobenineteenandgorgeousagain,”shebellowedratherdramatically.Thesilkycreamstringsstrainedagainstoneanother,andIgasped.OnlytheroyalcrustoftheItalianOutfitstillusedstylistsandmaidstogetreadyforanevent.Butasfarasmyparentswereconcerned—weweretheWindsors.“Rememberthedays,Alma?”
Thehairdressersnorted,pinningmybangssidewaysasshecompletedmywavychignonupdo.“Honey,getoffyourhighhorse.YouwereprettylikeaHallmarkcardwhenyouwerenineteen.Francesca,here,isTheCreationofAdam
.Notthesameleague.Noteventhesameballgame.”
Ifeltmyskinflarewithembarrassment.Ihadasensethatpeopleenjoyedwhattheysawwhentheylookedatme,butIwasmortifiedbytheideaofbeauty.Itwaspowerfulyetslippery.AbeautifullywrappedgiftIwasboundtoloseoneday.Ididn’twanttoopenitorravishinitsperks.Itwouldonlymakepartingwayswithitmoredifficult.
TheonlypersonIwantedtonoticemyappearancetonightattheArtInstituteofChicagomasqueradewasAngelo.ThethemeofthegalawasGodsandGoddessesthroughtheGreekandRomanmythologies.IknewmostwomenwouldshowupasAphroditeorVenus.MaybeHeraorRhea,iforiginalitystruckthem.Notme.IwasNemesis,thegoddessofretribution.Angelohadalwayscalledmeadeity,andtonight,Iwasgoingtojustifymypetnamebyshowingupasthemostpowerfulgoddessofthemall.
Itmayhavebeensillyinthe21st
centurytowanttogetmarriedatnineteeninanarrangedmarriage,butinTheOutfit,weallbowedtotradition.Ourshappenedtobelongfirmlyinthe1800s.
“Whatwasinthenote?”Veronicaclippedasetofvelvetyblackwingstomybackafterslidingmydressovermybody.Itwasastraplessgownthecoloroftheclearsummerskywithmagnificentorganzabluescallops.Thetulletrailedtwofeetbehindme,poolinglikeanoceanatmymaids’feet.“Youknow,theoneyoustuckinyourcorsetforsafekeeping.”Shesnickered,slidinggoldenfeather-wingearringsintomyears
“That”—Ismileddramatically,meetinghergazeinthemirrorinfrontofus,myhandflutteringovermychestwherethenoterested—“isthebeginningoftherestofmylife.”“IDIDN’TKNOW
VENUSHAD
wings.”
AngelokissedthebackofmyhandatthedoorstotheArtInstituteofChicago.MyheartsankbeforeIpushedthesillydisappointmentaside.Hewasonlybaitingme.Besides,helookedsodazzlinglyhandsomeinhistuxtonight,Icouldforgiveanymistakehemade,shortofcoldheartedmurder.
Themen,unlikethewomenatthegala,woreauniformoftuxedosanddemi-masks.Angelocomplementedhissuitwithagolden-leafedVenetianmasquerademaskthattookovermostofhisface.Ourparentsexchangedpleasantrieswhilewestoodinfrontofeachother,drinkingineveryfreckleandinchoffleshononeanother.Ididn’texplainmyNemesiscostumetohim.We’dhavetime—anentirelifetime—todiscussmythology.Ijustneededtomakesurethattonightwe’dhaveanotherfleetingsummermoment.Onlythistime,whenhekissedmynose,I’dlookupandlockourlips,andfate,together.
IamCupid,shootinganarrowoflovestraightintoAngelo’sheart.
“YoulookmorebeautifulthanthelasttimeIsawyou.”Angeloclutchedthefabricofhissuitoverwherehisheartbeat,feigningsurrender.Everyonearoundushadgonequiet,andInoticedourfathersstaringatoneanotherconspiratorially.
Twopowerful,wealthyItalian-Americanfamilieswithstrongmutualties.
DonVitoCorleonewouldbeproud.
“YousawmeaweekagoatGianna’swedding.”IfoughttheurgetolickmylipsasAngelostaredmestraightintheeyes.
“Weddingssuityou,buthavingyoualltomyselfsuitsyoumore,”hesaidsimply,throwingmyheartintofifthgear,beforetwistingtowardmyfather.“Mr.Rossi,mayIescortyourdaughtertothetable?”
Myfatherclaspedmyshoulderfrombehind.Iwasonlyvaguelyawareofhispresenceasathickfogofeuphoriaengulfedme.“KeepyourhandswhereIcanseethem.”
“Always,sir.”
AngeloandIentwinedourarmstogetherasoneofthedozensofwaitersshowedustoourseatsatthetableclothedingoldandgracedwithfineblackchina.Angeloleanedandwhisperedinmyear,“Oratleastuntilyou’reofficiallymine.”
TheRossisandBandinishadbeenplacedafewseatsawayfromeachother—muchtomydisappointment,butnottomysurprise.Myfatherwasalwaysattheheartofeverypartyandpaidaprettypennytohavethebestseatseverywherehewent.Acrossfromme,thegovernorofIllinois,PrestonBishop,andhiswifefrettedoverthewinelist.NexttothemwasamanIdidn’tknow.Heworeasimpleall-blackdemi-maskandatuxthatmust’vecostafortunebyitsrichfabricandimpeccablecut.HewasseatednexttoaboisterousblondeinawhiteFrenchtullecamisolegown.OneofdozensofVenuseswhoarrivedinthesamenumber.
Themanlookedboredtodeath,swirlingthewhiskeyinhisglassasheignoredthebeautifulwomanbyhisside.Whenshetriedtoleaninandspeaktohim,heturnedtheotherwayandcheckedhisphone,beforecompletelylosinginterestinallthingscombinedandstaringatthewallbehindme.
Apangofsorrowslicedthroughme.Shedeservedbetterthanwhathewasoffering.Betterthanacold,forebodingmanwhosentchillsdownyourspinewithoutevenlookingatyou.
Ibethecouldkeepicecreamchilledfordaysonend.
“YouandAngeloseemtobetakenwithoneanother,”Paparemarkedconversationally,glancingatmyelbows,whichwereproppedonthetable.Iwithdrewthemimmediately,smilingpolitely.
“He’snice.”I’dsay‘supernice’,butmyfatherabsolutelydetestedmodernslang.
“Hefitsthepuzzle,”Papasnipped.“Heaskedifhecouldtakeyououtnextweek,andIsaidyes.WithMario’ssupervision,ofcourse.”
Ofcourse.
MariowasoneofDad’sdozensofmusclemen.HehadtheshapeandIQofabrick.IhadafeelingPapawasn’tgoingtoletmesneakanywherehecouldn’tseemetonight,preciselybecauseheknewAngeloandIgotalongalittletoowell.Papawasoverallsupportive,buthewantedthingstobedoneacertainway.Awaymostpeoplemyagewouldfindbackwardormaybeevenborderlinebarbaric.Iwasn’tstupid.IknewIwasdiggingmyselfaholebynotfightingformyrightforeducationandgainfulemployment.IknewthatI
shouldbetheonetodecidewhomIwantedtomarry.
ButIalsoknewthatitwashiswayorthehighway.Breakingfreecamewiththepriceofleavingmyfamilybehind—andmyfamilywasmyentireworld.
Otherthantradition,TheChicagoanOutfitwasvastlydifferentfromtheversiontheyportrayedinthemovies.Nogrittyalleyways,slimydrugaddicts,andbloodycombatswiththelaw.Nowadays,itwasallaboutmoneylaundering,acquisition,andrecycling.Myfatheropenlycourtedthepolice,mingledwithtop-tierpoliticians,andevenhelpedtheFBInailhigh-profilesuspects.
Infact,thatwaspreciselywhywewereheretonight.Papahadagreedtodonateastaggeringamountofmoneytoanewcharityfoundationdesignedtohelpat-riskyouthacquireahighereducation.
Oh,irony,myloyalfriend.
IsippedchampagneandstaredacrossthetableatAngelo,makingconversationwithagirlnamedEmilywhosefatherownedthebiggestbaseballstadiuminIllinois.Angelotoldherhewasabouttoenrollintoamaster’sprogramatNorthwestern,whilesimultaneouslyjoininghisfather’saccountingfirm.Thetruthwas,hewasgoingtolaundermoneyformyfatherandserveTheOutfituntiltherestofhisdays.IwasgettinglostintheirconversationwhenGovernorBishopturnedhisattentiontome.
“Andwhataboutyou,LittleRossi?Areyouattendingcollege?”
Everyonearounduswasconversingandlaughing,otherthanthemaninfrontofme.Hestillignoredhisdateinfavorofdowninghisdrinkanddisregardinghisphone,whichflashedwithahundredmessagesaminute.Nowthathelookedatme,healsolookedthroughme.Ivaguelywonderedhowoldhewas.Helookedolderthanme,butnotquitePapa’sage.
“Me?”Ismiledcourteously,myspinestiffening.Ismoothedmynapkinovermylap.Mymannerswereflawless,andIwaswellversedinmindlessconversations.I’dlearnedLatin,etiquette,andgeneralknowledgeatschool.Icouldentertainanyone,fromworldleaderstoapieceofchewedgum.“Oh,Ijustgraduatedayearago.I’mnowworkingtowardexpandingmysocialrepertoireandformingconnectionshereinChicago.”
“Inotherwords,youneitherworknorstudy,”themaninfrontofmecommentedflatly,knockinghisdrinkbackandshootingmyfatheraviciousgrin.IfeltmyearspinkingasIblinkedatmyfatherforhelp.Hemustn’thaveheardbecauseheseemedtolettheremarkbrushhimby.
“JesusChrist,”theblondwomannexttotherudemangrowled,reddening.Hewavedheroff.
“We’reamongfriends.Noonewouldleakthis.”
Leakthis?
Whothehellwashe?
Iperkedup,takingasipofmydrink.“ThereareotherthingsIdo,ofcourse.”
“Doshare,”hetauntedinmockfascination.Oursideofthetablefellsilent.Itwasagrimkindofsilence.Thetypethathintedacringeworthymomentwasuponus.
“Ilovecharities…”
“That’snotanactualactivity.Whatdoyoudo?
”
Verbs,Francesca.Thinkverbs.
“Iridehorsesandenjoygardening.Iplaythepiano.I…ah,shopforallthethingsIneed.”Iwasmakingitworse,andIknewit.Buthewouldn’tletmediverttheconversationelsewhere,andnooneelsesteppedintomyrescue.
“Thosearehobbiesandluxuries.What’syourcontributiontosociety,MissRossi,otherthansupportingtheUSeconomybybuyingenoughclothestocoverNorthAmerica?”
Utensilsclutteredonfinechina.Awomangasped.Theleftoversofchatterstoppedcompletely.
“That’senough,”myfatherhissed,hisvoicefrosty,hiseyesdead.Iflinched,butthemaninthemaskremainedcomposed,straight-spinedand,ifanything,gailyamusedattheturntheconversationhadtaken.
“Itendtoagree,Arthur.IthinkI’velearnedeverythingthereistoknowaboutyourdaughter.Andinaminute,noless.”
“Haveyouforgottenyourpoliticalandpublicdutiesathome,alongwithyourmanners?”myfatherremarked,foreverwellmannered.
Themangrinnedwolfishly.“Onthecontrary,Mr.Rossi.IthinkIrememberthemquiteclearly,muchtoyourfuturedisappointment.”
PrestonBishopandhiswifeextinguishedthesocialdisasterbyaskingmemorequestionsaboutmyupbringinginEurope,myrecitals,andwhatIwantedtostudy(botany,thoughIwasn’tstupidenoughtopointoutthatcollegewasnotinmycards).Myparentssmiledatmyflawlessconduct,andeventhewomannexttotherudestrangertentativelyjoinedtheconversation,talkingaboutherEuropeantripduringhergapyear.Shewasajournalistandhadtraveledallovertheworld.Butnomatterhowniceeveryonewas,Icouldn’tshaketheterriblehumiliationI’dsufferedunderthesharptongueofherdate,who—bytheway—gotbacktostaringatthebottomofhisfreshlypouredtumblerwithanexpressionthatoozedboredom.
Icontemplatedtellinghimhedidn’tneedanotherdrinkbutprofessionalhelpcouldworkwonders.
Afterdinnercamethedancing.Eachwomaninattendancehadadancecardfilledwithnamesofthosewhomadeanundisclosedbid.Alltheprofitswenttocharity.
Iwenttocheckmycardonthelongtablecontainingthenamesofthewomenwho’dattended.MyheartbeatfasterasIscannedit,spottingAngelo’sname.MyexhilarationwasquicklyreplacedwithdreadwhenIrealizedmycardwasfulltothebrimwithItalian-soundingnames,muchlongerthantheothersscatteredaroundit,andIwouldlikelyspendtherestofthenightdancinguntilmyfeetwerenumb.SneakingakisswithAngelowasgoingtobetricky.
Myfirstdancewaswithafederaljudge.ThenaragingItalian-AmericanplayboyfromNewYork,whotoldmehe’dcomeherejusttoseeiftherumorsaboutmylooksweretrue.Hekissedthehemofmyskirtlikeamedievaldukebeforehisfriendsdraggedhisdrunkenbuttbacktotheirtable.Pleasedon’taskmyfatherforadate,Igroanedinwardly.Heseemedlikethekindofrichtoolwho’dmakemylifesomevariationofTheGodfather.
ThethirdwasGovernorBishop,andthefourthwasAngelo.Itwasarelativelyshortwaltz,butItriednottoletitdampenmymood.
“Theresheis.”Angelo’sfacelitupwhenheapproachedmeandthegovernorforourdance.
Chandeliersseepedfromtheceiling,andthemarblefloorsangwiththeclinkingheelsofthedancers.Angelodippedhisheadtomine,takingmyhandinhis,andplacinghisotherhandonmywaist.
“Youlookbeautiful.Evenmoresothantwohoursago,”hebreathed,sendingwarmairtomyface.Tiny,velvetybutterflywingstickledatmyheart.
“Goodtoknow,becauseIcan’tbreatheinthisthing.”Ilaughed,myeyeswildlysearchinghis.Iknewhecouldn’tkissmenow,andadashofpanicwashedoverthebutterflies,drowningthemindread.Whatifwecouldn’tcatcheachotheratall?Thenthenotewouldbeuseless.
Thiswoodenboxwillsavemeorkillme.
“I’dlovetogiveyoumouth-to-mouthwheneveryou’reoutofbreath.”Heskimmedmyface,histhroatbobbingwithaswallow.“ButIwouldstartwithasimpledatenextweek,ifyouareinterested.”
“I’minterested,”Isaidmuchtooquickly.Helaughed,hisforeheadfallingtomine.
“Wouldyouliketoknowwhen?”
“Whenwe’regoingout?”Iaskeddumbly.
“That,too.Friday,bytheway.ButImeantwhenwasthepointinwhichIknewyouweregoingtobemywife?”heaskedwithoutmissingabeat.Icouldbarelybringmyselftonod.Iwantedtocry.IfelthishandtighteningaroundmywaistandrealizedIwaslosingmybalance.
“Itwasthesummeryouturnedsixteen.Iwastwenty.Cradlesnatcher.”Helaughed.“WearrivedatourSiciliancabinlate.IwasrollingmysuitcasebytherivernexttoouradjoinedcabinswhenIspottedyouthreadingflowersintoacrownonthedock.Youweresmilingattheflowers,soprettyandelusive,andIdidn’twanttobreakthespellbytalkingtoyou.Thenthewindswipedtheflowerseverywhere.Youdidn’tevenhesitate.Youjumpedheadfirstintotheriverandretrievedeverysingleflowerthathaddriftedfromthecrown,eventhoughyouknewitwouldn’tsurvive.Whydidyoudothat?”
“Itwasmymother’sbirthday,”Iadmitted.“Failurewasnotanoption.Thebirthdaycrownturnedoutpretty,bytheway.”
Myeyesdriftedtotheuselessspacebetweenourchests.
“Failureisnotanoption,”Angelorepeatedthoughtfully.
“Youkissedmynoseintherestroomofthatrestaurantthatday,”Ipointedout.
“Iremember.”
“Areyougoingtostealanose-kisstonight?”Iasked.
“Iwouldneverstealfromyou,Frankie.I’dbuymykissfromyouatfullprice,downtothepenny,”hesparredgood-naturedly,winkingatme,“butI’mafraidthatbetweenyourshockinglyfullcardandmyobligationstominglewitheveryMadeManwhowasluckyenoughtosnatchaninvitationtothisthing,araincheckmayberequired.Don’tworry,I’vealreadytoldMarioI’dtiphimgenerouslyfortakinghistimefetchingourcarfromthevaletonFriday.”
Thetrickleofpanicwasnowafull-blowndownpourofterror.Ifhewasn’tgoingtokissmetonight,thenote’spredictionwouldgotowaste.
“Please?”Itriedtosmilebrighter,maskingmyterrorwitheagerness.“Mylegscouldusethebreak.”
Hebithisfistandlaughed.“Somanysexualinnuendos,Francesca.”
Ididn’tknowifIwantedtocrywithdespairorscreamwithfrustration.Probablyboth.Thesonghadn’tendedyet,andwewerestillswayingineachother’sarms,lulledinsideadarkspell,whenIfeltafirm,stronghandplasteredonthebarepartofmyupperback
“Ibelieveit’smyturn.”Iheardthelowvoiceboomingbehindme.Iturnedaroundwithascowltofindtherudemanintheblackdemi-maskstaringbackatme.
Hewastall—six-foot-threeorfour—withtousledink-blackhairsmoothedbacktotantalizingperfection.Hissinewy,hardphysiquewasslimyetbroad.Hiseyeswerepebblegray,slanted,andmenacing,andhistoo-squarejawframedhisbowedlipsperfectly,givinghisotherwisetoo-handsomeappearanceagrittyedge.Ascornful,impersonalsmirkgracedhislipsandIwantedtoslapitoffhisface.HewasobviouslystillamusedwithwhathethoughtwasabunchofnonsenseIspatoutatthedinnertable.AndweclearlyhadanaudienceasInoticedhalftheroomwasnowglaringatuswithopeninterest.Thewomenlookedathimlikehungrysharksinafishbowl.Themenhadhalf-curvedgrinsofhilarity.
“Mindyourhands,”Angelosnarledwhenthesongchanged,andhecouldnolongerkeepmeinhisarms.
“Mindyourbusiness,”themandeadpanned.
“Areyousureyou’reonmycard?”Iturnedtothemanwithapoliteyetdistantsmile.IwasstilldisorientedfromtheexchangewithAngelowhenthestrangerpulledmeagainsthishardbodyandpressedapossessivehandlowerthansociallyacceptableonmyback,asecondfromgropingmybutt.
“Answerme,”Ihissed.
“Mybidonyourcardwasthehighest,”hereplieddryly.
“Thebidsareanonymous.Youdon’tknowhowmuchotherpeoplehavepaid,”Ikeptmylipspursedtokeepmyselffromyelling.
“Iknowit’snowhereneartherealmofwhatthisdanceisworth.”
Un-freaking-believable.
Webegantowaltzaroundtheroomasothercoupleswerenotonlyspinningandminglingbutalsostealingenviousglancesatus.Naked,rawoglesthattoldmethatwhomevertheblondehe’dcometothemasqueradewithwas,shewasn’thiswife.AndthatImighthavebeenalltherageinTheOutfit,buttherudemanwasinhighdemand,too.
Iwasstiffandcoldinhisarms,buthedidn’tseemtonotice—ormind.Heknewhowtowaltzbetterthanmostmen,buthewastechnical,andlackedwarmthandAngelo’splayfulness.
“Nemesis.”Hetookmebysurprise,hisrapaciousgazestrippingmebare.“Distributinggleeanddealingmisery.SeemsatoddswiththesubmissivegirlwhoentertainedBishopandhishorseywifeatthetable.”
Ichokedonmyownsaliva.Didhejustcallthegovernor’swifehorsey?Andme
submissive?Ilookedaway,ignoringtheaddictivescentofhiscologne,andthewayhismarblebodyfeltagainstmine.
“Nemesisismyspiritanimal.ShewastheonetolureNarcissustoapoolwherehesawhisownreflectionanddiedofvanity.Prideisaterribleillness.”Iflashedhimatauntingsmirk.
“Someofuscouldusecatchingit.”Hebaredhisstraightwhiteteeth.
“Arroganceisadisease.Compassionisthecure.Mostgodsdidn’tlikeNemesis,butthat’sbecauseshehadabackbone.”
“Doyou?”Hearchedadarkeyebrow
“DoI…?”Iblinked,thecourteousgrinonmyfacecrumpling.Hewasevenruderwhenwewerealone.
“Haveabackbone,”heprovided.Hestaredatmesoboldlyandintimately,itfeltlikehebreathedfireintomysoul.Iwantedtostepoutofhistouchandjumpintoapoolfullofice.
“Ofcourse,Ido,”Iresponded,myspinestiffening.“What’swiththemanners?Wereyouraisedbywildcoyotes?”
“Givemeanexample,”hesaid,ignoringmyquip.Iwasbeginningtodrawawayfromhim,buthejerkedmebackintohisarms.Theglitzyballroomdistortedintoabackdrop,andeventhoughIwasstartingtonoticethatthemanbehindthedemi-maskwasunusuallybeautiful,theuglinessofhisbehaviorwastheonlythingthatstoodout.
Iamawarriorandalady…andasanepersonwhocandealwiththishorridman.
“IreallylikeAngeloBandini.”Idroppedmyvoice,slicingmygazefromhiseyesandtowardthetablewhereAngelo’sfamilyhadbeenseated.Myfatherwassittingafewseatsaway,staringatuscoldly,surroundedbyMadeMenwhochattedaway.
“Andsee,inmyfamily,wehaveatraditiondatingbacktengenerations.Priortoherwedding,aRossibrideistoopenawoodenchest—carvedandmadebyawitchwholivedinmyancestors’Italianvillage—andreadthreenoteswrittentoherbythelastRossigirltomarry.It’skindofagoodluckcharmmixedwithatalismanandabitoffortunetelling.Istolethechesttonightandopenedoneofthenotes,allsoIcouldrushfate.ItsaidthattonightIwasgoingtobekissedbytheloveofmylife,andwell…”Idrewmylowerlipintomymouthandsuckedit,peeringundermyeyelashesatAngelo’semptyseat.Themanstaredatmestoically,asthoughIwasaforeignfilmhecouldn’tunderstand.“I’mgoingtokisshimtonight.”
“That’syourbackbone?”
“WhenIhaveanambition,Igoforit.”
Aconceitedfrowncrinkledhismask,asiftosayIwasacompleteanduttermoron.Ilookedhimstraightintheeye.Myfathertaughtmethatthebestwaytodealwithmenlikehimwastoconfront,notrun.Because,thisman?He’dchase.
Yes,Ibelieveinthattradition.
No,Idon’tcarewhatyouthink.
Thenitoccurredtomethatoverthecourseoftheevening,I’dofferedhimmyentirelifestoryanddidn’tevenaskforhisname.Ididn’twanttoknow,butetiquettedemandedthatIatleastpretend.
“Iforgottoaskwhoyouare.”
“That’sbecauseyoudidn’tcare,”hequipped.
Heregardedmewiththesametaciturnity.Itwasanoxymoronoffierceboredom.Isaidnothingbecauseitwastrue
“SenatorWolfeKeaton.”Thewordsrolledoffhistonguesharply.
“Aren’tyoualittleyoungtobeasenator?”IcomplimentedhimonprincipaltoseeifIcoulddefrostthethicklayerofassholehe’dbuiltaroundhimself.Somepeoplejustneededatighthug.Aroundtheneck.Wait,Iwasactuallythinkingaboutchokinghim.Notthesamething.
“Thirty.CelebratedinSeptember.GotelectedthisNovember.”
“Congratulations.”Icouldn’tcareless.“Youmustbethrilled.”
“Overthegoddamnmoon.”Hedrewmeevencloser,pullingmybodyflushagainsthis.
“CanIaskyouapersonalquestion?”Iclearedmythroat.
“OnlyifIcandothesame,”heshot.
Iconsideredit.
“Youcan.”
Hedippedhischindown,givingmepermissiontocontinue.
“Whydidyouasktodancewithme,nottomentionpaidgoodmoneyforthedubiouspleasure,ifyouobviouslythinkeverythingIstandforisshallowanddistasteful?”
Forthefirsttimetonight,somethingthatresembledasmilecrossedhisface.Itlookedunnatural,almostillusory.Idecidedhewasnotinthehabitoflaughingoften.Oratall.
“Iwantedtoseeformyselfiftherumorsaboutyourbeautyweretrue.”
Thatagain.Iresistedtheurgetostomponhisfoot.Menweresuchsimplecreatures.But,Iremindedmyself,AngelothoughtIwasprettyevenbefore
.WhenIstillhadbraces,ablanketoffrecklescoveringmynoseandcheeks,andunruly,mousy-brownhairIhadyettolearnhowtotame.
“Myturn,”hesaid,withoutvoicinghisverdictonmylooks.“HaveyoupickedoutnamesforyourchildrenwithyourBanginiyet?”
Itwasanoddquestion,onethatwasnodoubtdesignedtomakefunofme.Iwantedtoturnaroundandwalkawayfromhimrightthereandthen.Butthemusicwasfading,anditwasstupidtothrowinthetowelonanencounterthatwouldendshortly.Besides,everythingthatcameoutofmymouthseemedtobotherhim.Whyruinaperfectstrike?
“Bandini
.Andyes,Ihave,asamatteroffact.Christian,Joshua,andEmmaline.”
Okay,Imight’vepickedthesexes,too.Thatwaswhathappenedwhenyouhadtoomuchtimeonyourhands.
Nowthestrangerinthedemi-maskwasgrinningfully,andifmyangerdidn’tmakeitfeelasthoughpurevenomranthroughmyveins,Icouldappreciatehiscommercial-worthydentalhygiene.Insteadofbowinghisheadandkissingmyhand,asthebrochureforthemasqueradehadindicatedwascompulsory,hetookastepbackandsalutedmeinmockery.“Thankyou,FrancescaRossi.”
“Forthedance?”
“Fortheinsight.”
ThenightbecameprogressivelyworseafterthecurseddancewithSenatorKeaton.Angelowassittingatatablewithagroupofmen,lockedinaheatedargument,asIwastossedfromonepairofarmstotheother,minglingandsmilingandlosingmyhopeandsanity,onesongatatime.Icouldn’tbelievetheabsurdityofmysituation.Istolemymother’swoodenbox—theoneandonlythingI’deverstolen—toreadmynoteandgetthecouragetoshowAngelohowIfelt.Ifhewasn’tgoingtokissmetonight—ifnoone
wasgoingtokissmetonight—didthatmeanIwasdoomedtolivealovelesslife?
Threehoursintothemasquerade,Imanagedtoslipouttheentranceofthemuseumandstoodonthewideconcretesteps,breathinginthecrispspringnight.Mylastdancehadtoleaveearly.Thankfully,hiswifehadgoneintolabor
Ihuggedmyownarms,bravingtheChicagowindandlaughingsadlyatnothinginparticular.Oneyellowcabzippedbythetallbuildings,andacouplehuddledtogetherwerezigzagginggiddilytotheirdestination.
Click.
Itsoundedlikesomeoneshutdowntheuniverse.Thelamppostsalongthestreetturnedoffunexpectedly,andallthelightfadedfromview.
Itwasmorbidlybeautiful;theonlylightvisiblewastheshimmeringlonelycrescentabovemyhead.Ifeltanarmwraparoundmywaistfrombehind.Thetouchwasconfidentandstrong,curvingaroundmybodylikethemanitbelongedtohadstudieditforawhile.
Foryears.
Iturnedaround.Angelo’sgoldandblackmasquerademaskstaredbackatme.Alltheairleftmylungs,mybodyturningintogoo,slackinginhisarmswithrelief.
“Youcame,”Iwhispered.
Histhumbbrushedmycheeks.Asoft,wordlessnod.
Yes.
Heleaneddownandpressedhislipstomine.Myheartsquealedinsidemychest.
Shutthefrontdoor.Thisishappening.
Igrabbedtheedgesofhissuit,pullinghimcloser.I’dimaginedourkisscountlesstimesbefore,butI’dneverexpectedittofeellikethis.Likehome.Likeoxygen.Likeforever.Hisfulllipsflutteredovermine,sendinghotairintomymouth,andheexplored,andnipped,andbitmylowerlipbeforeclaimingmymouthwithhis,slantinghisheadsidewaysanddippingdownforaferociouscaress.Heopenedhismouth,histonguepeekingoutandswipingmine.Ireturnedthefavor.Hedrewmeclose,devouringmeslowlyandpassionately,pressinghishandtothesmallofmybackandgroaningintomymouthlikeIwaswaterinthedesert.Imoanedintohislipsandlickedeverycornerofhismouthwithzeroexpertise,feelingembarrassed,aroused,andmoreimportantly,free.
Free.
Inhisarms.Wasthereanythingmoreliberatingthanfeelingloved?
Iswayedinthesecurityofhisarms,kissinghimforagoodthreeminutesbeforemysensescrawledbackintomyfoggybrain.HetastedofwhiskeyandnotthewineAngelohadbeendrinkingallnight.Hewassignificantlytallerthanme—tallerthanAngelo—evenifnotbymuch.Thenhisaftershavedriftedintomynose,andIrememberedtheicypebbleeyes,rawpower,anddarksensualitythatlickedflamesofangerinsidemyguts.Itookaslowbreathandfelttheburninsideme.
No.
Itoremylipsfromhisandstumbledback,trippingoverastair.Hegrabbedmywristandyankedmebacktopreventmyfallbutmadenoefforttoresumeourkiss.
“You!”Icriedout,myvoiceshaking.Withperfecttiming,thestreetlampscamebacktolife,illuminatingthesharpcurvesofhisface.
Angelohadsoftcurvesoveradefinedjaw.Thismanwasallharshstreaksandcutedges.Helookednothinglikemycrush,evenwithademi-maskon.
Howdidhedothat?Why
didhedothat?Tearspooledinmyeyes,butIheldthemback.Ididn’twanttogivethiscompletestrangerthesatisfactionofseeingmecrumple.
“Howdareyou,”Isaidquietly,bitingmycheeksuntilthetasteofwarmbloodfilledmymouthtokeepfromscreaming.
Hetookastepback,slidingAngelo’smaskoff—Godknowshowhegothishandsonit—andtossingitonthestairslikeitwascontaminated.Hisunmaskedfacewasunveiledlikeapieceofart.Brutalandintimidating,itdemandedmyattention.Itookastepsideways,puttingmorespacebetweenus.
“How?Easily.”Hewassodismissive;hewasflirtingwithopendisdain.“Asmartgirl,however,wouldhaveaskedforthewhy.
”
“Thewhy?”Iscoffed,refusingtoletthelastfiveminutesregister.I’dbeenkissedbysomeoneelse.Angelo—accordingtomyfamilytradition—wasnotgoingtobetheloveofmylife.Thisjerk,however…
Nowitwashisturntotakeastepsideways.Hisbroadbackhadbeenblockingtheentrancetothemuseum,soIfailedtoseewhowasstandingthere,hisshouldersslack,hismouthagape,hisfacegloriouslyunmasked,drinkinginthescene.
Angelotookonelookatmyswollenlips,turnedaround,andstalkedbackinwithEmilyrunningafterhim.
TheWolfewasnolongerinsheep’sclothingashemadehiswayupthestairs,givingmehisback.Whenhereachedthedoors,hisdatepouredoutasifoncue.Wolfetookherarminhisandledherdownstairs,notsparingmealookasIwiltedonthecementstairs.Icouldhearhisdatemurmuringsomething,hisdryresponsetoher,andherlaughterringingintheairlikeawindchime
Whenthedoortotheirlimoslammedshut,mylipsstungsobadIhadtotouchthemtomakesurehedidn’tsetthemonfire.Thepoweroutagewasn’tcoincidental.Hedidit.
Hetookthepower.My
power.
Iyankedthenoteoutofmycorsetandthrewitagainstthestair,stompingoveritlikeatantrum-pronekid.
WolfeKeatonwasakissthief.AWARRAGEDINSIDEME
asIstudiedeverycobwebandimperfectiononmybedroomceilingthatnight,puffingonacigarette.
Itwasjustastupid,funtradition.Hardlyascientificfact.Surely,notallthepredictionswritteninthenotesturnedouttobetrue.Iprobablywouldn’tevenseeWolfeKeatoneveragain
However,IwasboundtoseeAngelosoon.EvenifhecanceledourdatenextFriday,thereweremanyweddings,holidays,andcommunityfunctionswewerebothattendingthismonth.
Icouldexplaineverything,facetoface.Onestupidkisswasn’tgoingtoeraseyearsofverbalforeplay.I’devengonesofarasimagininghisremorseoncehefoundoutthatIonlykissedSenatorKeatonbecauseIthoughtitwashim.
Iputoutmycigaretteandlitanotherone.Ididn’ttouchmyphone,resistingtheurgetosendAngeloanover-apologetic,hystericalmessage.IneededtotalktomycousinAndreaaboutthis.Shelivedacrosstownand,sinceshewasinherearlytwenties,wasmysole,albeitreluctant,advisorwhenitcametotheoppositesex.
Acurtainofpinksandyellowsfellovertheskyasthemorningrolledin.Birdssangoutsideourlimestonemanor,perchedonmywindowledge.
Iflunganarmovermyeyesandwinced,mymouthtastingofashanddisappointment.ItwasSaturday,andIneededtoleavethehousebeforemymothergotanyideas.IdeasliketakingmeshoppingforexpensivedressesandgrillingmeaboutAngeloBandini.Forallthetackyclothesandshoesinmywardrobe,IwasaprettysimplegalbyItalian-Americanroyaltystandards.IplayedmypartbecauseIhadto,butIabsolutelyhatedbeingtreatedlikeaninvalid,airheadprincess.Iworelittletonomakeupandlikedmyhairthebestwhenitwaswild.Ipreferredhorsebackridingandgardeningtoshoppingandgettingmynailsdone.Playingthepianowasmyfavoriteoutlet.Spendinghoursstandinginadressingroomandbeingassessedbymymotherandherfriendswasmypersonaldefinitionofhell.
Iwashedmyfaceandslippedintomyblackbreeches,ridingboots,andawhitepulloverjacket.IwentdowntothekitchenandtookoutmypackofVogues,lightingoneupasInursedacappuccinoandtwoAdvils.AplumeofbluesmokerosefrommymouthasItappedmychewed-upfingernailsoverthediningtable.IinwardlycursedSenatorKeatonagain.Yesterday,atthedinnertable,hehadtheaudacitytoassumethatnotonlydidIchoosemywayoflife,butIlovedit,too.HeneveroncecontemplatedthatmaybeImerelymadepeacewithit,choosinginsteadtopickmybattleswhereIwouldemergethevictoroverthosethatwerealreadylost.
IknewIwasn’tallowedtohaveacareer.I’dcometotermswiththatheartbreakingreality,sowhy,then,couldn’tIhavetheonlythingIstillwanted?AlifewithAngelo,theonlymaninTheOutfitIactuallyliked.
Icouldhearmymother’sheelsclankingupstairsasshefussedabout,andthewhinyolddoorofmyfather’sofficepushingopen.ThenIheardPapabarkingatsomeoneinItalianonthephone,andmymotherburstingintotears.Mymotherwasn’taspontaneouscrier,andmyfatherwasn’tinthehabitofraisinghisvoice,sobothofthesereactionspiquedmyinterest.
Iscannedthefirstfloorwiththeopen-plankitchenandlargelivingroombleedingintoanimmensebalconyandspottedMarioandStefanowhisper-shoutingbetweenthemselvesinItalian.Theystoppedwhentheysawmelooking.
Icheckedtheoverheadclock.Itwasn’tquiteeleven.
Knowthatfeelingofanimpendingcalamity?Thefirstshakeofthegroundbeneathyou,thefirstrattleofthecoffeemugonthetablebeforethebrutalstorm?Thatwaswhatthismomentfeltlike.
“Frankie!”Mamacalledout,hervoicepitchinghigh,“we’reexpectingguests.Don’tgoanywhere.”
AsifIcouldjustupandleave.Thiswasawarning.Myskinbegantocrawl
“Who’scoming?”Iholleredback.
TheanswertomyquestionpresenteditselfnotasecondafterIasked,whenthedoorbellrangjustasIwasabouttoclimbupstairsandaskthemwhatwasgoingon.
Iflungthedooropentofindmynewarchenemy,WolfeKeaton,standingontheotherside,wearingaspitefulsneeronhisface.Irecognizedhimwithoutthemaskeventhoughhe’dwornoneformostoftheeveningyesterday.AsmuchasIhatedtheman,hewasbornwithanunforgettableface.
Decidedlyaloofandinfuriatinglyelegant,hebulldozedintothelandinginaRegentfitplaidsuitandatailoredblazer.Heimmediatelyshookthemorningdewfromhisloafersashisbodyguardstrailedinafterhim.
“Nemesis.
”HespatoutthewordasifI
wastheonetowronghim
.“Howareyoufeelingthismorning?”
Shitty,thankstoyou
.Ofcourse,hedidn’tneedtoknowthathehadanyimpactonmymood.ItwasbadenoughthathedeprivedmeofmyfirstkisswithAngelo.
Iclosedthedoorbehindhimwithoutsparinghimalook,welcominghimasmuchasIwouldtheGrimReaper.
“I’mdoingfantastic,SenatorKeaton.Infact,Iwantedtothankyouforyesterday,”ImentionedasIslappedmygrosslypolitesmileon.
“Youdid?”Hearchedaskepticaleyebrow,gettingridofhisjacketandhandingittooneofhisbodyguardssinceIhadn’tofferedtotakeit.
“Yes.Youshowedmehowarealmanshouldn’tbehave,provingAngeloBandiniisthemanforme.”HissecurityguyhungWolfe’sjacketononeofourhangers,ignoringmypresence.Keaton’sbodyguardsweredifferentthanDad’s.Theyworeactualuniformsandmostlikelyhadamilitarybackground.
“Asagentleman,youhavefailedme.Asacon,however,IgiveyouanAplus.Highlyimpressive.”Igavehimtwothumbs-up.
“Youarefunny.”Hislipswerepulledtightinaflatline.
“Andyouare…?”Istarted,buthecutmeoffsharply.
“Anattorneyatlaw,andthereforeextremelyimpatientwhenitcomestoirrelevantchatter.AsmuchasIwouldlovetostandhereandtalktoyouaboutourlacklusterfirstbase,Francesca,Ihavesomebusinesstoattendto.IwouldadviseyouwaituntilI’mdonebecauseourlittlebantertodaywasjustthepreview.”
“Thatwasaprettybadpreview.Iwouldn’tbesurprisedifthemovietanked.”
Heleanedforward,enteringmypersonalspace,andchuckedmeunderthechin,hissilvereyeslightinguplikeChristmas.
“Sarcasmisanunbecomingtraitonwell-bredgirls,MissRossi.”
“Kiss-thievingwouldn’tgoonmylistofgentlemanlythingstodo,either.”
“Youkissedmeverywillingly,Nemesis.”
“BeforeIknewwhoyouwere,Villain
.”
“Therewillbeotherkissesandallofthemyou’llgivewithoutmyasking,soIwouldn’tgoaroundmakingpromisesthataredestinedtobebroken.”
Iopenedmymouthtotellhimthatheneededtogethisheadchecked,buthesawhimselfupstairsbeforeIcouldspeak,leavingmeonthelanding,blinkingawaymyshock.Howdidheevenknowwheretogo?Buttheanswerwasclear.
He’dbeenherebefore.
Heknewmyfather.
Andhedidn’tlikehimonebit.
Ispentthenexttwohourschain-smokinginthekitchen,pacingbackandforth,andmakingmyselfcappuccinosonlytothrowthemawayafteronesip.SmokingwastheonlybadhabitIwaspermittedtomaintain.Mymothersaidithelpedwithcurbingmyappetite,andmyfatherwasstillofagenerationwhereitwasseenassophisticatedandworldly.Itmademefeelgrown-up,whenotherwise,IknewIwasbeingbabiedandsheltered.
Twoofmyfather’slawyers,andtwootherpeoplewhoalsolookedlikeattorneys,enteredourhousetwentyminutesafterWolfewentupthestairs.
Mamawasbehavingstrangely,too.
ForthefirsttimesinceIwasborn,sheenteredDad’sofficeduringabusinessmeeting.Shecameouttwice.Oncetoproviderefreshments—ataskourhousekeeperClarawasnormallyassignedtodo.Thesecondtime,shegotouttothehallwayupstairs,mumblinghystericallytoherselfandaccidentallyknockingdownavase.
Whentheofficedoorfinallyclickedopenafterwhatfeltlikedays,Wolfewastheonlyonewhocamedownstairs.Istood,asifawaitingsomelife-threateningmedicalverdict.Hislastremarkhadputsnakesinmystomach,andtheirbiteswerelethalandfullofvenom.HethoughtI’dkisshimagain.Ifheaskedmyfatherforadate,though,hewasgoingtobesorelydisappointed.Hewasn’tItalian,wasn’tfromanOutfitfamily,andIdidn’tlikehimonebit.Threethingsmyfatheroughttohavetakenintoconsideration.
Wolfestoppedatthecurveofourstairs,stillonthelaststep,silentlystressinghowtallandimperialhewas.HowsmallandinsignificantI
was.
“Areyoureadyfortheverdict,Nem
?”Thecornerofhislipscurvedsinfully.
Thehairsonmyarmsstoodonend,andIfeltlikeIwasonarollercoasterthesecondbeforeitdipped.Ihadtotakeashudderingbreathandbravethewavesoffearcrashingagainstmyribcage.
“Dyingforit.”Irolledmyeyes.
“Followmeout,”heordered.
“No,thankyou.”
“I’mnotasking,”heclipped.
“GoodbecauseI’mnotaccepting.”Theharshwordsfeltviolentonmylips.I’dneverbeensorudetoanyone.ButWolfeKeatonearnedmywrath,fairandsquare.
“Packasuitcase,Francesca.”
“Excuseme?”
“Pack.A.Suitcase,”herepeatedslowlyasthoughmydecipheringhiswordswastheissue,andnottheirirrationalcontent.“Asoffifteenminutesago,you’reofficiallybetrothedtoyourstruly.Theweddingisattheendofthemonth,whichmeansyoursillyboxtradition—thanksforthestory,itwasanicetouchinmyproposal—isintact,”hedeliveredthenewscoldlyasthefloorbeneathmyfeetquakedandshattered,sendingmespiralingintoanoblivionofangerandshock.
“Mydadwouldneverdothattome.”Myfeetseemedtogluetotheground,tooscaredtogoupstairsandtestmyownwords.“Hewouldn’tsellmetothehighestbidder.”
Aslowsmirkspreadacrosshisface.Hefeastedonmyragewithopenhunger
“Whosaidmybidwasthehighest?”
IlaunchedathimwitheverythingIhad.
I’dneverhitanyone—wastaughtthatasawoman,makingascenewasthemostcommonformofthelowerclass.So,theslaponhischeekdidn’tcomequitewiththeforceIwashopingfor.Itwasmoreofaswat,almostfriendly,thatfeatheredhissquarejaw.Hedidn’tflinch.Pityanddisinterestswirledinhisbottomless,sterlingeyes.
“I’mgivingyouacoupleofhourstogetyourthingsinorder.Whatever’sleftherewillstayhere.Donottestmeontheissueofpunctuality,MissRossi.”Heenteredmypersonalspaceandclaspedagoldenwatchovermywrist.
“Howcouldyoudothis?”Inaheartbeat,Imovedfromdefyinghimtosobbing,pushingathischestnow.Iwasn’tthinking.Iwasn’tevenentirelysureIwasbreathing.“Howdidyouconvincemyparentstogiveyoutheirapproval?”
Iwasanonlychild.Mymotherwaspronetomiscarriages.Shecalledmeherpricelessjewel—buthereIwas,markedwithaGucciwristwatchbyastranger,thewatchobviouslyasmallportionofamuchlargerdowrythathadbeenpromised.Myparentscherry-pickedeveryadmirerwhoapproachedmeatpublicfunctionsandwerenotoriouslyprotectivewhenitcametomyfriends.Somuchso,infact,thatIdidn’thaveany
friendsofmyown,onlyfemaleswhosharedtheRossiname.
EverytimeImetgirlsmyage,theydeemedthemtooprovocativeornotsophisticatedenough.Thisseemedsurreal.Butforsomereason,Ididn’tdoubtforonemomentthatitwasalsothetruth
Forthefirsttimeever,Iconsideredmyfatherlessthanadeity.Hehadweaknesses,too.AndWolfeKeatonhadjustfoundeveryoneofthemandexploitedthemtohisbenefit.
Heshruggedintohisblazerandstrolledthroughthedoor,hisbodyguardsathisfeetlikeloyalLabradorpuppies.
Ishotuptothesecondfloor,mylegsonfire,adrenalinecoursingthroughthem.
“Howcouldyou!”ThefirstpersonIaimedmyangeratwasMama,whopromisedtohavemybackonthesubjectofmarriage.Isprintedtowardher,butmydadheldmedownandMariograbbedmyotherarm.Itwasthefirsttimehismenwerephysicalwithme—thefirsttimehe
wasphysicalwithme.
IkickedandscreamedastheypulledmeoutofDad’sofficewhilemymomstoodtherewithunshedtearsbrewinginhereyes.Thelawyerswereallhunchedinacorneroftheroom,staringatpapersandpretendingthatnothingunusualhadhappened.Iwantedtoscreamuntiltheentirehousecrumbledandburiedallofusunderitsruins.Toshamethem,tofightthem.
I’mnineteen.Icanrunaway.
Butrunawaytowhat?Iwascompletelyisolated.Iknewnooneandnothingotherthanmyparents.Besides,whatresourceswouldIhave?
“Francesca,”Papasaidwithatoneetchedwithstonydetermination.“Notthatitmatters,butitisnotyourmother’sfault.IchoseWolfeKeatonbecausehe’sthebetterchoice.Angeloisnicebutalmostacommoner.Hisfather’sfatherwasasimplebutcher.KeatonisthemosteligiblebachelorinChicago,andpossiblythefuturepresidentoftheUnitedStates.Heisalsoconsiderablywealthier,older,andmorebeneficialtoTheOutfitinthelongrun.”
“I’mnotTheOutfit!”Icouldfeelmyvocalcordsshakingasthewordstorefrommymouth.“I’maperson.”
“You’reboth,”heretorted.“AndasthedaughterofthemanwhorebuilttheChicagoOutfitfromscratch,youaretomakesacrifices,whetheryouwanttoornot.”
Theycarriedmetowardmyroomattheendofthehall.Mamatrailedbehindus,mumblingapologiesIwastoofreakedouttodecipher.Ididn’t,foronesecond,believethatmyfatherchose
Keatonwithoutconsultingmefirst.ButIalsoknewhewastooproudtoeveradmitit.Keatonheldthepowerhere,andIhadnoideawhy.
“Idon’twantthemosteligiblebachelorinChicago,thepresidentoftheUnitedStates,ortheVaticanpope.IwantAngelo!”Ibarked,butnoonewaslistening.
Iamair.Invisibleandinsignificant,butvitalallthesame.
Theystoppedinfrontofmyroom,theirgriponmywriststightening.MybodywentslackwhenIrealizedtheywerenolongermoving,andIventuredtopeerinside.Clarawasstuffingmyclothesandshoesintoopensuitcasesonmybed,wipingawayhertears.Mamagrabbedmyshouldersandturnedmearoundtofaceher.
“Thenotesaidwhoeverkissedyouwouldbetheloveofyourlife,didn’tit?”Herred,puffyeyesdancedintheirsockets.Shewasgraspingatstraws.“He
kissedyou,Frankie.”
“Hetricked
me!”
“Youdon’tevenreallyknowAngelo,vitamia.”
“IknowSenatorKeatonevenless.”AndwhatIdidknowofhim,Ihated.
“He’swealthy,goodlooking,andhasabrightfutureaheadofhim,”Momexplained.“Youdon’tknoweachother,butyouwill.Ididn’tknowyourfatherbeforewewed.Vitamia,whatislovewithoutalittlerisk?”
Comfort,
Ithoughtandknew,nomatterwhat,thatWolfeKeatonwouldmakeithismissiontomakemylifeveryuncomfortable.
Twohourslater,Irolledthroughtheblack,wrought-irongatesofKeaton’sestateinablackCadillacDTS.
Throughoutthedrive,Ihadbeggedtheyoung,pimplydriverinthecheapsuittotakemetothenearestpolicestation,buthepretendednottohearme.Irummagedthroughmybagformyphone,butitwasn’tthere.
“Shoot!”Isighed.
Amaninthepassenger’sseatsneered,andInoticed,forthefirsttime,thattherewasalsoasecurityguardinthevehicle.
WheremyparentslivedinLittleItaly,youcouldfindCatholicchurchesgalore,quaintrestaurants,andbusyparksoverflowingwithkidsandstudents.WolfeKeaton,however,residedontheclinicalandprestigiousBurlingStreet.Hiswasastarkwhite,hulkingmansion,which,evenamongotherhugehouses,lookedcomicallybig.Byitssize,Iguessedthatithadrequiredthedemolitionofthepropertiesnexttoit.Runningoverotherstogethiswayseemedtobeapattern.
Manicuredlawnsandelaborativemedieval-styledwindowsgreetedme,ivyandfernscrawlingthroughthecolossalstructurelikeawoman’spossessivefingersoveraman’sbody.
WolfeKeatonmighthavebeenasenator,buthismoneydidnot
comefrompolitics.
Afterwerolledpasttheentrance,twoservantsopenedthetrunkandpulledoutmynumeroussuitcases.AwomanwholookedlikeanolderandscrawnierversionofClaraappearedatthedoorinastern,all-blackdressandpinnedsilverdo.
Sheraisedherchin,scanningmewithasneer.
“MissRossi?”
Igotoutofthecar,huggingmybagtomychest.Thejerkwasn’tevenpresenttowelcomeme.
Shestrolledtowardme,herspineramrodstraightandherhandslinkedbehindherbackasshetossedanopenpalminmydirection.
“I’mMs.Sterling.”
Istaredatherhandwithouttakingit.ShewashelpingWolfeKeatonwithkidnappingandforcingmeintomarriage.ThefactthatIwasn’tclubbingherwithmyLouboutinbagstretchedmyextentofcivility.
“Letmeshowyoutoyourwing.”
“Mywing?”Ifollowedheronautopilot,tellingmyself—no,promising
myself—thatthiswasalltemporary.Ijustneededtogathermywitsandformulateaplan.Thiswasthetwenty-firstcentury.Iwouldbenexttoacellphoneandalaptopandapolicestationsoonenough,andthisnightmarewouldbeoverbeforeitcouldevenbegin.
Andthenwhat?You’lldefyyourfatherandriskdeath?
“Yes,dear,wing.Iwaspleasantlysurprisedbyhowold-fashionedMr.Keatonwasinregardstohisnewbride.Nosharingabedbeforemarriage.”Aghostofasmilepassedherlips.Shewasobviouslyafanoftheidea.Thatmadethetwoofus.I’dratherscratchmyowneyeballsoutthanshareabedwiththedevil.
Themarbledwhitelandingpresentedtwoseparatestairwaysleadingleftandright.Theportrait-adornedmint-greenwallsofformerpresidents,high,elaborateceilings,fireplaces,andlavishcourtyardspeekingthroughthetallwindowsallblurredtogether.
IgaspedwhenwepassedbyopendoubledoorswithaconstructedSteinwaypianosurroundedbyfloor-to-ceilingbookshelvesandwhatlookedlikethousandsofbooks.Theentireroomwasaccentedincreamandblack.
“Youseemyoung.”
“That’sanobservation,notaquestion…yourpoint?”Isaidunkindly.
“Iwasundertheimpressionhelikedhisfemalecompanionolder.”
“Perhapsheshouldstartbylikinghisfemalecompanionwilling.”
Jesus.Iactuallysaidthat.Islappedahandovermymouth.
“SenatorKeatonneverhadanissueattractingwomen.Quitethecontrary,”Ms.Sterlingblabbedaswemadeourwaytotheeasternsideofthehouse.“Toomanywomenandtoomuchvarietymadehimjaded.Iwasbeginningtoworry.”Sheshookherhead,areminiscingsmileonherthinlips.
Soontopofeverythingelse,hewasaplayboy.Icringed.Angelo,forallhislifeexperienceandruthlessupbringing,wasatruegentleman.Notavirginalone—Iknew—butnotaskirtchaser,either.
“Then,perhaps,IshouldbetheoneworriednowsinceI’mexpectedtoshareabedwithhim,”Ibitout.I’dapparentlycheckedmymannersatthedoor,alongwithmyfreedom.
Whenwegottomyroom,Ididn’tstoptoappreciatethecanopyfour-posterbed,richvelvetpurplecurtains,vastwalk-incloset,largevanity,oreventhecarvedoakdeskandleatherchairoverlookingthegarden.Itwaspushedagainstthewindow,andIhadnodoubttheviewwasmesmerizing.ButIdidn’tcareforthebestviewinChicago.Iwantedtobebackinmychildhoodhome,dreamingofmyweddingtoAngelo.
“Makeyourselfcomfortable.Mr.KeatonhadtoflyouttoSpringfield.He’sonhiswayhomenow.”Shesmoothedthehemofherdress.SohewasaUSsenator.AndIdidn’thavetoask—Iknewhehadpurchasedaprivatejetpriortohispoliticalgig.IknewtheMembers’RepresentationalAllowancebyheartbecausemyfathertalkedaboutrulesoften.Hesaidthatinordertobreakthem,youhadtoknowthembyheart,too.Fatherhadpaidoffalotofpoliticalfiguresinhislifetime.
Forsomereason,hishavingaprivatejetmademeevenmorebitter.Goingtoworkaloneleftacarbonfootprintthatwouldrequireplantingamedium-sizedforesttorectify.Whatkindofworlddidhewanttoleaveforhischildrenandgrandchildrenwhen,atamoment’snotice,hewasonajetheadedtoSpringfieldorDC?
ItoccurredtomethatIhadn’ttriedtolureherintohelpingme.Infact,shemightnotevenknowIwasintrouble.Icaughthercold,fragilehandinmineandpulledherbackasshemadeherwaytothedoor.
“Please,”Iurged.“Iknowitsoundscrazy,butyourbossjustboughtmefrommyparents.Ineedtogetoutofhere.”
Shestaredatmeandblinked.
“Oh,dear,IthinkIforgottoturnofftheoven.”Sherushedoutside,thedoorclosingbehindher.
Iranafterher,yankingatthedoorhandle.Shelocked
mein.Shoot!
Ipacedbackandforth,thengrabbedthecurtainandtoreitfromitsrails.Ididn’tknowwhyIdidit.Iwantedtoruinsomethinginhishousethewayhe
ruinedme
.Iflungmyselfoverthebed,ascreamtearingatmylungs.
Icriedmyselftosleepthatday.Inmydream,IimaginedAngelodroppinginforavisitatmyparents’,findingoutwhathappenedwithWolfe,andthenlookingformeallovertown.Inmydream,hedrovehere,unabletobearthethoughtofmebeingwithanotherman,andconfrontedWolfe.Inmydream,hetookmeaway,somewherefarandtropic.Somewheresafe.ThiswasthepartwhereIknewitwasafantasy—ifmyfathercouldn’tstopWolfe,nomancould.
WhenIstirredawake,thelastraysofthesunlazilyfilteredthroughthetall,barewindows.Mythroatfeltgroggyanddry,andmyeyesweresopuffyIcouldn’tevenopenthemalltheway.Iwouldkillforaglassofwater,butIwoulddiebeforeaskingforone.
Thebedwasdippedtooneside.WhenIcrackedmyeyesopen,Ifoundoutwhy.
Wolfewassittingontheedgeofthequeen-sizemattress.Hestaredatmewithhispiercinggazeandseemedtoburnpastskinandbonesandhearts,turningthemalltoash.
Inarrowedmyeyes,thenopenedmymouthtogivehimapieceofmymind.
“Beforeyousayanything,”hewarned,pushingthesleevesofhiscrispwhiteshirtuphiselbowstoexposeveiny,muscular,andtanforearms,“Ibelieveanapologyisinorder.”
“Youthinkanapologyisgoingtofixthis?”Isnappedacidly,tuggingattheblankettocovermoreofmybodyeventhoughIwasfullydressed.
Hesmirked,andIrealizedhelikedourexchangesverymuch.
“It’dbeanicestart.YousaidIwasnotbeingagentleman,andIbegtodiffer.Ihonoredyourtraditionanddemandedyourhandafterkissingyou.”
Unbelievable.
NowIwasfullyawake,mybackpressingagainsttheheadboard.
“Youwantme
toapologizetoyou
?”
Hesmoothedthesoftfabricofthepressedlinen,takinghistimetoanswerme.
“Shameyourparentsaresetintheirwishtokeepyouanobedientlittlehousewife.Youhaveanatural,fastgriponthings.”
“You’reafoolifyouthinkI’mjustgoingtoacceptyouasahusband.”Ifoldedmyarmsovermychest.
Wolfeconsideredmywordsgravely,hisfingerstravelingnearmyanklebutnotquitetouchingit.I’dkickhimifIdidn’tthinkhe’denjoymyangerevenmore.
“Thenotionthatyoucantouchmeorwhat’smineinanyway,otherthansuckingmycockwheneverI’mgenerousenoughtoallowit,amusesme.Whydon’twegettoknoweachotheroverdinnertonightbeforeyoumakeanymoredeclarationsyoucan’tbackup?Therearesomehouserulesyouneedtoobey.”
Lord,Iwantedtohurthimsobadlyitburnedatmyfingertips.
“Why?BecauseI’drathereatrottenfruitanddrinksewerwaterthanhaveamealwithyou,”Isnarled.
“Verywell.”Heproducedsomethingfrombehindhisback.Asimplewhitecalendar.Hereachedoverandplaceditonthenightstandnexttome.Itwasanicetouch,aftergivingmethewatchthatfeltmorelikeashacklethanagift.
Whenhespoke,helookedatthecalendar,notme.
“Ittakestwenty-onedaystoformahabit.Irecommendyoumakemeapatternofsorts.BecausecomeAugusttwenty-second,”heannounced,risingupfromthebed,“youwillbestandingatthealtar,promisingmetherestofyourdays.ApromiseIintendtotakeseriously.You’reacollecteddebt,aretaliation,and,quitefrankly,prettydecentarmcandy.Goodnight,MissRossi.”Heturnedaroundandsaunteredtowardthedoor,kickingasidethecurtainonhiswayout.
Ashorthourlater,Ms.Sterlingarrivedwithasilvertraycontainingsquashed,rotten-lookingfruit,andaglassofwaterthatwasfreakishlygray.Shestaredatmewithcrushingmiserythatmadeheralreadywrinkledfaceappearevenolder.
Therewasanapologyinthoseeyes.
Ididn’tacceptitorthefood.FUCK
Shit.
Cocksucker.
Asshole.
Clusterfuck.
Nutsackdouchebagbuttfuck.
ThosewerejustsomeofthewordsIcouldnolongerallowmyselftoutter,inpublicorotherwise,asasenatorrepresentingthestateofIllinois.Servingmystate—mycountry
—wasmyonlyrealpassion.Theproblemwas,myrealupbringingwasquitedifferentfromtheoneportrayedinthemedia.Inmymind,Icussed.Alot.
AndIespeciallywantedtoswearrightnowwhenmybridehadexasperatedmetonoend.
Eyesthecolorofcrushedwildflowersandglossy,chestnuttressessosofttheywerepracticallybeggingforafisttowraparoundthemandpull.
Chicago’selitefelltotheirkneesatFrancescaRossi’sbeautyfromthemomentshesetfootinChicagoayearago,andforonceintheirmiserablelives,thehypetheycreatedwasn’tcompletelyunwarranted.
Unfortunatelyforme,mybride-to-bewasalsoaspoiled,na?ve,overpamperedkidwithanegothesizeofConnecticutandzerodesiretodoanythingthatdidnotincludehorsebackriding,sulking,and—thisone’sawild,albeiteducated,guess—poppingoutfair-eyed,just-as-entitledkids.
Fortunatelyforher
,mybride-to-bewasgoingtogetexactlythekindofcushionedlifeshe’dbeendesignedtoleadbyherparents.Rightafterthewedding,Iintendedtoshoveherintoaglitzymansionontheothersideoftown,padherwalletwithcreditcardsandcash,andcheckinonheronlywhenI’dneedhertoattendapublicfunctionwithmeorwhenIneededtotugonherfather’sleash.Offspringwereoutofthequestion,although,dependingonherlevelofcooperation,which,rightnow,couldusemuchimprovement,shewaswelcometohavesomethroughaspermdonor.
Notme.
SterlingreportedbackthatFrancescahadn’ttouchedherdirtywaterandcrushedfruitandmadenomovetoeatthebreakfastthathadbeenusheredtoherroomthismorning.Iwasn’tworried.Theteenybopperwouldeatwhenherdiscomfortturnedintopain.
IleanedagainsttheTheodoreAlexanderexecutivedeskinmystudy,handsshoveddeepinsidemypockets,andwatchedasGovernorBishopandthepolicecommissionerofChicago’sPoliceDepartment,FelixWhite,verballysparredfortwentymind-numbingminutes.
TheweekendI’dfoundmyselfengagedtoFrancescaRossionawhimalsomarkedthebloodiestweekendonthestreetsofChicagosincethemid-eighties.Anotherreasonmymarriagewasessentialforthesurvivalofthiscity.BishopandveterancopWhitebothcircledaroundthefactthatArthurRossiwastoblame,directlyandindirectly,foreachofthetwenty-threemurdersbetweenFridayandSunday.Thoughneitherofthemsaidhisname.
“Apennyforyourthoughts,Senator.”Whitesatbackinhisleatherchair,tossingapennybetweenhisthumbandindextowardme.Iletitdroponthefloor,mygazefixedonhim.
“Funnyyoushouldmentionmoney.That’sexactlywhatyouneedtofighttherisingcrimerate.”
“Meaning?”
“ArthurRossi.”
BishopandWhiteswappeduneasyexpressions,theirfacesturninganiceshadeofgray.Ireleasedachuckle.I’dtakecareofArthurmyself,butIneededtodoitgradually.I’djusttakenhismostprizedpossession.Easinghimintothenewsituationwasessentialinordertocrushhiminthelongrun.
ThedecisiontomarryFrancescaRossi—unlikethetakedownofherfather,whichI’dplannedsinceagethirteen—wasspontaneous.First,sheshowedupasNemesis,anironictwistthatputagrinonmyface.ThenInoticedthetwinkleinArthur’seyesashefollowedheratthemasquerade.Helookedproudandwatchinghimhappygratedonmynerves.ShewasobviouslyhisAchilles’heelThenshecausedastir.Herbeautyandgoodmannershadn’tgoneunnoticed.IthereforededucedthatFrancescawouldbeusefulbothforhangingourmarriageoverArthur’sheadasanongoingthreatandasawaytocleanupmyLotharioreputation.
Bonuspoints:sheandIweregoingtobethesoleinheritorsoftheRossiEmpire.Rossiwouldpracticallysignoverhisbusinesstomewhetherhewantedtoornot.
“Sinsofthefathershallnotbevisiteduponhischildren.”Arthur’slipstrembledwhenIshowedupathishousethemorningafterthemasquerade.I’dtextedhimthatsamenightasmydateunzippedmydresspantsinthelimo,gettingreadytosuckmycock.IadvisedArthurtoriseearly.Now,hewassopale,Ithoughthewasgoingtohaveheartfailure.Wishfulthinkingonmypart.Bastardwasstillonbothfeet,staringrightbackatme,hisgazeaskingmeforasolid.
“ParaphrasingfromtheBible,arewe?”Iofferedaprovocativeyawn.“Prettysuretherewereafewcommandmentswrittenthereyouhavebrokenonceorathousandtimes.”
“Leaveheroutofthis,Keaton.”
“Begforher,Arthur.Onyourknees.Iwanttoseeyoustrippedofyourprideanddignityoveryoursilver-spooneddaughterwhohasneverknownhardship.Theappleofyoureye,thebelleofeveryballinChicago,and,quitefrankly,therunner-uptobemylawfulwife.”
HeknewexactlywhatIwasasking—andwhyIwasaskingit.
“Sheisnineteen;youarethirty.”Hetriedtoreasonwithme.Bigmistake.Onceuponatime,whenItriedtoreasonwithhim,itdidn’twork.Atall.
“Stilllegal.Awholesome,well-manneredbeautyonmyarmisexactlywhatthedoctororderedtocleanupmyratherdirtyreputation.”
“She’snoarmcandy,andunlessyouwantyourfirsttermassenatortobeyourlast…”Heballedhisfistssotight,Iknewthey’ddrawbloodfromhispalms.Icuthimoffmidsentence.
“Youwilldonothingtoharmmycareer,seeingaswebothknowwhatIhaveonyou.Onyourknees,Arthur.Ifyou’reconvincingenough,Imightletyoukeepher.”
“Nameyourprice.”
“Yourdaughter.Nextquestion.”
“Threemilliondollars.”Theticofhisjawmatchedtherhythmofhispulsingheart.
“Oh,Arthur.”Icockedmyhead,chuckling.
“Five.”Hislipsthinned,andIcouldpracticallyhearhisteethgrindingagainstoneanother.Hewasapowerfulman—toopowerfultoyield—andforthefirsttimeinhislife,hehadto.BecausewhatIhadonhimcouldjeopardizenotonlytheentireOutfit,butalsohispreciouswifeanddaughter,who’dbeleftpennilessonceIthrewhimintheslammerfortherestofhisdays.
Irolledmyeyes.“Ithoughtlovewaspriceless.HowaboutyougivemewhatIreallywant,Rossi?Yourpride.”
Slowly,themaninfrontofme—thesmugmoblordwhomIhatedwithferociouspassion—loweredhimselftohisknees,hisfaceacoolmaskofhatred.Hiswifeandourrespectiveattorneyslookeddownattheirfeet,theirdeafeningsilenceringingintheair.
Hewasbeneathmenow,humbleandlostandundignified.
Throughgrittedteeth,hesaid.“Iambeggingyoutosparemydaughter.Goaftermeinanywayyouwant.Dragmethroughcourt.Stripmeofmyproperties.Youwantwar?Iwillfightyoucleanandhonorably.ButdonottouchFrancesca.”
Irolledmymintguminsidemymouth,resistingtheurgetolockmyjaw.IcouldunleashthesecretI’dbeenholdingoverhisheadandgetitoverwith,buttheanguishRossihadputmethroughstretchedjustlikethethinginmymouth.Agumthatdraggedachinglyslowacrosstheyears.Aneyeforaneyeandallthatbullshit.No?
“Requestdenied.Signthepapers,Rossi,”IpushedtheNDAinhisdirection.“I’mtakingthebratwithme.”
Backinthepresent,BishopandWhitehadsomehowmanagedtoraisetheirvoicestoheightsthatwoulddeafenwhales,bickeringliketwoschoolgirlswhoshowedupatpromwearingthesameForever21dress.
“…shouldhavebeenalertedmonthsago!”
“IfIhadmorestafftoworkwith
…”
“Shutup,bothofyou.”Icuttheirstreamofwordswithasnapofmyfingers.“Weneedmorepolicepresenceintheareaspronetotrouble,endofstory.”
“Andwithwhatbudget,praytell,shouldIfundyoursuggestion?”Felixrubbedhiswobblychin,sleekwithsweat.Hisfacewasscarred,theresultofbadacne,andthetopofhisheadwasshiny,hisgrayinghairpepperedaroundthetemples.
Ipinnedhimwithalookthatwipedthesmugoffhisface.Hehadsomeextracashlyingaround,andwebothknewwhereitcamefrom.
“Youhaveextras,”Ishotdryly.
“Brilliant.”PrestonBishopflunghimselfbackontheheadrest.“CaptainEthic’sheretosavetheday.”
“I’dsettleforruiningyours.Whichremindsme—you
haveextras,too,”Ideadpanned,justasthedoortothestudyflewopen.
Kristen,mymasqueradedate,world-classBJgiver,andaroyalpainintheass,stormedin,hereyesaswildasherhair.SinceIcarefullychosemyfemalecompanionswithzeroflairfordramatics,Iknewshewasprivytowhatthegentlemenintheroomhadn’tfoundoutyet.Nothingelsewouldgethersoworkedup,andshedid,afterall,workinfindingoutimportantinformation.
“Really,Wolfe?”Shewipedblondstrandsofhairfromherforehead,hereyesdancingintheirsockets.HershabbyappearanceexplainedwhySterlingcamerushingthroughthedoorbehindher,mutteringredundantapologies.Ishooedmyhousekeeperaway,focusingonKristen.
“Let’stakethisoutsidebeforeyouburstanarteryonmymarblefloors,”Isuggestedcordially.
“Don’tbesosureI’llbetheonesheddingbloodinthisexchange,”shesaid,wigglingherfingeratme.Poorform.ThatwasthethingaboutgirlswhocametothebigcityfromasmallKansastownandbecamesuccessfulcareerwomen.ThatgirlfromKansas?She’dalwaysliveinsideher.
Myofficewasonthewestwingofmymansion,nexttomybedroomandahandfulofguestrooms.IledKristenintomybedroom,leavingthedooropenontheoff-chanceshewasinthemoodformorethantalking.Shepaced,handsparkedonherhips.Myking-sizebedstoodoutasareminderoftheplaceIneverhadherin.Iquitelikedfuckingwomenincompromisingpositions.SharingabedwithsomeoneelsewasnotanideaI’deverentertainedseriously.I’dlearnedpeoplecomeandgooutofyourlifefrequentlyandwithoutnotice.Solitudewasmorethanalifechoice.Itwasavirtue.Avowofsorts.
“Youscrewmethenightofthemasqueradeandthengetengagedthenextday?Areyoufuckingkiddingme?”Kristenfinallyburst,thewordsgushingfromhermouthasshepushedmychest,givingitherall.ShedidabetterjobthanFrancesca,butherwrathstillleftmeunimpressed—andmoreimportantly,unmoved.
Ishotherapitifulstare.SheknewaswellasIdidthatwewereaboutasfarfrommonogamyashumanlypossible.Ipromisedhernothing.Notevenorgasms.Theyrequiredminorworkonmypartand,therefore,wereaterriblewasteofmytime.
“Yourpoint,MissRhys?”Iasked.
“Whyher?”
“Whynot?”
“She’snineteen!”Kristenroaredagain,kickingthelegofmybed.Herwincetoldmeshe’djustfoundoutthat,likemyconviction,itwasmadeofsteel.Ihadquitethetasteforexpensive,unlikelyfurniture,somethingshe’dknowifshe’deverbeeninvitedtomyhouse.
“MayIaskhowyoubecameprivytomypersonalbusiness?”Iwipedatthespecklesofsalivashe’dleftonmydressshirt.Humans,asaconcept,werenotamongmytenfavoritethingsintheworld.Hystericalwomenwerenoteveninthetopthousand.Kristenwasbeinghighlyemotional,consideringthecircumstances.Shewasthereforealiabilityinmywaytothepresidencyandservingmycountry.
“Myagencyretrievedimagesofyouryoungbridemovingintoyourmansion,completewithpicturesofherwatchinglikeaprincessasyourstaffcarriedhermany,manybags.I’mguessingshe’sasoon-to-betrophywife.Speaksfivelanguages,lookslikeanangel,andprobablyfuckslikeasiren.”Kristencontinuedpacing,pushingthesleevesofhersmartsuitupherelbows.
Francesca,despitehermanyshortcomings,wasnotunpleasantontheeye.Andsheprobablydid
haveextensivesexualexperience,consideringherverystrictdaddyhadbeenacontinentawayformostofheryouth,leavinghertoherfrivolousways.Whichremindedme,IneededtoarrangeforhertogetdrugtestedandcheckedforSTDs.Slipupswerenotanoption,andpublicdisgracewouldearnheraspotonmyshitlist,aplaceherfathercouldconfirmwaslessthanpicturesque.
“Areyouheretoaskquestionsandanswerthemyourself?”Ishovedhershoulderlightly,andshefelltoanupholsteredcreamseatbelowme.Shegrowled,dartingbackup.Somuchfortryingtocalmherdown.
“I’mheretotellyouthatIwantanexclusiveBishoppiece,orIwilltelleveryonewhoiswillingtolistenthatyournewblushingextremely
youngbrideisalsothedaughterofthenumber-onemobsterinChicago.I’dhateforittobetomorrow’sleadingheadline,but—asyoumustagree—gossipsellscopies,right?”
Irubbedmychin.
“Dowhatyougottado,MissRhys.”
“Areyouserious?”
“Asseriousassomeonecanbewithoutfilingarestrainingorderagainstyouforattemptingtoblackmailamemberofthesenate.Letmeshowyoutothedoor.”
Ihadtogivehersomecredit—Kristenwasn’theretogrievetheuntimelydeathofourfling.Shewasallbusiness.ShewantedmetocompromisethegovernorinordertosavemyownassandgiveherascoopthatwouldlikelygetheranofferfromCNN—orTMZ—thenextday.UnfortunatelyforKristen,Iwasn’tmuchofadiplomat.Ididnotnegotiatewithterrorists—orworse,journalists.Infact,Iwouldnotevennegotiatewiththepresidenthimself.FrancescahadpointedoutatthemasqueradethatNemesishadslayedNarcissus,teachinghimalessonaboutarrogance.Shewasabouttofindoutthatnoonestompedonherhusband-to-be’spride.
Theirony,ofcourse,wasthatFrancesca’sfatherwastheverypersontoteachmethatlesson.
“Huh?”Kristenhuffed.
“Telltheworld.I’lljustspinitasI’msavingmyfiancéefromthebig,badwolf.”
I
wasthebig,badwolf,butonlyFrancescaandIneededtoknowthat.
“Youdidn’tevenlikeeachotheratthemasquerade.”Kristenthrewherarmsintheair,tryinganothertactic.Icarefullyplacedmyfingersonthesmallofherbackandledhertothedoorway.
“Affectionhasnothingtodowithagoodmarriage.We’redonehere.”
AsIroundedthecornertotheentrance,Icaughtaglimpseofbrowncurlstossinginthehallway.Francescahadbeenroaming,andshemostlikelyheardtheconversation.Iwasn’tworried.AsIsaidbefore—shewasasharmlessasadeclawedkitten.WhetherI’dmakeherpurrornotwasentirelyuptoher.Iwasn’tespeciallykeenonheraffectionandhadotherplacestofinditin.
“So,justtobeclear,thisisover?”KristenstumblednexttomeasIledherdownstairsandoutofmypremises
“Sharpasafuckingspoon,”Imuttered.Iwasn’tagainsttakingmistresses,butIcouldnolongerriskahigh-profileaffair.AndasKristenwasahungryjournalist,everythingaboutherscreamedscandal.
“Youknow,Wolfe,youthinkyou’resountouchablebecauseyouhadaluckystreak.I’vebeeninthisbusinesslongenoughtoknowyou’retooconceitedtogetmuchfurtherthanyouaretoday.You’rearealpieceofwork,andyouthinkyoucangetawaywithevenmore.”Shestoppedinfrontofthedoortomyhouse.Webothknewthiswasherlastvisithere.
Ismirked,shooingherawaywithmyhand.
“Writethepiece,sweetheart.”
“Thisisbadpublicity,Keaton.”
“AgoodCatholicsummerweddingoftwoyoung,high-profilepeople?I’lltakemychances.”
“You’renotthatyoung.”
“You’renotthatsmart,Kristen.Goodbye.”
AfterIgotridofMissRhys,IwentbacktomystudytodismissBishopandWhite,beforeImademywaytotheeastwingtocheckonFrancesca.
Earlierthismorning,hermothershowedupatthegateholdingsomeofherdaughter’spossessions,screamingshewouldn’tleaveuntilshesawherdaughterwasokay.AlthoughItoldFrancescathatwhatevershedidn’thavetimetopackwouldbeleftbehind,pacifyingherparentstrumpedteachingheravaluablelessonaboutlife.Hermotherwasblamelessinthesituation.SowasFrancescaherself.
Ipushedmybride’sbedroomdooropenandfoundthatshehadnotreturnedfromherwanderings.Stuffingmyfistsinmycigarpants’pockets,Isaunteredacrossherroomtolookoutherwindow.Ifoundherinthegarden,crouchinginayellowsummerdress,mutteringtoherselfasshestabbedatrowelintoaflowerpot,hersmallhandsswimminginsideapairofoversized,greengardeninggloves.Icrackedthewindowopen,half-interestedinthenonsenseshewasspewing.Hervoiceseepedthroughthecrackofthewindow.Herramblingswerethroatyandfeminine,notatallhystericalandteenager-yasI’dexpectedsomeoneinhersituationtobe.
“Whodoeshethinkheis?Hewillpayforthis.I’mnotapawn.I’mnottheidiothethinksIam.I’llstarveuntilIbreakhimordietrying.Wouldn’tthatbeafunheadlinetotrytoexplain,”shehuffed,shakingherhead.“Butwhat’shegonnado—force-feedme?Iwill
getoutofhere.Oh,P.S.SenatorKeaton—you’renoteventhatgoodlooking.Justtall.Angelo?Nowhe’sagorgeousspecimen,insideandout.Hewillforgivemeforthatsillykiss.Ofcourse,hewill.I’mgoingtomakehim…”
Iclosedthewindow.Shewasgoingonahungerstrike.Good.Herfirstlessonwouldbeaboutmyapathy.TheblabbingaboutBandinididnotconcernme,either.Puppylovecouldneverthreatenawolf.Imademywaybacktoherdoorwhenacarvedwoodenboxsittingonhernightstandcaughtmyattention.Iambledovertoit,theechoofherwordsfromthemasqueradebouncinginmyhead.Theboxwaslocked,butIinstinctivelyknewshe’dtakenoutanothernote,desperatetochangeherfate.Iflippedherpillowsonawhimandfoundthenoteunderneaththem.Mybeautiful,predictable,stupid
bride.
Iunfoldedit.
Thenextmantofeedyouchocolatewillbetheloveofyourlife.
Ifeltthesneercarvingonmyfaceandwondered,briefly,whenwasthelasttimeIsmiled.ItwasaboutsomethingsillyFrancescahadbrieflytoldmeonthelandingatherhousebeforeIbentherfather’sarmintogivinghertome.
“Sterling!”Ibarkedfrommyspotbymybride’sbed.Theoldmaidrushedintotheroom,thefranticwanderingofhererraticpupilstellingmesheexpectedtheworst.
“SendFrancescathebiggestGodivachocolatebasketavailablewithanotefromme.Leaveitblank.”
“That’sawonderfulidea,”shesquealed,slappingherknees.“Shehasn’teateninalmosttwenty-fourhours,soIwilldothatrightaway.”ShedasheddownstairstothekitchenwhereshekeptaYellowPages
biggerthanherframe.
Ipushedthenotebackintoplace,rearrangingthepillowsinthesame,messyheapI’dfoundthem.
IcaredmoreaboutfuckingwithFrancescaRossi’sheadthanIdidherbody
Nowthatwasmyideaofforeplay.TWODAYSOFNOTHINGNESSTICKED
by,soakinglikebloodonthewallsofmyroom.
Irefusedtocommunicatewithanyone.Eventhein-desperate-need-for-lovegardenwasleftunattended,includingtheplantsandvegetablesI’dpottedafterMamapaidmeavisitthedayafterWolfetookme.Shesnuckseedsofbegoniasinthewoodenbox.“Themostresilientflowers,Francesca.Justlikeyou.”
ThenMs.Sterlingcaughtupwithmyhobbyandbroughtmesomeradishes,carrot,andcherrytomatoseeds,tryingtoliftmymoodandperhapsencouragemetoexpendsomeenergyandconsumesomethingmorethantapwater.
Sleepwasshort,tormented,andinterruptedwithanightmare:amonsterprowlingintheshadowsbehindmybedroomdoor,baringhisteethinawolfishgrineverytimeIlookeditsway.Themonster’seyesweremesmerizing,buthissmilewasfrightening.AndwhenItriedtowakeup,tounchainmyselffromthedream,mybodywasparalyzedtothemattress.
ThereweretwothingsIwanteddesperately—forWolfetounderstandwecouldn’tgetmarriedandforAngelotorealizethatthekisswasamisunderstanding.
Ms.Sterlingbroughtfood,water,andcoffeetomybedeveryfewhours,leavingsilvertraysfilledwithgoodnessonmynightstand.Idrankthewatertokeepmyselffromfainting,buttherestremaineduntouched.
Iespeciallyignoredthehugebasketofchocolatemyfuturehusbandhadsenttome.Itsatinthecorneroftheroomonthefancydesk,collectingdust.EventhoughthelowsugarinmybloodmadewhitedotsexplodeinmyvisioneverytimeImadeasuddenmove,Istillsomehowknewthattheexpensivechocolatewouldtasteofmyownsurrender.Aflavorsobitter,nosugarcouldsweetenit.
Thentherewerethenotes.Thecursed,exasperatingnotes.
I’dopenedtwooutofthethree,andbothpointedatWolfeastheloveofmylife.
Itriedtotellmyselfthatitwasclearlycoincidental.Keatonmighthavehadachangeofheart.Perhapshedecidedtowormhiswayintomygoodgraceswithgifts.Thoughsomethingtoldmethatmanhadnottakenoneuncalculatedstepinhislifefromthemomenthetookhisfirstbreath.
Wolfedemandedmypresenceatdinnereveryday.Neverinperson,though,butthroughMs.Sterling.Icontinuouslyrefused.Whenhesentoneofhisbodyguardsforme,IlockedmyselfinthebathroomandrefusedtocomeoutuntilMs.Sterlingphysicallykickedtheburlymanaway.WhenWolfestoppedsendingfood—somethingthatmadeMs.Sterlingraisehervoicetopiercinglevelsinthekitcheneventhoughhedidn’tbudge—IlaughedmaniacallybecauseIwasn’teatinganyway.Finally,onthethirdday,Keatongracedmewithhisregalpresence,standingatmydoorwaywithhiseyesnarrowedtoslitsofcoldmenace.
WolfelookedtallerandgrufferthanIremembered.Cladinasharpbrightnavysuit,hewasarmedwithasardonicsmirkthatshowednotraceofhappiness.Lightamusementdancedacrosshisotherwisedarkeyes.Couldn’tblamehim.Iwasstarvingtodeathhere,tryingtoproveapointhecouldn’tcarelessabout.ButIhadnochoice.Ididn’thavemycellphone,andthoughMamahadcalledthelandlineeachdaytomakesureIwasokay,IknewbytheshallowandevenbreathsinmyearthatMs.Sterlingwaslisteningtoourconversations.Eventhoughshecaredaboutmyphysicalwell-being,myguesswasshewasstillTeamWolfealltheway.
Thepleas,theplans,andthepromisestobegood—tobethegreatestdaughterinChicago—ifmyparentsdemandedIreturnsatonthetipofmytongue.IwantedtoaskaboutAngeloandifDadwasdoinganythingtotrytogetmeback,butallIdidwasanswerherworriedquestionswithyesandno.
IpretendedtosmooththefabricofmyblanketovermeandstareatmylegsasIignoredhim.
“Nemesis,”hedrawledwithlazycynicismthatsomehow—somehow
—stillmanagedtostabsomewheredeepinsideme.“Caretowrapyourbonesinsomethingalittlemoredignifiedthanpajamas?We’regoingouttonight.”
“You
aregoingouttonight.Unlessyou’retakingmebacktomyparents’,I’mstayinghere,”Icorrected.
“Whateverpossessesyoutothinkthisoutingisoptional?”Hebracedthetopofthedoorframewithhisarms,hisdressshirtridingupandrevealingmuscularabs,dustedwithdarkhair.
Hewassuchaman,andthatthrewmeoff.Iwasstillinthattatteredseambetweenawomanandateenager,neitherherenorthere.Ihatedalltheleveragehehadonme.
“I’llrunaway,”Ithreatenedidly.WherewouldIgo?IknewmyfatherwouldsendmerightbacktoWolfe’sarms.Heknewthat,too.Thiswasmyglorifiedprison.Silkysheetsandasenatorasmyfuturehusband.Prettyliesanddevastatingtruths.
“Withwhatenergy,exactly?Youcanbarelycrawl,letalonerun.Wearthedarkgreendress.Theonewiththeslit.”
“SoIcanimpressyourpervertedoldpoliticianfriends?”Ihuffed,tossingmyhairbehindmyshoulder.
“Soyoucanimpressyourdramaticallyunderwhelmedfuturehusband.”
“Notinterested,thankyou.”
“Yourparentswillbethere.”
Thatmademeperkupinaninstant—anotherthingIhated.Hehadallthepower.Alltheinformation.Thebiggerpicture.
“Whereareyougoing?”
“PrestonBishop’ssonisgettingmarried.Apony-lookingthingwithapairofnicelegs.”Hepushedoffthedoorframeandwalkedovertothefootofmybed.
Irememberedhowhe’dreferredtoBishop’swifeas‘horsey’.Hewasconceitedandrude,arrogantandvulgarbeyondbelief,butonlyindoors.I’dseenhimatthemasquerade.Andwhilestandoffishandrudetomyfatherandme,hewasanimpeccablegentlemantoeveryoneelse.
“ItwouldbeagoodopportunitytointroduceyouasthefutureMrs.Keaton.Whichremindsme…”Heproducedsomethingfromhisfrontpocket,tossingthesquare,black,andvelvetythingacrossthelengthoftheroom.Icaughtitinmyhandsandsnappeditopen.AnengagementringwithaWinstonBluediamondthesizeofmyheadtwinkledinsideit,catchingeveryrayofsunshineslippingthroughthebarewindows.IkneweveryminuteinthishousebroughtmeclosertomarriagewithWolfeKeaton,andescapingwasn’tpossible.Theonlymantosavemefrommyfuturehusbandwas,quitefrankly,myfuturehusband.Begginghimtogivemeupwasn’tanoption.Maybemakinghimseethathedidn’twanttomarrymewasatacticIneededtoexplore.
“Whenareweleaving?”Iasked.The“you”turnedintoa“we,”buthestilldidn’tlookpleased.
Iwillembarrassyoubeyondbelief.
“Coupleofhours.Itismyunderstandingthatyou’reusedtobeingpamperedandcateredto,soSterlingwillgetyouready.”
Youwillregretthedayyourfilthyeyesmetmineacrossthetable.
“Takethatback,”Isaid.
“Excuseyou?”
“Takethatdigback.StopholdingmyupbringingandthewayI’vebeenbroughtupagainstme,”Idemanded.
Hesmirked,thenturnedtoleave.
“I’mnotgoing.”Itossedtheengagementringacrosstheroom.Thoughhecouldhavecaughtitinhishand,hechosenotto,lettingitdroponthefloor.Fightingforsomething—leastofallforme—wasbeneathhim.
“Youareunlessyouwantyourphoneprivilegestaken.Thelandlinecouldbecutoff.Nottomention,I’dhatetobeforcedtopierceyourprettyveinstohookyouuptoafeedingtube,”hesaid,driftingoutoftheroombeforepausingatthedoor.Hisbackwasstilltomewhenitbegantovibratewithsoftlaughter.
“Youwillalsohaveyourengagementringonatalltimes.”
“Orwhat?”Ichallenged,myvoiceshaking.
“OrI’mtakingyoutoelopeinVegas,settingoffachainreactionofpregnancyrumorsthatwillnotdoyourfamilyanygood.”
Isuckedinabreath,realizingforthefirsttimewhatwewere.
AstoryofaNemesisandaVillainwithnochanceatahappyending.
Wheretheprincedoesn’tsavetheprincess.
Hetorturesher.
Andthebeautydoesn’tsleep.
She’sstuck.
Inanightmare.
Threehourslater,wewalkedthroughthedoorsofaballroomsituatedattheMadison,oneoftheglitziesthotelsinChicago.Withacoolwind,thetwinklingbuildingsoftheMagnificentMileandtheredMichiganAvenueBridgeremindedmethatIwasstillinmyfavoritecity,breathinghopeintomybody.
Iworeanoff-the-shoulderblueArmanigownthathighlightedmyeyesandhadmyhairtwistedinaDutchbraid.
Ms.Sterlingpracticallysqueakedwhenshedidmyhairandmakeup,remindingmejusthowmuchImissedClara.Homewasjustacrosstown,butitfeltlikeoceansaway.ThingsIlovedandlivedfor—myparents,mygarden,horsebackriding—wereuntouchable.Adistantmemorythatgrewaninchfartherawayeverysecondoftheday.
Withhisdazzlingall-blacksuit,myfiancéputapossessivehandonthesmallofmybackandledmethroughtheentranceofthereceptionarea.Crystalchandeliersandcurvedstairwaysgreetedus.Theroomwashuedmilkandhoney,themarbleflooracheckedblackandwhite.Wehadn’tbeeninvitedtotheceremonyattheBishop’slocalchurchandspentthedrivehereinasilencethatshreddedmynerves.SenatorKeatonhardlysharedthesentiment.Infact,heansweredemailsonhisphone,barkedorderstohisyoungdriver,Smithy,andpretendedIwasn’tthere.
Theonlyattentionhedidgivemewaswhenhenoted,“That’snotthedressItoldyoutowear.”
“WouldyoubesurprisedtohearIhaveamindofmyown?”IstaredoutmywindowasthevehicleslowedthroughChicago’sdowntowntraffic.“Afterall,I’mnothingbutashelteredteenager.”
“Andadisobedientone,too,”hesaid.
“Aterriblebride,”Iconcluded.
“Icantameadozenofyoubeforebreakfast.”
Theminutewesaunteredthroughtheglitzywidedoors,peoplebegantoswarmaroundWolfeasthoughhewasthegroomhimself.Hedrewmeclosetohimbythewaist,makingajoltofheattraveldownmybellyashesmiledandmadepoliteconversationwithhisadmirers.Hispersonalityoutsidethewallsofhishouseorhiscarwascompletelydifferent,hischarmturneduptoaneleven.Withhistwobodyguardshuddlingbehindus,heoozedwidegrinsandpoliteconversation.AfarcryfromtheformidablemanIlivedwith.
Thefirstpeopletosetusapartandcornerusintoaprivatetête-à-têtewasafifty-somethingpoliticiancouplewhocameallthewayfromDC.Wolfeintroducedmeashisfuturebride,thenchidedmewithagood-naturedsneer.“Don’tbeshy.Showthemthering.”
Istoodfrozen,myheartpushingthroughmythroatandreadytojumpoutofmymouthbeforeWolfepriedmyhandfromthesideofmybodyandshowedthemthehugeengagementband.Thewomangraspedmyhand,examinedit,thenslappedherchest.
“Oh,itissoperfect.How’dhepropose?”Shebattedhereyelashesatme,thesuspenseobviouslykillingher.ThatwasmychancetoruinallofWolfe’shardwork.Igrinned,movingmyhandslowly,lettingthediamondcatchthelightsintheroomandblindeveryoneinourvicinity.
“OnthestepsoftheArtInstitute.Mypoorfiancémadeaspectacleofhimself.Torehisdresspantsfrombehindashewentdownononeknee.Hisentirebuttwasonfulldisplay.”Isighed,notdaringtolookupathisreaction.
“Youdidnot!”Themanburstoutlaughing,clappingWolfe’sshoulder.ThewomansnortedandflashedWolfeasmileopenwithbothadmirationandlust.IchancedalookatWolfeandsawhislipsthinninginirritation.Unlikethem,hedidnotfindmystoryentertaining
Theirreactionputmeinmyelement,though,andIcouldn’twaittopullthistrickagain.Foramoment,IconsideredhemighttellthemIwaslying.Butthatwasn’tWolfe’sstyle.Itwasaneasywayout,andhelookedlikethekindofmantotakethelong,windingroadtovictory.
“Itwasworththehassle.”Hegrinneddownatme,pullingmesoclosetohim,Ithoughthisbodywasgoingtoswallowminewhole.“Besides,”hehissedonlyformetohear,hiswarm,mintybreathticklingthesideofmyneck,“ifmybrideknewmeevenalittle,she’dknowIneverkneel.”
Forawhile,allwedidwasbreakthenewsofourengagementasmoreandmorepeoplecametocongratulateus,therebyignoringthenewlyweddedcouple.BishopJuniorandhisbridedidn’tseemtocaretheattentionwasn’tdirectedatthem.Infact,theylookedsohappy,theireyestwinklingwithlove,thatIcouldn’thelpbutfeelevenmoreangrytowardWolfefordeprivingmeofbeingwithmytruelove.SenatorWolfeKeatonparadedmelikearoyalhorsearoundtheroom,showingmeoffasthoughIwasanasset.Mystomachchurnedandwhinedinhunger,andittookeverythinginmenottoswaybyhissidelikeashakingleaf.Tomakemattersworse,WolfenudgedmewhenIneededtosmile,draggedmeintohisembracewhenIdriftedaway,andvolunteeredmetoservitudeonthreedifferentcharityeventsintheupcomingmonths.
Attractivewomengiggledandslippedtheirnumbersintohishandastheycametocongratulateusonseparateoccasions,thinkingIwouldn’tnotice.Oneofthem,aUNambassador,evenremindedhimabouttheirmarveloustimeinBrusselstwoyearsagoandhintedatstayingintownforawhile.
“Weshouldgrabadrink.Catchup,”themahogany-hairedbeautysuggestedinhersyrupy-sweetFrenchaccent.HeflashedheranAngelosmile.Thekindthatrearrangedthemoleculesintheairandmadeyourheartflutter.
“I’llhavemysecretarygetintouchwithyourstomorrowmorning.”
Bastard.
Peoplepraisedourengagementandseemedtobecomfortablewithouragegap.Infact,otherthanPrestonBishophimself,whowasatourtablethenightofthemasqueradeandwitnessedtheverbalbashingWolfeKeatonhadofferedme,noonechallengedoursuddenengagement.EvenBishopsettledforaraisedeyebrow.
“Thisisapleasantsurprise,”hesaid.
“Itis,isn’tit?”Wolferetorted.“Lifeseemstobefullofthem.”
HiswordswerecasualbutheldadeepermeaningIwasn’tprivyto.
EachtimeI’dbeenintroducedtoWolfe’speers,Icameupwithadifferentstoryforourengagement.
“Heforgothiswords,thendevelopedasuddenlisp.Hehadtowritethemdown,andeventhathadafewgrammaticalerrors.Itwassoendearing.”
“Theproposalwassoromantic.Heaskedmyfatherformyhand,theold-fashionedway,andIwassotouchedwhenhestartedcryingwhenIsaidyes.Hewasbawling,actually,weren’tyou,Wolfey?NothingaXanaxandapi?acoladacouldn’tfix.Ofcourse,I’dneverhavedreamtthatthiswasmyfuturehusband’sfavoritecocktail.”
“I’msoexcitedtobemarryingasenator.I’vealwayswantedtovisitDC.DidyouknowthatNirvanawasfromWashington?Oh,wait,honey,that’snotthesameWashington,now,isit?”
Iwasrelentless.EvenwhenWolfeturnedfrommildlyannoyedtopositivelyfurious,theticofhisjawsuggestinghewasgoingtosnapatmetheminutewewerealone,IkeptspewingnonsenseIknewwouldembarrasshim.Andhe—theperfectgentlemaninpublic—keptchucklingsoftlyandbackingmeup,allwhileredirectingtheconversationtoworkandtheupcomingelections.
BeingintroducedtohalfofChicago’shighsocietyprovedtobeatimesucker.SomuchsothatIdidn’thavetimetolookformyparents.Afterwhatseemedlikehours,WolfeandIfinallymadeourwaytoourtable.Islidintomychair,swallowinghardandtryingnottoswoonfromlackoffood.Keatondrapedhisarmacrossthebackofmychair,brushingmybareshoulderwithhisfingers.Thefreshlymarriedcouplewasattheircentraltable,makingatoast.Wewereseatednexttoanothersenator,twodiplomats,andtheformersecretaryofstate.Myeyesbegantodriftamongthetables,searchingformyfamily.IknewIwouldfindthemafterdessertwasservedandwhenthedancingstarted,butIlongedforaglimpseofMama.
Ifoundmyparentsseatedatthetableacrosstheroom.Papalookedhisusualformidable,cutthroatself;theonlysignsofwarinesswerethedarkcirclesframinghiseyes.Mamalookedputtogetherasalways,butInoticedthesmallthingsnooneelsewould.Thewayherchinwobbledasshespokewiththewomansittingacrossfromher,orthewayherhandshookwhenshereachedforherglassofwine.NexttothemsatAngelo’sparents,andnexttothem…
Myheartstilled,swellingbehindmyribcagelikeaballoonabouttoburst.
Angelobroughtadate.Notjustanydate,butthe
date.Theoneeveryonehadbeenexpectinghimtobring.
HernamewasEmilyBianchi.Herfather,EmmanuelBianchi,wasawell-knownbusinessmanandanundeclaredmemberofTheOutfit.Emilywastwenty-threewithsilkyblondhairandgloriouscheekbones.Tallandbusty,shecouldfitmyslender,tinyframeinherpalm.ShewastheclosestthingtoItalian-Americanroyaltyafterme,butsinceshewasAngelo’sage,theirconnectionwasexpected—almostprayedfor—amongthefamiliesofTheOutfit.
I’dmetherplentyoftimesbefore,andshealwaystreatedmewithablendofboredomanddismissal.Notexactlyrudebutimpoliteenoughtoletmeknowthatshedidn’tliketheamountofattentionIwasgetting.Itdidn’thelpthatEmilywenttoschoolwithAngelo,andthatsheabsolutelydespisedmeforspendingmysummerswithhim.
Sheworeaskintightblackmaxidresswithadeepslitthatranalongherrightthighandwasadornedwithenoughgoldaroundherneckandthroughherearstoopenapawnshop.ShehadherhandclaspedaboveAngelo’sasshemadeconversationwiththepeoplearoundher.Asmall,possessivegesturehedidnotreject.Notevenwhenhiseyeswanderedacrosstheroomandlandedonmine,lockingustogetherinaweirdbattleinwhichnoonewouldwin.
Istiffenedinmychair,myheartjackhammeringagainstmysternum.
Air.Ineededmoreair.Morespace.Morehope
.BecausewhatIsawinhiseyesfrightenedmemorethanmysoon-to-behusband.Itwascompleteandutteracceptanceofthesituation.
Theywerebothintheirtwenties.
Theywerebothbeautiful,single,andfromthesamesocialcircle.
Theywerebothreadyformarriage.Gameoverforme.
“Francesca?”OneofthediplomatswhosenameIdidn’tcatchchuckledintohisnapkin,tryingtodrawmyattentionbacktotheconversationatthetable.IbrokeawayfromAngelo’sgazeandblinked,lookingbackandforthbetweentheoldmanandmyfuturehusband.IcouldseeWolfe’sjawtensingwithfrustrationthathadbuiltthroughouttheeveningandknewhehadn’tmissedthemomentI’dsharedwithmychildhoodfriend.
Ismiledapologetically,smoothingmydress.
“Couldyourepeatthequestion,please?”
“CaretotellushowSenatorKeatonpoppedthequestion?Ihavetosay,heneverstruckmeastheover-romantictype,”hechortled,strokinghisbeardlikeaHarryPotter
character.Ididn’tevenhaveitinmetotauntWolfe.Iwastoocaughtupinthefactthatmylifewasofficiallyover,andAngelowasgoingtomarryEmily,thereforefulfillingmyworstnightmare.
“Yeah,ofcourse.He…he…proposedtomeonthe…”
“Staircasetothemuseum,”Wolfeclipped,chuckingmychininfauxaffectionthatmademyskincrawl.“Idon’tknowwhatIdidtodeserveherpassionatekiss.Youstolemybreath.”Heturnedtome,hisgraysonmyblues,twopoolsofbeautifullies.Peoplegaspedaroundus,enchantedbythemagneticpowerofhisexpressionashestaredatme.“Istoleyourheart.”
Youstolemyfirstkiss.
Thenmyhappiness.
Andfinally,mylife.
“T-that’sright.”Idabbedmyneckwithalinennapkin,suddenlytoonauseousandweaktofightback.Mybodywasfinallycrumplingunderthestrainofnoteatingfordays.“Iwillneverforgetthatnight,”Isaid.
“Meneither.”
“Youmakeabeautifulcouple,”someoneremarked.Iwastoodizzytoeventelliftheyweremaleorfemale.
Wolfesmirked,raisinghistumblerofwhiskeytohislips.
Defyinghimpurposely—andundoubtedlystupidly—IallowedmyeyestodriftbacktothetablewhereIlongedtosit.EmilywasnowgrazingherFrench-manicuredfingernailsalongAngelo’sblazeredarm.Angelolookeddownatherface,hismouthbreakingintoagrin.Icouldseehowshedefrostedhimtotheideaofthem.Howsheloweredhisguard,onetouchatatime.
Sheleanedtowardhim,whisperingsomethinginhisearandgiggling,andhiseyesshottomeagain.Weretheytalkingaboutme?WasImakingacompletefoolofmyselfbystaringatthemsoopenly?Igrabbedaglassofchampagne,abouttoknockitdowninonego.
Wolfewrappedhisfingersaroundmywrist,stillingmyhandbeforeitreachedmymouth.Itwasagentle,firmtouch.Callousandhairy.Aman’stouch.
“Sweetheart,we’vebeenthroughthis.Thisisreal
champagne.Thegrownupkind,”hesaidwithahintofexasperatedsympathyinhisvoice,causingtheentiretabletoroarwithwildlaughter.
“Thetroubleofmarryingayoungster,”theothersenatorsnortedout.
Wolferaisedathick,condescendingeyebrow.“Marriageisatrickybusiness.Whichremindsme…”Heleanedforward,hisblankexpressionturningintoasympatheticfrown.“HowareyouhandlingthedivorcefromEdna?”
Nowmyfuriousblushbecamealmostunbearable.Iwantedtokillhim.Killhimforthisstupidstunt,forforcingmeintomarryinghim,andforthefactthat,byproxy,hejustthrewAngelointoEmily’sarms.
Iputthechampagneglassbackonthetable,bitingmytonguefrompointingoutthatI’ddrankplentyatthegalawherewe’dmet,andhedidn’tseemtocaremuchthen.Actually,hetookadvantageofmytipsinesswhenhetrickedmeintokissinghim.
“MayIbeexcused?”Iclearedmythroatand,withoutwaitingforananswer,stoodandchargedtowardthebathroom,awareofthefactthatmynemesis’eyes,aswellasAngelo’sandmyparents’,wereallonmyback,pointedlikeloadedguns.
Therestroomswereattheendoftheballroom,GentlemenandLadiesfacingoneanother,underamassivewrought-iron,curvedstairway.Islippedinside,saggingagainstthewall,closingmyeyes,andtakingthedeepestbreathmycorsetedbodicewouldallow.
Breathe.
Justbreathe.
Ahandclaspedmyshoulder.Small,warmfingerscurlingaroundmycollarbone.Icrackedmyeyesopenandyelped,jumpingbackward,myheadhittingthetilesbehindme.
“SweetJesus!”
ItwasMama.Upclose,herfacelookedtoowary,tooold,andtoounfamiliar.Itlookedlikeshe’dagedadecadeovernight,andalltheangerI’dharboredtowardherinthepastthreedaysflewoutthewindow.Hereyeswerebloodshotandswollenfromcrying.Hernormallyproud,brownmanewaslitteredwithgrayhair.
“Howareyouholdingup,VitaMia?”
Insteadofanswering,Iflungmyselfintoherarms,releasingasobI’dbeenholdingsinceWolfeusheredmeintohissleekblackEscaladetonight.HowcouldInotcuthersomeslack?ShelookedasmiserableasIwas.
“Ihateitthere.Idon’teat.Ibarelysleep.Andtomakemattersworse…”Isniffed,disconnectingfromhersoIcouldholdhergazeforemphasis.“AngeloisdatingEmilynow.”Ifeltmyeyesbulgingoutoftheirsocketswithurgency.
“It’sonlytheirfirstdate,”Mamaassuredme,pattingmybackanddrawingmeintoanotherhug.Ishookmyheadinthecrookofhershoulder.
“Idon’tevenknowwhyitmatters.I’mgettingmarried.It’sdone.”
“Sweetie…”
“Why,Mama?”Isteppedoutofherembraceagain,draggingmyselftowardtheimperialsinkstoplucksometissuebeforemymakeupwascompletelyruined.“WhatpossessedPapatodosomethinglikethis?”
Iwatchedherinthereflectionofthemirrorbehindme.Thewayhershoulderswiltedinherslightlyoversizedblackdress.Irealizedshehadn’tbeeneatingmuch,either.
“Yourfatherdoesn’tsharemanythingswithme,buttrustmewhenItellyouthiswasnotaneasydecisionforhimtomake.Wearestillshakenbywhathappened.WejustwantyoutogiveSenatorKeatonanhonestchance.Heishandsome,rich,andhasagoodjob.You’renotmarryingbeneathyou.”
“Iammarryingamonster,”Idrawled.
“Youcouldbehappy,amore.”
Ishookmyhead,beforethrowingitbackwardandlaughing.Shedidn’thavetospellitoutforme.Herhandsweretied.Iharboredmanybadfeelingstowardmyfatherbutthinkingthemopenly—nottomentionutteringthemaloud—waslikepouringcyanideontoanopenwound.Mamalookedbackandforthbetweenthedoorandme,andIknewwhatshewasthinking.Wecouldn’tstayheremuchlonger.Peoplewouldstartaskingquestions.EspeciallywhentheysawthatI’dbeencrying.KeepingupappearanceswasvitalinTheOutfit,andifpeoplesuspectedPapa’sarmhadbeentwistedbyayoung,ambitioussenatorwhowasnewonthescene,itcouldkillhisreputation.
Mamaopenedherpurseandproducedsomething,shovingitintomyhand.
“Ifoundthisburiedunderapileofdirtylaundryinyourroom.Useit,VitaMia.Starteasingintoyournewlifebecauseit’snotgoingtobeabadone.AndfortheloveofGod,starteating!”
Shedashedout,leavingmetoopenmyhandandinspecttherecovereditem.Itwasmycellphone.Mypreciouscellphone.Fullychargedandstockedwithmessagesandmissedcalls.Iwantedtoinspectthemall—privately,andwhentimeallowedforit.IknewthatmyassumptionthatSenatorKeatonhadtakenmyphoneprivilegeswithoutaskinghimwasalittleextreme.Thenagain,blackmailingmyfatherintogivinghimmyhandwasnotexactlysubtlecourting,sonoonecouldblamemeforjumpingtoconclusions.
Ithrewtheusedtissueinthetrashcanandstormedouttothedimalcoveunderthestaircase,myfive-inchLouboutinsslappingagainstthemarblefloor.ImadetwostepsoutsidebeforeIwascorneredagainstthemirroroverlookingthebackofthestairwaybyatall,delicate-bonedframe.Igroaned,slowlyopeningmyeyesasmyspinerecoveredfromthecollisionwiththemirror.
Angelowasboxingmeinwithhisarmsoneithersideofmyhead,hisbodyflushagainstmine.Hischestbrushedtheexposed,tenderfleshofmycleavage,andourheartscrashedagainsteachotherinunison,ourbreathsminglingtogether.
Hesoughtmeout.Hecameafterme.Hestillwanted
me.
“Goddess,”hewhispered,cuppingthesideofmyfaceandpressinghisforeheadtomine.
Hisvoicewassodrenchedwithemotion,myhandsquiveredtheirwaytohisface,holdinghischeeksforthefirsttime.Hepressedhisthumbtothecenterofmylips.
Iheldontothelapelsofhisjacket,knowingwhatIwasaskingfor,andaskingforitanyway.Theneedtobeheldbyhimwasstrongerthantheneedtodotherightthingbyus.IlongedforhimtotellmethatEmilymeantnothingtohim,eventhoughitwasn’tfairtoher.Orhim.Noteventome.
“I’vebeenworriedsick.”Henuzzledhisnoseagainstminebrazenly.Thiswasmorephysicalcontactthanwe’dhadsincewewereborn,andthat—combinedwithmyhungerstrike—sentmyheadspinninginadozendifferentdirections.
Inoddedbutdidn’tsayanything.
“Youhaven’tbeengoodatpickingupthephone.”Heclutchedmyhandthatheldmyphone,squeezingitforemphasis.
“I’vejustrecovereditforthefirsttimesincethemasquerade,”Ibreathed.
“Why’dyoudothat?”Angeloasked,hisbodypracticallygrindingovermine.Paniclickedatmyconscience.WhatifAngelowastouchingmethewayhe’dneverdaredbeforebecausehehadnothingtoloseanymore?Myfatherwouldneverfrownuponhimfortakingittoofar—becausehewouldneverhavetostandinfrontofArthurRossiandaskhimformyhand.
Idesperatelywantedtoexplaineverythingaboutmysuddenengagement.ButIalsoknewthatifmyfathercouldn’tdoanythingaboutit,Angelosurewouldn’tbeabletohelpme,either.Ididn’twantustobestar-crossedlovers,stealingmomentsandsneakingkisses.Drowninginforbiddenlove.Ididn’tknowmuchaboutmyfuturehusband,butIdidknowthis—ifIcausedhimascandal,he’dretaliateandhurtthoseIloved.Ididn’tmindtakinghiswrath,butAngelodidn’tdeservetobepunished.
“Angelo.”Irakedmyhandsoverhischest.I’dnevertouchedamanlikethisbefore.Soopenly.Hispecsflexedundermyfingertips,andhefelthot,eventhroughthefabricofhissuit.
“Tellme,”heprobed.
Ishookmyhead.“Wefit.”
“We
fit,”hecountered.“He
sucks.”
Ilaughedthroughthetearslodginginmythroat.
“Iwanttokissyousobad,goddess.”Hegrabbedthebackofmyneck—nolongerniceandunderstandingandteasing—leaningdownforthekill.Hewastryingtoproveapoint.ApointIwasalreadysoldon.
“ThenIsuggestyoudoitrightawaybecauseeighteendaysfromnow,shewillbeamarriedwoman,andIwillhaveeveryrighttobreakyourfingersfortouchingher,”adry,menacingvoicegrumbledbehindAngelo.
Stunned,IslippedmyhandsfromAngelo’schest,mylegsgivinginfromsurprise.Angelocaughtmebythewaist,rightingme.Hesnappedoutofthedarklustblazinginhiseyes,twistingtolookatWolfe.Myfuturehusbandcasuallymadehiswaytothemen’srestroom,hisswaggercompletelyunperturbedbytheaffectionatedisplayinfrontofhim.Hewasmuchtaller,broader,anddarkerthanAngelo,nottomentionnearlyadecadeolder,drippingwiththeairandpowerofaforceyoushouldn’tcross.Theauthorityhepossessedwasalmosttangible.Ihadtobitetheinsideofmycheektostopfromapologizingforthesceneunfoldinginfrontofhim.Ilookedupinsteadofdown,refusingtodeclaredefeat.
Angelolookedstraightathim.
“SenatorKeaton,”hebitout.
Wolfehaltedbetweenthetwoentrancesoftherestrooms.Icouldfeelhisimperialbodyashelookedbackandforthbetweenus,assessingthesituationwithcooldisinterest.
“Imeanteveryword,Bandini,”Wolfesaidhuskily.“Ifyou’dliketokissmyfiancéegoodbye,tonight’syourchancetodoit.Inprivate.NexttimeIseeyou,Iwillnotbesoforgiving.”
Withthat,hebrushedhisfingertipsovermyengagementring,anot-so-subtlereminderofwhomIbelongedto,sendingashockwavethroughmybody.HedisappearedbehindtherestroomdoorbeforeIcouldcatchmybreath.IthoughtAngelowouldrunawaytheminuteWolfegavehimhisback,buthedidn’t.
Instead,hecagedmeagainstthemirrorwithhisarmsagain,shakinghishead.
“Why?”heasked.
“WhyEmily?”Icountered,raisingmychin.
“You’retheonlywomanIknowwho’dbringEmilyuprightnow.”Heballedhisfist,slammingitbesidemyhead.Iswallowedagasp.
“IcamewithBianchibecauseyouareengagedtobemarried.”Angelolickedhislips,tryingtogaincontroloverhisemotions.“Andalsobecauseyoumademelooklikeanidiot.Everyonewasexpectinganengagementannouncementwouldbemadeanymonthnow.EverysingleassholeinTheOutfit
.Andhereyouare,sittingacrosstheroomatthetablewiththesecretaryofstate,inthearmsofWolfeKeaton,playingthedutifulfiancée.Ineededtosaveface.Afaceyouwalkedalloverwithyourpretty,seductiveheels.Worstpart,Francesca?Youaren’teventellingmewhy
.”
Becausemyfatherisweakandisbeingblackmailed.
ButIknewIcouldn’tsayit.Itwouldruinmyfamily,andasmuchasIdespisedmyfatherrightnow,Icouldn’tbetrayhim.
WithoutrealizingwhatIwasdoing,Iheldhischeeksinmyhands,smilingthroughthetearsthatwererunningdownmycheeks,chasingoneanother.
“Youwillalwaysbemyfirstlove,Angelo.Always.”
Hisharshbreathcamedownonmyface,warmandlacedwithsweet,muskywine.
“Kissmeright
.”MyvoiceshookaroundmyrequestbecausethelasttimeI’dbeenkissed—theonly
timeI’dbeenkissed—wasallwrong.
“I’llkissyoutheonlywayIcanwithoutgivingyoumyheart,FrancescaRossi.Theonlywayyoudeservetobekissed.”
Heleaneddown,hislipspressingonthetipofmynose.Ifelthisbodyshudderingagainstminewithasobthatthreatenedtoripthroughhisbones.Allthoseyears.Allthosetears.Allthesleeplessnightsofanticipation.Thecountdownsoftheweeks,anddays,andminutesuntilwesaweachothereverysummer.Playingtooclosetoeachotherintheriver.Fingersknottingunderthetableatrestaurants.Allthosemomentswerewrappedinsidethatinnocentkiss,andIwantedsobadlytoexecutemymasqueradeplanthatnight.Toslopemyheadup.Tomeethislipswithmyown.ButIalsoknewthatIwouldnotforgivemyselfforruiningthisforhimwithEmily.Icouldn’ttarnishthebeginningoftheirrelationshipjustbecauseminewasdoomed.
“Angelo.”
Hecoveredmyforeheadwithhis.Webothclosedoureyes,savoringthebittersweetmoment.Finallytogether,breathingthesameair.Onlytobeforevertornapart.
“Maybeinthenextlife,”Isaid.
“No,goddess,definitelyinthisone.”
Withthat,heturnedaroundandglideddownthedarkenedhallway,allowingmeafewmorecalmingbreathsbeforeIsteppedoutofthealcoveandfacedthemusic.Whenmyshakingsubsided,Iclearedmythroatandmarchedtowardmytable.
WitheverystepItook,Itriedtoconveymoreconfidence.Mysmilewasalittlewider.Mybackalittlestraighter.WhenIspottedmytable,InoticedWolfewasn’tthere.Myeyesbegantosearchforhim,aconcoctionofirritationanddreadtwirlinginmystomach.Weleftthingssoawkwardly,Iwasn’tsurewhattoexpect.Partofmehoped—prayed—thathe’dfinallyhadenoughofme,andthathecalledthingsoffwithmyfather.
ThemoreIsearchedforhistallfigure,thefastermyheartthrustagainstmysternum.
ThenIfoundhim.
Myfuturehusband,SenatorWolfeKeaton,wasskatingpasttableselegantly.Threefeetbehindhim,EmilyBianchiambled,tallandprovocative,herhipsswayinglikeadangled,forbiddenapple.Herhairblondandshiny—justlikehisdatefromthemasquerade.Noonehadnoticedhowhercheekswerestainedpink.Howtheyputsomedistancebetweentheirfootstepsbutheadedinthesamedirection.
Emilywasthefirsttodisappearbehindthemassive,silkyblackdraperies,slippingfromtheballroomwithoutnotice.
Wolfestopped,shookhandswithanold,wealthy-lookingman,andstruckeasyconversationwithhimforatleasttenminutesbeforetakingasidestepandresuminghisjourneytothebackoftheballroom.
Asifsensingmygazeonhim,Wolfeturnedhisheadtowardmine,amidstthehundredsofpeoplearoundus,andlockedoureyestogether.Hewinked,hislipsunflinching,ashislegscarriedhimtohisdestination.
Mybloodbubbledinmyveins.WhenIwasbusyrestrainingmypassiontowardherdate,Emilyhadbeensnaggingmyfuturehusbandforaquickie.
Istoodthere,fistsballingbesidemythighs.Myheartpoundedsoloud,Ithoughtitwasgoingtoburstacrossthefloorandfliplikeafishoutofwater.
WolfeandEmilyhadbetrayedus.
Disloyaltyhadataste.
Itwasbitter.
Itwassour.
Itwasevenalittlesweet.
Mostofall,ittaughtmeanimportantlesson—whateverthefourofushad,itwasn’tsacredanymore.Ourheartsweretarnished.Stained.Andguilty.
Unpredictabletoafault.
Andboundtobreak.THENEXTMORNING,
ITHREW
theGodivachocolateinthekitchen’strashwherehewouldhopefullyseeit.Idraggedmyfamishedbodyoutofbedvoluntarily,drivenbytheonethingstrongerthanthepainofhunger—revenge
ThetextmessagesI’dfoundonmyphonewereenoughtofuelme.Theyweredatedthenightofthemasquerade,thesamenightI’davoidedtakingoutmyphoneoutoffearI’dbegAngeloandmakeafoolofmyself.
Angelo:Caretoexplainthatkiss?
Angelo:Onmywaytoyourhouse.
Angelo:YourfatherjusttoldmethatIcan’tcomethereanymorebecauseyou’resoontobeengaged.
Angelo:ENGAGED.
Angelo:Andnottome.
Angelo:Knowwhat?Fuckyou,Francesca.
Angelo:WHY?
Angelo:IsthatbecauseI’vewaitedayear?Yourfatherhadaskedmetodoit.Icameineveryweektoaskforadate.
Angelo:Itwasalwaysyou,goddess.
Thereweren’tanynewonessincethen.
Eatingwasstillfirmlynotonmydailyagenda—somethingI’dheardMs.SterlingcomplainingtoWolfeaboutonthephoneasIbreezedpasther,aflowerychiffonwrapdressclingingtomyever-shrinkingbody.Atthispoint,mystomachhadgivenupandstoppedgrowlingaltogether.Yesterday,I’dforcedmyselftostealafewbitesofbreadwhenWolfewasbusymakinghispointwithEmily,butitwasn’tnearlyenoughtoappeasemyshrinkinggut.Somewhereinthebackofmymind,IhadhopedI’dfaintorcauseenoughdamagetoberushedtothehospitalwhereperhapsmyfatherwouldfinallyputanendtothisongoingnightmare.Alas,hopingforamiraclewasnotonlydangerousbutcrushingaltogether.ThemoretimeIspentinthishouse,themoretherumorsmadesense—SenatorWolfeKeatonwasdestinedforgreatness.IwouldbeafirstladyandprobablybeforeIhitthirty.WolferoseupniceandearlytodaytogettotheregionalairportontimeandevenmadeplanstogotoDCovertheweekendforsomeimportantmeetings.
Hedidn’tincludemeinhisplans,andIverymuchdoubtedhecaredifIdied,otherthantheunwantedheadlineitwouldlikelycreate.
Undermyivy-lacedwindow,tuckedintheheartofthemansion’sgarden,Itendedtomynewplantsandvegetables,surprisedbyhowthey’dmanagedtosurvivewithoutanywaterforacoupleofdays.Summerhadbeencruelsofar,scorchinghotterthanthetypicalChicagoAugusts.Thenagain,everythingaboutthepastcoupleofweekshadbeencrazy.Theweatherseemedtofallinlinewiththerestofmyfrayedlife.Butmynewgardenwasresilient,andIrealizedasIcroucheddowntoweedthenewvinetomatoes,sowasI.
Icarriedtwobagsoffertilizertothespotunderneathmywindowandrummagedthroughthesmallshedlocatedonthecorneroftheyardtofindsomemoreoldseedsandemptypots.Whoeverwasassignedwiththetaskoftakingcareofthisgardenhadobviouslybeengiventheinstructionstomakeitlookmanicuredandpleasantbutonlyminimallyso.Itwasgreen,butreserved.Beautiful,yetunbearablysad.Notunlikeitsowner.Unlikeitsowner,though,Icravedtocultivatethegardenwithmygreenthumb.Ihadplentyofattentionanddevotion,andnothingandnoonetogiveitto.
AfterIplacedallthematerialinaneatline,Iexaminedtheshearsinmyhand.Igrabbedthemfromtheshed,explainingtoMs.SterlingthatIneededtocutthefertilizerbagopen,waitingforthetinyelderlywomantoturnherbacktome.Now,asthebladesoftheclipperstwinkledunderthesun,andtheunsuspectingMs.Sterlingwasinthekitchen,beratingthepoorcookforbuyingthewrongtypeoffishfordinner(stillhopingI’dgraceSenatorKeatonwithmypresenceatdinnertonight,nodoubt)myopportunityhadfinallyarrived.
Icreptmywaybackintothehouse,passingthroughthesleekchromekitchen.Itookthestairstwoatatime,slippingintothewestwingtoKeaton’sbedroom.I’dbeenthereoncebefore,whenIeavesdroppedonhimandtheprettyjournalist.Ihurriedintohisbedroom,knowingthatWolfehadatleastanotherhourbeforehegothome.Evenwithhisjet-settinglifestyle,hestillwasn’taboveescapingtheChicagotraffic.
Whereasmyroomhadbeendecoratedwithglitz,oozingofHollywood’sregencyera,Wolfe’sroomwaselegant,reserved,andplainlyfurnished.Dramaticblackandwhitecurtainsdrippedacrossthewidewindows,ablackchannel-quiltedleatherheadboardandcoal-huednightstandsstoodoutfromeachsideofthebed.Thewallswerepaintedadeepgray,thecolorofhiseyes,andasolecrystalchandelierdrippedfromthecenteroftheceiling,seeminglybowingdowntothepowerfulmanwhooccupiedtheroom.
HehadnoTV,nochestsofdrawers,andnomirrors.Hedidhaveabarcabinet,nottomysurprise,consideringhe’dmarryboozeifitwerelegalinthestateofIllinois.
Itrudgedtohiswalk-incloset,snappingtheshearschirpilyinmyhandwithnewfoundenergyasIswungthedoorsopen.Theblackoakshelvesstoodoutagainstthecoolwhitemarbleofthefloor.Dozensofsuitssortedbycolors,cuts,anddesignshunginneat,denselines,perfectlyironedandreadytobeworn.
Hehadhundredsofscarvesfoldedinprecision,enoughshoestoopenaBottegaVenetastore,andblazersandpeacoatsgalore.IknewwhatIwaslookingforfirst.Histierackcontainedoverahundredties.OnceIfoundit,Iserenelybegantosniphisupmarkettiesinhalf,takingasomewhatbizarrelikingtowatchingtheirfabricdropatmyfeetlikeorangeandrust-coloredleavesinthefall.
Snip,snip,snip,snip,snip.
Thesoundwascomforting.Somuchso,thatIforgothowhungryIwas.WolfeKeatonhadscrewedAngelo’sdate.Icouldn’t—andwouldn’t—avengehisindiscretionsbycheatingonhim
,butIdamnwellcouldmakesurethathedidn’thaveanythingtoweartomorrowmorningexceptforhisstupidsmugexpression.
AfterIfinishedthetaskofcuttingallhisties,Imovedontohiscrispdressshirts.HehadsomenervetoassumeIwouldevertouchhim
,IthoughtbitterlyasItorethroughrich,smoothfabricsincrème,swanwhite,andbabyblue.Consummatingourmarriagewasexpected.ButdespiteWolfe’sgoodlooks,Idetestedhisplayboywayoflife,awfulreputation,andthefacthehadsleptwithsomanywomenalready.EspeciallyasIwasembarrassinglyinexperienced.
Andbyinexperienced,Imeantavirgin.
Notthatbeingavirginwasacrime,butIregardeditassuch,knowingWolfewouldusethispieceofinformationagainstme,highlightinghowunworldlyandingenuousIwas.NotbeingavirginwasnotreallyanoptionintheworldIlivedin.Myparentsexpectedmetostaycelibateuntilmywedding,andIhadnoproblemfulfillingtheirwish,seeingasIdidn’tparticularlybelieveinhavingsexwithsomeoneIdidn’tlove.
Idecidedtodealwiththeissueofmyvirginitywhenitwastime.If
itwouldeverbetime.
Iwassofocusedonmymission—ruiningclothesandtiesworthmanytensofthousandsofdollars—thatIdidn’tevennoticetheclick-click
ofhisloafersashemadehiswayintohisroom.Infact,Ionlydetectedhisarrivalwhenhestoppedoutsidehisbedroomdoorandansweredhisphone.
“Keaton.”
Pause.
“Hedidwhat?”
Pause.
“I’llmakesurehecan’tmoveaninchinthistownwithoutgettingraidedbytheCPD.”
Thenhekilledthecall.
Shit
,Iinwardlycussed,throwingtheshearsonthefloorandscramblingtorunoutside.Islammedanopendrawerwhichcontainedhiswatches,knockingsomethingtothefloorandrunningoutofthewalk-incloset,flingingthedoubledoorsofhisbedroomopenjustashesteppedin,stillfrowningathisphone.
ItwasthefirsttimeI’dseenhimsincetheweddingyesterday.Afterhe’ddisappearedwithEmily,hecamebacktwentyminuteslatertoinformmethatwewereleaving.Theridebackhomewassilent.IopenlytextedmycousinAndreaonmyphone,somethinghedidn’tseemtocareabout.Whenwegothome(thisisnotyourhome,Frankie),Iretiredstraighttomyroom,bangingmydoorshutandlockingitforgoodmeasure.Ididn’tgivehimthepleasureofaskinghimaboutEmily.Infact,Ididn’tshowhimthatIcared.Atall.
Now,ashestoodinfrontofme,IrealizedthatmyreactiontowardhisflingwithEmilydidn’tmatterorearnmeanyextrapointsinourbattle.Hedid
holdallthecards.Iinstinctivelytookastepback,swallowinghard.
HistyrannicalcoldeyesranalongmybodyasifIwasnakedandofferingmyselftohimreadily,hislipsstillpressedinahardline.Heworecasualmousegraydresspantstoday,neglectingtheblazerinfavorofawhiteshirtrolledtotheelbows.
“Missme?”heaskedflatly,brushingpastmeandmoseyingdeeperintotheroom.IletoutashakylaughofdreadwhenIrealizedhemightnoticethebrokenfacedownframedpictureI’dknockedoverinmybidtoescapeandtheruinedclotheswaitingforhiminhiscloset.Thesecondhisbackwastome,Ibegantotiptoeoutofhisroom.
“Don’teventhinkaboutit,”hewarned,hisbackstilltomeashepouredhimselfagenerousdrinkatthebarbythewindow,overlookingthemainstreet.“Scotch?”
“ThoughtyousaidIcouldn’tdrink,”Imocked,surprisedatthesarcasmthatdrippedfreelyfrommyvoice.Thismansionwaschangingme.Iwashardening,insideandout.Mysoftskinclungtorigidbones,myattitudeturnedfrombrighttocynical,andmyheartfrostedover.
“Youcan’toutsidethesewalls.You’reabouttomarryasenatorandhaveyettohittwenty-one.Haveyouanyideahowbadthatwouldlookforme?”
“Howisitfairthatyoucanmarryateighteenbutnotdrinkuntiltwenty-one?Onelifechoiceissignificantlymoremonumentalthantheother,”Iblabbednervously,rootedinplaceandwatchinghisbroadback.Heworkedoutregularly,anditshowed.Iheardhispersonaltrainersingingsongsfromtheeightiesashewalkedintothefoyeratfiveo’clockeverymorning.Wolfeexercisedinhisbasementforanhoureveryday,andwhentimepermittedit,hewentforquickrunsbeforedinner.
Hetwistedtowardme,twotumblersofscotchinonepalm.Hehandedmeaglass.Iignoredhispeaceoffering,foldingmyarms.
“Areyouheretodiscussthelegalageofalcoholconsumption,Nem?”
Therewentthatstupidpetnameagain.Itwasironiche’dcalledmeNemesis.Becausehewasvainashell,andjustlikeNarcissus,therewasnothingI’dlovemorethantothrottlehimtohiseternalslumber.
“Whynot?”Icontinuedtalkinginabidtodistracthimfromhiswalk-inclosetandthemountainofdestroyedtiesandclothesatthecenterofit.“Youcanchangethingsaround,right?”
“Youwantmetochangethelawsoyoucanlegallydrinkinpublic?”
“Afteryesterday,IthinkIearnedtherighttoastiffdrinkanywhereyou’dbe.”
Somethingglimmeredinhiseyesbeforeheturneditoffcompletely.Ahintofapleasantfeeling,thoughIcouldn’tdetectwhatitwas.Heslammedtheglasshe’dpouredformeonthebarbehindhim,leaningahipagainstitandexaminingme.Swirlingtheamberliquidinhistumbler,hecrossedhislegsattheankles.
“Wasittoyoursatisfaction?”hecroaked.
“What?”
“Mywalk-incloset.”
Ifeltmyselfreddeningandhatedmybodyforitsbetrayal.Wolfesleptwithsomeoneelseyesterday,forgoodness’sake.Andhadquiteabitoffunrubbingitinmyface.Ishouldbeyellingathim,hittinghim,throwingthingsathim.ButIwasphysicallyexhaustedfromthelackoffoodandmentallybeatfromthenewsofourengagement.Throwingafit,appealingasitmightbe,wassomethingIdidnothavetheenergytodo.
Ishrugged.“Seenbetter,bigger,andnicerwalk-insinmylife.”
“I’mgladyou’reunderwhelmedsinceyouwillnotbemovingtothisbedroomafterthewedding,”hedeliveredthenewswryly.
“ButIsupposeyoudoexpectmetowarmyourbedwhenyou’reinthemoodforsomedomesticbliss?”Istrokedmychinthoughtfully,givinghimthesamesardonicsasshedishedatme.Ienjoyedamomentoftriumphwhenhiseyesskimmedmyfingers,onlytofindthathisengagementringwasn’tthere.
“Itakeitback.Youdohaveabitofaspine.Granted,Icouldsnapitlikeawishbone.”Hesmiledproudly.“Nonetheless,it’sthere.”
“Why,thankyoufortherecognition.Asyouknow,thereisnothingIvaluemorethanyouropinionofme.Otherthan,maybe,thedirtundermyfingernails.”
“Francesca.”Mynameslidfromhismouthsmoothlyasifhe’dsaiditatrilliontimesbefore.Maybehehad.MaybeI’dbeenhisplansincebeforeIcamebacktoChicago.“Gointomywalk-inclosetandwaituntilIfinishmydrink.Wehavemuchtodiscuss.”
“Idon’ttakeordersfromyou,”Isaid,elevatingmyhead.
“Ihaveanofferforyou.Oneyou’dbeafoolnottoaccept.AndsinceIdonotnegotiate,itwillbetheoneandonly
offerImaketoyou.”
Mymindbegantoreel.Washelettingmego?Hesleptwithsomeoneelse.Hesawmenearlymakingoutwithmychildhoodsweetheart.Andsurely,afterhe’dseenthemessI’dmadeinhiscloset,hisfeelingstowardmewouldonlytakeanosedive,ifthatwereevenpossible.Imademywaytothewalk-incloset,crouchingdownandgrabbingtheshearsforprotection,justincase.Iplasteredmybackagainstarowofdrawersandtriedtoregulatemybreathing.
Iheardtheclinkofhistumblerasithittheglassbar,thenhisapproachingsteps.Mypulsekickedupanotch.Hestoppedonthethresholdandstaredatmeemotionlessly,hisjawgranite,hiseyessteel.Thepileunderneathmemounteduptomylowerthighs.TherewasnomistakinghowI’dspentthebetterhalfofmyafternoon.
“Doyouknowhowmuchmoneyyoujustdestroyed?”heasked,histenorreservedanddetachedasever.Hedidn’tcarethatIruinedhisclothes,andthatmademefeelhopelessandlost.Hefeltcompletelyuntouchableandoutofreach,alonelystarhanginginthesky,twinklingbright,galaxiesawayfrommyviolenthandsthatdemandedretaliation
“Notenoughtocostmemypride,”Isnippedtheairwiththeshears,feelingmynostrilsflaring.
Hestuffedhishandsinhispockets,leaningashoulderagainstthedoorframe.
“What’seatingyou,Nemesis?Thefactthatyourboyfriendhadadateyesterday,orthepartwhereIfucked
saiddate?”
SonowIgotanadmissionoutofhim.Forwhateverreason,partofmewantedtogiveSenatorKeatonthebenefitofthedoubtaboutwhathappenedwithEmilybehindcloseddoors.Butnowitwasreal,andithurt.God,itshouldn’thurtasmuchasitdid.Likeapunchtomyemptystomach.Betrayal,nomatterbywhom,crackssomethingdeepinsideyou.Thenyouhavetolivewiththepiecesrattlinginthepitofyourstomach.
SenatorKeatonwasnothingtome.
No.Thatwasn’ttrue,either.
Hewaseverythingbadthat’deverhappenedtome.
“Angelo,ofcourse,”Ihuffedincredulously,myfingerstighteningaroundtheshears.Hiseyesdartedtomywhite-knuckledgripovermyweapon.Heshotmeasmirkthatsaidhecoulddisarmmewithonlyablink,letalonehisentirebody.
“Liar,”hesaidtonelessly.“Andalousyoneatthat.”
“WhywouldIbejealousofyoubeingwithEmilywhenyouwerehardlyjealouswhenAngelocorneredme?”Ifoughtthetearsthatcloggedmythroat.
“Foronething,becauseshewasafantasticlay,andAngeloisaveryluckyguytohavehersweet,expertmouthathisdisposal,”hetaunted,unbuttoningthefirstbuttonofhisdressshirt.Heatslashedthroughmyveins,makingmybodyhittemperaturesmorefittingforafurnace.He’dneverspokenanysexualwordstome,anduntilnow,ourmarriagefeltmorelikeapunishmentthanarealthing.Whenthesecondbuttonreleased,ahintofdarkchesthairpeekedbackatme.
“Second,becauseIwasnot,infact,happywithyourlittledisplayofaffection.Igaveyouachanceatapropergoodbye.Which,judgingbythewayyoutwoheldeachotherwhenIlefttherestroom,youtookinbothhands.Didyouenjoyit?”
Iblinked,tryingtountanglethemeaningofhiswords.DidhethinkthatAngeloandI…?Christ,hedid.HispassiveexpressiondidnothingtohidetheearlieremotionIcaughtinhiseyes.HethoughtI’dsleptwithAngeloatthewedding,andhewasreactingagainstacrimehedidnoteventrymefor.
Furygrippedeveryboneinmymalnourishedbody.Walkingintothisroomtoday,Icouldn’tbelieveI’deverhatehimmorethanIdid.ButIstoodcorrected.
Nowthis?This
wasrealhatred.
Ididn’tcorrecthisassumption.Itmadethehumiliationofbeingcheatedonatadlesspainful.Thebalancebetweenoursinsnowmoreeven.Isquaredmyshoulders,owninguptothisfornootherreasonthanwantinghimtohurtasmuchasIdid.
“Oh,I’dsleptwithAngeloplentyoftimes,”Ilied.“He’sthebestloverinTheOutfit,andofcourse,
Ipersonallychecked.”Ilaiditonthick.Maybeifhethoughthe’dgottenhimselfarottendealwithaneasywoman,he’dletmeleave.
Wolfecockedhishead,hisstarestrippingmeofwhateverleftoverconfidenceI’dhadinme.
“Howpeculiar.Icouldhaveswornyousaidthatyouwantedtokisshimatthemasqueradeandnothingmore.”
Iswallowed,tryingtothinkfast.IcouldcountononehandtheamountoftimesI’dliedinmylife.
“Asperthenote
.Iwasonlyfollowingtradition.I’dkissedhimathousandtimesbefore,”Iquipped.“Butthatnightwasaboutfate.”
“Fatebroughtyoutome.”
“Youstole
myfate.”
“Perhaps,yetitdoesn’tmakeitanylessmine.Consideryesterdayaone-off.Iletyougetthelittlemenaceoutofyoursystem.Anengagementgiftfromyourstruly,ifyouwill.Fromhereonout,I’myouronlyoption.Takeitorleaveit.”
“Isupposetherulesdonotapplytoyou,”Iarchedaneyebrow,snappingtheshearsagain.Heglancedatthemwithanexpressiondrippingofboredom.
“Quiteclever,MissRossi.”
“Then,SenatorKeaton,I’llhaveyouknowtheydonotapplyatall
.IwillsleepwithwhomeverIwant,wheneverIwant,aslongasyoucontinuetodoso.”
Iwasarguingmyfreedomtosleeparound,wheninpractice,Iwasmorevirginalthananun.HewastheonlymanI’deverevenkissed.This,however,wasn’taboutmyrighttosleepmywaythroughChicago’selite—butmerelyaprincipal.Equalitymatteredtome.Maybebecauseforthefirsttime,IthoughtImightbeabletoachieveit.
“Letmebeclear.”Hesteppedintothewalk-incloset,erasingsomeofthedistancebetweenus.Thoughhewasnotcloseenoughtotouchme,sharingaspacewithhimstillsentabulletofexcitementandfeardownmyspine.
“You’renoteating,andI’mnotgoingtobackdownfromthisarrangement,evenatthecostofburyingyourprettylittlecorpsewhenyourbodyfinallygivesin.ButIcanmakeyourlifecomfortable.Myproblemiswithyourfather,notyou,andyou’dbewisetokeepitthatway.So,Nemesis—whatcouldIgiveyouthatyourparentswouldn’t?”
“Areyoutryingtobuyme?”Isnorted.
Heshrugged.“Ialreadyhaveyou.I’mgivingyouachancetomakeyourlifebearable.Takeit.”
Hystericallaughterbubbledupmythroat.Ifeltmysanityevaporatingfrommybodylikesweat.Themanwasunbelievable.
“TheonlythingIwantbackismyfreedom.”
“Youwereneverfreewithyourparentstobeginwith.Don’tinsultbothourintelligencebypretendingso.”Hisflatlinedtenorwhiplashedonmyface.Hetookastepdeeperintotheroom.Icementedmybacktothedrawers,theirbronzehandlesdiggingintomyspine.
“Think
,”heenunciated.“WhatcanIgiveyouthatyourparentsneverwill?”
“Idon’twantanydresses.Idon’twantanewcar.Idon’tevenwantanewhorse,”Icriedout,wavingtheshearsinmyhanddesperately.Papasaidwhoeverdecidedtomarrymecouldbuymeahorsetoshowhisgoodfaith.AndtothinkIwasdevastatedthen
“Stoppretendingtocareaboutmaterialisticthings,”hesnapped,andItwistedaroundandthrewanOxfordshoeathimtostophimfromgettinganycloser,buthejustdodgeditandlaughed.
“Think
.”
“Idon’thaveanywants!”
“Weallhavewants.”
“What’syours?”Iwasstalling.
“Servingmycountry.Seekingjusticeandpunishingthosewhodeservetobebroughttojustice.Youdo,too.Thinkbacktothemasquerade.”
“College!”Iyelled,finallycracking.“Iwanttogotocollege.They’dneverletmegetahighereducationandmakesomethingofmyself.”ItsurprisedmethatWolfecaughtthefractionofthemomentinwhichIhadtoschoolmyfacefrombeingbothembarrassedanddisappointedwhenBishopaskedmeaboutcollege.Mygradesweregreat,andmySATscoreswereglorious.ButmyparentsthoughtIwaswastingmyenergywhenIshouldbefocusingongettingmarried,planningawedding,andcontinuingtheRossilegacybyproducingheirs.
Hestoppedhisstride.
“It’syours.”
Hiswordsshockedmeintosilence.Myquietinspiredhimtoresumehissteps.Hesmirked,andIhadtoadmit,albeitbegrudgingly,thathewasalwaysraggedlystunning—hisfaceallsharpedgeslikeanOrigamifigure—butespeciallywhenhislipswerecurledinanAdonis-likegrin.Iwonderedwhathelookedlikewithafull-blownsmile.IhopedI’dneverstickaroundtofindout.
“YourfatherhasexplicitlyaskedmenottosendyoutocollegewhenwegetmarriedtomaintainTheOutfit’sstatusquoinregardtowomen,butyourfathercanalsogofuckhimself.”Hiswordsstabbedmelikeknives.Hespokecompletelydifferentthanhedidinpublic.Asifhewasanotherpersonwithanothervocabulary.IcouldneverimaginehimdroppingtheF-bombanywherebuthere.“Youcangotocollege.Youcangohorsebackriding,visitfriends,andgoonshoppingspreesinParis.HellifIcare.Youcouldliveyourlifeseparatelyfrommine,playyourpartand,whenenoughyearsgoby,eventakeonadiscreetlover.”
Whowasthisguy,andwhatmadehimsoice-cold?InallmyyearsonEarth,andallmytimespentwiththeruthlessmenofTheOutfit,I’dnevermetanyonequitesocynical.Eventhemosthorridmenwantedlove,andloyalty,andmarriage.Eventheywantedchildren.
“AndwhatdoIgiveyouinreturn?”Ielevatedmychin,pursingmylips.
“Youeat
,”hebitout.
Icoulddothat
,Ithoughtgrimly.
“Youplaythedutifulwiferole.”Hetookanotherstep.Iinstinctivelypressedmyselfharderagainsthisdrawers,buttherewasnoescapeandnowhereelsetogo.Intwosteps,hewasgoingtobeflushagainstmejustlikeAngelohadbeenlastnight,andI’dhavetomeettheinfernoofhisbodyandthefrostofhiseyes.
Heliftedthetipsofaruined,maroon-huedtie,eatingtheentiredistancebetweenusinone,purposefulstride,“IwasplanningatriptoDC,butseeingasyourfatherisuptoallsortsoftrouble,Idecidedtostayintown.ThatmeansthatonFriday,we’llhaveguestsfromDC.Youwilldressimpeccably,youwillcuttheengagementtalesbullshitinfavorofaproper,decentversion,andyouwillentertainthemflawlesslyasyouwerebroughtuptodo.Afterdinner,youwillplaythepianoforthem,andafterthat,youwillretiretothewestwingwithme
,seeingastheywillbespendingthenightintheeastwing.”
“Sleepinginyourbed?”Ibarkedoutalaugh.Wasn’tthatconvenient.
“You’llsleepinthenextroom.”Hisbodywasnowhoveringovermine,andhewastouchingmewithoutreallytouchingme.Hepouredheatmyowncurvesdrankthirstily,andeventhoughIhatedhim,Ididn’twanthimtostepaway.
Iopenedmymouthtoanswer,butnothingcameout.Iwantedtorefuse,butalsoknewthatbyagreeingtohisdeal,I’dhavethechancetoactuallyliveadecentlife.ButIcouldn’tsurrendertohimwillinglyandcompletely.Notsofast.Helaiddownhisrules,hisexpectations,andhispriceforhismessed-upversionofmyfreedom.Wewerestrikingaverbaldeal,andtheneedtoputaclauseortwoofmyownwasprimal.
“Ihaveonecondition,”Isaid.
Hecurvedoneinquisitiveeyebrow,thetipofthetieinhishandglidingitswaytomyneck.Iraisedtheshearsinaknee-jerkreaction,readytostabhisblackheartifhetouchedmeinappropriately.Butnotonlydidhenotrecoil,heactuallyawardedmewiththatsmileI’dbeenwonderingabout.Hehaddimples.Two.Therightonedeeperthantheleft.Thetieflutteredacrossmyshoulderblade,makingmynipplespuckerinsidemybra,andIprayedtoGoditwaspaddedenoughforhimnottonotice.Iclenchedfromtheinside,mystomachtumblinganddipping.Adeliciousachespreadinmywomblikewarmgoo.
“Speaknow,orforeverholdyourpeace,Nemesis.”Hislipsflutteredsoclosetomineforasplitsecond,Iwouldn’tobjectifhekissedme.
Jesus.Whatwaswrongwithmybody?Iloathedhim.ButIalsocravedhim.Terribly.
Ilookedup,tensingmyjaw.“Iwillnotbemadeafool.IfI’mexpectedtobefaithful,sowillyou.”
Hemovedthetiefrommyshoulderblade,dippingitdownintotheslitofmycleavagebeforemovingitbackuptomyneck.Ishuddered,fightingtokeepmyeyesopen.Apoolofwetnessgatheredinmycottonunderwear.Hiseyesweredeadandseriouswhenheasked,“That’syouronecondition?”
“Andthenotes,”Iaddedasanafterthought.“IknowyouknowaboutthembecauseyouruinedmykisswithAngelo.Donotreadmynotes.Thewoodenchestisminetoopen,read,andexplorewheneverI’mready.”
Helookedsoblasé,therewasnowayIcoulddetectwhetherhetamperedwiththeboxornot.Andbynow,Iknewmyfuturehusbandwouldneverwillinglyvolunteeranyinformationtome.
Myfuturehusband.
Itwashappening.
“Itakeverbalcontractsquiteseriously.”Hebrushedthetieovermycheek,hissmilestillintact.
“SodoI.”Igulped,feelinghishandpryingmyfingersopen.Theshearsdroppedtothefloorbesideus,andhesqueezedmypalminhis,hisversionofahandshake.
OurheartswerepoundingtogetherinacompletelydifferentwayfromwhenAngeloandIweretangledinthedarkenedalcoveliketwomessyteenagersfumblingfortheirfirstkissyesterday.Thisfeltdangerousandferal.Itfeltexhilarating,somehow.Likehecouldtearmeapart,nomatterhowmanyshearsIarmmyselfwith.Iforcedmyselftorememberthathe’dsleptwithEmilyyesterdaywhilebeingengagedtome.TokeepinmindhiscruelwordswhenhethoughtI’dsleptwithAngeloonthesamenightIpresentedmyengagementringtoChicago’shighestsociety.
Hewasnotmyplaymate.Hewasmymonster.
Wolfepickedupourentwinedhandsandbroughtthemlevelwithmychin.Iwatchedinfascinationashisdark,bighandenclosedmyivory,smallone.Little,blackhairspepperedeachfingerabovehisknuckles,andhisarmswereveiny,tan,andthick.Yetsomehow,oursizedifferencedidn’tlookridiculous.
MyheartstammeredinmychestasSenatorKeatonbenthisheaddown,hislipsbrushingmyear.
“Nowcleanthemessyou’vecreated.Byevening,youwillbegivenanewlaptopconnectedtoWiFiandaNorthwesternbrochure.Bynight,youwill
haveyourdinnerandasnack.Andtomorrowmorning,afterbreakfast,youwillpracticethepianoandshopforadressthatwillmakeourguestsfoamatthemouth.AmIunderstood?”
Hewascrystalclear.ButIchosetopullaway,batmyeyelashes,andanswerhimwithoneofthetauntingsmirkshewassofondof.Ilackedrealpowerinthesituationbetweenus,sosarcasmdidn’tcostmeathing,andIfoundIhaditinspades.
Ibrushedpasthimandstrodeaway,leavinghimaloneinhiswalk-incloset
“Forsomeonewhodoesn’tnegotiate,youjustwentprettyfar.”
Hechuckledbehindme,shakinghishead.
“I’mgoingtoburyyou,Nemesis
.”ITUGGEDATTHENEW
yellowtie,tossingitonthefloor.
Toocalm.
Islidagreenonefromtherack,wrappingitovermyneckbeforethinkingbetterofit.
Toochirpy.
Ipluckedoutasilkyblackvelvetoneandpresseditagainstmywhiteshirt.
Perfect.
Mysexualfrustrationwasgettingthebestofme.Icouldbarelywalkstraightwithoutthinkingofdippingmycockintothenearestopenmouthinmyvicinity.It’dbeendayssincethelasttimeIsankmydickinawetpussy,andthelastencounterwiththefairersexwaslackluster,tosaytheleast.
Emily,ofcourse,wasamagnificentboretofuck.Justatadmoreresponsivethanacorpseandpossessingaroundthesameamountofcharm.Although,inherdefense,Iwasmoreinvestedinfuckingtherageoutofmysystemthanmakingitbearableforeitherofus.Shewaspatheticenoughtofakeanorgasm,andIwasscrewed-upenoughtopretendIdidn’tnotice.
IttookmeonesecondfromthemomentIlaideyesonFrancescaandtheblue-eyedBandiniattheweddingtorealizethattheywerealreadyhalfwayintotheirforeplay,whethertheyknewitornot.Hereyes,eveninthedarkenedniche,zingedwithsuchintensity,thethoughtofdraggingheracrosstheballroomandfuckingherontheroyalcouple’stableaspunishmentcrossedmymind.Butactingjealousandpossessivewas1.)Notinmynatureand,2.)Unconstructivetomyfinalgoal.Besides,sincewhenwasIintoteenagers?Itwasthereforecounterproductivetoletthemhaveonelastrodeo.IfItaintedit,Icouldn’tgetattachedtoit.
So,IletBandinistainitforme.
Thoroughly.
NowNemesissurprisedmebywantingexclusivity.Isupposedshewouldfigureout,afterweeksofbeingfuckedroughandruthlessly,thatthearrangementwasnotinherinterestandsendmeonmywaytothenearestavailablemistress.Kristen,ofcourse,wasnolongeranoption,sinceshetriedtorunthepieceaboutmyengagementtoRossi.Consequently,Kristengotdemotedfromseniorreportertoresearcher.Icalledhereditorandinformedhimthatthelovelyblondehe’dhiredfreshoutofYaleadecadeagowasgettinginbedwiththewrongtypeofpeople.
Thepeoplewhoselivesshewascovering.
Mine.
ItwasFridaynight,andtimeforthebigcharade.SecretaryofEnergyBryanHatchwascomingoverwithhiswifetodiscusshissupportinmyfuturecampaign.Ihadnearlysixfullyearstoserveasasenator,buttheobjectivewasclear:Presidency.Itwas,admittedly,partofthereasonMissRossiwasnowtheproudownerofoneofthemostexpensiveengagementringsinthestate.Adjustingmyimagefromsomeonewhoshovedhiscockintoenoughmouthstosilencethebetterhalfofthenationtothesaviorofamobprincesswouldearnmesomemuch-neededpoints.Hernobleupbringingwasanicetouchasafirstlady,too.Nottomention,I’dmercilesslykillherfather’sbusinessintheprocess,despitemyso-calledaffectiontowardmywife.
They’dcallmeamartyr,andshe’dneverbeabletocallmeonmybullshit.
Itiedmynewlyboughtblacktieandscowledatthemirrorinfrontofme.Thewalk-inclosethadbeenthoroughlycleanedandtheruineditemsreplaced.IpattedthedepthofmydrawerfortheframedpictureI’dbeenlookingateverytimeIneededtorememberwhereIcamefrom,andwhereIwantedtogo.
Itwasn’tthere.
Slowly,Ipulledthedrawerallthewayoutuntilitwasfullyopened.Thephotostill
wasn’tthere.Francescaeitherdestroyeditortookitwithher.MymoneywasontheformersinceshewaspositivelycertifiedafterfindingoutI’dfuckedherboyfriend’slatesttoy.Wassheexpectingmetowatchherpubliclygrindoveranotherman’scockandhandheracondom?Eitherway,she’dtakenittoofar.
Istormedoutofmyroom,stalkingmywaytotheeastwing.Sterlingjumpedinmywaydownthehalljustassheexitedherownroom.Sheflungherarmsintheair,cacklinglikeahappyhen.
“Yourfiancéeislookingravishing,SenatorKeaton!Icannotwaitforyoutoseehowbeaut…”Shedidnotcompletethesentence.Ibulldozedpastherwordlessly,straighttoFrancesca’sroom.SterlingstumbledaftermebeforeIbarked,“Don’tyouevendreamaboutit,youoldhag.”
IthrewthedoortoNemesis’sroomopenwithoutknocking.Thistime,shereallydidit.Theclothesandtieswerejustmoney,andmeaninglessinthegrandschemeofthings.Thepicture,however,waspriceless.
Ifoundmybridesittinginfrontofhervanitymirror,wearingatightblackvelvetdress—itlookedlikewecoordinatedsomethingotherthantryingtostabeachother—alitcigarettedanglingfromthecornerofherlusciouslips.Shewasshovingmudintoapot,gardeninginthemiddleofherbedroom,inaChaneleveningdress.
Shewascrazy.
Andshewasmy
crazy.
WhatinthefreshhelldidIgetmyselfinto?
Iwaltzedtoherbriskly,pluckingthecigarettefromhermouthandsnappingitinhalfinonehand.Shelookedup,battinghereyelashes.Shewasasmoker.AnotherthingIloathedabouther,andpeople,ingeneral.Atthisrate,IwasseriouslycontemplatinggettingtoknowthisgirljustsoIcoulddestroyhermorethoroughly.EventhoughIdecideduponrequestingherhandthatIdidn’twanttobeprivytoanythingabouther—otherthan,maybe,howherwarm,sleekcuntfeltasIpummeledintoit.
“Donotsmokeinsidemyhouse,”Igrowled.Myvoiceleakedfury,andthatpissedmeoffevenmore.Iwasneverangry,neveraffected,andaboveall—neveronetogiveonesinglefuckaboutanythingotherthanmyself.
Sherosetoherfeet,slantingherheadslightlywithanamusedsmile.
“Youmeanour
house.”
“Don’tplaygameswithme,Nemesis.”
“Thendon’tactlikeatoy,Narcissus.”
Shewasinrareformtoday.ThatwaswhatIgotforsittingatthenegotiationtable.Servedmeright.Ipushedheragainstthewallwithone,swiftmovement,snarlinginherface.
“Whereisthepicture?”
Herexpressionswitchedfromgleetodread,thesmirkfallingfromherpuffylips.Ilookeddownathercurlyblackeyelashes.Hereyesweremarbles.Toobrutallybluetolookreal,andIwantedherskintomatchthemincolorasIchokedherforbeingsostubborn.IfonlyI’dknownhowmuchofaheadacheshe’dbe,I’dhaveprobablyresistedthetemptationtotakeherawayfromheroldman.Butshewasmyproblemnow,andIwasn’tonetoadmitdefeat,letalonebedominatedbyateenybopper.
Ithoughtshewasgoingtoplaydumb—anyotherweakwomanwould—butFrancescawasinamoodtoreinforcethefactshewasnotapushover.Sinceourdeal,I’dalmostbeenluredtobelieveshewascontained.ShewenthorsebackridingeverydayandtouredNorthwestern,accompaniedbySmithy,mydriver,herpain-in-the-asshousekeeper,Clara,andhercousin,Andrea.TheyallarrivedatmymansionasthoughtheywereabouttotakeatouroftheWhiteHouse.CousinAndrealookedlikealostmemberoftheKardashianswithherhairextensions,faketan,andtightclothes.Shewasinthehabitofsnappinghergumasamethodofcompletingasentence.Iswore,sheuseditasaperiod.
“Nicevase.”
Pop.
“Areyouguyslegitinarelationship?Becausehe’salittleold.”
Pop
“DoyouthinkyoushouldhaveabachelorettepartyinCabo?I’veneverbeen.”
Pop.
SterlingtoldmeFrancescapracticedthepianointhemornings,atethreemealsaday,andgardenedinhersparetime.
Ithoughtshewascomingaround.
Ithoughtwrong.
“Ibrokeit,”shesaid,raisingherchindefiantly.Shewasfullofsurprises,thisone,andtoday,Iwasparticularlyinthemoodforaneventlessevening.“Byaccident,”sheadded.“I’mnotoneformindlessvandalism.”
“ButIam?”Itookthebait,grinning.Iwasmoreconcernedaboutthefactthatthecleanershadprobablytossedawaythepicturein
thebrokenframethananythingelse.ItwasthelastpictureI’dhadofustogether.Itwasmyentireworldencasedincheapglass.MybridewasluckyIwasn’tabovethelawjustyet.Icouldmarherbeautifulneckinthatmoment.
Sheofferedmeapolite,coldsmile.“But,ofcourse,youare.”
“Tellme,Nemesis,whatdidIbreakofyours?”Ichallengedherthroughgrittedteeth,gettingfartherinherfaceandcrushinghersmallbodywithmylargeone.
“Why,mydearfiancé,youbrokemyheartandthenmyspirit.”
IwasabouttosaysomethingwhenSterlingknockedonthewoodendoorframesoftly,shovinghercotton-hairedheadbetweenthecrack.ItwasonlythenthatIrealizedIhadmykneebetweenFrancesca’sthighs,andthatbothwomenwerelookingatmykneewitheyeswideinshock.Onefromthedoorway,theotherwithpartedlips,hereyelidsheavy.Itookastepback.
Sterlingswallowed.“Sir,Mr.Secretaryandhiswifeareheretoseeyou.ShouldI…shouldItellthemyou’rebusy?”
Snorting,Ishookmyhead,scanningFrancescawithdisdainonelasttime.
“Neverbeenmoreboredinmylife.”
Isupposeddinnerwentwell,consideringFrancescaandIusedourutensilsstrictlyonourpoachedpearsandherbedlambasopposedtooneachother.
BryanandIsatacrossfromoneanother,discussingmyfutureplansbeforeweevengottothemaincourse,whilemystriking,entrancingfiancée—Bryan’swords,not
mine—askedhisblandwifeallabouthermind-numbingcharityfoundations,includingherAdopt-a-Clownaidforhospitalizedchildren,andBrosforHose—hosebeingliteralfirehose—organization.Bryanwasnevergoingtolivedownthelasttitlehiswifechose.Francesca,however,noddedandsmiledeventhoughIknew,withoutashadowofadoubt,thatshewasboredtotears.AllsheneededwasacustomarywavetorivalKateMiddletonintheetiquettedepartment.Iwasstrangely—andannoyingly—pleasedwithher.EspeciallyconsideringthefactshejustmanagedtoruintheonlythingItrulycaredaboutinthiswhole,expensive,andpointlessmansion.Thepicture
Iwasdismemberingmymaincoursenow,alobster,imaginingitwasmyfuturewife’slimbs,whenGaliaHatchperkedupfromherdishandshotanotherenthusiastic,borderline-derangedglanceatFrancesca.Herhairwasbleachedandsprayedtoapointitclatteredindrychunksatopherhead,andherfacesoplastic,shecouldpassasaTupperwarecontainer.Nottomention,therewasamedievalwitchsomewherewhowantedherdreadfuldressback.
“Oh,my,nowIknowwhyyouaresofamiliar!Youwereleadingacharity,too,weren’tyou,darling?BackinEurope.France,ifI’mnotmistaken?”Sheclickedherforkagainstherchampagneglass,makingagrand,idioticannouncementofsomesort.
Iwasabouttosnortoutadismissal.Nemesisonlycaredaboutherhorses,garden,andAngeloBandini.Notnecessarilyinthatorder.Myplusone’searspinkedimmediately,andshesetherutensilsonherhalf-fullplate.
“Switzerland.”Shedabbedatthecornerofhermouthwithhernapkinfornonexistentcrumbsoffood.
IstoppedlisteningtoBryangushingaboutthesecretaryofstateandturnedmyattentiontotheladies’conversation.Francescalookeddown,andahintofhercleavagecaughtmyeye.Hermilkytitswerepressedtogetherinatightbra.Lookingawaywasnotinmynearfuture.Dyingofblueballs—mightbe.
“Fascinatingcharity,itwas.Iremembertherewassomegardeninginvolved?Yougaveusatourafewyearsback.Icouldn’tstopblabbingformonthsafterwardaboutthesweetAmericangirlwhoshowedusthegardens,”Galiahootedloudly.Myeyesdraggedfrommywife’schesttoherface.Herblushdeepened;herfacesofreshandyouthfulevenundertheminimalmakeupsheapplied.Shedidn’twantmetoknow.Icouldseenoreasonshe’dwithholdtheinformationfromme,otherthanfearingthatI’dactuallytakealikingtoherifIknewthatshewasphilanthropic.
Notroublethere,darling.
“Didyouknowyourwifeisalsoapatron?”BryanraisedhisthickgrayeyebrowsatmewhenherealizedIwasn’tpayingattentiontohiswords.Ididnow.Andalthoughshepossessedadmirablefirstladyqualities,includingherbeauty,wits,andabilitytoentertainwomenasthickasGalia,whocoulddriveamonkeyintoalcoholism,Ifoundmyselfthoroughlyaggravated.Francescahadofficiallyproventohavetoomuchpersonalitythannecessary.Itwastimetoclipherblack-inkedNemesiswings.
“Naturally.”Ithrewmynapkinonthetable,signalingthefourservantsstandingagainsteachofthewallsofmydiningroomtoclearoutourplatesaheadofdessert.Francescaavoidedmygaze,somehowsensinghowirritatedIwas.Shecouldreadmefairlywellbynow.Anotherthingtoaddtothenever-endinglistofthingsIdislikedabouther.Whenherfootfoundmineunderthetableandthesharppointyheelkickedmyloafersinwarning,IrealizedthatIwantedarefundonmydealwithArthurRossi.
Hisdaughterwasn’tatoyoraweapon.
Shewasaliability.
“Wegrewself-sustainingvegetablegardensinpoorpartsofthecountry,mainlythoseareasthatemployedrefugeesandimmigrantswholivedinseverecircumstances,”Nemprovided,sittingbackandrunningherlong,thinfingersoverherneck,avoidingmygaze.Herheeltraveleduptomyknee,andthentowardmyinnerthigh.Idraggedmychairbackbeforeshehadthechancetosmashmyballswithherstilettos.
Twocanplaythisgame.
“Iseverythingokay?”GaliaaskedFrancescawithaconcernedsmileasmyfiancée’shandflewtoherlips.Atthesametime,Iraisedmylegunderthetable,pressingmyheelbetweenherthighs.Itwasaknee-jerkreactiononherpart,asifsheforgotsomethingon
thoselips,andIhadaknee-jerkreactionofmyownwhenmycockstoodatattentionatthegestureasifsaying,Yes,Nemesis,I’mthethingthat’smissingfromyourmouth.
Thatkissonthemuseum’sstairsfeltlikeafirstkiss.Butaftershe’dbraggedaboutsleepingwithAngeloplentyoftimes,andprobablyrodehalfTheOutfit,Iconcludedthatmyfuturewifewassimplyaveryconvincingkisser.IfIcouldseethesamedisgustonherfaceagainafterputtingmylipsonhers,I’drememberthecoldbitchwhoremindedmesomuchofherassholefather.
“Icoulduseacigarette.”Francescasmiledapologetically,pushingherchairbackandrelievinghergroinfrommyhard-pressedfoot,whichnodoubtputpressureonherclit.
“Suchaprettygirl,suchafilthyhabit.”Galiascrunchedhernose,notmissingachancetopatronizeheryounger,prettiercompanion.
Ihappentolikemyfiancéefilthy
,Iwantedtobiteout,butofcourse,Ikepttheunwarrantedreactiontomyself.Smokingwasavice,andviceswereweaknesses.Ididn’tallowforanyoftheminmylife.Idrankverycasuallywithstrictcontrolovertheamount,quality,andfrequencyofmydrinks.Otherthanthat,Ididnotconsumejunkfood,didnotbet,smoke,dodrugs,orevenplayBestFiends
andCandyCrush
Zeroaddictions.OtherthanArthurRossi’smisery,ofcourse.
Icouldn’tgetenoughofthatshit.
“MayIbeexcused?”Francescaclearedherthroat.
Iwavedheroffimpatiently.“Makeitfast.”
Afterdessert,whichBryanandIdidn’ttouchyetGaliaconsumeditinitsentiretyandevenaskedforasecondserving,InoticedthatFrancescatooktwobitesofherownbeforedeclaringitwassinfullygood,butshewastoofull(thatboardingschoolwaswortheverypenny).Afterward,weretiredwithourdrinkstothesalontolistentomybride-to-beplaythepiano.SinceNemwasnineteen,practicallyababyintheworldIoperatedin,itwasofessencetoshowthatshewaswell-bred,soft-spoken,anddestinedtobecomeAmericanroyalty.ThethreeofussatontheupholsteredsofasoverlookingthepianoasFrancescatookaseat.Theentireroundroomhadshelvesstackedwithbooksforwalls.Itwasmyfinaltouchwhenentertainingcolleaguesandpeers,buthavingawifewhocouldplaytheinstrumentwasevenmoreimpressive.
Francescaarrangedherdressonherseatwithadmirableprecision,herbackstraightasanarrow,hernecklonganddelicate,beggingtobebruised.Herfingersfloatedoverthekeys—flirting,barelytouchingthem.ShetookhertimeadmiringthepieceI’dinheritedfrommyparents.ThelateKeatonswerebigonclassicalmusic.They’dbeenbeggingformetolearnupuntilthedaytheydied.
BryanandGaliaheldtheirbreaths,staringatwhatIhadnochoicebuttolookatmyself.Myfiancée—sopainfullybeautifulinherblackvelvetdress,herhairsecuredinaFrenchtwist,asshegazedadoringlyatanantiquepiano,caressingitwithherfingerswhilewearinganenchantedsmileonherface.Shewas,tomyutterdispleasure,muchmorethananivorypawn,expensiveandstriking,butuselessandstill.Shewasalivingthingwithapulseyoucouldfeelfromacrosstheroom,andforthefirsttimesinceItookherfromherfather,ItrulywishedIhadn’t.Notonlybecauseofthepicture,butbecauseshewasnotgoingtobeeasytotame.Anddifficult,I’ddecidedfromaveryyoungage,wasaflavorIfounddistasteful.
ShebegantoplayChopin.Herfingersmovedwithgrace,butitwasthelookonherfacethatbetrayedher.Theintensepleasuremusicbroughttoherbothmesmerizedandenragedme.Shelookedlikeshewascoming,herheadthrownback,hereyesclosed,herlipshummingsilentlytothemusic.Shewaschasingthenoteswithherlips.
Ishiftedonthecouch,lookingtomyleftattheHatch’sastheroomgrewsmallerandhotterwiththedramaticmusicbouncingonthewalls.Galiawassmilingandnodding,unawareofthefactthatherhusbandwassportingahard-onthesizeofherarm.Upuntilnow,IhadnoissuewithBryanHatch.Infact,Iquitelikedhim,despitehisincompetencetotakecareofagoldfish,letaloneoccupyaseatintheCabinet.This,however,changedmyviewofhim.
Mythingsweremine.
Nottobeadmired.
Nottobedesired.
Nottobetouched.
Suddenly,theneedtoruinthemomentformyyoungbride-to-bewasoverwhelming,almostviolent.Myprovocativefiancée,whohadthegutstofuckanothermanonthenightI’dpresentedhertomycolleaguesandpeersafterhavingputanengagementringonherfingerthatcostmorethansomepeople’shouses,wouldmostdefinitelypay.
Dispassionately,andoh-so-smugly,Iraisedmytumblerofwhiskeytomylips,standingupandsaunteringtoFrancesca.SinceIwaspositionedbehindherback,shewouldn’tseemeevenifsheopenedhereyes.Butshedidn’t,caughtinatranceofartanddesire.Shewasdrippinglustonthefloorforourgueststosee,andtheygulpedeverydropofit—somuchsothatIhadtomakeapoint,bothtothemandtoher.
WitheverystepItook,thetuneunderherfingersbecamelouderandmoredramatic.ThepiecereacheditspeakjustasIplantedthefirst,softkissonhershoulderbladefrombehind,causinghereyestosnapopenandherbodytojerkwithsurprise.Shekeptherfingersonthepiano,stillplaying,buttherestofherbodyshudderedasmylipsdraggedalonghersoft,warmneck,sinkingtothespotbehindherearforanotherseductivekiss.
“Playaway,Nemesis.You’regivingusquiteashow,comingallovermyantiquepiano.AreyoureadytotrytomeasureuptoEmily?”
Icouldfeelherskinblossomingwithheat,quiveringwithpassionasmylipsmovedagain,overhershoulder,bitingintoherinvitingflesh,dippingmyteethtohersoftskininfrontofourguestsandexhibitingterriblelackofself-controlthatmademewanttopunchmyselfintheface.
Francescamesseduphernotes,herfingersfumblingonthekeyswithoutdirection.ItookpleasureinthefactIthrewheroffbalance.Istartedtopullawayandstraighten.Withdrawingfromthesweetmistofherbody,Iassumedshe’dstopplaying,butsherepositionedherfingersonthepiano,tookadeep,calmingbreath,andstartedplaying“TakeMetoChurch”byHozier.Iknewinstantlythatthiswasaninviteformorekissing.
Ilookeddown.Shelookedup.Oureyesmet.Ifthiswashowsherespondedtochastekissesontheneck,whatkindofreactiondidshehaveinbed?
Stopthinkingaboutherinbed,youtool.
Isankrightback,brushingmythumbalongherneckasInuzzledmynoseintothecrookofit.
“Theycanseehowwetyouareforme.Itturnsthemon.”
“Jesus,”shehissedbetweenclosedlips.Shewasbeginningtoscrewupthenotesagain.Ilikedthesongbetterunderherfingertips.Lessperfect.MoreofwhatIcraved—herfailure.
“Itturnsmeon,too.”
“Don’tdothis,”shebreathed,herlaboredpantingmakingherchestmoveupanddownquickly.Yetshedidn’tdoone,simplething—shedidn’ttellmetostop.
“Theycanwatchiftheywant.You’renottheonlyexhibitionistinthishousehold,Nem,”Itaunted.
“Wolfe
,”shewarned.Itwasthefirsttimeshesaidmyname.Tome,anyway.Anotherwallfellbetweenus.Iwantedtoraiseitbackup,butnotasmuchasIwantedtohurtherforexceedingmyexpectations.
“Pleasedon’tcomeonmypiano.Itwouldleaveaterribleimpressioninfrontofourguests.Nottomention,you’dhavetolicktheseatcleanwithyourtongue.”
Sheslammedherfingersoverthekeysjustasourguestsdartedupbehindusoncue.Imadeituncomfortableenoughforeveryoneintheroom,andthemessagehithome.Theyweretoretiretotheirroomandstopdroolingovermyfiancée.SecretaryHatch,withhiswood,andMrs.Hatch,withherunfortunatechoicesofcharitynamesandunnaturallystiffhair,bidusadieufortheevening
“Thiswasquiteanevening,”Galiasniffedbehindme,arrangingherplumpfigureinsidehermulti-layereddress.Isparedherhusbandthehumiliationofturningaroundandcatchinghiserectionthroughhispants.Francescawasn’tworthtarnishingmyworkrelationshipwithhim.
“Alovelyevening.”Heclearedhisthroat,theluststillthickinhisvoice.
“Darling,saygoodnighttoourguests,”Isaid,stillstaringdownatmyfuturewifewithmybacktothem.
“Goodnight,”Francescamurmured,notturningaroundeitherasmyfacewasstillburiedinhershoulder.Assoonasthedoorshutbehindthem,shejumpedupfromherseat.Imademywaytothedooratthesametime,disinterestedinanotherthird-gradebickeringsessionwithamouthyteenager.
“Westwing,”Iclipped,mybacktoher.
“Ihateyousomuch.”Sheraisedhervoicebehindme,butitremainedsteadyanddefiant.Shedidn’tkickanythingortrytopushmelikeKristendid.Shecutallmyclotheswithoutcryingaboutitlikealittlepussy.
Iclosedthedooronherandwalkedaway.Shewasn’twortharesponse.
Tenminuteslater,Iwasinmyroom,undoingmytie.I’dalreadyhadmydailyquotaofalcohol,soIresortedtosippingwater,watchingthemainstreetoutofmywindow.Iheardmyfiancée’sheelssaunteringacrossthehallwaybehindmycloseddoors.Shortlyafter,thescentofcigarettesmokecrawledintomynostrils.Shewastryingtotellmeshewasnotgoingtoabidethehouserules,butbylightingupacigarette,shewasplayingwithamuchbiggerfire.Didshethinkwewereequals?Shewasabouttobeservedwithahugepieceofhumblepie.Andunlikeherdessert—I’dforce-feedhereverybiteofthatdishuntilthemessagewasclear.
Iwasabouttoentermywalk-inclosetandchangewhenmydoorflungopen.
“Howcouldyou!”shehissed,hereyessonarrowyoucouldbarelymakeouttheiruniquecolor.Therewasalitcigarettebetweenherfingers.Shegallopedtowardme,buteverystepwasmeasuredandcatwalk-worthy.“Youhadnorighttotouchme.Norighttosaythosethingsaboutmybody.”
Irolledmyeyes.TestingboundarieswasveryTerribleTwosofher.ButIdidn’tdoliars,andshemadeitsoundlikeshewasavirginalsaintwhodidn’ttrytotouchmycockwithherheelsandalmostcamewhenIkissedhershouldernotsolongago.
“Unlessyou’reheretosuckmycock,pleaseseeyourselfoutofmyroom.I’dhatetocallsecurityandhaveyouremovedtoatemporaryhotel,butIwill.”
“Wolfe!”Shepushedmychest,losingherfooting.Iwasalreadyriledupaboutthepicture,andthelossoftheonlymaterialisticthingthatIcaredabout.Ididn’trespond.Shepushedmeagain,harder.
Teenager
,Ithoughtbitterly.OutofallthewomeninChicago,youaremarryingateenager.
Ifishedmyphonefrommypocketandpunchedtheextensionofmybodyguard.Hereyeswidened,andshetriedtosnatchthephonefrommyhand.Iclampedmyhandoverherwristandpushedheraway.
“Whatthehell!”sheyelled.
“IsaidI’dthrowyouout.Imeantit.”
“Why?”
“Becauseyou’reconfused,andhorny,andgettingonmynerves.Theonlyreasonyou’reinmybedroomisbecauseyou’dliketohavesex.Onlyyou’dhatetohaveitwithme.AndsinceI’mnotinthebusinessofforcingmyselfuponwomen,Iamnotinterestedinwatchingyouhavingameltdownforhalfanhourbeforeyoufigureitout.”
Shegrowledbutsaidnothing.Moreblushing.Moresuckingonhercigarette.Herlipsweremadetotorturegrownmen.Iwassureofit.
“Out,”Isaid.
“Whosepicturewasit?”sheaskedoutofnowhere.
“Noneofyourbusiness.Didyouseewhocleanedmyroom?”I’dhiredaprofessionalcompanythreetimesaweek.Theyweren’tinthehabitofthrowingthingsaway,butthephotowasprobablyburiedbetweenmountainsofclothes.Anotherthingsheruined.
Ofcourse,Francescaneverbotheredtocleanhershitup.Shehadtheupbringingofamonarch.Cleaningherownmesswasn’taconceptshewasfamiliarwith.
“No,”shesaid,bitingonthecornerofherthumbnailandlookingdown.Sheputoutthecigaretteinmyglassofwater(Iwasgoingtokillher)andlookedstraightatme.“AndIdoknowwhyI’mhere.”
“Youdo?”Iarchedaneyebrow,feigninginterest.
“Icameheretotellyoutonevertouchmeagain.”
“Coincidentally,youcameherebreakingthenewswhilewearinganightgownthatbarelycoversyourtitsandshowsoffeveryinchofyourlegs.”Ilookedoutsidemywindowagain,findingthesightofherunbearableallofasudden
Icaughtherinmyperipherylookingdown,surprisedbythefactthatshewasalreadyinherpalebluenightgown.Shewassuchafuckingmess.I’dmetavarietyofwomeninmylife,butI’dyettomeetawomanwhowassohell-bentonseducingme,onlytofreakoutwheneverIshowedfaintsignsofinterest.
“Fine.”Iranmythumbovermylips,watchingthemanicuredneighborhoodwithindifference.
“Fine?”
“Yes.Youseemlikeaparticularlyboringlayasitis.”
“I’dtakebeingboringoverbeingapsychoanydayoftheweek.”
“Humiliationlooksgoodonyou,Nemesis.Now,go,”Iordereddrily,slidingmytiefrommyneck.
Iwatchedherreflectioninmywindowasshestartedtowalktowardthedoors,stoppingwithherhandononeofthehandlesandturningaroundtofacemeagain.Iturnedaroundtomeethereyes.
“YouknowhowIknewyouweren’tAngelowhenwekissed?Notbecauseofyourheightoryourscent.Itwasbecauseyoutastedlikeash.Likebetrayal.You,SenatorKeaton,tastebitterandcold,likepoison.Youtastelikeavillain
.”
Thatdidit.Istalkedovertoher,toofasttomakehersecond-guesshernextmove,buriedahandinherhair,mymouthcomingdownonherstoshutherup.Iwrappedmytiearoundthebackofherneckwithmyotherhand,tugginghertowardmeandbindingustogether.
Itwasalong,violentkiss.Ourteethclashed,hertonguechasingminefirstwhileIplasteredherlittlebodyagainstmydoors,grinningintohermouthatthefactthatherbackhittheroundhandles.Herlipsmovingagainstmineconfirmedthatshewasaliar,andhergroinbuckingagainstmyowncementedthefactshewantedtobefuckedbadly—shejustdidn’tlikeideaofyieldingtome.Itightenedmygriponthebackofherskull,deepeningourkiss.Shewasdazed,andIknewitbythewayherhandsslidupmychest,cuppingmycheeksanddrawingmeclosertoher.ItwasthesamethingshedidwithAngeloatthewedding.ThatwashowIcaughtthemwhenIlefttherestroom.Herhandsonhischeeks.Inonemove,sheswitchedhertouchfrompassionatetointimate.Shepulledthetiebetweenus,moaninghelplesslyintomymouth.Idrewbackinstantly.
Oursisnotalovestory.
“Leave,”Ibarked.
“But…”Sheblinked.
“Leave!”Ithrewthedooropen,waitingforhertorunaway.“Imademypoint.Youmadeyours.Iwon.Tuckyourtailbetweenyourlegsandgetthehellout,Francesca.”
“Why?”Hereyeswidened.Shewasmoreembarrassedthanhurt,judgingbythewayshehuggedherchesttocoverherpuckerednipplesunderhernightgown.She’dneverbeenrejected.Butitwasherpride,notfeelings,whichhadbeenwounded.
BecauseyouloveanothermanandaretryingtopretendthatIamhim.
Iflashedherasardonicsmile,smackedherbutt,andgaveheralittlepushoutmydoor.“YousaidItastelikeavillain,butyoutastelikethevictim.Now,savewhatever’sleftofyourself-worthandleave.”
Islammedthedoorinherface.
Turnedaround.
Grabbedtheglassofwaterwiththecigarettebuttswimminginit.
Andthrewitoutthewindow.MYPARENTSWERENOTGOING
tofightformyfreedom.
Therealizationshouldhavestruckmesooner,butIclungtothathopeliketheedgeofacliff.Helplessly,foolishly,humiliatingly.
IcalledmymotherthemorningafterWolfethrewmeoutofhisroom,tellingheraboutthetextmessagesI’dreceivedfromAngeloandaboutlastnight’sevents.Blushhitmyfaceandneckinunevenpatches.Terribleshamegnawedatmygutforactingsocarelesslylastnight.True,wewereengagedtobemarried,butweweren’tacouple.Notreally.Technically,itwasjustakiss.ButIwasthere,andtherewasmuchmoretoit.Moretouching.Moregrinding.Moredevouring.MorefeelingsIcouldn’tpinpoint—farawayfromlove,yetshockinglyclosetoaffection.
WhenmymotherheardaboutAngelo’stexts,sheberatedmeforcontemplatingansweringthem.“You’reanengagedwoman,Francesca.Pleasestartactinglikeone
.”WhenmyfacewassohotwithshameIwasabouttoexplode,sheconnectedmyfathertotheotherline.Together,theyinformedme,rathertactfully,thatAngelowastoattendanupcomingweddingwithEmilyashisplusone,withmyfatheraddingthatthey’dmadeabeautifulcoupleattheBishop’swedding.ItwasinthatmomentofclaritywhenI
Theysaythedevilyouknowisbetterthantheonethatyoudon’t,butIdidn’tfeelasthoughItrulyknewmyfatheranymore.Hisaffectionapparentlydependedonthecircumstances,andIwastomeeteachoneofhisexpectations
Lastnight’shumiliation,pairedwiththefactthatmymotherchangedhertuneovernightandmyfatherwaseagerformetopleaseWolfe,mademewanttorebel.
“I’msuretheylooklovelytogether,Papa.I’malsogladI’llseeAngeloaroundandhearallabouthisrelationshipwithEmilydirectlyfromhim.”Iinspectedmymuddynailscasuallyasifmyparentscouldseeme.Ipacedaroundthegarden,takingabreakfrompottingandfertilizingmyradishes.Ms.Sterlingwaspretendingtoreadinthepavilionnexttome,hernosestuckinahistoricalbookasthickasherglasses,butIknewshewaseavesdropping.Infact,Ifiguredshe’dbeensnoopingeverytimeanyoneopenedtheirmouthsinthehouse—cleaners,gardeners,andUPSdeliverymenincluded.I’dbeshockedtodiscovershehadn’theardourkiss,thenourfightwhenWolfeshooedmeaway.
Mycheeksheatedjustthinkingaboutlastnight.SenatorKeatonhadyettoleavehisroomthismorningsincereturningfromescortinghisgueststohisprivatejetwhileIwasasleep.I’dbecontentnottoseehimtheremainderoftheweekend,month,andthespanofmylifetime.
“Howdoyoumean?”myfatherdemanded.
“Why,Papa,Ihavethebestnews.Mynewgroomhasdecidedtosendmeofftocollege.Northwestern,noless.I’vealreadytakenatour,andI’mfillingoutanapplicationtoday.Hewasso
supportiveofthatdecision,”Iuttered,noticingwithsatisfactionthethinsmiletuggingatMs.Sterling’slipsashereyesremainedonthesamepageforlongminutes.IwassuremyfatherwaswellawareofthefactthatAngelo,too,appliedforamastersatNorthwestern.Hewasgoodatconnectingthedots
Afewdaysago,I’dsighedandcomplainedtothegardenaroundmethatIneededmorepotsandanewwateringcan.Thedayafter,newoneswerewaitingformeintheshed.Shecouldbenosy,butshewasdefinitelynotasbadasmyhusband-to-be.“Heevenexpressedhissupporttomypursuingacareer.NowIjustneedtofigureoutwhatIwanttodo.I’mthinkingalawyerormaybeacop.”Thatlasttouchwaslayingitonthick.Myfatherhatedlawyersandcopsmorethanhehatedchildmolestersandatheists.Withillogicragethatburnedinhisblood.
I’dbeenmyparents’puppetforsolong,clippingthestringsfeltscaryandforbidden.IworelongskirtsanddressesIabsolutelydetestedbecausetheylikedthem.AttendedSundaymassregularlyeventhoughotherchurchgirlsusuallydislikedmeforhavingbetterclothesandnicershoes.Ievenrefrainedfromkissingboystoappeasemystrictfolks.Andwhatgooddiditdotome?Myfathersoldmeofftoasenator.Andmymother,despiteherdeeppainanddisappointment,washelplessagainsthim.Butthatdidnotstopherfromdiscouragingmetopursuethesamerouteasher.
Shedidn’twantmetostudyandgetajob.
Shewantedmetobeasstrandedasshewas.
“Isthisajoke?”Myfatherchokedonhisdrinkontheotherline.“Nodaughterofminewillwork
,”hespat.
“Yourfutureson-in-lawdoesn’tseemtosharethesentiment,”Isingsonged,momentarilyputtingmyhatredtowardWolfeaside.
“Francesca,youhavethebreeding,thebeauty,andthewealth.Youwerenotborntowork,VitaMia.You’rerichinyourownrightandmoresosinceyou’remarryingaKeaton
,”Mamacriedout.Ididn’tevenknowtheKeatonswereathingbeforeallthis.I’dneverbotheredtoaskanyone,leastofallmyfuturehusband,sincemoneywasthelastthingonmymind.
“I’mgoingtocollege.Unless…”Itwasacrazyidea,butitmadesense.Acunningsmiletouchedmylips,andmyeyesmetMs.Sterling’sfromacrossthegarden.Shegavemeabarelynoticeablenod.
“What?”myfathersnarled.
“UnlessyoutellmewhyyougaveWolfemyhand.ThenI’dconsidernotgoing.”MainlybecausethenI’dhavethefullpicture.IverymuchdoubtedIcouldchangemyfateatthispoint,butIwantedtoknowwhathe’dgottenmeintotoseeifIcoulddigmywayout.
Myfathersnorted,hisglacialtenorstabbingatmynerves.“Idonotdiscussmybusinesswithwomen,muchlessmyowndaughter.”
“What’swrongwithbeingawoman,Papa?”
YousureactedlikeapussythedayyougavemetoWolfeKeaton.
“Weplaydifferentroles,”heclipped.
“Andmineistomakebabiesandlookpretty?”
“Yoursistocontinuethelegacyofyourfamilyandleavethehardworkingjobstopeoplewhoneedthem.”
“Thissoundsalotlikeyoudon’trespectmeasanequal,”Ihissed,holdingthephonebetweenmyearandshoulderandstabbingthetrowelinthemudandwipingmyforeheadsimultaneously.
“That’sbecauseyou’renotmyequal,mydearFrankie.”
Thelinewentdeadontheotherside
Iplantedtwentypotsofflowersthatday.Thenwenttomyroom,tookashower,andstartedfillingoutmyapplicationtoNorthwestern.PoliticalScienceandLegalStudies,Idecided,wouldbemymajor.Inallfairness,Ialwaysthoughtgardeningwasmycalling,butsincemyfatherinfuriatedmetonoend,stickingmymajorinhisfacewasworthgoingthroughyearsandyearsofstudyingsomethingIdoubtedwouldinterestmemuch.IwasPettyMcPetson,butIwasgaininganeducation,anditfeltgood
Ihunchedovermyoakdeskwhensomethingintheairchanged.Ididn’thavetoliftmyheadtoknowwhatitwas.
Myfiancéwasheretocheckonhisprisonerbride.
“Youhaveyourfirstdressfittingtomorrow.Gotobed.”
Frommyperipheral,Icouldseehewasnotwearingasuit.AwhiteV-neckshirtthathighlightedhistan,leanbutmuscledbodyanddarkdenimthatclunglowonhisnarrowhips.Helookednothinglikeasenator,actednothinglikeapolitician,andthefactIcouldn’tboxhimthiswayortheotherunsettledme.
“I’mfillingoutmyapplicationtoNorthwestern,”Ireplied,feelingheatcoatingmyfaceandneckagain.Whydiditfeellikehedippedmeinliquidfireeverytimehiseyeswereonme?AndhowcouldImakeitstop?
“You’rewastingyourtime.”
Myheadsnappedup,andIgrantedhimtheeyecontacthe’dbeenlookingfor.
“Youpromised,”Igrowled.
“AndIshalldeliver.”Hepushedoffmydoorframeandsteppedintomyroom,saunteringtowardme.“Youdon’tneedtofilloutanapplication.Mypeoplehavealreadytakencareofthat.You’reabouttobecomeaKeaton.”
“AreKeatonstooprecioustofillouttheirowncollegeapplications?”Icouldbarelykeepmyselffromsnappingathim.
Hepluckedthedocumentsfrommydesk,balledandslam-dunkedtheminthetrashcanbymydesk.“Itmeansyoucould’vedrawndicksinallshapesandsizesonthedocument,andyou’dstillgetin.”
Ishotupfrommychair,puttingsomemuch-neededdistancebetweenus.Icouldn’triskanotherkiss.MylipsstillstungeverytimeIthoughtofhisrejection.
“Howdareyou!”Ithundered.
“Youseemtobeaskingthisquestionalot.Caretochangeyourtunealittle?”Heshovedonehandintothefrontpocketofhisjeansandpickedupmycellphoneonmydesk,scrollingthroughitwithhisthumbwitheasymonotony.Myparentsforbademefromhavingapasscode.Whenmymomgavemebackmyphone,protectingmyprivacywaslowonmyto-dolist,seeingasthemajorityofithadalreadybeentakenanyway.
“Whatareyoudoing?”Myvoiceturnedeerilycalmandshockedatthesametime.
Hiseyeswerestillonmyphone.“Goahead.Askagain.HowdareI,right?”
Iwastoostunnedtoformwords.Themanwasasavageinasuit.Hetauntedandaggravatedmeateveryturn.Myfatherwasastubbornjerk,butthisguy…this
guywasthedevilwhoreturnedtomynightmareseverynight.Hewashellwrappedinaheavenlyruggedmask.Hewasfire.Gorgeoustotheeye,lethaltothetouch.
“Givememyphonerightnow.”Ithrewmyopenpalminhisdirection.Hewavedadismissivehandmyway,stillreadingmytextmessages.Angelo’s
textmessages.
“Youcan’tdothat.”Ilaunchedathim,raisingmyarmstoreachthephone.Heraisedhisarm,grabbedmebythewaistwithhisotherhand,capturingbothmywristsandplasteringmyhandstohislowerstomachoverhisshirt.
“Move,andyou’llseewhatyourangerdoestome.Afriendlyhint:itthrillsmeandinmorewaysthanyou’dliketoknow.”
Apartofmewantedtodefyhimsohewould
pushmyhandsdown.I’dnevertouchedamandowntherebefore,andtheideaofitexcitedme.Mylifewasalreadyinshambles.MymoralswerethelastthingsI’dclungto,andfrankly,myfingersweretiredfromholdingthem.
Imovedonprincipal,andhesmirked,scrollingdownmytextsandtighteninghisholdonmywrists.Hedidn’tmakegoodonhispromisetoputmyhandsonhismanhood.
“Areyougoingtoanswerlover-boy?”heaskedconversationally.
“Noneofyourbusiness.”
“You’reabouttobecomemywife.Everythingaboutyouismybusiness.EspeciallyboyswithblueeyesandsmilesIdon’ttrust.”
Hedroppedmyhands,pocketedmyphone,andcockedhishead,scanningmethroughhisscorn.Iwantedtocry.Afteryesterday’shumiliation,notonlydidhenotapologize,buthealsotauntedmetwicetoday—bothbythrowingmyapplicationinthetrashandbyreadingthroughmymessages.
HeconfiscatedmyphoneasthoughIwashisdaughter.
“Myphone,Wolfe.Giveit.”Itookastepback.Iwantedtohurthimsobad,ithurttobreathe.Hestaredmedown,calmandquiet.
“OnlyifyoudeleteBandinifromyourcontacts.”
“He’sachildhoodfriend.”
“Outofcuriosity,doyoufuckallyourchildhoodfriends?”
Iflashedhimasugarysmile,“AfraidI’llrunoffandhavesexwithAngeloagain?”
Thetipofhistonguedartedouttolickhislowerlipsinisterly,“Me?No.Butheshouldbe.Unless,ofcourse,hewantshisdickcutoff.”
“Yousoundlikeamobster,notafuturepresident.”Ijuttedmychinout.
“Botharepositionsofextremepowerexecuteddifferently.You’dbesurprisedhowmanythingstheyhaveincommon.”
“Stopjustifyingyouractions,”Isaid.
“Stopfightingyourfate.You’renotdoingyourfatheranyfavors.Evenhewantsyoutosubmit.”
“Howdoyouknowthat?”
“OneofhisMagnificentMilepropertiescaughtfirethismorning.FiftykilogramsofcocainestraightfromEurope—poof!
Gone.Hecan’tcontacttheinsuranceuntilhecleansuptheevidence,andbythen,they’llfigureouthetamperedwiththescene.Hejustlostmillions.”
“Youdidthat,”Iaccused,narrowingmyeyesathim.Heshrugged.
“Drugskill.”
“Youdidthatsothey’dtellmeoff,”Isaid.
Helaughed.“Sweetheart,you’reanuisanceatbestandentirelynotworththerisk.”
BeforeIslappedhim—orworse—Istormedoutside,myangerfollowingmelikeashadow.Icouldn’tleavethehousesinceIdidn’thaveacaroranywheretogo,butIwantedtodisappear.Iranouttothepavilion,whereIbrokedown,fallingtomykneesandbawlingmyeyesout.
Icouldn’ttakeitanymore.ThecombinationofmyfatherbeingatyrantandWolfetryingtoruinmyfamily’sandmylifewastoomuch.Irestedmyheadagainstthecoolwhitewoodofthebench,wailingsoftlyasIfeltthefightleavingmybody.
Acalminghandcaressingmyback.IwasafraidtoturnaroundeventhoughIknewinmygutthatWolfewouldneverseekmeoutandtrytomakethingsbetter.
“Doyouneedyourgloves?”ItwasMs.Sterling,hervoicesoftlikecotton.Ishookmyheadbetweenmyarms.
“Youknow,heisjustasconfusedanddisorientedbyyoursituation.Onlydifferenceishe’shadyearsofperfectinghowtohidehisemotions.”
Iappreciatedhertryingtohumanizemyfiancéinmyeyes,butithardlyworked.
“IhadthepleasureofraisingWolfe.Hewasalwaysacleverboy.Healwaysworehisangeronhissleeve.”Hervoiceranglikebellsasshedrewlazycirclesonmyback,likemymomusedtodowhenIwasyoung.Ikeptquiet.Ididn’tcarethatWolfehadhisownbaggage.I’ddonenothingtodeservehistreatment.
“Youneedtoweatherthestorm,mydear.Ithinkyou’llfind,afteryouradjustmentperiod,thatyoutwoaresoexplosivetogetherbecauseyoufinallymetyourchallengesinoneanother.”Shesatonthebenchaboveme,removingtracesofmyhairfrommyface.Ilookedupandblinkedather.
“Idon’tthinkanythingcanscareSenatorKeaton.”
“Oh,you’dbesurprised.Ithinkyougivehimahealthydoseofthingstoworryabout.Hedidnotexpectyoutobeso…you
.”
“Whatdoesthatmean?”
Herfacewrinkledassheconsideredhernextwords.SeeingasWolfehadobviouslyhiredherbecausehefeltattachedtoherafterraisinghim,Iatleasthadthehopeinbelievingthatoneday,he’dwarmuptome,too.
Sheofferedmeherhands,andwhenItookthem,shesurprisedmebypullingmeupandstandingupatthesametime,drawingmeinforahug.Wewereboththesameheight—tiny—andshewasevenscrawnierthanme.Shespokeagainstmyhair.
“Ithinkyourlovestorystartedoffonthewrongfoot,butitwillbemagnificentpreciselybecauseofthat.WolfeKeatonhaswalls,butyou’realreadystartingtobreakthem.Heisfightingit,andyou.WouldyoulikethesecrettodisarmingWolfeKeaton,mydeargirl?”
Iwasn’tsurehowtoanswerthat.BecauseapartofmesincerelyfearedthatIwouldtearhimtoshredsgiventheopportunity.AndIwouldn’tbeabletolivewithmyselfknowingI’dhurtsomeonesoprofoundly.
“Yes,”Iheardmyselfsay.
“Love
him.Hewillbedefenselessagainstyourlove.”
Withthat,Ifeltherbodydisconnectingfrommine,andsheretreatedtotheglassdoors,thevastmansionswallowingherfigure.Itookadeepbreath.
Themanhadjustdestroyedabuildinginwhichmyfatherprocesseddrugs.Andhalf-admittedittome.Thatwasmoreinformationthanmyfathereverofferedoradmittedto.Healsoletmegotoschool.HealsoallowedmetoleavewheneverIpleased.
Iglancedatmywristwatch.Itwastwointhemorning.Somehow,I’dspenttwohoursinthegarden.TwohoursWolfemust’vespentreadingthrougheverymessageI’deverreceived.
Thelate-nightchillwasseepingintomybones.Dejected,Iturnedtoheadbackintothehouse.WhenI’dmademywaybackinside,IspottedWolfestandingonthethresholdoftheopendoor.Hehadonearmproppedagainstitsframe,blockingmefromgettingin.Itookmeasuredstepstowardhim.
IstoppedwhenIwasafootaway.
“Givememyphoneback,”Isaid.Tomysurprise,hereachedintohisbackpocketandtosseditintomyhands.Iclutcheditinmyfist,stillreelingfromourlatestfightbutalsooddlytouchedbythefacthestayedawakeandwaitedforme.Hestartedhisdaysatfiveinthemorning,afterall.
“You’reinmyway.”Irustled,tryingtokeepmyteethfromchattering.
Hestaredatmeblankly.
“Pushmeaway.Fightforwhatyouwant,Francesca.”
“Ithoughtthat’swhatmadeusenemies.”Avicioussmilefoundmylips.“BecauseIwanttobreakfreefromyou.”
Itwashisturntosmirk.
“Wantingandfightingaretwodifferentthings.Oneispassive,theotheractive.Areweenemies,Nemesis?”
“Whatelsecanwebe?”
“Allies.I’llscratchyourback.You’llscratchmine.”
“I’mallfornottouchingyoueveragainafterlastnight.”
Heshrugged.“Youmight’vebeenmorebelievableifyouhadn’tgrindedonmebeforeIkickedyououtofmybedroom.Atanyrate,you’rewelcometocomein.ButIwon’tbemakingiteasyforyou,unlessyougivemeyourwordBandiniisdeletedfromyourphoneand
yourlife.”
Igotwhyhedidthat.Hecouldhavedoneithimself,buthewantedittocomefromme.Hedidn’twantanotherbattle—hewantedmycompletesurrender.
“Angelowillalwaysbeinmylife.Wegrewuptogether,andjustbecauseyouboughtmedoesn’tmeanyouownme,”Isaidevenlyeventhoughreally,IhadnointentionofrespondingtoAngelo’stexts.MoresosinceI’dheardthathewasgoingonaseconddatewiththevileEmily.
“ThenI’mafraidyou’llhavetoshowsomeofyourtemperandfightme.”
“CanIaskyousomething?”Irubbedmyforeheadtiredly.
“Certainly.WhetherI’llanswerornotisacompletelydifferentstory.”Hissmirkgrewmoresmugandmocking.
“What’syourleverageovermyfather?Heobviouslyhatesyourguts,yethewon’tclaimmeback,evenafterItoldhimI’mgoingtocollege.That’dputahugestrainonhisreputationaspeoplewillknowthatIamgoingagainsthiswish.Itmustbequitesubstantial,then,ifhe’dratherhavemeinyourbedthanhaveyou
dishoutthegoodsonhim.”
Iscannedhisface,expectinghimtorebukeandbelittlemeasmyfatherhaddoneearlierthatday.
Wolfesurprisedmeagain.
“WhateverIhaveonhimcouldtakeawayeverythinghe’sworkedfor,nottomentionthrowhiminjailfortherestofhismiserablelife.Butyourfatherdidn’tthrowyoutothedogs.Hetrustsmenottohurtyou.”
“Isthatfoolishofhim?”Ilookedup.
Wolfe’smusculararmflexedunderhisshirt.Abarelyvisiblemovement.
“I’mnotamonster.”
“Could’vefooledme.Justtellmewhy?”Iwhispered,theairrattlinginmylungs.“Whydoyouhatehimsomuch?”
“That’stwoquestions.Gotobed.”
“Moveoutoftheway.”
“Accomplishmentsaresomuchmorerewardingwhenobstaclesareintheway.Fightme,darling
.”
Isnuckunderhisarm,duckingintothehouseandlaunchingforthestaircase.Hecaughtmebythewaistinoneswiftmovement,pullingmeintohisarmsandplasteringmeagainsthisstrongchest.Hisknucklestraileddownthelengthofmyspine,andgoosebumpsburstallovermyskin.Hislipsfoundmyear,hotandsoftincontrasttotheharshmantheybelongedto,hisbreathticklingmyhair.“MaybeIamthemonster.Afterall,Icomeouttoplayatnight.Butsodoyou,littleone.You’reoutinthedarkness,too.”BLOWINGUP
ARTHUR’SPROPERTYSLASH
methlab—andthecokewithit—wasjustanotherTuesday.Theworkofsaintswasdonethroughothers,andminehaddefinitelybeentakencareof.
ThenextfourdayswerespentbendingWhite’sandBishop’sarmsuntiltheysnappedandagreedtoassignoverfivehundredadditionalcopstobeondutyatanygiventimetoprotectthestreetsofChicagofromthemessI’dcreated.Itwasgoingtoblowupthebilltothesky,butitwasn’tthestateofIllinoisthatwasgoingtoshelloutthemoney.ThemoneywassittingfirmlyinWhite’sandBishop’spockets.
Moneygivenbymyfuturefather-in-law.
Who,bytheway,changedhistunefromtryingtocoaxhisdaughterintowarminguptomeanddecidedtorepaymebythrowinghundredsofpoundsoftrashinparksacrossChicago.Hecouldn’tdomuchmorethanthat,consideringallthejuiceIhadonhim.Iwasapowerplayer.Touchingwhatwasmine—evenscratchingmycar—camewithaheftypricetagandwouldawardhimmoreunneededattentionfromtheFBI.
Ihadthetrashpickedupbyvolunteersandthrownintohisgarden.Thatwaswhenthephonecallsbegantopourin.Dozensofthem.Likeaneedy,drunkex-girlfriendonValentine’sDay.Ididn’tpickup.Iwasasenator.Hewasahighlyconnectedmobster.Icouldmarryhisdaughter,butIwouldn’tlistentowhathehadtosay.Myjobwastocleanthestreetshesoiledwithdrugs,guns,andblood.
Imadeapointtobeathomeaslittleaspossible,whichwasn’tveryhardbetweenflyingouttoSpringfieldandDCfrequently.
Francescawasstilladamantabouthavingherdinnersinherroom(notthatIcared).Shedid,however,fulfillhercommitmentsasfarascake-tasting,tryingondresses,anddoingalltheotherbullshitweddingplanningI’ddumpedonher(not
thatImindedifsheshowedupinagoddamnoversizednapkin).Ididn’tcareformyfiancée’saffection.AsfarasIwasconcerned,withtheexceptionofamendingtheno-fucking-other-peopleclausebeforemyballsfelloff,shecouldliveonhersideofthehouse—orbetteryet,acrosstown—untilherlastbreath.
Onthefifthday,afterdinner,IburiedmyselfinpaperworkinmyofficewhenSterlingsummonedmetothekitchen.Itwaswellpasteleveno’clock,andSterlingknewbetterthantointerruptmeingeneral,soIfigureditwasofcriticalimportance.
LastthingIneededwashearingthatNemesiswasplanninganescape.ItseemedlikeFrancescahadfinallyrealizedshedidn’thaveanoutfromthisarrangement.
Idescendedthestairs.WhenIreachedthelanding,thesmellofsugar,bakeddough,andchocolatewaftedfromthekitchen.Sweet,sticky,andnostalgicinawaythatslicedthroughyourbodylikeaknife.Istoppedatthethresholdandexaminedtiny,fierceSterlingassheservedasimplechocolatecakewithforty-sixcandlesonthelongdiningtable.Herhandswereshaking.ShewipedthemonherstainedaprontheminuteIwalkedin,refusingeyecontact.
Webothknewwhy.
“Romeo’sbirthday,”shemumbledunderherbreath,hurryingtothesinktowashherhands.
Iambledin,draggedoverachair,andsankintoit,watchingthecakeasifitwasmyopponent.Iwasn’tparticularlysentimentalandexceptionallybadwithrememberingdates,whichwasjustaswellasallmyfamilymembersweredead.Theirdeathdates,however,Iremembered.
Ialsorememberedthecauseoftheirdeaths.
Sterlinghandedmeaplateonwhichshe’dpiledenoughcaketoclogatoiletbowl.IwastornbetweenthankingherforpayingherrespectstothepersonIlovedthemostandyellingatherforremindingmethatmyhearthadaholethesizeofArthurRossi’sfist.Isettledforstuffingmymouthwiththecakewithouttastingit.Sugarconsumptionwasnotahabitofmine,butitseemedexcessivelyspitefulnottotakeabiteaftershewentthroughsomuchtrouble.
“Hewouldhavebeenproudofyouifhewerealive.”Sheloweredherselfontotheseatinfrontofmine,wrappingherhandsaroundasteamycupofherbaltea.Mybackwastothekitchendoor.Shefacedit—andme.Istabbedaforkintomycake,unfoldingthelayersofthechocolateandsugarliketheywereahumangut,diggingharderwitheachmotion
“Wolfe,lookatme.”
Idraggedmyeyestoherface,pacifyingherforareasonbeyondmygrasp.Itwasnotinmynaturetobeniceandcordial.Butsomethinginthatdemandedanemotionfrommethatwasn’tdisdain.Hereyeswidened,dottedsky-blue.Shewastryingtotellmesomething.
“Begentlewithher,Wolfe.”
“Thatwouldgiveherfalsehopethatwhatwehaveisreal,andthat’sentirelytoocruel,evenbymystandards,”Idrawled,pushingthecakeacrossthetable.
“She’slonely.She’syoung,isolated,andfrightenedtothebone.You’retreatingherlikeanenemybeforesheevenletsyoudown.Allsheknowsaboutyouisthatyou’reapowerfulman,youhateherfamily,anddon’twantanythingtodowithher.Yetyoumadeitclearthatyou’llneverlethergo.
“Sheisaprisoner,”shefinishedsimply.“Foracrimeshedidnotcommit.”
“It’scalledcollateral.”Ilacedmyfingersbehindmyheadandsatback.“Andit’snotverydifferentfromthelifeshewouldhaveledwithanyoneelse.WiththeexceptionthatunlikethemajorityofMadeMen,I’dspareherthelieswhenIcheatedonher.”
SterlingwincedasthoughI’dstruckheracrosstheface.Shethenleanedacrossthetableandtookmyhandinhers.Ittookeverythinginmenottowithdraw.Ihatedtouchingpeopleinanycapacityinwhichmycockwasn’tinoneoftheirholes,andSterlingwasthelastpersonontheentireplanetI’dfuck.Nottomention,Iparticularlydislikeditwhensheexhibitedherfeelingsopenly.Itwasinappropriateandwayoutofherjobdescription.
“Choosingsomethingdoomedandbeingforcedintoitaretwoverydifferentthings.Showinghermercywillnotweakenyou.Ifanything,itwillassureheryou’reconfidentinyourpower.”
ShesoundedlikeOprah.
“Whatdoyouhaveinmind?”Isneered.IfIcouldthrowmoneyatFrancescaandsendheroffonashoppingspreeinEuropetospendsometimewithhercousinAndreaandgetheroutofmyhair,Iwoulddoitinaheartbeat.Atthispoint,IevenconsideredCaboasanoption.Itwasstillonthesamecontinent,butfarenoughawayfromhere.
“Takehertoherparents.”
“Haveyoubeendrinking?”Istaredatherblankly.Ihopednot.Sterlingandalcoholwerealethalcombination.
“Whynot?”
“BecausethereasonI’mcelebratingRomeo’sbirthdaywithout
Romeo’spresenceisduetoherfather.”
“Sheisnot
herfather!”Sterlingdarteduptoherfeet.Herpalmcrashedonthetable,producinganexplosivesoundIdidn’tknowshewascapableof.Theforkonmyplaterattledandflewacrossthetable.
“Hisbloodisrunningthroughherveins.That’scontaminatedenoughforme,”Isaiddrily.
“Butnotenoughtopreventyoufromwantingtotouchher,”shetaunted.
Ismiled.“Taintingwhat’shiswouldbeanicebonus.”
Istood.Avasefelltothegroundbehindme,nodoubtknockeddownbymyfuturewife.Barefeetjoggedacrossthedarkwoodenfloors,pitter-pattering
astheyslappedthestairsonherwaybacktoherwing.IleftSterlinginthekitchentostewinherangerandfollowedmybride-to-beupwithdeliberateleisure.IstoppedonthecleftbetweenthewestandtheeastwingwhenIreachedthetopfloor,beforedecidingtoretirebacktomyoffice.Nopointintryingtopacifyher.
Atthreeinthemorning,afteransweringeveryemailpersonally,includingreplyingtoconcernedcitizensaboutthestateofIllinois’tomatoes,IdecidedtocheckonNemesis.IhatedthatshewasanightowlsinceIhadtowakeupeverydayatfour,butsheseemedtolikegettingoutofthecoopatnighttime.Knowingmyquirkybride-to-be,itwasnotoutofquestionforhertotrytoescapehercage.Shecertainlymadeahabitofrattlingthebars.Istrolledtoherroomandpushedthedooropenwithoutknocking.Theroomwasempty.
Ragebegantocourseinsidemyveins,andIbitdownonacurse.Imovedtoherwindow,andsureenough,shewasdownstairs,acigarettedanglingfromthecornerofherpink,poutymouth,weedingavegetablegardenthatwasn’ttherebeforeIthrewherintheeastwingandlefthertoherowndevices.
“Withalittlebitofhope,andalotoflove,youwillmakeittowinter,”shetoldthe…radishes?Andwasshetalkingaboutherselforthem?Herconversingwithvegetableswasanewanddisturbingtwistinheralreadyawkwardpersonality.
“Begoodforme,okay?Becausehewon’t.”
Youhardlymakethecutforfiancéeoftheyeareither,Nem.
“Doyouthinkhe’devertellmewhosebirthdayitwas?”Shecroucheddown,fingeringthelettuceheads.
No,hewon’t.
“Yeah,Idon’tthinkso,either.”Shesighed.“But,anyway,youdrinksomewater.I’llcomecheckonyoutomorrowmorning.Forlackofanythingbettertodo.”Shechuckled,risingupandputtinghercigaretteoutagainstawoodenpassageway.
NemhadbeensendingSmithytobuyherapackaday.Imadeamentalnotetotellherthewifeofasenatorwasnotallowedtopufflikeachimneyinpublic.
Iwaitedafewmoments,thenmademywaytothecorridor,expectingthebalconydoorstoslideopenandtocatchhergoingupthestairs.Afterwaitingforlongminutes—somethingIdespiseddoingwitheveryboneinmybody—Idescendedthestairs,makingmywaytotheterrace.Herdisappearingactwasgratingonmynerves.First,shebrokeRomeo’spicture,andnow,shesnoopedaroundandtalkedtoherfuturesalad.Ipushedthebalconydoorsopen,readytoroarathertogotobed,whenIfoundheratthefarendofthegarden.Shewasintheopen,secondshedwherewekeptourtrashcans.Great.Shewastalkingtogarbage,now,too.
Imademywaytoher,noticingthatleaveswerenolongercrunchingundermyloafers.Thegardenwasinmuchbettershape.Shehadherbacktome,bendingintooneofthegreenrecyclingcans,surroundedbygarbage.TherewasnowaytosugarcoatwhatIwasseeinghere.Shewasgoingthroughthetrash.
Iwalkedintheopendoor,leaningagainstitwithmyhandsstuffedinsidemyfrontpockets.Iwatchedasshesortedthroughbagsoftrash,thenclearedmythroat,makingmyselfknown.Shejumped,gasping.
“Lookingforasnack?”
Sheplacedapalmonherchestoverherheartandshookherhead.
“Ijust…Ms.SterlingsaidthattheclothesthatI…uh…”
“Ruined?”Ioffered.
“Yeah,they’restillhere.Someofthem,anyway.”Shegesturedtotheheapsofclothesatherfeet.“They’regoingtosendthemtocharitytomorrow.Mostoftheitemsaresalvageable.So,Ifigured,iftheclothesarestillhere,thenmaybe…”
Thepicturewasstillhere.
ShewastryingtosaveRomeo’spicturewithoutknowingwhohewas,afterseeingSterlingandmecelebratinghisbirthday.Shedidn’tknowthatshewouldn’tfindit—IaskedSterling,whoconfirmedthatthebatchwiththepicturehadbeenalreadytakenaway.Irakedahandovermyface.Iwantedtokicksomething.Surprisingly—shewasn’tthatsomething.Heartacheandregretetchedherfaceassheturnedaroundandlookedatmewitheyesrawwithemotion.Sheunderstoodshenotonlyrippedfabric—fuck
thefabric—butalsosomethingdeepinsideme.Tearshungonhereyelashes.ItstruckmeasironicthatI’dspentmyentireadultlifechoosingcold-blooded,unsentimentalwomenformyflings,onlytogetmarriedtoacompletewuss.
“Leaveitalone.”Iwavedheroff.“Idon’tneedyourpity,Nemesis.”
“I’mnottryingtogiveyoupity,Villain.I’mtryingtogiveyoucomfort.”
“Idon’twantthat,either.Idon’twantanythingfromyou,otherthanyourobedience,andmaybe,downtheroad,yourpussy.”
“Whymustyoubesocrass?”Tearsmadehereyesshimmer.Shewasacrier,too.Couldwebeanylesscompatible?Ididn’tthinkso.
“Whymustyoubesuchanemotionaltrainwreck?”Irespondedcurtly,pushingoffthedoorandgettingreadytoleave.“Wearewhoweare.”
“Wearewhowechoosetobe,”shecorrected,throwingapieceofclothingatherfeet.“Andunlikeyou,Ichoosetofeel
.”
“Gotobed,Francesca.We’regoingtovisityourparentstomorrow,andI’dappreciateyouhangingonmyarmwithoutlookinglikeshit.”
“Weare?”Hermouthhungopen.
“Weare.”
Myversionofacceptingherapology.
MyversionoflettingherknowIwasn’tamonster.
Notthatnight,anyway.
Thenightthatmarkedthebirthdayofthemanwhotaughtmehowtobegood,andasahomage,Iallowedthisonesmallcrackinmyshield,givingherahintofwarmth.
Mydeadbrotherwasagoodman.
Butme?Iwasagreatvillain.“JUSTTELLMEWHOIT
was.Anex-girlfriend?Amissingcousin?Who?Who!
”IprobedMs.Sterlingthenextdaybetweentendingtomyvegetablegarden,chain-smoking,andlookingthroughthetrashforthebrokenpicture—theonethingmyfuturehusbandcaredabout,andIsomehowmanagedtoruin.
Iwasmetwithstern,snippyanswers.Sheexplained,betweenhuffsandphonecalls,barkingatthecleaningcompanyonceagain,thatifIwantedtolearnmoreaboutWolfe’slife,Ineededtoearnhistrust.
“Earnhistrust?Ican’tevenearnasmilefromhim.”
“Haveyouactuallytriedmakinghimsmile?”Shesquinted,checkingmyfaceforlies.
“ShouldIhave?Hepracticallykidnappedme.”
“Healsosavedyoufromyourparents.”
“Ididn’twanttobesaved!”
“Twothingspeopleshouldbegratefulforwithoutasking—loveandtobesaved.Youareofferedboth.Yet,mydear,youseemquiteungracious.”
Ms.Sterling,Ideduced,wasseniletothebone.ShesoundedsodifferentfromthewomanwhopersuadedmyfuturehusbandtoshowmemercyyesterdaywhenIeavesdroppedonthem.Isawthroughhergame.Tryingtodefrostustowardoneanotherwhilealwaysplayingthedevil’sadvocate.
Ithoughtshewaswastinghertime.Onbothends.
Still,bickeringwithMs.Sterlingwasthebestpartofmyday.SheshowedmorepassionandinvolvementinmylifethanWolfeandmyfathercombined.
MyfiancéandIweretoarriveatmyparents’houseatsixo’clockfordinner.Ourfirstdinnerasanengagedcouple.Ms.SterlingsaidthatshowingmyfolksIwashappyandtakencareofwasoftheessence.Sheaidedmewiththepreparations,helpingmeslideintoayellowmaxisummerchiffondressandmatchingJimmyChoosandaledheels.Whenshefixedmyhairinfrontofthemirror,itdawnedonmethatourlightbanterabouttheweather,myloveforhorses,andherloveforromancebooksremindedmealotofmyconnectionwithClara.Somethingthatfeltalotlikehopestartedbloominginmychest.Havingafriendwouldmakelivingheresomuchmorebearable.Mynewbeau,ofcourse,must’vesensedmycautiousoptimismbecausehedecidedtocrushandburnitbysendingmeatextmessage:
Willbelate.Meetyouthere.Nopullingtricks,Nem.
Hecouldn’tevenshowupontimetoourfirstdinnerwithmyparents.And,ofcourse,hestillthoughtI’dtrytorunawaysomehow.
Heatbubbledinmyveinsthroughoutthedrive.TheblackEscaladepulleduptomyparents’curb,andMamaandClarahurriedoutside,showeringmewithhugsandkissesasifI’djustreturnedfromawarzone.Myfatherwasstandingatthedoorwayinhissharpsuit,frowningatmynearingfigureasIlacedmyarmswiththewomenofmyformerhouseholdaswewalkedin.Idaren’tmeethiseyes.WhenItookthefourstepsuptoourentrancedoor,hemerelymovedasidetoletmepass,notofferingmeahug,akiss,orevenapleasantry.
Ilookedtheotherway.Ourshouldersbrushed,anditfeltlikehisslicedminewithitsrigid,icystance.
“Youlookbeautiful,VitaMia,”Mamabreathedbehindme,pullingatthehemofmydress.
“Freedomagreeswithme,”Ibitoutbitterly,mybacktoPapaasIwenttothediningroomandpouredmyselfaglassofwinebeforeWolfearrived.
Thenexthourwasspentmakingidleconversationwithmymotherwhilemyfathernursedaglassofbrandyandstaredmedownfromacrosstheroom.Claracameandwentoutofthesalon,providingrefreshmentsandzeppoletocurbourhunger.
“Somethingsmells.”Iscrunchedmynose.
“Thatwouldbeyourfiancé,”myfathersaid,sittingbackinhisexecutivechair.Mymotherlaughedoffhiswords.
“Wehadabitofanincidentinthebackyard.It’sfinenow.”
Anotherhourvanished,washedawaybyastreamofwordsasmymotherbroughtmyfatherandmeuptodatewithallthelatestgossipregardingthedesperatehousewivesofTheOutfit.Whogotmarriedandwhogotdivorced.Whowascheatingandwhowasbeingcheatedon.Angelo’slittlebrotherwantedtoproposetohisgirlfriend,butMikeBandini,hisfather,thoughtittobeaproblematicannouncement,especiallyasAngelodidn’thaveanyprospectstomarryanyoneanytimesoon.Thankstome
Mombitherlowerlipwhensherealizeditsoundedalotlikeanaccusation,fiddlingwiththehemofhersleeve.Shedidthatalot.Ichuckedittoherlowself-esteemafteryearsofbeingmarriedtomyfather.
“Ofcourse,Angelowillmoveon.”Sheswattedtheair.
“Thinkbeforeyouspeak,Sofia.Itwouldserveyouwell,”headvised.
Whenthegrandfatherclockchimedforthesecondtimethatevening—announcingitwaseighto’clock—wemovedtothediningroomandbegantoeatourstarters.IdidnotmakeanyexcusesforWolfesinceallmytextmessagestohimwentunanswered.Myheartwassoggywithshameanddrenchedwithdisappointmentatthehumiliationofbeingstoodupbythemanwhorippedmefrommyfamily.
Thethreeofusatewithourheadsboweddown.Theclinkingofthesaltandpeppershakersandutensilsunbearablyloudagainstthesilenceintheroom.Myminddriftedbacktothenotesinthewoodenbox.Ihaddecidedthatthiswasallamistake.SenatorKeatoncouldn’tbetheloveofmylife.
Thehateofmylife?Absolutely.
Anythingmorethanthatwasastretch.
WhenClaraservedusthereheatedentreesshortlybeforethedoorbellrang,insteadoffeelingrelieved,moredreadpouredintome,heavylikelead.Thethreeofusputourforksdownandexchangedglances.Whatnow?
“Well,then!That’sapleasantsurprise.”Mamaclappedherhandsonce.
“Nomorethancancer.”Myfatherpattedthesidesofhismouthwithanapkin.
Wolfecameinashortminutelaterinatailoredsuit,blackravenhairtousledtoafault,andapurposefulexpressionthatflirtedwithmenace.
“SenatorKeaton,”Papasneered,notlookingupfromhisdishofhomemadelasagna.“Iseeyoufinallydecidedtograceuswithyourpresence.”
Wolfedroppedacasualkissonthecrownofmyhead,andIhatedthewaysilkensatinwrappedaroundmyheartandsqueezeditwithdelight.Idespisedhimforbeingsolateandcarelessandmyselfforfoolishlymeltingjustbecauseofthewayhislipsfeltonmyhair.Myfatherwatchedthescenefromthecornerofhiseye,onesideofhismouthupturnedinamusedsatisfaction.
You’remiserable,Francesca,aren’tyou?
Hiseyestaunted.
Yes,Papa.Yes,Iam.Goodjob.
“Whattookyousolong?”Iwhisper-shouted,bumpingWolfe’shardthighwithmyownunderneaththetableashetookaseat.
“Business,”heclipped,flappinghisnapkinoverhislapinawhip-sharpmovementandtakingageneroussipofhiswine.
“So,notonlydoyouworkallday,”myfatherlaunchedintotheconversationinfullswing,sittingbackandknottinghisfingerstogetheronthetable,“butyou’resendingoffmydaughtertocollegenow.Areyouplanningonprovidinguswithgrandchildrenanytimethisdecade?”heinquiredflatly,notgivingadamnthiswayortheother.Isawthroughmyfather’sbehaviorandknewwithoutashadowofadoubtthiswasnotonlyaboutmycollegeeducation.
Inthetimethatpassedbetweenmyleavingthehouseandnow,he’dhadthechancetoprocesseverything.
WolfeKeaton’sfuturechildren,nomatterhowmuchoftheRossibloodranintheirveins,wouldneverinheritPapa’sbusiness.SenatorKeatonwouldnotletithappen.Andso,mymarriagetoWolfenotonlykilledhisdreamofaperfectlittledaughterraisingbeautiful,well-behaved,ruthlesschildren,butitalsokilledhislegacy.Myfatherwasslowlybeginningtodisconnectfrommeemotionallytoprotecthisownheartfromhurting,yethewasbreakingminetopiecesintheprocess.
MygazedartedtoWolfe,whoglancedathisCartier,visiblywaitingfordinnertobeover.
“Askyourdaughter.She’sinchargeofherschoolschedule.And
herwomb.”
“Quitetrue,tomyutterdisappointment.Womenneedreal
mentotellthemwhattheywant.Lefttotheirowndevices,theyareboundtomakerecklessmistakes.”
“Real
mendon’tshitbrickswhentheirwivesgainhighereducationandthebasicpowertosurvivewithoutthem,pardonmylanguage.”Wolfechewedamouthfuloflasagna,signalingmewithhishandtopasshimthepepper.Hewasinhostileterritory,lookingascoolasacucumber.
“Alrighty,now,”Mamachortled,tappingmyfather’shandfromacrossthetable.“Hasanyoneheardthelatestgossipaboutthegovernor’swife’slatestfacelift?Wordaroundtownisshelookspermanentlysurprisedandnotbyhistaxscandal.”
“Whatwillyoubestudying,Francesca?”Papaturnedhisattentiontome,cuttingintoMama’sspeech.“Surely,youdon’tactuallybelieveyoucanbecomealawyer.”
Iaccidentallydroppedmyforkontomylasagna.Smallsplashesoftomatoflewonmyyellowdress.Idabbedatthestainswithanapkin,swallowingapoolofsalivathatgatheredinmymouth.
“Youcan’teveneatadamnmealwithoutmakingamess,”myfatherpointedout,stabbinghislasagnawithunabashedviolence.
“That’sbecausemyfatherisbelittlingmeinfrontofmyfiancéandmother.”Isquaredmyshoulders.“NotbecauseI’mincapable.”
“YouareofaverageIQ,Francesca.Youcanbecomealawyerbutprobablynotagoodone.Andyouhaven’tworkedadayinyourlife.Youwouldmakealazyinternandgetfired.Wastingeveryone’stimeandresources,includingyourown.Nottomention,theopportunityyou’dreceivebeingSenatorKeaton’swifecouldgotosomeonewhoactuallydeservesthejob.NepotismisAmerica’snumber-onedisease.”
“Ithoughtthatwasorganizedcrime,”Wolfecommented,takinganothersipofhiswine.
“Andyou.”Myfatherlookedatmyfuturehusbandwithanexpressionthatwouldhavestapledmetothewallhaditbeendirectedatme,yetmyhusbandstayedaloofasever.“Iwouldstronglyadvisethatyoustopyourantics.Yougotwhatyouwanted.MayIremindyouthatIcamefromnothing?I’mnotgoingtositaroundandwatchyouruinallIhave.I’maveryresourcefulman.”
“Threatnoted.”Wolfechuckled.
“SoIshouldjuststayathomeandpopoutbabies?”Ipushedmyplateaway,fedupwiththefood,conversation,andcompany.Mymother’sgazeping-pongedamongeveryone,hereyeswideassaucers.Itwasallabigmess,andIwasinthemiddleofit.
Myfatherthrewhisnapkinoverhisplatetosignaltotheservantsthathewasdone.Twoofthemrushedovertoclearhisplate,noddingandnoddingandnodding.
Scared.
“That’dbeagoodstart.Although,withahusbandlikeyours,Godknows.”
“Ahusbandyou
chose.”Ispearedsomethingwithmyfork,imaginingitwashisheart.
“BeforeIknewhewasgoingtomakeyougooutandworklikesomekindof…”
“Twenty-firstcenturywoman?”Ifinishedforhim,myeyebrowsjumpingtomyhairline.Wolfechuckledintohiswineglassnexttome,hisquakingshoulderbrushingmine.
Myfatherknockeddownhisdrink,thenfolloweditbytoppinghisglasstothehilt.Hisnosegrewredderandrounder,hischeekspinkingundertheyellowhuesofthechandelierlight.Myfatheralwaysdrankresponsibly.Hedidn’ttonight.
“Yourboardingschoolwasanexpensive,elaboratedaycarefortherichandconnected.YourdoingwellinSwitzerlandisnoindicationyoucansurvivetherealworld.”
“That’sbecauseyoushelteredmefromtherealworld.”
“No,that’sbecauseyoucan’thandle
therealworld.”Hegrabbedhisfullglassofwineandtosseditacrosstheroom.Theglassbrokeintotinypiecesasithitthewall,theredwinespreadingonthecarpetsandwallpaperlikeblood.
Wolfestood,bracedhishandsoverthetable,andleanedforward,staringPapaintheeye.Theworldceasedtospin,andeveryoneintheroomseemedtoappearsignificantlysmaller,holdingtheirbreathandstaringatmyfiancé.Theairflutteredbehindmylungs.
“Thisisthelasttimeyouraiseyourvoicetomyfiancée,nottomentionthrowthingsaroundlikeapoorlytrainedcircusmonkey.Nobody—andIdomeannopersononthisplanet—talkstothefutureMrs.Keatonlikethis.Anywrathsheistoendureismine.Theonlypersonsheanswerstoisme.Theonlymantoputherinherplace—ifandwhenneeded—would.Be.Me.Youwillberespectful,agreeable,andpolitetoher.TellmeifI’mnotunderstood,andI’llmakesuretomakemypointbydestroyingeverythingyoucareabout.”
Theairfeltthickandheavywiththethreat,andIwasnolongersurewheremyloyaltylay.Ihatedbothofthembuthadtorootforoneofthem.Itwasmyfutureontheline,afterall.
“Mario!”Myfathercalledouthissecurity.Washethrowingusout?Ididn’twanttobetherewhenithappened.Couldn’tfacethehumiliationofbeingthrownoutofmyownhouse.Istaredatmyfather’seyes.ThesameeyesthatglitteredwithprideandrespectnottoolongagoeverytimeIenteredtheroomashericocheteddreamsofmymarryingintoagood,ItalianOutfitfamilyandfillingthishousewithhappy,privilegedgrandchildren.
Theywereempty.
Ishotupfrommyseat,mylegspaddingacrossthecarpets.Ihadnodirection.Tearsblurredmyvisionasmyfeetcarriedmetothedrawingroomonthefirstfloor,ontheothersideofthehousewherethegrandpianosat.
Iwipedmyfacequickly,tuckingmyselfbehindthepiano,gatheringthetulleofmysummerdresstomakesureIwasn’tvisibletoanyonewalkingintotheroom.Itwasachildishthingtodo,butIdidn’twanttobefound.Iwrappedmyhandsaroundmylegsandburiedmyfacebetweenmyknees.MywholebodytrembledasIsobbedintomythighs.
MinutespassedbeforeIfeltsomeoneelseentertheroom.Itwaspointlesstolookup.Whomeveritwas—theywereanunwelcomecompany.
“Liftyourhead.”
God
.Mypulsejumpedathisvoice.Whyhim?
Iremainedmotionless.Hisfootstepscarriedacrosstheroom,becominglouderashemadehiswaytowardme.WhenIfinallypeekedfrombehindmyknees,Ifoundmyfiancécrouchingdowninfrontofmewithagravelookonhisface.
He’dfoundme.
Ididn’tknowhow,buthedid.
Notmymother.Notmyfather.NotClara.Him.
“Whattookyousolong?”Ilashedoutathim,draggingthepadsofmyfingersacrossmycheeks.Ifeltchildishseekinghisalliance,buthewastheonlyonewhocould.MamaandClarameantwellbutlackedanysortofpowerovermyfather.
“Work.”
“Workcould’vewaiteduntiltomorrow.”
“Itcouldhaveuntilyourfathergotintothepicture.”Hisjawclenched.“IhadameetingatabarcalledMurphy’s.Ileftmybriefcasethere.Itdisappearedfrommyside,thenamysteriousfirestartedinthekitchen,spreadingtotherestofthepubsoonafter.Takeawildguesswhathappened.”
Iblinkedathim.“TheItalianandtheIrishhavehadrivalrydatedbacktotheearlytwentiesinthistown.”
Hearchedaneyebrow.“Yourfatherhadmybriefcasestolenandburned.HewantedtodestroytheevidenceIhaveonhim.”
“Didhesucceed?”
“Whatkindofidiotkeepshismostvaluablepossessioninoneplacewithoutanysparecopiesandwalksaroundwithitinbroaddaylight?”
Thekindofpeoplemyfathermesseswith.
“Areyougoingtotellhim?”Isniffed.
“I’dratherkeephimguessing.It’sthoroughlyentertaining.”
“He’snotgoingtostop,then.”
“Good.NeitherwillI.”
Iknewhespokethetruth.IalsoknewthatitwasmoretruththanIcouldeversqueezeoutofmyfather.
Thepiecesofthepuzzlefellintoplace.Papaorchestratedthiseveningtobeadisaster.HewantedtodestroywhateverWolfehadonhim,andthefactIwasleftwaitingwhileWolfehadtoextinguishanotherpotentialPRdisasterwasanice,fatbonus.
“Ihatehim.”Istaredatthefloor,thewordsexplodingfrommymouthbitterly.Imeantitwitheveryboneandounceofbloodinmybody.
“Iknow.”Wolfesettledinfrontofme,crossinghislong,muscularlegsattheankles.Iglancedatthecutofhisdresspants.Nohintofsocks.Tailor-madetohisexactheightandframejustlikeeverythingelseabouthim.Amansocalculated,Idecided,wasgoingtohitbackharderoncehedecidedtopunishmyfather.
Andmyfatherwouldn’tstopuntilhedismantledhim.Oneofthemwasgoingtokilltheother,andIwasthepooridiotstuckrightinthemiddleoftheirwar.
Iclosedmyeyes,tryingtomusterthementalstrengthtowalkoutofthisroomandfacemyparents.Everythingwassuchamess.
Iamanunwantedpuppy,runningfromdoortodoorinthepouringrain,lookingforshelter.
Slowly,anddespitemybetterjudgment,Icrawledintomyfuturehusband’slap.Iknewthatbydoingthat,Iwasraisingawhiteflag.Surrenderingtohim.Seekinghisprotection,bothfrommyfatherandfrommyowninternalturmoil.Iflewdirectlyintomycage,askinghimtolockmeinside.Becausethebeautifulliewasfarmoredesirablethantheawfultruth.Thecagewaswarmandsafe.Noharmcouldfindme.Iwrappedmyarmsaroundhisneck,buryingmyheadinhissteelchestandholdingmybreathtopreventthenextsob.
Hestiffened,hisbodyrigidwithoursuddenproximity.
IthoughtaboutwhatMs.Sterlingsaidaboutkillinghimwithkindness.Defeatinghimwithlove.
Break.Crack.Feelme.Acceptme.
Ifelthisarmsslowlyenvelopingmybodyasheacknowledgedmysurrender,openedthegates,andletmyarmyskulkintohiskingdom,woundedandfamished.Heloweredhisheadandcuppedbothmycheeks,tiltingmyheadup.Oureyeslocked.Weweresoclose,Icouldseetheunique,silveryshadeofhisirises.PaleandfrighteningliketheplanetMercury,withicy,bluespecklesinsidethecraters.Iknewinstantlythattherewasachinkinhisindifferentmask,andthatitwasmyjobtowormmywaythroughthecrackandplantmyseedsthere.Growthemlikemyvegetablegardenandhopelikehelltheycouldbloom.
Hetippedhisheadforward,moldingourmouthstogether,ourlipsmeetingliketheyalreadykneweachother.Irealized—andnottomydiscomfort—thattheydid.Itwasadiscreet,bolsteringkiss.Forlongminutes,weexploredeachotherwithcautiousstrokes.Theonlyaudiblenoisewasourlipsandtongue,lickingwoundsmorethanskin-deep.Whenwedisconnected,myhearttwistedinmychest.Iwasafraidhewasgoingtoleavetheroomangrilylikehedidthelasttimewe’dkissed.Buthejustbrushedhisthumbovermycheekandscannedmyfacewithadarkfrown.
“Haveyouhadenoughofyourfatherfortheweek,Nem?”
Itookashudderingbreath.“IthinkI’vehadmyfillfortheyear.”
“Good.BecauseI’mbeginningtothinkIhaven’thadenoughofmyfiancée,andI’dliketorectifythat.”
Duringthedrivebackhome,Wolfeslidhisfingersthroughmine,claspingmypalmandpressingitdownonhismuscularthigh.Ilookedoutthewindow,thesmallsmileonmylipsatelltaleIchosetoignore.Afterweleftmyparents’pianoroom,mymotherapologizedprofuselyforthedisastrousdinner.Myfatherwasnowhereinsight;hisdriverpulleduptothecurbwhileshewasmakingexcuses,andheprobablywentsomeplacewherehecouldplotagainstmyfuturehusband.Notthatsaidfiancélookedparticularlybotheredbythesituation.
IhuggedMamaandtoldherthatIlovedher.ImeantiteventhoughIrecognizedthatmyentireperceptionofherhadchanged.Growingup,Itrulybelievedthatmymothercouldprotectmefromanything.Evendeath.Ididnotthinksoanymore.Infact,asmall,frightenedpartofmespeculatedthatthedaywhereI’dhavetoprotectherwasnear.Ivowedtoneverdothistomyownchild.
WhenIhadadaughter,Iwouldprotectherfromanyone,evenfromherfather.
Evenfromourlegacy.
Evenfromwoodenboxeswithdecadesoftradition.
Wolfehelpedmeintomycasualwooljacketandpiercedmymotherwithalookshedidn’tdeserve.
Now,inthevehicle,hishandcoveringmine,hedraggedmypalmdeeperintohisinnerthigh,muchtooneartohisgroin.Myownthighsclenchedtogether,butIdidn’tpullback.TherewasonethingIcouldneitherdeny,nordidIcaretoatthispoint:myfuturehusbandstirredaphysicalreactioninme.
WithAngelo,Ifeltwarmandfuzzy.Underarichblanketofsecurity.WithWolfe,IfeltasifIwasonfire.Asthoughhecouldendmeatanygivenmoment,andallIcoulddowashopeforhismercy.Ifeltsafe,butnotsecure.Desired,butunwanted.Admired,butunloved.
Whenwegottothehouse,Ms.Sterlingwassittinginthekitchen,readingahistoricalromance.Iwalkedintogetaglassofwater,withWolfefollowingme.Assoonashereyessnappedupfromtheyellowedpages,sheangledherreadingglassesdownthebridgeofhernoseandgrinned.
“Howwasyourevening?”Shebattedherlashes,feigninginnocence.“Pleasant,Itakeit?”
Thefactthatweenteredaroomtogetherforthefirsttimesincewe’dknowneachotherprobablygaveourtruceaway.
“Getout,”Wolfeordered,nomenaceormannersinhisvoice.Ms.Sterlinghoppedout,gigglingtoherself,asIpouredmyselfaglassofwater,refusingtosparehimalook.We’dcomeherebecausehewantedtospendmoretimewithme.Ihadnodoubtitwasneithermywitnorconversationhewasafter.Thefinalityofwhatwasgoingtohappenbetweenushitmesomewherebetweentheheartandthewomb,sendingwavesofpassionandpanicthroughmybody.
“Careforsomewater?”Myvoicepitchedhigh.Mybackwasstilltohim.
Wolfecoveredmybodywithhisfrombehind,runninghisfingersfromthesideofmythightomymidriff.Hecuppedmysmallbreast,makingmegaspinshockandunexplainedpleasure.Hiswarmlipswereonmyshoulder,andIfelthimstiffeningbehindme,hiserectionpressingagainstmybutt.Myheartflutteredbehindmyribcagelikeabutterfly.Oh,myGod
.Hewasfirmandhoteverywhere,andthesensationofbeingshieldedbyhimmademefeelbothhelplessandinvincible.
Idrankmywaterinmeasuredgulps,bidingmytime,ashisfingerspinchedoneofmynipplesthroughmydressandbra.Igroaned,mybackarchinginvoluntarily,andIhadtoputtheglassdownonthecounterbeforeitslippedbetweenmyfingers.Hechuckled,hishandslidingdownmylegagainandsnakingthroughthesideslitofmydress.Hisfingertipsbrushedthehemofmycottonunderwearandhegrumbledintomyear,makingmyskinbreakintoviolentgoosebumps.Insteadofrunningformylife—somethingeveryboneinmybodyscreamedatmetodo—Ifoundmyselfwantingtodissolveinhisarms.IwastheidiotwhotoldhimIwasn’tavirgin.NowIhadtodealwiththeconsequencesofmystupidlie.
“Water?”Imutteredagain,horrifiedwhenIfeltmypantiesstickingtomyskinfromthedampness.Mybodyfeltrebelliousandadventurousunderhisfingertips,butmymindtoldmewewerestillrivals.
Hethrusthispenisbetweenmybuttcheeksthroughmydress,andImoaned,myhipbonesslammingagainstthecounter.ThepainofthehitwaslacedwithdelightIcouldn’tunderstand.Partofmewantedhimtodoitagain.
“TheonlythingI’minthemoodforrightnowismybride-to-be.”
“Huh.”Ilookedattheceiling,rackingmybrainforsomethingtosay.Washegoingtotakemefrombehindlikesomekindofanimal?SexwasaforeignlandIhadyettosetfooton.Ihadplentyoftimetosurftheinternetandreadallaboutmyfuturehusband.Hewasawomanizerandhadmorethanhisfairshareofgirlfriendsandflings.Theywerealwayswell-educated,leggysocialiteswithshinyhairandanenviousfamilytree.Theyalwayshungonhisarmsinthetabloids,staringathisfaceasthoughitwasararegifthe’dofferedjustforthem.Butamongthesqueaky-cleanitemsabouthim,I’dalsofoundalotofheadlinesthatflirtedwithascandal.Hotelroomswithatrashcanfullofusedcondoms,arestroomincidentatagalathrownbyhispoliticalparty,andhe’devenbeenlockedinacarwithaEuropeanprincessfortwohours,muchtoherfamilyandcountry’sdisdain.
“Weneedtotakethisslow.Idon’tknowyouyet.”Myhandtrembleditswaytohisshoulder,pushinghimawkwardlywithnorealforceinmytouch.Iwasstillwithmybacktohim.
“Gettinginbedtogetherwillhelprectifythat,”hepointedout.IwishedI’dstoppedtothinkbeforeItauntedhimaboutsleepingwithAngelo.Buttheliegotbiggerandmoreimportantthemoretimepassed.
HespunmearoundsoIfacedhimandshovedmeflushagainstthecounter.Iwasbothamazedanddisturbedbyhoweasilyhemanhandledme.
“Slow,”Irepeated,myvoicequiveringaroundtheword.
“Slow,”heechoed,hoistingmeuponthecounter.Hesteppedbetweenmylegsasifhe’ddoneitathousandtimesbefore—andhehad.Justnotwithme.Mydressrodeup,andifhelookeddown—whichhedid,ofcourse,hedid—hecouldseemymatchingyellowpantiesandtheunmistakablestainoflustwheretheslitwas.Hecuppedmybehindinapunishinggrip,slammingourgroinstogether,andmybreathhitchedatthethingthatmetmydamppanties.
Myvery
damppanties.
Iwassoaked.Embarrassedtothebone.Ihopedhewasn’tgoingtotouchmedowntherebecausethatwouldonlyprovetohimhowmuchIcravedhim.
Myeyelidslowered,heavyundertheweightofmydesireforhim.Heputhislipsonmineandkissedmelongandhard,plungingintomymouthinarhythmthatmadeaballofsomethingwarmandbrilliantswellinmywomb.Hecrushedhisbodyagainstmineandrubbedhisswollencockagainstmycenter,andIdraggedmyfingersoverhisbacklikeI’dseenwomendointhemovies,enjoyingthepoweroftouchinghimhoweverIliked.Itfeltgood,andIdidn’twanttothinkaboutanythingelse.Likehowwewerealie.Orhowtheliefeltbetterthanthetruth—therealityofmylife.Ipushedasidemyfeelingsformyfather,andmymissingAngelo,andtheworryforMama.
ItwasjustthetwoofustuckedinabubbleIknewwasboundtoburst.
Wolfesnakedonehandbetweenusandrubbedmyslitthroughthefabricofmypanties.Iwassowet,anapologyforreactingthiswaytohisbodywasdancingonthetipofmytongue.Hecontinuedkissingme,chucklingintomymoutheverytimeIsquirmedandmoaned.
“You’resoresponsive,”hemutteredinwhatIthoughtcouldbeactualawebetweenkissesthatbecamedirtier,longer,andwetter,rubbingmefasterdownthere.Wasbeingresponsiveagoodorabadthing?Asagoodgirl,thatwasanotherthingtoworryabout.Ifoundmyselfopeningmylegswiderforhim,invitinghimtodomoreofthismagic.Somegirlstouchedthemselves,butIpreferrednotto.NotthatIthoughtitwasn’tokay,IjustknewthatIcouldn’trisklosingmyvirginityaccidentally.Itwaspriceless.Buthewasmyhusband-to-be,anditseemedtopleasehim.
Andme.
Iknewthatthefirsttimewassupposedtohurt,butapartofmewashappyitwasgoingtobeintheexperiencedarmsofWolfe.Everythingtingledinsideme,andIfeltlikeIwasabouttoburst.Onthetipofsomethingmonumental.Hismouthmovedagainstminemoreangrily,butIknewitwasn’tthesameangerasthedayhethrewmeoutofhisroom
“Sowet,”hegrowled,pushinghisthumbhalfwayintomyopeningthroughmypanties.Iarchedmybackandclosedmyeyes,mybodyburstingwithathousanddifferentsensations.Myfingersflutteredagainsthisgrointhroughhispants.Hugeandhardandevenwarmerthantherestofhim.Aterriblethoughtcrossedmymind.Iwantedhiminmymouth
WhatwasIthinking?WhywouldIwantitthere?ThiswasdefinitelynotsomethingIwasgoingtosharewithClaraorMama.NotevenMs.Sterling.
Jesus,Francesca.Themouth.Youpervert.
Hegrabbedmebythebackofmythighsandwrappedmylegsaroundhiswaist,kissingmeashemadehiswaytothestairs,myarmsstilldrapedacrosshisneck.Irealizedhewastakingmetoabedroom—hisormine—andthatIcouldn’tgothere.IhadtotellhimIwasavirgin.Thatinmyworld,wehadrules.Andoneofminewasnosexuntilmarriage.Butthatwasentirelytooawkwardinthisparticularsituation.Ineededtochoosethetimeandtheplacetocomeclean.
“Putmedown,”Islurredbetweendrunkenkisses.
“Idon’tgiveoralonprinciple,butyou’rewetenoughtofitafuckingshovelin.”
What?
Frightgrippedmythroat,tighteningitsclawsonmyneckfromtheinside.Hewashalf-readytomaulmerightthereonthefloor.WewerealreadyupstairswhenIbegantopushhimoffme,untanglingmylegsfromhiswaist.Heletgoofmeimmediately,watchingasIstumbledoutofhisembrace,mybackhittingthewall.
“Nemesis?”Hefrowned,tiltinghischindown.Helookedmoreconfusedthanangry.Forallhisshortcomings,Wolfehadneverforcedmetodoanythingphysicalwithhim.
“IsaidI’mnotready!”
“YoualsosaiditasthoughIpersonallyescortedyoutoHell’sgates.What’sthematter?”
Iwasembarrassedbymybehavior.Embarrassedbybothmylieofbeingexperiencedandmyvirginity.Lastbutnotleast,Iwasashamedofwantingitsobadly.WasthatallittookformetoforgetAngelo?ThehardlengthofWolfeagainstmysoftness?
“Areyouavirgin?”Hismouthnearlyblossomedintoasmile.Sorarewaslaughteronmyfiancé’sface,Iwasbeginningtothinkhewasincapableoftruejoy.
“Ofcourse,I’mnotavirgin.”Islappedmythigh,turningawaytowardmyroom.Hegrabbedmyarmandpulledmebacktohisembrace.Imeltedagainsthisbodylikebutteronafrypan.“Ijustneedalittletime.You’restillmoreexperiencedthanIam.”
“It’snotacompetition.”
“I’veseenthepapers.”Inarrowedmyeyesaccusingly.“You’reaCasanova.”
“Casanova.”Hischestdancedagainstmineasherumbledwithachuckleatmychoiceofwords.“ShallIescortyoutothenearestportaltotakeyoubacktothesixteenthcentury?”HefakedatheatricalEnglishaccent.
IknewIsoundedlikeaprude.Worse—IknewIwasraisedtobeone,andshakingoffthechainsofmydatedscrupleswouldbedifficult.ButIwasn’tnineteen.Notreally.Ihadthemannersofafifty-year-oldandthelifeexperienceofagoddamntoddler.
“Forgetit.”
Hesuckedhisteethin,smirking.“Fine.Nofucking.Wecanfoolaround.Senior-yearstyle.Ablastfromthepast.”
Thatsoundedequallyasdangerousasgoingalltheway.Themereideaofbeingwithhiminthesameroomwiththedoorclosedfeltscandalous,somehow.
“Inyourroom?”
Hehitchedoneshoulderup.“Yourcall.Oneofuswillhavetoleaveafterit’sover.Idon’tshareabedwithwomen.”
“Andmen?”Islidbackintomyelement,gladwewerebackinfriendlyterritory.
“Watchyourmouth,MissRossi,unlessyouwanttofinditwrappedaroundmysomethinglongandhardthat’dmakeyourjawsnap.”
Iknewhewaskiddingthistime,andevenhadtocoveragrin,duckingmyheaddown.
“Issleepingaloneaprinciple,too?”
“Yes.”
Sohedidnotshareabedwithhispartners,didnotperformoralsex,andwasnotinterestedinformingarelationshipwithawoman.Ididn’tknowmuchabouttheworldofdating,butIwasprettycertainmyfuturehusbandwasn’tagreatcatch.
“Ifeellikethere’saFrancescaquestioncomingmyway.”Hescannedme,andIrealizedI’dbeenmunchingonmylowerlipcontemplatively.
“Whydoyounotgiveoral?”Iasked,pinkingagain.Itdidn’thelpthatwewerehavingtheconversationinthemiddleofthefoyerwhereMs.Sterlingcouldhearusthroughthethindoorofherroom.
Wolfe,ofcourse,seemedanythingbutembarrassed,placinghisshoulderonthewallandwatchingmethroughlazyeyes.
“Iactuallyquiteenjoythetasteofpussy.It’sthebowingdownpartIhaveseveredisliketo.”
“Youthinkit’sdegrading?”
“Iwillneverkneelforanyone.Don’ttakeitpersonally.”
“Surely,thereareplentyofpositionsthatwouldnotrequirethatofyou.”
WhatwasIsaying?
Hesmirked.“Inallofthem,thepersongivingthepleasurelookslikethepeasant.”
“Andhowcomeyounevershareabedwithanyone?”
“Peopleleave.Gettingusedtothemispointless.”
“Ahusbandandawifearenotsupposedtoleaveeachother.”
“Yetyouwouldbemorethanwillingtoturnyourbackonthis,wouldyounot,mydearfiancée?”
Isaidnothing.Hepushedoffthewallandtookasteptowardme,tiltingmychinupwithhisthumb.Wolfewaswrong.Oratleast,notcompletelyright.Iwasnolongerhell-bentonrunningawayfromhim.NotsinceIrealizedmyparentsweren’tgoingtofightforme.Angelosaidwe’dbetogetherthislifetime,butIhadn’theardfromhimsince.Witheverydaythatpassed,breathingwithoutfeelingasifaknifehadbeenshovedintomylungsbecameeasier.
ButIdidn’tconfessthattoWolfe.Ididn’tutteraloudwhatmybodyspoketohiminmyparents’pianoroom.
Isteppedoutofhisembrace,tellinghimeverythingtherewastosay.
I’mnotreadyyet.
“Goodnight,Villain.”Iambledtomybedroom.
Thejaggededgeofhisvoiceranlikefingersovermybackbehindme,butherelented.Acceptedmyreluctancetobewithhimlikethat.
“Sleeptight,Nemesis.”IWATCHEDFROMTHEBACK
ofmyCadillacastheprivateinvestigatorI’dhiredslammedhiscardoorshutandwalkedovertoknockontheRossi’sdoor.Francesca’smotheranswered,andhehandedherthebrownmanilafileandturnedaroundwithoutaword,justasIhadinstructedhimto.
ArthurRossitriedtodestroytheevidenceagainsthim.
Iwasgoingtodestroyhim
I’dfilledChicago’sstreetswithmorecopsandmoles.Forthepastthreedecades,he’dbeenrulingthosestreetswithanironfist.Andnow,inonlyashortfewweeks,I’dmanagedtoeliminatealotofhispower.
TheinvestigatorI’dhiredreportedbackthatArthurhadbeendrinkingmore,sleepingless,andraisedhishandtotwoofhismosttrustworthysoldiers.Forthefirsttimeinthreedecades,hewasspottedleavinghisownstripclubs,smellingnotonlylikecigarsandalcoholbutalsootherwomen’spussies.Twoofthewomen,out-of-towners,werestupidenoughtoallowtheinvestigatortotakepicturesofthemwithArthur.
I’dcreatedmoreofamessforhim,anditseemedasthoughhisKeatonproblemwasn’tgoingtogoaway.
IwatchedFrancesca’smother’sfacecrumplingassheslidthepicturesoutoftheenvelope.Isimultaneouslyclutchedaletterinmyownhand.Itwasaddressedtomefromherhusband.Containinganthrax,Iwassure,ifitweren’ttooincriminatingagainsthim.
Francesca’smotherstartedaftertheinvestigator’swhiteHyundai,buthealreadytookoffbeforeshecouldquestionhimfurtheraboutthethingsheshowedher.
Itoreopentheletterandskimmedoverit.
Itwasaninvitationtothrowhisdaughterandmeanengagementparty.
Itwassuspicious,butapartofmegavehimthebenefitofthedoubt.Ifiguredhewantedtoputonashowandmakepeoplethinkourmarriagehadhisblessinginordertotryandassertmorepoweroverthesituation.Furthermore,stagingthefireatMurphy’sdidn’tservehimwell.Mybriefcase(whichdidn’tcontaintheevidenceagainsthim,ashe’dbeentipped)wasgone,butnowhereopenedafrontwiththeIrish,whosawthefireasadirectattackonthem.
SayingFrancescaandherparentsendedtheirlastencounteronabadnotewithmewouldbetheunderstatementofthegoddamncentury,andthiscouldgivethemachancetopatchthingsup.NotthatIhadanyplanstoplayTheBradyBunchwithamobster,butthelastthingIwantedwasascandal-filledweddingwithatearfulbride.AndthefutureMrs.Keaton,muchtomydisdain,excelledatturningonthatBuckinghamFountainandcryinghereyesouteverytimethingsdidn’tworkaccordingtoherInstagram-perfectideas.
Francescawasatchurchagain.She’dbeenspendingalotoftimeatchurch,becauseontopofbeingaprudeandacrier,shewasalso—youguessedit—aclosetednun.Onthebrightside,itcouldn’thurtmychancesofgainingmoresupporters.EveryonelovedagoodChristianfamily.Theydidn’thavetoknowthegroom’sbridewasmoreinterestedinbangingthefamily’sfriend.
Today,Francescahadpreviewedthedecorationsforourupcomingnuptials.Sincewe’dagreedtherewasnoneedforarehearsaldinner,wedecidedonaspeedyeventinthehouseofGod,followedbyamodestpartyatherparents’.
Arthuralsoaskedintheletterifwe’ddotheRossicouplethehonorofstayingthenightattheirhouseandattendacelebratorybreakfastafterward.
Itwasagoodopportunitytofinallysithimdownandlayitalloutforhim,playbyplay.HowIwasgoingtotakeawayeverythinghe’deverworkedfor.Thenbreakthenewsthatnoneofthemoney,property,andreputationhe’dgainedovertheyearsmatteredandmakehimrealizethatnoneofitwouldhelphimonebitinhisdiresituation.
FrancescaandIweren’tgoingtogivehimanygrandchildren.
Itwouldn’thurtthatmybridewouldgetthechancetospendtimewithhermother.Arewardforhersensiblebehavior.
“Backtothehouse,”ItoldSmithy
“Youhavethepeprallyatsixo’clock,”oneofmyExecutiveProtectionAgents(fancynameforabodyguard,justaswell—astherewaszerochanceofmyrememberinghisrealname)pointedoutfromthepassenger’sseat.Usually,itwasmyPA’sjobtoremindmeaboutsocialobligations.However,hewasdownwithhisfifthstomachbugforthesummerandtextedSmithyandmybodyguardsrelentlesslytokeepmeonschedule.
Iwavedmyhand.“Makeitquick.”
AswezippedbytheSearsTower,deepdishpizzaparlorswithcheapneonsigns,andbuskersperformingtheirownversionofBillboard’scurrenthits,Ithoughtaboutmyfiancée.Francescahadbeengrowingonmelikefingernails.Slowly,determinedly,andcompletelywithoutmyattentionorencouragement.
Shewaitedformeeveryeveninginhervegetablegarden,anoddlyattractivescentofmud,cigarettes,cleansoapclingingonherbody,andnotwearingmuchmorethanabarelytherelongcamisolethatcleavedtoherbodywithsweatandmist.ShewasalwayssurprisedanddelightedwhenIloweredheronthewetsoil,stillfullycladinmysuit,pressedmykneebetweenherlegsanddevouredhersweetmouthuntilourlipswerecrackedandourmouthsweredry.ShealwaysgaspedwhenIrubbedherhandovermycockthroughmydresspants,andsheevenchancedasqueezeinthepavilion,somewhereexposedenoughforhertofeelsafebuthiddenenoughforusnottohaveanaudience.HereyesflaredinaweandjoywhenIflickedherclitthroughherpantiesnot-so-accidentally.EverytimeIgaveherachancetopullaway,shestapledherbodytomine,makingusoneentity.
Ikeptmywordanddidn’tinitiatesexwithher.Figuredthedaywe’dsleeptogetherwasdrawingclosewithourpendingnuptials.Shewasreceptive,syrupyand…fascinated
.Longgonewerethedaysofthejaded,experiencedKristens.Francesca,despitethefactshe’dsleptwithmenbefore,wasraw.IwasgoingtoteachherallthedirtytrickstheBandinikidcouldn’tandhavefundoingso.
I’dvisitedherroomafewtimeswhenIknewshewasn’tthere,alwayswatchingoutfortwothings.Thethirdnote—shehadn’topenedtheboxyet.Iknewbecausethetinygoldenkeywaspositionedpreciselyinthesameplace,notmovinganinchbetweenthecracksofherexpensive,ancientwoodenfloors.Thefloorwasduetobereplacedbeforeherarrival,butnowthatIknewwhereshekepthersecrets,Idecidedtokeepthecracksintact.TheotherwastocheckherphonefortracesofAngelo.Therewerenone.Hismessageswereleftunanswered,thoughshedidnotdeletehimfromhercontacts.
“We’rehere,”SmithysaidasheparkedbyLincolnBrooksHighSchool.Theplacehadproducedmoregangmembersthanliteratecitizens,anditwasmyjobtosmile,wave,andpretendthatthingswouldbeokayforthestudents.Theyweregoingtobe—onceI’dcleantheirstreetsofFrancesca’sfather’semployees.
Protocoldemandedoneexecutiveprotectionagentshouldopenmydoorwhiletheotherpositionedhimselfbehindmeatalltime,sothatwaswhatwedid.
Iwalkedacrosstheyellow,unevenlawntowardthelow,gray,depressinglysquarebuilding,passingmetalbarricadeswithexcitedstudentsandtheirparentswhocametoseeanalumnirapperwhowasgoingtoperformtherelaterthatevening.ThekidhadmoreinkonhisfacethanaHarryPotter
bookandsomequestionablescars.Iwaltzedtowardtheprincipaloftheschool,ashapelywomanwithacheapsuitandan’80’shaircut.Sherantowardme,herheelsstubbingthedrygroundbeneathus.
“SenatorKeaton!We’rebeyondexcited…”shestarted,justasgunfirecrackedthroughtheair.Oneofmybodyguardsjumpedovermybodyinstinctively,throwingmetothefloor.Mystomachplasteredtotheground,Itwistedmyheadtotheside,watchingthebarricadedcrowd.
Peoplestartedrunningineverydirection,parentstuggingtheirchildren,babiescrying,andteachersyellinghystericallyatthestudentstocalmdown.Theprincipalsliddowntothegrassandbegantoscreaminmyface,coveringherheadwithherhands.
Thanksforthehelp,lady.
Anotherbulletslicedthroughtheair.Thenanother.Thenanother
,eachofthemgettingclosertome.
“Getoffme,”IgrowledtotheEPAontopofme.
“Butprotocolsays…”
“Protocolcangofuckitselfintheass,”Isnapped,theremainderofmyprevious,less-than-delightfullifecreepingintomylanguage.“Call911andletmedealwiththis.”
Hedisconnectedhisheavybodyfromminereluctantly,andIspranguptomyfeetandstartedrunningforthekidwiththegun.Idoubtedhehadmorebulletsinthatthing.Evenifhehad,heprovedtobeashitaim.Hecouldn’tputabulletinmeifIliterallyhuggedhim.Iracedrighttowardhim,knowingthatIwasn’tbraveasmuchasIwasvindictiveandstupidbutnotgivingmuchdamn.
Youtookittoofar,Arthur,Ithought.FurtherthanIgaveyoucreditfor
Heplayedniceandsentmeaninvitationtoanengagementpartyandsuggestedwestayathisplace.Hewasbuildinganalibi.Ibethewassittingsomewhereinpublicrightnow.Maybeevenpouringbowlsofsoupinafuckingcharitybasement.
BythetimeIputagooddentonthedistancebetweenmeandmypimplyassassin,thecrowdhadevaporated,andhewasexposed.Heturnedaroundandstartedrunning.Iwasfaster.Icaughtthehemofhiswhiteteefrombehind,yankinghimbacktome.
“Whosentyou?”
“Idon’tknowwhatyou’retalkingabout!”heshouted,kickingtheairasIdraggedhimback,butnotbeforepryingthegunfromhishandandkickingittotheside.Nottensecondslater,tenpolicevehiclesweresurroundingusfromeverydirection,andarmedandshielded,specialunitofficerscameout,officiallyarrestinghim.Icursedundermybreath.Ineededafewmoreminuteswithhim.Iknew,withoutashadowofthedoubt,thathewasn’tgoingtothrowArthurunderthebus.ButmyEPAsanddriveralreadyescortedmetotheothersideofthebuildingwithtwodetectivesandfourofficerstailingbehindus.
“Whatyoudidtodayisaveryadmirablething,SenatorKeaton.Schoolshootingsarearealissuethesedays,andI…”theprincipalstarted.
God,woman,justshutup.
“Anyinjuries?”Icutherwords.
“Notsofar,”oneoftheofficerssaidaswemadeourwaytomyvehicle.“Butyouwillbethetalkofthetownforthenextcoupleofdays.Thatwasheroic.”
“Thankyou.”Ihatedcompliments.Theymadeyoulaxandunguarded.
“Zionsaysyou’llneedtomakesomemediaappearancestoday,”myEPA—theonewhoshieldedmefromthebullets—staredathisphone.
“Fine.”
ItookoutmyphoneandtextedArthur’snumberinaninstant.ThefirsttextmessageIhadeversentmyfuturefather-in-law.
Thankyoufortheinvitation.MyfiancéeandIgladlyaccept.
Tuckingthephonebackintothebreastpocketofmyjacket,Ismirked.
ArthurRossitriedtokillme.
Hewasabouttofindoutthathewasapussy,andIwasacat.
Withninelives.
Twodown,seventogo.
Thenextfewdayswereallabouttalkingtothemedia,raisingawarenessaboutschoolshootings,andmilkingeverysecondoftheincident.Nobodysuspecteditwasanattempttoassassinateme.Thekid—anItalianschoolalumniandaMarineonvacationwhogotcoldfeetandforgothowtoaim—wasincustodynow,andinsistedthatitwasvideogamesthatmadehimdoit.
Thedayoftheengagementparty,NemandIweretomeetdownstairsatseveno’clock.Itookashowerandgotdressedattheofficebutmadeithomeinatimelymanner.LeavingFrancescaaspreyforArthurwasnolongeranoption.Arthurwasbeginningtofeelalotlikealoosecannon,andIdidn’twantitanywherenearthesmoothlyoperatingmachinecalledmylife.
WhenIarrivedontime,Francescawaswaitingformeinatightwhitegownthatmademycockjumpinastandingovation.God,shewasbeautiful.AndGod,Iwasgoingtofuckhertonight.EvenifIhadtogivehertheforeplayshelovedsomuchuntilmytonguefelloff.Thewomanwasdeliciousandripe.Andmine
Andmine
Andmine
IfIrepeatedthesewordsinmyheadenoughtimes,Icouldmakeittrue.
Iwalkedovertomybride-to-be,yankedherbythewaist,andkissedheropenlyinfrontofSterling,whowasfrettingwiththehemofFrancesca’sgown.Theoldwomannearlyswoonedwhenourlipstouched.She’dknownmemyentirelife,andhadneverseenmekissawoman,inpublicorotherwise.Sterlingtwirledtothekitchenwithaspringinherstep,givingusprivacy.
FrancescaandIcockedoureyebrowsinunison.Ourbodiesweremimickingoneanother,too.
“Howareyoufeeling?”
She’dbeenaskingmethisalotsincetherallyincident.Iwishedshewouldn’t.Itservedasaconstantreminderthatshewasthespawnofthepersonresponsibleforit,yetshehadnoideaofherfather’sindiscretions.
“Stopasking.Theanswerwillalwaysbethesame—I’mfine.”
“Tobehonest,it’snotmewhoisworriedatthispoint.DidyouknowMs.Sterlingeavesdropsoneverythingwedoandsay?”Nemscrunchedherbutton-ynose.
Iflickedherchinplayfully.IfoundoutaboutSterling’sfascinationwithotherpeople’sbusinessthehardway.AftermasturbatingintheroomnextdoortoSterlingatthirteenandahalf,IfoundaboxofKleenexonmynightstandandaPracticeSafeSexbrochurethenextday.ToSterling’scredit,IwouldsayIreadthemotherfuckertwiceandhadneverinmythirtyyearsofmiserableexistenceonthisplanethadsexwithoutacondom.
“Iwonderhowshe’dreactwhenwedomorethankissing,”mybride-to-bereddened,lookingdownbetweenus.
Mightwanttoreconsiderthat,darling.Ihaveanerectionthesizeofasalamiandanyaudiencebedamned.
“Isuggestwefindouttonight.”
“Howcuriousofyou.You’dmakeawonderfulinvestigator.”Shebitonasmile.
“TheonlymysteryIintendtounfoldishowdeepIcanburymyselfinsideyou.”
“Ican’tbelieveyou’reasenator…”shemumbledtoherself.
Meneither.
Onthathighnote,weleft,arminarm.
TheeveningtookanosedivefromthemomentwesetfootinFrancesca’sparents’manor.Notunexpected,butunsatisfactoryallthesame.
Foronething,assoonaswereachedtheRossiestate,I’dnoticednewsvansswarmingtheneighborhood,barricadingthemainstreet,andcausingacommotionofbystanders.Arthurhadinvitedjournalistsandlocalnewschannels,andthey,ofcourse,camerunningtohisdoorstep.
Asenatormarryingthedaughterofamobster.IthadmorejuicethanaBigGulp.
DeterminednottoallowArthurtofuckupmylifemorethanhealreadyhad,IopenedthedoorforFrancescaandescortedherintoherformerhouse,ignoringthecatcallsfromthereportersandtheflashofthecamerasfromthephotographersbytheirside.Oncewegotinside,FrancescaclungtomelikeIwasherlifeline,andIrealizedwithdreadinsteadofgleethat,inaway,Iwas.Nemesisnolongersawthishouseasherhome.Iwasherhomenow.AndIwashauntedbeyondbelief,readytoexorcisemyneedforher.
Herparentsapproachedus,keepingasafedistancefromoneanother.Hermotherlookedlikeshehadn’tsleptinapproximatelytwomonths,wearingtoomuchmakeuptohidetheeffectsofhermentalstate,andArthurlookedaninchortwoshorter.SinceIhadzeroillusionsaboutSofiaRossileavinghercheatinghusband,IhadtodeducethatI’ddonejustwhatIcamehereto—rockedhisboatalittlemoreandshatteredanotherfacetofhislife.
Wedidthecustomarykissesandhugscharade,“Salute!”glassesofBellini,thentheyintroducedustotheircircleoffriends.
Inoticedthreethingsimmediatelyandsimultaneously:
ArthurRossihadinvitedaveryleggy,veryblonde,verydemoted,
andthereforeveryvindictivereporterwhowasintimatelyacquaintedwithmycock—KristenRhys.
Healsoinvitedsomeofthemostfishyandill-reputablepeopleinthecountry,includingex-cons,gangleaders,andthelikesofwhichInormallystayedfarawayfrom.Hehopedthiswouldcontaminatemyreputation—which,Ihadnodoubtitwould,sinceKristenwastheretotakenotes.
Withoutevenreallyneedingtolook,IinstantlyfoundAngelostandingthere,nursingaglassofwine,makinglazyconversationwithotherguests.
Thiswasn’tanattempttoappeasemeandshowthattheRossi’swereonboardwithourupcomingnuptials.Thiswasasetup.
“Wehavequitetheaudiencetonight;thinkyoucanhandleourflavorofguests?”Arthurswirledhisdrink,shootingmeamenacingsmile.Wehadn’tspokensinceIRSVPedhisinvitation,afterwhichIhadn’tfilledintheauthoritiesaboutwhatreallyhappened.Moreleverageforme—onemoresecretIcoulduseagainsthim.Ofcourse,thatmeantthisplacewasswarmingwithsecurity,thankstomyfuturefather-in-law.
Goodthingweonlyhadafewmoreweeksofpretending.FrancescaandIwouldsoonbemarried,andthenmyplanwouldbeexecuted.IwasgoingtothrowhiminjailandmakesureherottedtherewhileIfuckedhisdaughterandlefthiswifetoaccepttheKeatoncouple’sverycharitablehospitality.IwasnotgenerousenoughtopayforthegrandmansioninLittleItaly,though.Francesca’smotherwaswelcometomovetooneofthemultiplepropertiesIownedacrossChicago.
Theultimatumwasgoingtobeclear—ifthemotheranddaughterwantedmyprotection,andmymoney,andmymercy,theyweretoturntheirbackonArthur—andI’dfoundthepoeticjusticealmostperfect.Afterall,therewasonlyonethingworsethanlosingaclose,lovedrelativetoanunexpecteddeath—losingtheirloveandaffectionwhiletheywerestillalive.
“Icanhandleanythingyouthrowatme,Arthur.Including,butnotlimitedto,yourspawn,whois
,infact,handledquitenicelybehindcloseddoors.”Iyawned,ignoringthelookofsurpriseandhurtFrancescaflashedme.
Itwasnotinmynaturetokissandtell,butinthatcase,therereallywasnothingtotell.Wedidnothingbutheavypetting.Itwasn’tmyintentiontohumiliateNemesis,butitwasnecessaryinordertohumiliateherfather.Andchoosingbetweenheranguishandhispride,I’drunovermyfuturewifetogetakickoutofArthuranyday.
Rossi’snostrilsflared,hiseyeszoominginonmeliketwobarrelsofagun.
Heshookitoffquickly,turninghisheadtohisdaughter.
“AngeloBandiniandhisfamilyarehere.Shameitdidn’tworkoutwithhimandEmilyafterall,”Arthurtsked
,studyingFrancesca’sexpressionthroughtherimofhisglass,whichwastiltedupagain—nosurprisesthere.Nemesiswasstillstaringatme,bewildered.Ittookeverythingforhertodraghereyestoherfatherandaddresshim.IfIwerehalf-decent,I’dapologize.Asithappened,Iwasnotonlyabastardbutalsokeenonherformingthisopinionofmepriortoushavingsex.Itwouldhelpmesetboundariesforwhatwewereandweren’t.
“Oh?”Shesmiledpolitelyasthoughtheywerecompletestrangers.Eithermyfuturewifewasaverygoodactress,orshereallywasoverhersillyfixationwiththeItalianstud.“I’msorrytohear.”Shemovedhergazebacktome,demandinganexplanation.
Yourfatherisacunt.Goodenoughforyou?
“Don’tsaythattohim,youfool.Saythattohim.”ArthurshovedFrancescaintheotherdirectiontowardBandini.IwasabouttoescortmybetrothedtoherfuckbuddywhenArthurplacedafirmhandonmyshoulder.Hissmilewasfullofteethandmenace,andhereekedofalcohol.Hiseyeswereredandsmallbutlaser-focusedonme.
“SenatorKeaton,Iwouldlovetointroduceyoutomyfriend,CharlesBurton.”
Asinthesamecongressmanwhohadjustresignedtoavoidanethicsinvestigationaftergropinghisemployees.Mightaswellstickmycockinthenearestsquirrel’sass.Itwouldmakelessofanembarrassingheadlineandwouldn’tputmymoralsinquestion.
“I’msureyouwould,butIhavesomethingtoattendto,”Igrittedout,takingasidestep,myshoulderbrushinghis.
“Nonsense.”Heclaspedmyarm,pullingmeback.TheonlyreasonIrelentedwasbecauseIdidn’twanttocauseasceneinfrontofKristenandgivehersomethingelsetowriteabouttomorrowmorning.“Didn’tyoudonatetohiscampaign?”
Idid.Beforehetriedtoputhisdickineverythinginhisoffice,pencilsharpenerincluded.Ofcourse,Burtonwasalreadynexttome,huggingandcongratulatingme,asmybridedriftedlikeamagnettoAngelo,whowasalreadyracingtowardher,hishurried,barelycontainedstepsmakingmyeyelidtwitch.Theymethalfway,thenstoppedabruptly,theirarmsdangledbesidetheirbodies.Theirawkwardnesstoldmethatnothinghadchanged.Theystilldidn’tknowhowtoactun-in-love.MyeyesfollowedthemreligiouslyasBurtonbegantotalkmyearoff,shootingexcusesaboutwhyhehadtostepdown.ThenotionthatIcarednearlydisturbedme.Atthispoint,hecouldmurderanentirestripclub,andIwouldstillbemoreinterestedinthewaymybride-to-be—my
fuckingbride-to-be,thankyouverymuch—flushedatsomethingAngelohadtoldher,loweringhergazetothefloorandtuckingastraystrandofhairbehindherear.TheyknewIwaslooking,sotheykeptarespectabledistance,buteverythingintheirbodylanguagescreamedintimacy.
Theplacewasfullofpeople,andIhadtoremindmyselfthatthiswasnotBishop’sson’swedding.Theycouldn’tsneakintothebathroomandfuck.Ontheotherhand,Ididjustthrowherunderthebustogetariseoutofherfather,somydefiantfiancéehadeverymotivationtopokemebackwiththeonethingsheknewdrovememad—herex-whatever(Ididn’tknoworcarewhattheylabeledeachother).
“…andthenItoldthemthatIwillnot,underanycircumstances,takealiedetectortest.”Burtoncontinuedblabbing,claspingmyshoulder.“Theaudacitytoevenask—”
“Hey,Charles?”Icuthimoff.
“Yeah?”
“Idon’tgiveasingleflyingfuckwhyyousteppeddownorabouttherestofyournonexistentcareer.Haveanicelife.Ordon’t.Iregretfullydonotcareeitherway.”
Withthat,Ishookhistouchoff,pluckingaglassofchampagnefromasilvertraythatfloatedaroundthebusyroombyoneofthepenguin-lookingwaitersasIdashedtowardmybride-to-be.Iwasafewfeetawayfromthemwhenashoulderslicedthroughthecrowd,blockingmyway.Myeyesmetthetopofagrayhead,hairsleekedbackandcarefullytrimmed.Bishop.
Heshookhishead,hisshit-eatinggrinwiderthanhisface.Finally,andafterweeksofmydanglinghisfutureoverhisheadsinceI’dfoundoutheandWhitewerebribedbyArthur,hewasinapositiontoshitovermyplans.
“Nineteen,huh?Shemustbetightasourgoddamnbudget.”Hechuckled,swirlinghiswhiskeyinhistumbler.
“Howwouldyouknowanythingabouttightness?Everythingaboutyouisloose,yourmoralsincluded.”Ismirkedback.Iwas,forallintentsandpurposes,aperfectgentlemanandapoliteconversationalistwheninsocialcircles.ButBishopandWhitewerenolongerpeopleIneededtoimpress.I’dknownthatsincebeforethemasquerade,whichwaswhyIhadallowedmyselftopissoffFrancescathereinthefirstplace.
“Idon’trememberyouleavingalastingimpressionontheRossigirlthefirsttimeyoumet.Sufficetosay,I’mnottheonlyonewithquestionableethicsinthisroom,”Prestonreplied,throwingsmilesandwavestoeveryonearoundus.
“Whateveryou’reimplying,youcangoaheadandsayit,”Ihissed.
“You’realreadyblackmailingArthurforhisdaughter.Thatmuchisclear.Thegirlisnotyours.”HetippedhischintowardAngeloandFrancesca.Hesaidsomethingthatmadehercuphermouthandduckherheaddown.Smitten.
“WhatI’mtryingtofigureoutis—doesthatmeanthatWhiteandIareintheclear?”
ThankfuckforarrogantidiotslikeBishopwhohadtheirliveshandedtothemonasilverplatter.HeactuallythoughtmyendgamewasyoungpussyasopposedtotakingdownthebiggestmobsterinChicagosinceAlCapone.That,ofcourse,workedtomyadvantage.IfBishopandWhitewereundertheimpressionthatI’dalreadygotwhatIwaslookingfor,they’dkeeptheirguardsdown.
Andso,eventhoughseparatingFrancescaandAngelowasoftheessence,settlingthismattertookprioritynow.
“IhavewhatIneed.”Ismiledeasily.
Bishopnodded,smilingandtappingmyshoulder.Heleanedtowardmeandwhispered,“Howissheinthesack?Alamboralioness?Sheisspectacular,Keaton.”
Iwasgladitwasnotpossibletostrangleapersonthroughanexpressionalonebecauseifitwere,PrestonBishopwouldbedead,andIwouldbeescortedtothenearestpolicestation.IneitherknewnorcaredwhyitbotheredmesomuchthatthegovernorspokeofmyfuturewifeasifshewerearacehorseI’dpurchased.Idownedmychampagneglassandtippedmychinup.
“How’syourwifeinthesack?”Iasked.
Heblinked.“Excuseme?”
“Actually,Idon’tthinkIwill,Preston.MissRossi’sagedoesnotgiveyouthepermissiontotalkaboutherlikeshe’sapieceofmeat.”
“But…”
“Enjoytherestoftheparty.”
Isaunteredpasthim,inwardlycursingArthurforbeinganasshole,Angeloforexisting,andmyselfforeverwantingtolayahandonthebeautifulsirendressedasNemesis.ThedecisiontomarryherwassupposedtochainArthurfurthertomyplanandcleanupmyreputation.Instead,itmadeeverythingathousandtimesmoredifficultandcomplex.WhenIslantedmygazesidewaystolookforNeminthethrongofpartygoers,IfoundKristeninstead,cradlingherdrinkandraisingitinmydirectionwithacunningsmile.
ItwasaninvitationIdeclinedbyignoringthegesture,roamingtheroomwithmyeyesforlongminutesonlytofindthatFrancescaandAngelowerenotintheroomanymore.Iclimbeduptothesecondfloor,checkingherroom,andeverysingleotherbedroominthehouse,thenthebathrooms,beforeIrememberedthatmyfiancéewasfondofgardens.IfiguredifAngeloandFrancescaweregoingtofuck,they’dgosomewhereprivate.ButIforgotonelittlething.NemesisclaimedtohavelovedAngelo.Afewstolenkissesandrushedpromisesunderthepinksunsetwerejustasrewardingtothemasarendezvousbetweenthesheets.
Idescendedthegarden’sstairstofindthemsittingonastonefountain,theirkneesangledtowardoneanother.Hecaressedhercheek,andshelethim.
Hetuckedacurlbehindherear,andshelethim.
Heplasteredhisforeheadagainsthers,andshelethimdothat,too.Theirbreathswereheavy,theirchestsfallingandrisinginharmony.
AndIstoodthere,watching,simmering,firecoursingthroughme,Iregrettedhumiliatingherinfrontofherfather.ForIlearned,forthefirsttime,thatmyactionstowardherhadconsequences.
Icompromisedherhonor,soshewascompromisingmine.
Theonlydifferencewas,Ididittospitesomeoneelse.Shetrulylovedanother.
Bandinileanedtowardherface,brushinghisthumbalongherlips.Hereyesdriftedtoherthighsagain,drunkonamomenttheybothknewtheycouldn’tprolong.Therewaspainandsadnessinhistouch,confusioninherexpression,andIknew,withoutashadowofadoubt,thatIsteppedintosomethingbiggerthanI’danticipated.Thiswasn’tpuppylove.Thiswastherealthing.
Shelookedupandsaidsomething,takinghishandsinhersandbringingthemtoherchest.Shewasbeggingforsomething.
WhatthehellcanthisboygiveyouthatIcan’t?
Buttheanswerwasobvious.Love.Hecouldgiveherreallove,somethingshewouldneverreceiveintheKeatonmansion.Notfrommeandnotfromhervegetables.
Henodded,gettingupandwalkingtowardthebalcony’sdoubledoors.IwassurprisedanddisturbedbythereliefIfeltbeforehardeningagain.SheprobablynoticedmeandtoldhimtorunoffbeforeIkilledhimwithmybarehands.Itookasteptowardthegarden,readytoreclaimherandmakesureshedidnotleavemysightagaintherestoftheevening.ButassoonasAngelowalkedaway,shelookedleftthenrightandapproachedagroupofmiddle-agedwomen.Makingpolite,disinterestedconversation,shekepthereyesstuckonthesecondfloorofthehousetheentiretime,andafternolongerthanfiveminutes,shedisappearedinsidethehouse.
Ifollowedherstepsagain,convincedtheyweregoingtothesameplace,whenafemininehandclaspedmyforearm,makingmeturnaround.
“Doyouatleastgodownonher?”Kristensmirked,herfreshlyappliedredlipstickandpreciselypinnedblondupdoshowingshe’dfreshenedupbeforehuntingmedown.Ishookheroff,laser-focusedongoingupstairsandfindingmyfiancée,butsheblockedmywaytothestaircase,whichwasalreadyteemingwithpeopleasitwas.Ihadnoparticularobjectiontoshovingheroutofmyway,butconsideringtheamountofsecurity,media,andthefactthatshe,herself,wasajournalist,itwasn’tthebestideaofthecentury.Yetagain,IhadtofacethequestionthatseemedtobeeternalsinceFrancescahadwalkedintomylife—mycareerandreputation,orcatchingherlittlecheatingassred-handed?
Goodnews?Istillhadlogiconmyside.
Badnews?Fornow.
“Idugaround.”Kristensnappedherfruityguminmyface,battingherlashes.
“Didyoufindabone,orsomeonetoboneyou,forthatmatter?”
Itirritatedmethatmyinternalthoughtsbledoutsidemymouth.Iusuallypridedmyselfinanadmirabledoseofself-control.Butknowingmyfiancéewasprobablyfuckinganotherguyupstairsmademewanttoripthewallsoffwithmyownfingernails.WhereasIwasquitecontentlettingFrancescascratchherAngeloitchafewweeksago,nowwasacompletelydifferentmatter.
“AreyounotinterestedtohearwhatIfoundout?”
“Notreally.”Ielbowedherasidegently,startingupthestairs.Shechasedme,grabbingthehemofmyblazerandtugging.Notachance,sweetheart
.Iwasatthecurveofthestairwaywhenherwordsmademestop.
“IknowwhyyoudidthistoRossi.Hewasresponsibleforthatexplosion.TheonethatkilledyourparentswhenyouwereatHarvard.”
Iturnedaround,observingher—reallylooking,notjustskimmingherfeatures—forthefirsttime.Kristenwasnotabadjournalist,andunderanyothercircumstances,Iwouldrespecther.Butsinceitwasmeshewastryingtofuckover,Ihadnochoicebuttofuckherharder,allpunsintended.
“Doyouhaveapointtoyourhearsay?”
“Rossimadeyouanorphan,soyoutookhisdaughterasretribution.Aneyeforaneye.I’dsayit’saprettygoodlead.”Shetippedherchampagneglassback,takingasip.Ismirked,assessinghercoldly.
“ItookFrancescaRossiasabridebecauseIlikedher.True,Ihavenokindwordstosayaboutherfather,butitwon’tbehimwarmingmybedatnight.”
“Shedoesn’tevenshareyourbedyet.Howinteresting.”Kristenslow-clappedatmyrestraintatputtingupwithsuchbehavior.Sinceshefinallyletgoofmyblazer,IturnedaroundtocompletemyjourneytothesecondfloorjustasAngeloslippedoutofaguestroom,squeezingpastmyshoulderinthenarrowhallway.Itookonesniffathimandknewthathehadjusthadsex.Hislipswereswollen,andhishairwasdisheveledanddampwithsweat.Kristen’seyeslitupatthelookofhimmakinghisgrandescape.Gleeoozedfromherbigfatsmile.Igrabbedhisarm,turninghimaroundtofaceme.Thisnightwasgoingdowninthebooksasmyworstnightasapublicfigureandpossiblyasahumanbeing.Angelostaredatme,heaving.
Frantic.Breathless.Guilty.
“LeavebeforeIruinyourlife,”IspatoutatKristen.“Andthistime,youwon’tgetathirdwarning.”
Shelaughed.“Seemslikeyoutwohavealottotalkabout.”
Myformermistressscurriedaway,herlaughtercarryinginmyearslongsecondsaftershewasgone.IplasteredAngelotothewall,grabbinghimbythecollar.
Iknewitlookedbad.
IknewIhadtoexplainittomorrowmorning.
Isimplynolongercared.
“Whowaswithyouinthatroom?”Idemanded.
“I’dstronglyadviseyoustopactinglikeathugunlessyou’dliketobetreatedlikeone.”
IstronglyadviseyoutostayawayfrommyfuturewifebeforeIreallydokillyou.
“You’vehadsex,”Icountered.
“Thanks,CaptainObvious.Iwasthere.”Helaughed,regainingsomeofhiscomposure,whichinfuriatedmeevenmore.
“Whowith?”Ipulledathiscollar,almosttothepointofchoking.Thatsurewipedthesmileoffhisface.IknewIhadtocalmdownbeforepeoplestartednoticingthelittlesceneI’dcreated.ButIcouldn’t,forthelifeofme,gathermywits.
“See,myfirstanswertoyou.None.Of.Your.Business,Keaton.”
“SenatorKeaton.”
“Nah.Yousureashelldon’trepresentme.”
“Anyparticularreasonwhyyouinsistongettingonmybadside?”
“You’reonmyfuturefather-in-law’sbadside,”hesaid,unflinching.Ihadtohandittohim—hehadballsthesizeofcantaloupes.“AndtheracetoFrancesca’sheartisoneI’mgoingtobeatyouat.”
“Iverymuchdoubtyou’recapableofbeatingmetoanythingotherthanpre-ejaculation,kid.”
“I’mfullypreparedtotestthattheory.Headsup—ItoldFrancescaIwouldgladlymarryherwithoutdowry,andthatIammorethanhappyformyfamilytoshelloutwhatevermoneyisneededtountangleherfromherKeatonsituation.Mightwanttofindanotherbridetofitthatdressyoubought.”
Iwasabouttopunchhiminthemiddleofmyengagementpartywhenmyfiancéeslippedoutofthesecondfloor,too.Shelookedlikeabarelycontainedmess.Hersmearedmakeupwascarefullywipedfromherface,hereyeswerewildwithrealization.PairedwithBandini’sfrankadmissionthathe’dsleptwithher,Isawveryclearlywhateveryoneelseatthepartywereabouttosee,too
Yetagain,FrancescaRossihadbeenfuckedbyamanwhowasnotherfiancé.
Atherownengagementparty.
Minutesaftershewasonmyarm,noless.
IpushedAngelodownthestairs,pullingmyfuturewifebythearm.SheshriekedwhenItouchedher,hereyesdartingupinhysteriabeforesofteningwhenshesawitwasme.Thenshesawwhatwaswrittenonmyface.Ifshecouldreadme—whichshecouldbynow—sheknewshewasindeeptrouble.
“Whatdoyouwant?”sheseethed.
Aloyalfiancée.
Afuckingshotgun.
Forthisnightmareofashamrelationshiptobeover.
“Youjustbrokeourverbalcontract,Nemesis.Notagoodthingtodowithalawyer.”
Shefrownedbutdidn’ttrytodefendherself.
Therewasaguillotineinsideme,andIwantedtosnapherprettyheadoffherbody.
Tonight.
I’djustwipedthetearsfrommyeyesaftertellingmymotherthatIwasstartingtowarmuptomyhusband.Therevelationwasbittersweet,ifnotcompletelycrushing.Perhapsitwasthenightlyencountersinthevegetablegarden,orthewayhekissedmesoopenlyinfrontofMs.Sterlingtonightwhenhepickedmeup.
“IsitStockholmsyndrome,Mama?”
“Ithinkit’sjustyounglove,VitaMia.Loveis,afterall,alittlemad.Otherwise,itisnotlovebutmerelyinfatuation.”
“Doyouhavetobemadtofallinlove?”
“Ofcourse,youdo.Fallinginloveis,bydefinition,goingcrazyforsomeoneelse.”
“AreyoucrazyaboutDad?”
“I’mafraidIam.Otherwise,Iwouldn’tstayeventhoughheischeatingonme.”
Thathappened,too.AnditthrewmeoffeventhoughIshouldhaveseenitcoming.ItwasnotuncommonforthemenofTheOutfittotakeamistressortwo
Momsaidthatifitripsyouapart,thatmeansitisreal.
“Butshouldn’tlovefeelgood?”
“Oh,nothingisgoodifitdoesn’thavethepowertofeelbad,too.It’sallaboutthequantities,Francesca.”
Quantities.
ThequantityofmyaffectiontowardWolferevealeditselfwhenAngelousheredmetothegardenawayfromthethrongofpeople.Despitemyfeelingcompletelycrushedandangryatmycoldheartedfiancé,I’dwantedtostaywithhimandbravemyfathertogether.ThenAngelosatmedownandbrushedadarkcurlfrommyeyesandaskedmeifIwashappy.Ithoughtaboutitlongandhard.
Iwasn’thappy.
Iwasnotunhappy,either.
I’drealizedthatnotonlydidIharborunexplainable,positivefeelingsforthemanwho’dimprisonedme,butInolongercravedAngelo’stouchthewayIhadbeforeWolfebulldozedhiswayintomylife.IstilllovedAngelo,butonlyasthekidwhoprotectedmefromhisbrothersandsharedsmileswithmefromacrossthediningtable.Insteadofhiswarm,familiar,softhands,Ilongedformyfiancé’sstrong,callous,hardpalms.Therealizationstruckmelikelightning,andItoldAngelothatalthoughIfeltbadabouthimandEmily—itwasoverbetweenus.
Forgood.
OnceIsawthelookonhisface,Itookhishandandbroughtittomychest,beggingforhisforgiveness.Andwhenhestoodupandwalkedaway,allIwantedtodowasfindmymotherandtellher.IhadtowaituntilAngelowasnowherenearmesoitwouldn’tlooklikeweweregoingtothesameplace.
Angelohaddisappearedinsidethehouseshortlyafter.MycousinAndreasaidbetweensippingmimosasthatshesawhimslippingintoaguestroomupstairswiththeblondereporterWolfeusedtodate.
“Theonewiththeprettyhair?Tall?Lanky?Tan?”
Ididn’tneedaremindertothefactthatKristenwasgorgeous.
“Right.Thanks.”
Insteadoffeelingangerathisbehavior,allIfeltwasstrangehostility.Eventhatwasn’ttowardAngelo—itwastowardmyownfiancé,whohadhumiliatedmeinfrontofmyparentswhenmyfatherthrewajabathim.
Nowwewereinthecar,staringoutsideourwindowsaswealwaysdid,watchingChicagowhooshingbyinitsmajestic,grayer-than-Wolfe’s-eyesglory.Ifiddledwiththeedgesofmywhitedress,unsurewhattosayordo.Again,WolfearrivedatthesillyconclusionthatI’dsleptwithAngelo.Andagain,IfeltthatdefendingmyselfwasencouragingapatternwhereIalwayshadtomakeexcusesfortalkingtoafriend.
Didhereallythinksolittleofme?Wehadaverbalcontract,andsincestrikingit,timehadpassed.TimeinwhichIkissedhimandcaressedhimandopenedmythighsforhimtostrokemetherethroughmyclothes.Istrokedhim,too.Didthatmeannothingtohim?DidhereallythinkIcoulddothatwithanymanatanytime?
“Iwillnotmarryawhore,”Wolfesaidwithdryresolute,stillstaringoutthewindow.Intherearviewmirror,IcouldseeSmithy,hisdriver,cringingbehindthewheelandshakinghishead.Iclosedmyeyes,willingmyselfnottocry.
“Letmego,then.”
“AmIhearinganadmission,MissRossi?”
“Iwillnotdefendmyselfinfrontofamanwhodoesnotdeservemypleas,”Isaid,ascalmlyasIcould.
“Isheworthmywrath?”
“Youdon’tscareme,SenatorKeaton,”Ilied,ignoringthetearscloggingmythroat.Ilikedhim.Idid.Ilikedthathedefendedmeinfrontofmyfather,andthatheofferedmethefreedomtostudyandworkandleavethehouseunattended.Ilikedthathewasatwarwithmyfamilybutdidn’tputmeinthemiddleofit.
Ievenlikedthathedidn’twantmetobehisbabymachine.LikedthathewasagreeablewheneverIdecidedtoplaynicewithhim.ThattheversionofWolfeIwasgoingtoget—thejerkorthesharp-tonguedadmirer—solelydependedonmybehaviortowardhim.Ilikedhowhisbodyenvelopedminelikeashield,howhislipsscorchedmyskin,howhistongueswirledovermyneedyflesh.
“Yet
,”hecorrected,hisjawashardasgranite.“You’renotscaredofmeyet.”
“Youwantmetobescaredofyou?”
“Iwantyoutobehaveforonceinyourmiserable,brattylife.”
“IdidnotsleepwithAngeloBandini,”Isaidforthefirsttimethatevening,and—Ipromisedmyself—alsoforthelasttime.
“Shutup,Francesca.”
Myheartcoiledinthecornerofmychest,andIswallowedthebitternessbleedinginmymouth.
Whenwearrivedatthehouse,heroundedthecarandopenedthedoorforme.Isteppedoutandignoredhim,pushingthefrontdooropen.IwassomadIwantedtoscreamuntilmyvocalcordstore.Hehadsuchlittlefaithwhenitcametome.Whohadmadehimsohardenedandskeptical?
Probablymyfather.
Therewasnootherwaytoexplainthebadbloodbetweenthem.
Behindme,IheardWolfeinstructhisbodyguardstostayoutofthehouse,whichwasagainstprotocol.Heneverwentagainstprotocol.
Irushedtomyroom,desperatetogathermythoughtsandthinkofawaytotacklethis.Ididn’tstoptothinkthatrunningawayfromconfrontationmaylooktohimlikeanadmittance.MyonlysinwassittingsomewherepublicwithAngeloandtellinghimthatheneededtostoptextingme.ThatIwantedtogivemyfuturehusbandafairchance.
“Youcanforgetaboutcollege.”Wolfeslammedhisphoneandwalletagainstthemarblemantelbehindme.“Thedealisoff.”
Iturnedaroundsharply,myeyesflaringindisbelief.
“Ididn’t
sleepwithAngelo!”Irailedforthesecondtime.God,hefrustratedmetonoend.Heneveronceaskedmeforanexplanationorvoicedhisconcern.Hejustassumed.
Wolfestaredatme,placid.Irantowardhim,pushinghischest.Thistime,unlikethefirstandsecondtimeIpushedhim,hemovedbackward,justaninch.Therewasheatinmytouch.Iwantedtohurthim,Irealized,morethanhehadhurtme.
Quantities.
“Areyousureyou’realawyer?Becauseyousuresuckatcollectingevidence.IdidnotsleepwithAngelo.”Thirdtime.
“Isawyouinthegardentogether.”
“Sowhat?”IwassoupsetIcouldn’tevenexplainmyselfproperly.Iclungtohisdressshirt,tuggingdownandtwiningmyarmsaroundhisnecktopullhisheaddown.Ipressedmylipstohis,desperatetoshowhimthatwhatwehadwasreal,atleastforme,andthatinmykiss,therewassomethingunique—apotion—Icouldnevergiveanyoneelse.
Hedidn’tmoveorreciprocate.ForthefirsttimesinceI’dmethim,hedidnotdemolishwhateverstoodbetweenusthesecondIgavehimpermissiontotouchme.Normally,wheneverImovedaninchtowardhim,hecrossedanocean,drowningmewithkissesandcaresses.HedevouredmeifIlethim.Thistime,hisbodyfeltrigidandcoldundermyfingertips.
Itookastepback,thedullpaininmychestspreadingallovermybody.
“Ilikeyou,Wolfe.Idon’tknowwhy,butIdo,okay?Youmakemybodyfeeldifferent.It’sconfusing,butit’strue.”
Andboy,wasitever.ThetruestthingI’deversaid.Myblushwasbackinfullforce,readytoobliteratemyface.
“That’sverykindofyou.”Hesmiledatmesardonically,standingtallerandbiggerandmorefrighteningthanI’deverseenhimbefore.“Tellme,Nemesis,doyouthinkallowingmetofuckhimoutofyouwouldhelpyourchancesatattendingNorthwestern?”
“Wh…what?”Ipulledback,blinking.Hestilldidn’tbelieveme.TherewasnothingIcoulddoorsaytochangehismind.
Heliftedhishand,strokingmycheek.Usually,IbaskedinhisattentionasthoughitwereaglorioussunrayonaDecemberday.Tonight,histouchmademeshiverandnotwithexcitement.Iwasstillwetbecausehewasthere,becausehewaspresent,andbecausehiseyeswereonme.Butitfeltallwrong.Mydesireforhimfeltdirtyanddesperate
“I’mnotlyingtoyou,”Isaid,bitingmylowerliptokeepitfromtrembling.“Whydoyoualwaysthinktheworstofme?”
Heloweredhislipstomine,andwhispered,“Becauseyou’reaRossi.”
Iclosedmyeyes,inhalingvenom,exhalinghope.IfeltlikeIwasdrowningeventhoughIwasstandinginthemiddleofthefoyerinthearmsofthemanIwasgoingtomarry.IknewwhatIhadtodojustthentosavehimfromhatingme.Ijustwasn’tsureif,bytheendofit,Iwouldstillbeablenottoloathehim.
Wolfewasnotgoingtobelieveme,anditwastoolateandtooconvenienttotellhimthatIwasavirginnow.
No.Hehadtolearnthathimself.
“Takeme,”Iwhisperedbrokenly.“Sleepwithme.Compromiseme.”Isqueezedmyeyesshut,feelingmyprideleavingmybody,evaporatinglikemist.“Fuck
Angelooutofme.”
Hetookastepback,andIcouldseethewarraginginsideofhim.
Tooproudtoacceptmyoffering,andtooangrytoturnitdown.
“Please,”Iclungtothecollarofhisshirt,risingonmytoesandplasteringmybodyagainsthis.Hiserectiondugintomystomachandgavemefalse,stupidhope.
“Iwantyou.”
“YouwantAngelomore.”
Ishookmyheadfiercely,kissinghisjaw,thecornerofhislips,hisCupid’sBow.
“You,”Ibreathed.“Justyou.”
Hesqueezedhiseyesshut,tookadeepbreath,andsteppedawayfromme.Iclunghardertothefabricofhisshirt,clutchinghiminavisegrip.
“You’returningmedown?Really?”Iwhisperedagainsthisneck,feelinghisAdam’sapplebobagainstmylips,hisstubble,andhistightmuscles.Everyinchofhisbodytriedtofightit.Us.
“Getonyourknees,”herasped,“andbegformetofuckyou.”
Idrewawayfromhim,myeyeswidening.
“What?”
“Youfuckedanothermanatourengagementparty.Thesecondtimeyouhavefuckedhimsincewegotengaged.Iwantyoutokneelandbegformetofuckhimoutofyou.AndIamafraidthatthereisnootherwayaroundit,Nemesis,”hesaidcoldly,raisingathick,darkeyebrow,hisjawlockedwithrage.
Iwasspeechless.
Icuppedmymouth,stiflinganagonizedmoanthathadthreatenedtotearpastmylips.Hisfaceremainedindifferent,unaffected;Iwonderedhowhecouldbesocrueltothewomanhewasgoingtopromisehisforever.TherewasnogoingbackfromwhatIwasabouttodo,if,indeed,Iwastodoit.Iwantedtoturnaroundandwalkaway.ButIknew,withoutashadowofadoubt,thatifIdidthat,wewouldbeover.
HeneededtoknowthatIdidn’tsleepwithAngelo.And,afterlyingtohimthatIhad,multipletimes,therewasonlyonewaytoprovemyinnocence.
Thelogicbehindtheideawastwisted,butsowasWolfe.Ourwholerelationshipwascrazy.
Withanunsteadyinhale,Ibegantolowermyselftomykneesinfrontofhim.Ipressedmyeyesshut,determinednottoseewhatwasonhisfaceasIstrippedoffmydignityforhim.Mamausedtosaythatpridewasthemostexquisitejewelryawomancouldwearevenwhenyou’renaked.ButWolfehadjustrippeditfrommyneck,everypearlofconfidencerollingonthefloor.Ibowedmyheaddown,andwhenmykneestouchedthemarble,agroanofpainandself-hatredescapedmymouth.
Ihateyou.
Ilikeyou.
IwishIcouldquityou.
IfIdidn’tshowWolfethetruth,he’dmakemylifehellorworse—throwmebacktomyparents,cancelourengagement,andmakemethetalkoftheentirecityofChicago.Hewouldusewhateverhehadagainstmyfather,andwewouldbepoor,powerless,anddefenselesswithoutmyfathertoprotectmymamaandmefrompoverty,theIrish,orTheOutfit’scutthroatsociety.
Iwouldloseeverything.
Thechoicenottokneelwasnevertrulymine.Icouldn’taffordforthisweddingnottohappen.AndIcouldn’taffordformyfuturehusbandnottobelievemeasIknewitwouldmakebothofusmiserableandhatefultowardoneanother.
Thefoyerwassosilent,Icouldheartheechoofmyheartbeatricochetingofftheceilings.Islantedmychinupandcrackedmyeyesopen,meetinghispunishinggrayones.Westaredateachotherforafewseconds,myfingerslacedtogetheratthesmallofmyback.Hewasright.Kneelingforsomeonedidmakeyoufeellikeapeasant.
Theminuteyouwillinglyloweredyourselfforsomeoneelse,theywouldnever,everlookatyouthesameway.Inoroutofbed.
“Iwillnottakeyoubyforce.”Hisvoicewasasharp-edgedknife,travelingacrossmynerves,nippingthoughnotcuttingallthewayin.
“Ioffermyselfwillingly,”Isaid,myheadboweddown.
“Up.”
Istoodup.
“CometomeandkissmethewayyoudidAngelotonight.”
Iswallowedthesourbilerisinginmythroat.Hatred,humiliation,excitement,dread,andhopeswirledinmychest.Withmykneesbumpingintoeachother,Imademywaybacktohim,pressingmylipstohisasIwrappedmyarmsaroundhisneck.
Mybodyhummedwithdarkenergy.IwantedtodevourhimwithrageandshowhimthatIwasinnocent.ThatIwasstilluntarnished,andthatIwashis.ButIwasmetwithsuchpassivedisinterest,Icouldn’tmusterupthecouragetodotohimallthethingsIwantedto.
Heloweredhislipstomeetmine—finally—andIthoughthewouldreciprocate,buthejustgrinnedintomymouth.“Ifthat’showyoukissthemanyouwantsodesperately,IcanseewhyAngelodidn’tputupabetterfighttowinyou.”
ThatwaswhenIlostit.
Ibitdownonhislowerlip,hard,rakingmyfingernailsthroughhishairandtuggingatthesametimehetorethefrontofmydressbythecleavage,ruiningthedesignernumbercompletely.Myskinburned,andmybackarched.Ikickedoutofthedress,crushedsilkmountingundermyheels,pullinghimtome,wrappingmyselfaroundhimlikeadeadlyoctopus.Iwasablackwidowswallowinghimwhole.Wewrestledeachotherfuriously,stumblingtowardthestaircaseandbumpingintoahangingpicture,aconsoletable,andastatue.Hehoistedmeupandcarriedmeupstairs,drowningmymoanswithkisses,suffocatinghisowngroansofpleasurebybitingmychinandlipsandearlobes.Bruisingmewithpunishinglust.Markingmewithhisenvy.
Ms.Sterlingwasinthehallway,wateringthehugeplantsonthemarblestandsagainstthegrandcrèmewalls.Whenshesawusbitingandgroaningateachother,meinhisarmsmostly-naked,shegasped,rushingtowardthewestwing.
Hebitmyupperlipanddrewitintohismouth,carryingmetomybedroom.Angeloseemedalifetimeaway,outofreachandasfarawayasthemoon.Wolfewashere,intheflesh,burningmelikethesun.Deadlyandinfuriatingand—Iknew,Ijustknew
,aslostasIwasinhistouch.Ihadnoideahowhewasgoingtodealwiththeaftermathofwhatwasabouttohappen.ButIdidknowthathewasgoingtobehumbledwhenthiswasallover.
Iwasnotaliar.
Iwasnotacheater.
Iwashisfuturewife.
Itriedtowarnhim,buthedidn’tbelieveme.
Whenwereachedmyroom,hekickedthedooropenandthrewmeonthebed.
Ilaidthere,staringathimwithraisedchinandwhatIhopedwasconfidence.Iwantedtobearrogantandcoldevenashetookme.EvenasIsubmittedtohim.EvenwhenIgavehimmymostpreciousandonlypossession.Apossessionhemostassuredlydidnotearntonight
Myvirginity.
Hestuffedhishandsinthepocketsofhiscigarpantsandregardedmewithdisdain,assessingmenowthatwewerecompletelyalone.Iwaswearingnothingbutmywhitebraandmatchingpanties.Iknewhelikedwhathesawbecausehehadthatdarkenedlookinhiseyes.Theonethatmadetheroomhotter,theairdenselikefur.
“Takeeverythingoffbuttheheels,”hedemanded.
“I’mnotastripper,”Ihissed,narrowingmystingingeyesathim.“I’myourfuturewife.Stripmelikeyoutakeyourvows—likeyoumeanit,SenatorKeaton.”
“Vowsthatobviouslymeannothingtoyou,”hesaidagain,evenmorealoof.Hebarelylookedatmeashedid,makingapoint.“Off
,Francesca.”
Igrinned,gatheringmycourage.Whenmyarmmovedtomyback,unclaspingmybra,Icouldalmostseehispulsequickeningonthesideofhisneck.HisfaceremainedcoolevenwhenIremovedmyunderwear,remaininginnothingbutmyheelsinmybed.
Heleaneddown,stillfullyclothed,staredintomyeyes,andbroughthisarmbetweenus.Hepressedtheheelofhispalmagainstmyprivatearea.Ifeltmywetnesspushedagainstthedustingofhairthere,dampandcoolontheoutsidebuthotfromwithin.
“Iwillsaythisonetime,Francesca,thenconsidermyconscienceclean.Ifyoudon’ttellmetoleaverightthisminute,youwillbedevoured,wrecked,possessed,andownedfortheentirenight.IwillfuckAngelooutofyou,andthentherestoftheidiotswhowereunfortunateenoughtotouchyouandthinkthere’dbeasecondtime.Iwillnotbeconsiderate.Iwillnotbecompassionate.Soifyou’reusedtogentleloversandhour-longspooning,saytheword,andourverbalcontractwillbeterminated.”
“Andyouwillstillmarryme?”Iasked.
Hisnostrilsflared.“Iwillmarryyou,butyou’dwishIwouldn’t.”
HethoughtI’dbeenwithothermen.ItoldhimIwassomeoneelse—andhetookmywordforit.WhoIreallywasdidn’tmattertohim.Wolfewenttoextremelengthstoprovethattome.Whatstruckmeaspeculiar,though,wasn’thiswords,butthesituation.Hewaswillingtoforgiveme,tohonorourverbalagreementIallegedlybroke,eventhoughinhiseyes,I’dsleptwithmyformerflamenotonce,buttwicesincewe’dgottenengaged.Hesaidhedidnotnegotiate,yetheabsolutelydid.Withme.
“Areyouafraidtoactuallyfeelsomethingifyoutouchme?”Itaunted.“Yourwallsoficebergsarethawing,Senator.”
“Tensecondstodecide,Nemesis.”
“Youalreadyknowtheanswer.”
“Sayit.Eight.”
Ismiled,thoughinside,Iwascrumbling.Hewasgoingtotakemyvirginityandbyforce.HethoughtIwasalreadycompromised,andtoprovehowwronghewas,Ineededtolethimhurtmethewayithurthimtoseemewithanotherman.Iknewwhatitlookedlike.Angelodidtouchme.Hedidleanagainstme.Hedidtracemyhairwithhisfingers.Movedhisthumbacrossmylips.AndthenhesnuckoutofaroomafterhavingsexwithsomeoneelsewhileIwasMIA.
Theevidencewasthere,stackedagainstme.
“Five.”
“Trynottofallinlovewithme.”Iopenedmythighs.
“Francesca
.Three.”
“Itwillbeaterribleinconvenience,ilmioamore
.Tolovethewifeyoutookinvengeance.”
“One.”
“Stay,”
Isnapped,loudandclear.
HeadvancedtowardmeandpulledmedownbymywaistsoIwaslyingunderneathhim.Isuckedinabreathasheputhishandonmyneckandscootedup,cagingmewithhiskneeslockingmythighs,stillfullydressed.
“Openmyzipper.”
Icouldn’tbreathe,letaloneworkhiszipper.SoIjuststaredathim,hopinghewouldnotmisreadmyshockasdefiance.Buthedid.Ofcourse,hedid.Withagrowl,heunzippedhimselfandpusheddownhispants.Ididn’tdareglancedownandseewhatwaswaitingforme.MyheartpoundedsofastandhardIthoughtIwasgoingtopuke.IquicklyassembledalltheinformationIhadonlovemakinganddecidedthatI’dbeokay.Iwasaroused,wetwhereIneededtobe,andinthehandsofthemostdesirablemaninChicago.
Withhispantsaroundhisknees,heslidonefingerintome,hisfacevoidofemotion.
Iinhaledandtriedtolookcalmevenwhenthetearsslammedintothebackofmyeyeballsagain.Ithurt.Iwasn’tsurewhathurtmore,thephysicaldiscomfortorthewayhelookedpastmeasthoughIwasnothingbutabody.
ThesamewayhehadstaredatKristen.
Hepoppedhisfingerintohismouthandsuckedonit,expressionless,thendippedhisfingerintomeagain,retrievedmyarousal,andpusheditbetweenmyownlips.Iwasforcedtotastemyself.Muskyandsweet.Iflushedred,mynipplespuckering,sosensitiveIwantedtorubthemagainsthishardchest.
“Heusedacondom?”Hewipedtheremainderofmywetnessonmycheek.Iwantedtocryuntiltherewasnothingleftofmebutheldback.
HewasabouttofindoutthetruthinafewshortmomentsthatIwastellingthetruththefirstthreetimes,soItoldhimwhathewantedtohear.
“Yes.”
“Atleastyouhadthedecencytodothat.Iwillnotbeusingone,butamorning-afterpillwillbewaitingonyournightstandfirstthing.See,havingchildrenwithaleg-spreadingwhoreislowonmyto-dolist.Youwilltakethepill,noquestionsasked.AmIunderstood?”
Iclosedmyeyes,shamedrippingdownmybodylikesweat.Iwasagreeingtothis.Toallofthis.Consentingtohiswords,hisactions,andhiscruelty.Ihad,afterall,gonedownonmyknees,beggingforthismomenttohappen.
“Understood.”
“Iwouldplaywithyoualittle,butyou’vebeenpreppedbyanother,andI’mnotinagenerousmood.”Hesmirkeddarkly,andthen,withonesuddenthrust,hepressedhiscockhome,slammingintomewithsuchforce,mybackarched,mychestmeetinghis,andstarsexplodedbehindmyeyelidsaspainpiercedthroughme.Hetorepastthenaturalbarrierofmybodyandwasburiedsodeepinsideme,itfeltlikehewasrippingmeapart.Thestingwassoprofound,Ihadtobitemylowerliptosuppressascreamofsheeragony.Mywholelife,ClaraandMomwarnedmeofftampons,bikeriding,andIevenhadtowearthickbreechesformyhorserides,topreservethatwhichwassosacrosanct,soholy.Onlytobemetwiththis
Motionless,soundless,andtenseunderhisbody,theonlycluethatIwasstillconsciouswasthetearsthatbeganstreamingdownmyface.Ibitmyliphardsoasnottomakeasound.
Iamarustybarbwire,twistedtogether,knottedintoaballoffear.
“Tightasafist,”hegroaned,hisferalvoicemeetingmycompletesilenceashethrustsohard,sofast,andsorough,Ithoughthewasgoingtoslashmeapartintominisculeshreds.Mytearsslidfrommycheeksdowntomypillowashepusheddeeperanddeeper,andIcouldfeelthewallsofmyvirginitycomingdownandbleedingoutofme.ButIdidn’ttellhimtostop,andIdidn’tconfessmyvirginity.
Ilaythereandlethimhaveme.Hetookmyinnocencewithforce,butIcouldn’tgivehimanypartofmypride.Notevenasmallpieceofit.Notafterwhatoccurredinthefoyer.
Afterafewthrusts,Iforcedmyselftoopenmyeyesandblurrilywatchedhisimpassive,angryface.Somethingseepedbetweenus,coveringmythighs,andIknewwhatitwas.IprayedwitheverythingIhadinmethathedidn’tnoticeityet.
Buthedid.Henoticed.Hiseyebrowssnappedtogether,andheregisteredmyface,mytears,myagonyforthefirsttime.
“Period?”
Ididn’tanswer.
Hepulledbackfrommecarefully,hisgazedroppingbetweenus.Therewasbloodontheinsideofmythighsandonmywhitelinen.Igrabbedthecollarofhisshirt,drawinghimbacktome.Iwasdesperateforhisbodytohidemine.
“Finishwhatyoustarted,”Irustled,exposingmyteeth.Icouldfeelthepulseofhisheartagainsthischest,hewassoclose.
“Francesca.”Hisvoicewasgruffanddrenchedwithguilt.Hebroughthishandtomyfacetorubmycheek,butIslappeditaway.Icouldn’tbearhisnew,tendertenor.Ididn’twanthimtobegentlewithme.Iwantedhimtotreatmeashisequal.WiththesameangerandlustandhatredIfeltforhimrightnow.
“Nowdoyoubelieveme?”Ismiledbitterlythroughthetearsthatjustkeptcomingdownlikerain,desperatetowashawaythelastfewminutes.Hisfrownsmoothed,andheraisedhimselfupfromme,abouttodrawaway,butIpulledhimbacktomybodyharder.
“It’sdone.”Ilookedhimintheeyeandsawsomuchmiseryinthem.Ilockedmyanklesbehindhisback,caginghiminsideme.“IdecidehowIwantmyfirsttimetobe.Finishthis.Now.”
Tomyhorror,moretearscamethrough,andhelickedthemasheloweredhimselfbacktome.Histonguerolledfrommynecktothepillowsofmycheeks,catchingallthetearsparachutingfrommyeyes.“Nem,”hetriedreasoningwithme.
“Shutup,”Iburiedmyfaceinhisshoulderasourbodiesconnected,himdrivingintomeagain.
“I’msorry,”hewhispered.
Histhrustsweregentlenow,easingintomewhilebrushingthetipsofhisfingersbackandforthovermyouterthigh,aleisured,intimategesturethatwasnothingmorethanasweetlie.Theheelofmyfootrubbedthefabricofthepantsheneverbotheredtoremove.Iknewthathewantedtotryandfinishtogetitoutoftheway.Ialsoknewthatitwastoolatetominimizethedamage.
Afterafewminutesofdullpain,hebegantoupthepace.Hisfacegrewtightandhiseyesdarkened,andthatwaswhenIcouldbeartolookathisfeaturesagainwithoutfeelinglikeheshovedaknifeintomychesteverytimehepushedintome.Hefinisheddeepinsideme,thewarmthofhislustconqueringeverypartinsideme.Iclungtohisshoulders,feelingfrayedandtatteredbeneathhim,mylowerbodysowoundeditalmostfeltnumb.
Heleveredupsohecouldlookatme,staringatmyfacewithoutmeetingmyeyes.
Westayedsilentforafewmoments,himstillontopofme.Hedidn’taskmewhyIdidn’ttellhimIwasavirginearlier.Heknew.Finally,herolledoffme.Iscootedawayandstoodup,coveringmyselfinalavendersatinnightgownIretrievedfromthebackofmydeskchair.
Hesatonmybedbehindmyback,bentforward,lookingalittlestunned.Hisfaceblank,hisshouldershunched.Afarcryfromthebrashasshole,futurehusbandIknewwhoalwaysoozedofoverconfidence.Ididn’tblamehimforhissilence.Wordsseemtooinsignificantforwhathappenedheretonight.
Itookmycigarettepackfrommynightstandandlitoneuprightinsidehishouse.Itwastheleastheowedme.
HeknewandIknewthatifhetriedtogivemeaffection,Iwouldn’tbeabletoliveitdown.
“Ihaveanearlydaytomorrow.Myfinaldressfitting,thenshoppingforcollege,”Isaid,takingaseatatmydeskoverlookingthegardenI’dlovedthewayI’dwishedIcouldlovemyfuturehusband.Whollyandwithoutexpectingmuchback.
“Nem.”Hisvoicewassogentle,Icouldn’tbearit.Iproppedmychinonmyknuckles.Hishandswereonmyshouldersnowashestoodbehindme,loweringhisforeheadtomeetthecrownofmyhead.Hereleasedaruggedbreaththatmademyhairflyeverywhereonmyface.Theroomsmelledofsexandmetallicbloodanddesperationthatwasn’ttherebefore.
“Leave,”Isaidcoldly.
Hekissedthetopofmyhead.
“Iwillneverdoubtyouagain,Francesca.”
“Leave!”Iscreamed,pushingoffthedesk.Thewheelsofthechairhithisfeet,buthedidn’tseemtocareaboutthepain.Heleftafterthat,butwhathappenedbetweenusstayedinmyroom.
WhenIwokeupthenextmorning,twoAdvils,amorning-afterpill,abottleofwater,andawarm,wetwashclothwaitedonmynightstand.IinstantlyknewthatMs.Sterlingwasprivytowhathappenedduringthenight.
ItooktheAdvilsandthepill,drinkingallthewater.ThenIspenttherestofthedaycryinginmybed.
Ipacedtheeastwing.
Back,forth.
Back,forth.
Walkinghadneverbeensoexcruciatinglymaddening.Iwantedtokickdownthedoorandbargeinside.IbarelyhaditinmetosendKristenaletterfrommylawyer,threateningtosueherforeverypennysheeverearnedifshepublishedthepieceonme.IalsoknewIcouldn’tholdherbackfromdishingoutthedirtformuchlonger,butagain—didIcare?
Not.One.Bit.
“Givehertime.”Sterlingwasshadowingmyeverymovementlikeafuckingtail.AsifIwasgoingtoforcemywayin.
Donequiteenoughofthatforalifetime,Sterling.
“Howmuchtime?”Ibarked.Iwasnotwellversedinthewholerelationshipgig.
Iwasevenlessfamiliarwiththeworldandfeelingsofteenagegirls.Evenasateenagermyself,Ioptedformorematurewomen.Theydidn’ttakemeseriously,andtherewerenoexpectationstobemet.
“Untilshefeelswellenoughtoleaveherbedroom.”
“Thatcouldtakeweeks
,”Ispatout.Francescaalreadyprovedtobeablenottoeatforlongperiodsoftime.Ifdisobediencewasacompetitivesport,myfuturewifewouldmakeittotheOlympics.Andmedal.
“Thenthat’swhatyou’llgiveher,”Sterlingsaidwithconviction,signalingmewithherheadtoleaveFrancesca’swingandcomedowntothekitchenwithher.
Icouldn’tunseethebloodbathbetweenherlegs,orthewayherthighsshook,twitched,andtensedundermine.
I’dalwayshadatalentforreadingpeople.ThatwashowI’dbecomeastarpolitician,impeccableprosecutor,andoneofthemostformidablemeninChicago.WhichwasatoddswiththefactthatIfailedtonoticemyyoung,verysheltered,nervousfiancéewasavirgin.Iwassoblindedwithragethinkingshe’dsleptwithAngelothatIdidn’ttakeherwordforit.Andshe—thesmart,sensitive,gorgeousvixenthatshewas—servedmewithahealthysliceofhumblepie,makingmefinisheverybiteofwhatI’dstarted.
Ishould’veseenitfrommilesaway.ShecamefromastrictItalianfamilyandwenttochurcheverySunday.Shesimplywantedmetoseeherasmoreworldlyandlessofana?velittlemouse.Unfortunately,itworked.Toowellforherliking.
Theweightofmyguiltsatsquarelyonmyshoulders.Ishreddedhersavagely,andshemetme,thrustforthrust,hereyesonmine,hertearsfiercebutsilent.Ithoughtshewasguiltyandangrywithemotion.Ihadn’trealizedIwasbulldozingthroughwallsIhadnorightbringingdown.
Traditionally,inItalianweddingsinTheOutfit,thebridegroomwassupposedtopresentthebloodiedsheetstohispeers.IhadnodoubtArthurRossiwasgoingtodieaslow,painful,internaldeathifIsenthersheetshiswaysixdaysbeforethewedding.Therewasnomistakingwhathappenedhere.AndtherewasnoconfoundingFrancescasufferedeverymomentofit.Butsomehow,anddespitemyworstintentions,Icouldn’tbringmyselftodothattoher.
Iretiredtomystudy,resistingtheurgetocheckinonher.Iwasn’tentirelysureIshouldgivehertime,butInolongertrustedmyinstinctswhenitcametoher.Typicallyacruelandcalculatedcreature,I’dlostcontrolseveraltimesinthepastmonth,allofthembecauseofmyyoungbride-to-be.Maybeitwasbesttotakemyhousekeeper’sadviceandletherbe.
Ioptedtoworkathomethatdayontheoffchanceshe’dleaveherroom.She’dmissedherappointments,andwhenhermothercametopickheruptoshopforherupcomingschoolyear,Sterlingsentheraway,albeitwithacarrotcake,explainingthatFrancescawassufferingfromaterriblemigraine.Mrs.Rossilookeddistraughtasherdriverpulledawayfromthecurb.Throughthewindowofmystudy,Icaughthertryingdesperatelytocallherdaughter.Still,Ididn’thaveitinmetofeelsorryaboutwhathappenedtoanyonewhowasnotmyfuturewife.
Thedaypassed,asbaddaysdo,significantlyslow.AllthemeetingsI’dsummonedtomyhouseturnedbeneficialandproductive,however.I’devenmanagedtosqueezeinaconferencecallwithmypublicrelationsmanagerandhisassistant,somethingI’dpostponedforweeks.WhenIfinallyleftmyoffice,itwaswellpastdinnertime.
Iateinthekitchen,notmeetingSterling’sjudgmentalgaze.Shesatacrossfromme,herhandsinherlap,staringatmeasthoughIjustmauledababy.Inasense,thatwasexactlywhatIhaddone.
“Anymoregreatideas?MaybeIshouldsendherbacktoherparents?”Isnarledwhenitbecameapparentshewasnotgoingtostoplookingatme.
“Youshoulddefinitelynot
dothat.”ItwasthefirsttimeSterlingspoketomeinthattone.EvenwhenIwasachild,shedidnottreatmelikeone.Shedidnow.
“I’mnotgoingtowaitforhertocomeoutanylonger.”
“Youshouldn’thavewaitedaminute
,”sheagreed,sippingmyfinescotch.ThingsweredirebetweenFrancescaandmeifSterlingresortedtodrinking.Shehadn’tdrunkanalcoholicbeverageintwodecades.
“Thenwhydidyoutellmetowait?”Iflippedovertheplatewiththeprimerib,sendingitflyingacrossthekitchen.Itcrashedagainstthewall.
“Iwantedyoutosufferthewayshedid.”Sheshrugged,standingupandwalkingoutofthekitchen,leavingmetostewinthefactthatIdid
,infact,suffer.
Ifixedmyselfaglassofbourbon,heavyontherocks,andmademywaytotheeastwing.Nem’sbedroomdoorwasclosed,andIpushedithalfwayopenwithoutknocking,outofhabit,beforethinkingthebetterofit.
Ibrushedmyknucklesovertheoakwoodofherdoor.
“MayIcomein?”Myvoicefeltstiffandrigid.
Ididnotaskforpermissiontodoanything.
AndIwasnotfondoftheideaofmakingitahabit.
Noanswer.
Ipressedmyheadtothehardsurfaceandclosedmyeyes,breathingintracesofherscent.Themandarinshampoosheused.Thesweet,vanillalotionthatmadeherskinglow.Thethoughtshewassosoreshemighthaveneededtogotothedoctor’stodayflashedthroughmymind,accompaniedbyanevenmoreunsettlingidea—Francescawouldn’ttellmeifshewastoosore.Shewouldclingtotheremainderofherpride.ThesameprideIstrippedoffherviciouslyinmyquesttoavengesomethingthatdidnotreallyhappen.
Ipushedthedooropen,findingmyfiancéesplayedonherfour-posterbed,staringatnothing.Ifollowedherlineofvision.Itwasablankspotonthewallthatcapturedherattention.ShedidnotsomuchasblinkwhenIsteppedin.
Imademywaytoher,satontheedgeofherbed,andtookasipofmybourbon,handingitovertoher.Sheignoredbothmeandthedrink.
“I’msorry,”Irasped.
“Goaway,”shegroaned.
“I’mnotsurethat’sanoption,”Iadmittedfrankly.“Themoreyouthinkaboutwhathappened,themoreyou’llhateme.”
“Ishould
hateyou.”
Itookanothersipofmydrink.Iwasn’tgoingtoarguemydefense.Itwasinexcusablewhethershetoldmeshewasavirginornot.“Thatmaybetrue,butwe’dbothsufferifyoudo.AndalthoughIdeservemyfairshareofsuffering—”Isaid,andshecutthroughmywords.
“Yes,yes,youdo.”
“Ido,”Iagreed,myvoicetoosoftformyearstobelieveitwasmine,“butyoudon’t.You’vedonenothingwrong.AndwhileI’mnotagoodman,Iamnotaterribleone,either.”
Shelookeddownatherhands,inspectingthemasshetriednottocry.ThefactthatIknewhowFrancesca’salmost-cryingfacelookedlikeprovedthatI’dbeenlessthananidealfiancétoher.
“Whydidn’tyoutellmeyouwereavirgin?”
Shechuckled,shakingherhead.
“You’dalreadymadeupyourmindaboutmebeforeIevenopenedmymouthatthemasquerade.Andfrankly,Ididn’tmuchcarewhatyouthoughtofme.Butyesterday,Itoldyou…no,Irepeatedly
toldyouIdidn’tsleepwithAngelo.Threetimes.SoIthinkthebetterquestionis—whydidn’tyou
believeme
?”
Igaveitsomethought.“Itmadedislikingyoueasier.”
“Whatacoincidence.Youractionsmademedislikeyou,fiercely.”Shecrossedherarmsoverherchest,lookingaway.
“Idonotdislikeyouanymore,Nemesis.”
Ididn’thateher.Irespectedher.Evenmoresosinceshedidn’tletherpridegetinthewayyesterday.Shegotdownonherkneestoproveapoint.ThatIwasabastard,andthatshewasspeakingthetruth.Itookherpurityandknewthatinordertofixthis,Iwouldneedtogivehersomeofmyownpride.
ApricebeyondanythingI’deveragreedtopay.AsecuritydeposittomakesureIcouldkeepmyfiancée,notonlyphysicallybutinthesamementalstatefrompriortoourengagementparty.Thesamefiancéewhorubbedhersoft,littlebodyallovermineinhervegetablegardeneveryevening,gaspinginaweeverytimeI“accidentally”touchedherclitthroughthefabricofherdress
“Putyourhandsaboveyourhead,”Isaid,turningaroundtofaceher.
Shearchedaneyebrow,stillstaringatthewall.
“Ifyoucontinuestaringatit,I’llhavetogiveyouagoodreasonto.”
“Suchas?”Ipiquedherinterest.Thatwasmyin.
“I’mthinkingaboutalife-sizeportraitofmyself.”
“Myideaofanightmare,”shemumbled.
“WithSterlingstandingabovemyseatedfigure,holdingoneofhernovels.”
Shebitherlowerlip,stiflingasmile.“You’renotfunny,Senator.”
“Thatmaybe,butI’llhaveplentyoftimetofindyourbrandofhumor.Handsaboveyourhead,Nem.”
Sheturnedherheadtolookatme,hereyestwopoolsofmisery.MiseryIcreated,addingdropsofiteverysingledayIkeptherhere.Ididn’tlookaway.Ifacedtheresultofmysins.
“I’mstillsore.”Shewasfirsttobreaktheeyecontact,lookingdown.
“Iknow,”Iwhispered.“I’maskingyoutotrustme.”
“WhyshouldItrustyou?”
“Becauseifyoustoptrusting,you’llenduplikeme,andthat’samiserableexistence.”
Hesitantly,shecurledherfingersaroundtheedgeoftheheadboard.Myheartsqueezedattheimplicationofherobedience.Sheworethesamesimple,pastellilacnightgownthatshe’dcoveredherselfwithyesterday.Itrodeuphersmooth,milkywhitethighs.Idraggedmyhandfrommykneetoherinnerthigh,massagingthesensitiveareaforafewminutes,looseningherbundledmuscles.Atfirst,shewasasstiffasastone,butwhenImovedtotheotherthighandsherealizedIwasn’tgoingtogoanywherenorthwithoutherpermission,shebegantorelaxundermyhands.
“Iwon’thurtyou,”Iassuredher,slidingherunderweargentlydownherthighs,“inthebedroom,”Ifinished
“Youdidyesterday,”shepointedout.
“AndIapologizeforthat.Fromhereonout,I’llmakesureitwillalwaysbegoodforyou.”
“Yousaidyoudon’tcareaboutmakingitgoodforwomen.”
IsaidthosewordsbeforeInearlyrapedyou.
NotthatIactuallydidintheeyesofthedrylaw.Sheaskedforit.Shebegged
forit.Gotdownonherkneesforit.Butitwastoproveapoint.Webothknewshedidn’tenjoyit.WebothknewItooksomethingfromherIdidnotdeserve.
HereyesmetmineasIspreadherthighs,slidingmythumbstowardherslitandrubbingcirclesinthesensitiveareanearhergroin.Ididnotbowdowntoanyone,muchlessaRossi.ButIwasn’tbowingdowntoNemesis,Iwasmerelymakingmyownpoint.Thatsexwasgreat,ifdoneright,andifbothparticipantswereonthesamewavelength.
“Don’tmoveyourhands,”Iordered,myvoicehardeningwithlust.Isawherchestrisingandfallinginamixofanticipationandfear.Icouldworkwiththat.HerlegsquiveredwithadrenalinebeforeIevenlaidmytongueonher.Islidhernightgownupandtosseditoverhershoulder,exposingherpink,coin-likenipples.
Wretchedlygorgeous.
Wickedlyinnocent.
Irrevocablymine.
Aftershewascompletelyexposedtome,Itookoffmyshoes,socks,dresspants,blazer,anddressshirtuntilIremainedwithnothingbutmyblackArmanibriefs.AnotherthingIdidn’tdooften—getnakedinfrontofawoman.Sexwasn’tindulgent.Forme,itwasanoutlet.Irarelyfuckedmyflingsinabed,optingforquickies,andevenwhenIdid,itusuallydidn’tlastpastmyclimax.Nemesisstaredatmyhard-onthroughmybriefs,curiosityanddreadswimminginherceruleaneyes.
“Doyouwanttoseeit?”
Shenodded,blushing.Somethinginsidemeburnedhot.
“Wouldyouliketoseeallofme?Youwillnothavetotouchme.Tonight’sallaboutyou.”
Sheswallowed,bitingthecornerofherlowerlip.Carefully,Itookdownmybriefs,standingcompletelynakedinfrontofher.Icouldn’trememberthelasttimethathappenedandtriedreasonwithmyselfthattheconceptofmarryingsomeoneforcedyouintoloweringyourwalls,butthatdidn’tmeantheyweregoingtobebroken.TherewasgoingtobealotofbathroomandJacuzziandshowerandmirrorsexintheyearstocome.Itmadenodifferenceifshesawmenakedtoday,tomorrow,orinamonth.Ijoinedherinherbedandsettledbetweenherlegs,cuppinghercheeks.Iloweredmyselfdowntoherandkissedher,gentlyatfirst,beforesqueezingherjawopen,wrestlingmytongueagainsthers,lickingthecornersofhermouthandsuckingherlowerlipthewaythatdrovehercrazy.
Hermusclememorykickedininstantly,andsherememberedallthetimesbeforelastnight.Shemoaned,respondingtomypeaceofferingbyremovingherhandsfromtheheadboardandtracingmyjawwithherfingers.
Itookherwristsandplacedherhandsbackontheheadboard.
“Patience,Nem,isavirtue.”
“WhichIdon’thave.”Shemomentarilyforgotthatshewasmadatme,grinninglikethesweetteenagershewas.
“Whichyou’llhavetolearn,beingthewifeofasenator.”Ichuckedherunderthechin—thatwasmyMO—thenkissedheragainwithmoreabandon,andpassion,andfury.Shegaveintomecompletely,andItrailedmykissesdownherneckandbetweenherbreasts,beforetakingoneofhernipplesandsuckingitintomymouth.Itpebbledbetweenmyteeth,andItuggedatitsoftlyenoughnottoscareher,butherbodystilljerkedinfear.Imovedtotheothernipple,rubbingtheoneI’djustsuckedwithmythumb,andwhenshebracedherselfforthesametreatment,Ilickedapatternaroundit,blowingcoldaironthesensitive,wetskin.Sheshudderedagainstme,anothergroanslippingpastherlips.
Francescawasatentativewoman,andIhadnodoubt,despitethepoorintroductionI’dgivenhertosex,shewouldbeafastlearner.
Islidmytonguedownthecenterofherchest,dippingitinsidehernavel,thenbegantotracewetkissesonherinnerthighsandjustaboveherslit.Iknewbythepatchesoffadeddrybloodmarkingherthighsthatshe’dyettotakeashowersinceyesterday.ItseemedfittingthatIwouldlickherbetter,tastingmyownsemenonherskin,knowingthatitwasawfullyunhygienic,butthatIcouldn’taskhertoshower.Notforme.Shegroaned,thrustinghergroinintomyface,herknuckleswhiteningwiththestrainitputherundernottotouchme.
“Holdstill.”
“Sorry.”Somethingthatsoundedalotlikeagigglefellfromherlusciouslips.
IlovedthatsheletmedothistoherdespitethebastardI’dbeentohersofar.Ididn’tfinditdocile.Itshowedthatshehadcourageandthegutstofacemeinbed,afterall.Ialsolovedthatshewassoinnocent.Neitherwaxednorgroomedforsex.Islidmyhandstothebackofherthighsandgrabbedherasscheeks,elevatingherupasIstartedlickingashallowtracealongherslit.Itwasredandengorgedfromyesterday,andIhatedmyselfwithapassionIusuallyreservedforherfather.
“You’redelicious,”Isaidhoarsely.
“Oh,”shesqueakedaboveme,panting,“thisis…wow.Yeah.”
Islidmytonguebetweenherfolds.Ihadn’tgonedownonawomaninoveradecade,butifsomeonewasworthtasting,itwasmyfuturewife.Herbodycoiledalittleatfirst,thenloosenedasshespreadherthighswiderandletmepushmytongueallthewayin,fightingagainstthetightnessofherpussy.Shewastense—notsurprising,consideringeverythingshewentthroughyesterday—andstillextremelysmall.Theideaofthrustingmyfatcockintoheragain,andsoon,mademyerectionstrainagainstherbloodiedlinen.Ifeltitthrobbing,mypulsesmashingagainstmyballs.
Afterafewminutesoflickingher,Iflickedmytongueinandoutofher.Shemoaned,herbodyrockingwithpleasureasshebecamelooserandlessself-conscious.Shepeekedatme,crackingopenoneeye.Herhipmetmyfacetimeaftertimeasshechasedmytongue,hernipplessohard,Icouldn’thelpbutplaywiththemsimultaneously.Iputpressureonherclit,suckingandswirlingmytonguearounditforlongminutes,prolongingherorgasmeverytimeshewasclosebyabandoningherclitandlickingatastainofbloodonherinnerthigh.Aftertwentyminutes,Idecidedshecouldhaveherclimax.Iclosedmylipsonherlittlenubandsuckeditsohard,shescreamed.Francescaquakedaroundmyfaceasherfirstorgasmshotthroughher,andherhandslefttheheadboard,findingmyhairandyankingatitbrutally.Ifelttheburninmyscalpbutdidn’trelent.Instead,Ireachedformybourbonandfishedoutanicecube,suckingthealcoholoutofitbeforeslidingitbetweenthesorelipsofherpussyasIdrewherclitwithlessferocitynow,sendingherintoanotherclimaxthatcrashedintoherandmadehermoansoloudthewindowsnearlyrattled.
Thereweretwomoreorgasmsafterthat.
“Canyouteachmehowtotouchaman?”sheaskedwhenweweredone,andshewasproppedagainsttheheadboard,mebesideher,stillnakedandhard.
“No,”Ideadpanned.“Icanteachyouhowtotouchme.Touchingothermeninthislifetimeisnotlookinggoodforyou,Nem.”
Itwasstupidtothinkaboutthatkid,Angelo,atthatmoment.Theneedtomakehimgoawayhitmesomewheredarkandprimal.Isparedherthepartwherehesetherupandmademebelievethatheactuallyfuckedher.She’dhadenoughofashittynightyesterday,thankstoyourstruly.
Shewrappedthesheetsaroundherbody,tappingherchin,asifcontemplatingwhethersheshouldsaythenextthing.
“Whatyousawinthegarden…”Shehesitated.Iwantedtotellhernottobother,butthetruthwas,Iwasinterestedtoknowwhathappened.Wherethey’dbothdisappearedto.
“MyfatherpushedmetotalktoAngelo.AfterBishopapproachedyou,Angeloofferedtotaketheconversationsomewherewedidn’thavetoshoutoverotherpeople’svoices.ItoldhimIdidn’thateithere.WhichIguesswastrueuntillastnight.Hegotupsetandwalkedoff.Iwentupstairstomyroom,andonmywayup,mycousintoldmeheslippedintoaguestroomwiththeblondereporterwhowastryingtocoaxBishopintoaninterview.”
Kristen.
Thelittlewitchsetmeup,andAngeloplayedalong.IwonderediftheyknewhowfarI’dgo.Theyweregoingtopayforthatlittlestunt.ToobadthetwoassholesweretakenwithFrancescaandmyself.They’dmakeafittingcouple.
Francescachewedonalockofherhair.“Mymomwasinmyroom.I’dseenherfromthegarden,andwetalkedforawhile.”
Pause.
“Mydadischeatingonher.”
“I’msorry,”Isaid.Iwas.Notforherparents.Hermotherletmetakeherdaughteraway.ButforFrancescaherself,whohadtodealwiththefallofherfamilyoveraperiodofafewshortweeks.
“Thankyou.”
TherewasnotraceofhostilityinFrancesca’svoice.God,shewassweet,andshewasallmine.Notjustherbodybutalsoherwordsandhercourage.
Iknew,withoutashadowofadoubt,thatmyfuturewife’spussywasgoingtobeonmydailymenufromthisdayforward.Iputmyglassonhernightstandandturnedaroundtoher,pressingakissonherforehead.
“Goeatyourdinner,Nem.”
“I’mnothungry.”Sheshiftedandwinced.Shewasstillsoreallover,andImadeamentalnotetohaveSterlingprovideherwithanewwarmwashclotheverynightforthenextweek.
“Youcan’tlookfamishedatthewedding,”Iretorted.
Shesighed,rollinghereyes.“What’sfordinner?”
Iwasstillsittingnakednexttoher,ignoringthevulnerabilityofmyposition.Intimacywastooawkwardformyliking.
“Primeribandsautéedasparagus.”
Shescrunchedhernose.“IthinkI’llpass.”
Suchateenager.
“Whatdoyoufeellikeeating?”
“Idon’tknow,waffles?Idon’tnormallycravesweetthings,butI’vehadtheworstday.”
Mynostrilsflared.Iwassuchapieceofshittoher.
“Dinerdowntheroadservesthem.Thickandfluffy.Comeon.Wecouldusethefreshair.”
“It’seleveno’clock.”Sheshiftedhergazetoherwristwatch,herteethsinkingtoherlowerlipwithunease.
“It’sopentwenty-fourhours.”
“Uhm.Okay.Together?”
Igrazedherchin.Again
.“Yes.Together.”
“Youdon’tstrikemeasawaffle-eatingman.”
“True,butImighteatyou
fordessertwhenwecomeback.It’sbeenawhilesinceI’vedonethat,andquitefrankly,pussyhasnevertastedasgoodasyours.”
Shereddenedinaninstant,lookingaway.“Yourcomplimentsarestrange.”
“Iamstrange.”
“Youare,”shesaid,munchingonherlowerlip.“Andthat’sthepartofyouIdisliketheleast.”
Istoodup,casuallyslippingintomyclothesagain.Much,much
better.Lessvulnerability.Morebarriers.Thensomethingoccurredtome.
“Tomorrowisyourfirstdayofcollege.”
Ofcourse,Francescaoptedtostartcollegeaweekbeforeherwedding.Wewerebothrelievednottohavetoplanashamhoneymoon.Backwhenwehadourverbaldeal,wecouldbarelypretendtostandeachother.
“Yeah.I’mexcited.”Sheofferedmeasmallsmile,scurryingtowardherwalk-inclosetandslippingintooneofherdresses.
“Who’sdrivingyou?”
Shedidn’thaveadriver’slicense,andIhatedherparentsforneverbotheringtoteachher.Shewasalmostlikeatropicalfishtothem.Gorgeousinherfancyaquarium,buttheyputnoeffortintonurturingher.
“Smithy,ofcourse.”
Ofcourse.
Mybloodwasstillmakingitswayfrommydickbacktomybrain.
“Time?”
“Eighto’clock.”
“I’lldriveyou.”
“Okay.”
“Okay,”Irepeated.Ihadabsolutelynoideawhatcameoverme.Notaboutthewaffles,andnotaboutdrivingherthere.Upuntilnow,Iofferedherindependenceonlywhensheaskedforit,danglingademandoverherhead.If
shedidthis,then
shecouldhavethat.Aswemadeourwaydownstairs,InoticedSterlingsittingatthekitchentable,readingabookandsmiling.Ibetshewasquitesmug,knowingI’dgoneupstairstogetbackinmyfuturewife’sgoodgraces.Iwipedmymouth,thenlickedmylipsfortracesofmyfiancée.
“Notaword,”IwarnedSterlingasFrancescawenttogetherjacket.
Shezippedherlipswithherfingers
Francescaappearedatthekitchendoor.Iturnedaround,lacingherarminmine.WepouredintothestarlessChicagonight.
“Villain?”
“Yes,Nemesis?”
“DoyouthinkSmithymightbeabletoteachmehowtodrive?”
Shewantedherwingsback.
Shehadeveryrighttothem.IknewsinceIwantedherprotectedfromeveryonearoundher.Includingme.
“FuckSmithy,Nem.I’llteachyou.”THEREMAININGWEEKBEFOREOUR
wedding,Wolfecametomybedroomeverysinglenight.
Wedidnothavesex,buthedidlickmedownthereuntilIcame.EverytimeIreachedaclimax,he’dsuckmylips—theonesbetweenmylegs—andlaughlikethedevil.Sometimeshewouldrubhimselfagainstmystomachthroughourclothes,thenretiretomybathroom.Whenhecamebacktothebedroomtokissmegoodnightbeforeheleft,hischeekswerealwaystintedpink.
Oneofthetimes,heaskedifhecouldcomeonme.Isaidyes,mainlybecauseIwasn’tentirelysureifitmeantwhatIthinkitmeant.Herubbedagainstme,andwhenhewasready,hetookhimselfoutandclimaxedbetweenmybreasts,allovermynightgown.
ApartofmewantedtosleepwithhimtoshowhimthatIforgavehimbecauseasmuchasIhatedtoadmitit—anddespitemyself—Idid
forgivehim.Butanotherpartofmewasterrifiedofhavingsexagain.Iwasstillsorefromtheincident,andeverytimeherubbedagainstme,Irememberedtheawfulnighthedroveintomeinonego.ButthenI’dpushthememoryasideandforcemyselftothinkhappythoughts.
Asmuchasourrelationshiphadimprovedafterourengagementpartynight,westillweren’tarealcouple.Wesleptinseparatewingsofthehouse,somethinghe’dwarnwouldhappenfortherestofourdays.Helimitedhisattentiontowardmetoonlythenighttime.Wewouldhavedinnertogether,thenretirebacktoourdesignatedrooms.Then,ashorthourafterIshoweredandslippedintoasexynightgown,hewouldknockonmydoor,andI’dbereadyforhim,withmythighsopenandthethingbetweenthemachingforhistouchandtongueandmouth.
Ifeltdirtyforwhatwedid.I’dbeentaughtthatsexwasawaytogetpregnantandpleaseyourhusband,notsomethingyoushoulddesiretodosofrequently.YethavingWolfelickmetherewasall
Iwantedtodo,allday,everyday.Evennow,whenIwenttocollegeandmadeaconsciousefforttomeetnewpeopleandgetagriponmyclassschedule,theonlythingIcouldthinkaboutwashisnoseandmouthburieddeepinsidemeashemumbledfilthy,degradingthingsaboutmybodythatmademoreandmorewetnessleakfromme.
Ididn’tmakeanefforttomakefriends,ortoopenup,ortoformalifeofmyown.Iwantedtodomyhomework,attendallmylectures,andhavetheBig,BadWolfeeatmeout.
Thedaybeforeourwedding,WolfewasinhishomeofficeandIwasgardeningoutsidewhenIheardthedoorbellring.SinceIknewMs.Sterlingwasupstairs,readingoneofherless-than-innocentbooks(Iwasnolongerinapositiontojudgeher,though),Itookoffmygardeninggloves,rosetomyfeet,andmademywayintothehouse.Throughthepeephole,Isawitwasmyfatherandhisbodyguards.Mypulsequickened.Washetryingtomakeamends?
Iflungthefrontdooropenandwaspushedtotheside.Mybackslammedagainstthedoorashestompedin.
“Whereishe?”heclipped.Histwobodyguardstrailedbehindhim.Ifurrowedmybrows.Hedidn’tevensayhellotome.Aftereverythinghe’ddoneatourengagementparty—invitingthedodgiestpeoplethestatehadtooffertotryandhurtWolfe’sreputation,nottomentionthrowingKristenandAngelointothemix—hedidn’tevenaffordmeanoffhandpleasantry.Whatajerk.
Iclosedthedoorbehindthem,straighteningmyback.Ifeltoddlysecureinmydomain.IhadnoillusionsaboutWolfe’sfeelingsforme,butIdidknowthathewouldnothaveanyonedisrespectingmeinmyownhouse.
“Isheexpectingyou?”Idrawled,playingdumb.Truly,Iwassickofhim.Sickofhimcheatingonmymotherandsellinghisdaughtertothehighestbidder.Myfatherwasselfish,andheallowedittohurthisfamily.
Myfathersneered,“Gethimhere.Now.”
“DoyouordoyounothaveanappointmentwithSenatorKeaton?”Ibravedmyfear,raisingmyvoiceslightly.
Iamthewind.Strongandevasiveandeverywhere.Hecan’ttouchme.
Hescannedmehead-to-toe.“Whoare
you?”
“WolfeKeaton’sfuturewife,”Iansweredwithfauxobedience.“Whoareyou
?”
“Yourfather.Thoughyouseemtohaveforgottenthat.”
“Youhaven’tbeenactinglikeafather.Maybethat’swhy.”Ifoldedmyarmsovermychest,ignoringthereddeningfacesofhistwoguards.Helookedintoxicated,swayingalittle,hisfaceashadetooredforitjusttobethesummerweather.
Hewavedmeoffimpatiently.“I’mnottheonewhohaschanged,Francesca.You’retheonegoingofftocollegeandtalkingaboutgettingajob.”
“Beingindependentisnotadisease,”Igrittedout.“Butthat’snotyourissuewithme.YourissuewithmeisthatInowbelongtoamanwhowantstoruinyou,andyouarenolongersurewheremyloyaltylies.”
Thecatwasoutofthebag,andeventhoughIstoodbehindeveryword,itdidn’tmakeitanylesspainful.Hetookasteptowardme,andwewerenosetonose.WefeltdifferentatthatmomentEqual
“Wheredoesyourloyaltylie,mascalzone?”Rascal.
HeusedtocallmethatwhenIwasakid.ItalwaysmademegigglebecauseinSpanishitsoundedlikemáscalzones.Moreunderpants.
Istareddeepintohisicyblueeyes,leanedforward,andwhisperedintohisface.
“Me,Papa.Myloyaltywillalwaysbewithme
.”
Hesneered,brushingalockofhairoffmyforeheadgently.Imperialasever,evendrunk.“Tellme,figlia,doesitnotbotheryouthatyourfuturehusbandencouragesyoutogetaneducationandajob?Doyounotthinkperhapshedoesn’twanttokeepyoulongenoughtotakecareofyou,sohemakessureyoucantakecareofyourself?”
Iopenedmymouth,thenclampeditshut.WhenIwantedtomarryAngelo,Ialsoknewthatmyfatherwouldalwayshavethispoweroverhim.Hecouldn’tdivorceme,tossmeaside,orwrongme.Wolfe,however,didnotanswertoArthurRossi.Hedidnotanswertoanyone.
“That’swhatIthought.”Myfatherlaughed.“Takemetoseehim.”
“Iwillnot…”Istarted,thenstoppedwhenIheardthesoundofheavyfeetbehindme.
“ArthurRossi.Whatanunpleasantsurprise,”myfiancésaidfrombehindme.Iturnedaround,hatingthebutterfliesthattookflightinmychestwhenhearrived.HatingthatthefirstthingIsawwashowmuchtallerandmoreimpressivehewasthanPapa.Andabsolutelydespisinghowmythighsclenchedandmypantiesdampenedatthesightofhim.
Wolfedescendedthestairsinleisuredsteps,passingmebywithoutacknowledgingmyexistenceashecamefacetofacewithmyfather.Theystaredeachotherintheeye.Iinstantlyknewthatsomethingelsehadhappened.Somethingmuchbiggerthanthestuntmyfatherpulledattheengagementparty.
“Youraidedthepier,”myfatherhissed,gettinginhisface.ItwasthefirsttimeIsawmyfatherlosecontroloverhisvoice.Itwasbrittlearoundtheedges,likeawrinklypieceofpaper.Hisfacewassoswollenandred,hewasbarelyrecognizable.Thelastfewweekshadobviouslybeeneventfulbetweenthem,butitonlyshowedononeofthem.“Yousentcopswhenyouknewwe’dbethere.Thirteenofmymenareinjail.”
Wolfesmiled,pluckingthehandkerchieffrommyfather’sblazer’spocketandusingittodisposeoftheguminhismouth,tuckingitbackinneatlyandpattingthepocket.“That’swheretheyshouldbe.Francesca,leave,”heorderedme,histonesteel.Hewasadifferentmanfromtheonewhovisitedmybedroomeverynight.Notevenrelatedtothemanwhotookmetoeatwafflesinthemiddleofthenight,thencamebacktolickmeagainandagainuntilmythighssqueezedhisface.
“But…”Istarted.MyfatherturnedaroundfromWolfetosnapatme.
“Isentyouanobedient,well-manneredgirl,andlookathernow.She’swild,talksback,anddoesn’tevenfollowyourorders.Youthinkyoucancrushme?Youcan’tevenhandlemyteenagedaughter.”
Wolfewasstillstaringathim,smirkingandnotpayinganyattentiontome,whenIshookmyheadand,deflated,mademywayoutsidetothegarden.Iputmygardeningglovesbackon,thenlitacigarette.AsIcroucheddown,internallycursingmyfatherandmyfiancéfortreatingmelikeadumbkidforthemillionthtime,Inoticedsomethingpeculiarpeekingfromtheedgeofthevegetablegarden.ArustydoorleadingtowhatIassumedwasthemansion’spantry.Itwaslacedwithivy,butIcouldtellthatitwasrecentlyusedsincetheivywastornaroundtheedges.Istoodbackupandsaunteredtowardit,yankingthehandle.Itopenedeasily.Itookastepin,realizingthatitdidnotleadtothepantry,buttothelaundryroomrightnexttothefoyer.MyfatherandWolfenolongerhadtheprivacyofthedouble-glazedbalconydoors.Icouldhearthemthroughthethin,woodendoorofthelaundryroom.Iwasn’tsupposedtoeavesdrop,butIfiguredtheydeserveditforkeepingsomanysecretsfrommeinthefirstplace.Ipressedmyearagainstthedoor.
“WhereIcomefrom,SenatorKeaton,wordshavemeanings,anddealsarehonored,”myfatherhissed.“IgaveyouFrancesca,yetyouseemadamantaboutruiningwhat’smine.”
“Weseemtobeinthesameboat.Ihaveabriefcasemissingwithyourfingerprintsalloverit.”Wolfechuckleddarkly.
“Notmydoing.”
“Aren’tmenintheChicagoOutfitsupposedtopridethemselvesinneverstabbingamaninthebackandalwaystellingthetruth?”
“I’veneverstabbedanyoneintheback,”myfathersaidcautiously,“andMurphy’swasanunfortunateincident,whichIamsuretheIrishwillbenefitfromoncetheinsurancekicksin.”
“Let’stalkaboutthepeprally,”Wolfecontinued.Theonewheretherewereshootings?Iheardaboutitbrieflyinthenewsbutknewthatnobodygothurt.Aderangedkidwhoplayedtoomanyviolentvideogames,theysaid.Itwasonthesamedaythestockmarketfell,andnoonemadeafussofit.
“Whataboutit?”Myfathercrushedhisteethtogether.Icouldhearitclearlyevenpastthedoor.
“You’reluckyyou’restilloutandabout,andnotlockedupwiththeshooter,”Wolfesaid.
“I’moutandaboutbecauseyouhavenoproof.”
“NeitherdoyouthatIhadanythingtodowiththepier.Butthecherryontheshitcakewasn’tmyattemptedassassination.No.Thatwashalf-bakedandcompletelyamateur.Itwastheengagementparty.”
Ichokedonmyownsaliva.Myfathertriedtoassassinatemyhusband.Andmyhusbanddidn’teventellme.Hehid
itfromtheworld,essentiallyprotectingmyfather.Why?
“Areyouseriouslycomparingsendingoffmyfrivolousdaughtertoflirtwithherchildhoodcrushatapartytolockingupthirteenofmymen?”ArthurRossispatout.Itwasthesecondtimehisvoicerose.Realrivalrydidchangehimandnotforthebest.
“Yourdaughterisneitherfrivolous,norissheaflirt.Sheis,however,mysoon-to-bewife,andI’mgrowingtiredofyoudisrespectingher.Iwillalsonothaveyoupushherintoanyone’sarms,muchlesssomeoneshewasfondofwhenshewasyounger.Infact,foreverytimeyouactupconcerningFrancesca,orputmyreputationinjeopardyasyoudidduringtheengagementparty,Iwillkilloneofyourbusinesses.Thepier.Arestaurant.Perhapsapokerjoint.Thelistisendless,andIhavethemeansandthetime.Getthispastthatthickskullofyours—sheisminenow.Idecideifsheworks,whereshestudies,andinwhatpositionsIwanttofuckher.Furthermore,eliminatingmefromtheequationwillnotwork.NotonlydidIspreadtheevidenceonyouindifferentplaces,securedbydifferentpeople,butIalsohavewrittenlettersinstructingmytrusteeswhattodoincaseofmyuntimelydeath.”
Hetalkedasthoughhewasgoingtodoterriblethingstome.ButIdidn’tbelievehim.Notanymore.Thispastweek,hehadputmyphysicalneedsbeforehisown.Heobviouslysaidthesewordstopissmyfatheroff,butInolongercaredwhyhe’dsaidthem.Ifhetrulycaredaboutmypride,hewouldstopflauntingoursexlifelikethatinfrontofmyfather.Iheardsomethingsmash—avaseoraglass—andWolfechucklingenigmatically.
“WhatmakesyouthinkBishopandWhitewillletyougetawaywithit?”
“Thefactthattheyare
lettingmegetawaywithit.Ihavetheupperhandinthisgameofcards.Youwillplaybymyrulesorloseyourhand.Thereisnootheroption.”
“IwilltakeFrancescaaway,”myfatherthreatened,hisvoicelackingthatsameicyauthoritythatusuallylacedhisspeech.Iswallowedbackascream.Nowhewantedtotakemeback?Iwasn’tatoy.Iwasahumanbeingwhohadgrownoddlyattachedtomyfuturehusband.Besides,nooneinTheOutfitwasgoingtowanttohavemenow,especiallyafterWolfehadtakenmyvirginity.
Only,myfatherdidn’tknowthat.
Evenifhesuspectedit—heobviouslydidn’tcare.
Wolfedid.Wolfehadthepotentialtoruinmylifenow.Hegotwhathewanted.Myvirginityandreputation.Hecouldendthistoday.Itwouldbeenoughhumiliationformyfather.Sweatclungtothebackofmyneckatthethought.IttookforeverforWolfetospeakagain
“Youwillnot.”
“Howareyousosure?”
“YouloveTheOutfitmorethanyouloveyourdaughter,”hesaidsimply.Anarrowofvenompiercedmyheart.Thisiswhyhumansinventedlies
,Ithought.Nootheranimalinnaturelies.Thetruthisruthless.Itcutsyouopen,shovingyourfaceintothemud.Itforcesyoutolookrealityintheeyeanddealwithit.Tofeeltherealweightoftheworldthatyoulivein.
“Andyou?”Papaasked.“Howdoyoufeelaboutmydaughter?”
“Ifeelpositiveshewillbeadelighttofuckanddecentarmcandy,whichIcanquietlyreplacewhenherexpirydatearrives,”Wolfesaidgood-naturedly.Iwantedtothrowup.Icouldfeeltheacidbubblinginmystomach,makingitswaytomythroat.Iwasabouttoopenthedoorandconfrontthemboth.Howdaretheytalkaboutmelikethis?Butthesecondmyhandgraspedthedoorhandle,Ifeltsomeoneclaspingmyshoulderfrombehind.Iturnedaroundinthedarkenedroom.ItwasMs.Sterling.Sheshookherhead,hereyesalmostbulgingoutoftheirsockets.
“Heisaggravatingyourfather,”sheenunciatedeveryword,slatingherchindownandforcingmeintoeyecontact.
Therewasacommotionoutsidethedoor.Myfatherwasshouting,cursinginItalian,asWolfelaughed,theprovocative,throatytiltofhisvoicedancingonthewallsandceiling.Iheardthescreechingofmyfather’sshoesdraggingalongthemarblefloorandknewthathisbodyguardspulledhimoutbeforeheembarrassedhimselfanyfurther.ItwasloudenoughoutsideformetoconfrontMs.Sterlingwithoutthemhearingus.
“Howdoyouknowthat?”Iasked,wipingawayangry,hottearsfrommyeyes.Iwascryingagain.IcouldcountononehandthenumberofdaysIhadn’tcriedsinceWolfewalkedintomylife.
“BecauseIknowhowhefeelsaboutyourfather,andrightnow,hishatredtowardyourfathertrumpshisaffectionforyou.Butthingsareshifting,mydear.Allthetime.”
Ms.Sterlinghadtodragmebackoutside,closingthesecretdoorwithprecise,carefulmovementssoWolfewouldn’thearus.Sheglancedaroundtomakesurethecoastwasclear,beforegrabbingmywristandusheringmetothepavilion.Sheparkedherwrinkly,bluishhandsonherhips,sittingmedowninfrontofher.Forthesecondtimethatday,Ifeltlikeapunishedkid.
“HowcanWolfeevenlikemewhenhehatesmyfamilywithsuchpassion?”Idraggedahandthroughmyhair,wishingIhadacigarette.
Ms.Sterlinglookeddown,momentarilyspeechless.Imadeagoodpoint.Hersheerwhitebobdancedhereandthereasshescratchedherhead.
“Heishalfwayinlove,Francesca.”
“Heisinhatewithmyfatherandinlustwithme.”
Therewasabeatofsilencebeforeshespokeagain.
“MylastnameisnotSterling,andIamnotwhoIseemtobe.IactuallygrewupnottoomanyblocksfromyouinLittleItaly.”
Ilookedup,frowning.Ms.SterlingwasItalian?Shewasstrikinglypale.Thenagain,sowasI.Sowasmyfather.Mymotherwasdarker,butIinheritedmyfather’slooks.AnotherreasonIfearedWolfehatedme.Ikeptquiet,listeningtoher.
“SomethingIdidwhenIwasyoungandconfusedmademestartover.Iwastopickalastname,anylastname,andIpickedSterlingafterWolfe’seyes.I’mnotproudofsomeofthethingsIdidtoyoungWolfeKeatonwhenhewastoodefenselesstostandupforhimself,buthestillforgaveme.Hisheartisnotasblackasyouthinkitis.Itbeatsfiercelyfortheonesheloves.Itjustsohappensthat…”Ms.Sterlingblinked,chokingonherwords,“allthepeoplehelovesaredead.”
Ibegantopaceinthepavilionoverlookingthegarden.Thesummerflowersburstinpurplesandpinks.Myvegetablegardengrewnicely,too.Iinjectedlifeintothislittleland,andIhoped—perhapsevenfoolishlybelieved—thatIcoulddothesamewithmyfuturehusband.Istopped,kickingalittlestone
“Mypointis,Francesca,hishearthastakenquiteafewhits.Heiscallousedandmean,especiallytothosewhohavewrongedhim,butheisnotamonster.”
“Doyouthinkhecanloveagain?”Iaskedquietly.
“Doyouthinkyou
can?”Ms.Sterlingretortedwithatiredsmile.Igroaned.Ofcourse,Icould.ButIwasalsoaforlorndreamerwithalousyreputationofapersonwhoinsistedonseeingthegoodinalmosteveryone.Myfathercalleditnaiveté.Icalledithope.
“Yes,”Iadmitted.“Myhearthasroomforhim.Hejustneedstoclaimit.”Myhonestyrattledme.Ididn’tknowwhyIopeneduptoMs.Sterlinglikethis.Maybebecauseshedidthesametome,offeringmeaclandestinepeekintoherownlife.
“Then,mydeargirl”—shecuppedmycheekswithhercold,veinyhands—“toansweryourquestion,Wolfeiscapableoffeelingwhateveryoufeeltowardhimbutmuch,muchstronger.Moreresilientandmorepowerful.Foreverythinghedoes,hedoesthoroughlyandbrilliantly.Mostofall,love.”
I’daskedMs.SterlingtotellWolfenottocometomybedthatnight,andhehadn’t.Sinceitwasthenightbeforethewedding,hechalkedthefactthatIstayedinmyroomfordinneruptonerves.HedidinsistthatMs.SterlingbringmemydinnerupstairsandmadesurethatIateit.
Therewerewafflesdrowninginmaplesyrupandpeanutbutterstraightfromthedinerdowntheroad.Heobviouslydidnotcareforaswooningbridetomorrowmorning.
Ididn’tsleepawink.
Atfiveinthemorning,Ms.Sterlingwalkedintomyroom,bristlingandsingingwithaherdofstylistsatherheels.Clara,Mama,andAndreaalsocamealong,whiskingmeoffthebedlikeCinderellawakingupwiththehelpoftinyfurrycreaturesandcanaries.Idecidedtopushasidethefactthatmyfatherwasabastardandmyfiancéwasaheartlessman,determinedtoenjoytheday.AsfarasIcouldtell,Ionlyhadoneweddingtocelebrateinthislifetime.Mightaswellmakethebestoutofit.
Iworearose-goldVeraWangweddingdresswithflorallaceappliquésandapleatedtulleskirt.Myhairfloweddowninlusciouswavesallthewaytothesmallofmyback,completewithaSwarovskitiara.Mybouquetwassimpleandcontainedonlywhiteroses.WhenIarrivedattheLittleItalychurchwhereweweretogetmarried—honoringmyfamily’stradition—theplacewasalreadyswarmingwithmediavansanddozensoflocaljournalists.Myheartaccelerated.Ididn’teventalktomyhusbandthenightbeforeourwedding.Didn’thavethechancetoconfronthimaboutthehorridthingsheonceagainsaidaboutmetomyfather.Accordingtohim,hewasgoingtotossmeawaywhenIgotold.Therealityofmysituationsankinatthatmoment.
Wehadn’tgoneononedate(thedinerwasanapology,notadate,andtheentiretimeIshoveledfoodintomymouth,heworkedonhisphone).Wehadn’ttextedregularly.Weneversleptineachother’sbed.Wenevertalkedforthesakeoftalking.
NomatterhowItriedtospinit,myrelationshipwithWolfeKeatonwasdoomed.
Iwalkeddowntheaisletofindmyseamlesslydressed,clean-shavenfiancéwaitingformebythepriestwithasolemnlookonhisface.NexttohimstoodPrestonBishopandBryanHatch.ItdidnotescapemethatWolfeKeatonhadnorealfriends.Onlyworkfriendshecouldbenefitfrom.I
didn’thaveanyrealfriends,either.ClaraandMs.Sterlingweretriplemyage.Andrea,mycousin,wastwenty-four,butshewasmostlythereformeoutofpity.SheworkedinasalonanddatedMadeMenregularly,thoughshealwayssaidshewouldn’tletthemtouchher,notevenakiss.Mymotherwastwicemyage.ThisleftbothWolfeandmeinvulnerablepositions.Wewerebothlonelyandguarded.Woundedanddistrusting.
Theceremonywentoffwithoutahitch,andoncewewerepronouncedhusbandandwife,Wolfeofferedmeachastepeckonthelips.Hewasmoreconcernedaboutthecamerasflashinginfrontofus,andmakingsurewelookedniceandproper,thanourfirstkissasamarriedcouple.Westillhadn’tspokenonewordtoeachothertheentireday,anditwasnearlynoon.
Wedroveinsilencefromthechurchtomyparents’house.Iwasn’tsurethiswouldnotescalateintoafighthadIconfrontedhimaboutwhatI’dheardyesterday,andIdidn’twanttokillthealready-chargedmood.Aftertheengagementincident,Wolfehadsentoutalistofdemandswhichweretobemetifmyfatherhadwantedustosetfootinhishouse.Sureenough,thehousewasfilledwithpeoplewhowerepre-approvedbymyhusband.Unsurprisingly,Angelowasnotthere,buthisparentsarrived,congratulatedmecurtly,droppedofftheirgifts,andshotstraightforthedoor.Peopleweretalking,laughing,andcongratulatingusbeforethegranddinnerwhenIturnedtomyhusbandandspokethefirstwordssincewetiedtheknotandmadeitofficial.
“HaveyoudonesomethingtoAngelo?”
Therewassignificanceinthisexchange.Ourfirstconversationwasaboutanotherman.AnothermanI’dlustedafternottoolongago.Hecontinuedshakinghands,noddingandsmilingbrightly,thepublicfigurethathewas.
“ItoldyouIwillnotbesotoleranttowardAngeloshouldathirdincidentoccur.ThoughIprofoundlyapologizeforjumpingtoconclusionsaboutwhatyou
didwithhim,there’snodenyingthathe
triedtocrossthelineandcoaxanengagedwoman.”
“Whatdidyoudo?”
Hegrinned,turningtolookatmefullynowfromtheguestsfightingforhisattention.
“He’scurrentlyunderinvestigationforhisinvolvementinhisfather’sbusiness.Noneedtoworry,darling.I’msurehe’sfoundagoodlawyerbynow.MaybeKristenhiredthesameone.Ijustgotherfiredfromherjobforcrossingapproximatelyfive-hundredredlinesandlosingallhercredibility.”
“YousnitchedonafamilyfromTheOutfit?”Iballedmyfists,barelycontainingmyrage.HeblinkedatmeasthoughhehadnoideawhoIwasorwhyIwastalkingtohim.
“Igavethemwhattheydeservedtomakesuretheynevergetnearwhat’smineagain.”
Me.
Iwashis.
“Whatwillhappentohim?”Isuckedinabreath.
Heshrugged.“They’llprobablyscarehimtodeathandlethimgo.AsforKristen,hercareerisofficiallyover.Notthatyoushouldcare.”
“Youaredespicable.”
“Youaredelicious
,”hewhisperedunderhisbreath,dismissingmyrage,ifnotenjoyingitalittle.Ms.Sterlingwassomewhereinthecrowd,probablytakingpictures,andIwishedshewasheretorefereethesituationandexplainhisbehaviornow.“Andofficiallynowmywife.Youdoknowweneedtosoiloursheetswithblood,right?”
Ishudderedathiswords.IwascountingonWolfetoneveragreetoparticipateinthistradition,beingasenatorandall.ButIforgothowmuchjoyhe’dhadtorturingmyfather—andwhatwasmoreawfulthanproofhe’dsleptwithhisdaughter?
“IthinkI’malloutofbloodafterthelasttime.”IsmiledagainsttherimofmywineglassinwhichIdrankorangejuice.Hedidn’thavetoknowthatitwasspikedwithenoughvodkatodrownapoodle.Thankyou,Clara
“It’snotinyournaturetopledgedefeat,mydarlingwife.Iassureyou,wecanproducebloodifwetryhard.”
“Iwantadivorce,”Igroaned,notreallytakinghimseriously,butnotcompletelyjoking,either.
Hechuckled.“I’mafraidyou’restuckwithmetillmylastbreath.”
Oruntilyoureplacemewithanewermodel.
“Thenlet’sbothhopeitwilloccursoon.”
Twohoursintothecelebration,WolfeandIfinallypartedways.Iwenttothebathroom,takingmytimewiththevoluminoustulleasIattemptedtopee.Imanagedit,thoughittookmeagoodfifteenminutestocompletethetaskunscathed.Iwashedmyhands,openedthedoorandpaddedoutside,backtowardtheparty,whenIheardsomethingcrashingintheroomnextdoor.Istoppedinmytracks,turningmyheadtowardoneoftheguestroomsonthegroundfloor.Scowling,Imademywaytothesourceofthenoise.Ifsomeonewasdrunkandvandalizingmyparents’house,Isurewasgoingtogivethemapieceofmymind.Istoppedinfrontoftheopendooroftheroom,myeyeswideningindisbeliefasthesceneinfrontofmetrickledintomyconscience.
Mymotherwaslyingonthebed,myfatherstandingaboveher,roaringather,flecksofhissalivarainingdownonherface.Underneaththemwasashatteredglassofbrandy.Hestompedonit,thickglassflyingunderhisOxfordsacrossthecarpet.
“Whatkindofexampleareyousettingforher?Gettingherreadyforherbigdaywhensheneglected
herfatherandtalkedbacktomeyesterday?Infrontofthatdevil!Shemademelooklikeafool,andyou?Youmakemelooklikeanidiotformarryingyou.”
Shespatonhisface.“Cheater.”
Heraisedhisarm,thebackofhishandreadytosmackheracrosstheface.Ididn’tthink.IjumpedtoMama’sdefense,yelling“No!”asIcamebetweenthem.Ihadintendedtopushmyfatheraway,butIwasn’tquickorstrongenough.Heendedupslappingmeacrosstheface,hard.Istaggereddown,fallingnexttomymother,elbowingherribintheprocess.Mycheekburned,andmyeyesstung.Thepainspreadfrommynecktomyeye,andIfeltlikemyentirefacewasinflames.Iblinkedandswayed,rightingmyselfandleaningagainstthemattress,shakingmyhead.God,ithurt.Howmanytimeshadhehither?BeforeandafterhehandedmetoWolfe?Beforeoraftershefoundoutthathewascheatingandconfrontedhim?
“Greattiming,Francesca.”Hechuckledbitterly,kickingashardofglassmyway.“Justintimetoseeallthemessyou’vecreated.”
Mymotherburstintotearsonthebed,coveringherfaceinherhandswithshame.
Shedidn’twanttodealwiththemessysituation,soshedisappearedinsideherself,tuckedunderthelayersofhersorrowandhergrief.Afteryearsofplayingthedutiful,perfectwife,shefinallycrumpled.IhadtofaceArthurmyself.BravewhateverhebecameasaresultofWolfe’sblackmail.
Ilookedup,mybackrod-straight.
“Howmanytimeshaveyouhither?”Ifeltmynostrilsflaring,mymouththinningwithdisgust.
“Notenoughtoteachhertobehaveproperly.”Heflashedmeasickeningsmirk,swayinglightlyinplace.Hewasdrunk.Hammered,morelike.Ipickedupalargeshardofglassforprotection,takingastepbackandraisingitbetweenustouseasaweapon.IknewforafactthatoneofthethingsWolfehadinsistedonbeforewe’dagreedtocelebrateourmarriageherewasabsolutelynoweapons.Therewasevenametaldetectoratthefrontgate.Evenifmyfatherhidagunsomewherearoundhere,itwasn’tonhim.
“Isthattrue,Mama?”Ispoketoherbutkeptstaringathim.Shesniffedaweakdenialfromthebed.
“Leaveit,VitaMia.Heisjustupsetaboutthewedding,isall.”
“Icouldn’tcarelessifhesoldherontheblackmarketaftertheutterdisrespectsheexhibitedtomesincehetookherin.TheonlythingIcareaboutissavingfaceandmakingsurethetwoofthemdon’tdoanythingembarrassing.”Myfatherrolleduphissleevesasthoughhewasreadytodisarmme.
Iknewhespokethetruth.
Ipointedtheshardathim.“LetMamago.Let’ssettlethisalone.”
“There’snothingtosettle,andyouarenotmypeer.Iwillnotdiscussmymatterswithyou.”
“Youwillnotraiseyourhandtomymother,”Isaid,myvoicebarelyshaking.Iwantedtoaddarequestforhimtotrynottokillmylawfulhusband,too,butlet’sadmitit—itwasn’tmyjobtotakecareofWolfe.Hemadeitperfectlyclearthathecouldn’tcarelessaboutme.
“Or…what?You’llgorunningtoyourhusband?I’veeatenbigger,morepowerfulmenthanhimforbreakfast,sodon’tthinkyoucantalkbacktomenow.Haveyougivenhimthegoods,Francesca?Beforemarriage?”Papatookanothermenacingstepinmydirection.Ishrankintomyselfbutdidn’tcower,wavingtheglassinhisfaceinwarning.
“DidyousuckWolfeKeaton’scockjustasalltheotherstupidgirlsinChicagowhoweredumbenoughtothinktheyweredifferentdid?Itwouldn’tsurprisemeintheleast.Youwerealwaystoosillyforyourowngood.Pretty,butsilly.”
“Papa!”Iyelled,swallowingbackalumpoftears.Howcouldhesaythingsthat?AndhowcomeitstillhurtwhenhesaidthosethingseventhoughIknewhedidnotdeservemyloveorregard?
“You’redrunk.”Iwasn’tsureifIpointeditouttomyselfortohim.Mycheekwasstillonfire.Iwantedtoerasethelastfifteenminutesfrommymindpermanently.“Andpathetic.”
“Iamfedupandonthevergeofruiningyourlives,”hecountered.
“Mama,come,”Iurgedher.
“IthinkI’llstayhereandtakeanap.”Shecurleduphigheronthebedintoafetalposition,stillinherpearlsanddeepgreensilkdress.
Anap.Right.Mymotherwasstillinsistentonnotdefyingherhusbandevenaftereverythinghe’ddone.Ishookmyhead,turnedaround,andlefttheroom,squeezingtheglasssohardinsidemyhand,Ifeltthetrickleofbloodrunningovermydress.Istoppedinthebathroomagain,cleaningmyselfupandmakingsuretherewerenovisiblestainsonmydress,thenreturnedtotheparty,knowingthatthecombinationofmyparentsandmyselfbothgoingMIAatthesametimewasarecipeforgossipdisaster.Istumbledintoguests,disorientedandwoozy,andignoredtheworriedglancesandspearinggazes.IfoundMs.Sterlingatthebar,tryingappetizers.Ithrewmyselfbetweenherarms,ignoringthesmallplatteroffoodshewasholding.Itdropped,crabcakesanddeviled-eggrollsspillingonthefloor.
“Canwegoupstairs?”Iheaved.“Ineedhelpreapplyingmymakeup.”
Sheopenedhermouthwhenafirmhandgrabbedmyshoulderandturnedmearound.Icamefacetofacewithmynewhusband,whostaredmedownthroughdarklashesandfurrowedbrows.
I’dneverseenhimsoangryinmyentirelife.
“Whathappenedtoyourface?”hedemanded.Iimmediatelybroughtmyhandtomycheek,rubbingitandlaughingofftheembarrassment.Luckily,histonewascontrolledenoughthatwedidn’thaveanaudience.
“Nothing.Justanaccident.”
“Francesca…”Hisvoicesoftened,andhetookmebythehand—notmyelbow,whichwasanimprovement—andpulledmeunderanalcovebetweenthesunroomandthedrawingroom.Ilookeddownatmyhugedress,determinednottocry.IwonderedwhenIwouldsurviveanentiretwenty-fourhourswithoutbawling.
“Didhehityou?”heaskedquietly,bendinghiskneestogetonmylevel.Hestaredrightintomyeyes,lookingforthatsomethingotherthanthepatternofmyfather’shandonmycheektogivehimtheokaytodowhathewantedtodo.
“Hedidn’tmeanto.Hewantedtoslapmymother.Istoppeditandgotinhisway.”
“Jesus.”Heshookhishead.
Ilookedsideways,blinking.“Whydoesitmatter,Wolfe?You’renotmuchbetterthanhim.True,youdon’thitme,butyousaymeanthingsaboutmeallthetime.Iheardyoutellinghimthatyou’rewithmejustsowecanf…havesex,andthatyouplantodiscardmetheminuteIwon’tlooksogoodonyourarm.”
Frommyperiphery,Isawhimstraighteninguptohisfullheight,hisjawclenchinginannoyance.
“Youweren’tsupposedtohearthat.”
“Youweren’tsupposedtosayit.Yousayalotofhurtfulthingsaboutmetohim.”
“Iwasbaitinghim.”
“Goodjob.Hegotsopissed,hetriedtohitmymom.Thisispartlyyourdoing.Myfatherisamadman,andanyoneaffiliatedwithhimisapotentialvictim.”
“I’dneverlethimlayahandonyou.”
“Never,oruntilI’mnotprettyenoughtobeMrs.Keaton?”
“Never,”heenunciated.“AndI’dadviseyoucutthebullshit.YouwillbeMrs.Keatonuntilthedayyoudie.”
“It’snotthepoint!”Ishouted,turningaroundandgrabbingaglassofchampagneforliquidcourage,downingitinonego.Hesparedmethelecture.Ilookedaround.Thecrowdwasthinning.I’dlosttrackoftimesincetheincidentwithmyparents.
“Whattimeisit?”
“Timeforeveryonetoleavesowecansortoutthismess,”Wolfereplied.
“Andinpractice?”Ihuffed.Hetwistedhiswristandpushedthesleeveofhisblazerup,checkinghisCartier.
“Eleveno’clock.Youknowtheywon’tleaveuntiltheyescortustothebedroom.”
Isighed.Thatwasthetradition.Heofferedmehisarm,andItookit.NotbecauseIparticularlywantedtospendthenightwithhim,butbecauseIwantedeverythingtobeover.
Fiveminuteslater,SenatorKeatonannouncedthatwewereretiringtoourbedroom.Peoplewhistled,clapped,andcuppedtheirmouthswithdelightedchuckles.Hehelpedmeupthestairstomyoldbedroom,whichmyparentshadpreparedformyweddingnight.Peoplefollowed,throwingcandyandsingingdrunkenly,theirvoiceshighpitchedandslurred
AnactImust’veboughtasachild.
Thesummervacations,thebeautifulChristmases,theirpublicdisplaysofaffectionduringsocialfunctions.
Lies,lies,andmorelies.
Wolfeclosedthedoorbehindus,lockingittwiceforgoodmeasure.Webothlookedaroundtheroom.Therewaspristinewhitelinenovertheking-sizebedthat’dbeenputhere,replacingmytwinbedespeciallyfortheoccasion.Iwantedtothrowup.Notonlybecausewedidn’thaveanythingtoshowthem—Iwasnotgoingtobleedonmyweddingnight—butalsobecausetheideathateveryoneknewweweregoingtohavesextonightwasunsettling.Itookaseatontheedgeofthebed,myhandstuckedundermybutt,staringdownatmydress.
“Dowehaveto?”Iwhispered.
“Wedon’thavetodoanything.”Heunscrewedabottleofwaterandtookasip,sittingnexttome.Hehandedmethebottle.Iputittomymouth.
“Good.BecauseI’mstillonmyperiod.IstarteditadayafterItookthePlanB.”Ididn’tknowwhyIwastellinghimthis.OnlyIdid.AnditwastimeIaskedit.
“Whydidyoumakemetakeit?”
“Areyoureadyforchildren?”
“No,butyoudidn’tknowthat.And,frankly,manywouldhaveguessedthebabywasconceivedafterthewedding.Whydidyoucaresomuch?”
“Idon’twantchildren,Francesca.”Hesighed,rubbinghisface.“AndImean…ever.”
“What?”Iwhispered.I’dbeentoldthatbig,strongfamilieswerewhatdreamsweremadeofandalwayswantedoneformyself.Hestoodupandturnedmearoundsomybackwastohimandbeganunzippingmydress.
“Ididn’thavethebestchildhood.Mybirthparentswereshitty.Mybrotherpracticallyraisedme,buthediedwhenIwasthirteen.MyadoptiveparentsdiedwhenIwasatHarvard.Relationships,asIviewthem,aremessyandredundant.Itrymybesttoavoidthemunlesstheyareprofessional,inwhichcase,Idonothavemuchchoice.Kids,bydefinition,arethemessiest,andthereforethelowestonmywishlist.However,Idounderstandyourneedtoreproduce,andIwillnotstopyouifyouwishtohavechildren.Youwilljusthavetotakeintoconsiderationtwothings.One—theywillnotbemine.Youcangetpregnantthroughaspermdonor.Andtwo—Iwillnotplayaroleintheirlives.Ifyouchoosetohavekids,Iwillmakesuretoprovideforyouandthem,andhouseyousomewhereniceandsafe.Butifyouchoosetobewithme—really
bewithme—wewillneverhavechildren,Francesca.”
Ibitdownonmylowerlip.Ididn’tknowhowmanyheartbreaksIcouldendureinoneday,letaloneonemonth
.Istillhadn’topenedthewoodenboxandtookoutthelastnote,andIknewexactlywhy.Everynotesofarindicatedthathewasthemanforme.Buthisactionsprovedhewasn’t.Thetruthwas,Ididn’twanttoknowwhetherhewastheloveofmylifeornot,simplybecausemyheartwasundecided,too.
WhenIsaidnothingforawhile,hewalkedovertomygirlypinkcloset,returningwithanightgownandarobe.Hegavethemtome,andIrealizedinmydrunkenhazethatwhileIwasdeepinsidemyhead,ponderingourrelationship,hehadundressedmecompletely.Iwasnaked,saveformypanties.
“I’llbebackinfiveminutes.Bedecent.”
IdidasIwastold.Apartofme—asmallpartofme—didn’tcareanymore.Perhapsnothavingkidswastherightthingtodo.Wesuredidn’tloveorrespectoneanotherenoughtoreproduce.Hewasn’tgoingtocometomyOB-GYNappointments.Hewasn’tgoingtocareifitwasaboyoragirl,orpickoutfurnitureforthenursery,orkissmyswollenbellyeverynightlikeI’ddreamedofAngelodoing.
Angelo.
Nostalgiaprickledmyheart.Angelowouldhavegivenmeallthosethingsandmore.Hecamefromahugefamilyandwantedoneofhisown.WetalkedaboutitwhenIwasseventeenwithourlegsdanglingfromthedock.IsaidIwantedfourchildren,andheansweredthattheluckymanI’dmarrywouldhavefunmakingthemwithme.Thenwebothlaughed,andIswattedhisshoulder.God,whydidthenotespointtoWolfe?Angelowasthemanforme.Alwayshadbeen.
Idecided,asIwrappedmysilkyrobearoundmywaist,thatIwouldvisittheclinicfirstthingnextweekandgetonthepill.IwouldadoptWolfe’swayoflife.Atleastforthetimebeing.Study,andhaveacareer.Gooutandworkeveryday,theentireday.
Ormaybewewoulddecidetodivorce,andI’dbefree.FreetomarryAngelo,oranyoneelse.
Isnappedoutofmyreveriewhenthedooropened,andWolfewalkedinwithnoneotherthanmyfather.Iloweredmyselftothebed,sittingonitsedgeasItookinthescene.Arthur’slowerlipshook,andheswayedfromsidetosidewhenhewalked.Wolfeheldhiselbowfirmlyasthoughhewasapunishedchild.
“Sayit,”myhusbandspatout,throwingmyfathertothefloorunderneathme.Hefellonallfours,scramblingupquickly.Isuckedinabreath.I’dneverseenmyfatherlikethis.Vulnerable.Itwashardtodecipherwhatwashappening.
Itwasevenhardertobelievewhatlefthismouth.
“Figliamia,itwasnevermyintentiontohurtyourprettyface.”
Hesoundedsurprisinglygenuine,andwhatwasevenmoresickeningwasthewaymyheartthawedtohisvoiceforthefirstfewseconds.ThenIrememberedwhathedidtoday.Howhe’dactedtheentiremonth.Istoodupandwalkedovertomywindow,givingthemmyback.
“NowletmegoorbyGod…”MyfathersnappedatWolfebehindme.Iheardthemshufflingbehindmybackandsmiledgrimlytomyself.Myfatherstoodnochanceagainstmyhusband.NeitherdidI.
“Beforeyougo,there’sonematterthatneedstobesettled,”WolfesaidasIproducedapackofcigarettesfromadrawer,flickingmyZippoandinhalingdeeply.Icrackedthewindowopen,allowingtheblacknighttoswallowthebluesmoke.
“Savemetheriddles,”Dadbarked.
“Thematterofthebloodiedsheets,”Wolfefinished.
“Ofcourse.”Myfathersnortedbehindmyback.Ididn’thaveitinmetoturnaroundandwatchwhatwaswrittenonhisface.“Ifiguredyoumilkedthecowbeforeyouboughtit.”
Iheardasharpslapandtwistedonmyheel.Myfathertumbledbackward,holdinghischeek,hisbackhittingmycloset.Myeyeswidened,andmymouthwentslack.
“Francescaisnotreadyyet,”Wolfeannouncedinhismetallictenor,hisbrooding,calmmovementsasharpcontrasttowhathejustdid.Hetookonesteptowardhim,erasingallthespacebetweenthem,andyankedhimupbyhisdressshirt.“And,unlikeothers,Iwillnottouchawomanagainstherwillevenifshehasmyringonherfinger.Whichreallyleavesuswithnochoice,doesit,Arthur?”
Myfathernarrowedhiseyesathim,spittingalumpofbloodonWolfe’sloafers.Hewasatoughman,ArthurRossi.I’dseenhiminsomestressfulsituationsbutneverasoutofsortsashewasnow.ItsoothedmetoknowthatIwasn’ttheonlyonehelplessagainstmyhusband,butitalsofrightenedmethathehadthatkindofholdonpeople.
Wolfestrodetoablackduffelbagnearthefootofthebedandunzippedit,producingasmallSwissknife.Heturnedaround.Papastoodtallandprouddespitehisdiresituationandbeingcompletelywastedandindesperateneedtosupporthimself.Heleanedagainstmyoldcloset,hisnostrilsflaring.
“You’redead.Bothofyou.”
“Openyourhand.”Wolfeignoredthethreat,flippingtheknifeopenandproducingasharpedge.
“Areyougoingtocutme?”myfathertaunted,hislipstwistinginrevulsion.
“Unlessmybridewilldomethehonor.”Wolfeturnedhisheadaroundtolookatme.Iblinked,puffingoffmycigarettetobuytime.PerhapsitwastruethatInolongerfeltdespairandangertowardthesetwomen.They’druinedmylife,eachofthem,inhisownuniqueway.AndtheysucceededinsuchawaythatIhadfeltpositivelydamaged.Enoughtoswaymyhipsnonchalantlyonmywaytothem.WhereasmyfatherlookedcontentwithWolfecuttinghimopen,whenhesawmenearinghim,histeethslammedtogetherandhisjawlocked.
“Shewouldn’tdare.”
Iarchedaneyebrow.“Thegirlyougaveawaywouldn’t.Me?Imight.”
Wolfehandedmetheknife,leaningbackonthewallasIstoodinfrontofthemanwhocreatedmeholdingaweaponinmyhand.CouldIdoit?Istaredatmyfather’sopenpalm,outreachedandstaringbackatme.Thesamepalmhe’dusedearlierthiseveningtoslapmeintheface.Thesamepalmthatwasdirectedatmymother.
ButalsothesamepalmthatbraidedmyhairduringbedtimeafterClarawashedit.Thesamehandwhopattedmyownnottoolongagoatthemasquerade,belongingtoamanwhostaredatmeasthoughIwasthebrighteststarinthesky
IheldtheSwissknifewithquiveringfingers.Itnearlyslippedfrombetweenthem.Dammit.
Icouldn’tdoit.Iwantedto,butIcouldn’t.
Ishookmyhead,handingWolfetheSwissknife.
Myfathercluckedhistongueinsatisfaction.
“YouwillalwaysbetheFrancescaIraised.Aspinelesslittlelamb.”
Ignoringhimandthechurninginmystomach,Itookastepback.
Wolfetooktheknifefrommyhand,hisfaceplacid,grabbedmyfather’shand,andsliceditopenvertically,cuttingshallowandwide.Bloodgushedout,andIwinced,lookingaway.Papastoodthere,staringatthebloodpouringfromhisopenpalm,oddlytranquil.Wolfeturnedaroundandpulledthelinenfrommybed,thenthrewitintomyfather’shands.Hisbloodsoiledthesheetsasheclutchedthem.
“Bastardo
,”myfathermouthed.“Youwerebornabastard,andnomatteryourshoesandsuits—youwilldieone,too.”Hestaredatmyhusbandwithsheerhateinhiseyes.
“Youweretheoriginalbastard.”Wolfegrinned.“BeforeyoubecameaMadeMan.”
Whoa.
Myeyesping-pongedbetweenthem,shootingtomyfather.
Insteadofgracingtheaccusationwithananswer,myfatherhadtoldmethathisownparentsdiedinacarcrashwhenhewaseighteen,butI’dneverseenanypicturesofthem.Hepinnedmewithhisnarrow,indigoeyes.
“Vendicareme.”
Avengeme.
“Takethesheetsandgetthehellout.Tomorrowmorning,youmaypresentthemtoyourveryclosefamilymembers.Nofriends.NoMadeMen.Andifthisleakstothemedia,Iwillmakesuretopersonallyputthatknifetoyourneck…andtwisthard,”Wolfesaid,unbuttoningthefirstbuttonsofhisdressshirt
Myfatherturnedhisbackonusandstalkedoutoftheroom,slammingthedoorinhiswake.
ThethudofthedoorbangingstillranginmyearswhenIregisteredmynewreality—marriedtoamanwhodidnotlovemebutenjoyedmybodyfrequently.Betrothedtoamanwhodidnotwanttohavekidsandhatedmyfatherwithpassion.
“I’lltakethecouch,”Wolfesaid,grabbingapillowfromthebedandthrowingitoveronasetteebymywindow.Hewasn’tgoingtoshareabedwithme.Evenonourweddingnight.
Iscurriedintobedandturnedoffthelight.
Neitherofussaidgoodnight.
WebothknewitwasjustanotherlieAWEEKTICKEDBYAND
WolfeandIeasedbackintoourusualnighttimeroutine.
Therewasplentyofkissing,touchinggalore,lickingandmoaningandtauntingeachotherwithourmouthsandfingersalone.Buteverytimehewentthere—reallythere—Irecoiledandaskedhimtoleavetheroom.Healwaysdid.ThepainIenduredmyfirsttimeleftmescarredandscared.Notjustphysically,either.Thewayhehadn’tbelievedservedasareminderthatwedidn’tsharemuchmorethanphysicalattraction.Therewasnotrust.Nolove.
Weweregoingtohavesex,andprobablysoon—butonlyonmyterms.OnlywhenIfeltcomfortable.
Lifecrawledon.Thedayswerebusyandclutteredwiththingstodoandplacestogo,yetnothingofsignificancehappened.
Myhusbandwasgrowingfrustratedwithmyrefusaltosleepwithhim.Ms.Sterlingwasgrowingfrustratedwithhowwesharedlustbutnothingelse,andmyfatherhadstoppedtalkingtomealtogether,thoughmymothercontinuedtocallmeeveryday.
Sevendaysafterthewedding,Iwalkedoutofcollege,headingforSmithy’swaitingcar.WhenIreachedtheblackCadillac,IfoundSmithyleaningagainstthepassengerdoorwithhischeapsuitandblackRay-Bans.Herolledalollipopinhismouthfromsidetoside,offeringmeanod.
“Yourturntodrive.”
“Huh?”
“Bigman’sorder.Hesaidit’scoolsincetherearenohighwaysonthewayhome.”
I’donlyhadtwolessonswithWolfesincehe’dpromisedtoteachme—myhusbanddidn’thavemuchtimeoutsideofhisworklife—butIknewIcoulddoit.WolfesaidIwasanatural,andhewasn’tlooseinthecomplimentsdepartment.Besides,Smithywasright—thewaybacktothehousewasurbanandbusy.Itwasperfectforpractice.
“Allright.”Ibitdownagiddysmile.Smithythrewthekeysintheair,andIcaughtthem.Hepushedoffthecarandsignaledtothecoffeeshopontheothersideofthestreet.
“Nature’scalling.”
“Feelfreetopickup.”
Hecamebackafterfiveminutes,allsmiles.
“Ifyourhusbandeverasks,pleasedon’ttellhimIevenmentionedthatI’mcapableofpeeing.Hejustmightcutoffmydickforremindingyouthatitisthere.”Hesurprisedmewiththebanter,andIshookmyhead,smiling.
“Wolfe’snotlikethat.”
“You’rekidding,right?Wolfecaresabouteverythingyoudoorareexposedto,includingannoyingradiocommercialsandthatstreetyouhatebecausethere’sastraycatlivingthere.”
“Weneedtofinditahome,”Ipointedout,slidingintothedriver’sseatanddraggingitforwardtoadjustittomysmallframe.Ifixedthemirrors,thensighedandturnedonthekeylessignition.Thevehiclepurredtolife.IwrappedmyfingersaroundthewheeljustasSmithyslidintotheseatnexttome.
“Ready?”
“AsI’lleverbe.”
Hegesturedwithhisfreckledhandtowardthehorizon.Hehadamaneofred-orangehairandmatchingeyelashes.
“Takeushome,Frankie.”
Itwasthefirsttimehe’dcalledmeFrankie,andforsomereason,itmademyheartflutter.MymothercalledmeVitaMia,myfatherhadn’tcalledmeanythingatallrecently,andWolfereferredtomeasNemesisorFrancesca.Angeloreferredtomeasgoddess,andImissedit.Imissedhim.
Ihadn’tseenorspokentohiminalifetime.Icontemplatedtextinghimtocheckifhewasfine,butIdidn’twanttoenragemyhusband.Instead,IaskedMamaifhewasdoingokayduringourdailychats.ShesaidthatAngelo’sfather,Mike,waslividandcomplainingtoPapaaboutmyhusband’sunfairbehaviortowardhisson,whichonlyputmorestrainontheiralreadyproblematicrelationshipsincemysuddenmarriage.Thingsdidn’tlooktoogoodforthemenofTheOutfitthesedays.
IslidoutoftheparkingspaceandstartedforWolfe’smansion.Our
mansion,Iguessed.Iroundedthecorner,myheartslowingdownfromthesuddenrushofadrenalineofsittingbehindthewheel,whenSmithygroaned.
“ThatVolvobehindusistailgatingthefuckoutofourass.”HisIrishaccentcameoutwhenhewasupset.ItunsettledmetobeinacarwithanIrishmanfromChicagoeventhoughIknewSmithyhadnoaffiliationwiththeunderworldandhadprobablybeenthoroughlycheckedbeforeheacceptedthejobasSenatorKeaton’sdriver.
IglancedintherearviewmirrorandnoticedtwopeopleIimmediatelyrecognized.TwoMadeMenwhoworkedfortheBandinifamily.Meaty,six-foot-fivetypeofbeastswhowereusuallysenttohandlebusinessthatrequiredlessconversationandmoremuscle.Theonebehindthewheelflashedmearancid,rotten-toothedsmirk.
Shoot.
“Speedup,”Smithyordered.
“Thestreetiscrowded.Wecouldgetsomeonekilled.”Myeyesdancedfrantically,andIgrippedthewheeltighter.Smithyshiftedinhisseat,glancingbackward,nodoubtregrettingthemomenthe’dofferedtoletmedrive.
“They’reabouttobumpintous.No,cancelthat—crashintous.Hard.”
“WhatdoIdo?”
“Takealeft.Now.”
“What?”
“Now
,Francesca.”
Withoutthinking,Itookasharpleft,headingoutofthebusyneighborhoodwe’dbeendrivinginandgallopingwest.Theroadwasclearer,andIcouldgainmorespeed,thoughIwasstillscaredtopushthegaspedalallthewaydown.IunderstoodwhatSmithytriedtodo.Hewashopingtolosethem.Buthedidn’tknowthesemenchasedpeopleforaliving.
“Getonthehighway,”heshouted.
“Smithy!”Iyelpedatthesametimehetookhisphoneoutofhispocketandwipedhisforehead.
“Focus,Francesca.”
“Okay.Okay.”
Itookanothersharpturn,rollingontothehighwayandcheckingmyrearviewmirroreveryfewsecondstoseeifIwascreatingagapbetweenthetwovehicles.Myheartwasburstingwithfear.Myentirebodyprickedwithgoosebumps.Whatweretheydoing?Whyweretheyafterme?Butthereasonwascrystalcleartome.I’dshamedtheirfamilybygettingengagedtoWolfewhenIwassupposedtogetmarriedtoAngelo.Ontopofthis,myhusbandjustputAngeloinjailforanightortwooverhisaffiliationwithTheOutfit(andwithMikeBandini’saccountingfirm,which,Iassumed,wasnowunderinvestigationbytheIRS).
Thesoundofmetalscratchingmetaldeafenedmyears,andtheCadillaclurchedforwardastheyhitusfrombehind.Heatrosefromthedoors,andthescentofburntrubberleakedintomynostrils.
“Footontheaccelerator,sweetheart.Putsomedistancebetweenus,”Smithyscreamed,spitflyingoutofhismouthashescrolledthroughhisphonewithshakyfingers.
“I’mtrying.”Igrippedthewheelharder,hyperventilating.Mychestrattled,andmyhandsshooksobadIfeltthecarzigzaggingbetweenthelanes.Theroadwasrelativelyclear,butcarswerehonkingandslidingtotheshoulderoftheroadasItriedtoloseBandini’ssoldiers.
“Whatisit?”Wolfe’svoiceboomedinsidethecar.SmithyconnectedhimtotheBluetooth.Iletoutasharpexhale.Itwasgoodtohearhisvoice.Eventhoughhewasn’tthere,Iimmediatelyfeltabitmoreincontrol.
“We’rebeingchased,”Smithysaid
“Bywho?”
Myreliefwasimmediatelyreplacedwithdread.Maybehewouldbehappytogetridofme.He’dachievethesamelevelofrevengeovermyfatherwithouthavingtoenduremypresence.
“Idon’tknow,”Smithysaid.
“Bandini’ssoldiers,”Ishoutedoverthecar’snoise.
TherewasapauseasWolfedigestedtheinformation.
“Angelo’sfather?”heasked.
Anothercrashingsoundexplodedintheair,andourvehicleflewthreefeetforwardastheysmashedintousagain.Myheadhitthesteeringwheel.Iletoutabreathlessgroan.
“Francesca,whereareyou?”Wolfe’svoicegrewtighter.Ilookedaround,tryingtofindsigns.
“I-190,”Smithysaid,snatchingmyschoolbagfromunderhisfeetandlookingformyphone.“I’mgoingtocallthepolice.”
“Don’tcallthepolice,”Wolfeshotout.
“What?”SmithyandIyelledinunison.Bandini’sguysweregettingclosetousagain.TheCadillaccoughedandmadeaterriblesound.Thebumperwasscratchingovertheroad,draggingovertheconcrete.ItremindedmeofthenoisevehiclesonthevideogameGrandTheftAuto
madebeforetheyburstintoflames.AngeloandhisbrothersusedtoplaythatgameallthetimeduringoursummersinItaly.
Angeloalwayswon.
“I’mcomingforyou.TaketheLawrenceAvenueexit.”IheardWolfepickinguphiskeys.Ididn’tremembereverseeinghimdrive.Ever.Eitherhewasdriven,orhesatnexttomeasIdrovearoundtheneighborhood.
“I’mnotagooddriver.”Itriedtokeepmyemotionsundercontrol,remindinghimthatheshouldn’tbeassureashewasofmyabilitiestogetusoutofthisinonepiece.Myeyeslookedfortheexithewastalkingabout,myeyeballsrunningmaniacallyintheirsockets.
“You’reanexcellentfuckingdriver,”Wolfesaid,andIheardhimzippingthroughtraffic,breakingapproximatelytwothousandlawsbasedonthehonkingandyellinginthebackground.“Besides,ifsomethinghappenstoyou,IwillblowuptheentireOutfitandputeveryMadeMeninChicagobehindbarstherestoftheirlives,andtheyknowit.”
“Ithinkit’sbecauseImarriedyou,”Imuttered,blinkingawaythetearssoIcouldspotLawrenceAvenuebetter.Smithyshookhisheadinmyperiphery.Itwasn’tthetimeortheplacetodiscussthis.
“It’snotyourfault,”Wolfesaid.“Ithrewhissoninjailforthenight,andhisfirmisunderIRSinvestigation.Hewantstogetbackatmethroughyou.”
“Isitworking?”Myvoiceshook.IheardtheengineofWolfe’sJaguarstrainingagainstthespeed.Hedidn’tanswerme.Anotherbumptoourcar.Iheldbackasob.
“They’rerunningusofftheroad,”Smithyyelled,slappingthedashboard.“CanIdrawaweapon?”
“Don’tyoudare,”Wolfebarked.“IfahaironFrancesca’sheadaccidentallymoves…”
Justashesaidthat,theloudestcrashofallranginmyearsatthesametimethattheairbagshotout,knockingourheadsbackwardagainsttheheadrest.Whitepowderfloatedintheairlikeconfetti.TheCadillacscreechedandrolledtothesideoftheroad,andIfeltsomethinghissingunderneathus.Icouldn’tmove.Icouldn’topenmymouth.Icouldn’tevengroan.Mynosefeltlikeit’dbeenpushedtothebackofmyhead.IwonderedifIbrokeit.Iponderedifnow,thatmyfacewasalljacked,myhusbandwouldfinallyloseinterestinme.
ThatwasthelastthoughtIhadbeforeIpassedout.
“Francesca?Nem?Talktome,”Wolfedemandedinthebackground.Adarkscreenspilledovermyeyesasmyeyelidsgavein.Iwantedtoanswerhimbutcouldn’t.Iheardhimslaphiswheel.“Damnitalltofuckinghell.I’monmyway.”
IdraggedmyeyestoSmithywithwhateverenergyIhadleft.Hisheadbegantobobastheairbagshrankback,andhegroanedinpain.
“She’sfine,”Smithycroaked.“Bleedingfromhermouthandnose.Hereyedoesn’tlooktoogood,either.”
“Fuck!”Wolfeyelled.
Smithyunbuckledhimselfandreachedacross,unbucklingme,too.
“ShouldI…?”SmithystartedatthesametimeWolfebarked,“Yes.Drawyourweapon.Andiftheygetclosetoher,byGod,killthebastardsbeforeIdo.BecauseIwouldbemuchlesshumane.”
Ipassedoutafterthat.Itfeltlikeathickblanketofnightmarescoveredme,suffocatingandscorchinghot.Iwastherebutnotreally.Ididn’tknowhowmuchtimehadpassed.ThefirstthingIrememberedweretheblueandredpolicelightsshimmeringbehindmyclosedeyelids,andSmithyexplainingtothepoliceofficersthatwedidn’tseethem,andthattheytookoffwithoutgettingoutoftheirvehicle.Theirlicenseplatewasmissing,ofcourse,buttheywereprobablyjustpunkkidswhowantedtovandalizeanexpensivenewcar.ThenIfeltWolfe’sarmswrappingaroundmeandcarryingme,bridal-style,toanambulance.Hetuckedmeinagurneyandbarkedwhensomeoneelsetriedtotouchme.
“Sir,”amaleparamedicsnapped,“weneedtoputabraceonherneckandstraphertoabackboardtostabilizeherincaseofspinalinjuries.”
“Fine.Begentle,”hesnapped.WhenIopenedmyeyes,InoticedthatWolfewasn’talone.Achubbymaninafancysuitwithablackmanestoodnexttohim.
Aparamedicshinedapenlightintomyeyes,pattingmybodyandlookingforanyvisibleinjuries.Myforeheadwasbruised,andmyentirefacefeltswollenandsore.
“IfshelandsintheER,we’llneedtoissueastatement,”theguynexttoWolfewastextingonhisphone,stillstaringatit.“It’sgoingtolookbad.”
“Idon’tcarewhatitlookslike,”myhusbandretorted.
“Whenanairbaggoesoff,youhavetogotothehospital.Ifyoudon’t,youhavetosignanAgainstMedicalAdviceform.Iwouldstronglysuggestwejusttakeherandgetherchecked.”Iheardasoftfemaleparamedic’svoiceandblinkedmyeyesopen.Shewasanattractivewomaninherlatetwenties,andIwondered,briefly,ifmyLothariohusbandwasgoingtoputhisschmuckinher,too.Suddenly,Idespisedher,toapointIwantedtotellherIwasfeelingfine,justaslongassheleftusalone.
“Darling?”Wolfeprobed,hisfingersskimmingmyfacegently.Toogentlyformetoevenbelievetheywereactuallyhis.“We’regoingtotakeyoutothehospital.”
“Nohospital,”Igroanedintothepalmofhishand.“Just…home.Please.”
“Francesca…”
“It’sfine.Theairbagswentoffbutdidn’ttouchus,”Smithyinterfered.
“She’sgoingtothehospital,”Wolfeargued.
“Sir…”themanbesideWolfetriedtoargue.
Iwonderedifhewaslikethatbecausetherewerepeoplearoundus.Becauseheoughttobeniceandgentletomeinpublic.Thethoughtscaredmetodeathbecausesomethingdeepinsidemewantedtoclingtothisnewsideofmyhusbandandneverlethimgo.
“Please.Ijustwantmybed.”MyvoicebrokemidsentenceasItriedhardnottocry.IhadasplitlipIwasprettysurewasgoingtoreopenifIdid.Thegorgeousparamedictappedhisshoulder,andIalmostmusteredthestrengthtobiteherheadoff,butthenheshookoutofhertouchcasually.
“It’sjustshallowbruises,”Icroaked.
“Getaprivatedoctortomyplaceinanhour,”Wolfesnappedhisfingersinthesuitedman’sdirection,thenturnedbacktome.
“Home,”Itoldhim.
“Yes.Home.”Wolfebrushedhairfrommyface.
“ThankGod,”thesuitnexttohimmutteredunderhisbreath,alreadymakingthecall.
“Shutup,Zion.”
“Yes,sir.”
Iwokeupinmybedsomehourslaterafteradoctor’svisitthatstretchedforalmosttwohours.Wolfewassittingonthecouchinfrontofmybed,workingonhislaptop.TheminuteIcrackedaneyeopen,heplacedthelaptoponthecouch,stoodup,andmadehiswaytome.Icurledundermysheets,toosoretobetouched,buthejustsatnexttomeandkepthishandsinhislap.
“HowisSmithy?”Iasked.Heblinkedatmeasthoughthequestionitselfwasridiculous.WasIspeakinginEnglish?PrettysureIwas.Thenasmilehungonhisbeautifulface,likethemoon,andIknew—withagoodportionofmelancholy—thatIwasinlovewiththiscruelbeastofahusband.Thatforanotheroneofthoseglowing,genuinesmiles,Iwouldbutthornswithmyfather,slaydragons,andhandhimmyprideonasilverplatter.Itwasdepressingtoadmit,eventomyself,thatIwasunderhisthumb.
“That’sthefirstthingyouaskafterbeingchasedofftheroadsbymobsters?Howthehelpisdoing?”Hebrushedhisthumbacrossmycheek.
“Heisnotthehelp.Heisadriverandourfriend.”
“Oh,Nemesis.”Heshookhishead,hissmilewideningashepressedagentlekisstomyforehead.ThegesturewassotouchingIwasonthevergeofburstingintoasob.WithoutaskingifI’dlikewater,hebroughttheglassonmynightstandtomycrackedlips,helpingmetakeafewsips.
“Sterlingisworriedlikecrazy.ShewenttothedinerdowntheroadandgotyouenoughwafflestobuildaHanselandGretelcandyhouse.”
“I’mnothungry.”Ishiftedinbed.Somehow,everythinghurtevenmoreafterafewhours.Itwasn’tactuallybruises,buttheimpactoftheadrenalineonmybodyasitworeoff.
“Shocking.”Myhusbandrolledhiseyes.SenatorWolfeKeatonrollinghiseyesexasperatedlywasasightIneverthoughtI’dsee.
“ButIwouldloveacigarette.”Ilickedmylips,tastingthesaltyflavorofmydryblood.HewalkedovertomydeskandtookoutathinVoguecigarettefromitspack,sittingbymysideandslidingitbetweenmylips.HelititformewithmyZippo,likeinanoldblack-and-whitefilm.Ismiledaroundmycigarette.
“Areyougoingtomakeitahabit?”heasked.
“Makewhatahabit?”
“Scaringmetodeath.”
“Dependsonhowmuchyoupissmeoff.Youforgottotellmeyoualmostgotassassinated.Bymyfather,noless.”
“Hesentashitaim,”heresponded,someofthemetalreturningtohisvoice.“Hewasonlyhalfseriousaboutkillingme.Ido,afterall,holdhisdaughterhostage.”
Tothat,Isaidnothing.
Hegotupfrommybed,hislithebodynolongertensed.“I’mgladyou’reokay.”
Hewasgoingtoleave,Irealized.Myeyesglancedatmywristwatch.Itwasthreeinthemorning.HeneededtobeupearlyforhisflighttoSpringfield.ButIcouldn’tbeartheideaofhimleavingmetodayafterheshowedmeaffection.Ididn’twanttoloseit.Didn’twantustogobacktowhatwewereafewhoursago,beforemylifewasontheline.Twostrangerswhoenjoyeddry-humpingeachotherandsharedadinnertableeveryonceinawhile.
Iknew,withoutashadowofadoubt,thathewantedtogobacktothepreviousstate.Andthatifheleft—wewould.
“No,”Icroakedwhenhewasatthedoor.Heturnedaroundslowly,scanningme.Itwasallinhisexpression.ThedreadofknowingwhatIwasabouttoask.Tohim,Iwasanasset.NowthatheknewthatIwasokay,hecouldgoabouthisday.Orrather,night.
“Idon’twanttostayalonetonight.Couldyou…onlyfortonight?”Iblinked,hatingthedesperationinmyvoice.Hepeekedatthedooragain,almostlongingly.
“Ihaveanearlymorning.”
“Mycaptorhasgivenmequitethecomfybed,”Ipattedit,blushingundermybruises.Heshiftedfromfoottofoot.
“IneedtoletSterlingknowthatyou’reokay.”
“Ofcourse.”Itriedtomakemyvoicesoundchirp,blinkingbackthetears.“Yes.She’sprobablysuperworried.ForgetwhatIsaid.Besides,I’mtired.IthinkI’llfallasleepbeforeyouclosethedoor.”
Henodded,leavingthedoorajar.
Iwastootiredtomournmyunfulfilledrequest.Ifellasleepaminuteafterheleftmyroomwiththehalf-smokedcigaretteswimminginsidemywaterglass,ahabitthatmadeWolfecussunderhisbreathashecollectedtheglassesafterme.
WhenIwokeupthenextday,theclockhitseven.Itriedtostirmyselfawake,butfeltmassiveweightpressingagainstmybody.God.HowbadlywasIhurt?Icouldbarelymoveaninch.WhenItriedtowigglemyrightarm,reachingtothealarmclocktoslamthebuttonandstopitschirp,Irealizedthatitwasn’tsorenessthatstoppedmefrommoving.
Myhusbandwassleepingbehindme,hisstomachpressedagainstmyback.Stillinhissuit,hisbreathsweredeepandsilent.Icouldfeelhispenisdiggingintomybuttthroughourclothes.Hehadmorningwood.Ifeltmyselfblushing,bitingdownasmile.
Hereturnedtomyroom.Hespentthenightinmybed.Iaskedforsomething—somethinghehadtoldmeexplicitlywouldneverhappen—andhegaveittome
Iputmyhandoverhisarm,whichcircledmymidriff,hisnoseandmouthpushedalongsidemyshoulderblade.Iprayedforonethingthatmorning—thatthiswasn’tasweetlie,butaforbiddentruth.
Lies,Icouldn’tdealwith.
Butfindingatruthanddiggingthatveinuntilitgushedout?Iwasupforthatchallenge.LONGBEFORE
IREALIZEDTHAT
FrancescaRossiwasinexistence,I’dstudiedherfather’sworkdayclosely.Seekingrevengewasafull-timejob,andthemoreyouknew,themorethoroughlyyoucouldruin.Ilookedforweaknessinhisbusiness,andloopholesinhiscontracts,whenactually,hisdaughterwashismost-valuedpossession.BothmorefatalandmorepersonalthananystripclubIcouldshutdown.TheproblemoccurredwhenIrealizedthatArthurnolongertreasuredhisdaughter.Asfarashecouldtell,shewasnolongerhisally.Andtomakemattersworse,shemarriedamanwhowasdeterminedtokillhisbusiness,notinheritit.
Thegamehadchanged.
ArthurallowedMikeBandinitotargethisdaughter.
Becausehisdaughterwasalsomywife.
Andmywife,Ifoolishlyprovedtohim,wasimportanttome.
MyJaguarstoppedinfrontofMama’sPizzarestaurantinLittleItaly.Itwasaquaintplacethatsmelledoffreshlybakedsourdoughandtomatosoupandmygoddamnsorrow
.Thebusinesslostmountainsofmoneyeverymonthbutmadeforagreatmoney-launderingvenue.ItwaswhereTheOutfithadtheirdailymeetings.WhateverdarkfeelingsIharboredtowardMama’sPizzaweren’tenoughtokeepmefrommakingmypointtothoseidiots.
Smithygotoutofthevehicleandopenedthebackdoorforme.Iwaltzedintotherestaurant,ignoringtheplump,disorientedladybehindthecounter,andwentthroughthedoorbehindher.Steppingintothedimroom,Ifoundtenmensittingaroundaroundtable.ItwastheoldcheckedwhiteandredItalianBS,completewithayellow,half-burned,unlitcandle.Behinditsatmyfather-in-law.
Roundtablesbrokehierarchy.
LasttimeI’dbeentoMama’sPizza—thetablewassquare,andArthurRossiwasattheheadofit.
Andbehindhimhungaglassedwindowcoveringshotguns.Picture-effin-esque
Isaunteredtowardhim,theannoyingwomanbehindmeyellingandapologizinginonebreath,andflippedthetablewithallitscontents—beer,wine,water,orangejuice,andbreadsticks—overthelapsofthemeninfrontofit.Theysatthere,mouthsslacked,watchingmethroughacurtainofshockandanger.IwasstandinginfrontofRossi,hisdresspantssoiledwiththewinehe’dbeendrinking.NexttohimsatMikeBandini,Angelo’sfather,whoslowlybegantorisefromhischair,nodoubtabouttoeitherrunorpointagunatme.Igraspedhisshoulder,diggingmyfingersinuntilImethisbonesthroughhisskin,thenpushedhimbackintohischair,andkickeditacrosstheroom.Thechair’swoodenlegsskatedafootbackfromtheforce.IglimpsedatArthur,pleasedtoseethathispalmwasstillwrappedupfromthenighthestainedthewhitesheetswithhisownblood.
“How’syourfacetoday,Bandini?”Ismiledgood-naturedlyatAngelo’sfather.Hesuckedhisteethin,smirkingatme.
“Inonepiece.”Hiseyeslookedleftandright,tryingtoassesseveryoneelse’sreactiontomysurprisevisit.Theywerepaleasghostsandcrappingtheirpants.Iwasn’tthepolice.Them—theycoulddealwith.IwasthemanwhohadthepowertogetWhitefired,andworse—plantBishopandRossiinsuchdeepshitthey’dneverclimboutofit.Butgettingridofmedidn’twork,either.Andnow,itwasoutofthequestion.Ihadmydriverandtwosecuritymenparkedupfront.
“That’sgoodtohearbecausemywife’sfaceisn’t.Infact,hernoseisstillbleeding.”Ithrewafisttohisnosewithoutwarning,makingallthemenaroundusstandinunison,onlytohaveArthurmotionforthemtositdownwithhishand,hislipsthinningintoafineline.Mike’sheadrearedback,hischairflyingbackwardandfallingtotheground,himinsideit.Itooktwostepsandswallowedthedistancebetweenus.
“Herribsaresore,too,”Iadded,kickingMikeintheribs.Everyonearoundussuckedtheirteethin,furiouswiththevulnerabilityoftheirsituation.Itookahandkerchiefoutofmybreastpocketandwipedmyhands,sighingtheatrically.“Lastbutnotleast,herlipsaresore.I’mgoingtoletyouchoose—fistorfoot?”Iglanceddownathim,cockingmyhead.Wakingupinmywife’sbedwasanunpleasantsurprise.ButfeelingherassdiggingintomyerectionwithlittlefinesseasshetriedtopleasemewasdefinitelysomethingIcouldgetusedtoafterwhatseemedlikealifetimewithoutactualsex.Iknewshewastoosore,butstillcouldn’tresisttheurgetodry-fuckherunderthesheets.SoIdidjustthat;Iunbuckledmydresspantsandpressedmyshaftagainstherasscheeks.AfterIcameonhernightgown,Ileftherroom,orderingMs.Sterlingtomakesurethatshedrank,ate,anddidn’tdoanyheavylifting.RightbeforeIpickedupthephoneandhadZionhireabodyguardforher.
“Fist.”Mikegrinned,histeethcoveredinblood.Amobster,afterall.
“Footitis,then.Idon’ttakeanyordersfromyou.”IsmashedmyOxford-cladfootrightintohisfaceandheardacrackashisnosesmashedtopieces.Steppingback,Istrolledaroundtheroom.I,too,hadbetterthingstodowithmydaythanspenditwithmenwhoruinedmyhardworkforaliving.
“I’mfeelingcharitabletoday.Maybeit’stheblissofbeinganewlywed.I’vealwaysbeenahopelessromantic.”IscannedArthur’stwistedfaceandthesoldiersaroundhim,whosatwiththekindofelectricdefiancethatrolledofftheirred-bloodedbodies.Fistsballed,chinshigh,feettappingoverthefloor.TheyweredyingtobeatthehelloutofmebutknewIwasdepressinglyuntouchable.
Iwasn’talwayslikethis,though.AndArthurRossiwasthesolereasonformyweaknesses.
“SoI’mgoingtosparethebastards’liveswhodidthistoFrancesca.ButIthoughtagentlereminder—andtrustme,thisismyideaofgentle—wasmorethannecessary.Ihavethepowerandthemeanstoshutyoudowncompletelyandkilleverypartofyourbusiness.Icouldmakesureallyourrecyclingandsanitationprojectsareterminated.Ihavethepowertopurchaseallthecompetingrestaurantsandbarstoyours,throwmoneyatthem,andwatchastheyputyoursoutofbusiness.Icouldmakesureyourfamiliesdon’thaveabreadcrumbtoeatfordinner,andthatyourmedicalbillsareunpaid.IcouldsendtheFBItoyourundergroundgamblingjointsandwhorehouses.Icouldreopencasesthathavebeendormantforyearsandhireenoughinvestigatorstopopulateyourstreets”—Itookadeepbreath—“andIcouldbleedyoudryofeverydimeyouown.ButI’mnotdoingthat.Notyet,atleast,sodon’tgivemeareason.”
Arthurfrowned.Upuntilnow,hestayedsilent.“AreyouimplyingthatIharmedmydaughter,youslimylittleshit?”
“Bandini’smuscledid.”Ipointedathisfriend,whowasstandingupfromthefloorandwipinghisfaceofblood.ArthurturnedtoBandinisharply.Oh,brother.Hedidn’tevenknow.Hisempirewasfallingapart.Hispowerdiminishingbytheminute.Itwasn’tnecessarilyagoodthingforme.Aweakkingisamadone.
“Isthattrue?”Arthurspatout.
“Heputmysoninjailthedayoftheirwedding.”Mikespatbloodintoatrashcan.IwalkedovertoMike,ballinghiscollarinmyfistandtuggingitsohelookedupatme.
“Getanywherenearmywifeagain,andIshallconsideritanactofwar.AwarIammorethanequippedtofinish,andinrecordtime,”Iwarned.“Understood?”
Heavertedhisgazefromme,unwillingtoseethedeterminationinmyeyes.“Fine,stronzo,
fine!”
“Samegoesforyourson.Icatchhimnearher,andhe’llbesorryyourwifewasdrunkenoughtopermithisconception.”
“Angelocandowhateverhewants,”hegobbed,wavinghisfistintheair.“Leavehimoutofthis.”
“We’llseeaboutthat.Rossi,”Isaid,turningfromMike.Arthurwasalreadystandingup,refusingtogodownwithoutafight.I’ddreamedofthismomentformanyyears.Holdingsuchpoweroverhishead.Andnow,whenIfinallyhadit,Ifeltnothingbutdisdainandwariness.Comingherewasanuncalculatedrisk.Thesemenhadnomoralcompass,andifFrancescaendedupsixfeetunder,I’dneverbeabletoforgivemyself.Iwastheonewhogotherintothismessinthefirstplace.
“Putyoursoldiersandassociatesonashorterleash,”Iordered,pointingathisface.
“Youmean,likeyourwifedoestoyou?”Hepattedhispocketandproducedacigar,stickingitbetweenhislips.“Sheseemstohavetakenoveryourbetterjudgment.You’dhavenevershowedupheremonthsago,andyouwantedmyheadevenbackthen,”Arthursaid.
“Ihaveyourhead.”
“You’replayingwithyourfood,SenatorKeaton,insteadofgoinginforthekill.You’reenamoredbyateenager,andthatwasn’tinyourplan.”
“Givemeyourword,”Irepeated,feelingatickofannoyanceflickeringbehindmyeyelid.
Arthurwavedhishand.“Iwillnothurtmyowndaughterandwillmakesurenooneinthisroomdoeseither.Sheis,afterall,myfleshandblood.”
“Don’tfuckingremindme.”
Onthewayhome,IputBishopandWhiteonaconferencecall.Iknewtwothings:theyweren’tgoingtoturntheconferencecalldown,awarethatIhadtoomuchammoonthem,andthattheydidn’twantmetoleakanythingoverthephone—forexactlythesamereason.TheproblemwasthatIwassickandtiredofcorruptassholesgettingtheirway.Especiallywheninnocentpeoplewerebeinghurtintheprocess.
Especiallywhenoneofthosepeoplewasthewomanwhohadmyringonherfinger.
“Iheardthatyoupaidquiteavisittoourfriend.”Bishopwasgolfingbythesoundsofcartsandsunshinelaughterontheotherline.Whiteremainedsilent.
“Howareyoudoing,Preston?”Iasked,gettingcomfortableinthebackseatasSmithyzigzaggedthroughthebusyChicagotraffic.IdidnotacknowledgePreston’sremarkaboutmyvisittoArthurbecause,asfarasIwasconcerned,I’dneverbeenthere.ItookoneofFrancesca’sZipposoutofmypocket,flickingitonandoffabsentmindedly.Something—hellifIknowwhy—possessedmetotakeitwithmewhenIleftherroomthismorning.
“I’mfine.Isthereaparticularreasonwhyyou’reasking?”Prestongratedintothephonewithaudibleannoyance.Whitetookalaboredbreath,waitingformyanswer.Itsuckedwhentheonlypersonholdingthecardsintheconversationwasagreenpoliticianwithavindictivestreak.
“Justwantedtocheckonhowyou’regearingupfortheelectionsnextyear.”Istaredthroughthewindow.ItwasnicertositinthecarwithNemesisaround.Notbecausewesharedpleasantconversation—thatwasrarelythecase—butbecauseshealwayssmiledatChicagolikeitwasbeautifulandfascinatingandbusyespeciallyforher.Sheappreciatedthesmallthingsinlife.
“I’mfairlysureIamdoingwaybeyondmywildestexpectations.Atleastaccordingtothepolls.”Bishopcluckedhistongue,andIheardhimmountinghisgolfclubstohiscart.NowonderRossididbusinesswithhim.Thehedonistassholedidn’thavethetermworkinhisdictionary.
“Nothingafewbadpressreleasescan’truin,Iassume,”Iquipped,gettingtomypoint.Itwashardlyasocialcall,afterall.
“Whatareyouinsinuating?”Whitebarked,andIcouldpracticallyseethespitflyingoutofhismouth.God,hewasanawful-lookingcreature.Ihatedhimalittleextraforbeingacorruptedcop.Adishonestpolitician,Icouldhandle.Allpoliticianswerecorrupt,butsomeofthemwerestillgood.Beingacorruptedcopmadeyouapieceofshit.Endofstory.WhiterepresentedtheChicagoPoliceDepartment,somethingmylatebrotherwasapartof.I’dhatetothinkhowRomeowouldfeelhadheknownWhitewasthecommanderandchiefofoperationsnowadays.
“I’minsinuatingthatyou’restillnotdoingyourjobtomysatisfaction.Mywifewasinacarchaseyesterday.Bandini’speople.”
“Howisshedoing?”Bishopasked,notevenalittleinterested.
“Savemethepleasantries.Life’stooshorttopretendwegiveadamnabouteachother.”
“A:donotthreatenmycampaignunderanycircumstances,andB:givemedirectinstructionsandI’llpassthemthroughtothesourceyouneedhelpwith,”Bishopoffered.
“Idon’tthinkyougettotalktomeaboutcircumstances,”Isnapped.TheJaguarrolledintothegatesofmymansion.Today,I’ddonesomethingIhadn’tdoneinmyentirecareer,notsinceIgraduatedfromcollege.Itookadayoff.
IwantedtomakesurethatFrancescawasfeelingwellanddidn’tneedtopayavisittothehospital.Smithyopenedthedoorforme.Isteppedout.
“Rightnow,tosoothemygrowingangerwithyourclient
,”Ihighlighted,“I’dkindlydemandthatyoutellhimtokeephisassociatesandhimselffarawayfrommywife.It’sineveryone’sbenefit,yoursincluded.”
“Fine,”Whitebitout.
Bishopstayedsilent.
“You,too,TigerWoods.”
“Iheardyou,”heclipped.“Areyougoingtohangthisoverourheadsforawhilenow,Keaton?Becauseyou’restartingtomakeenemieseverywhere.Firstwithyou-know-whoandhiscrewandnowwithus.Doyouhaveanyfriendsleftatall?”Hewondered.
“Idon’tneedfriends,”Isaid.“Ihavesomethingmuchmorepowerful.Thetruth.”
Ifoundmywifeinhervegetablegarden,suckingonathincigaretteandtendingtoherplants.Sheworealongblueskirtandawhitedressshirt.Therewassomethingstronganddeterminedaboutherchoicetofollowherparents’rules,evenafterthey’ddisownedhercompletely.
WhenIfirstmether,Ithoughtshewasapuppet.Ashiny,prettytoydesignedbyArthurRossithatIcouldbreak.ThemoreIgottoknowher,themoreIrealizedhowwrongIwas.Shewashumble,modest,resilient,innocent,andwell-cultured.Thenightofthemasquerade,Iridiculedherforexcellinginwhatherparentswantedhertobecome,completelydisregardingthefactthatbeingproperandwell-behavedwasmuchmoredauntingthanbeinganotherdefiant,rebellious,twenty-firstcenturykidwhoworeshortskirtsandfuckedeverythingthatmoved.
Imockedherforbeingrottenbeforefindingoutthatshewasacompassionate,good-willedwoman.
Francescawipedthesweatandsoilfromherforehead,turningaroundandwalkingtotheshedtoretrieveabagoffertilizer.Shestoppedandrubbedherforehead,wincing.Thebruisetherewasshallowbutnastyandgreen.Isteppedtowardtheshed,reachingbehindherbackandtakingtheheavybagfromher.
“Whyareyousostubborn?”IaccusedasIcarriedittowardhervegetablegarden.Shefollowedmeinherlittlebootsandlittleeverything,really.Shewassopocket-sized,IoftenrehashedthenightIwasinsideher,relishinghowsweetandtightshe’dfelt.Notbecauseofhervirginity,butsimplybecauseshewashertinyself.
“Whyareyoualwaysso…you?”Shefollowedme,abouncetoherstep.Istoppedinfrontofthevegetables,realizingfortheveryfirsttimehowspectacularshe’dmadethisgarden.Shegrewactualthings.Tomatoesandradishesandpeppermintandbasil.Flowersspilledfromfreshpots,andtherewererowsuponrowsofflowerbedsframingherlittlegarden.Itwasn’tmystyle.Toobusyandcolorful,amishmashoftoomanyspecies,sights,andscents.ButitwastheonethingaboutthisplacethattrulymadeherhappyotherthanMs.Sterling.
“WhoelsewouldIbe?”Ianswered,settingthebagnexttoherplants,carefulnottosquashthem.Istoodupstraightandwipedmyhands.
“Someoneelse,”sheteased.
“Likewho?Angelo?”Onlyanidiotwouldutterhisnamealoudatatimelikethis.ButImadeitperfectlyclearthatIcouldbearealjackasswheremywifewasconcerned.
“Iactuallyquitelikeyoubeingyou,”shesaid,hitchingoneshoulderup.Irubbedthebackofmyneck,feelingabnormallyraw.
“Youneedtoslowdown.”
“Iam.Itookiteasytoday.Didmyhomeworkandonlycameouthereahalfhourago.I’mgettingreadytoharvestthefirstroundofveggiesandsendthemofftotheschooldowntheroad.It’sallorganic.”Sheturnedtofacemeforthefirsttime,andmyheartsqueezedatthesightofherblackeyeandcutlip.Ichuckedherunderthechin.
“That’snotslowingdown.That’sspeedingup.Don’tmakemedosomethingcrazy.”
“Likewhat?”
“Likeabductyou.”
Shechuckled,lookingdownatherlegs,hercheeksflushing.“Youtreatmelikeakid.”
“Please.IfIdidtokidswhatIwanttodotoyou,I’dspendtherestofmylifeinasecludedcellar,andfordamngoodreason.”
Shecroucheddown,fingeringtheflowerbedsfordeadleavesshecollected,thenthrewaway.Istuffedmyfistsintothepocketsofmydresspants,watchingherback.NemesishadDimplesofVenusonherlowerback,andtheneedtosinkmythumbsintothemasIateheroutfrombehindsmashedintome.Iclearedmythroat.
“Packabagandsomesnacks.We’releaving.”
“Huh?”Shestillgardened,notevenbotheringtolookup.
“We’regoingtomycabinonLakeMichigantomorrowfortheweekend.Gettingsomerestisclearlynotonyouragenda,soI’mmakingit.”
Shetwistedherheadtowatchme,squintingatthesunandusingoneofherhandsasavisorfromit.“It’snotrouble.I’mnothurt,Wolfe.”
“Youlooklikeyou’vebeenbeatenup,andpeopleareespeciallygoodatspeculating.Ineedtogetyououtoftown.”Itwasonlypartlytrue.Havingmynewwifeparadeherbanged-upfaceinpublicwaslessthanideal,sure.ButIdidn’twantanycompanyotherthanher,either.Sterlingwasalwayssniffingaroundus,andSmithywasageneralpainintheass.Inaddition,Bishopwasn’twrong.Ididnot,infact,haveanyfriends.Distancingmyselffrommyenemiesforacoupledayswasn’ttheworstideaI’dhad.Ineededabreather,and,quitefrankly,NemwastheonlypersonIcouldsomehowtoleraterightnow
“Ihavealotofhomework,”shesaid.
“Takeitwithyou.”
“I’dhatetoleaveMs.Sterlingalone.”
“She’llhavesecuritystaywithher.We’releavingalone.”
“That’sagainstprotocol.”
“Fuckprotocol.”
Therewassilence.Shewaschewingherlip,whichmeantshewastryingtocomeupwithanotherobstacle.
“Youcandriveaportionofthewaytothecabin,”Ioffered,sweeteningherdeal.SheperkedjustasIknewshewould.HerexperiencewithBandini’sassholesdidnotdeterherfromlearning.ItwaspartofthereasonwhyIcouldn’thateher.NotevenifItried.Shewasdriven,andthebestpartwasthatshedidn’tevenknowitaboutherself.
“Really?”Hereyesshimmeredwithexcitement.Clearbluelikethesummersky.“Evenafterwhathappened?”
“Especiallyafterwhathappened.Youacedit.How’syourforehead?”
“Itlooksworsethanitfeels.”
Itlooksbeautiful.
Ofcourse,utteringthosewordswasn’tanoption.Iturnedaroundtowardthebalcony,retreatingfromthegardenandmywife.WhenIreachedtheglassdoors,Istopped,stealingonelastglanceatheragain.Shewascrouchingbackdown,resumingherwork.
“Youwon’thavetoworryaboutthemanymore,”Isaid.
“Them?”Sheblinked.Thelistwasgrowingbythesecond.First,herfather,thentheBandinis.
“Everyassholewhoeverhadthefaintestideatohurtyou.”
Iwentintomyofficeandlockedmyselftherefortherestofthenight,nottrustingmyselftogotoherroomformynightlyfeastonherwithoutsleepingnexttoher.Asitwas,Ihadacontrolissue.
Ilackedit.
Shehadallofit.ITTOOKMEANENTIRE
hourtounwindbehindthewheel.
NotonlydidIworryaboutruiningWolfe’spreciousJaguar—theflashbacksfromBandini’sguysslammingintotheCadillacfrombehindastheychasedme—butIalsodidn’tfeeloverlycomfortablearoundmyhusband.Afterspendingthenightwithme,hehadn’tcometomyroomlastnight.Weweregoingtohislakehouse.Washeplanningonsleepingindifferentroomsthere,too?Frankly,Iwouldn’tputitpasthim.IhadnoonetoadvisemeaboutoursituationCosmo
andMarieClaire,
myonlysourcesofrelationshipadvice,didn’texactlycoverthesubjectofanarrangedmarriagewithcruel,severelyemotionallystuntedsenatorsinthetwenty-firstcentury.
Ms.Sterlingwasbiased.She’dtellmeanythingIwantedtoheartoensurethatIwashappywithmyhusband.Mymotherwastoobusytryingtosaveherownmarriage,andClarawastheclosestthingtoagrandmotherI’deverhad,so,yeah,gross.
IcouldcallAndrea,butIfearedbecomingacharitycaseatthispoint.
Alwaysdisoriented.Foreverclueless
ThatleftmetostewinmythoughtsallthewaytothecabinonLakeMichigan.WhenWolfecalleditacabin,Ithoughthemeantsomewherequaintandmodest.Inpractice,itwasaluxuriousestate,craftedfromrockandglass,boastinganoutdoorhottub,adirectviewofthelake,elevated,woodenbalconies,andanarchitecturallymesmerizingrusticcharm.Itwastuckedamongcherrytreesandlush,greenhills,farenoughfromcivilizationwithouthavingthateerieair.Myheartswelledattheprospectsofspendingtimewithmyhusbandsofarawayfromeveryone.Butmixedwiththeexcitementwasadashoffear.
“IfeelanotherstringofNemesisquestionscomingmyway.”Wolfewassittingcross-leggedonthepassengerseat,flippingmyZippobetweenhisstrongfingers.Imunchedonmylowerlip,tappingmythumbsagainstthewheel.
“Haveyoueverbeeninlove?”
“Whatkindofquestionisthat?”
“OneI’dlikeananswerto.”
Hepaused.“No.I’veneverbeeninlove.Haveyou?”
IthoughtaboutAngelo.ThenIthoughtaboutallthethingsI’dgonethroughbecauseofmyloveforAngelo.Ididn’tknowhowIfeltabouthimanymore,butIknewthatlyingtomyhusbandoutoffearwasgoingtoputmesquarelyinthesameplacemymotherwasstrugglingwithrightnow.
“Yes.”
“Hurtslikehell,doesn’tit?”Hesmiledtotheviewoutsidehiswindow.
“Yes,”Iagreed.
“That’swhyIrefrainfromthefeeling,”hesaid.
“Butitalsofeltgoodwhenitwasrequited.”
Heturnedaroundtofaceme.“Noloveisfullyrequited.Noloveisequal.Noloveisfair.Thereisalwaysonesidethatlovesmore.Andyoubetternotbethatside—becauseitsuffers.”
Silencestretcheduntilweparkedthecaroutsideoftheso-calledcabin.
“Butyou”—heturnedtome,smirking—“you’resmarterthantoyieldtoyourlove.”
Idon’tloveAngeloanymore
,youfool
,Iwantedtoscream.Iloveyou.
“WhichiswhyIrespectyou,”headded.
“Yourespectme?”
Hegotout,roundedthecar,andopenedmydoorforme.“Ifyou’reintomilkingthings,I’dloveforittobemycockandnotsimplyforcompliments.YouknowIrespectyou,Nem.”
Thefridgeinthecabinhadbeenstockedwitheverythinggoodandtasty.FreshlybakedFrenchbunssatonthecounter.Iwolfeddowntwo,withlocalstrawberryjamandchunkypeanutbutter.Wolfehoppedintotheshower,andIdidthesameafterhim.Thenhestuffedasix-packofbeerandahandfulofindividuallywrappedbrowniesintomybackpackandorderedmetojoinhimforawalk.Myforeheadwasstillsore,mylipkeptonopeningeverytimeIsmiled,andIfoundoutthatmyribsmust’vebruisedwhenIwasputonthegurney,butIcompliednonetheless.
Ibegantosecond-guessourmutualdecisionnottotakeahoneymoontogetherwhenhethrewmygirlybagoverhisshoulderandledmetoapaved,concretepathsurroundedbywildgrassthatwhooshedinthecoolbreezeoftheevening.Thewindandthelakeprovidedasoundmorepleasurablethananysymphony,andtheviewwasaspectacularshadeofpurpleandpinksunsetdivingintorollinghills.WewalkedfortwentyminutesbeforeInoticedanotherwoodencabinupthehillfromwherewewere.
“What’sthere?”Ipointedatthecabin.
Hemovedahandoverhisthick,darkhair.“DoIlooklikeatourguide?”
“Youlooklikeasourman,Senator,”Itaunted.Helaughed.
“Wecouldcheck.”
“Couldwe?Idon’twanttotrespass.”
“Suchalaw-abidingcitizen.Ifonlyyourfatherwouldsharethevirtue.”
“Hey.”Ifrowned.Heflickedmeunderthechinlightly.Thegesturewasgrowingonme.EspeciallypairedwiththefactthatInolongerbelievedthatWolfedidn’thavefeelingsforme.Notafterthewayheheldmethedayofthecarchase.
“Sterlingkeepstellingmetostopdoingthat.Bunchingyouandyourfathertogether,Imean.It’shard.”
“Doyoudoitoften?”Iwincedashetookmyhandandtuggedmeupthehill.
“Notlately.”
“Andwhyisthat?”Iasked.
“Becauseyou’repolaropposites.”
Aswewentuphill,mybreathingbecamemoreragged.IwasdeterminedtomakeconversationtoavertmythoughtsfromthefactIwasdefinitelynotinshape.Ineglectedmyhorse-ridingsessionsinfavorofschool.Plus,Ididhaveaquestionburningonthetipofmytongue.
“Areyouwillingtotellmewhyyouhatemyfathersomuchnow?”
“No.YoucanfeelfreetostopaskingrightnowbecausethedayI’llbereadytosharethiswithyouisnever.”
“You’resounfair.”Iallowedmyselfasulk.
“Ineverclaimedtobe.Atanyrate,theanswerisn’tsomethingyou’dliketoknow.”
“ButmaybeIdo.Maybeit’dgivemepeacewiththefactthathedisownedme.”
Hestoppedinfrontofwhatwasn’tacabinbutaredandwhitebarn.“ThefactthathegaveuphispreciousgemjustbecauseItoucheditisenoughreasonastowhyhedoesn’tdeserveyou.”
“Andyoudo?”Iasked.
“But,mydarling,that’sthedifferencebetweenmeandyourfather.Ineverpretendedtodeserveyou.Isimplytookyou.”
Ithrewanarmoverthebarn’swoodengate,shakingmyhead.“That’sdefinitelytrespassing,Wolfe.I’mnotgoingin.”
Hejumpedoverthefence,makinghiswayinsidethebarnwithoutlookingback.Therewasfreshhayscatteredbythedoors,andbythescentofmoistsoilandwhatmyridinginstructorlikedtocallroadapples(horsepoop)floatingintheair,Iknewlivestockwereinside.
IheardWolfewhistlingfromthedepthoftheopenbarn,cluckinghistongue.
“She’sabeauty.”
“It’sbeentwosecondssinceyouleftmyside,andyou’realreadyflirting,”Icalledout.Thesmileonmyfacehurtmycheeks.Thesoundofhisthroaty,grufflaughterfilledtheair.Ipressedmythighstogether,somethingemptyinsidemeachingtofinallylethimin.Icouldhavesexwithhimtonight.God,Iwanted
tohavesexwithhimtonight.Forthefirsttimesinceourengagementparty,Ifeltfullypreparedformyhusbandphysically.Morethanprepared.Needy.AndeventhoughWolfewasnexttoimpossibletoread,Ididknowthisabouthim—hewantedme,too.
“C’mere,”hecalled,soundingsurprisingly—perhapsevenshockingly—likeayoungItalianboyfromthevarietyIgrewupwith.Itwasthewaythewordrolledoffhistonguethatgavemepause,butIshookmyhead,laughingtomyself.WolfeKeatonwasaswell-bredastheycame.HislatefatherwasahotelierandhislatemotherwasaSupremeCourtjudge.
“Whatifwegetcaught?”Mygrinthreatenedtoslicemyfaceinhalf.Iheardmorewhistlingofadmirationfromtheinside.Hewhistledlikeastreetkidbutwaltzedlikeanaristocrat.Icouldneverpinhimdown.
“We’regoodforbail,”hedrawled.“Getyourcutebuttoverhere,Nem.”
Ilookedleftandright,duckedmyheadunderthefenceandtiptoedmywayinsidethebarn.WhenIgotin,hegrabbedmyhandandpulledmeclose.Wolfeenvelopedmefrombehindinahug,jerkinghischintooneofthefourstalls,theonlyonethatwasoccupied.AgorgeousArabianhorse,completelyblack,saveforherstarkwhitemaneandtail,staredbackatme.Wolfewasn’texaggerating.Shewasbreathtaking.Andsheblinkedatmewithherbeautiful,tiny,anddenseeyelashes.Ipressedmypalmtomyheart,feelingitpitter-patteringinmychest.I’dneverseenahorsesobeautiful.Hereyeswerecalmandkind,andshebowedherheaddown,acceptingthesheeradmirationthatmust’veshoneinmyeyes.
“Hey,girl.”Imademywaytoher,watchingmypace,allowinghertimetogetusedtomeorchangehermind.Iputmyhandtohermuzzle.
“Whatareyoudoinghereallalone?”Iwhispered.
“Shelooksingoodhealthtome,”Wolfesaidbehindme,leaningagainsttheoppositewallofthebarn.Icouldfeelhimstaringatmeevenwithmybacktohim.
Inodded.
“Thatmaybe,butweneedtofigureoutwhothisbarnbelongsto.”
“Doyoulikeher?”heasked.
“Likeher?Iloveher.She’ssweetandtender.Nottomentiongorgeous.”Imovedmyhandtoherforehead,draggingittoherearsandpoll.Sheletmeasifshe’dknownmeherwholelifetime.
“Remindsmeofsomeone.”
“Pleasedon’ttellmeyou’recomparingmetolivestocknow.”Ilaughed,surprisedtofindoutthatIhadmistinmyeyes.Iimaginedshebelongedtoayounggirl.Shelookedyoungherself.Maybethey’dgrowuptogether.
“WhatshouldIcompareyouto,then?”Hepushedoffthewall,stridingtome,mybackstilltohim.Iheardthehaycrunchingunderhisfeet.Itookadeepbreath,closingmyeyesandsavoringhistouchashisarmswrappedaroundmymidrifffrombehind.
“People,”Iwhispered.
“Ican’tcompareyoutopeople.Therearen’tanypeoplelikeyou,”hesaidsimply,hismouthonmynecknow.Heatgatheredinmybelly,andIfeltmyselfshudderingwithpleasurethatbrokeonmyskullandrushedallthewaydowntomytoes.
“It’syours,”hesnarledinmyear,histeethgrazingmylobe.
“What?”
“Thehorse.It’syours.Thisbarnismine.Allthisland,threemileseachwayfromthecabin,belongstous.Thepreviousownerhadabarn.Tookhishorseswithhimwhenhesoldittomyparents.”Hisdead
parents.TherewassomuchIdidn’tknowabouthimyet.Somuchhekeptfromme.“BeforeImarriedyou,Ididn’twanttogiveyouaweddinggift.ButafterImarriedyou,Irealizedyoudeservemuchmorethandiamonds.”
Iturnedaround,blinkingathim.IknewIshouldthankhim.Hughim.Kisshim.Lovehimevenharderforhiseffort,which,Iknewbynow,didnotcomenaturallytohim.Theideaoflovinghimsoopenlywasstartling.Heheldalltheknowledgeabouteverypieceofmylife,yetIknewnothingabouthim.Perhapsyoudon’tneedtoknowapersoninordertolovethem.Youonlyneedtoknowtheirheart,andWolfe’sheartwasfarbiggerthanI’dpreviouslyimagined.
Hestaredatme,waitingforaresponse.WhenIopenedmymouth,themostunexpectedwordscameout.
“Wecan’tkeepherhere.She’llbelonely.”
Foramoment,hedidn’tsayanything,beforeclosinghiseyesandplasteringhisforeheadtomine,hislipslockingonmyown.Hesighed,warmbreathskatingbetweenmylips.
“Howareyousocompassionate?”Hemumbledintomymouth.
Iclutchedthecollarofhisjacketanddrewhimtome,kissingthecornerofhislips.
“We’lltakehersomewhereontheoutskirtsofChicagowhereyoucanvisitherweekly.Somewherewithlotsofhorses.Andhay.Andrancherswho’lltakecareofher.Andstayfirmlyawayfromyou.Uglyranchers,”headded.“Withnoteeth.”
Ilaughed.“Thankyou.”
“Whatdoyouwanttocallher?”heasked.
“Artemis,”Ianswered,somehowknowingwhathernamewasbeforeIevenreallythoughtaboutit.
“Thegoddessofwildlife.Quitefitting.”Hekissedmynoseextracarefully,thenmyforehead,thenmylips.
Wedrankourbeers,andIatebrowniesnexttoArtemis,sittingonthehay.I’deateninthelastfewdaysmorethanIhadinthemonthbefore.Myappetitewasreturning,andthatwasagoodsign.
“I’vewantedtobecomealawyersinceIwasthirteenyearsold,”hesaid,andIstoppedbreathingaltogether.Hewasconfidinginme.Openingup.Thiswashuge.Thiswaseverything
.“Theworldisanunfairplace.Itdoesnotrewardyouforbeinggood,ordecent,ormoral.Butforbeingtalented,driven,andcunning.Thosethingsarenotnecessarilypositive.Andnoneofthem—noteventalent—isavirtue.Iwantedtoprotectthosewhoneededprotection,butthemoreIworkedoncases,themoreIrealizedthatthesystemwas
“Whyareyousoobsessedwithjustice?”
“Becauseyourfatherrobbedmeoutofmine.Iunderstandthatyourchildhoodhasbeensheltered.Icanevenrespectyourfatherforsendingyoutoboardingschoolanddistancingyoufromthemesshe’screatedinChicago.Butthismess?Igrewupinit.Ihadtosurviveinit.Itleftmescarredandwronged.”
“Whatareyougoingtodowithmyfather?”
“I’mgoingtoruinhim.”
Iswallowed.“Andwithme?Whatareyougoingtodowithme?”
“Saveyou.”
Afterawhile,Ibecamedrowsyfromthebeerandsugar.Iproppedmyheadagainsthischestandclosedmyeyes.Hetookouthisphoneandletmenapatopofhim,veryunlikemyhusband.Sincehehadnoreception,Ididn’tknowwhathewasgoingtodowithhisphone,butpartofmewantedtotestthelimitofhispatience.Toseewhenhewasgoingtoshakemegentlyandtellmeitwastimetogetgoing.
Iwokeupanhourlaterinatinypoolofmydroolonhisshirt.Hewasstillmessingwithhisphone.Iglancedathisscreen,tryingnottomove.Hewasreadinganarticleoffline.Probablyadocumenthe’ddownloadedinadvance.IstirredlightlytolethimknowthatIwasawake.
“Weshouldheadback.”
ItookoneglanceatArtemis,whowassleepingpeacefullyinherstall,andyawned.
“Weshould,”Iagreed.“ButIloveittoomuchhere.”Then,withoutthinking,Itiltedmyheadupandpressedakisstohislips.Hedroppedhisphone,takingmeinhisarmsandpositioningmewithcarefulprecisiononhislaptostraddlehim.IfeltimmediatelymorepowerfulandawakethanIhadbeeninweeks,linkingmyarmsaroundhisneckanddeepeningourkiss.Ibegantogrindagainsthiserection,withouteventhinkingaboutwhatIwasdoing.Iwasn’tonthepillyet—nevergotthechancetobookthatappointment—andIknew,nowmorethanever,thatourfirsttimewasanangryfluke.Wolfedidn’twantchildren,andIcertainlydidn’twanttohavethemwithouthiswishes.Especiallynotatnineteen.I’djuststartedschool.
“I’m…”Isaidbetweenkisses,“I…weneedacondom.I’mnotprotected.”
“I’llpullout.”Hekissedhiswaydownmycleavage,openingthebuttonsofmynavybluepolkadotdress.Ipulledaway,cuppinghisface,stillinawethatIcoulddoso.
“EvenI
knowthat’snotavalidformofcontraception.”
Hegrinned,histeetharowofstraightpearlywhites.Hewasexcruciatinglybeautiful.Ididn’tknowhowIwasgoingtosurviveitifhetookanotherEmilytohisbedinthislifetime.Wewerenolongertwostrangerssharingaroof.Wewereentwinedandentangled,connectedwithinvisiblestrings,eachofustryingtopullaway,onlytocreatemoreknotsthatmadeuscloser.Andhewassosophisticatedandquick-witted,Ididn’tknowhowIcouldkeephim,evenifIwantedto.Dearly.
“Francesca,you’renotgoingtogetpregnantfromonetime.”
“That’samyth,andonewecan’tbelieverightnow,”Ipersisted.
It’snotthatIdidn’twanttobecomeamother.It’sthatIdidn’twanttobecomeamothertoanunwantedbaby.Istillheldontosomefoolishhopehe’dchangehismindwithtimewhenherealizedthatwecouldbehappytogether.Plus,therewassomethingsohorriblydegradingabouttakingthatPlanBpillthathehadleftforme.Ifeltlikehehadrejectedmeandwhatmybodyhadtooffer.
“When’syourperiod?”heasked.Iblinked.
“Onthefirstweekofthemonth.”
“Thenyou’refine.Youshouldn’tevenbeovulatingrightnow.”
“Howdoyouknowthis?”Ilaughed,rakingmyfingersoverhischest,franticforsomereason.
“Mybrother’swife…”Hestopped,amaskoficydifferenceslidingoverhisface.Hewasnotsupposedtosaythat.Iwasnotsupposedtoknowthathehadabrother,andthatthebrotherhadawife.Iblinkedathim,desperateforhimtocontinue.Heswallowed,putmydowncarefully,thenstoodup,offeringmehishand.
“You’reright.Let’sgo,Nem.”
Itookit,knowingwehadquitetheproblem.
Hedidn’twanttoletmein.
AndIcouldnolongerpurgehimout.
Inthecabin,WolfethrewlogsintothefireplacewhileIspearedmarshmallowsontosticks.Ishowedhimhowtomakeas’morestrain,whichisbasicallyahuge,ongoingsandwichofs’moresstillonthestick.ItaughtallmyfriendsinSwitzerlandhowtodoit,andsomeoftheparentswerelivid,sendingangryletterstotheschool’sadministrator.TheysaidtheirdaughtersgainedalotofweightsinceIshowedthemthetrick,andthattheyhadtohavetheirfireplacescleanedonaweeklybasis.
“Arebel,then.”Hegrinnedatme.“Could’vefooledmewithyourhintofBritishboardingschoolaccentandimpeccablemanners.”
“Oh,Iwasneverarebel,”Isaidseriously,pushingbackthenaggingworrythathechosemebecauseImadeawell-bredpotentialfirstlady.“Imostlystayedoutoftrouble,though.Itwasjustthisincident,andwhenIaccidentallysetateacher’stoupeeonfire.”IlaughedinWolfe’sarms,feelingmorerelaxedandhappythanIeverhadbefore.Hedrewmeclosetohimandkissedmeagain,aseriouskiss,fromthevarietythattoldmethattheconversationalportionofthenightwasofficiallyover.
Heflattenedmeonmybackinfrontofthefireplaceasthefiredancedinorangeandyellow,givingtheroomacozyandromanticaireventhoughitwasextravagantlyluxurious.Therusticfurniture,top-notchappliances,andrichleather,deepbrownsofaswiththehuge,woolthrowswereaperfectsettingtowhatIsobadlywantedtohappen.Wewereonthewoodenfloor,lyingoveraknittedrugwithWolfeontopofme.Hegrowledintomymouthandslidhishandintothehemofmypantiesundermydress,hisfingersteasingmyopening,andanytraceoflogicflewoutthewindow.Ifoundmyselfbuckingmygrointowardhishand,askingformoreashedevouredmyneck.Bracinghimselfonhisknees,heopenedthefrontbuttonsofmydresswithhisfreehandwhilehestillplayedwithmyarousal.Whenhegottothelastbutton,heslidthedressoffme,hiseyesrakingovermybody,strippingmefrommyinhibitions.
“You’rebeautiful,”hewhispered.“WorthyofeverysinglecomplimentandflatteryI’veheardaboutyoubeforethemasquerade.IsaidIwantedtoseeformyself,butInevermentioned—yousmashedeverysinglefuckingexpectationI’veeverhad.”
Iblinkedawaythetears,touchinghisfaceeverywhere,claiminghimsomehowbydoingso.“Pleasemakelovetome.”
Notsex.
Notfuck.
Notscrew.
Love,love,love.
Makelovetome
,myheartsilentlybegged.Hekissedmylips,movinghismouthtomynipplesandsucklingononeofthem,applyinggradualpressurewithhisteethandtongue.
Heteasedandsuckedonmytits,thentracedmyfoldswithhisfingers,borrowingmywetnessandusingittocirclemynubindeliciousroundsofpleasure.
“Just,please,doitalready,”Iwhimpered,myfingersrunningthroughhisdarkhairashekissedandleisurelylickedtheinsideofmythighsandthesensitiveplacebetweenthem.“Ineedyouinsideme.”
“Why?”
“Ican’texplain.”
“Yes,youcan.You’rejustafraidto.”
WolfeKeatonwasakissthief,butitwasn’tonlyakissthathestole.Hestolemyheart,too.Rippeditfrommychestandputitinhispocket.IdidwhathepromisedmeIwoulddo,andwillingly—Ispreadmylegsandbeggedhim,onceagain,thistimemeaningeveryword.“Becauseyouwereright.YousaidI’dcometoyourbedwillingly—andIam.So,takeme.”
Hekissedmedirty,bitingdownonmytenderlowerlip,thatwasstillsorefromtheaccident.“Stillnottheentiretruth,butthis’lldo.”
Heroseonhisforearms,reachingforhiswalletandtakingoutacondom.Iswalloweddownmydisappointment.Hepulledback,scanningmyface.
“What’swrong?”
“Nothing.”
Hewasabouttochuckmychin,beforethinkingthebetterofitandrunninghisthumbalongmyjawline.“We’repastthepointoflyingtoeachother.Spill.”
Myeyesdriftedtothecondom.“Ijust…Ithoughtthefirsttime—ourreal
firsttime—wouldbemorepersonal.”MyfaceheatedasIsaidthatbecauseIrealizedthatIberatedhimforsuggestingtheexactsamethingmerehoursago.
“Canyou…?”
“I’llfinishout.”Heshutmeupwithakiss.“Wewon’tmakeahabituntilyou’reonthepill.Deal?”
Inodded.
Hetossedthecondomonthecarpet,hiseyesstaringdeepintomineasheeasedintome.Iinvoluntarilytensed,beforeheloweredhimselftokissmymouth.
“Relaxforme.”
Itookadeepbreath,doingasIwastold.Halfwaythroughthepenetration,itstartedtohurt,butinaverydifferentwaythanlasttime.Thistime,itwasadeliciouspainashestretchedmefromwithin,allowingmethetimetoaccommodatehisgirthbykissingmeinbetween.Heshoweredmewithwordsthatgavemecourageandstrength.WordsIbelievedwitheverypieceofmysoul.
“You’reasgracefulasrain.”
“BeautifulasthestarlessChicagoskyonasad,masqueradenight.”
“Youfeelsogood,Nemesis.Iwoulddrowninyouanddieifyoudon’tstopme.”
Itwasoceansawayfromthelasttimehecommentedaboutmytightness,whichfeltdirtyanddegrading.Iclutchedhisshoulders,moaningsoftlyandcradlinghim,mybodyslowlymirroringhisuntilthediscomfortwasreplacedbylusty,jerkyrollsofmyhips.Ipurredintohisearashedrovefasterintome,bracinghimselfonhishands,determinednottotouchmyribsandforehead.Nottohurtme.Thenhisthrustsbecamesodeepandferal,Iknewhewasclose.Isankmynailsintothefleshofhisback,feelingtheclimaxrisingwithinmybelly,too.Itwasdifferentthanallthetimeshelickedme.Deeper,moreprofound.
“Gonnacomenow,Nem.”
HewasabouttopulloutwhenIclungtohimforafiercekiss,andIfelthimemptyinginsideme.Thewarm,sticky,thickliquidfillingmefromtheinside.Weheldontoeachotherforalongmomentbeforeherolledoffme.Thistime,therewasnoshameanddistress.Ididn’tlookaway.Hedidn’tcradlehisfaceandwishhecouldcrawlintoacrackintheflooranddie.Ourheadsweretiltedtowardoneanother,bothofusonthecarpetbythefire.
Hechuckedmeunderthechin.
“Youfinishedinside.”Ilickedmylips.
Heyawnedandstretchedatthesametime,notlookingparticularlyworried,andthat
worriedme.
“I’mnottakinganotherpill,”Isaid,shakingmyheadasIheldmydresstomychest.“It’snothealthy.”
“Sweetheart.”Hiseyescrinkledashelookedatme.“AsIsaidbefore,thedatesdon’taddup.”
“Screwthedates.”
“CanIscrewyouinstead?”
Ilaughed.“Fine.I’mtakingyourwordforit.”
“Asyoushould.”Hechuckedmychinagain.
“Stopdoingthat,Wolfe.Itoldyou.Itmakesmefeellikeakid.”
Hestoodup,completelynaked,andhoistedmeoverhisshoulder,carefulnottotouchmyribs,thencarriedmetothemasterbedroom,plantingateasingslaponmybuttcheek,beforebitingonitsoftly.
“Whatareyoudoing?”Ilaughedbreathlessly.
“Someverygrown-upthingstoyou.”
Wespentthenightinthesamebed,goingthroughthreecondoms.Themorningafter,wecheckedonArtemisagain.Shewashappytoseeus,andItookherforaquickride,surprisedwiththeminimaldiscomforthavingsexfourtimeslastnighthadcausedme.Wegaveherfoodandwaterandsatbyhersideinthebarn.Thatmorning,inthebarnwithArtemisasouraudience,Wolfetaughtmehowtoperformoralsexonaman.Heloweredmetomyknees,stoodup,unzippedhisdarkDiesels,andtookhimselfout.Atfirst,hetaughtmehowtostrokeit,thenhowtosqueezeit.WhenIfeltcomfortableenough,heaskedifIwantedtoputitinmymouth.
“Yes.”Ilookeddownatthehay,swallowingdownmyshame.
“Lookatme,Francesca.”
Ilookedup,blinkingathisgrayeyes.
“There’snothingwrongwithwhatyou’reabouttodo.Youknowthat,right?”
Inodded,butIdidn’tactuallybelieveit.IwasprettycertaineverysinglepersonIwenttochurchwith,includingmyownparents,wouldhaveaheartattackiftheyknewwhatweweredoing
“Whatifpeoplefindout?”
Helaughed.Thebastardfull-blownlaughed.
“Everyoneyouknowolderthaneighteenhashadoralsex,Francesca.”
“Ididn’t.”
“Andthankfuckforthat.”
Surely,hewasjusttellingmewhatIwantedtohear.Wolfeprobablyreadthedoubtonmyfacebecausehestrokedthesideofmycheekandsighed.
“DoyouthinkI’mapervert?”heasked.
“What?”Ifeltmyfaceheating.“No,ofcoursenot.”
“Good.BecauseIeatyourpussyeveryday.Havebeenforweeks,now.Andplantodosofortherestofmylife.Yougivingyourhusbandpleasureisnothingtobeashamedof.”
“Butyousaidoralsexisdegrading.”Ilickedmylips,tossinghiswordsfromwhenwewereengagedtotheairbetweenus.
“It’sdegradingtokneel,ingeneral.Itisnotdegradingtokneelforsomeonewhoisworthyourpride.”
IknewWolfewasnotonetotalklightlyaboutpride.Hewas,afterall,theNarcissustomyNemesis.Whatevermadehimclutchtohispridelikethishadscarredhimthoroughly.Iwrappedmylipsaroundhisengorgedhead,feelinghishandguidingminearoundthebaseofhisshaft,beforeheputhishandoverthebackofmyheadandslowlydraggedmymouthalonghisgirth,untilhiscrowntouchedthebackofmythroat.Iwantedtogagbutheldback.
“Nowsuckonit.”Hesankhisfingersintomyhairandclutchedmyroots,hard.
IwassurprisedbyhowmuchIenjoyedsuckinghiscock.Inotonlyenjoyedtheactandthevelvety,warmskin,butalsohisunique,manlyscentandthewayherespondedtoit,jerkinginmymouthandlettingoutdesperategroans.Myjawandlipshurtbythetimeheheldmyhairandpulledoutofme,tiltingmyheadupandmakingmelookdeepintohiseyes.
“YouknowIrespectyou,”hesaidgruffly.
“Iknow,”Imurmured,mylipsswollenandsensitive.
“Good.Becauseforthenextfiveseconds,it’sgoingtolooklikeIdon’t.”Hesqueezedhislengthandshothiscumallovermyfaceandbreasts.
Thewarmliquidslithereddownmycheek.Itwasthickandslimybutoddlyenough,notdegrading.AllIcouldfeelwasmorelust,andmywombclenchingagainstnothing,beggingforsomething
thatmyhusbandhad.
Ilickedthecumfromthecornerofmylipsandlookedbackuptohim,smiling.
Hesmiledback.
“Ithinkwe’regoingtogetalongfine,mydearwife.”IWOKEUPWITHTHE
same,terriblecraving.Asweettooththatwouldn’tgoaway.
Ifeellikeastrawberrymilkshake.
No.I
needone.Bad.
Irolledfrommysideofthebedandbumpedintohardabs,groaningasIcrackedoneeyeopen.FiveweeksafterourretreattoLakeMichigan,andI’dfoundoutsomeinterestingfactsaboutmynewlifewithSenatorWolfeKeaton.Foronething,Iverymuchenjoyedwakingmyhusbandupwithablowjob.Foranother,hethoroughlyenjoyedmynewroleashishumanalarm.Ikissedmywaydownhisstomach,followingthehappytrailofdarkhair,andloweredhisgraysweatpantswithhiscollegenameonthem.OnceIhadhiminmymouth,hestirredawake,butunliketheothertimes,heflungtheblanketsoffofusandpulledmebymyhair,gentle,butfirm.
“NotgonnacutittodayI’mafraid.”HethrewmebackonthemattresssoIwasonallfours,retrievingacondomfromthenightstand.Istillwasn’tonthepill.IwassupposedtobookanappointmentassoonaswegotbackfromLakeMichigan,butIwasembarrassedtogobymyself,knowingI’dgetcheckeddownthere.Ididn’twanttogowithMs.Sterling,andknewthatMamaandClaradidnotbelieveincontraception,ingeneral.IcalledAndreathreetimes,andshesaidthatshe’dhavelovedtocomewithme,butmyfatherwouldkillherifshewasseenwithmeinpublic
“It’snotpersonal,Frankie.Youknowthat,right?”
Idid.Iknewthat.Hell,Icouldn’tevenblameher.Ifearedmyfatherjustasmuchatsomepoint.
Thisleftmewithaskingmyhusbandtocomewith.WhenIheavilyhintedatappreciatinghiscompanyoverdinnerthatweek,hedismissedmeandsaidIcouldgoonmyown.
“Whatifithurts?”Iaskedhim.Heshrugged.
“Mybeingtherewon’ttakeawaythepain.”ItwasBS,andheknewit.
Thenextday,hecamebackfromworkwithahugepackageofcondomsandareceiptfromCostco.
Wolfethrewtheno-sleepingtogetherruleoutthewindow.Westillhadourclothesandbelongingsinseparatewingsofthehouse,butwealwaysspenttheentirenighttogether.Mostnights,hecametomyroom,holdingmecloseaftermakinglovetome.Butsometimes,especiallyondaysheworkedverylate,Ienteredhisdomainandservedhiminhisbed.Webegantoattendgalasandcharityeventstogether.Webecamethat
couple.ThecoupleIalwaysthoughtAngeloandIwouldbe.Peoplewatcheduswithopenfascinationasweflirtedwitheachotheratourdinnertable.Wolfewouldalwayshavehishandonmine,pressakisstomylips,andbehaveliketheperfectgentlemanthathewas—afarcryfromthesarcastic,tauntingbastardwhodraggedmetoBishop’sson’swedding.
Ievenbegantolowermyguardwhenitcametootherwomen.Infact,SenatorKeatonshowednointerestinanyofthemeventhoughtheofferskeptpouringin,including,butnotlimitedto,pantiesI’dfoundinourmailbox(Ms.Sterlingwasoutragedanddisgusted;shewavedthepairofthongsallthewaytothetrashbin),andendlessbusinesscardsWolfeandIfoundourselvesemptyingfromhispocketattheendofeverynight.
LifewithWolfewasgood.
Betweenschool,horsebackridingwithArtemis,mygarden,andthepianolessonsIresumed,Ihadverylittletimetositandponderovermyfather’snextchessmove.Mamacameovereveryweek,andwegossiped,dranktea,andflippedthroughfashionmagazines,somethingsheenjoyedandIcouldn’tstand,butIhumoredher.MyhusbandnevershowedanyoppositiontohavingMamaorClaraover.Infact,heofteninvitedthemtostaylonger,andMs.SterlingandClarareallyseemedtohititoff,sharingtheirlovefordaytimesoapoperasandevensneakilytradingromancebookswitheachother.
IbumpedintoAngeloafewtimesatschoolafterLakeMichigan.Hewastakingclasses,too,thoughwedidn’thaveanytogether.Iwasprettysurethatcouldneverhappen.NotwhenmyhusbandwassoacutelyawareofhispresenceatNorthwestern.Ifelttheneedtoapologizeforwhathappenedthedayofmywedding,andhewaveditoffandtoldmethatitwasn’tmyfault.Whichmight’vebeentruebutthatdidn’tmakemefeelanylessguilty.Atthesametime,IcouldunderstandwhyWolfedidn’twantAngeloandmetomaintainourfriendship,seeingasIwassillyinlovewithhimwhenwe’dfirstmet.Angelo,however,wasn’tafanofmyhusband’sopinion.Everytimewemetatthecafeteriaorlocalcoffeeshop,he’dstrikeuplengthyconversationswithmeandfillmeinoneverylittledetailfrommyoldneighborhood.
Isnickeredwhenhetoldmewhogotmarried,whogotdivorced,andthatEmily—“our
Emily”—wasseeingaBostonianmobsterfromNewYork,Irish,noless.
“GoodLord!”Imadeascandalizedface.Helaughed.
“Thoughtyoushouldknow,incaseyouwerestillwonderingaboutmeandher,goddess.”
Goddess.
Myhusbandwasstoic,powerful,andruthless.Angelowassweetandconfidentandforgiving.Theywerenightandday.Summerandwinter.AndIwasbeginningtorealizeIknewwhereIbelonged—inthestormwithWolfe.
OneconsciousdecisionItookinordertomaintainmyblissfullifewithmyhusbandwasnottoopenthewoodenbox.Technically,Ineededtodothatalongtimeago.RightaftermyweddingtoWolfe.ButIonlyhadonenoteleft,andWolfeturnedouttobetherightfulownerofmyheartwithbothpreviousnotes.Ididn’twanttoruinhisperfectstrike.NotwhenIwassoclosetohappiness,Icouldalmostfeelitatmyfingertips.
NowIwasfeelingwoozyanddrowsy,stillcravingthemilkshake,butalsodanglingmybuttinmyhusband’sface,wantinghimtosatisfymyotherneed.Wolfeenteredmefrombehind,sheathedandfullyerect.
“Mysweetpoison,mygorgeousrival.”Hekissedthebackofmyneckashedroveintomefrombehind.Ipurred.Whenhefinishedinsideme,hetookoffhiscondom,tieditupandstrolledtothebathroom,completelynaked.Icollapsedonhisbedfacedown,aheapofwarmfleshandlust.
Heemergedtenminuteslater,freshlyshaven,showered,andalreadygettingdressedinafullsuit.BythetimeIrolledonmybacktotakealookathim,hehadatieon.
“Iwantastrawberrymilkshake.”Ipouted.
Hefrowned,flippinghistieandtyingitwithoutevenlookingatamirror.“Youdon’tnormallyhaveasweettooth.”
“I’mabouttogetmyperiod.”Itwas,infact,alittleoverdue.
“I’llhaveSmithygetyouonebeforeIgotowork.Yougoodforschool?Needaride?”
Iwasduetotakemydriver’stestnextweek.
“Idon’twantSmithytogetmeamilkshake.Iwantyoutogetmeone,”Iroseonmyknees,walkingonthemacrossthebedandtowardhim.“Healwaysscrewsmyordersup.”
“What’stoscrewupinorderingastrawberrymilkshake?”Wolfereturnedtohisbathroomtoputsomeofthedelicious-smellingproductinhishair.Oneday,Iwasgoingtohaveaheartattackwithhowattractivehewasandhowtantalizinghesmelled.
“You’dbesurprised,”Ilied.Smithywasgreat.Ijusthadanirrationalneedtohavemyhusbanddosomethingniceforme.SinceArtemis,hewascarefulnottoshowanysignsofromanticgestures.
“I’llgetyouyourmilkshake,”hesaidinnoparticulartone,leavingtheroom.
“Thankyou!”Icalledout.
Amomentlater,Ms.Sterling,thenumber-oneeavesdropperinNorthAmerica,poppedherheadintotheroom.
“YoutwoarethethickestsmartpeopleIknow.”Sheshookherhead.Iwasstilllyingonthebed,staringattheceiling,baskinginmypost-orgasmbliss.Thesheetswerewrappedaroundmybody,butIwasn’tparticularlyworriedaboutwhatshesaw.Shemust’veheardushundredsoftimebynowdoingwhatmarriedcouplesdid.
“Whatdoyoumean?”Istretchedlazily,stiflingayawn.
“You’repregnant,mysweet,foolishchild!”
No.
It’snothappening.
Itcan’thappen.
Onlyitcan.Itmust.Anditmakessomuchsense.
ThewordsloopedinmyheadwhenIpaidformypregnancytestatWalgreensbeforeIwenttoschool.Idevouredthestrawberrymilkshakeasifmylifedependedonit,onlytofeelterriblynauseousafterwards,andIhadabadfeeling,evenbeforeIcroucheddownandpeedonthestickintherestroomsofmyschool,thatMs.Sterlingwasright.Isworeundermybreath.IcoulduseAndrearightnow.Someonetoholdmewhenitwastimetoflipthatstickandchecktheresults.ButAndreawasscaredofmydad,anditwastimetofindandmakenewfriends,outsideofTheOutfit.
Puttingthecapbackonthetestandsettingmyphonetocountdowntheminutes,Ipressedmyforeheadagainstthedoor.Iknewtwothingsforcertain:
Ididn’twanttobepregnant.
Ididn’twanttonotbepregnant.
IfIwerepregnant,I’dhaveahugeproblemonmyhands.Myhusbanddidnotwantkids.Hetoldmesohimself.Quiteafewtimes,actually.HeevenwentsofarassuggestingI’dliveinadifferentplaceandgetaspermdonorifIcaredsomuchforchildren.Bringinganunwantedbabyintotheworldwasimmoral,ifnotcompletelyderanged,consideringourcircumstances.
Butthen,oddly,notbeingwithchildwasalsogoingtoleavemedisappointed.BecausetherewasexcitementandanticipationinfindingoutthatIwascarryingWolfe’sbaby.Mymindtookmetoinsaneplaces.PlacesIhadnobusinessvisiting.Whateyecolorwouldourchildhave?Theywouldhavedarkhair.Slimbuild,likebothofus.But—grayorblue?Tallorshort?Andwouldtheyhavehiswitandmytalentwiththepiano?Wouldtheybeivoryandsnow,likemypaleskin?Orwouldtheyhavehisrathertancomplexion?Iwantedtoknoweverything.Iresistedtheurgetodragmypalmovermystomach,imaginingitgettingswollenandroundandperfect,carryingthefruitofourlove.
Thefruitofmy
love.
Nooneeversaidthathelovedme.Nooneevensuggestedthat.NotevenMs.Sterling.
Myphonebeeped,andIjumped,myheartstutteringinmychest.Nomattertheresult,Iwantedtogetitoverwith.Iflippedthepregnancytestoverandblinkedback.
Twolines.Blue.Sharp.Prominent.Strong.
Iwaspregnant.
Ibrokeintotears.
Icouldn’tbelieveitwashappeningtome.Wolfeasked—no
,hestrictlystated
—hedidn’twantanychildren,andnow,notevensixmonthsafterourwedding,whenwefinallyhitourstride,IwasgoingtotellhimthatIwaswithchild.Apartofmepointedout,quitereasonably,thatthiswasn’tentirelymyfault.Hewastoblame,too.Infact,he
wastheonewhotriedtocoaxmeintohavingunprotectedsexinthefirstplace,withthenonsenseaboutpullingout(greatjobwiththatone),andcalculatingthedatesandtellingmeIwasn’tovulating.
Onlybothofusdidn’ttakeintoconsiderationthefactthatmyperiodhadchangedtheminuteItookthePlanBpill.
Thenagain,I
wastheonewhodrewhimclosewhenhecameinsideme,preventinghim—albeitbyaccident—frompullingout.Iknewthattherewasnootheroccasioninwhichthismighthavehappened.Savefortheweekendatthecabin,wealwaysusedcondoms.
Shoulderssagging,Igotoutofthebathroom,draggingmyselfdownthecorridor,outofthecollege,andintotheunassumingautumnday.IneededtoconfideinMs.Sterling.She’dknowwhattodo.
IwasheadingtowardSmithy’scarwhenAngelotackledmetothegrassoutofnowhere.Iyelped.ThefirstthingIthoughtaboutwasthebaby.Ipushedhimoff,watchingashelaughedbreathlessly,tryingtotickleme.
“Angelo…”Hysteriabubbledinmychest.Wasn’tthefirsttrimesterthemostcrucialone?Icouldn’taffordtorollontheground.“Getoff!”
Hescrambledtohisfeet,rubbinghisdarkblondhairandstaringmedown.Wherewasitcomingfrom?Angelowasalwaysreservedandrespectful.Hewasalwaysnicetome,true,buthenevertouchedmelikethisintheweeksafterIgotmarried.
“Jesus,goddess,sorry.”Heofferedmehishand,andItookit.Ihatedthathestillcalledmegoddess,butIguessedtherewerenolawsagainstidleflirtation.Eventhoughmaybethereoughttobe.Thatwaywomenwouldn’tbeabletopropositionmyhusbandeverytimeheleftthehouse.
Thatwayyou’dalsoliveinanoppressivecountry.
Istoodupandlookedaround,notreallysurewhatIwaslookingfor.Icleanedmydressandcardiganfreeofgrassblades.
“Itlookedlikeyouwerehavingabadday.Ijustwantedtomakeyoulaugh,”Angeloexplained.HowcouldItellmysweetfriendthathewasabsolutelyright?Iwashavingboththeworstandthebestdaycombined.Ibrushedabladeofgrassfromhisshoulder,smiling.
“It’snotyourfault.I’msorryIwassnippy.Iwasjustsurprised.”
“Yourdriveriswaitingforyouontheothersideofthelot.Soareyourexecutiveprotectionagents,who,bytheway,aredoingacrappyjob,seeingasthey’renotwithyourightnow.”Angelowiggledhisbrows,digginghisfingerintomyshouldermusclesinasoothingmassage.WolfeinsistedIhavebodyguardswithmeafterthecarchase.ItwasonlythisweekthatIhadfinallymanagedtoconvincehimtobreakprotocolandhavethebodyguardsstayinthecarandleavemealoneonschoolgrounds.Wehadn’theardfrommyfatherorMikeBandiniinawhile.Apparently,theywerebusytryingtokeepTheOutfitafloatandfromWolfe’sironfist.AndifIeverwantedtomakefriendsatschool,Icouldn’thavetwomenthesizeofelephantsshadowingmyeverystep.
Ididn’ttellAngeloaboutwhathisfatherdid.UnlikeWolfe,Iwasgoodwithmakingtheseparationbetweenfatherandoffspring.MaybebecauseIknewtoowellwhatitfeltliketobeembarrassedbyyourparents’actions.
“Thanks.”Ithrewmybagovermyshoulder,standinginfrontofhim,awkwardandguilt-stricken.Hewasmakinganeffort,tryingtorebuildthatbridgethathadburnedbetweenus,andIwasstandingontheotherendwithamatch,readytodestroyitonceagain.Buttherewasadelicacyinkeepingmyloyaltytomyhusbandandpatchingthingsupwithaboywho’dmeanttheworldtome.AtightropeIwastooclumsytowalk.
“Ineedtomakeaconfession.”Hemessedwithhistousled,beautifulhair.IthurtmyhearttorecognizewhatIrefusedtoseeinthebeginningofmyengagementtoWolfe.Thatoneday,Angelowouldmakeanamazinghusbandtosomeone,butthatsomeonewasn’tgoingtobeme.
“Goon.”Irubbedmyeyes.Ineverfeltsotiredinmylife,andit’snotlikeImissedanhourofsleep.Helookeddownnow,shufflingfromfoottofoot.Nolongerconfidentandcocky.
“Thenightofyourengagementparty,somethinghappened…somethingthatshouldn’thavehappened.”Heswallowed,hisgazebecominghooded.Hetookadeepbreath.“Theblondechickfromthemasqueradewasthere.YoujustshutmedownafterIhadthiswholespeechinmyheadabouthowtheeveningwasgoingtoplayout.Ifuckedupandcouldn’tfindmywords,andyoukeptlookingforyourfiancé.Ifeltlikemyworldwascollapsing,onewallatatime.”Herubbedhischeeknowasthoughhe’dbeenslappedwiththetruth.“Imadeamistake.Ahugeone.Isleptwiththereporter.Actually,thatwasonlyasmallerror.Nottheterribleone.TheterribleoneoccurredafterwardwhenImetyourhusbandonthestairs.”
Ilookedup,searchinghisface.Tomyshock,IfoundAngeloblinkingbacktears.Actualtears.TearsIabsolutelyhatedseeingthereeventhoughIknewwhathewasabouttotellmewasnothingshortofawful.Thatitruinedmeinalotofways.WhateverWolfeandIweretoday,hecouldnevererasethenighthetookmyinnocencebyforce.
“Youtoldhimweslepttogether?”Myvoicetrembled.
Heshookhishead.“No.No.Iwouldn’tdothat.Ijust…Ididn’texactlytellhimitdidn’t
happen,either.Iwasbusytryingtogetbackathiminsteadofclearingupwhatlookedlikeamisunderstanding.Iwassomad,Frankie.Andapartofmestillhopedthatyouguysweregoingtobreakupoverit.Iwantedtogivefatealittlepush.Iwasn’tplanningonruiningitforbothofyou.Imean,Iwas,butonlybecauseIthoughtyouwereonboard.Ithoughtyouwantedtotrygivinghimachancebecauseyourparentspressuredyou.Notbecause,well…”
“BecauseIlovehim?”Ifinished,myvoicehoarse.Isqueezedhisshoulder.Helookeddownatmyhandandsniffed.
“Yeah.”
“Ido,”Isaid,lettingoutanexasperatedsigh.“God,Angelo,I’msosorry,butIdo.Ineverplannedonfallingforhim.Itjusthappened.Butthat’sthethingaboutlove,isn’tit?It’slikedeath.Youknowitwillhappenoneday.Youjustdon’tknowhoworwhyorwhen.”
“That’saratherdarkviewonlife.”Heofferedmeagrimsmile.
Icouldn’tbemadatAngelo.Notreally.AndespeciallywhenWolfeandIhadovercomewhatheandKristenthrewatus.Somewouldevencallitthepivotalmomentofourentirerelationship.
“Still.”Angelogrinned,hisboyishdimplesonfulldisplay.ThesamesmilethatbrokemyhearteverytimeIsawitonhisface,peekingunderhisdarklashes.“Ifyoueverchangeyourmind,I’mhere.”
“I’mcompromised,”Iansweredhimwithanarchedbrow,blushing.Hesighedtheatrically.
“Believeitornot,goddess,soamI.”
“Getout.”Islappedhischest,feelingthetensionevaporatingfrommybones.“Whenwasyourfirsttime?Withwho?”Thequestionsatonthetipofmytongueforyears,butupuntilnow,Ineverhadthechancetoask.Weweretryingthewholefriendshipthingnow.Well,sortof.
Angeloletoutasharpexhale.
“Junioryear.CherylEvans,aftercalcclass.”
“WasshelittleMissPopular?”Igrinned.
“Guessyoucouldsaythat.Shewastheteacher,”hedeadpanned.
“What?”Ichokedonmylaughter.“Youlostyourvirginitytoyourteacher?”
“Shewas,like,twenty-three.Noothergirlthatagewouldputoutwithoutaseriousrelationship,andIwasgettingantsy.Iwasalsosavingthewholerealthingforyou,”headmitted.Itmademesadandhappyatthesametime.Thatlifetookusinadifferentdirection,butthatAngelowhomIlovednottoolongagowasonthesamewavelengthasIwas.
“Welp.”Hegavemetwothumbsdown.“Maybeinthenextlifetime.”
Lasttimehesaiditwouldhappeninthisone.Igrinned.
“Almostdefinitely.”
Wehugged,andIhurriedacrossthelawntowardthelineofdouble-parkedvehiclesfullofcollegestudentsbummingridesfromoneanother,scanningthelandscapeforSmithy’sshielded,brand-newCadillac.Thistime,Wolfewentaboveandbeyondwithalltheaccessoriestomakesureitwasbulletproof.IspottedSmithyinthecar,messingwithhisphone,andsmiledtomyself.Everythingwasgoingtobeokay.Wolfemightnotrespondtothenewswithenthusiasm,butIhopedhewouldn’tbecrushed,either.IwasalmostatthecarwhenKristen,thejournalist,appearedoutofthinair,jumpinginfrontofme,lookinghaggard.HerhairwasfrizzyandthebagsunderhereyespurplishfromwhatIassumedwaslackofsleep.
Mytwoexecutiveprotectionagentsgotoutofthecarsimultaneously,hurryingtowardus.Iraisedmyarmandwavedthemaway.
“It’sokay.”
“Mrs.Keaton.”
“It’sfine
,”Iinsisted.“Takeastepback,please.”
Kristendidn’tevennoticethem.Shezigzaggedinplace.
“Francescaaaa,”sheslurred,pointingherfingerinmygeneraldirection.Shewastoodrunktopointitatme.Itriedtorememberwhereweleftthingsoffwithher.LastIheard,Wolfesaidhegotherfired.Shewasobviouslyfeelingvindictive.Butit’dbeenweeks.
“Wherehaveyoubeen?”Iasked,tryingnottoscanhertatteredshirtanddirtyjeans.Shewavedahandaround,hiccupping.
“Oh,hereandthere.Everywhere,really.Crashedatmyparents’inOhio.Camebackheretotryandlookforajob.Calledyourhusbandhundredsoftimetotryandgetmeun-blacklisted.Andthen…crap,whyamItellingyouthisanyway?”Shelaughed,flippinghergreasyhairaside.IlookedbehindmetoseeifAngelowasaround.Shereadmymind.
“Relax.IjustfuckedyourfriendsoWolfewouldgetmadatyou.He’stooyoungformeanyway.”
Andtoogoodforyou
,Ithoughttomyself.
PregnancyobviouslymessedwithmylogicbecauseIfelttheurgetorubherarmorbuyheracupofcoffee.Iknewdamnwellthatshetriedtoruinmylifetosavehers,andthatshewantedmyhusbandforherself(atleastbeforehegotherfired).Butthethingaboutcompassionwasthatitwasn’tgiventopeoplewhonecessarilydeservedit,butneededitnonetheless.
“Obviously,myplanfailedmiserably.”Shedraggedherchippedfingernailsoverhercheeks,scanningmypristinewhitecardiganovermyknee-lengthblackdress.
“Youlooklikeafuckingchurchgirl.”
“Iamachurchgirl.”
Shesnortedoutalaugh.
“He’sakinkybastard.”
“Ormaybehejustlikesme.”Iduginanimaginaryknifeintoherchest.Shedid,afterall,trytomakemyhusbandbelievethatIcheatedonhim.Nomatterhowdirehersituationwas,therewasnoneedtobemeantome.Ihadn’tdoneanythingtoher.
“Goodone.WolfejustlikesfuckingsomethingthatbelongstoArthurRossi.Youknow,becauseArthurfuckedwithhis
family.Poeticjustice,andallthat.”
“Excuseme?”Itookastepback,assessingherfullynow.I’dhadmyfillofsurprisestoday.Betweenthepregnancytest,Angelo’sconfession,andnowthis,Irealizedthattheuniversewastryingtotellmesomething.Hopefullynotthatmyfairytale,whichhadn’tbegunjustyet,wasendingabruptly.
Oneofmybodyguardstookastepforward,andIspunonhim.
“Stayaway.Lethertalk.”
“Hedidn’ttellyou?”Kristenthrewherheadbackandlaughed,pointingatme.Ridiculing
me.“Didyoueverwonderwhyhetookyoufromyourfather?Whathehadonhim?”
Idid.Allthetime.Hell,IaskedWolfeaboutitonadailybasis.
Butofcourse,admittingthistoherwasgivinghermorepowerthanshedeserved.
Kristenleanedherelbowoverahugeoaktree,whistling.“WheredoIbegin?Thisisallconfirmed,bytheway,soyoucancross-examineyourhusbandtheminuteyougetbackhome.WolfeKeatonwasn’treallybornWolfeKeaton.HewasbornFabioNucci,apoor,bastardItaliankidwholivednottoofarfromyourblock.Samezipcodebuttrustme—verydifferenthouses.Hismommawasadrunk,neglectfulexcuseforahumanbeing,andhisfatherwasoutofthepicturebeforehewasevenborn.Hisolder—mucholderbrother,Romeo—raisedhim.Romeobecameacop.Hewasdoingafinejobuntilhewascaughtinthewrongplaceatthewrongtime.Namely—Mama’sPizza,thelittleparlorthreeblocksdownfromyou.RomeowenttogetWolfesomepizza.Theywalkedintoagunfight.Romeo,stillcladinhisuniform,burstthroughthebackoftheparlortobreakthingsoff.Theyhadtokillhim,orhe’dhaveoutedallofthem.YoufatherkilledRomeoinfrontofyourhusbanddespitehisdesperatepleas.”
Ineverbeg.
Ineverkneel.
Ihavemypride.
Wolfe’swordscamebacktohauntme,makingmyskindampenandchill.Thatwaswhyhewassoadamantonnotnegotiatingorshowingremorseormercy.Myfatherdidn’tsparehimanyofthosethingswhenheneededthemthemost.IstaredatKristen,knowingtherewasmore.Knowingthatwasthetipofaverythick,verylethaliceberg.
Shecontinued.
“Afterthathappened,hewasadoptedbytheKeatons,arichfamilyfromtheright
sideofthetracks.Thesamehouseyouliveinrightnow,infact.TheKeatonswereChicago’sfinest.Ahigh-profiledcouplewhoneverhadanychildrenandhadtheworldtogivetohim.Theychangedhisnametoseparatehimfromthemessthatwashisearlylife.ThingswerelookingupforlittleWolfeyforaminutethere.Heevenmanagedtoovercometheseveretraumaofseeingyourfatherputtingabulletbetweenhisbrother’seyes.”
“Whydidn’tmyfatherdealwithWolfe?Sincehewatched,too?”IhatedthatIwasaskingherquestions.Butunlikemyhusband,mypridewasnotasvitalformysurvival.
Kristenhuffed.“Wolfewasjustakidbackthen.Hedidn’tknowthekeyplayersanddidn’thaveanopenbeefwithTheOutfitlikehisbrother.Nottomention,noonewasgoingtobelievehim.Plus,Iguessevenyourfatherhassomemorals,”shescannedmewithdisgust.Myjawtensed,butIsaidnothing,tooafraidshe’dstoptalking.
“Anyway,”shesingsonged,“canyouguesswhathappenednext?”
“No,”Igrittedout.“ButIbetyou’llbehappytotellme.”
Iknewthatshewastellingthetruth.NotbecauseKristenwasn’tcapableoflying,butbecauseshewashavingtoomuchfundeliveringthenewsforitnottobeaccurate.
“Wolfegoesofftocollege.Makesfriends.Liveshisbestlife,sotospeak.SecondyearatHarvard,he’sabouttocomebackforsummervacationwhentheballroomwherehisparentsareattendingacharitygalaexplodeswithatonofpoliticiansandhigh-enddiplomatsinside.Anyguesseswho’sresponsibleforit?”
Myfather,ofcourse.
Irememberedthatincident.OnesummerwhenIwaseight,wedidn’tgotoItaly.Myfatherwasarrestedfortheballroomincidentandreleasedshortlyafterforlackofevidence.Mymotherwascryingallthetime,andherfriendswerealwaysaround.WhenDadgotout,theystartedfighting.Alot.Maybethatwasthemomentmymotherrealizedshedidn’tmarryagoodman.
Intheend,theydecidedthatthebestcourseofactionwouldbetosendmetoboardingschool.Iknewtheywereprotectingmefrommyfather’sreputationhereinChicagoandgivingmemybestshot.
Kristenwhistledagain,shakingherhead.“Sufficeittosay,yourhusbanddidnotreturnfromthat
trauma.Theproblemwas,officially,andonpaper,theblowoutwastheresultofagasleak.Theentirehotelchainshutdownsoonafter.Yourfather’sarrestwasafarce.Theycouldn’tevensendhimtotrialeventhougheveryoneknewhegotbackatWolfe’smother,aSupremeCourtjudge,forrulingagainstoneofhisbestfriends.”
LorenzoFlorence.Hewasstillinprison.Hesmuggledoverfive-hundredkilogramsofheroinintotheUS,workingformyfather.
Istumbledback,collapsingtothegrass.Mybodyguardshadhadenough.Theybothstartedinmydirection.Kristenpushedoffthetree,squattingtomyeyelevel,andsmilingbrightly.“SonowWolfereallywantstogetbackatyourfatherandgatherammoagainsthim.He’sbeendoingthateversincehegraduated,actually.Throughprivateinvestigatorsandendlessresources,hemanagedtofindsomethingonyourfather.Whateveritis,heishangingitoverhishead.Youknowtheendgamewasalwaystokillyourfather,right?”
Icouldn’tanswer.TheydraggedmetowardthecarwhileIkickedandscreamed.Iwantedtostayandlisten.Iwantedtorunaway.
“He’llbetheheirtoTheOutfit…”Kristenyelled,runningafterus.Oneofthebodyguardspushedher,butshewashavingtoomuchfun.
“Hedoesn’twantTheOutfit,”Iscreamedbacktoher.
“He’lldiscardyoujustashe’salwaysplanned.Haveyoueverwonderedwhyheneverbotheredtohaveyousignapre-nup?Don’tbesosureyou’llgetoutofthisinonepiece.It’snotlikeanyonefromWolfe’sfamilydid…”
“No,you’rewrong.”Ifeltmylowerliptrembling.Theyduckedmeintothebackseatofthevehicleandslammedthedoorbehindme.Ifeltdizzyandnauseous.Iwastoophysicallyweakandemotionallyshockedtocopewiththeserevelations.
Kristenappearedatthewindowandsignaledformetorollitdown.OneoftheEPAsnearlybeatherofffrominsidethecar,butIrolledthewindowdown,anyway.Shepushedherheadintothecar.
“He’llthrowyououtbytheendoftheyear,sweetheart.Oncehe’shadenoughoffuckingyou.I’veseenithappenathousandtimesbefore.WolfeKeatondoesn’tdolove,sweetie.”
“Maybenotwithyou,”Ibitback.Shefrowned,lookingwounded.
“You’redelusional,”shesaid.
“Andyou’redesperate.Howdidyoufindoutthisinformation?”
Sheshrugged,abittersmilespreadingonherfacelikemargarine.Easybuttoxic.
Ididn’thavetoaskagain.Iknew.
Myfather.
Thatnight,whenWolfearrivedatmybedtobringmethedinnerI’dmissed,Iturnedhimaway.Iwasn’treadytofacehim,andIdefinitelywasn’treadytotellhimaboutthepregnancy.IknewdeepdownthatKristenwasatleastpartlyright.ThiswasWolfe’splanallalong.Toruinmyfamilyanddiscardmesomewherealongtheway.Whethertheplanwasstillinmotionornotwasbesidethepoint.NotthatIhadthegreenestcluewhathisplanwasnowadays.
AllIknewwasthattheoddswereagainstus.
“Everythingokay?”heasked,brushingmyhairawayfrommyface.
Icouldn’tlookhimintheeye.IflippedthroughpagesinabookIdidn’treallyread.IwasprettysureIwasholdingitupsidedown,too,butcouldn’ttell,sincemyeyescouldbarelyregistertheshapeofthebook,letaloneitscontents.
“Sure.Ijustgotmyperiod,”Ilied.
“Icouldstillstay,”hesuggested,hishandslidingfrommycheek,histhumbtiltingmychinuptofacehim.“I’mnotcomingherejustforthesex.”
“Well,I’mnotinthemoodtogiveyouablowjob,either.”
“Francesca
,”hegrowled,andmyeyesdarteduptomeethis.IhatedthefactthatIlovedhimsomuch.Hewasright.Love,bydefinition,wasunrequited.Onepartyalwayslovedmore.
“ShouldIbeworried?”hedemanded
“Whatabout?”Iflippedanotherpage.
“Yourabilitytoread,foronething.You’reholdingitupsidedown,”hesnapped.Iclosedthebook.“You.Us.This
.”Hemotionedbetweenuswithhishand.
“No.”
Silencefellbetweenus,buthestillwouldn’tleave.Ibecameagitated.Itwasweirdhowwestartedthemorningunassumingly,withastrawberrymilkshakeandaquickie,andhowfastwecouldturnintoenemiesagain.
“Let’sgooutside.Youcansuckonacancerstickandbringmeuptospeedaboutwhatcrawledupyourass.”Hestoodupandsnatchedmycigarettepackfrommydesk.
“No,thankyou.”IforgottothrowawaythecigaretteswhenIgotbackhometonight,buttheyweredefinitelynotonthemenuformeintheforeseeablefuture.
“Nothingyouwanttosaytome?”Hescannedmyfaceagain,hisjawtense,hiseyesdarkandferal.
“No.”Ireopenedthebook,thistimeintherightdirection.
“DoyouwantmetocomewithyoutotheOB-GYN?”
Mypulsejumped,hammeringagainstmythroat.
“Niceofyoutooffermonthslater,buttheanswerisstillno.CanIbeleftalone,please?IthinkIoutdidmydutyasatrophywifeandawarmholeatnightthisweek.”
Henarrowedhiseyes,takingastepback.Mywordshurthim—themanwhowassteelandmetal.Heturnedaroundanddashedawaybeforeweexplodedononeanother.
Ifelltomypillowandcriedassoonasthedoorshutbehindhim,makingupmymind.
Tomorrow,Iwasgoingtoopentheboxandretrievetheverylastnote.
TheonethatwoulddetermineifWolfereallywastheloveofmylife.IHELDTHENOTECLOSE
tomychestasImademywayoutofthecafeteria,blazingrightontothelush,wetgrassattheentrance.Thefirstrainofautumnknockedsoftlyonmyface,makingmeblinkastheworldshiftedinandoutoffocus.
Thefirstrainoftheseason.Asign
Mostcitieswerethemostromanticduringspringtime,butChicagothrivedinthefall.Whentheleaveswereorangeandyellowandtheskyasgrayasmyhusband’seyes.Thenotewaswetbetweenmyfingers.Itwasprobablyruined,butIstillclutcheditwithadeathgrip.Istoodinthemiddleoftheturfoverlookingtheroad,undertheopensky,andletthedropspoundovermyfaceandbody.
Comerescueme,Wolfe.
Iprayed,evendespitemybitterknowledgeandeverythingKristenhadtoldme,thathewouldfulfillthelastnoteandbemyknightinshiningarmor.
Theloveofyourlifewillshelteryoufromthestorm.
Iinwardlybegged,andpleaded,andsobbed.
Please,please,please
shelterme.
Iwantedapromisethathewouldnotdiscardmeafterhewasdonewithmyfather.
Thatdespitehatingmyfamily—andforgoodreason—heloved
me.
Thismorning,afterIreadthelastnote,Ituckeditinmybra,justlikeIdidthenightofthemasquerade.Smithydrovemetoschool.Onourwaythere,rainstarteddancingacrossthewindshield.
“Goddammit,”Smithymumbled,flickingthewiperson.
“Don’tpickmeuptoday.”ItwasthefirstandlastorderIgaveSmithy.
“Huh?”Hepoppedhisgum,distracted.MyEPAsshiftedintheirseats,exchanginglooks.
“Wolfeisgoingtopickmeup.”
“He’llbeinSpringfield.”
“Changeofplan.He’sstayingintown.”
Iwasonlyhalf-lying.IfWolfewastheloveofmylife,hewouldbehere.
ButnowIwasstandingintherainwithnoonetoturnto.
“Francesca!Whatthehell!”Iheardavoicebehindme.Iturnedaround.Angelowasstandingonthestairsofthefrontentrance,shieldedbyanumbrella,squintingatme.Iwantedtoshakemyhead,butIdidn’twanttointerferewithfateanymore.
Please,Angelo.No.Don’tcomehere
“It’sraining!”heyelled.
“Iknow.”Istaredatthecarswhizzingby,waitingformyhusbandtosomehowshowup,outoftheblue,andtellmethathewantedtogivemearide.Waitingforhimtocomeandwhiskmeaway.Prayinghewouldshieldme,notonlyfromthestormoutside,buttheoneinsideme,too.
“Goddess,comehere.”
Droppingmyhead,Itriedtoswallowtheballoftearsinmythroat.
“Francesca,it’spouring.Whatthefuck?”
IheardAngelo’sfeetslappingtheconcretestairsashemadehiswayacrossthelawn,wantingtostophim,butknowingthatI’dalreadymessedwithmydestinytoomuch.OpeningthenoteswhenIshouldn’thave.FeelingthingsIshouldn’tfeelforsomeonewhowasonlyaftermyfamily’smisery.
IfeltAngelo’sembracefrombehindme.Itwasallwrongandright.Comfortinganddistressing.Beautifulandugly.Andmybrainkeptscreaming,no,no,no.
Hetwistedmearound.Iwasshiveringinhisarms,andhejerkedmeclose,huggingmebeforebringingmetoshelterwithinhischest.Hesomehowknewthatmyneedforhumanwarmthwasstrongerthantheneedforaroofovermyhead.
Hecuppedmycheeks,andIrelentedtohistouch,knowing,withoutashadowofadoubtnow,thatWolfehadreadthesecondnote,aboutthechocolate,shortlyafterImovedintohishouse.Andthathewasalsoprivytothefirstnote,asI’dtoldhim,andruineditforme,too.
Thosenotesdidn’tcount.
Theynevercounted.
Thiswastrue.Thiswasreal.Angeloandme,undertheopenskythatwascryingforallthetimeI’dspenttryingtomakemyhusbandfallinlovewithme.
Angelo.
MaybeitwasalwaysAngelo.
“I’mpregnant,”Iyelpedintohischest.“AndIwantadivorce,”Iadded,notentirelysurethatitwasreallywhatIwanted.
Heshookhishead,bringinghislipstomyforehead.“I’llbethereforyou.Nomatterwhat.”
“Yourfatherhatesme,”Imoaned,thepaininsidemecuttingdeep.
Hesavedme.
Angelosavedme.
Shelteredmefromthestorm.
“Whocaresaboutmyfather?I
loveyou.”Henuzzledhisnoseagainstmine.“I’velovedyousincethedayyousmiledatme—allbraces—andIstillwantedtokissyou.”
“Angelo…”
“You’renotatoy,Francesca.You’renotmyleverage,ormypawn,ormyarmcandy.You’rethegirlfromtheriver.Thekidwhosmiledatmewithcolorfulbraces.JustbecauseyourstoryhadafewchapterswhereIwasn’tthemainleaddoesn’tmakemeanylesstheloveofyourlife.Andyou’remine.Thisisit.Thisisus.”
Hislipscrushedonmine,softandfirm.SodeterminedIwantedtocrywithbothreliefandheartbreak.Angelowaskissingmeinfrontoftheentireschool.WithWolfe’sringsonmyfinger.Bothengagementandweddingband.Iknew,withoutevenlooking,thatpeopletookouttheirphonesandrecordedtheentirething.Iknew,withoutadoubt,thatmylifehadtakenthesharpestturnofall.YetIgaveintoAngelo,knowingsomehowthatitneededtohappen.
Iwascheatingonmyhusband.
Whowantedtoruinmyfamily.
Whodidn’twantourbaby.
Whokeptsecretsfromme.
Iwascheatingonmyhusband.
Whoofferedmeeverythingheownedbuthisheart.
Whokissedmesoft.
Andfoughtmehard.
Iwascheatingonmyhusband.
Aftermyfatherkilledhisfamily.
Andtherewasnogoingback.
Ourlipsdisconnected,andAngelotookmyhandinhis,tuggingmebacktowardtheschool.
“Whateveritis,we’llmakeit.Youknowthat,right?”
“Iknowthat.”
IturnedmyheadaroundonelasttimetoseeiftherewassomethingI’dmissed,andsureenough,therewas.
WhileWolfewasn’tthere,Kristensurewas,tuckedinsideaparkedcar,recordingthewholething.
Icheatedonmyhusband,WolfeKeaton.
Theend.
She’sbeenfuckinghimthewholetime.
They’reinahotelinBuffaloGrovenow,FYI.Mightwannamakesureshetakesashowerbeforeyoudipintoittonight.
Ihopeyouknowwhatitlooksliketothemedia,SenatorKeaton.You’reofficiallythejokeofthestate.
I’dreadKristen’stextmessagesuntilmyeyesnearlybled.Theywereaccompaniedbypictures.Orrather,evidence.EvidenceIcouldn’toverlooksinceTwitterandInstagramburstwiththesameimagesfromahundreddifferentanglesofmywife,Mrs.FrancescaKeaton,kissingherformerflameandfellowstudent,AngeloBandini,intherain.Itwaslikeafucked-upscenefromTheNotebook.
Thewayheheldher.Thewayshesubmittedtohim.Kissedhimback.Fiercely.
Icouldn’tungluemyeyesevenifIwantedto.And,quitefrankly,Ididn’twantto.
Thisiswhatyougetforputtingyourtrustinanotherhumanbeing,idiot.
InafuckingRossi,noless.
IignoredKristen’smessage,knowingdamnwellthatshewasnotattheschoolbychance.Shewantedmetoseethosepictures.WantedmetoknowthatFrancescahadanaffairwithAngelo.Throughoutourentiremarriage,he’dbeenathirdwheel.Athorninmyside.Now,finally,Francescamadeaproactivechoice.
Shekissedhiminfrontoftheworld
She.Chose.Him.
Ihadtohandittomyyoung,spitfirewife.Shealmostmanagedtocrackmecompletely.Itwasthatsweetpussyandsmartmouth.AlethalcombinationifIevermetone.Butthiswasthewake-upcallthatI’dneeded.
IleftthestoreIwasstandingin,makingmywayoutofitandtowardmycar,onmywayhome.I’dgivenupmydriverformywife.I’dgivenupalotformywife.
Whichremindedme—whereonearthwasfuckingSmithy?
“Hey.Hi.Hey,”SmithygreetedwhenIcalledhimasIgotintomycar.MyEPAswereatmyside.Protocoldictatedtheycouldn’tdriveforme.Shame.IwasabouttohurlallofusofftheMichiganAvenueBridge.
“Wherethefuckwereyouthisafternoon?”Idemanded.Byhiswayofanswering,Iknewhe’dalreadyseenthepicturesonTwitter.JesusChrist,whothehellhadn’tatthispoint?
“Shesaidyouweregoingtopickherup.Thatyoudidn’tflyouttoSpringfieldtoday.AndIdidn’tseeyourcarinthegarageinthemorning,soIfigureditwastrue.”
Itwas.Ihadtwomeetingsdowntowntoday.And,strangely,IwasgoingtosurpriseFrancescaatherschool.Iranlatebecausemysecondappointment—theoneinwhichIpurchasedaYamahaC-7GrandPianoformyunhappywife—ranlate.Itwassupposedtobeasurprise.Ofcourse,mylovelywifebeatmetoitthisround.
Myphonebuzzedinmyhand.Forasecond,Ithoughtit’dbeFrancesca,callingtotellmethatitwasn’twhatitlookedlike.IglancedatthecallerID.No.ItwasjustPrestonBishop,eagerforsomebloodsport.
Damnit,Francesca.
Isentthecalltovoicemail,alongwiththedozenothercallsfromBishop,White,andArthurRossi,whowereallkeentooffertheirtwopenniesaboutthesituation,nodoubt.I’dbeenhumiliatedbeyondmyworstnightmaresafterI’dsworntoneverbeputinthispositionagain.NotafterIgotdownonmykneestoRossi.
Theonlypersonwhodidnottryandreachme—otherthanmycheatingwife,ofcourse—wasSterling,whowasn’tconnectedtosocialmediaandwasn’tprivytowhatherdarlinggirlhaddone.
WhenIgothome,ItoldSterlingtoleaveforthenearesthotelandgavehertenminutestopackabagwhileIcalledanUberforher.Ididn’twanthertherewhenIfacedFrancesca.Shedidnotdeservetoseethatuglysideofme
“Forhowlong?”Sterlinggrinned,flingingdressesandstockingsintotheopensuitcaseonherbed.Asfarasshewasconcerned,everythingwasstilldandybetweenmeandmywife.Sheprobablythoughtwewereplanningafuck-festovereverysurfaceofthehouse.IglancedatmyRolex.
Two,maybethreeyears.
“Acoupleofdays.I’llcallyouwhenI’mdone.”
Whenevermylawfulwifetakesherheadoutofherass.
“Wonderful!Youhavefun,lovebirds.”
“Countonit.”
Callingherwhenshewaswithherloverinahotelroomwouldberedundant.Andhysterical.No.Isatonmywife’sbedtheremainderoftheafternoon,replayinglastnightinmyhead.AuntFlomyass.Shedidn’tgetherperiod.Shedidn’twantmydickinsideherbody,probablybecauseshewastoobusynurturinganaffairwithhercollegebuddy
Iwasconsumedbyguiltandself-hatredafterthenightI’dtakenherhere,onthisbed,thinkingthatshe’dspreadherlegstoAngelo.Butreally,myonlyerrorwaschronological.BecauseshemighthavebeenavirginwhenItookherthatfirsttime,butthatpublickissshehadsharedwithhim?Itwasasrealasours,ifnotmore.
Shecheatedonmewiththemanshe’dlovedsinceshewasindiapers.
AndIwastheidiotwhokeptontakingherafteralltheirdiscriminatingevidence.
TheBishop’swedding.
Theengagementparty.
Thekiss.
Nomore.
IheardthedoordownstairsopensomehoursafterIarrived.Mywifealwaystookoffhershoesandarrangedthemneatlybythedoorbeforetakingaglassofwaterfromthekitchenandgoingupstairs.Todaywasnodifferent.Withtheexceptionthatwhensheclimbedupthestairsandgotintoherbedroom,shefoundmesittingonherbed,holdingmyphoneinmyhand,thescreenlitandshowcasingherkissingAngelo.
Herglassslippedfrombetweenherfingers,hittingthefloor.Sheturnedaround,abouttorunaway.Istoodup.
“Iwouldn’tdothatifIwereyou,Nemesis.”Myvoicedrippediceandmenace.
Shestoppedinhertracks,herbacktome,hershoulderssagging,butherheadwasstillhigh.
“Dowhat?”sheasked.
“TurnyourbackonmewhenI’minmycurrentstate.”
“Andwhyisthat?Areyougoingtostabme?”Shetwistedonherheel,herazureeyesshimmeringwithunshedtears.Shewasbrave,butshewasemotional.Imistookallhertearsforweakness.Nomore.Francescawasdefinitelyinthehabitofgoingforwhatshewantedinlife.
Icockedmyheadtotheside.“WhymustyouRossisalwaysturntoviolence?ThereareplentyofthingsIcandotohurtyoubeyondbeliefwithoutlayingafingeronyourbeautifulbody.”
“Enlightenme.”
“IthinkIwill,Nemesis.Tonight,infact.”
Herthroatbobbed.Herfalsefa?adewascollapsinginchbyinchwitheachraggedbreathandshiver.Shescannedhersurroundings.Nothingwasdifferentabouttheroom.Otherthanmyinvisiblepride,shatteredonherfloor,withherfootmarksalloverit.
“WhereisMs.Sterling?”Hereyesslidtothewindow,thentothedoor.Shewantedtoescapeme.
Toolate,darling.
“Isentheronaminivacationforafewdaystofreshenup.Shedoesn’tneedtobehereforthis.”
“Forwhat?”
“ForwhenIbreakyoulikeyoubrokeme.Humiliateyouinthewayyouhumiliatedme.Punishyoutheexactsamewayyoupunishedme.”
“You’vereadthenotes.”Shepointedatthewoodenboxonhernightstand.Ismiled,slidingmyweddingbandfrommyfingerwithslowprecision,watchinghereyesdrinkinmymovement.Iplaceditbytheboxonhernightstand.
“WhyelsewouldIsendyouchocolatewhenIcouldn’tevenstandyourface?”
Thetruthfeltlikeashinmymouth.ButthetruthwasalsoaweaponI’dusedtowoundherlittlesoul.Icouldn’tbreathewithoutfeelingmychesttightening,andIwantedtosliceheropeninthesamewayshecutme.Bone-deep
“Well”—abittersmileflutteredacrossherface—“Isupposeyouknowwhatthelastnotesaid.”
“Ido.”
“Angeloshelteredmefromthestorm.”
Thismademegrabtheboxandslamitagainsttheoppositewall,notmanyinchesfromwhereshewas.Thelidbrokeoff,bothpiecesrollingonthefloor.Shecuppedhermouthbutstayedsilent
“Becausehekissedyouintherain?Areyoufuckingkiddingme?Ishelteredyou.”Istabbedafingertomychest,advancingtowardherandlosingtheremainderofmyself-control.Myangerwasaredcloudsurroundingbothofus,andIcouldhardlyseeherthroughitanymore.Igrabbedhershoulders,plasteringhertothewall,forcinghertolookatme.“IshelteredyoufromyourfatherandMikeBandiniandKristenRhys.Fromeveryassholewholookedatyouthewrongwaybecauseofyourageoryourlineageoryourlastname.Iputmyreputation,andcareer,andfuckingsanityonthelinetomakesurethatyouweresafe,andaccomplished,andhappy.Ibrokemyrules.Allofthem.Demolishedmyownresolutions—foryou.IgaveyoueverythingIcouldwithinreason,andyoushit
alloverit.”
Ipacedherroom,thewordsburningonthetipofmytongue,pleadingtobesaid.
Iwantadivorce.
ButIdidn’twantafuckingdivorce
Andthatwasaproblem.
ShelovedAngelo,muchtomydisdainandfury,butthatdidn’tchangewhatIfeltforher.Istilllongedforherwarmbodynexttomine.Hersweetmouthandquirkythoughtsandthatvegetablegardenshetalkedtoandpianosessions,stretchedoverlazyweekends,whereI’dreadthepaperswhilesheplayedamishmashofclassicsandTheCure.
Besides,wasn’tthatfarmorecruelthanlettinghergotoAngelo?Watchingasshestayedandwiltedhere,herheartblackeningandhardeningnexttomine?Shecouldfakeheraffectionforme,sure,butourdesire?Thatwasreal.Andconsensual.Wouldn’titbefarmoregruelingtohavehersuckmycockandcreammyfacewhileshepinedforanother?
Wasn’trevengeagoodenoughreasontokeepher?
“I’mgoingtotheBernard’sgalatonight,”Iannounced,kickingapartofthewoodenboxasideonmywaytohercloset.Ipickedoutascarlet,skin-tightdresssheparticularlyloved.
“Idon’trememberseeingitinourcalendar.”Sherubbedherfacetiredly,fleetinglyforgettingthatourcalendarnolongermeantshitbecauseourcharadewasformallyover.I’dhandheronething—shewasagoodactress.Iwasanidiotenoughtobuyintoit.
“Ioriginallyturneditdown.”
“Whatmadeyouchangeyourmind?”Shetookthebait.
“Isecuredmyselfadate.”
“Wolfe.”Shepushedherselfpastme,blockingmyway.Istopped.“Whatareyoutalkingabout,adate?”
“HernameisKarolinaIvanova.She’saRussianballerina.Fuckhot,anddamnresponsive
.”I’dusedthesamewordtodescribeFrancescawhenwefirststartedtoexploreeachother’sbodies.
Shethrewherheadback,growlinginfrustration.
“You’reacheaternowontopofeverythingelse.Nicetouch.”
“Notexactly.We’reobviouslyinanopenmarriage.”Iswipedthetouchscreenofmyphoneinherface.HerkisswithAngeloflashed,tauntingherback.“Rememberourverbalcontract,Nem?Yousaidbothofusneededtobeloyal.Well,thatshiphasfuckingsailed.”
It’ssomewhereintheAtlanticOcean,hittinganicebergthatwouldsplittheTitanicinhalf.
“Thanksforthememo.DoesthatmeanIcaninviteAngeloover?”Shesmiledsweetly.
Ididn’tknowwhathadmadehersuchabitchovernight.Ijustknewitwasn’twarrantedonmypart.
“Notifhewantstomakeitoutofherewithhisdickintact.”
“Explainthelogicbehindyourwords,SenatorKeaton.”
“Gladly,Mrs.Keaton:IplantofuckmywaythroughthebetterhalfofChicagountilI’vehadenoughofwhatithastoofferme.Then,andonlythen,andonly
ifbythetimeI’mdonefuckingeverythingthatbreathes,youandAngelowillbedonewithoneanother,I’dconsiderlettingyousuckmycockagain.We’llstartsmall.Acoupletimesaweek.Thentakeitfromthere.Thatis,if
I’llevergetboredfromthevariety,”Iadded.
“Andthedress?”Sheknottedherarmsoverherchest,pointingherchintothedarkbluenumber.
“WouldlookravishingonIvanova’stightlittlebod,”Iprovided.
“Walkoutthisdoortonight,Wolfe,andyouwon’thaveawifetoreturnto.”shestoodatthedoorwaynow,tallandproud.
Shetookadeepbreath.“Whateverhappenedthiseveningwillneedtobediscussedbetweenus.Butwewillneverhaveachancetodothatifyoudon’tstay.Ifyouleavetospendthenightwithanotherwoman,Iwillnotbeherecomemorning.”
Ismiledsardonically,leaningdown,ourmouthsnearlytouching.Herbreathhitched,andhereyesglazedover.Idraggedmylipsacrosshercheektoherear.
“Don’tletthedoorhityourassonyourwayout,Nemesis.”
Ishiveredundermycovers,hittingrefreshonallthelocalmediaTwitteraccounts,checkingtheirwebsitesforliveupdates.Itwasaboutasconstructivetomymentalstateaswatchingvideosofpuppiesdrowning,butIcouldn’thelpit.
Threehoursafterhe’dleftthehouse,myhusbandwasseenwithagorgeousbrunetteonhisarm.ShewaswearingmyfavoriteValentinodressandaproudsmile.
Screwyou,Wolfe.
Hereyeswerebiggerandblueranddeeper.TheysawandknewthingsIcouldhardlyevenimagine.Shewastallerandconsiderablymorebeautiful.Shepressedhercheektohisshoulder,smilingdreaminglyastheirphotowastaken,staringdirectlytothecamera.Flirtingwithit.Lovingitback.And,asmyhusbandlookeddownather,hiscoldmercuryeyesdarkeningwithlust,IknewwhatIhadtodoevenbeforeI’dreadthecaptionundertheirimage.
SenatorWolfeKeaton(30)andprimaballerinaKarolinaIvanova(28)wereseenspendingtimetogetheratalocalgala.Keaton,whowasmarriedtoFrancescaRossi(19)thissummer,iscurrentlyinthemidstofascandalafterhisyoungwifewasseenkissingachildhoodfriendonthegroundsofNorthwesternUniversityearlierthisafternoon.
Frantic,Icheckedformorepictures.Moreitems.Moretweetsaboutmyhusbandandhisladyfriend.Theentireworldsawthemtogethernow.Wewereofficiallyover.Onlyitwasnevermyintentiontohumiliatehim.Iunderstoodhowbaditlooked,butitwasjustonekiss.Amomentofweakness.
Notthatitmattered.
Itwasnolongeraboutme,andIknewit.
Wolfewasaloosecannon.Angryandvindictiveandfullofhate.AndIhadmybabytothinkabout.Ipackedupasuitcaseandcalledmymother,informingSmithyinatextmessagethatheneededtotakemebackhometoLittleItaly.
IsawhimtextingWolfefranticallyinthecarasIpushedmybagsoutthedoor,bravingthedrizzleandthechilly,autumnnight.
Bythewayhebangedhisheadagainsttheheadrest,hismessageswereleftunanswered.ISATONTHEEDGE
oftheking-sizedbedofthehotelroomandtookanothersipofwhiskey.Iwasn’thungover,simplybecauseIneverstoppeddrinkingthroughoutthenight.Iwasstillblissfullydrunk,thoughthedullheartachehadbeenreplacedwithapersistentheadachethatpressedagainstmyeyesandnose.
ThiswasthefirsttimeinadecadeI’ddrankmorethanthecustomarytwotumblersinoneevening.
ThemoanbehindmeremindedmethatIwasn’talone.Karolinastretchedalongthebedonayawn,allowingthesunraysdriftingthroughthetallFrenchwindowstocastanaturallightthatcomplementedthesoftcurvesofherface.
“Feelingbetter?”shemurmured,huggingthepillowtoherchest,hereyelidsstillheavywithsleep.Istoodupandsaunteredacrosstheroomtowardmyphoneandwalletonthedresser,stillfullydressed.AsIcheckedtheircontents—andherbag,tomakesureshedidn’tputarecorderinthereortookanypicturessheshouldn’thavebeentaking—Iponderedthequestion,whythehellcouldn’tIbringmyselftofuckKarolinalastnight?
Theopportunitywasthere,andshewaswillingtojumpintomybed.Icouldnot,however,getmyselftobewithher,thoughnotbecauseofmyfeelingstowardmywife,Godforbid,butsimplybecauseIlackedthebasicneedtowant
tofuckKarolina.
Aslovelyandgorgeousasshewas,andashappyasIwastospendthenightinherhotelroomandnotdragmyselfbackhome,Ihadnointerestintouchingher.
ThewomanIwantedtobeinsidewasmywife.Mywife,whocouldnot,forthelifeofher,getridofherfixationwithAngelofuckingBandini.
Ituckedmywalletandphoneintomypocketandlefttheroomwithoutsayinggoodbye.Itwasbetterthatway.Ms.Ivanovashouldn’tseekmeoutagain.Therewasn’tgoingtobeasecondtimetothis.Iwasnotatallopposedtoparadingmistressesonmyarmuntilmywifediedofjealousyandfury—atthispoint,Icaredverylittleaboutwhatit’ddotomyname—buttouchingthem,reallytouchingthem,wasnotinthecardsforme,apparently.
Nomatter.Francescawouldstillwarmupmynights.Shecouldn’tdenythisattraction,notwiththewayshehooveredmycockintohermoutheverymorningandchasedmyshafteverytimeIslammedintoherfrombehind.ShewantedthisasmuchasIdid.Shewasgoingtogetmoreofit,allright.SansthepartwhereIletmyguarddown.
Iarrivedatthehouseataroundteninthemorningandimmediatelywenttoherroom,butitwasempty.Iglancedatthegardenoutsideherwindow.Empty,too.Goingthrougheveryroominthehouse,Imentallycheckedalltheboxes.Kitchen?No.Masterbedroom?No.Pianoroom?No.IdialedSterling’snumber,barkingathertocomebackhome.Sheneededtohelpmelookformymissingbride,thoughthereweren’tmanyplacesshecouldgo.
Icheckedmyphoneagain.TwomessagesfromSmithy.
Smithy:Yourwifeaskedtogobackhome.
Smithy:She’stechnicallymyboss.Ihavetotakeher.I’msorry
Aftersummoningmyhousekeeper,Iwentupstairs,backtoFrancesca’sroom,tearingitapart.Nowthatshewasgone,Ineededtoseeformyselfifshemeantbusinessornot.Theclosetwasmissingallherfavoriteitems,andhertoothbrushandphotoalbumsandhorse-ridinggearweregone,too.Thewoodenbox,whichI’ddestroyedyesterday,wasnowheretobefound.
Shewasn’tgoingtocomebackanytimesoon.
Allthethingsshevaluedweremissing.
Sheleftjustasshesaidshewould.Ihadn’tgivenherenoughcredit.Figuredshewasgoingtobravethenightandtalktomethenextmorning.Itwas,afterall,understandablethatI’davengedherfiercekissonNorthwestern’slawn—followedbyhoursofherbeingMIAandinahotelwithAngelo—withthesametokenofhumiliation.Ofcourse,mywifewasanythingbutobedient.Insteadofsnapping,shegrewmoreofabackbone.
And,ofcourse,she’dactuallykissedAngelo.Ihadn’teventouchedKarolina,saveforusheringherintotheballroomonmyarm.
Iopenedeverydrawerandemptiedthemontothefloor,lookingforahinttoFrancesca’slong-terminfidelity.Kristenclaimedthatthishadbeengoingonforawhile,butIchosenottobelieveit.Thinkingclearernow,theevidencewasstackedinmywife’sfavor.ShewasavirginwhenI’dmether.AndasmuchasIadoredher,shewas—outsideofthebedroom,atleast—abitofaprude.Notonetoconductillicit,long-termaffairs.Francescaalsopointedoutthatshe’dbrokenthingsoffwithAngelo,andbythewayherphonewasAngelo-freeformany,manyweeks,Ihadnoreasonnottobelieveher.
Thisleftmetoconsiderthatthekisswasaone-off.Amomentofpassionandweakness.IfFrancescareallywasconductinganaffair,shewouldnotbecheatingonmesoopenly.No.Shewouldbemorecalculatedthanthat.
WhenIwasdoneemptyingthedrawers,Irippedoffherlinenandpillowcases.Somethingfelloutofoneofthepillows,rollingunderthebed.Icroucheddowntothefloortoretrieveit,examiningitinmyhand.
Apregnancytest.
Apositivepregnancytest.
Iploppedontheedgeofthebed,clutchingitinmyfist.Francescawaspregnant.We’donlyslepttogetherwithoutprotectioninLakeMichigan.
Francescawaspregnantwithmybaby.
JesusChrist.
Iheardthedoorpushingopendownstairs,andSterlinghummingtoherself.
“Lovebirds?Areyouaround?”Hervoiceechoedinthevastfoyer.Idroppedmyhead,tryingtokeepmyjawfromsnappingoutofmymouth,Iclencheditsohard.SterlingappearedatthedoorwaytoFrancesca’sroomacoupleminuteslater,scrunchinghernoseandlookingatthehavocI’dcaused.
“ItlookslikethisplacehasbeenraidedbytheFBI.”
No,butclose.
Iliftedthepositivepregnancytestinmyhand,stillsittingdownandstaringatthefloor.
“Didyouknowaboutthis?”
Inmyperiphery,Isawhereyeswidening,herthroatbobbingwithaswallow.Shelookedolderthanever.Likethesceneshe’dwalkedintohadagedher.
“Ihadafeeling,yes.”Shewalkedovertome,placingahandonmyshoulderandsittingdownbesideme.“Didyoureallyhavenoidea?Thegirldevelopedasweettoothovernight,clungontoyoueverytimeyouwalkedthroughthedoor,andhasbeenfrightenedtogototheOB-GYN.Sheknowsyoudon’twantanychildren,doesn’tshe?”
Ilookedoutthewindow,draggingmyhandacrossmyface.Shedid.Sheknew
“Isthatwhysheleft?”Sterlinggasped.“Pleasedon’ttellmethatyoukickedheroutbecauseyoufoundout…”
“No.”Icutintoherwords,standingupandpacingtheroomagain.AroomIwasbeginningtohateandloveattheverysametime.Itstillheldherscentandpersonality,buttoomanybadthingshadhappenedbetweenthesewalls.
“Francescacheatedonme.”
“Idon’tbelieveit.”Sterlingtiltedherchinhigh,lockingherjawtopreventitfromquivering.“She’sinlovewithyou.”
“ShekissedAngelo.”Theyprobablydidalotmoreinthehotelroom.
Ifeltlikeateenagerconfidinginhismotherforthefirsttimeaboutacrush.ItwasthefirsttimeI’dshowedvulnerabilitysincetheageofthirteen.Evenatmyparents’funeral,Ididn’tshedatear.
“Youhurther,”Sterlingwhispered,standingupandwalkingovertome.Shepressedherhandtomyarminamaternalgestureandsqueezed.“Youhurtherallthetime,andsheishighlyemotionalrightnow.Herhormonesarerunningwild.You’reunwillingtoadmityourfeelingsforher,notevenallowinghertobringherclothesintoyourroom,letalonetellherwhyshe’shere.Whyyoutookherfromherparentsandrippedheroutofherlife.”
“There’snothingtoadmit.I’mnotinlovewithher.”
“Really?”Shefoldedherarmsoverherchest.“Canyoulivewithouther?”
“Yes.”
“Thenwhydidn’tyouallthoseyearsbeforeshecamealong?”shewondered,athinwhiteeyebrowcurvinghighonherforehead.“Whydidyoumerelyexistuntilshewalkedintothishouse?”
“Ihaven’tchanged.”Ishookmyhead,runningmyfingersthroughmyhair.Figured.TheminuteIsaidanythingremotelyemotional,Sterlingwentfull-blownDawson’sCreek
onmyass.
“Inthatcase,stayhere,andgiveherthetimesheobviouslyneeds.Donottryandchaseheraround.”
“IsthisoneofthosetimesyoutellmenottodosomethingjusttoseemedoitandprovetomethatIcare?”Ibarelystoppedmyselffromrollingmyeyes.
Sheshrugged.
“Yes.”
“Thenpreparetobeunderwhelmed,Sterling.IfFrancescaiscarryingmychild,Iwillbethereforbothofthem,butIwillnotbegforforgiveness.”
“Good.”Sterlingpattedmyarm.“Becausefrankly,I’mnotsureshe’llgiveittoyou.”
ThreedayshadpassedsinceIpackedmybagsandleft.
Ididn’tleavemyroomatmyparents’house,noteventogotoschool,dreadingthemomentI’dcomefacetofacewithAngelo,nottomentionmyfather
WhenAngeloandIwenttoahoteltogether,itwasmainlytodowhatweneededtodoallthosemonthsagoandneverhadthechance—talkedaboutwhatwewereandweren’t.
Hetriedtopersuademetotakeoffandleave.
“Wecouldraisethebabytogether.I’vegotsavings.”
“Angelo,I’mnotgoingtomessupyourlifesoyoucansavemine.”
“You’renotmessingupanything.Wewillhavechildrenofourown.We’llcreatealifeforourselves.”
“IfIrunawaywithyou,bothWolfeandTheOutfitwilllookforus.Theywillfindus.AndwhileWolfemightbehappytodivorceanddiscardme,myfatherwouldneverletusliveitdown.”
“Icangetusfakepassports.”
“Angelo,Iwanttostay.”
Anditwastrue.Ineededtostayhere,despiteeverything,andperhapsevenbecause
ofeverything.Mymarriagewasasham,myfatherhaddisownedme,andmymotherdidn’tevenhaveasayaboutwhatchinawe’ddinewith,letalonetheabilitytohelpme.
AngelohadcalledseveraltimesandevenshowedupatmydooroncetoseehowIwasdoing,butClarashooedhimaway.MyfathertooktwobusinesstripsandstayedatMama’sPizzaforthemajorityofmyvisitsofar,whichsurprisednooneatall.
MamaandClaraweremynear-constantcompanions.Theyfedandbathedmeandtoldmethatmyhusbandwouldcometohissensesandseekmeout.
TheysaidthattheminutehelearnedIwaspregnant,hewoulddropeverythingandbegformyforgiveness.ButIknewWolfedidnotwanttobecomeafather.Andcomingforwardandtellinghimaboutthepregnancywouldmeancrawlingbacktohim.Ihadallowedhimtostomponmyprideonetoomanytimes.
Thistime,hewouldhavetocometome.
Nottogetakickoutofit—butbecauseIgenuinelyneededtoknowthathecared.
ThreedaysafterIleftWolfe’smansion,Claraopenedthedoortomyroomandannounced,“Youhaveavisitor,littleone.”
Ijumpedoutofbed,feelingwoozy,hopeful,andexcitedallatthesametime.Sohewashere,afterall.Andhewantedtotalk.Thatwasagoodsign,right?Unlesshewantedtoservemewithdivorcepapers.But,knowingWolfe,hewasthetypetosendsomeoneelseovertohandthemtome.Oncehetrulycutyououtofhislife,hewouldn’tbothermakingthetrip.ClarasawthelightflickingonbehindmyeyesasIrushedtowardthevanitymirror,slappingmycheekstomakemyselflooklivelierandflushed,thenapplyingagenerouslayeroflipgloss.Sheloweredherhead,fiddlingwithherthumbs.
“It’sMs.Sterling.”
“Oh.”Iblinked,tossingthelipglossasideandwipingmyhandsovermythighs.“Howniceofhertostopby.Thankyou,Clara.”
Inthesalon,Claraservedusteaandpandoro.Ms.Sterlingsatwithherbackstraight,herpinkyliftedintheairoverherteacup,andherlipspursedwithbarelyrestrainedfury.Istaredintomycupoftea,wishingshe’dbothtalkandneveropenhermouthatthesametime.WhatifshecametotellmeWolfeandIwereover?Shecertainlydidn’tlookpleased.
“Whyareyoulookingatmelikethat?”Ifinallyaskedherwhenitbecameapparentthatwecouldsitlikethisforlong,soundlessminutes.
“Becauseyou’reafool,andheisacompleteidiot.Together,youmaketheperfectcouple.Whichbegsthequestion—whyareyouhereandheisthere?”Sheslammedherteacuponthetable,causingthehotliquidtoswooshfromsidetoside.
“Well,theobviousanswerisbecausehehatesme.”Ipickedinvisiblelintfrommypajamapants.“Andthesecondaryoneisbecausehemarriedmesohecouldruinmyfatherandeverythinghecaresabout.”
“Ican’tsitandlistentothisnonsenseanylonger.Howcouldyoubesodense?”Shethrewherarmsintheair.
“Howdoyoumean?”
“Wolfeneverentertainedhimselfwiththeideaofmarriageandawife.Notuntilhesawyouforthefirsttime.Youwereneverinhisplan.Heneverspokeofyou.Barelyevenknewaboutyourexistenceuntilhesawyou.Whichleadsmetobelievethathisspontaneousdecisionhadlesstodoaboutyourfatherandmoretodowiththefactthathesimplywantedyouforhimselfandknewthatcourtingyouwasoutofthequestion.Sincehehadleverageonyourfather,hethoughtitwouldbeawin-winscenario.Butitwasn’t.”Sheshookherhead.“Youmadethingsharderforhim.Messier.Hecouldhavehadyourfatherlockedinprisonforlifeifitwasn’tforyou.Theminuteyousteppedintothepicture—hewantedsomethingofyourfather’s,andtheybothhadthingstobargain.Youdidn’thelpWolfe’splan.Yousabotagedit.”
“Wolfeisdoingthebesthecantoruinmyfather’sbusiness.”
“Butheisstilloutandabout,ishenot?Yourfathertriedtoassassinate
him,andWolfestillheldhisweddinginthishouse.Theboyhashaditbadforyoufromthemomenthesawyourface.”
Ididn’tknowwhetherIshouldlaughorcry.I’dseenMs.SterlinggoingtoextrememeasurestotryandpatchthingsupbetweenWolfeandme,butthiswasstretchingit,evenbyherstandards.
“Whatkindofleveragedoeshehaveonmyfather?”Ichangedthesubjectbeforemyeyesdecidedtospontaneouslyleakagain.
Ms.Sterlingraisedherteacuptohermouth,glancingatmefrombehindtherim.
Ididn’tthinkshe’dactuallyanswer,muchlessthatshewouldknowwhatwasgoingon,butshesurprisedmeonbothmatters.
“Yourfatherispayingoffthegovernor,PrestonBishop,andFelixWhite,themaninchargeofChicago’sPoliceDepartment,ahandsomemonthlyfeeinexchangefortheirsilenceandfullcooperation.Wolfe’sinvestigatorsfoundoutaboutthisnottoomanymonthsago.SinceSenatorKeatonwasalwaysinthehabitofplayingwithhisfood,hedecidedtotortureyourfatheralittlebeforeairinghisdirtylaundry.Haveyoueverwonderedwhyheneverhitahomerun?”
Imunchedonmylowerlip.MyfatherhadmurderedWolfe’sbrotherandthenhisadoptiveparents.HethentriedtoassassinatehimrightafterburningdownanentirepubjusttogetridofWolfe’sbriefcase.
YetWolfeneverstrikedback.
Anditwasn’tasifhewasincapableofruiningmyfather.
“I’mguessingtheanswerisme,”Isaid.Shewasrelentless.
Ms.Sterlingsmiled,leaningforward.Ithoughtshewasgoingtopatmythighassheoftendid,butno.Sheclutchedontomycheek,forcingmetolookintohereyes.
“Youtookahammerandbrokedownhiswalls,brickbybrick.Iwatchedastheycollapsed,howhescrambledtotryandrebuildthemeverytimeheleftyourroom.Yourlovestorywasnofairytale.Morelikeawitchtale.Wickedandrealandpainful.Iswoonedwhenhebegantoseekyououtinthehouse.WhenInoticedhewasspendinglesstimeinhisofficeandmoretimeinthegarden.Iwasthrilledwhenhegaveyougifts,tookyouplaces,andshowedyouoff,barelyabletocontainhisjoyeverytimeyouenteredhisvicinity.AndImustadmit,Iwasrelievedtoseehimbreakingdowninyourroom,devastatedandguilt-stricken,whenhefoundyourpregnancytestinyourpillowcase.”
Myheadrearedback,andIshotherahelplessglance.
“Howareyoufeeling,sweetheart?”Hereyescrinkledwithnakedjoy.
Heknew.Theybothknew.YetWolfestillhadn’tcomeforme.Contradicting,fierceemotionsofexcitement,dread,andfearstunnedmeintosilence.
“Francesca?”Ms.Sterlingprobed,nudgingmyhand.Iduckedmyheaddown,notdaringtoseewhatwasonherface
“Itdoesn’tmatter.Toomanythingshavehappened.Icheatedonhim,andhecheatedonme.”
“Loveisstrongerthanhate.”
“Howcanhelovemeafterallthebadbloodbetweenourfamilies?”Myheadshotup,tearsclingingtomylowerlashes.“Hecan’t.”
“Hecan,”Ms.Sterlinginsisted.“Forgivingisoneofhismorebeautifulvirtues.”
“Right.”Isnortedoutalaugh.“Tellthattomyfather.”
“Yourfatherneveraskedforforgiveness.ButIdid.AndWolfe?Heforgaveme.”
Sheputherteadownandstraightenedherspine,deliveringtheinformationwithaschooledchinandasteadyvoice.
“I’mWolfeKeaton’sbiologicalmother.Arecoveringalcoholicwhowastoobusydrinkingherselftodeathtofixmysondinneronthenighthewatchedhisbrother,Romeo,getshottodeathbyyourfather.Afterthathappened,theKeatonstookhim.Icouldn’tfightthesystem,andRomeo’sdeathshookmeoutofmyaddiction.Iwenttorehab,andafterIcompletedmytimeinthefacility,ItrickledbackintoWolfe’slife—hisrealnameisFabio,bytheway.FabioNucci.”Shesmiled,lookingdown.“Atfirst,hewantednothingtodowithme.Hewasblindwithangeraboutmyalcoholism,gettingthrownintothesystem,andabouthowIcouldn’tbringmyselftofixhimdinnersohedraggedhisbrothertoMama’sPizza.Butastimepassed,heallowedmebackintohislife.Hisadoptiveparentshiredmeashislive-innannyeventhoughhewasapre-teen.Theyjustwantedustobetogether.Aftertheywerekilledinthatexplosion…”Shesuckedinabreath.Tearsglitteredinhereyeswhenshespokeofherlateemployers.“ItwastwoyearsafterIcompletedmyworkattheKeatons.WhenWolfeturnedeighteen.IwasworkingatSam’sClubwhenherehiredmetorunhismansion.HeistakingcareofmemorethanI’mtakingcareofhimafterIbetrayedhimintheworstpossibleway.Iwasn’tabletoprotecthimandhisbrotherfromthecruelneighborhoodtheygrewupin.”
Isatback,digesting.
Ms.SterlingwasWolfe’smother.Biological
mother.
Thatwaswhyshelovedhimsodearly
Thatwaswhyshebeggedmetobepatientwithhim.
Thatwaswhyshedroveusintoeachother’sarms.Shewantedhersontohavethehappyendinghisbrothernevergot.
“Hisbrotherwasmarried.”Isuckedinabreath,collectingallthepieces,fittingthemintothescrewed-uppuzzlemyfatherhadcreated.“Hehadawife.”
“Yes.Lori.Theywerehavingfertilityissues.”Ms.Sterlingnodded.“WentthroughseveralIVFtreatments.Thenshefinallygotpregnant.Shelostthebabywhenshewassixmonthsin,thedayaftertheydeliveredthenewsthatherhusbandhaddied.”
ThatwaswhyWolfedidn’twantanychildren.
Itwasalsowhyheknewsomuchaboutovulationandwhentohavesex.Hedidn’twanttheheartache,thoughheartachewasallheknew.He’dlostthepeoplehecaredaboutthemost,onebyone,andallbythesameman.Itfeltlikesomeonerippedmychestopenwithaknifeandwatchedasmyorganspouredoutofme.
Iplasteredahandovermymouth,willingmypulsetoslowdown.Itwasneithergoodformenorforthebaby.Butthetruthwasscandalizingandtooharshtodigest.ThatwaswhyWolfedidn’twantmetoknow—heknewI’dhatemyselffortherestofmylifeforwhatmyfatherdid.Hell,Iwantedtothrowuprightnow.
“Thankyouforsharingthiswithme,”Isaid.
Ms.Sterlingnodded.“Givehimachance.Heisfarfromperfect.Butwhois?”
“Ms.Sterling…”Ihesitated,glancingaroundus.“I’mdevastatedoveryourrevelations,butIdon’tthinkWolfewantsasecondchance.HeknowsthatI’mhereandthatI’mpregnant,andhestillhasn’tshowedup.Hehasn’tevencalled.”
EverytimeIthoughtaboutthisfact,Iwantedtocrawlintoaballanddie
BythewayMs.Sterlingwinced,Iknewthatitdidn’tlookgoodforme.Iescortedherbacktohercar.Wehuggedforlongminutes.
“Alwaysremember,Francesca—you’reworthmorethanthesumsofyourmistakes.”
Asshedroveaway,Irealizedshewasright.Ididn’tneedWolfetosaveme,orforAngelotocometomyrescue,orevenformymothertogrowabackboneormyfathertostartactinglikehehadone.
TheonlypersonIneededwasme.THENEXTFEWDAYSWERE
pure,unadulteratedtorture.
Thestuffweshouldbottleup,writedown,anduseonconvictedchildmolesters.
Threedaysin,IcavedandpickedupthephonetocallArthur.Nowhe
wasplayinghardtoget.Thetableshadturned.TheonlypersonIwantedtospeakto—mywife—wastuckedinArthur’skingdom,andtheplacewasgatedandguardedmoreheavilythantheBuckinghamPalace.
Iarrivedatmywife’sparents’houseeverysingleday,atsixo’clocksharp,beforeboardingmyflight,thenagainateighto’clockatnight,totryandtalktoher.
IwasalwaysstoppedatthegatebyoneofRossi’smuscle,andtheywerebeefierandstupiderthanhisusualvarietyofMadeMen,andshowednosignsofstopping,evenwhenmyownbodyguardsflexedtheirbiceps.
Calling,ortextingherwasball-lessandinappropriatealtogether.EspeciallysinceSterlingadmittedtospillingthebeansaboutallthethingsthathappenedbetweenourfamilies.ConsideringFrancescawasundertheimpressionthatmyoriginalplanconsistedoftossingherinadarktowerandkillingherfatherslowlybystrippinghimandhiswifeofeverythingtheyowned,IknewIneededalittlemorethanafucking“Sorry”GIF.Theconversationwastooimportantnottobeconductedfacetoface.TherewasmuchIneededtotellher.MuchI’dfoundoutinthedayssinceshedeparted.
Iwasinlovewithher.
Iwasdreadfullyinlovewithher.
Ruthlessly,tragicallymadabouttheteenagerwithbigblueeyeswhotalkedtohervegetables.
IneededtotellherthatIwantedthisbabynolessthanshedid.NotbecauseIwantedchildren,butbecauseIwantedeverythingshehadtooffer.Andthethingsshedidn’toffer—Iwantedthem,too.Nottoownnecessarily,buttosimplyadmire.
TherealizationthatIwasinlovedidn’thappeninoneglorious,Hallmark-worthymoment.Itspreadacrosstheweekwespentapart.Witheveryfailedattempttoreachouttoher,Irealizedhowimportantitwasformetoseeher.
EachtimeIgotturneddown,Ilookedupatthewindowofherroom,willinghertomaterializebehindthewhite-lacedcurtain.Sheneverdid.
AndthatwaswhyIavoidedconnections,ingeneral.Thatwholeclimbing-the-wallsthing?Itwasn’tforme.Butclimbing,Idid.Kickingthings.Breakingthings.RehearsingwordsandspeechesIwouldsay.Avoidingsuitswhocalledandcalled,tellingmethatIneededtomakeastatementaboutmycurrentfamilysituation.
Itwasmyissue.Mylife.Mywife.
Nooneelsemattered.
Notevenmycountry.
Aweekintothedelightcalledheartbreak,Idecidedtobendtherulesandrushfate.Shewasgoingtohatemeforit—butfrankly,shehadenoughreasontowanttospitinmyfaceevenbeforemynextstunt.
Ontheseventhdayofseparation,IdraggedFelixWhiteinallhissweaty,shiny-facedglorytoaccompanymetoArthur’shouse,carryinganurgentsearchwarrant.
Thethingmissing?Myfuckingwife.
Whitehadnorealgroundstoissueawarrant,otherthanhedidn’twantmetodishoutthedirtonhim.Foreverthedoubleagent,hetextedArthurhoursbefore,sothemobsteractuallydraggedhimselfbackhometobetherewhenIcameover.
Anyway,thatwasthestoryofhowIcameknockingonFrancesca’sdoorwiththechiefofCPD,awarrant,andtwocops.
Andtheysaidromancewasdead.
WhenRossiopenedthedoor,hisforeheadwassocreased,helookedlikeabulldog.Heslidhisheadbetweenthecrackeddoorsandtaperedhiseyesintoslits.
“Senator,towhatdoIowethepleasure?”HecompletelydisregardedWhite,knowingdamnwellwhythelettercompromisedhim.
“Now’snotthetimetoplaygames.”Ismiledcoolly.“Unlessyoureallywanttolose.Letmeinorsendherout.Eitherway,I’mseeinghertonight.”
“Idon’tthinkso.NotafteryouparadedthatRussianwhoreinfrontoftheentirecity,leavingyourpregnantwifeathome.”
“Ididn’tknow.”WhyIwasexplainingmyselftohimwasbeyondme.Ifhewasthemoralpolice,MichaelMoorewasagoddamnhealthguru.
“Atanyrate,I’vebeentryingtoreachherforsevendays,andIhaveitongoodauthoritythatyouwanttoopenupbeforeIdosomethingyou’llregret.”
“Youwillneverdoit.Notwithyourpregnantwifeinthepicture.”Arthurhadtheaudacitytoflashmeatauntinggrin.
Whitecoughedfrombesideme.
“Mr.Rossi,ifyoudon’tletusin,I’llhavetoarrestyou.Ihaveacourtordertosearchyourhouse.”
ItwasapparentthatonepersononthethresholdbelievedI’dthrowmyfather-in-lawtothewolves.
Slowly,Arthurpushedthedooropenandallowedmetowalkin.Whiteremainedbehindme,shiftinghisweightfromfoottofootlikeateenagerwonderinghowtoaskagirlforapromdate.Themanpossessedthecharismaofacanofsoda.
“S-shouldIwaithere?”Whitestuttered.Iwavedhimoff.
“Gobacktopretendingyou’regoodatwhatyou’redoing.”
“Yousure?”Hewipedthesweatoffhisforehead,theblueveininhisneckstillpulsing.
“You’rewastingmyprecioustimeandwhat’sleftoversofmypatience.Go.”
Arthurledmetohisoffice,givingmehisback.LasttimeI’dbeeninhisoffice,Idemandedhisdaughter’shand.AsIwalkedupthestaircase,thememoriesfloodedin.Itwasonthelandingwherewesharedoneofourearlierbanters.Atthetopofthestairs,IrecalledhowIclaspedherdelicatewristinmyhandandtuggedherdownforcefullyafterIthoughtshe’dcheatedonme.
Fuckingidiot.GoingaroundlabellingWhiteandBishopasstupidwhenyou’veproventobeaclownmorethanonetimeinthespanofyourshortmarriage.
IknewFrancescawassomewhereinthehouse,andIlongedtoseeherpinksmileandhearherthroatylaughterthatdidnotmatchthesoftnessofherbeing.
“Givemeonegoodreasonwhywe’reheadingintoyourofficeandnotintomywife’soldroom,”Isaidwhenmymouthclearedfromthefogofeverythingmywife.
“Despiteourdifferences,mydaughtercaresverymuchformyapproval,andmygivingittoyouwouldhelpyourchanceswhenyoutalktoher.Now,SenatorKeaton,webothknowit’slongoverduethatwesettlethescore.”Hestoppedbythedoortohisofficeandmotionedformetowalkin.Twoofhismuscleguysstoodoneachsideofthedoor.
“Getridofthem,”Isaid,stillstaringathim.Hedidn’tbreakourgazeashesnappedhisfingers,makingbothofthemdescendthestairssilently.
Wegotintohisoffice,andheclosedthedoorhalfway,obviouslynottrustingmenottothrottlehimwithmybarehands.Iunderstoodhimperfectly.EvenIhaddifficultypredictinghowI’dreact,dependingontheoutcomeofthisvisit.
HeleanedagainsthisdeskwhileItookaseatonthecouchinfrontofhim,spreadingmyarmsovertheheadrestandmakingmyselfcomfortable.Iknewtwothingswithcertainty:
Todaywasthedaymyloveformywifewasgoingtobetested.
Iwasgoingtopasswithflyingfuckingcolors.
Likeamothtoaflame,myfeetdraggedmeoutofmyroomandtothehallwaytheminuteIheardmyhusband’sgrufftenor.Hisvoicewasapoem,andIdrankeverywordasifmylifedependedonit.
Icaughthisback,hisbroadshouldersandtailoredsuitasheglidedthroughthecorridor,usheredbymyfatherintohisstudy.Icountedone,two,three,five,eight…ten
secondsbeforeItiptoedmywaytothestudy.WeeksofwatchinghowMs.Sterlingeavesdroppedhadtaughtmesomeinvaluabletricks.Mybarefootedfigurewaspressedagainstthewall,andItookshallow,measuredbreaths.
Myfatherlitacigar.Thearomaofburntleavesandtobaccohitmynostrils,andnauseawashedovermygut.God,Ifeltsickeverytimesomeonebreathedinmydirection.Ipeekedintotheroom,fightingthebilebubblinginmythroat.Myfatherleanedagainsthisdesk,myhusbandontheredvelvetsetteeinfrontofhim,lookingrelaxedandnonchalantasever.
Myhusband,metalandsteel.
Formidableanduntouchable.
Withastone-carvedheartI’ddoanythingtosoften.
“Isupposeyouthinkthatyoucanwalkintoherroomandclaimherback.HangWhiteandBishopovermyheadagainasleverage,”myfathersaid,puffingonhiscigar,hislegscrossedattheankles.HehadyettoacknowledgemyexistencesinceI’dmovedbackintothehouse,buthedidn’tletthatdeterhimfromblackmailingmyhusband.Witheveryfiberofmybody,Iwantedtoburstthroughthedoorandsettherecordstraight.ButIwastoohumiliatedandhurttoriskanotherrejection.Wolfemight’vecomeheretoletmego,andIwasdonebegging.
“Howisshedoing?”Wolfeignoredhisquestion.
“Shedoesn’twanttoseeyou,”myfatherrepliedcurtly,sendinganotherwaftofsmokeintotheairandignoringthequestionathand.
“Haveyoutakenhertothedoctor?”
“Shehasn’tleftthehouse.”
“Whatthehellareyouwaitingfor?”Wolfespat.
“AsfarasIcanremember,Francescawasoldenoughtogetpregnant.SheisthereforeoldenoughtobookanappointmentwithanOB-GYN.Nottomention,ifanyoneshouldhelpher,itshouldbethemanresponsibleforherdiresituation.”
Diresituation?
Mynostrilsflared,hotaircomingdownfromthemlikefire.
Itwasthemomentinwhichitdawnedonmethatmyfatherwascompletelyirredeemable.Hedidn’tcareformeorthebaby.Theonlythinghecaredabout—ever—wasTheOutfit.HelovedandadoredmewhenIwashispuppet.Andatthefirstsignofdefiance,hediscardedmeandshookoffanyresponsibilitytowardme.Hesoldme.ThenlosthisinterestinmewhenhecouldnolongermarrymeofftoanotherstrongItalianfamily.Wolfe,however,stuckaroundthroughthickandthin.Evenwhenweantagonizedeachother.EvenwhenhethoughtI’dsleptwithAngeloandsawmekissinghim,andwhenIdefiedhimagainandagainandagain.Theworddivorceneverlefthismouth.Failurewasn’tanoption.
Heshowedmemoreloyaltythanmyfatherdid.
“Goodpoint.”Wolfestoodup.“I’lltakehertothedoctorrightaway.”
“Youwilldonosuchthing.Infact,youwillnotbeseeinghertonight,atall,”myfatherretorted.
Wolfestrolledtowardhimunflappably,stoppingafewfeetfrommyfatherandtoweringoverhishead.“Isthatherrequestoryours?”
“Herdemand
.Whydoyouthinkyouhaven’theardfromheryet?”Myfatherputhiscigarinanashtray,sendingaplumeofsmokeinWolfe’sfaceashespoke.“SherequestedImakesurethatyougrovelproperly.”
“Letmeguess—youhaveplentyofideas.”
“Ido.”Myfatherunknottedhisankles,pushingoffthedesksohewasnosetonosewithWolfe.IwishedIcouldseemyhusband’sfaceatthatmoment.Myfatherwaslyingtohim,andhewastoosmartnottoseethat.Thenagain,lovewaslikeadrug.Youdidn’tthinkclearlyundertheinfluence.
“I’llletyouseeFrancescaifyoucomply.”
“AndifIdon’t?”
“Whitecanpersonallycomeandarrestmetoday,andyoucanburstthroughFrancesca’sbedroomdoorarmedwithpoliceforce.I’msureshe’dappreciateit.Especiallyinhercurrentstate.”
Wolfewassilentforamoment.
“Doyourealizeshemissesyou?”heaskedmyfather.
Myheartclenchedpainfully.God,Wolfe.
“Doyou
realizethatI’mabusinessman?”myfatherretorted.“She’sadamagedasset.Weallhaveapricetag,FabioNucci.”Helaughedinmyhusband’sface.“Iwasbornonthestreetsandleftatthestepsofachurchdoortoalmostdie.Mymotherwasaprostitute,andmyfather?Whoknowswhohewas.EverythingIhave,everysquarefootinthishouse,everypieceoffurniture,everyfuckingpen,I’veworkedfor.Francescahadonejob—tobeobedient.Andshefailed.”
“BecauseIsetherupforfailure.”Wolferaisedhisvoice,spittinginmyfather’sface.
“Thatmaybe,butheronlyvaluetomerightnowistobeapawnagainstyou.Yousee,I’vemadethemistakeofundervaluingapersononceinmylife.WhenIdecidedtofoolishlyletyoulive.”
Somethingdroppedbetweenthem,anditthuddedagainstthesilenceoftheroom.Jesus.Heactuallysaidit.Myfatherregrettednotkillingmyhusband.
“Whydidn’tyou?”Wolfeseethed.“Whydidyouletmelive?”
“Youwerefrightened,Nucci,butyouwerealsostrong.Youdidn’tcry.Youdidn’tpissyourpants.Youeventriedtosnatchoneofmymen’sweapons.YouremindedmeofmyyoungselfwhenIranonthestreetsbarefoot,stealingfood,pickpocketing,andworkingmywayup.HustlingtothecoreandmakingtieswithTheOutfit.Iknewyouhadachancetosurvivethispartoftheneighborhood.Morethanthat—Iknewyouwereasavage.WolfeKeatonplaysnicewiththelaw,butlet’sadmitit—FabioNucciisinsideyou,andheisoutforblood.”
“Iwillneverbeyourally.”
“Good.Youmakeafascinatingenemy.”
“Whateveryouneedmetodo,getitoverwith,”Wolfebarked.
Myfatherleanedback,cluckinghistongueandtappingafistoverhislip.
“Ifyoutrulylovemydaughter,SenatorKeaton,ifyousincerelycareforher,youwillstripfromtheonethingyouneverpartwayswith—yourpride.”
“Whatareyouasking?”IcouldpracticallyenvisionWolfe’sjawasitlockedinanger.
“Begforher,son.Kneel.
”Papaliftedhischin,somehowlookingdownatWolfedespitemyhusbandbeingseveralinchestaller.“Beglikeyoumademebegforherwhenyoutookherfromme.”
Mydadbeggedforme?
“Idonotbeg,”Wolfesaid,andIknewhemeantit.Evenmyfatherknewbetterthantoaskforsomethinglikethis.HesetWolfeupforfailureanddoomedmymarriagebyaskingthat.Wolfeneverbowedtoanyone,muchlessmyownfather.IwasgoingtoburstinthedoorandsettherecordstraightwhenIheardPapaspeakagain.
“Thenyoudon’tlovemydaughter,SenatorKeaton.Youmerelywantyourpossessionback.BecauseasfarasIrecall,shedidalotofbeggingandgrovelingwhenyoutookherfromthishouseasyourprisoner.”
Ibitdownonmylip,restingmyforeheadagainstthedoorframe.IthurtmetoseeWolfehurting,butitpainedmeevenmorethatIunderstoodwhyhecouldn’tdoit.Whyhecouldn’tbegthemanwhohadruinedhislife.Itwasn’tjustabouthisprideanddignity.Itwasalsoabouthismoralsandeverythinghestoodfor.Abouthisfamily.
Myfatherhadstrippedhimfromhisprideonceinfrontofhisbrother.Hewasnotgoingtodoitagain.
“You’renotdoingthisbecauseofher;you’redoingthisbecauseofyou
,”Wolfeaccused,point-blank.Mydadbracedtheedgesofhisdeskbehindhimashestaredattheceiling,contemplatingthis.
“WhyI’mdoingthisshouldn’tmattertoyou.Ifyouwanther,youwillstopatnothing,muchlessthefloor.”
Tearsprickledmyeyesonceagain.Myfatherwashumiliatinghim,andasmuchasIwantedtostepinsideandorderthembothtostopthis,Icouldn’t.Becausemyfatherwasn’twrongaboutonething—Wolfealwaysheldthepowerinmyrelationshipwithhim,andifhecouldn’tletgo,evenonce,wasthisreallyamarriage,orwasitacaptiveandmaster,glorifiedundertheflatteringlightoflust?
Slowly,IwatchedtomyuttershockasWolfebegantolowerhimselfdowntohisknees.Ichokedonmybreath,unabletotearmyeyesfromthesceneunfoldinginfrontofme.Myhusband,theproud,take-no-bullshit,arrogantbastardwaskneeling,beggingforme.What’smore,hedidn’tlookaninchlesssuperiorthanhedidwalkingintothisroom.Hetiltedhisfaceup,allowingmeananglefromwhichIcouldseehimclearly.Hewasthepictureofconceited,hisregalfeaturessharpandopen.Hiseyesweredetermined,hiseyebrowsarchedinmockery,andhisentirecomposurewasunimpeachable.Basedontheirfacesalone,youcouldn’ttellwhichoneofthemwasbowingdowntotheother.
“Arthur,”hisvoiceboomedintheroom,“Ibegyou,pleaseletmetalktoyourdaughter.Mywifeis,andalwayswillbe,themostimportantthinginmylife.”
Myheartburstinmychestathiswords,andIquivered,feelingtheheatofathousandsunswarmingmefromtheinside.
“Youwillnevermakeherhappyforaslongasyouhangmy
sinsoverher
head,”myfatherwarned.Myhusbandwasstillonhisknees,andIcouldn’tstopthetearsanymore.Theyrusheddownintheformofasob.Islappedahandovermymouth,afraidthey’dhearme
Wolfesmirked,hiseyesflashingwithdetermination.
“Idonotintendtodothatanymore,Arthur.”
“Doesthatmeanyouwillstopmessingwithmybusiness?”
“ThatmeansIwillmakeanefforttoplayniceforher
.”
“WhataboutWhiteandBishop?”myfatherasked.
“I’lldowhateverIseefitwiththem.”
“IcantakeFrancescaawa—”
“No,youcan’t,”Wolfeinterfered,cuttinghimsharply.“TheonlypersonwhoisinapositiontotakeFrancescaawayfrommeisFrancescaherself.It’sherchoicewhoshewantstobewith—notmine.Definitelynotyours.You’vekilledmybrother,thenmyparents.MywifeiswhereIdrawtheline.Youcannottakeher.Iwillunleashhellifyoudo.”
Iclosedmyeyes,feelingmybodyswayingfromsidetoside.Ihadn’teatenallday,andthescentofthecigarmademewanttothrowup.
“Gotoher,”myfathersaidbrokenly.
Myhusbandgotuponhisfeet.
Then,forthesecondtimeinmylife,Iswooned.IWOKEUPCOCOONEDIN
myhusband’sarms.
Hesatontheking-sizedbed,myheadrestingonhimintheexactsamepositionwewerecurledinwhenwewereinthebarn,whenheshowedmeArtemis.Hisspicycologneanddistinctivemalescentengulfedmeincomfort,andIpretendedtobeasleepalittlelonger,prolongingtheuncomfortableconversationthatwaitedattheendofmyslumber.
Hedraggedthetipofhisfingersovermybackthroughmyshirt,pressingakisstomyhairline.Ivisitedthememoryofhimkneelinginfrontofmyfather,tellinghimthatIwasthemostimportantthingtohim.Warmhoneycoatedmyheart.
“Iknowyou’reawake,”Iheardmyhusbandmurmurtomytemple.Igroaned,shiftinginhisarms.ThethoughtthatthesearmswerewrappedaroundKarolinaIvanovaaweekagomademewanttothrowupalloveragain.Iproppedmyselfonmyforearms,shootinghimatiredlook.
“You’repregnant.”Helookeddownatmystomachasifhewasexpectingtoseeabump.SeeinghisfaceagainwasthegreatestgiftI’deverbeengiven.ItwasabsurdtothinkIdreadedsaidfacethemorningafterthemasquerade.Shortlyafter,hebecamemyfavoritethingaboutmyself.Ibecamehisreminderthattherewassomethingmorethanvengeanceandjusticeinthisworld.Wewereco-dependent,andwehadtoco-exist.Onewithouttheotherwasadormantbeing.
Tobealiveandnotreallylivingwasaterriblecurse.
“It’syours.”Iputmyhandonhisforemphasis.
“Iknow.”Heranthetipofhisnosealongmine,gatheringmeinhisarmsasthoughIwassomethinggreatandpreciousandhuggingmeclose.
“Doesthatmakeyouunhappy?”Isniffed.
“Becomingafather?Ialwaysthoughtitwould.Iwassurelifeendedwhenparenthoodbegan.ButthatwasbeforeIfoundsomeoneworthytostartafamilywith.I’mstillnotentirelysureaboutmyabilitieswhenitcomestoparenthood.Luckily,Iknowmywifewillbethebestmotherthisplanethastooffer.”
Silently,myeyesrakedtheroom.TherewassomuchIwantedtosay,butIknewthatitcouldbreaksomethingthatwasnotyetevenglued.
“Whataboutyou,Nem?Areyouhappybeingpregnant?”
Istraightened,swallowingmyfearandlettingthewordsripfrommythroatbeforeIlostmycourage.
“I’m…unsure.We’reconstantlyfighting.Wesetaworldrecordinmiscommunications.Andyoujustsleptwithsomeoneelseaweekagotogetbackatme—andnotforthefirsttime.IkissedAngelolastweek,furiouswiththetruthaboutyouandmyfather,butIdidn’ttakeitanyfurther.We’revolatileandunfaithful.Wedon’tliveinthesamewing…”
“Wewill,”hecutmeoff.“Ifthat’swhatyouwant.”
“Weneedsometimetothink.”
Ineededsometimeapartfromhim.NotbecauseIdidn’tlovehim,butbecauseIlovedhimtoomuchtomakeaconscious,healthydecisionforourbaby.
“There’snothingtothinkabout.Ididn’tsleepwithKarolina.Icouldn’tdoit.Iwantedto—God,Nemesis,Iwantedtofuckyououtofmylifeforgood—buttherecouldneverbeanyoneelse.ItisyouthatIlove.ItisyouwhomIwant.ItisyouwhommakeslivingaspectacularthingIwanttoexperience,ratherthanparticipateinreluctantly,everyday.”
Ifeltthetearsslidingdownmycheeks,fatandsalty.Weweresogoodathurtingeachother.Thishadtostop.
“Ikissedanother,”Iwhispered.“Icheatedonyou.”
“Iforgiveyou.”Hecuppedmycheeksinhisbighands.“Forgiveyourself,andlet’smoveon.Comebackhome,Nem.”
“Nothinghappenedinthathotelroom.”
“Idon’tgiveafuck
whathappenedbetweenthenandthere.Ibelieveyou,butitmakesnodifference.Iwanttostartthisover.Therightway.”
“Ineedtime.”Thewordsbrokeme.Maybebecausetheywerebrutallyhonest.
Ineededtimetodigesteverythingthatwashappening.Tomakesurethiswasnotjustanothergrandgesturehewasgoingtoofferandforgetaboutthenextmorning.Wefellinlovefastandslow.Hardandsoft.Witheverythingwehadinus,yetwebothrefusedtogiveanythingaway.Wedidn’thavetimetodigestwhatwashappening.Weclashedintoeachother’sliveswithourwallsstillup.Weneededtostartover.Weneededtoflirt.Weneededtodistributethepowerbetweenus,thistimemoreequally.Weneededtolearntofightwithoutwoundingeachother.Withoutrunningintootherpeople’sarms.Withoutdraggingandtossingeachotherintoroomslikewildbeasts.
“Itshouldbemychoicetobewithyou.Youunderstandthat,right?”
Wolfenodded,standingupbeforehechangedhismind.Icouldtellittookatremendouseffortforhimnottodemandfrommewhatheusedtothinkhedeserved.Hemadehiswaytothedoor,andIwantedtotakethewordsbackandgowithhim.ButIcouldn’t.Ihadtobebetterforthepersoninsideme.
ApersonIwasgoingtobeabletosave,likemymothercouldn’t.
Wolfestoppedatthethreshold,hisbackstilltome.
“CanIcallyou?”
“Yes.”Iletoutabreath.“CanItextyou?”
“Youmay.CanIbookyouanappointmentwithanOB-GYN?”
“Yes.”Ilaughedthroughthetears,wipingthemquickly.Hestilldidn’tturnaroundtolookatme.WolfeKeatonwasn’tmuchofanegotiator,butforme—hebrokehisrules.
“MayIjoinyou?”Hisvoicewasgrave.
“Youbetter.”
Hisshouldersquakedinasoftchuckle,andhefinallyturnedaroundtofaceme.
“Goonadatewithme,Mrs.Keaton?Notagala.Notacharityevent.Notanofficialouting.Adate.”
God.
Oh,yes.
“Iwouldlovethatverymuch.”
“Good,”hesaid,lookingdownandchucklingtohimself.Ihadtoremindmyselfthatthiswasthesamecruelmanfromthemasquerade.TheoneIsworetohatefortherestofmylife.Helookedup,hisfacestilltilteddown,withashyyetdevastatedgaze.
“WillIgetluckyonthatdate?”
Ithrewmyselfonmypillow,coveringmyfacewithmyarm,thesoundofmylaughterdrowningtheclick
ofthedoorasitclosed.
Twodayslater,wepaidourfirstvisittomynewOB-GYN.Barbarawasinherfiftieswithcroppedblondhair,kindeyes,andthickglasses.Shedidanultrasoundandshowedusthepeanutswimminginmywomb.Itslittlepulsepitter-patteredliketinybarefeetdownthestairsonChristmasmorning.
Wolfeheldmyhandandstaredatthescreenasthoughwehadjustdiscoveredanewplanet.
Wewenttolunchafterthat.Ourfirstpublicunofficialoutingasacouple.Heinvitedmeovertoourhouse.Ipolitelydeclined,explainingImadeplanswithSherandTriciafrommystudygroup.ItriedtobitedownmysmilewhenIbrokethenewstohim.Ihadn’thadfriendsmyageeversinceImovedbackfromSwitzerland.
“Nemesis.”Hearchedaneyebrowwhenhedrovemebacktomyhouse.“NextthingIknow,you’llbeattendingfratparties.”
“Don’tholdyourbreath.”Partiesweren’tmyscene.Besides,theonesIwasusedtowerefancyanddemandedadresscodemypregnantselfwasn’teagertofollow.Eveninmyfirsttrimester,Ioptedforloose,comfortableattire.
“Ithinkeveryoneneedstogotoatleastonefratpartytoseewhatallthefussisabout.”
“Woulditbotheryou?”Iasked.Iwantedtoputacrossthathedidn’thavethiskindofpowerovermeanymore.
“Notatall.UnlessAngeloisyourdate.”
Thatwasafairrequest,whichIcouldnolongerdenyit.Itookoutmyphonefrommybagandtosseditintohishands.
“Checkthis.”
“WhatamIchecking,exactly?”
“Ideletedhisnumber.”
Hestoppedthecarinfrontofmyhouseandkilledtheengine.Hehandedmebackmyphone.“I’lltakeyourwordforit.Whatchangedyourmind?”
Irolledmyeyes.“I’minlovewiththisguy,andhehasthisideainhisheadthatIwillrunawaywithmychildhoodsweetheart.”
Wolfeshotmeadirtylook.“Heistragicallyinlovewithyou,too,andIdon’tblamehimforbeingadamantaboutkeepingyou.”
ThereweremanymoredatesbetweenWolfeandmeafterthatday.
Wewenttothemoviesandtorestaurantsandeventohotelbars,inwhichwebothdidn’tdrink—mebecauseofmyageandpregnancy,himoutofsolidarity.
Wesharedabowloffrenchfriesandplayedpoolandarguedaboutbooks.IfoundoutthatmyhusbandwasaStephenKingfanatic.IwasmoreofaNoraRobertsfanmyself.Westoppedatabookstoreandpurchasedeachotherbookstoread.WelaughedwhenWolfetoldmehenearlykickedtheHatch’soutofourhousethattimetheyvisitedusbecauseBryanhadanerectionasimpressiveasabaseballbatwhileIplayedthepiano.
Andrea,mycousin,called.Shesaidthatshe’dbeenthinking,andshereachedtheconclusionshecouldnolongernotspeaktomejustbecausemyfatherdidn’tapproveofthehusbandhehimselfchoseforme.Sheaskedformyforgiveness.
“Iwasn’tbeingagoodChristianaboutit,doll.”Shesnappedherguminmyear.“Cometothinkaboutit,Iwasn’tevenagoodmanicuristaboutit.Ibetyoubitintothosenailslikenobody’sbusinesswithoutmeremindingyoutostopchewingonthem.”
Itoldherthetruth—forgivenesscostmenothing,andmorethanthat,itenrichedmysoul.Wemetforacappuccinothefollowingday,andIbombardedherwithallthetwenty-firstcenturyquestionsthatsatonmytongue.
Somedayslater,Wolfeannouncedthatweweretakingaweekend-longtriptovisitArtemis.Iwasn’tinaconditiontorideher,butIenjoyedtakingcareofherandmakingsureshewasdoingokay.
Amonthtickedby.Amonthinwhichmyhusbandcalledeverymorningtowakemeupandeverynighttotellmegoodnight.Amonthinwhichwedidn’tfight,orcuss,orslamdoors.Amonthinwhichhedidnotwithholdanyinformationfromme,andIdidnotrefusehiseveryrequest,simplybecausehe’dmadeit.IlettheEPAsescortmetoschool,didn’tbreakprotocol,andstillmanagedtomakeahandfuloffriends.Wolfeworkedhardbutalwaysmadesuretoputmefirst.
Istillwasn’twearingmyengagementandweddingrings—Ileftthemathishousethenighthewenttotheblack-tiegalawithKarolinaIvanova.ButIneverfeltasifIbelongedtosomeoneelseinmyentirelifemorethannow,ringornot.
Wefellbackinlustjustasyoudointoarabbithole—fastandfrantic.Wolfe,Ifoundout,wasquitefondofhavingsexinunusualplaces.Wehadsexinhisofficeandinarestroomatawedding,onthebedinmyoldroomwhenmyparentsweren’thomeandagainsthisbedroomwindow,watchingoverthepristinestreet.
Hefingeredmeunderthetableduringanofficialblack-tiedinnerandthrusthimselfintomewithoutwarningwhenIbentdownafterashowertoopenthebottomdrawerinthebathroomandretrievemyblowdryer.
Ilovedeverysecondofusinbedbecausenooneeverneededtowonderwhenitwastimetoretreatbacktotheirspot,theirwing,ortheirhouse.Wealwaysfellasleeptogetherandwokeuptogether,insulatedinthisnew,excitingthingcalledus.
ThemorningIwokeupwithasmall,visiblebumpinmylowerbelly—itfelthardandtoughandexciting—mymotherwalkedintomyroomandsatdownontheedgeofmybed.
“I’mdivorcingyourfather.”
IhadathousandthingsIwantedtotellher.FromthankGod
towhattookyousolong?
butIsettledforasimplenod,squeezingherhandinminetogiveherstrength.Icouldn’tbemoreproudofherifItried.Shehadalottolose.Butshewaswillingtoloseit,anyway,ifitmeantwinningbackherfreedomandvoice.
“IthinkIdeservemore.IthinkIdeservedmoreallalong,Ijustdidn’tknowthatitcouldbepossible.Iknowthatnow,throughyou,VitaMia.Yourhappyendinginspiredmine.”Shewipedawayatear,forcingasmileonherface.
“Mystoryhasn’tendedjustyet.”Ilaughed.
“Notyet,”sheagreedwithawink,“butIseewheretheplotisgoing.”
“Mama.”Iclutchedherpalm,tearsbrewinginmyeyes.“Thebestpartofyourstoryisyettobewritten.You’redoingtherightthing.”
ClaraandIhelpedMamapackherbags.Clarasuggestedsheshouldbookahotel.Ishookmyhead.ItwastimeformetogobacktowhereIbelonged.AnditwastimeforWolfetoplaynicewithbothofourmothers—hisandmine.Ipickedupthephoneandcalledmyhusband.Heansweredonthefirstring.
“I’mreadytocomehome.”
“Thankfuck
,”hebreathed.“Whattookyousolong?”
“Ineededtoseethatyoumeantit.Thatmyfreedomwasreallymine.”
“Itisyours,”hesaidgravely.“Ithasalwaysbeenyours.”
“CanMamaandClaracomestaywithusforawhile?”
“YoucanbringanentirehostilearmyintothehouseandI’dstillwelcomethemwithopenarms.”
Thatevening,WolfethrewalloursuitcasesintothebackofhiscarwithSmithy’shelp.Myfatherstoodatthedoorwayandwatcheduswithaglassofsomethingstrong.Hedidnotsayonething.Itdidn’tmatterthatWolfeboweddowntohimfortensecondsweeksago.SenatorKeatonwasstillthepersonwhohadwoneverythinginthegrandschemeofthings.
Myfatherhadlost,andthegamewasover.
Oncewegottothehouse,Ms.Sterling(IinsistedoncallingherPatricianowthatIknewshewasmymother-in-law),ledmymotherandClaratotheeastwingtogetsettled.WolfeandIclimbedupthestairsbehindthem.Whenwemadeittothesecondfloor,Iturnedtowardmyroom.
“Isthisreal?”Iaskedhim.
“Itisreal.”
Forthefirsttime,itfeltthatway,too.
Wewalkedhandinhandtothewestwing.Wepassedbyhisbedroom,enteringtheguestroomnexttoit,whereI’dsleptthenightweentertainedtheHatch’s.MybreathflutteredbehindmyribcagewhenIrealizedwhatIwaslookingatwhenheopenedthedoor.
Anursery.Allwhiteandcrèmeandsoftyellows.Brightandbigandfullyfurnished.Icuppedmymouthtostopmyselffrombawling.Hisacceptanceofthisbabysomehowtoremeapart.Itwasmuchmorethanhisacceptanceofhischild.Itwashisacceptanceofme.
“Everythingischangeable,”hesaid.“Well,otherthanthefactthatwe’rehavingababy.”
“It’sperfect,”Ibreathed.“Thankyou.”
“Youwereright.You’remywife.We’llsleeptogether.We’lllivetogether.”Therewasadramaticpause.“We’llevenshareawalk-incloset.Iusedsomeofthefreespaceyousocharitablymadeformetoaccommodateyourgarments.”
Ilaughedthroughmytears.This.Righthere.Thiswaseverything.Beyondmywildestdreams.Amanwholovedmewithoutaskingforanythingback.AmanwhosufferedquietlyasIwasinlovewithanothermanandcreepedonme,feelingbyfeeling,secondbysecond,daybyday.Hewaspatientanddetermined.Callousandoverbearing.HewatchedmekissandgrindAngeloallwithhisringonmyfinger.Hewentdownonhiskneestobegthemanwho’dkilledhisfamilytobringmebacktohim.Hedidnotthinkhecouldbeagoodfather,butIknew—Iwholeheartedlyknew—thathewouldbethegreatestdadintheentireworld.
Iroseonmytoes,pressingakisstomyhusband’sdeliciousmouth.
Hetuggedatmylonghair.
“Onlyyou,”hesaid.
“Onlyyou,”Ireplied.
SenatorWolfeKeatonbentdownononekneeandproducedtheengagementringI’dleftonmypillowweeksago.
“Bemywife,Nemesis.Butknowonething—ifyoueverwishtoleave,Iwillnotclipyourwings.”
ItwastheeasiestanswertothetoughestquestionI’deverbeenasked.Ijerkedmyhusbandupbythecollar,knowingdamnwellhowmuchhehatedthepositioninwhichhewasloweredontheground.
“Mywingsarenotmeanttofly,”Iwhispered.“They’remeanttoshieldourfamily.”FourYearsAfter.
“INOWBAPTIZEYOUIN
thenameoftheFather,andoftheSon,andoftheHolySpiritfortheforgivenessofyoursinsandthegiftsoftheHolySpirits.”
Oursecondchild,JoshuaRomeoKeaton,wasbaptizedinSt.Raphael’schurchinLittleItalyinfrontofourfriendsandfamilyjustdaysafterIreceivedmyundergraduatedegreeinlaw.IheldJoshwhenthepriesttrickledholywateronhisforehead,lookingtomyleftatmyhusband,whocradledourverysleepythree-year-olddaughter,Emmaline.
AsIscannedthelongwoodenpewstolookforthepeoplewhomademyheartsing,IrealizedhowincrediblyblessedIwas.Ifoundmymotherandhernewbeau,Charles‘Charlie’Stephens,whomshe’dbeendatingforthepastsixmonths.Heheldherhandinhisandwhisperedsoftlyinherear.ShepointedatsleepyJoshuainmyarms,andtheysharedachuckle.Nexttothem,ClaraandPatricia(orSterling,asmyhusbandstillinsistedoncallingher)weresheddinghappytears,dabbingtheirfaceswithtissue.Andreasattherewithhernewboyfriend—aMadeMannamedMateoandIknew,bythewaytheyheldhands,thatthiswastheoneguyshewouldletkissher—nexttosomeofmyschoolfriendsandthenewgovernor,AustinBerger.Missinginaction,andnotbyaccident,werethepeoplewhohadloadedobstaclesonWolfe’sandmyhappilyeverafter.Thepeoplewhopushedustogetheryettoreusaparteachintheirownway.
Myfatherwasinprison,servingatwenty-five-yearsentenceforattemptedmurder.ShortlyafterMamacametolivewithus,hetriedtotakeherlife.Hewentmadafterherealizedherfilingfordivorcewasn’tjustaphase.Naturally,heblamedmeandWolfeforherdecisiontobetterherlifeandleaveherabusivehusband,who’dleftcountlesspurpleweltsalloverherbodythroughtheirpastfewyearstogetherbeforeIcamebackfromSwitzerland.SincePapahadpaidsomeseriousmoneytoWhiteunderthetable,andthelatterhadtrieddragginghisfeetwithcollectingevidenceagainsthimwhenmymother’scarblewuptotheskyinfrontofWolfe’sandmyhouse,aninternal,quietinvestigationagainstWhiteandBishoptookplace,andthepolicechiefandformergovernorwerenowontrialforreceivingbriberyandillegalcampaigncontributionsfromtheinfamousArthurRossi.
Duringthemediacoverageofthehigh-profilecase,thepersonwhokeptcomingupinthenewsasanexampleforgoodmoralswasmyhusband,whomarriedintoTheOutfityetmadesurenottohaveanythingtodowithmyfatherorhisbusiness.
Ifeltmyhusband’sthumbswipingacrossmyuppercheekashewipedawayatearofjoyfrommyeye.Hechuckedmeunderthechin,thengrinned.He’dmadehiswayovertomewithoutmyevennoticing.Iwastoowrappedupinhowfortunatewewere.Joshuafussedinmyarms,andthepriesttookastepbackandsmoothedbackhisthinandvelvetydarkhair.
“HewasmadewithGod’slove,”FatherSpinacommented.
Myhusbandscoffedbesideme.Hewasn’tbigonGod.Orpeople.Hewasbigonmeandourfamily.Theprieststeppedaway,andmyhusbandplasteredhislipstomyear.“Whileyoudidcallmegod,hewasnotpresentduringtheconception.”
Ichuckled,holdingJoshtomychestandbreathinginhispurescentofnewlife,shudderingwithintensejoycoursingthroughmyveins.
“Areyoureadytotakethelittleoneshome?Ithinktheyneedtheirsleep.”Myhusbandputahandonmyshoulder,ourdaughterfastasleepinthecrookofhisotherarm.Wedecidedtorefrainfromabigpartyafterthebaptism,seeingasourfamilywasconstantlyinthenewsbecauseofthetrial.
“They’renottheonlyones.I
couldusesomesleep,too,”Imurmuredintomyson’stemple.
“SterlingandClaracantakecareofEmmieandJoshwhileIruinwhat’sleftofyourinnocence.”
“Ithinkyoudidathoroughjobthefirstweekwemet.”Iwiggledmybrows,andheburstoutlaughing,somethinghe’dlearnedhowtodoslowlyafterwegotbacktogether.“Besides,don’tyouneedtoflyouttoDCthisevening?”
“Cancelledit.”
“Howcome?”
“I’minthemoodforspendingtimewithmyfamily.”
“Yourcountryneedsyou,”Iteased
“AndIneedyou
.”Hedrewmeintoahug,kidsandall.
Ms.Sterlingstilllivedwithuseventhoughshewasgivenstrictinstructionstostopeavesdropping—aruleshewassurprisinglygoodatfollowing.Claralivedacrossthecityinmymother’snewhouse,butthetwooftenhelpedwithbabysittingthekidstogether.Despitethefactmyfatherwasoutofmylife,I’dneverfeltmorelovedandprotectedbythepeopleIcaredabout.AndWolfewasenteringanimportantstageinhiscareer.Histimeassenatorwouldcometoanendinlessthantwoyears.
“There’ssomewhereIwanttotakeyoutonight.Yourpumpisalreadypackedandinthecar.”Hechuckedmychin.Thiswasmylifenow.Fromcheatingandfightingandtearingeachotherapart,wemovedtoaritualthatwassodomesticallyblissful,IwassometimesterrifiedofhowhappyIwas.
Iampinkcottoncandyatafair,happyandbubblyandsweet.Allfluff.
“Nothingsaysromancemorethanyourhusbandpackingyourbreastpumpforyou.”
“There’salwaysthealternativeifyoujustkeepyourmindopen.”Hewasreferringtoourlastvisittoarestaurant,whenIwassoengorged,Ihadtolockmyselfinthebathroomtopumpmyselfmanuallyintothetoilet.Heverykindlyofferedtodrinkthewastedmilk.Iwasn’tevensurehewasentirelykidding.
“Ourplansoundscryptic.”Iarchedaneyebrow.
“Perhaps,butit’sfun.”HetookJoshuafromme,securinghiminhisbabyseatbeforeopeningthecardoorforme.Igotmydriver’slicenseshortlyafterI’dmovedbackinwithWolfe.Hewasnotthehappiesttohavemebehindthewheel,orinavehicleatallforthatmatter,whilepregnantandatoddswithmyfather.Tooworriedaboutthebabyandme.ButhealsoknewIneededmyfreedom.
Aftertakingalengthynap,Islippedintoanelegantreddress.WolfedroveustoLittleItalywithClaraandSterlingstayingwiththekids.Iworematchingmatteredlipstickandasmilethatdidn’twaver.Despitesupportingmyhusband’sambitions,Icouldn’tdenymydelighttohearhe’dcanceledhisflighttoDCtospendmoretimewithus
WestoppedinfrontofourItalianrestaurant,PastaBella,andIunbuckled,abouttogetout.MyhusbandhadpurchasedMama’sPizzanottoolongaftermyfatherhadbeenconvictedofattemptedmurder.Heguttedandrefurbishedit,liquidatingthedarkmemoriesthewallsandcracksinsideitharbored.Itwasjustanotherdinnerdate,then.Niceandcozy.Achancetounwindandmaybedrinkaglassofwine.Wolfeputahandonmythigh.
“Confessiontime.”
“Wejust
leftthechurch,Wolfe.”
“TheonlypersonIoweanexplanationtoisyou.”
“Tellme.”Ismiled.
“Angeloisabouttoannouncehisengagementtoagirlhemetattheaccountingfirmheworksat.”Wolferanhisfingersalongmyarm,cockinghisheadintherestaurant’sdirection.“He’salittletightonmoney,sohereachedouttoaskifhecouldhaveithere.Isaidyes.Myulteriormotive?Iknowthatyou’vebeenfeelingalittleguilty,soIwantedyoutoseethatheisfine.”
Mylipsfellopeninshock.
InthemonthsandyearsafterIfoundoutthatIwaspregnantwithEmmie,IoftenagonizedoverthefactthatAngelohadn’tmovedon.Hedidn’thaveagirlfriendordateanyoneseriously.Shortlybeforehegothismaster’sdegree,hisfather’saccountingfirmshutdownaftertheIRShadfoundthatthey’dbeenlaunderingmoneyforTheOutfitinthemillions.MikeBandiniwasfirmlytuckedawayinprisonnow,servingtwentyyears.Angelowasstillongoodtermswithhisparentsfromwhatmymotherhadtoldme—hecertainlytookcareofhismamaandbrothers—buthehadofficiallycutalltieswithTheOutfit.IthadbeenmonthssinceI’daskedMamaabouthim,andIguesshe’dfinallyfoundsomeone.
Wolfestaredatme,tryingtogaugemyreaction.Icouldtellhedidn’twanttoupsetme,butIcouldalsotellthathereallywantedmenottohaveanoveremotionalreactiononewayortheother.Angelowas,andalwayswouldbe,asensitivesubjectinourmarriage.IslicedhimopenbykissingAngeloinfrontoftheentireworld.Heforgave,butIcouldn’texpecthimtoforget.
Icrackedasmile,yankingmyhusbandintoahug.
“Thankyou.Thatmakesmesohappyforhim.Andforme,too.”
“God,you’reperfect,”myhusbandmuttered,sealingourconversationwithakiss.“Itookyouhopingforvengeance.IneverthoughtI’dreceivesomethingsomuchmorepowerful.Love.”
Hegotout,roundedthecar,andopenedthedoorforme.Together,wewalkedintoPastaBella,handinhand.TheonlypersonIhadn’tthoughtabouttoday,asnostalgiafloodedme,wasKristenRhys,thewomanwhoorchestratedtwooftheworstdaysofmylife.Iknewwewouldn’tbebumpingintoher.Aftershecorneredmeatschool,Wolfehadfinallypickedupthephoneandansweredher.HehelpedherfindajobinAlaska,thenproceededtomakehersignacontractmorerestrictingthanarestrainingorder.RhyswasnottoreturntothestateofIllinoisandseekusout.Shegavehimherwordthatshewasdonemessingwithourfamily.
“Whatareyouthinkingabout?”myhusbandaskedashepushedthedoortotherestaurantopen.Buttery,liquidlightenvelopedusimmediately,candlesandredtableclothsandrichwoodeverywhere.Theplacewaspacked,andamongthebobbingheadsandlaughter,IfoundAngelo,hisarmdrapedovertheshoulderofabeautifulgirlwithlongblackhairandslantedeyes.Wewalkedtowardthem.
“I’mthinkingabouthowhappyyoumakeme,”Isaid,frankly.
WestoppedtwofeetfromAngelo.
Heturnedaroundandsmiledatme,happinessshiningfromhisblue,oceaneyes.
“Wemadeit,”Iwhispered.“Apart.”
“Youlookbeautiful,FrancescaRossi.”Angelopulledmebythecollarforaslow,suffocatinghug,whisperinginmyear.“Butnotasbeautifulasmyfuturewife.”
SixYearsAfter
Iwatchedmywifefromwhatusedtobeherbedroomwindowmany,manyyearsago,myhandcaressingthewoodenboxwhereEmmeline—itwasherroomnow—keptallherseashells.FrancescaandIhadagreedearlyintoparenthoodthatwedidn’twanttocontinueherfamilytraditionofthenotes.Toomuchpressureandconfusion.
MyeyesfollowedmywifeasshesaidgoodbyetoherfavoritevegetablegardenthatshehadtendedtoforoveradecadewithJoshandEmmelinehuggingeachofherhipsandlittleChristianinherarms.Sterlingwasthere,too,rubbingmywife’sshoulderwithasmile.
Laterontonight,weweregoingtoboardaplanethatwouldtakeustoDC.IwasgoingtostartservingmycountrythewayI’ddreamedaboutsinceIwasanorphan—asthepresidentoftheUnitedStates.
Wehaddreamstochase,acountrytoserve,andalifetimetoloveeachothermorefiercelyandstronglythanwedidthelastyear.ButasIlookeddownather,Iknew,withoutashadowofadoubt,thatmydecisiontostealherunderthestarlessChicagoskytenyearsagowasthebestchoiceI’dmade.
Ilovedmycountryferociously.
Ilovedmywifemore.
THEEND
EnjoyedWolfeKeatonfromTheKissThief
?MakesureyoumeetBaron‘Vicious’Spencer,theoriginalanti-hero.
MYGRANDMAMAONCETOLDME
thatloveandhatearethesamefeelingsexperiencedunderdifferentcircumstances.Thepassionisthesame.Thepainisthesame.Thatweirdthingthatbubblesinyourchest?Same.Ididn’tbelieveheruntilImetBaronSpencerandhebecamemynightmare.
Thenmynightmarebecamemyreality.
IthoughtI’descapedhim.Iwasevenstupidenoughtothinkhe’dforgottenIeverexisted.
Butwhenhecameback,hehitharderthanIeverthoughtpossible.
Andjustlikeadomino—Ifell.
TenYearsAgo
I’donlybeeninsidethemansiononcebefore,whenmyfamilyfirstcametoTodosSantos.Thatwastwomonthsago.Thatday,Istoodrootedinplaceonthesameironwoodflooringthatnevercreaked.
Thatfirsttime,Mamahadelbowedmyribs.“Youknowthisisthetoughestfloorintheworld?”
Shefailedtomentionitbelongedtothemanwiththetoughestheartintheworld.
Icouldn’tforthelifeofmeunderstandwhypeoplewithsomuchmoneywouldspenditonsuchadepressinghouse.Tenbedrooms.Thirteenbathrooms.Anindoorgymandadramaticstaircase.Thebestamenitiesmoneycouldbuy…andexceptforthetenniscourtandsixty-five-footpool,theywereallinblack.
Blackchokedouteverypleasantfeelingyoumightpossiblyhaveassoonasyouwalkedthroughthebigiron-studdeddoors.Theinteriordesignermust’vebeenamedievalvampire,judgingfromthecold,lifelesscolorsandthegiantironchandeliershangingfromtheceilings.EventhefloorwassodarkthatitlookedlikeIwashoveringoveranabyss,afractionofasecondfromfallingintonothingness.
Aten-bedroomhouse,threepeoplelivinginit—twoofthembarelyeverthere—andtheSpencershaddecidedtohousemyfamilyintheservants’apartmentnearthegarage.ItwasbiggerthanourclapboardrentalinRichmond,Virginia,butuntilthatmoment,ithadstillrubbedmethewrongway.
Notanymore.
EverythingabouttheSpencermansionwasdesignedtointimidate.Richandwealthy,yetpoorinsomanyways.Thesearenothappypeople,
Ithought
Istaredatmyshoes—thetatteredwhiteVansIdoodledcolorfulflowersontohidethefactthattheywereknock-offs—andswallowed,feelinginsignificantevenbeforehe
hadbelittledme.BeforeIevenknewhim
“Iwonderwhereheis?”Mamawhispered.
Aswestoodinthehallway,Ishiveredattheechothatbouncedoffthebarewalls.Shewantedtoaskifwecouldgetpaidtwodaysearlybecauseweneededtobuymedicineformyyoungersister,Rosie.
“Ihearsomethingcomingfromthatroom.”Shepointedtoadoorontheoppositesideofthevaultedfoyer.“Yougoknock.I’llgobacktothekitchentowait.”
“Me?
Whyme?”
“Because,”shesaid,pinningmewithastarethatstabbedatmyconscience,“Rosie’ssick,andhisparentsareoutoftown.You’rehisage.He’lllistentoyou.”
IdidasIwastold—notforMama,forRosie—withoutunderstandingtheconsequences.ThenextfewminutescostmemywholesenioryearandwerethereasonwhyIwasrippedfrommyfamilyattheageofeighteen.
ViciousthoughtIknewhissecret.
Ididn’t.
HethoughtI’dfoundoutwhathewasarguingaboutinthatroomthatday.
Ihadnoclue.
AllIrememberwastrudgingtowardthethresholdofanotherdarkdoor,myfisthoveringinchesfromitbeforeIheardthedeepraspofanoldman.
“Youknowthedrill,Baron.”
Aman.Asmoker,probably.
“Mysistertoldmeyou’regivinghertroubleagain.”Themanslurredhiswordsbeforeraisinghisvoiceandslappinghispalmagainstahardsurface.“I’vehadenoughofyoudisrespectingher.”
“Fuckyou.”Iheardthecomposedvoiceofayoungerman.Hesounded…amused?“Andfuckhertoo.Wait,isthatwhyyou’rehere,Daryl?Youwantapieceofyoursistertoo?Thegoodnewsisthatshe’sopenforbusiness,ifyouhavethebucktopay.”
“Lookatthemouthonyou,youlittlecunt.”Slap.“Yourmotherwould’vebeenproud.”
Silence,andthen,“Sayanotherwordaboutmymother,andI’llgiveyouarealreasontogetthosedentalimplantsyouweretalkingaboutwithmydad.”Theyoungerman’svoicedrippedvenom,whichmademethinkhemightnotbeasyoungasMamathought.
“Stayaway,”theyoungervoicewarned.“Icanbeattheshitoutofyou,now.Asamatteroffact,I’mprettytemptedtodoso.All.Thefucking.Time.I’mdonewithyourshit.”
“Andwhatthehellmakesyouthinkyouhaveachoice?”Theoldermanchuckleddarkly.
Ifelthisvoiceinmybones,likepoisoneatingatmyskeleton.
“Haven’tyouheard?”theyoungermangrittedout.“Iliketofight.Ilikethepain.MaybebecauseitmakesitsomucheasierformetocometotermswiththefactthatI’mgoingtokillyouoneday.AndIwill,Daryl.Oneday,Iwillkillyou.”
Igasped,toostunnedtomove.Iheardaloudsmack,thensomeonetumblingdown,draggingsomeitemswithhimashefelltothefloor.
Iwasabouttorun—thisconversationobviouslywasn’tmeantformetohear—buthecaughtmeoffguard.BeforeIknewwhatwashappening,thedoorswungopenandIcamefacetofacewithaboyaroundmyage.Isayaboy,
buttherewasnothingboyishabouthim
Theoldermanstoodbehindhim,pantinghard,hunchedwithhishandsflatagainstadesk.Bookswerescatteredaroundhisfeet,andhislipwascutandbleeding.
Theroomwasalibrary.Soaringfloor-to-ceiling,walnutshelvesfullofhardbackslinedthewalls.IfeltapanginmychestbecauseIsomehowknewtherewasn’tanywayI’deverbeallowedinthereagain.
“Whatthefuck?”theteenageboyseethed.Hiseyesnarrowed.Theyfeltlikethesightofarifleaimedatme.
Seventeen?Eighteen?
Thefactthatwewereaboutthesameagesomehowmadeeverythingaboutthesituationworse.Iduckedmyhead,mycheeksflamingwithenoughheattoburndownthewholehouse.
“Haveyoubeenlistening?”Hisjawtwitched.
Ifranticallyshookmyheadno
,butthatwasalie.I’dalwaysbeenaterribleliar.
“Ididn’thearathing,Iswear.”Ichokedonmywords.“Mymamaworkshere.Iwaslookingforher.”Anotherlie.
I’dneverbeenascaredy-cat.Iwasalwaysthebraveone.ButIdidn’tfeelsobraveatthatmoment.Afterall,Iwasn’tsupposedtobethere,inhishouse,andIdefinitelywasn’tsupposedtobelisteningtotheirargument.
Theyoungmantookastepcloser,andItookastepback.Hiseyesweredead,buthislipswerered,full,andverymuchalive.ThisguyisgoingtobreakmyheartifIlethim.
Thevoicecamefromsomewhereinsidemyhead,andthethoughtstunnedmebecauseitmadenosenseatall.I’dneverfalleninlovebefore,andIwastooanxioustoevenregisterhiseyecolororhairstyle,letalonethenotionofeverhavinganyfeelingsfortheguy.
“What’syourname?”hedemanded.Hesmelleddelicious—amasculinespiceofboy-man,sweetsweat,sourhormones,andthefainttraceofcleanlaundry,oneofmymama’smanychores.
“Emilia.”Iclearedmythroatandextendedmyarm.“MyfriendscallmeMillie.Y’allcantoo.”
Hisexpressionrevealedzeroemotion.“You’refuckingdone,Emilia
.”Hedrawledmyname,mockingmySouthernaccentandnotevenacknowledgingmyhandwithaglance.
Iwithdrewitquickly,embarrassmentflamingmycheeksagain.
“Wrongfuckingplaceandwrongfuckingtime.NexttimeIfindyouanywhereinsidemyhouse,bringabodybagbecauseyouwon’tbeleavingalive.”Hethunderedpastme,hismusculararmbrushingmyshoulder.
Ichokedonmybreath.Mygazeboltedtotheolderman,andoureyeslocked.Heshookhisheadandgrinnedinawaythatmademewanttofoldintomyselfanddisappear.Blooddrippedfromhislipontohisleatherboot—blacklikehiswornMCjacket.Whatwashedoinginaplacelikethis,anyway?Hejuststaredatme,makingnomovetocleanuptheblood.
Iturnedaroundandran,feelingthebileburninginmythroat,threateningtospillover.
Needlesstosay,Rosiehadtomakedowithouthermedicinethatweekandmyparentswerepaidnotaminuteearlierthanwhentheywerescheduledto.
Thatwastwomonthsago.
Today,whenIwalkedthroughthekitchenandclimbedthestairs,Ihadnochoice.
IknockedonVicious’sbedroomdoor.Hisroomwasonthesecondfloorattheendofthewidecurvedhallway,thedoorfacingthefloatingstonestaircaseofthecave-likemansion.
I’dneverbeennearVicious’sroom,andIwishedIcouldkeepitthatway.Unfortunately,mycalculusbookhadbeenstolen.Whoeverbrokeintomylockerhadwipeditcleanofmystuffandleftgarbageinside.Emptysodacans,cleaningsupplies,andcondomwrappersspilledouttheminuteIopenedthelockerdoor.
Justanothernot-so-clever,yeteffective,wayforthestudentsatAllSaintsHightoremindmethatIwasnothingbutthecheaphelparoundhere.Bythatpoint,IwassousedtoitIbarelyreddenedatall.Whenalleyesinthehallwaydartedtome,snickersandchucklesrisingoutofeverythroat,Itiltedmychinupandmarchedstraighttomynextclass.
AllSaintsHighwasaschoolfullofspoiled,over-privilegedsinners.Aschoolwhereifyoufailedtodressoractacertainway,youdidn’tbelong.RosieblendedinbetterthanIdid,thanktheLord.ButwithaSoutherndrawl,off-beatstyle,andoneofthemostpopularguysatschool—thatbeingViciousSpencer—hatingmyguts,Ididn’tfitin.
WhatmadeitworsewasthatIdidn’twant
tofitin.Thesekidsdidn’timpressme.Theyweren’tkindorwelcomingorevenverysmart.Theydidn’tpossessanyofthequalitiesIlookedforinfriends.
ButIneededmytextbookbadlyifIeverwantedtoescapethisplace.
IknockedthreetimesonthemahoganydoorofVicious’sbedroom.Rollingmylowerlipbetweenmyfingers,ItriedtosuckinasmuchoxygenasIcould,butitdidnothingtocalmthethrobbingpulseinmyneck.
Pleasedon’tbethere…
Pleasedon’tbeanass…
Please…
Asoftnoiseseepedfromthecrackunderthedoor,andmybodytensed.
Giggling
Viciousnevergiggled.Heck,hehardlyeverchuckled.Evenhissmileswerefewandfarbetween.No.Thesoundwasundoubtedlyfemale.
Iheardhimwhisperinhisraspytonesomethinginaudiblethatmadehermoan.Myearsseared,andIanxiouslyrubbedmyhandsontheyellowcut-offdenimshortscoveringmythighs.OutofallthescenariosIcouldhaveimagined,thiswasbyfartheworst.
Him.
Withanothergirl.
WhoIhatedbeforeIevenknewhername.
Itdidn’tmakeanysense,yetIfeltridiculouslyangry.
Buthewasclearlythere,andIwasagirlonamission.
“Vicious?”Icalledout,tryingtosteadymyvoice.Istraightenedmyspine,eventhoughhecouldn’tseeme.“It’sMillie.Sorrytointerrupt,y’all.Ijustwantedtoborrowyourcalcbook.Mine’slost,andIreallyneedtogetreadyforthatexamwehavetomorrow.”Godforbidyoueverstudyforourexamyourself
,Ibreathedsilently.
Hedidn’tanswer,butIheardasharpintakeofbreath—thegirl
—andtherustleoffabricandthenoiseofazipperrolling.Down,Ihadnodoubt.
Isqueezedmyeyesshutandpressedmyforeheadagainstthecoolwoodofhisdoor.
Bitethebullet.Swallowyourpride.
Thiswouldn’tmatterinafewyears.Viciousandhisstupidanticswouldbeadistantmemory,thesnootytownofTodosSantosjustadust-coveredpartofmypast.
MyparentshadjumpedatthechancewhenJosephineSpencerofferedthemajob.They’ddraggedusacrossthecountrytoCaliforniabecausethehealthcarewasbetterandwedidn’tevenneedtopayrent.MamawastheSpencers’cook/housekeeper,andDaddywaspartgardenerandhandyman.Thepreviouslive-incouplehadquit,anditwasnowonder.Prettysuremyparentsweren’tsokeenonthejobeither.Butopportunitieslikethesewererare,andJosephineSpencer’smamawasfriendswithmygreat-aunt,whichishowthey’dgottenthejob.
Iwasplanningongettingoutofheresoon.AssoonasIgotacceptedtothefirstout-of-statecollegeI’dappliedto,tobeexact.Inordertodoso,though,Ineededascholarship.
Forascholarship,Ineededkick-assgrades.
Andforkick-assgrades,Ineededthistextbook.
“Vicious,”Igroundouthisstupidnickname.Iknewhehatedhisrealname,andforreasonsbeyondmygrasp,Ididn’twanttoupsethim.“I’llgrabthebookandcopytheformulasIneedrealquick.Iwon’tborrowitlong.Please.”Igulpeddowntheballoffrustrationtwistinginmythroat.ItwasbadenoughI’dhadmystuffstolen—again
—withouthavingtoaskViciousforfavors.
Thegigglingescalated.Thehigh,screechypitchsawedthroughmyears.Myfingerstingledtopushthedooropenandlaunchathimwithmyfists.
Iheardhisgroanofpleasureandknewithadnothingtodowiththegirlhewaswith.Helovedtauntingme.Eversinceourfirstencounteroutsideofhislibrarytwomonthsago,he’dbeenhell-bentonremindingmethatIwasn’tgoodenough.
Notgoodenoughforhismansion.
Notgoodenoughforhisschool.
Notgoodenoughforhistown
Worstpart?Itwasn’tafigureofspeech.Itreallywas
histown.BaronSpencerJr.—dubbedViciousforhiscold,ruthlessbehavior—wastheheirtooneofthebiggestfamily-ownedfortunesinCalifornia.TheSpencersownedapipelinecompany,halfofdowntownTodosSantos—includingthemall—andthreecorporateofficeparks.Vicioushadenoughmoneytotakecareofthenexttengenerationsofhisfamily
ButIdidn’t.
Myparentswereservants.Wehadtoworkforeverypenny.Ididn’texpecthimtounderstand.Trust-fundkidsneverdid.ButIpresumedhe’datleastpretend,liketherestofthem.
Educationmatteredtome,andatthatmoment,Ifeltrobbedofit.
Becauserichpeoplehadstolenmybooks.
Becausethisparticularrichkidwouldn’tevenopenthedoortohisroomsoIcouldborrowhistextbookrealquick.
“Vicious!”Myfrustrationgotthebetterofme,andIslammedmypalmflatagainsthisdoor.Ignoringthethrobitsentupmywrist,Icontinued,exasperated.“C’mon!”
Iwasclosetoturningaroundandwalkingaway.EvenifitmeantIhadtotakemybikeandrideallthewayacrosstowntoborrowSydney’sbooks.SydneywasmyonlyfriendatAllSaintsHigh,andtheonepersonIlikedinclass.
ButthenIheardViciouschuckling,andIknewthejokewasonme.“Ilovetoseeyoucrawl.Begforit,baby,andI’llgiveittoyou,”hesaid.
Nottothegirlinhisroom.
Tome.
Ilostit.EventhoughIknewitwaswrong.Thathewaswinning.
Ithrustthedooropenandbargedintohisroom,stranglingthehandlewithmyfist,myknuckleswhiteandburning
Myeyesdartedtohisking-sizedbed,barelystoppingtotakeinthegorgeousmuralaboveit—fourwhitehorsesgallopingintothedarkness—ortheelegantdarkfurniture.Hisbedlookedlikeathrone,sittinginthemiddleoftheroom,bigandhighanddrapedinsoftblacksatin.Hewasperchedontheedgeofhismattress,agirlwhowasinmyPEclassinhislap.HernamewasGeorgiaandhergrandparentsownedhalfthevineyardsupstateinCarmelValley.Georgia’slongblondehairveiledoneofhisbroadshouldersandherCaribbeantanlookedperfectandsmoothagainstVicious’spalecomplexion.
Hisdarkblueeyes—sodarktheywerealmostblack—lockedonmineashecontinuedtokissherravenously—histonguemakingseveralappearances—likeshewasmadeofcottoncandy.Ineededtolookaway,butcouldn’t.Iwastrappedinhisgaze,completelyimmobilizedfromtheeyesdown,soIarchedaneyebrow,showinghimthatIdidn’tcare.
OnlyIdid.Icaredalot.
Icaredsomuch,infact,thatIcontinuedtostareatthemshamelessly.Athishollowedcheeksasheinsertedhistonguedeepintohermouth,hisburning,tauntingglareneverleavingmine,gaugingmeforareaction.Ifeltmybodybuzzinginanunfamiliarway,fallingunderhisspell.Asweet,pungentfog.Itwassexual,unwelcome,yetcompletelyinescapable.Iwantedtobreakfree,butforthelifeofme,Icouldn’t.
Mygriponthedoorhandletightened,andIswallowed,myeyesdroppingtohishandashegrabbedherwaistandsqueezedplayfully.Isqueezedmyownwaistthroughthefabricofmyyellow-and-whitesunflowertop.
Whatthehellwaswrongwithme?Watchinghimkissanothergirlwasunbearable,butalsoweirdlyfascinating.
Iwantedtoseeit.
Ididn’twanttoseeit.
Eitherway,Icouldn’tunsee
it.
Admittingdefeat,Iblinked,shiftingmygazetoablackRaiderscaphungovertheheadrestofhisdeskchair.
“Yourtextbook,Vicious.Ineedit,”Irepeated.“I’mnotleavingyourroomwithoutit.”
“Getthefuckout,Help,”hesaidintoGeorgia’sgigglingmouth.
Athorntwistedinmyheart,jealousyfillingmychest.Icouldn’twrapmyheadaroundthisphysicalreaction.Thepain.Theshame.Thelust
.IhatedVicious.Hewashard,heartless,andhateful.I’dheardhismotherhaddiedwhenhewasnine,buthewaseighteennowandhadanicestepmotherwholethimdowhateverhewanted.Josephineseemedsweetandcaring.
Hehadnoreasontobesocruel,yethewastoeveryone.Especiallytome.
“Nope.”Inside,ragepoundedthroughme,butoutside,Iremainedunaffected.“Calc.Textbook
.”Ispokeslowly,treatinghimliketheidiothethoughtIwas.“Justtellmewhereitis.I’llleaveitatyourdoorwhenI’mdone.Easiestwaytogetridofmeandgetbacktoyour…activities.”
Georgia,whowasfiddlingwithhiszipper,herwhitesheathdressalreadyunzippedfrombehind,growled,pushingawayfromhischestmomentarilyandrollinghereyes.
Shesqueezedherlipsintoadisapprovingpout.“Really?Mindy?”—MynamewasMillieandsheknewit—“Can’tyoufindanythingbettertodowithyourtime?He’salittleoutofyourleague,don’tyouthink?”
Vicioustookamomenttoexamineme,acockysmirkplasteredonhisface.Hewassodamnhandsome.Unfortunately.Blackhair,shinyandtrimmedfashionably,buzzedatthesidesandlongerontop.Indigoeyes,bottomlessintheirdepth,sparklingandhardened.Bywhat,Ididn’tknow.Skinsopalehelookedlikeastunningghost.
Asapainter,IoftenspenttimeadmiringVicious’sform.Theanglesofhisfaceandsharpbonestructure.Allsmoothedges.Definedandclear-cut.Hewasmadetobepainted.Amasterpieceofnature.
Georgiaknewittoo.I’dheardhernottoolongagotalkingabouthiminthelockerroomafterPE.Herfriendhadsaid,“Beautifulguy.”
“Dude,butugly
personality,”Georgiawasquicktoadd.Amomentofsilencepassedbeforethey’dbothsnortedoutalaugh.
“Whocares?”Georgia’sfriendhadconcluded.“I’dstilldohim.”
TheworstpartwasIcouldn’tblamethem.
Hewasbothaballerandfilthyrich—apopularguywhodressedandtalkedtherightway.AperfectAllSaintshero.Hedrovetherightkindofcar—Mercedes—andpossessedthatmystifyingauraofatruealpha.Healwayshadtheroom.Evenwhenhewascompletelysilent.
Feigningboredom,Icrossedmyarmsandleanedonehiponhisdoorframe.Istaredouthiswindow,knowingtearswouldappearinmyeyesifIlookeddirectlyathimorGeorgia.
“Hisleague
?”Imocked.“I’mnotevenplayingthesamegame.Idon’tplaydirty.”
“Youwill,onceIpushyoufarenough,”Vicioussnapped,histoneflatandhumorless.Itfeltlikeheclawedmygutsoutandthrewthemonhispristineironwoodfloor.
Iblinkedslowly,tryingtolookblasé.“Textbook?”Iaskedforthetwo-hundredthtime.
Hemust’veconcludedhe’dtorturedmeenoughforoneday.Hecockedhisheadsidewaystoabackpacksittingunderhisdesk.Thewindowaboveitoverlookedtheservants’apartmentwhereIlived,allowinghimaperfectviewdirectlyintomyroom.Sofar,I’dcaughthimstaringatmetwicethroughthewindow,andIalwayswonderedwhy.
Why,why,why?
Hehatedmesomuch.Theintensityofhisglareburnedmyfaceeverytimehelookedatme,whichwasn’tasoftenasI’dlikehimto.ButbeingthesensiblegirlthatIwas,Ineverallowedmyselftodwellonit.
ImarchedtotheGivenchyrubber-coatedbackpackhetooktoschooleverydayandblewoutairasIflippeditopen,rummagingnoisilythroughhisthings.Iwasgladmybackwastothem,andItriedtoblockoutthemoansandsuckingnoises.
Thesecondmyhandtouchedthefamiliarwhite-and-bluecalcbook,Istilled.IstaredatthecherryblossomI’ddoodledonthespine.Ragetingledupmyspine,coursingthroughmyveins,makingmyfistsclenchandunclench.Bloodwhooshedinmyears,andmybreathingquickened.
Hebrokeintomyfriggin’locker.
Withshakingfingers,IpulledthebookoutofVicious’sbackpack.“Youstolemytextbook?”Iturnedtofacehim,everymuscleinmyfacetense.
Thiswasanescalation.Bluntaggression.Viciousalwaystauntedme,buthe’dneverhumiliatedmelikethisbefore.He’dstolenmythingsandstuffedmylockerfullofcondomsandusedtoiletpaper,forChrist’ssake.
Oureyesmetandtangled.HepushedGeorgiaoffhislap,likeshewasaneagerpuppyhewasdoneplayingwith,andstoodup.Itookastepforward.Wewerenosetonosenow.
“Whyareyoudoingthistome?”Ihissedout,searchinghisblank,stonyface.
“BecauseIcan,”heofferedwithasmirktohideallthepaininhiseyes
What’seatingyou,BaronSpencer?
“Becauseit’sfun?”headded,chucklingwhilethrowingGeorgia’sjacketather.Withoutaglanceherway,hemotionedforhertoleave.
Shewasclearlynothingmorethanaprop.Ameanstoanend.He’dwantedtohurtme.
Andhesucceeded.
Ishouldn’tcareaboutwhyheactedthisway.Itmadenodifferenceatall.ThebottomlinewasIhatedhim.IhatedhimsomuchitmademesicktomystomachthatIlovedthewayhelooked,onandoffthefield.Hatedmyshallowness,myfoolishness,atlovingthewayhissquare,hardjawtickedwhenhefoughtasmile.IhatedthatIlovedthesmart,wittythingsthatcameoutofhismouthwhenhespokeinclass.HatedthathewasacynicalrealistwhileIwasahopelessidealist,andstill,Ilovedeverythoughtheutteredaloud.AndIhatedthatonceaweek,everyweek,myheartdidcrazythingsinmychestbecauseIsuspectedhemightbehim
Ihatedhim,anditwasclearthathehatedmeback.
Ihatedhim,butIhatedGeorgiamorebecauseshewastheonehe’dkissed.
KnowingfullwellIcouldn’tfighthim—myparentsworkedhere—Ibitmytongueandstormedtowardthedoor.Ionlymadeittothethresholdbeforehiscallusedhandwrappedaroundmyelbow,spinningmeinplaceandthrowingmybodyintohissteelchest.Iswallowedbackawhimper.
“Fightme,Help,”hesnarledintomyface,hisnostrilsflaringlikeawildbeast.Hislipswereclose,soclose.Stillswollenfromkissinganothergirl,redagainsthisfairskin.“Foronceinyourlife,standyourfuckingground.”
Ishookoutofhistouch,clutchingmytextbooktomychestlikeitwasmyshield.Irushedoutofhisroomanddidn’tstoptotakeabreathuntilIreachedtheservants’apartment.Swingingthedooropen,Iboltedtomyroomandlockedthedoor,ploppingdownonthebedwithaheavysigh.
Ididn’tcry.Hedidn’tdeservemytears.ButIwasangry,upsetandyes,alittlebroken.
Inthedistance,Iheardmusicblastingfromhisroom,gettinglouderbythesecondasheturnedthevolumeuptothemax.Ittookmeafewbeatstorecognizethesong.“StopCryingYourHeartOut”byOasis.
Afewminuteslater,IheardGeorgia’sredautomaticCamaro—theoneViciousconstantlymadefunofbecause,WhothefuckbuysanautomaticCamaro?—
gundownthetree-lineddrivewayoftheestate.Shesoundedangrytoo.
Viciouswasvicious.Itwastoobadthatmyhateforhimwasdippedinathinshellofsomethingthatfeltlikelove.ButIpromisedmyselfI’dcrackit,breakit,andunleashpurehatredinitsplacebeforehegottome.He
,Ipromisedmyself,willneverbreakme.
TenYearsAgo
ITWASTHESAMEOLDshit,differentweekend,atmyhouse.Iwasthrowinganotherballs-outpartyanddidn’tevenbothertoleavethemedia/gamingroomtohangoutwiththeassholesI’dinvited.
Iknewwhatkindofchaoswasteemingoutsidetheroom.Thesnickeringandscreaminggirlsinthekidney-shapedpoolatthebackofthehouse.ThegurglesoftheartificialwaterfallspouringoutoftheGreekarchesintothewaterandtheslapofrubber,inflatedmattressesagainstbare,wetskin.Thegroansofcouplesfuckinginnearbyrooms.Themean-assgossipofcliquescrashingontheplushloveseatsandsofasdownstairs.
Iheardmusic—LimpBizkit—andwhothefuckhadtheballstoplayLame
Bizkitatmyparty?
Icould’veheardalltheresttooifIwantedto,butIdidn’tlisten
.SprawledoutonmyWingLoungechairinfrontoftheTV,thighsopenwide,IsmokedabluntandwatchedsomeanimeJapaneseporno.
Therewasabeertomyright,butIdidn’ttouchit.
Therewasachickonherkneesbelowmyseat,onthecarpet,massagingmythighs,butIdidn’ttouchhereither.
“Vicious,”shepurred,inchingclosertomygroin.Sheslowlyclimbedup,straddlingmylap.
Atannamelessbrunetteinacome-fuck-medress.ShelookedlikeanAliciaorLucia,maybe.Triedtogetontothecheerleadingsquadlastspring.Failed.Myguesswasthispartywasherfirsttasteofpopularity.Hookingupwithme,oranyoneelseinthisroom,washershortcuttocelebritystatusatschool.
Forthatreasonalone,shewasofnointeresttome.
“Yourmediaroomisrad.Thinkwecangosomewherequieter,though?”
Itappedtheheadofmyblunt,theashfallingtoanashtrayonthearmofmychairlikeaflakeofdirtysnow.Myjawtwitched.“No.”
“ButIlikeyou.”
Bullshit.Nobodylikedme,andforgoodreason.
“Idon’tdorelationships,”Isaidonauto-pilot.
“Like,d’uh.Iknowthat,silly.Noharminhavingsomefun,though.”Shesnorted,anunattractivelaughthatmademehateherfortryingsohard.
Self-respectwentalongwayinmybook.
MyeyesnarrowedasImulledoverheroffer.Sure,Icouldlethersuckmydick,butIknewbetterthantobelieveherindifferentact.Theyallwantedsomethingmore.
“Youshouldgetoutofhere,”Isaid,forthefirstandlasttime.Iwasn’therdad.Itwasn’tmyresponsibilitytowarnheraboutguyslikeme.
Shepouted,linkingherarmsbehindmyneckandscootingupmythigh.Herexposedcleavagepressedagainstmychestandhereyesburnedwithdetermination.“I’mnotleavingherewithoutoneofyouHotHoles.”
Iarchedoneeyebrow,exhalingsmokethroughmynose,myeyeshoodedwithboredom.“ThenyoubettertryTrentorDean,’causeIain’tfuckingyoutonight,sweetheart.”
Alicia-Luciapulledaway,finallygettingthehint.Shesashayedtothebarwithafakesmile,thatcrumpledwitheverystepshetookinthosehighheels,andfixedherselfabullshitcocktailwithoutcheckingwhatliquorshepouredintothetallglass.Hereyeswereshinyasshescannedtheroom,tryingtofigureoutwhichoneofmyfriends—weweretheFourHotHolesofAllSaintsHigh—waswillingtobehertickettopopularity.
Trentwasslouchedonthecouchtomyright,half-sitting,half-lyingasarandomchickgrindingonhiscock,straddlinghimwithhershirtpulleddowntoherwaistandherbaretitsbouncingalmostcomically.Heputthebeerbottletohismouthanddickedaroundonhisphone,jaded.DeanandJaimesatonaloveseatontheotherside,arguingaboutnextweek’sfootballgame.Neitherofthemhadtouchedthegirlswe’dsummonedintotheroom.
Jaime,Iunderstood.HewasobsessingoverourEnglishteacher,Ms.Greene.Ididn’tapproveofhisnew,fucked-upfascination,butI’dneversayawordaboutittohim.Dean,ontheotherhand?Ihadnoideawhathisproblemwas.Whyhadn’thegrabbedanassandsprungintoactionlikehenormallydid.
“Dean,dude,where’syourpieceofpussyforthenight?”Trentechoedmythoughts,scrollinghisthumboverthewheelonhisiPod,surfinghisplaylist,lookingdesperatelyuninterestedinthechickhewasfucking.
BeforeDeancouldanswerhim,Trentpushedthegirlontopofhimawaymid-thrust,pattingherheadgentlyasshetumbledontothesofa.Hermouthwasstillopen,halfinpleasure,halfinshock.
“Sorry.Itain’thappeningformetonight.It’sthecast.”Hepointedhisbeerbottletohisbrokenankle,smilingapologeticallyathisfuckbuddy.
Outofthefourofus,Trentwasthenicest.
ThatsaidallanyoneneededtoknowabouttheHotHoles.
Theironicthingwas,Trenthadthemostreasontobespiteful.Hewasscrewed,andheknewit.Therewasnowayhewasgettingafullridetocollegewithoutfootball.Hisgradessuckedass,andhisparentsdidn’thavethemoneytopayfortheirrent,letalonehiseducation.HisinjurymeanthewasstayinginSoCalandpickingupsomeblue-collarworkifhewaslucky,slummingitupwiththerestofhisneighborhoodafterspendingfouryearswithusrichTodosSantoskids.
“I’mallright,man.”Dean’ssmilewaseasy,butthecontinuoustappingofhisfootwasnot.“Actually,Idon’twantyoutobeblindsidedbysomething.Youlisteningup?”Hegrinnednervously,straighteninghisposture.
Justthen,thedooropenedbehindme.Whoevercameindidn’tbothertoknock.Everyoneknewthisroomwasoff-limits.ThiswastheHotHoles’privatepartyspace.Theruleswereclear.Unlessinvited,youdidn’tcomein.
Thegirlsintheroomallstaredinthedirectionofthedoor,butIcontinuedsmokingweedandwishingLucia-Aliciawouldmovethefuckawayfromthebar.Ineededafreshbeerandwasn’tinthemoodfortalking.
“Whoa,hi.”Deanwavedtothepersonatthedoor,andIswearhiswholestupidbodysmiled.
Jaimenoddedacurthello,tensingupinhisseatandsendingmealookIwastoostonedtodecode.Trentswiveledhishead,gruntingingreetingtoo.
“Whoever’satthedoorbetterhaveafuckingpizzaandapussymadeofgoldiftheywannastay.”Iclenchedmyteeth,finallythrowingaglanceovermyshoulder.
“Hey,y’all.”
WhenIheardhervoice,somethingweirdhappenedinmychest.
Emilia.Thehelp’sdaughter.Whyisshehere?
Sheneverlefttheservants’apartmentwhenIthrewmyparties.Plus,shehadn’tglancedinmydirectionsincesheranoutofmyroomwithhercalcbooklastweek.
“Whogaveyoupermissiontocomehere,Help?”Isuckedmyblunt,inhaleddeeplyandpouredacloudofrancid,sweetsmokeintotheair,swivelingmychairtofaceher.
Herazureeyesglidedovermebrieflybeforelandingonsomeonebehindme.Herlipsbrokeintoatimidgrinatthesightofthatperson.Theraucousnoiseofthepartyfaded,andallIsawwasherface.
“Hey,Dean.”HergazedroppedtoherVans.
Herlongcaramelhairwasbraidedandflungoveroneofhershoulders.ShehadonboyfriendjeansandaDariashirtdeliberatelymismatchedwithanorangewooljacket.Hersenseofstylewasjuvenileandhorrid,andthebackofherhandwasstillinkedwithacherryblossomtreeshe’ddrawninEnglishLit,sowhythefuckwasshestillhotasshit?Didn’tmatter.Ihatedheranyway.Butherapparentdevotiontotryingnottobesexy,pairedwiththefactthatsheactuallywas
sexy,alwaysmademehardasstone.
ItoremygazefromhertoDean.Hesmiledbackather.Agoofysmirkthatbeggedformetobreakallofhisteeth
What.The.Fuck?
“Youtwobumpinguglies?”Jaimepoppedhisgum,askingthequestionIneverwould’ve,touslinghislongblondsurferhairwithhisfist.Hedidn’tgivetwoshitsbutknewitwassomethingthat’dinterestme.
“Jesus,man.”Deangotupfromhisseat,slappingthebackofJaime’sneckandsuddenlyactinglikesomekindofadecentguy.
Iknewhimtoowellnottorecognizethathewasn’tone.He’dfuckedsomanygirlsontheverysofahe’djustsatonthatitwaspermanentlyimprintedwithhisDNA.Weweren’tgoodguys.Weweren’tboyfriendmaterial,whateverthefuckthatmeant.Hell,weweren’teventryingtohideit.AndotherthanJaime,whowastalkingcrazy,plottinglikeacunningfreshmancheerleadertogettogetherwithMs.Greene,wedidn’tdomonogamy.
This—andonlythis—mademedislikethewholeDeanandHelpidea.Ihadenoughfuckingdramatodealwith.Ididn’twanttobetherewhenherheartbroke,inmyhouse.Shatteringonmyfloor
.Besides,asmuchasIdislikedHelp…shewasn’tforustodestroy.ShewasjustacountrygirlfromVirginiawithahugesmileandanannoyingaccent.HerpersonalitywaslikeafuckingMichaelBublésong.Soeasyandun-fucking-assuming.Imean,thegirlevensmiledatmewhenshecaughtmestaringintoherbedroomintheservants’apartmentlikeacreep.
Howstupidcouldapersonbe?
Itwasn’therfaultIhatedher.ForeavesdroppingonmeandDarylallthoseweeksago.Forlookingandsoundingexactlylikemystepmom,Jo.
“I’mgladyoucouldmakeit.Sorryyouhadtocomehere.Ididn’trealizeIwaslate.Thisisnoplaceforalady,”Deanjoked,grabbinghisjacketfromthearmoftheblackleathersofaandjoggingtothedoor.
Heflunghisarmoverhershoulder,andmylefteyelidticked.
Hebrushedastrandofhairthatfellfromherbraidbehindherear,andmyjawclenched.
“Hopeyou’rehungry.Iknowareallygoodseafoodplacebythemarina.”
Shegrinned.“Sure.Countmein.”
Helaughed,andmynostrilsflared.
Thentheyleft.
Theyfuckingleft.
Ituckedthebluntbackintothecornerofmymouth,swivelingbacktotheTV.Thewholeroomfellquietandalleyesweredirectedatmeforfurtherinstructions,andwhatthefuckwaseverybodysoupsetabout?
“Hey,you.”IpointedatthegirlwhoTrenthadthrownawaymid-fuck.Shewasfixingherhairinfrontofthemirrornexttomygamingrig.Ipattedmylaptwice.“Overhere,andbringyourfriend.”Ipinnedtheotheronewithmyeyes.ThegirlI’drejectedonlymomentsago.Goodthingshe’ddecidedtostickaround.
Withagigglinggirloneachleg,Itookahitofmyjoint,pulledthefirstgirl’shairsothatshewasfacingmeandpressedmylipstohers.Iexhaled,shotgunningthesmokeintohermouth.Shetookitallinwithanexcitedgasp.
“Moveitforward.”Ibrushedthebridgeofhernosewiththetipofmine,myeyesheavy.Shesmiledwithhermouthclosedandkissedtheothergirlonmylap,lettingthesmokeseepintohermouth.
TrentandJaimewatchedmethewholetime.
“They’reprobablyjustfuckbuddies,”Trentoffered,rubbinghishandoverhisshavedhead.“Ididn’thearaboutthisshituntiltonight,andDeancankeepasecretlikeIcankeepmypantsupataPlayboy-mansionparty.”
“Yeah,”Jaimechippedin.“It’sDean,dude.He’sneverhadaseriousgirlfriend.He’sneverhadaseriousanything
.”Standingup,heshoulderedintohisnavyletterjacket.“Anyway,Igottaheadout.”
Ofcourse.TopretendtobesomeloseronadatingsiteandspendthenightsextingMs.Greene.Iswear,ifIhadn’tseenhisdickinthelockerroom,I’dassumeJaimeactuallyhadapussy.
“ButI’mtellingyou,”headded,“don’toveranalyzeit.There’snowayinhellDean’ssettlingdown.He’ssetonNewYorkforcollege.You’restayingherewithher.Shedidn’tgetacceptedanywhere,right?”
Right.
Ontopofthat,Helphadn’tbaggedascholarshipsofar.Iknewthatbecausewesharedthesamemailbox,andIbrowsedthroughherenvelopestoseewherelittleEmiliaLeblancwasheadednext.Sofar,itlookedlikeshewasn’tgoinganywhere,muchtoherdismay.
IwasgoingtoabullshitcollegeinLosAngelesacoupleofhoursaway,andshewasstayinghere.Iwouldcomebackeveryotherweekend,andshe’dstillbehere.Cateringtome.
Servingme
Envyingme.
Shewasgoingtostaysmallandinsignificant.Uneducatedandopportunity-less.Andaboveall—mine.
“Ireallydon’tgiveafuck.”Ichuckled,grabbingboththegirls’asses,clutchingtheirsoftfleshasImovedthemtowardoneanother.
“Lickeachother’stitsforme.”Mytonewasflat.Theydidastheyweretold.Itwassoeasytogetthemtodoit,itdepressedthehelloutofme.
“Sowherewerewe?”Iaskedmyfriends.
Thegirlsandtheirtongueswereatwar.Theybeggedformyattentionliketwodogsfightingfortheirlivesinanundergroundfight.Theydidnothingforme,andnaturally,Iresentedthemforthat.
“Indeepdenial,apparently.Jesus.”Jaimeshookhishead,saunteringtothedoor.HeclaspedTrent’sshoulderonhiswayout.“Makesurethegirlsdon’tdoanythingtoostupid.”
“Youmeanlikehim?”Trentjerkedhisthumbtowardme.
Isquintedathim.Buthedidn’tcare.Hewasakidfromthehood.Nothingscaredhim,letalonemyrichmilkyass.
Therewasragebrimminginsideme.Soon,itwasgoingtooverflow.
Theyweresosuretheyknewme.SosureIwantedEmiliaLeBlanc.
“Fuckthisshit.I’mgoingdowntothepool.”Istoodupsuddenly,andthegirlscollapsed,eachofthemlandingonanarmofthechairwithasoftthud.
Oneofthemwhinedinprotest,andtheothershrieked,“Whatthehell!”
“Badhigh,”Iofferedasahalf-assedexplanation.
“Ithappens.”Thegirlwho’dfuckedTrentasecondagosmiledinunderstanding.
IwantedtobeattheshitoutoftheirdadsalmostasmuchasIwantedtoscrewupDaryl.Theiravailabilityrepulsedme.
“Areyougonnacallme?”Alicia-Luciatuggedonmyshirt.Hopeglitteredinhereyes.
Igaveheraslowonce-over.Shelookedgood,butnotasgoodasshethought.Thenagain,shewaseagertoplease,soprobablynottheworstlay.
I’dwarnedher.
She’drefusedtolisten.
AndIwasn’tagoodguy.
“LeaveyournumberonTrent’sphone.”Iturnedonmyheelandleft.
Inthehallway,peoplemadewayforme,gluingtheirbackstothewall,smilingandraisingtheirredSolocupstome,grovelinglikeIwasthefuckingpope.Andtothem—Iwas.Thiswasmykingdom.Peoplelovedmytypeofevil.ThatwasthethingaboutCalifornia,andthat’swhyIwouldneverleave.Ilovedeverythingotherpeoplehatedaboutit.Theliars,thepretenders,themasks,andtheplastic.Ilovedhowpeoplecaredaboutwhatwasinyourpocketandnotinyourfuckingchest.Ilovedthattheywereimpressedbyexpensivecarsandcheapwit.Hell,Ievenlovedtheearthquakesandbullshitvegetableshakes.
ThesepeoplewhoIhatedweremyhome.Thisplace—myplayground.
Murmursrosefromeverycornerofthehallway.Ididn’tusuallygracethesepeoplewithmypresence,butwhenIdid,theyknewwhy.Shitwasgoingtogodowntonight.Excitementfilledtheair.
“FellinLoveWithaGirl”byTheWhiteStripespoundedagainstthedarkwalls.
Ididn’tmakeeyecontactwithanyone.JuststaredaheadasIslicedthroughthethronguntilIreachedthestoragecellarunderthekitchen.Iclosedthedoorbehindme.Itwasquiet,dark,likeme.Ipressedmybackagainstthedoor,squeezedmyeyesshut,andtookadeepbreathofthedampair.
Damn,thatshitDeanbroughtinwas
strong.Iwasonlyhalf-lyingwhenIsaidthestuffwasbad.
Iwalkeddeeperintotheroom,mentallyslammingthedoorontherestoftheworld.OnDarylRyker.Josephine.Andevenonpeoplewhowereonlyhalf-villains,likeEmiliaandmydad.MyfingersbrushedtheweaponsonthewallIhadcollectedovertheyears.Ifingeredmycrowbar,dagger,baseballbat,andleatherwhip.Itoccurredtomethatoneday,hopefullysoon,Icouldgiveupthiscollection,whichIhadneverusedbutownedbecauseitmademefeelsafer.Mainly,havingthisshitmeantDaryldidn’tmesswithmeanymore.
Iwaslookingforaphysical,slow-buildingfight.Iwaslookingforexplosivepaincomingoutofnowhere.Inshort,Iwaslookingfortrouble.
WhenIclimbedbackupstairstotheoutdoorpool,empty-handed,Istoodovertheedge.Themoonlightlitmyreflectionagainsttheclearwater.Thepoolwasfullofpeopleinswimtrunksanddesignerbikinis.Myeyesroamedtheplace,searchingforDean.HewastheguyIwantedtofight.Tobreakhissmugboy-next-doorface.ButIknewhewasoutwithHelp,andbesides,ruleswererules.EvenIcouldn’tbendthem.TheminuteIsteppedouttherewithmysleevesrolleduptomyshoulders,Iinvitedwhoeverwantedtofightmetostepforward.ButIcouldn’taskanyonespecifically.Theyhadtovolunteer.ThatwasthedangerousgameweplayedatAllSaintsHightoburntime:Defy
Defywasfair.
Defywasbrutal.
Mostofall,Defydulledthepainandprovidedagreatexplanationformymarredskin.
Iwasn’tsurprisedwhenIheardthethumpofTrent’scastbehindme.HeknewhowfuckedupIwasandwantedtosavethenight.
“TellDeantodumpherassorIwill,”hesaidfrombehindmyback.
Ishookmyhead,sneering.“Hecandowhateverthefuckhewants.Ifhewantstobangthathillbilly,it’shisfuneral.”
“Vicious,”Trentwarned.
Iturnedaroundandsizedhimup.Hissmoothmochaskinshoneunderthefullmoon,andIhatedhimforhisabilitytoenjoytheoppositesexwithsuchcarelessness.Fuckingrandomchickswasgrowingoldtoofast.AndIwasn’teveneighteenyet.
“Thisshitwiththischickisgonnadrageveryonedownaverydarkpath.”Hetookoffhisshirt,exposinghishuge,rippedtorso.Hewasabulkybastard.
Asalways,Ikeptmyshirton.Peopleeyedusavidly,butI’dnevercaredabouttheseassholes.Theywantedtofilltheirmeaninglessexistencewithsomethingtotalkabout.Iwasonlytoohappytogiveittothem.
Icoiledmyfist,cockingmyheadsideways.“Aw,youcareaboutme.I’mfuckingtouched,T-Rex.”Iclutchedtheleftsideofmyblackteeabovemyheart,mockinghimwithafakesmile.
Georgiaandherairheadcrewwerewatchingusintently,waitingforthemonsterinmetopounceononeofmybestfriends.ImarchedpastTrent,myshoulderbrushinghis,trudgingtowardthetenniscourtwherewefoughtonmostweekends.Itwasbig,secluded,andspaciousenoughforthecrowdtotakeseatsononesideofourmakeshiftoctagon.
“Givemeyourworst,Rexroth,”Igrowled,tryingtocalmmyselfdown.TryingtoremindmyselfthatTrentandJaimewereright.DeanandHelpwerejustafling.They’dbebrokenupbytheendofthemonth.Hewasgoingtodumpher—hopefullywithhervirginitystillintact—hurtandangryandlookingforarebound.She’dbefragile,insecure,andvindictive.
Andthat’swhenIwasgoingtostrike.
That’swhenIwasgoingtoshowhershewasnothingmorethanmyproperty.
“Comeon,T.Moveyourinjuredasstothetenniscourt.Justtrynottobleedallovermyfuckinggrassafterwe’redone.”
One-ClickthebookHereTheysayittakesavillagetoraiseakidandwriteabook.Inourfast-pacedindieworld,itsometimesfeelslikeittakesawholecity.Maybeevencountry.Findingyourtribeisessential,andmakestakingthisjourneymorepleasantandless…well,frightening.
IwouldliketobeginbythankingBeccaHensleyMysoorandAvaHarrisonforthedailyphonecalls—Italkedyourearsoff.ThanksforlisteningandmakingWolfeandFrancescaeverythingIneededthemtobe.Andtomybetareaders,TijuanaTurner(x2,000,000times),SarahGrimSentz,LanaKart,AmyHalterandMelissaPanio-Petersen.Youladiesalwaysleaveapieceofyoursoulwithmymanuscripts.
Atthispointoftheacknowledgements,Ihaveyettosendittomybesties,HelenaHuntingandCharleighRose,butchancesare,bythetimethisisout,they’vereaditathousandtimesoverandlistenedtomyfreak-outsforhoursonend.Thankyou(andsorry).
ToElaineYorkandJennySimsforthefabulousediting:YouguysaretherealMVPs.ThankyouforalwaysbeingtherewhenIneedyou.Andtomyfabulous,glorious,GODDESS(yes,allcaps)designer,LetitiaHasseratRBADesigns.Iwantedsomethinguniqueandprettyandeye-catching.Youdelivered.Inspades.
Tomyformatter,StaceyBlakeatChampagneFormatting,whohastheabilitytomakeeverythingSOpretty.Also,hugethankstomyagent,KimberlyBroweratBrowerLiterary.
Finally,Iwouldliketothankmyhusbandandsonandparentsandbrother(andmysoon-to-besister-in-law!)forlovingmealmostasmuchasIlovethem.Andofcourse,tomystreetteam,mysecondfamily(takingadeepbreathtomakesureIdon’tleaveanyoneout):LinTahelCohen,AvivitEgev,GalitShmaryahoo,VanessaVillegas,Nadine(Bookaddict),SherMason,KristinaLindsey,BrittanyDanielleChristina,SummerConnell,NinaDelfs,BettyLankovits,VanessaSerrano,YaminaKirky,RatulaRoy,TriciaDaniels,JacquieCzechMartin,LisaMorgan,SophieBroughton,LeeannVanRoseburg,LucianaGrisolia,CheleWalker,AriadnaBasulto,TanakaKangara,VickieLeaf,HayfaahSumtally,SamanthaBlundell,AuroraHale,EricaBuddPanfile,SheenaTaylor,KeriRoth,AmandaS?derlund,andI’mprettysureIleftafewpeopleoutbecauseIalwaysdo(butneveronpurpose).
Oh,andtotheSassySparrows,myfiercereadinggroup!HowIloveyou,myquick-witted,supportive,good-heartedallies.
Andtoyou,myreaders,fortakingachanceonmybooks.ItwouldmeantheworldtomeifyoucouldtakeafewsecondsofyourtimetoleaveanhonestreviewandtellmewhatyouthoughtaboutTheKissThief.
Loveandkisses,
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