Always at First Page 10

  “Understandable. You’re running an empire.” His tone holds an underlying of resentment.

  My eyes slant, being thrown off our warm welcome, but I shake it off.

  “Let’s go to the bar down the street,” I suggest.

  There’s nothing like laying your secrets on the table when you’re drunk. And Marcus should be drunk because I can’t handle his face filling with pity for me when he finds out my empire is the mailroom of an investment firm.

  “Sure,” he agrees.

  The walk to the bar is slow, dragging with awkward silence. We have five years of catching up, but no clue where to start.

  The bar is empty, just a man sitting by himself at one of the booths nursing a beer. Marcus and I take a seat at the table furthest away from the door and close enough to the flat screen—a wanted distraction for the much needed breaks we’ll need after the hard hitting subjects are discussed.

  We order shots of hard liquor and beers.

  “I’m going to ask Ellie to marry me,” Marcus starts off our conversation with a smile. “I came here to ask you to be my best man.”

  Don’t make me go back. Not yet.

  Marcus laughs. “The wedding is being held in Italy at my brother’s palace.” He laughs again.

  Relief is all I feel as I move our conversation along. “I’m happy for you, man. I can’t believe you’re still with her.”

  “Yeah, she got pregnant right after you moved here,” he says with a low voice, his smile dropping slightly. “Hardest fucking thing ever, raising a child, but I can’t imagine my life without my son.”

  “Shit,” I mouth and lean forward. “Why didn’t you call me?”

  “You had a lot going on and I just didn’t want to pile my life onto yours. In the beginning, I was an asshole to Ellie. I’m glad I didn’t call you during that time. It was bad. I was at a bad place.”

  I lean back and rest my elbow behind me on the back of the chair. “Man, I wish you had called me. Is there anything I can do to help you now?”

  “There is.” He pauses and takes a deep breath. “I need help starting a business.”

  I drop my elbow and sit up, all ears. “What are you thinking of?”

  “Anything. Something that will make me enough money to take care of Ellie and my son. Anything to get Roman off my back.”

  “What is your brother up to now?” I ask, anger lighting up within me. Roman is always on my shit list, even though we’ve never met, but I’ve heard enough to never be able to like the guy.

  “He’s still pushing me to join the family business, and now that I have a family to take care of, he’s relentless.”

  “Tell me again why you let him bully you around when you’re the older one?” I sigh, aggravated.

  “That’s my life. My younger brother is more successful and a bigger bully than I am.”

  My mind wanders to the first day I met Marcus.

  He was in sixth grade, and I was in second. I was picked on until I took a bottle of water and sloshed the content all over the front of his jeans. Later, I started the rumor that he’d pee’d his pants. The bulling stopped right after. Marcus finally witnessed the humiliation that comes from being bullied. We became friends after that.

  Our drinks arrive and I down a shot. “Why don’t you fight back?” I say burping.

  “There’s no fighting back,” He drops his voice. “Roman is a Capo. I have to listen.”

  I take another shot and remind myself to Google Capo when I get home.

  “I don’t give a shit if he’s a Cappro,” I burp again.

  “Keep your voice down,” he says through his teeth and take a shot.

  I laugh. “So, back to the topic of business. What do you want me to help you with?”

  Marcus becomes quiet and looks to the ground. “You know, never mind. I can’t ask you for what I need.”

  I take another shot and put on my serious face. “Stop being a bitch and tell me what you need.”

  He lifts his head, eyes filled with desperation. “I’ll pay you back, with interest. All of it.”

  Shit. He better not say an amount I can’t give.

  “How much?”

  “Two hundred thousand.”

  I blow out hot air, relieved. “Okay,” I nod.

  Marcus narrows his eyes, his nose flaring. And now there’s pride.

  “That’s it? You’re not even going to think about it first?”

  “Hey,” I raise my hand in surrender. “You’re my best friend. I would lend you all the money I have, if you needed it.”

  “I’m sorry.” He sighs. “It doesn’t feel good when you’re struggling and people around you have money to hand out.”

  “I’m not just any people and I don’t hand out money to just anyone…and back the fuck up…struggling? What happened to the bouncer gig?”

  “Roman, took the job away from me and all my money. He wants me to break and give in, butI don’t want to become what he is.”

  “Your brother is a lovable guy,” I say sarcastically before I down the last shot.

  Marcus laughs and takes a pull of beer from the bottle.

  “I have a plan. Trust me?” I ask.

  “Yeah, man. I do.”

  “Okay, I’ll wire the money to your account. Use the money to live, you don’t have to pay me back.” I raise my hand, stopping him from saying anything. “I’m planning to start a new business and I want you to start the same type of business over there, simultaneously. I will front you the startup cash, but I will own sixty percent of yours. Deal?”

  Marcus grins, showing his teeth. “Now I know why you’re so successful. You’re a fucking con artist. I bust my ass, while you sit back and reap the benefits.”

  “Exactly.” I grin too. “But look at all the money I’m putting in.”

  “Yeah, asshole. You’ll make that back in six months, then continue to take my hard earn cash.”

  “Exactly,” I repeat, my smile not leaving my face.

  “Deal,” he agrees, his face serious. “I don’t know how to thank you. You could give me just five percent and I would still feel blessed.”

  I smile warmly, unaware that I am sabotaging his life in the future. That the company, I help him build will be his downfall and his brother’s gain.

  Present

  I walk past the foyer and into the kitchen, unaware of anyone else. I stop as the sight before me sends a chill down my body.

  Andres is perched on a bar stool, his arm resting on the kitchen island, his hand pressing a frozen bag of vegetables to his face.

  “I could kill you right now and no one would be the wiser. I’ll just tell Boss you ran away,” he mumbles, eyes closed.

  I cringe and step backwards. “He’ll kill you for letting me get away,” I say, backing into a wall as I cautiously watching him.

  “It’ll be worth it.”

  Andres pushes himself off the bar stool, suddenly in my face as the frozen bag of vegetables falls to the floor with a thump. My eyes instantly shoot to his severely bruised ones.

  “Scared?” He chuckles menacingly.

  “No,” I gasp, pushing myself harder against the wall.

  “The funny thing is, Angel…you should be. No one’s here to protect you.”

  I try not to waver my focus, but the exhaustion I felt early takes over my body and I slump to the wood floor.

  “Shit!” Andres bends down and has me in his arms within seconds. He carries me to the couch, lying me awkwardly on top of it.

  I look up and catch the pain and panic written all over his face. I laugh sadly. I don’t need to see that the monster in front of me has feelings. I look away. “What happen to the tough guy?”

  He huffs. “Wouldn’t you go on a killing spree if someone did this to your face?” He points to his eye.

  Trepidation comes over me. I glance back and see everything I wish I didn’t see in his eyes. “What did you do to Kevin?” I ask, my heart sinking into my stomach.

  “
I did what needed to be done,” he tells me calmly before turning to walk away from me.

  A reaction from me surges forward.

  A reaction that could possible mean an end to my life.

  I pick up the heavy glass bookend on the coffee table and hurl it at him. I miss and I cry out, angry with myself. He rushes me, pinning me to him and lifting me up. I thrash and try to push away from him, screaming until I give up. He carries my limp body up the stairs to an unfamiliar room, then tosses me onto the bed. He leaves, shutting me inside like a prisoner as I hear the dreadful turn of the lock.

  No!

  I scramble to the door and yank on the knob, it doesn’t budge. There’s nothing else for me to do but to hit my fist against the door repeatedly. I wail out his name until my body gives up, sliding down to the wood floor.

  “Help,” I whisper, crying softly. “Help me.”

  I ache for Kevin.

  I ache for what we could have been.

  I ache for my unborn child.

  I ache for a normal life.

  I sob until my eyes burn from my tears…

  Until my body is exhausted…

  Until the sense of time escapes me…

  I hug my knees to my chest, letting the darkness of the room sooth my agony. A sheer sense of hope comes over me when I hear the click of the lock. The door opens, hitting my lifeless body.

  “The fuck?” Andres’s voice attacks my calm and I recoil, scooting away from the door.

  He steps in. “What the hell are you doing on the floor?” He groans and bends down to carry me back to the bed. I let him; there’s no fight left in me.

  After he lies me down on the bed, he leaves, but doesn’t shut the door, letting my freedom tease me. I listen until his footsteps fade away, then I roll out of bed and dash to the master bedroom.

  I lock the door once I’m safely inside. My heart is hammering in my chest as trepidation crawls up my spine. What if he has a key to the room?

  I reach for the phone and press a colored key, hoping it connects to Roman’s phone. He picks up on the first ring.

  “Angel, is everything okay?” he murmurs, wind blowing in the background.

  “When are you coming back?” I ask in a hurry.

  “Soon, my love.”

  “Andres—”

  “Baby, hold on.”

  There’s a pause, then the sound of the phone rusting around and a faint male voice comes through. “She’s not eating again.”

  The blood in my veins runs cold, chilling me to my bones. He still has her.

  “Roman?”

  Mumbling is all I hear before the line is disconnected. I drop the phone and stare ahead of me. My mind is blank, unable to piece together my emotion to the reality of my life. She’s still there against her will.

  I pick the phone back up and press the colored button again. The call goes to voicemail. I hang up and call him again—straight to voicemail. I hurl the cordless phone across the room.

  The turn of the lock on the door comes to me vaguely, a distant threat. I turn to face the person I should be afraid of as the door creaks and he steps in with a tray of food. One hand balances the tray as his other is lifted in surrender.

  I frown, unsure of what to think as my heart races, anticipating his next move.

  “Hey there, frightened kitty. I’m here just to bring you food.” He’s on guard, watching me through his peripheral vision as he walks over to the nightstand. He sets the tray down and both hands are up as he steps backwards towards the door and out to the hallway.

  I heave out air, the racing of my heart slowing to calm beats and the dancing thoughts of him tackling me then tying my body to the bed leave my mind.

  My body yearns for the food, so I silently thank the man who has the brutal privilege to harm me in boundless ways. I am alone.

  I climb back on the bed and make myself comfortable. This soft haven will be my home until Roman gets back. I take the tray of food and place it on my lap before I eat the salmon and rice, leaving nothing on the plate. I place the tray on the nightstand, then relax back onto the pillows. My hands tenderly caress my belly, and happiness replaces the fear and abandonment that’s coursing through my veins.

  I relax further onto the pillows letting myself enjoy this quiet moment with my growing child inside of me. My mind unable to settle, I stay awake, waiting for Roman’s phone call. The starry night shifts as I waited in anticipation, turning to the beautiful dawn colors of the early morning that seep through the opening space of the curtains, letting me know another day has passed.

  I move my tired body off the bed to use the bathroom, then weakly walk out of the room. As I descend the stairs, that familiar, dull ache rises within me, and I stop to catch my breath. I miss him. That intense longing I have for Kevin will never die, and I’m afraid that it will kill me.

  I take a few more deep breaths to somehow temporarily release me of my misery before taking the rest of the stairs down to the kitchen. I stop as my eyes land on Roman; I’m not surprised he’s here.

  He’s on the phone, his back to me as he stares at his snow covered backyard. Today he’s dressed in regular jeans and a forest-green polo shirt. As always, he’s breathtaking and oozing confidence, throwing me off balance. My steps teeter and the urge to question him dies off. He will consume me and make me forget that I ever wanted to leave him just as he has done time and time again. I turn back around towards the stairs, needing to escape him and the truth.

  “Angel, come here,” he commands.

  I stop and turn back around, expecting the worst. He holds out his hand for me to take, and I do. “What was the guy in the background talking about, when our call got disconnected?”

  His face is blank.

  “Answer me, Roman! Tell me who he was talking about! Who isn’t eating?”

  As my last word leaves my mouth, a feeling of fathomless regret washes over me. I look away, but he jerks me forward and roughly presses my body against him. My head falls backwards and my mouth dries as a shiver runs through me.

  “It’s time I show you what happens when I’m questioned. You will learn to obey me. This will be the last time you step out of your place, my sweet Angel,” he seethes, nostril flaring.

  My lips part, my pulse pounding as I steel myself for what’s to come.

  “Now, I need you to go back upstairs and choose something to wear for dinner. We’re going out with one of the firm’s best client and right after we are stopping at the nightclub. His wife loves to dance. I need you to dress appropriately. I will be up to check on what you chose.” He releases me and I can’t take my eyes off of him, nor can I step away.

  “Is there something else you need?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.

  “No.” I shake my head and turn away from him.

  He grabs my arm and hauls me back, his grip lethal as he wrenches my wrist up to hover near his chin.

  “Where is your ring?” he snarls.

  “I…it’s in my pocket. I took it off because it was getting caught on my sweater,” I stammer, my already overwrought nerves turn haywire.

  “This will be the last time it is off your finger,” he warns.

  “Yes,” I pant.

  “You have an hour.” He releases me again.

  This time, I leave quietly back to the room and stand in the walk-in closet, staring at the blur of clothes. My eyes catch an emerald colored dress and a flash of memory comes back to me.—Kevin. I was with him. I walk over to the dress and run my hands over the soft lace. A warmth blooms in my chest as images of Kevin hugging me, protecting me from my destructive-self flash in my mind. He was there all along.

  I strip out of my clothes, and shrug on the dress, desperately needing to feel close to Kevin again. As I stare at myself in the full-length mirror, I rub my hands along the lacy dress, wanting Kevin’s hands on me instead. I choke back that painful lump in my throat, always threatening to bring my sadness to the surface as I turn around to check out the back of th
e dress in the mirror. There’s a big cut, showing my whole back and covering just enough of the top of my ass. I turn around, rubbing the sleeve of the dress which cover my arms down to my wrist. I close my eyes and wrap my arms around myself, imagining Kevin’s arms holding me. Calmness and peace come over me and I smile, unaware Roman has entered the closet.

  A soft brush of a finger on my exposed skin jolts my eyes open. My hands immediately go to my chest to still my rapid beating heart. “You scared me,” I whisper, staring at him in the mirror.

  “I didn’t mean too.” He wraps his arm around my waist and pulls me to him. “You’re breathtaking,” he murmurs, kissing the top of my shoulder blade. “I can hardly wait to bring you back home and watch you lose yourself as you come, all while wearing this dress.”

  No! Please don’t taint my memory of Kevin.

  I move away from Roman and pull the dress off of me, gently hanging it back up, then pulling on shorts and a tank top.

  “I’ve arranged for someone to come and help you get ready,” he tells me as he turns to leave. “And Angel?”

  “Yes?” I answer softly.

  “I don’t want you wearing any underwear under that dress.”

  My breath hitches as I watch him walk away.

  Past ~ 23 years old

  I look around the large banquet room and stumble, trying to get my bearings as I wait for Marcus to walk in.

  "Man, you're wasted. Are you going to be able to function properly for the rest of the night?" He laughs.

  "Just keep me away from Angel and everything will be fine," I tell him and walk away towards the crowd of people. Blending in and avoiding Daniel and Angel like the plaque is needed to keep my explosive emotions at bay. Anything could set me off right now. Damn the alcohol.

  The after dinner party celebration is underway; the older clients have already dispersed and all the people who are left are under the age of thirty except for Daniel and his wife, the hosts who are staring right at me as I walk by them.