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WHO THE HELL DID HE think he was?
That’s the only thing I could focus on as I stomped down the beach that evening.
Who did he think he was, just turning up at my place like it was the most natural and obvious thing in the world? He needed to stay the fuck away from me. I wasn’t even bothering to keep an eye out for anyone who might have been following me, since I knew he had someone stalking me anyway. That would explain who my father had spotted before – he’d been all worked up over that for nothing, and the thought of him worrying over some shit that Andreas was pulling was enough to get me even more heated.
I went on a walk as soon as he left, needing some fresh air, something to wash my mind clean of what had just happened. He really thought he could just walk into my life and tell me how it was going to be? Didn’t he get it? I had left because I didn’t want anything to do with him, not because I was just politely waiting for him to tell me how it was going to be. I wasn’t playing by his rules anymore, hadn’t for a long time, actually. I had been here nearly two months, and still, he acted like he could just pull me out when he saw fit. Who the hell did he think he was?
Even as that question played at the back of my mind, I knew the answer to it. It wasn’t who he thought he was, it was who he actually was – the head of a powerful crime family, one who had ties all over the country. The kind of man who was best not fucked with.
Which was why he thought he could just walk into my life. Because nobody had ever told him no before, and with good reason. People were smart enough to realize that you didn’t fuck with a man like him, that you didn’t push too hard to get what you wanted if it got in the way of what he did. I should have gotten it already, but there was a part of me that I didn’t want to acknowledge it, that was still stubborn as hell and refused to give him the satisfaction of thinking he’d won.
The question was, of course, how much of the truth he was telling. He had seemed pretty worried when he had turned up at our door, and I was inclined to believe that he had good reason for it. But that didn’t mean I was going to drop everything to run off with him. He was telling me that the Serbs had something out for me, but I doubted it – they had worked with my father before, and I couldn’t imagine that they’d have much interest in making trouble with me. We were small fry, compared to what they normally dealt with, and I had a hard time believing that they were, in any way, interested in people like us.
But maybe there was something going on that I didn’t know about. My father had seemed pretty freaked a few days ago, and perhaps he was holding something back, trying to protect me. I had no idea what to expect from him, but I hoped that he could trust me enough to see that I could handle hearing about this crap.
I was tired of being left in the dark. And even more tired of being told what to do. Miami was meant to be a fresh start for us, but all of the same problems had followed us here from day one, it seemed. I was sick of it. When was I going to get away from this? And when, in the name of holy hell, was I finally going to be able to forget about Andreas?
Seeing him right there in front of me, so soon after I had orgasmed thinking about him, had been enough to freak me out. It was like I had managed to think about him hard enough to summon him in front of me. And he had seemed frantic, desperate to get me out of there, no matter how much I tried to tell him that I didn’t want to go.
I had pulled my arm out of his grasp the moment he had touched me, but it had been nothing to do with not wanting to feel his fingers on my skin. No, it had been because I knew I couldn’t contain my want for him if he had his hands on me. I needed him, even now, and that physical desire was getting in the way of the logical part of my brain that knew better than to let him get to me. I hated that it had been so easy for him, so easy for him to just touch me and remind me without a shadow of a doubt how badly I wanted him, how badly I needed him. Did he have any idea, the effect he had on me? Did I have that effect on him? I wished I could have asked, but anything other than insistence that he get out would have been seen as an invitation for him to stay.
I wasn’t going back to New York. Because if I did, I was going to have to take a side. If I sided with the Serbs, I got the feeling that Andreas would make it nigh-on impossible for me to get a job anywhere, or do anything worthwhile with my life. And if I sided with the Italians, with Andreas, then I would be in serious trouble from the people who thought that they could count on my family’s support.
And the Serbians had burned down that club. They might do worse to me, or my father, if we didn’t fall in line with them. Was it true that they had sent someone down here to keep an eye on us both? I glanced over my shoulder nervously, wondering if whoever had been sent to stalk me was there right now, wondering if I should be more worried than I was in that moment. I had no clue what I was looking for – some man in a dark suit skulking in the shadows, perhaps – but one thing I was certain of was that I was fucking done with having to look over my shoulder and fear for someone watching me when I was trying to live my life.
I hated this. Hated the way that it made me feel – so helpless, as though I didn’t have a choice in the way any of it went. All of this had started because I was trying to find a way out of my father’s debt, and now, it seemed like we were buried even deeper under the weight of everything than we had been before. When were we going to be free of it? When was this going to be over? That’s all I could focus on, and I had no clue when I was going to be able to come out the other side and feel like I had a life of my own once and for all.
I turned to head back up the beach. I needed to get some rest. It was late at night, and I wanted nothing more than to curl up under the covers and do my best to forget everything that had happened today.
As I made it back on to our street, I flicked my eyes this way and that. I hated feeling paranoid, but it wasn’t as though I had much of a choice, with the way that everything had been going. I couldn’t see anyone suspicious, and there was no sign of Andreas, which was a relief.
Well. I was pretty sure of it, anyway. I wanted to be able to forget about him, I really did, I wanted to be able to pretend I had never thought about him since I had left, but I was sure everyone could see through that entirely. I desired him, even still, even though I wanted to forget about him more than anything. And seeing him again had stirred up these feelings inside I couldn’t deny – that I didn’t want to, either. I needed to forget about this man, but every time I tried, something emerged to make it impossible for me to pretend that he wasn’t the only thing that I was thinking about.
I pushed my key into the lock, and headed up the stairs. As soon as I stepped over the threshold, I could smell something in the air – something floral, something heavy and perfumed. I followed the scent up the stairs towards our apartment, and I tried to ignore the nagging feeling at the back of my mind that told me that I should be more cautious.
When I turned the corner and saw what was there waiting for me, I gasped. Leaning against the door was the biggest bouquet of roses I had ever seen in my life – they were gorgeous, a variety of colors, pinks and whites and reds all mixed together, and bound with a golden ribbon.
I knew that only one person could have left these, would have thought to leave a gift as thoughtful as this, and I could hardly keep the smile off of my face as I headed towards them to check them out. Sure enough, there was a little tag attached to them, a note with my name on it. I tugged it off and lifted it so that I could get a better look.
“Forgive me for upsetting you,” it read. “Answer my call tomorrow. We can talk then. Properly. A X”
I couldn’t help but smile at the sight of those words in front of me. I knew I shouldn’t give him an inch, but there was a part of me that wanted to indulge him, wanted to make sure that I could hear his voice again. I had no idea what to expect, not really, but at the same time – at the same time, I knew that I had to talk this out with him.
And my body was telling me, in all the ways that it was able, that indulging him a little more was just what I needed to keep myself sane.
