Dirty, Page 2

  Miguel looks over at me and his eyes shout approval. My father smiles up at Dino as Vito nods in agreement. “Of course. But try not to be too long. We still have much to discuss.”

  Not given much of a choice, I stand and smooth down my black dress. Taking my hand, Dino places it in the crook of his elbow, leading me away. We walk slowly, comfortable in our silence, and I’m surprised to find myself feeling completely safe walking next to this man, this dangerous man. As he opens the door for me, I step outside. He motions for me to sit at one of the outside tables, and I do as I’m told.

  I always do as I’m told.

  Dino sits and watches me closely. “You haven’t said a word. Not one.”

  I shrug. What does he want me to say?

  His eyes soften. “I know this isn’t easy. Believe me, I threw a shit fit when my father told me what he wanted me to do.” He scoffs. “I mean, c’mon, I’m only twenty-five. I don’t want to get married.” This makes my chest pang. “And for some reason, I don’t think you want to either.”

  I find my voice. “I don’t.”

  He smiles warmly. “Please, don’t spare my feelings or anything.”

  I can’t help it. I dip my chin to hide my smile, but he catches it. “Would you look at that?” He chuckles before sobering. “You’re very pretty, Alejandra. Gorgeous, actually.”

  My face heats quickly as my heart beats faster.

  Dino reaches over the table, taking my hand. I look up into his eyes. He asks quietly, “Do you think you can give me a chance? I’d like to try.” He pauses a moment. “We have to try.”

  He’s right. We have to.

  And it could be worse. I mean, he’s attractive and charming and funny, and he seems to like me.

  Averting my eyes, I tangle my fingers through his and whisper, “Yes.” I swallow hard. “I-I want to try.”

  Dino stands and wraps his arms around me, holding me tight. My sudden surprise is pushed aside as I realize I need the comfort as much as he does. I gently snake my arms around his middle, resting my head against his chest, clutching at him for support, finding security in the soft beating of his heart. He kisses the top of my head. “I know this isn’t an ideal situation, but I think we can make it work. We know how our families are. We know what they expect of us. I’d like to be your friend.” He pulls back. “I think—” He clears his throat. “I think I could love you. I think we could come to love each other.”

  My throat thickens. I try to speak, but all that comes out is a pained grunt. Lowering my face, wetness trails my cheeks.

  I’m scared.

  I hate myself for crying. But Dino doesn’t.

  Lifting my chin, he shushes me, kissing my cheek. “Bella, don’t cry. Please don’t cry.” Before I know what’s happening, his lips cover mine. As quickly as he kisses me, he pulls away, holding me once again. I grip at his shirt, crying. He mutters, “Don’t worry, Alejandra. I’ll keep you safe.”

  His words calm me.

  Like I said… It could be a lot worse.

  Fast-forward six years…

  My stomach presses into the mattress. Fingers dig into my hips, holding me down. I breathe rapidly through my nose, fighting the pain. Biting into the pillow to stop myself from crying out, I think back to my grandmother’s advice as my husband masturbates on the sofa, smirking at my tear-streaked face while watching his brother rape me.

  The worse they treat a girl usually means the more they like them.

  If that is the case, my husband must really love me.

  He must love me to death.

  Phoenix, Arizona.

  “All I’m saying is that we’d be better off.”

  I look over at Ling from the driver seat. My brow furrows. “What’s this we shit?”

  She rolls her eyes, and it forces a smile out of me. It’s so easy to rile her. A look of irritation crosses her face. “We are partners, Jules.”

  My lip curls. “Don’t call me Jules.”

  It’s her turn to grin. “But it suits you so well.” I glare at her, and she chuckles. “All right. I won’t call you Jules anymore.”

  “Or any of your stupid nicknames.”

  She nods, but turns to hide her sultry smirk. “Or any of my stupid nicknames.”

  We drive in silence a long while before Ling speaks through a yawn. I don’t blame her. We’ve been driving for two hours, after a thirteen-hour-long flight from Sydney, Australia. We’re officially running on fumes. She reaches up to cover her mouth as she drowses. “So where are we staying?”

  Ling has worked with me now for four years.

  Losing Twitch was hard on her. She was so lost beforehand that losing him pushed her over the edge. She wanted to be as far away from the warehouse as possible, as far away from reminders of Twitch as she possibly could be. Not to mention, she didn’t exactly see eye to eye with Lexi.

  Within a year of Twitch’s passing, Happy and I shut the warehouse down. Not that we had a choice. After the asshole left us, business started failing. The feds were weighing in on us, watching us, and listening in, hiding behind every street corner. Twitch’s death brought unwanted attention our way. It just wasn’t worth the risk anymore.

  The asshole. He fucked up everything we’d worked for. Luckily, the money we had stashed away was more than enough for us.

  Fuck.

  It was more than enough to support our children’s children’s children. Then Happy went and sold the mansion, and all traces of Twitch were gone. All traces, that is, except one.

  Little AJ. Antonio Julius. Antonio Junior.

  A smile slowly spreads across my face as I think about him.

  When we found out Lexi was pregnant, it shocked us. Twitch was never that careless, and although we liked Lexi, honestly, I never thought she’d let something like that happen. She seemed so in control, not at all reckless.

  Then again, Twitch had a way of disarming even the most composed of people. It was his gift.

  Ling hated Lexi for a long time. She didn’t have to say the words out loud, but we all knew that Ling wanted that baby, felt she deserved that baby. Three months into the pregnancy, Lexi was rushed to hospital.

  I’d immediately thought the worst.

  Happy called me and told me to get my ass down there. So I did. I boarded the next plane to Sydney, and when I arrived, what I saw before me will haunt me for the rest of my life.

  Lexi was almost skeletal. She looked as if she hadn’t eaten in months.

  Nikki sat beside her hospital bed, holding her hand and pleading with her to eat something, tears flowing down her cheeks, petrified for her friend.

  We all were.

  Happy turned to me then, and he whispered, “The baby’s gonna die.”

  A statement. No question. His words were a declaration.

  I’m sure we all thought it, but hearing them out loud was something different. Something real. It did something to me, urged me on. I wasn’t about to let that happen.

  That baby was the last trace of my best friend.

  So I stayed. I sat by the hospital bed for an entire month, leaving only to shower and change clothes. In that time, I spoke of Twitch, and although Lexi’s eyes remained dead, I knew I had her attention. A week of the nurses threatening her with an intravenous feeding tube and my non-stop chatter, Lexi started to eat again.

  The following week, Lexi spoke. She turned to me, her gaunt face causing immeasurable amounts of pain in my soul. Her voice hoarse, she placed a hand on her belly, and asked, “Did you ever meet his mom?”

  I shook my head. “No, baby. She wasn’t a good mother. I’m glad I never met her.”

  Her throat moved as she blinked through tears. She clutched at her belly harder, her fingers curling around the material of her nightgown. “I’m not a good mother either.”

  I watched the tears trail her cheeks with a heavy heart. “Do you want this baby?”

  Her mouth opened, but no words formed. After trying again and again, she finally managed, “I
don’t know.”

  There was a sure way I’d know if she wanted this baby. It was cruel, but I had to do it. I had to know. I sighed quietly. “Okay. I know a guy. I’ll talk to him.”

  Lexi blinked. “What?”

  I shrugged. “I’m not judging, Lexi. I know you’re past the recommended termination date, but, like I said, I know I guy.” I touched her hand. “It’ll be like the baby never existed.”

  She pulled away as though my words physically burned her. Her chest heaved, face furious, eyes wild, and she whispered in a deadly calm, “Like the baby never existed?”

  I could’ve smiled then. I wanted to, but I didn’t. Instead, I raised a brow. “Or adoption. Whichever.”

  Hugging herself tight, she’d let out a hoarse, “No.” Then louder, “No! This is my baby.” Then quieter, and a thousand times more pained, “This is my baby. Our baby. This is all I have left of him.”

  Enough was enough. I reached forward and lifted her chin till her eyes met mine. “If you want this baby, prove it.” Her eyes changed then, turned softer, and I saw fear. But as far as I was concerned, fear was better than resignation. I shook her chin lightly. “You gotta live now. If not for yourself, then for your baby. This baby is a gift, but you gotta earn it, Lex. I know Twitch isn’t around, but your baby needs you.” At the mention of my best friend, Lexi lost whatever small amount of strength she’d stockpiled. Sobbing quietly, her body turned weak under my touch. I pushed a little harder. “Your baby doesn’t have a daddy. It needs its momma.” I released her then, and she fell back into the pillows on the sterile, uncomfortable hospital bed. Her soft, keening cry was a knife to my gut, mainly because I knew she hadn’t the energy to cry harder. I took hold of her small, cold hand and held it between mine. I rubbed it, trying desperately to warm her. “Can you do that, Lex? Can you look after yourself, make sure your baby has someone he can depend on?”

  Suddenly, she lifted her gaze to mine, blinking sluggishly, before asking a hushed, “Do you think it’s a boy?” Her free hand started to move over her small baby bump. “I think it’s a boy, too. I have from the second I found out.”

  I took this as a good sign. No woman who wanted to abort a pregnancy wanted to talk about the smaller things. I smiled softly, warmly. “I do, baby. I think you got a little man in there.” My smile turned into a grin. “And knowing Twitch and his hard-ass way, he’ll look just like him. Poor boy won’t have a choice.”

  A wisp of a smile lit Lexi’s face. “And if it’s a girl?”

  I clicked my tongue. “A plague on you, woman. If you have a little girl in there, looking half as pretty as its momma…” I leaned back in my chair and blew out a long, hard breath while shaking my head. “Shit. It’s enough to give a man nightmares. Lucky Twitch won’t be around to witness her first date.”

  The second those words left my mouth, I wanted to take them back. To consume them while they were still in the air. My stomach clenched as anxiety filled me. I felt like a grade-A moron.

  But to my surprise, Lexi’s half smile flourished into a smile I hadn’t seen since before Twitch had gone. She laughed through her nose a second before letting out a sigh. “It’s nice to talk about him. Everyone is so scared to talk about him. Sometimes I think he was just a figment of my imagination.”

  I pursed my lips. “There’s nothing wrong with speaking of the dead.”

  She reached for me with a shaking hand. I met her halfway, taking it eagerly, basking in her sudden contact. We stayed in the position a while before her fingers tightened in mine. “Julius?”

  My voice scratchy from exhaustion, I blinked, then asked, “What is it, baby?”

  Her whispered words sounded more like a plea than a question. “Will you make sure the baby knows about him? The good things?”

  That was the exact moment I knew Lexi would be okay. Relief flowed through me. “Yeah, Lex. I can do that.”

  “Earth to Julius. Uh, hello? Anyone in there?” Ling’s voice brings me back to the present.

  “What?”

  Her perfectly shaped brow rises into an arch. “Are you feeling okay? Maybe we should find a closer motel for the night.”

  I shake my head. “No, I’m good. Just got caught up in my head.”

  Sarcasm laces her voice. “A dangerous place to be.”

  I huff out a laugh. “You have no idea, girl.”

  Concentrating on the road when you’re tired is hard. What’s harder is concentrating while feeling perfectly manicured nails trail up your leg. My voice low in warning, I growl, “Ling.”

  She replies a sullen, pouting, “I’m hungry.”

  Taking her hand and placing it on her own leg, I utter, “Nothin’ to eat where you’re looking.”

  I hear her smile when she speaks low and sultry. “I can think of something that might satisfy me.”

  My only response is to sigh and shake my head, hoping to God she doesn’t notice the tightness behind the zipper of my jeans.

  Whether I like it or not, Ling is a beautiful woman. Fucked up as they come, but beautiful.

  Sighing herself, she looks out the window, and complains quietly, “You never want to play with me.”

  A startled laugh escapes me. “Four years later, and you still haven’t figured that out. I don’t shit where I sleep, Ling Ling.” I chance a look over at her. “Besides, I don’t play your particular variety of games.”

  Her almond-shaped brown eyes find mine, and although she doesn’t smile, her eyes do. “What? You never ached to put your hands on a woman? Make her feel just how much you want it? That even if she didn’t want to give it to you, you’d take it by force?”

  As we stop at a red light, I fight to roll my eyes at the naïve words from an equally naïve woman. I make as though I’m thinking hard. “That sounds a little like… hmmm… what’s the word?” My face sobers as I go on. “Oh, yeah. Rape.”

  She waves a hand at me, her shoulder-length black hair swishing as she does, and makes a noise that suggests I’m being silly. “Oh, please. It’s completely consensual, and you know it.”

  The light turns green, and we’re off once more. “What kills you more? That I’m not into it, or that I’m just not the bad guy you think every guy is?”

  “Julius,” she starts, “it’s not about being a bad guy.” Her voice is soft. “I can make any good guy bad for the evening.”

  This is not gloating or pride. This sounds weary and worn on the lips of a dangerous woman. A predator. And she sounds tired of her own game.

  It’s not very often I feel sorry for Ling, but right now is one of those times.

  We drive on in silence, stopping at a gas station for necessities before reaching our stopover. The motel is quiet, as it should be at almost 3:00 a.m. As we make our way inside, a young man appears at the sound of the bell attached to the door. “Help y’all?”

  A slow, greedy smile spreads across Ling’s lips, and her eyes flash excitedly. “My, oh-my. They sure make ‘em big out here.”

  The young man doesn’t take his eyes off Ling, but he swallows hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing awkwardly as he does. She only makes it worse when she makes a show of licking her cherry red lips. From the way the man-boy follows her tongue, I know he’s wondering if she tastes as good as she looks.

  She does.

  Ling and I have never made it to the bedroom, but there have been instances where her lips have coaxed mine.

  She’s cherry-flavored. I can vouch for that.

  I slap my wallet down on the counter, and the young man jumps back, looking up at me in shock. I take my time looking him over. Nearly as tall as myself, Ling was right. He is a big one. “You got vacancy?”

  The boy immediately knows his place. “Yes, sir.” But he can’t resist the walking, talking Aphrodite at my side. He sneaks one quick look her way. “One room?”

  At the very moment I answer “Yes,” Ling answers, “No.”

  I pause to glance at her. “One room.”

  Her brows rise in a
way that tells me she doesn’t like my tone. She looks back at the young man and smiles an all too welcoming smile. “Two rooms please, honey.”

  But the boy remembers me, if not a second too late. “Sir?”

  I look over at Ling once more. Her eyes narrow dangerously. I glare at her a moment before I turn to the clerk. “Two rooms. But you make sure they’re next to each other, son.”

  He swallows again, his Adam’s apple jumping. His voice squeaks just a little bit. “Yes, sir. How will you be making payment?”

  “Cash.”

  “I need to see some identification.”

  I nod. “Sure thing.” I open my wallet, but rather than taking out my driver’s license, I pull out a hundred and slide it over the counter. “You’ll put down Mr. and Mrs. Sonny Jones. The reason we’re staying in separate rooms is because we’re not speaking right now, as my wife—” I gesture to Ling. “—Laura, is pissed at me for checking out a waitress at the local diner.” I pause a moment to let that sink in. “You get me?”

  Without skipping a beat, he pockets the cash, nods, and then answers, “Got it.”

  I take hold of my bag and reach for Ling’s, but she snatches the handle out of my grasp. She turns to the clerk. “Can you help me with my bag, uh…?”

  He takes the bait. “Yes, I can. And I’m Cory, but you can call me Chip.”

  Ling’s low laughter sounds. “Oh, of course you are, darling. How old did you say you are?”

  I walk ahead and smother my laughter, as Chip responds, “I’m eighteen, just finished my senior year.”

  Ling walks to my side. “Well, congratulations, Chip. That’s wonderful.” Under her breath, she mutters, “Just how I like ‘em.”

  I utter quietly out the side of my mouth, “Behave yourself.”

  She snorts, before responding, “Now where’s the fun in that?”

  We stop at our assigned rooms, and I let myself in just in time to hear Ling ask Chip, “Can you bring it inside for me, sweetie? I just had a manicure. I’d hate to ruin it so soon.”