Chapter 11
“YES, I CAN assure you that you will see a steep return on your investment. I am personally dedicating all my energy to making this a success.” I held the phone, listening to the man drone on and on about his two million dollar investment with Lambardoni Enterprises. Two million was a lot, but he had just signed the papers two days ago. Money, good money, didn’t come that quickly. It took time, smarts, guts, and me to make it happen.
I wouldn’t let my frustration come through on the phone, which at the moment I gripped until my knuckles were white. I knew, when he had come into the office, this would be a tough one. He had given me over half of his savings in hopes that I could save him from financial ruin, and I would. In time.
Clients like him wanted that fast buck. Their company was in dire straits, and instead of saving their money, they lived the high life until they needed more to continue their lifestyle. Didn’t we all want more? They wanted to save it, so here I was, trying to get this guy cash so he could move on his way.
Finishing the call, my professional tone had a bit of sass to it that I tried to mask, but did poorly. Who was I kidding? Everything lately had a bit more sass, anger, frustration, you name it.
I hung up and leaned my head back in my tall, black chair, allowing the soft pillow to cushion my head. I blew out a deep breath, letting the call fizzle out of my thoughts.
Looking around at my office, I noted all the accolades and awards I had displayed with honor on the walls. My degree hung above the large, black leather couch in the corner. Behind it were floor to ceiling windows that gave a great view of Rhode Island and all its glory. I chose a tan color with a hint of green for the walls. I wanted a subdued and earthy feel. I wanted people to feel comfortable in this space. After all, when you were dealing with millions of dollars, soothing clients was always a great thing. Hell, a must.
A soft knock came to the door along with the turn of the handle. Kiera peered around the door. “Knock, knock. Busy?”
I smiled at my best friend and the only one I could truly depend on as she stepped through the door. While my family was always there, I felt so damn out of the loop with everything. I didn’t know how my mom had done it for so long, never knowing what was happening. I shouldn’t care, but the older I got, the more I questioned it. How could she not know and be okay with it?
“Nope, come on in.”
She pushed the door shut then plopped down on the couch in a whoosh, kicking off her heels and then rubbing her feet on the fabric.
“What’s up?”
She laughed. “Well, for one, your birthday.”
I rolled my eyes. I was so damn sick and tired of having those things every year. You had one, and then a year later, you had another one. Annoying. I had always been comfortable in my skin; that wasn’t the problem. I loved my curves, and over the last nine months, they looked awesome, thanks to my new trainer, Phillip. He had kept all my curves exactly where I wanted them and toned me up. He had also taught me more kickboxing moves, which boosted my confidence even more. Not that I ever really needed help in that area, but the last few months had taken their toll on me.
“Let’s skip it.” I picked up a pen and rolled it between my fingers. Not because I thought the conversation was over, but more for preparation. She would wear me down until I agreed, and then we would end up out somewhere. Knowing her, it would be someplace where guys were naked.
“No, let’s skip the damn fight you have in your head. We’re going out tomorrow night. I have it all set up, and we get a private show.” Lord.
She narrowed her eyes, challenging me. I really didn’t have the strength.
“Strippers? Really? I’ve seen enough dicks; I don’t really need any more.” Truth be told, I hadn’t seen one in so damn long I would probably have to Google the word “penis” to remember.
Almost nine months, he’d been gone. He had kept telling me he would come back, and part of me had believed him, part of me hoped. The more we talked over the phone, the more I wanted him there with me. The more I learned about him as a person and not just a sex animal in bed, the more I craved him. It sounded weird, but it was true. Getting to know the man behind those killer eyes, I fell harder for him.
I had believed he was coming back, and we would eventually be together, some stupid romance bullshit that I should have known wouldn’t happen. As the time rolled on, doubt crept in.
Then, one minute of one day, a few months ago, changed everything. One look at something that should have never been seen had ended everything. Bam, like a knife to the gut.
I had told myself relentlessly calling everything off was for the best. A few nights of hot sex was never meant to turn into more. Even thinking so was asinine on my part. Our lives intertwined more than I realized and a future wasn’t in the cards for us. I couldn’t stop the ache in my heart, though. Each time my phone rang, and Jag’s handsome face flashed on the screen, it dug the knife in deeper. Stung. Mutilated.
“Hell, yeah. This funk you’re in is over. I’m sick and tired of this shit. I don’t know what it is, but if you’re not here working, you’re at the gym, or you’re holed up in your office at home.” She paused. “You know you can call Jag. He asks about you all the time.”
My eyes shot to hers, slitting in anger. My pulse rose, and heat burned me up. “Have you been talking to him?” I growled, not caring if I sounded like a fucking bitch.
The bitch smiled. “Since you won’t talk to him, he asks me. He’s not giving up on you.”
“I don’t give a shit. I gave up on him. Whose side are you on here?” I stood, pushing the chair back a few feet with the force. My hands lay flat on the surface of the desk as I glared at my best friend.
“Calm your ass down. He hasn’t called in weeks. Would you just tell me what the fuck happened between you two? You’ve been a damn ticking bomb the past few months. Any little thing pisses you off. I’m surprised we haven’t gotten complaints from clients.”
I hung my head in front of me, staring at the top of the desk. I needed to pull my shit together quick. Kiera couldn’t know. No one could.
She was right, though. My anger had gotten the best of me over the simplest of shit. The drawer to my desk wouldn’t shut right. I would be livid, slamming and beating it with anything I could find. The last time, I had to get a new stapler and three-hole punch to recoup the damage. The thing was, though, I could shield the anger for the most part, at least everyone except Kiera. We lived together, worked together, so how would I be able to do that?
I knew it had gotten bad, but at this point, the only way to calm and tame myself was to wear myself down at the gym, spending hours and hours there. Even then, as soon as I got home, all the anger would rush back sucking me into a black hole.
I pulled the chair back up behind me and plopped back down. “Look, I’m sorry. I can’t call him. I don’t want to be with him. He isn’t the guy for me.” The words crushed me, but it was what needed to be said.
“Liar.” She stood from the couch, walked over to the chair in front of me, sat on the edge of it, and stared into my eyes. The weight of her stare pulled me in. “You love him.”
I scoffed. “Hell no, I don’t love him. Are you insane?” I feared she was right. Hell, I knew she was. If our connection before he left didn’t seal it, it was the conversations and Skype’s that had put the nail in the coffin. He and I had so damn much that meshed so well together. We fit and that was so hard to come by. Instead, I had to let him go.
“Whatever. You may not want to talk to me, even if I don’t know why, but your ass needs to talk to someone. I can’t keep buying new kitchen cabinets and chairs every time I turn around.” Yeah, she could, but I saw her point. I couldn’t un-see what I had seen, but I needed to lock it somewhere in the back of my brain and forget it. Somehow.
“I’m sorry, alright?” I blew out an exasperated breath. “I’m working on it.”
“I’m worried about you,” she whispered, tears forming in the corners of her eyes. “I know something’s wrong. I wish you’d tell me.”
I wished I could, too, but what I knew could never leave my lips, or everything around Kiera and I would crumble to the ground. I couldn’t risk that. I wouldn’t risk that for my family. Family was the most important thing, even if it cost you everything.
“I’ll get it worked out.” I gave her a short smile, knowing it didn’t reach my eyes. My insides twisted into the tightest knot possible, falling heavily into my gut. “I’m gonna head home. I need to meet up for dinner at my folks’ tonight, and I’m a bit wiped. Can you hold down the fort for me?”
Kiera and I came and went as we pleased, knowing when the important moments were when we needed to be in the office to make things work. That day was not one of those days.
“Yeah, I’ve got it. Get some sleep. You look like you need it.”
I stood, grabbing my purse and bag and wrapped the handles around my forearm. “Is that your nice way of telling me I look like shit?” I smirked, feeling a tad bit lighter from the teasing. I missed this, missed the carefree Catarina I used to be. However, I had no idea how to get her back when inside I was breaking into nothingness.
Kiera stood. “Yep. Seriously, you need to sleep and work whatever this is out. It’s eating you alive.” Again, she was right, the perceptive little thing.
“I will,” I choked out then rushed out of the office, keeping my head down so I didn’t have to engage anyone in conversation. Otherwise, it would be another hour until I got home.
Pulling up to the house, Scraper opened the car door for me. He had stayed by my side this entire time. All these years with this man by my side was the longest relationship I had ever had. Sigh.
After climbing the stairs to my room, I quickly changed, throwing everything to the floor. I would deal with it later. Then I crawled into my nice, soft—lonely bed—and the cool sheets caressed my skin as I pulled them up, forming a cocoon around my body. I rested my head on my pillow, pulling the blankets up to my eyes, which I tried to close.
All I could see was Jag. All I could hear was his voice calling to me. All I could feel were his hands flitting across my skin. My heart ached as a light sheen formed over my body. Anxiety rose, and parts of my heart slowly broke apart. With each tear, pain shot through me, and I couldn’t take it.
I threw the blankets off in a huff, flailing over them to climb out of bed, and then rushed to my phone. I scrolled through the numbers, looking for Phillip, and then pushed his number.
“Catarina. It’s early in the day for you.” His voice on the other end was way too chipper.
“I need you to work me out.” It was the only way to make it stop. Anytime I was alone, all my problems swirled so fast around my head they suffocated me until I couldn’t breathe. This was my out, my only release.
“Come on down. I have an hour.”
“Thanks,” I snapped, hanging up the phone before darting to the closet to throw on clean yoga pants and a tank top. I had the ones with the shelf bras, so I didn’t have to worry about the girls popping out. I rushed downstairs, dialing Scraper’s number.
“Ms. Catarina. Are you okay?” Scraper met me at the door, staring at me as if he was seeing an alien. I knew I was a mess, but shit, I wasn’t that bad. Was I? I didn’t give him time to stall.
“Fine.” I slammed the door behind me, racing to the car.
The drive was short, but I couldn’t keep my legs from bouncing the entire way. The nervous energy pulsed through me, ready to erupt.
Finding Phillip was easy. He was always in the same place—along the back wall by all the treadmills and shit that would kill me. I would welcome every minute of it.
“Catarina.” He took one look at me and shook his head.
Phillip was a nice looking guy: bald head, tight muscles all throughout his body. His arms big, strong, and firm. He was also nice to a point. When it came to the actual training, he kicked my ass, exactly like I wanted.
“Treadmill, fifteen minutes.”
I hopped on and pumped it up as high as I could go, not even giving myself time to warm up. I needed to run. For some people, running helped them think. For me, it shut down all the voices and information that floated around, causing havoc in my life—giving me a semblance of peace.
I ran and ran until the sweat was pouring down my face and back, falling into the crevice of my ass. I welcomed each drop.
“Stairs,” he barked.
I hopped on the machine that took you nowhere quick, climbing so hard my legs burned. They felt weak, but I pushed through and kept going, my mind solely focused on the task that I was doing at that moment.
Phillip reached over, shutting down the machine, and tilted his head over in the direction of the bag. I loved that thing; punching and kicking my ass off was a wonderful release. I taped up quickly, and then Phillip held one side of the bag. Over the past few months, he had taught me many moves: quick jabs, knee thrusts, foot kicks for important places. I did them all repetitively, not stopping.
I had no idea how long I was in action, but by the time he told me to stop, I was drenched. Every part of my body was covered with sweat. The anxiety from before was at bay for a bit, and I soaked it in.
Phillip left to take care of his next client, and I decided I needed to run some more. I had dinner that night with my family, so that thought spurred the need for further release. It was getting harder to keep everything bottled inside, so I ran.
***
You can do this. Suck it up and put a smile on your face. I chanted those same words over and over again on the way to my parents’ home. My brothers—Val and D—would all be there, and not one of them would talk about their business. I grated my teeth back and forth. It didn’t matter. I didn’t need to know.
I wished I could shut all my thoughts down and simply escape, but that wasn’t happening. They wanted to celebrate my birthday, something I couldn’t refuse.
“Rina, you’re here!” Mom called cheerfully from the doorway, extending her open arms.
I fell into them, needing her affection more than she realized. I soaked up every second of it before she pulled away.
“The boys are in the living room. Dinner will be ready soon.”
“You want help, Mom?” I asked, already knowing the answer, but I thought it was worth a shot.
“Nah, you go sit.” She shooed me along, making a back and forth motion with her hands, and I did as I was told.
Entering the room, all voices stopped, just like every other time I had ever entered. I sighed. Scanning the room, my eyes fell on my father’s, who quickly got up from his seat and rushed toward me. My body instantly tensed. I had been working on that, but it was an involuntary thing I hadn’t quite mastered yet. Regardless, I forced myself to relax before he wrapped his arms around me.
“Rina, I’m so happy to see you.” He kissed me on both cheeks and then cupped my face with both hands. “You’re not sleeping well?” His eyes dove into mine, so I closed them swiftly, afraid of what he would see.
“I’m fine, Daddy. Work’s been busy.” I gave him the best smirk I could muster, trying to hide my whirling thoughts.
“You need to rest. You are too young for this and too smart. No working tonight; you rest.” He lifted his brows, telling me I had better listen.
I nodded absently. He had no idea my nights were spent researching anything and everything I could find to keep my family safe, only coming up empty at every turn.
My brothers greeted me and extended the same pleasantries. Dinner went by hastily, and I tuned most of everything out. I should be sucking in everything and anything my father and brothers said, but I wasn’t stupid enough to think they would actually give me anything I could use.
With a cake in hand, they all sang “Happy Birthday,” and I was happy that part was all over.
***
When I arrived at home, a box was on the kitchen counter, addressed to me from Jag, another present. One of many that I’d gotten over the last three months. I sent them back because just the sight of them broke my heart a little more. This one though… He had remembered my birthday. No. I pushed the feelings that rose away and turned away from the gift. I couldn’t open it. I couldn’t see what it was. It would hurt too much. I wanted to though. I wanted to know what was inside the package.
I went up to my office, locking the door behind me. I turned all the cameras so they were facing opposite directions of my desk, which I did every time I came in here before turning them back after I left. I had started doing that months ago when I didn’t want anyone to see. I dug in my pocket, pulling out my key that I slowly slipped into the middle drawer lock of my desk, turning it with a click. The drawer creaked open as I pulled it. Inside sat a lone manila folder. I stared at it and sighed, hating the sight of it.
Pulling it out, I laid it on top of the desk and shut the drawer. My vision blurred. I should have burned it when I first got it. I should have made sure that it was gone, but I kept it, knowing it was a threat to my family, one that I would need to take care of. Sure, I could go to my dad and Uncle Vino, but it would dredge up too many old feelings, and I would like to keep that part of their lives closed. I could do this for them. Be strong, for them.
I opened the folder and pulled out three photos, laying them all in a line. My heart rate picked up as fear and anger spiked through my body. The pictures were eight by ten shots of my father, a knife steady in his hand, anger and fear embedded in his eyes. Each picture showed my father slicing the neck of Geovini Maratelli.