Learning to Forgive (The Learning Series) (31 page)

Her eyes start to get glossy with tears, and we immediately surround her. Jazz grabs her face and makes her look at her in the eyes. “Don’t cry, Cory. Remember we’re having a Fuck It party. Not a therapy session. So get that back straight and those tits perky then dry your eyes.”

“Okay. I will. But dammit, I’m fuckin’ sad now. Do you know how much I miss that poster?”

The following week passes and my mood starts to lift even though unwanted thoughts of Lyric surface from time to time. I’ve been staying at Janet’s place since I have nowhere to go, praying I won’t be kicked out anytime soon. I refuse to be anywhere near the reason for my heartbreak. If the thought of him and another woman makes me want to hide in a dark closet to cry, I can only imagine what I’ll do if I actually see it. So for the safety of humanity, I keep my distance. Trudy helps me find a new job at Martinis, a swanky piano bar a few blocks away from Jay’s. It’s only three nights a week, because I’m not the only pianist in town, but hopefully, the tips will help me out.

I’m expecting Jazz and Fin to pull up any minute. She’s bringing over some of her dresses for me to try on before my first performance tomorrow night. The whole fancy dress code is going to be an adjustment, but I’m hopeful this is the right choice in my life. It’s one I made all on my own. I still need to get the balls to go and grab my stuff from Lyric’s, but I just can’t seem to make myself face him, or what we had. Procrastination should be my new middle name. So I’ve been mooching off the three girls who shoved pizza and lots of liquor down my throat the other night, and even though I feel like I’m turning into a freeloader, I’m not going to complain. The day is coming that I’ll need to suck it up and just do it.

I’ll discuss this with the Trudy, Cory, and Jazz later, along with the fact I have a sister I never knew about. But I’m in no position right now to go to South Carolina and take her away from that hell. I don’t even have a real roof over my head, just the one I’m borrowing until Janet’s estate, and belongings are distributed or auctioned off.

Hearing the knock, I run to open the front door and see Jazz and chubby cheeks Fin. “Here.” She shoves Fin in my arms before running back to her car. She then carries in dress after dress before rolling in a suitcase. When I ask her what’s inside, she tells me shoes, and I stand there with my mouth open after she unzips it. Different colors. Different heights. Some with jewels. Some with bows. There has to be fifteen different pairs of heels. Our feet are close in size, but Jazz is a lot shorter than I am. In her clothes, I’m going to be showing my ass off, or look like I’m ready for a flood.

She takes Fin and has me try on every dress. I quickly learn that pink is definitely not my color and clashes with the red of my hair. However, the blues and teals are nice, but like I said before, my ass is on display. If I sit on the piano bench, people will get more than a musical show. Before I give up hope on finding a dress, she passes me another one. The black, backless, halter-top, floor-length gown has a high slit on the left side. The ruched fabric wraps beautifully to the left and stops at a large brooch of silver gems. Struck speechless, I stand in front of the mirror and marvel how beautiful it looks. No wig hides me from the world. No fake names will be used. I, Blaire Morgan, am going to do the one thing I love the most. Play piano.

Images of Lyric and me at the piano the first time he touched me invade my thoughts and I start to feel flushed.

“Dayum girl. That’s the one, no doubt.”

Jazz’s voice interrupts my memory and I take a deep breath to clear my head.
Don’t ruin this, Blaire. Don’t let him ruin this
. After my pep talk, I look at her petite reflection in the mirror and smile. “Yes. I believe it is.” But really, I’m not only talking about the gorgeous dress. I’m talking about me, a girl who’s taking her first step of independence and who’s determined to be good enough to have someone who will love me. That someone is a little girl who needs to be rescued before it’s too late. “It’s definitely the one.”

“Knowing your own darkness is the best method for dealing with the darknesses of other people.”

~Earl Jung

Lyric

Anya leads Bishop outside of The Hole with a false promise of some sexual favor. His smirk and body language is relaxed. No suspicion is seen on his face and I’m positive he has no idea what’s about to take place. He quickly walks her around to the passenger side of his car and traps her body between his arms.

She smiles and looks at him with lust in her eyes. “I love this car. It’s so hot. I’ve never ridden in one before. Will you take me in it tonight?” She talks his ego up.

“Sure, baby. But it’s gonna cost ya.” He bends down and kisses her neck. “You think you can pay the price?” His hands move to her large breasts, and when her neck tilts, her eyes meet mine and I see nothing but pure evil. No soul or life. I wonder if that’s what Blaire saw when she looked at me. I quickly train my mind back on what’s happening instead of what’s not.

“Time to pay the piper, baby.” Bishop opens the passenger door and slides their bodies toward the inside of the car.

Anya smiles seductively as she disappears from view and drops to her knees. Onlookers and witnesses pay no mind to the two individuals about to openly have sex. Prostitutes are common in this part of town, and unfortunately, rape is too. Cop cars keep their distance, but just to be on the safe side, I have some small town thugs taking watch.

As I step out of the shadows, my feet make no sound. When I see his face morph from pure ecstasy to fear, I know she’s pulled her 38 special out, and if I’m right, the cold metal is pointed at his dick.

“Make a fucking sound and you’ll lose your tollbooth asshole.”

His hands go in the air as he starts to beg.
Pussy.
She’s easy to take down if he had sense, but obviously, that’s not the case.

Instead of grabbing him from behind, I let him see my face. His eyes widen as his breathing becomes labored from fear and anger. I’m not going to lie. I like scaring the shit out of fuckers like him.

“You.” He hisses and spittle sprays me in the face. I just dig in his pocket and grab his keys before disarming him of all his weapons. When I’m done, I smile coldly. “Now pull your pants up and put your shit away.” Anya keeps her gun on him as she stands. But then I hear the whistle and know we’re running out of time. I hand the keys to Anya. “Don’t speed.”

She pouts like this is a fucking game. “Aww, babe. You’re no fun.” Then she slowly pulls her dress up, showing her legs and places her gun back in her garter holster before leaning up and kissing me on the cheek. She’s playing this couple act like it’s an art and I hate every second of it. “But you’ll learn how fun I can be later. That’s a promise.” She winks at Bishop before walking around the front of the black Corvette and getting in the driver’s seat.

“Don’t even think about pulling any shit, Bishop. I’ll break your neck before you get two inches from me. And your trusty sidekick is already occupied. So don’t think of calling him either.” Then I see Lou’s Cadillac pulling toward us and smile for the first time in three weeks. “I’ve been wanting to do this for a while now.” My fist plants hard on the fucker’s face and he falls cold on the asphalt. Lou helps me load him up and we head to the dock.

“Damn, Lyric. I think you killed the muthafucka.”

“Nah. Unfortunately, he’s still breathing. Plus he’d be useless to me dead.”

“I hear ya. You trust this bitch? Cause I ain’t gonna lie. I don’t.”

“We just need to keep our eyes on her. I don’t trust her either, but if she brings Polesky to me, I’ll take my chances.”

Bishop finally comes to after Javier throws cold water on him. He spits and sputters when he wakes to only realize he’s tied to a metal chair surrounded by at least fifty men, some Columbian, some American. All of them are with me and all hate Polesky.

Javier laughs while tossing the bucket to the other side of the room. “Mornin’ sunshine. You enjoy that nap? Cause you gonna need all the energy you can get.” He lights a cigarette and blows smoke in Bishop’s face.

“Let me go, you dick. Or you’re all gonna pay for this shit.” Bishop yells but nobody can hear him outside these metal walls. The boats and machine plants that surround us drown out all noise. Even gun shots. “Do ya know who you’re fuckin with? Do ya?”

“You talkin’ about that Russian
puta
? Because that’s all he is to us anymore. A straight bitch.” Javier loses his laugh. “He’s pissed off the wrong
capos,
you
pinche pendeja
.” He takes his cigarette and lets the red tip land on Bishop’s hand, burning his flesh. Bishop screams and tries to yank his body free from the plastic zip ties. But they only cut deeper into his skin.

After a minute, I stop Javier’s fun. It was his cousin who was raped and tortured by Polesky, so I allow him some leeway. “Javier. That’s enough.” I say with command. He laughs before walking over to the side of the building. I approach Bishop and grab an extra chair to straddle backwards and face him. “You know who I am?” He doesn’t say anything, which is not surprising. I grab my KA-BAR out of the sheath inside my boot and causally clean my nails. “I’m goin’ to ask you again. You know who I am?” Once again, he stays silent, and when I look at him, his eyes are watching my knife. I whistle to get his attention. “Hey, dick. Look up here.” His eyes meet mine, and no matter how tough he’s acting, I can still see the fear in them. “I’m goin’ to ask you one last time. Do you know who I am?” I count down the seconds, waiting for an answer, and when I get to five, I shove my blade straight through his hand directly where Javier burned him. He screams as blood flows from the wound and drips on the cement. “You feel like speaking now?”

“Ugh!
Lyric… Lyric Devereux. Murderer of Vladimir Polesky.” Sweat breaks out on his brow and his face turns pasty white.

“Damn right, I murdered that rapist piece of shit. And I dream of doin’ the same damn thing to Nicholas.”

Heels clatter on the cement floor as Anya approaches. Looking over my shoulder, I see the video camera in her hands. After Polesky watches this, he’ll know she’s alive and I have her. He’ll show his face either to get her back in the family business or to end her for disloyalty and deceit. Plus, I’m positive she knows some major shit about what he’s done or is still doing, and because of that, she’s a liability. Getting close to her was a no brainer for the government. It’s not about the drugs to them. It’s something bigger. I’m just not privy to that info.

“What is that bitch doin?”

“Aww.” She clucks her tongue. “Is that any way to talk to the sexiest woman alive? That is what you called me at the bar earlier, right?” She stands between his legs while recording his face. “I bet you’re regretting buying me that drink now, huh?” Then she places one high heeled foot up between his legs on his dick. “Do you know who
I
am?”

“A heartless slut.”

Her red lips form a smile that shows no humor and she starts to add pressure with her foot. “Yes. I am heartless. I was raised to be, and when I finally found my heart, he was murdered by your boss.” More weight is added, and his breathing becomes erratic. When he’s almost in tears and close to passing out, she releases the pressure and lowers her heeled foot on the ground. Then she turns and sits in his lap before turning the camera on them both. “Hi daddy. Look what I’ve got.” She smacks Bishop’s cheek. “Wake up. You don’t want to miss this. And don’t forget to say hey to my dad, Nicholas Polesky.”