Men of Mayhem (10 page)

“You don’t, but you don’t have any bargaining power right now.”

“I won’t tell anyone about this, not even Carmela. Just let me go and we’ll never see each other again.”

His mouth flattened. “No.”

The pads of his fingers brushed over my nipples, and pleasure zigzagged through my body. Damn my body.

“I hate you,” I whispered, glaring daggers at him.

“Get over it.”

A click sounded behind us.

“Put down the fucking gun, Tony. You’re not killing my fiancée tonight,” Gian said, without turning around.

My eyes widened, and he captured my ear between his teeth. “Follow my lead.” He spun around and enveloped me in a one-armed embrace.

Gian’s friend didn’t say a word as he inspected me like a wad of gum on the bottom of his shoe. “This chick is really your fiancée?”

“Yes. Why the fuck would I lie?”

The man whistled as he slipped his gun back inside his jacket. “Fuck, Gian. When the hell did this happen? Why didn’t you tell anyone?”

“Evangeline is a friend of Carmela’s.” Gian smiled. “You know how she is. She’d kick my ass if she thought I came within a mile of any of her friends.”

“Yeah, you’re right about that. Carmela is a firecracker.” The man chuckled as he held out his hand. “I’m Tony.”

I didn’t make a move to shake his hand, but then Gian squeezed my shoulder, and gave me a minute shake of his head. I caved.

“Nice to meet you,” I said, my voice as shaky as my hands.

“What the fuck is going on?” a man shouted behind us. “Who the hell is she?”

The man who propped open the door charged down the hall with his gun drawn. Gian shoved me behind him.

“Carlo,” Gian said through clenched teeth. “Don’t point a gun at my fiancée.”

Carlo’s eyebrows snapped together. “Why is she back here?”

“The door was propped open,” I muttered.

“You left the door open?” Gian’s body vibrated with barely restrained rage.

Carlo shrugged, his gaze roving down to my thighs and back up. “I didn’t think anyone would be dumb enough to sneak inside.”

“Exactly,” Gian countered, his voice icy. “You didn’t think. Carlo, help Tony and Sal wrap up the body and get it out of here. I have shit to do.”

“We’re ready to go, and Sal cleaned up your office,” Tony answered.

“Call me when it’s done.”

Gian guided me into his office. “Sit,” he said, gesturing to the sofa.

I plopped down and buried my head in my hands. “What do we do now?”

“We go to Carmela’s house and pack your bags. You’re moving in with me.”

I lifted my head. “No fucking way. I don’t know you. I don’t want to know you.”

“Sorry, sweetheart.” He twisted my hair around his finger and I shivered. “Until I know I can trust you, and I can convince everyone else to trust you, you’re going to be living with me as my fiancée. It’s the only way to keep you safe.”

Sweetheart? What decade is this?
And why do I like him calling me that? What is wrong with me?

I wouldn’t call myself a feminist or anything. I liked a man who opened an occasional door for me and picked up the tab after a nice meal. Lord knew, I wished Kevin had done more of those things when we were together instead of acting like a self-absorbed asshole.

I lowered my lashes and tugged on the hem of my skirt. My nerves were fraught and I couldn’t speak, so I stared unblinking for a prolonged beat. “How does pretending I’m your fiancée do anything?”

“That’s the way things work in my world. As long as you’re my fiancée, no one will touch you. When things calm down, we can both get back to our lives, and this will all be forgotten.”

I bit my lower lip to stop myself from crying. “I don’t get it. Why are you doing this? Why do you care what happens to me?”

Exhaling, he scrubbed his hand down his face. His eyes darkened like a storm was brewing inside of him, but the emotion disappeared almost instantly. “Because you’re important to my sister.”

I focused on the tiny threads in my skirt as I tried to comprehend everything that had happened. “What are we going to tell Carmela?”

He loosened his tie and opened the top two buttons on his shirt. Reaching out, he gently brushed his fingertips along my cheek. “That it was love at first sight or that we’ve been seeing each other secretly for a while.”

I shook my head even as my face heated. “She won’t believe us.”

He managed a faint smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. I couldn’t get a good read on this man. “It’s your job to make her believe, sweetheart.”

“Fine. I’ll do my best.” I squared my shoulders, pretending to be strong even as fear and hopelessness raged through me. I needed to find a way out of this mess.

Grabbing my purse, he dropped it on my lap. “Let’s go before she goes to bed.”

As I rose to my feet, I fleetingly wished I had the power to transport myself back in time to the moment before I injured my ankle. I would’ve walked off the stage before I jumped. I would’ve broken up with Kevin, and I would’ve stayed far away from Gianluca Trassato. Too bad wishing and hoping were useless. Instead, I followed Gian out of the building feeling more alone than ever.

The End

About the Author

After spending years practicing law and a million other random things, Lisa decided to pursue her dream of becoming a writer, and she must confess that inventing characters is so much more fun than writing contracts and legal briefs. 

The conclusion of
Gian

Coming Spring 2016

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Thirty-Five Years Ago

Stacy

From the moment I laid eyes on the six–foot-three, brown-haired man who walked into the diner that Sunday morning, I knew he wasn’t from around here. A man like that stuck out. His broad shoulders had the guy next to him shifting down a stool so they didn’t have to touch. I nodded at Jack, who was about to serve him, to let him know I had it. I removed the pen from my ear, pulled out my note pad, and strolled over.

“Hi there, what can I get you?”

He closed his eyes as he rubbed his temples. “Just coffee.”

“Coming right up.” I turned to pick up the coffee pot and checked out his reflection in the glass. He cursed quietly as he looked at his phone while I poured the dark brew and slid the mug over. “Here ya are.”

“Thanks.” He yawned, and his head remained down.
Friendly.

I tapped my pointer finger on the counter. “My name is Stacy. If you need anything, just call.”

“Yeah,” he grunted as he rubbed his head again. I reached under the counter and grabbed my purse, then took out my Tylenol and clicked the bottle down in front of him.

My other customers waited, so I moved over to them and took their orders. After I got them situated and went back, he was gone. Under my pill bottle was a twenty.

“Jack?” I called. He poked his head from behind the divider. “Did you see where that guy went? His bill was only a dollar, but…” I held up the twenty.

“Nice! He left about five minutes ago. Looked like he was hung over or something.”

The rest of my shift went quickly, and I never thought about the guy again until I left to walk the ten blocks to my tiny apartment, thinking of the twenty he had left me. Soon after that, I was passed out on the bed.

Mondays were slow, like ‘jam a fork in your eye’ slow. There were only so many times a person could fill the salt shakers and restock the shelves. Jack’s radio pumped Cindy Lauper, and I sang along as I dried a glass.

“Excuse me?” A voice broke into my song. I turned to find the man from yesterday in the same seat as before. I hopped off the counter and made my way over.

“Coffee, right?”

This time he stared right at me. My Lord, his eyes were a soft melty brown, like caramel with a light honey swirl. He gave me a tight smile. “Can I order pancakes along with it…please?”

“Coming right up.” I handed Jack the slip, and he gave me a little wink.

“Stacy, right?” he asked, then cleared his throat. I gave a little nod as I poured his coffee. “Charlie, nice to meet you.”

“It is,” I stated. “Can I ask you something, Charlie?”

“Sure.” He ripped a piece of paper and started to fold the edges down.

I replaced the pot and looked right at him. “Where are you from?”

“Phoenix.”

“So what brought you to Nashville?”

He continued to fold the paper even smaller. I watched in fascination for a few moments before he spoke. “Just felt like a drive.”

Two guys came and sat at the other end of the counter. I recognized Will and sighed inwardly. “Stace!” Will called out as he took a seat. “French toast with extra whipped cream and lots of chocolate sprinkles. Thanks, doll.”

Charlie looked up at me, then over to the guys. “Friends of yours?”

“No.” I sighed as I scribbled Will’s order. “Let me get your food.”

“Thank you.” He kept his eyes on the guys, who were loudly talking.

I placed Charlie’s plate in front of him, then headed to give Will his.

“Can I get you anything else?” I asked. As a reply, Will snagged my hand, pulled me forward, and dabbed my neck with whipped cream. “Will,” I sighed, “please don’t start today.”

“Oh, come on.” He smiled. “I’m just playin’. You want me to clean it off for you?” He wiggled his eyebrows.

“Stacy?” Charlie looked unimpressed. “Could I get another refill?”

“Yeah,” I called out, but Will caught my arm.

“Who’s he?”

“A customer.” I looked down at his grip and felt my patience wear thin. “Do you mind?”

He slowly let go but stared at Charlie like a bull checking out his next rider. I pulled the pot free from its stand and forced a smile at Charlie.

“How are the pancakes?”

“Great, thanks.” He pushed his empty plate aside and sipped his coffee. I noticed he’d made a little origami bird.
Sweet.

“So are you sticking around here for a bit?” I didn’t know why I asked. There was just something about him that interested me.

He tensed but then rolled his neck as if to relieve the tension. “Not sure yet.”

“Well, I hope to see you around.” He glanced up at me, his eyes unreadable, but I knew with a guy like that there was more to his story then he’d ever let on. That was fine with me. All I cared about was that I made enough money to leave this damn town. I pulled out his bill and placed it next to him. “Stick around if you’d like.”

He studied the bill. “This should be eleven sixty. Why is it free?”

I kept my back to him as I rang up Will’s order. “You left too much yesterday.”

“It was a tip—”

“It was too large,” I interrupted.

“That’s not for you to decide.”

“I beg to differ.”

“My tip, my decision.”

I turned to look at him and wondered what his angle was. “Do you always leave such a generous tip?”

“No.”

“Then why?”

“I was rude to you yesterday. I didn’t feel good, and you helped me out. I can leave you a tip if I want to.” He pulled out his wallet and left a twenty. “See you later, Stacy.”

“Bye, Charlie.” I couldn’t help but stare at his large, lean body as he left the restaurant.

And that’s how it went for three weeks. Charlie would come in, eat breakfast, leave a heavy tip, then disappear until the next day. There was always an unspoken attraction between us, though neither one of us acted on it. One day he didn’t show, and the day after. A month went by, and I realized my sexy stranger had vanished. It bothered me a lot, more than I thought it would. Sad. He interested me; he was way different than the guys in this town.

“Thanks, Jack,” I called out as I opened my umbrella.

“If you can wait, I’ll drive you home.”

I stepped out into the rain. “Are you kidding? I love the rain.” He laughed as I waved goodbye.

Three blocks from home, and my shoes were a soggy mess and I was frozen. I didn’t usually go out after work, but today the Red Piper looked inviting. I slipped inside and sagged into a chair at the end of the bar and ordered a hot rum. It went down a little too quickly. I wasn’t a drinker, and the liquor went straight to my head, but it sure warmed me right down to my wet toes.

I didn’t bother with my umbrella as I meandered the rest of the way home. It was too hard to coordinate my feet and the shield. So instead I let the icy drops hit my face and fall freely down my coat. A homeless man sat next to a building, holding a piece of cardboard over his head to protect himself and his golden retriever. They both looked miserable. I handed him my umbrella and a few dollars. He was way worse off than I was. The guy nearly sobbed at the gesture and thanked me. I made a note to bring him some leftover food from the diner tomorrow.

My place rarely looked as warm and inviting as it did at the moment I approached the door. I patted my pocket, then spat out a loud curse. “Shit, where the hell are my keys?” I started to cry; nothing ever came easily to me. My back pressed flat against the wall to find some kind of cover as I let the tears mingle with the cold raindrops. I didn’t regret the help I offered the old man, but right then I wished I had my umbrella back. I just wanted to break the door down and get into some warm clothes. I sank to the ground near the edge of the building where I could get a little shelter from the rain.

After I gathered myself, I realized my neighbor would be home soon, and she had a spare key. I decided to wait for her instead of tromping back the ten blocks. She was due back in twenty. I could wait.

“What happened to you, sweetheart?” Jack asked as I came in late for my shift. “I was worried when I got your call.”

I still felt terrible. I couldn’t get warm. I didn’t get into my apartment until my neighbor got home from her shift at the hospital. “Long night,” I mumbled through a sore throat. My sweater wrapped around my too-small frame, I felt like my clothes were paper thin my bones ached so much.

My fingers clutched the mug of green tea I hugged close to my chest as the little bell on the door rang. I dragged myself out of the kitchen and behind the counter.

It’s him.

“Wow, what happened to you?” Charlie asked as he took what was his usual seat a month ago. Fate was not on my side. Why, today of all days, would it send him here after all this time when I looked and felt like a total wreck? I didn’t answer him, I just poured him his coffee and ordered his pancakes. “Thanks.” He took a sip of his coffee. He eyed me then reached up to feel my forehead. I blinked a few times at his boldness. “Jesus, Stacy, you’re burning up.”

With a nod, I grabbed the stool and dropped onto it. We weren’t supposed to sit, but I didn’t care. My hands covered my eyes. All I wanted was to be home in my bed, alone in my misery.

Charlie moved his coffee aside and leaned forward, examining my face. I knew I must be flushed and pretty awful-looking, but I didn’t really care. “You’re sick. Why aren’t you home?”

With a heavy sigh, I decided to be honest. “I walked home in the rain last night, only to find I had lost my keys. So I spent forty-five minutes huddled against my building wall until my neighbor came home.” His face remained expressionless, and I felt like I needed to go on. “I had an umbrella, but after a drink, I felt fine and there was this homeless man and a dog who needed it more than I did. In hindsight, I see it wasn’t a smart move.”

Charlie got up from his chair and went into the kitchen. Normally I’d care, but today I didn’t. I placed my cheek down on the cool counter and imagined myself home.

“Up you go, hon.” Charlie’s strong arms lifted me off the counter and around to the door. I briefly heard Jack say something as we left, but I was fading fast.