Strapped: A Second Chance Mafia Romance (7 page)

3
^rd
October 2014

“
A
re you okay
?” Ryan asks me with concern plastered across his face. “Only... you seem a bit distracted.”

“Is it that obvious?” I ask him panicking. Sure, this job has done nothing to live up to my expectations, and I’m not enjoying it one bit, but I cannot afford to lose it. I can’t fail, not when I worked so hard to get here. I have to go through all of these steps before I can make a future for myself... and everything I’ve done has to be worth it. It needs to all be for something, or I sacrificed my youth to end up no better off. “Shit.”

“It’s okay, I don't think anyone’s noticed. You’re certainly sticking down those envelopes with no worry,” his wry joke does nothing for me, it doesn’t even raise a smile. “I just... I don't know, you seem a little out of it today.”

“I... oh God...” I throw my head into my hands, really desperately not wanting to cry.

“Can I ask you who that guy was the other day? The one with the Dodge Viper?”

“The what?” I ask, knowing exactly who he’s referring to, but not ready to address it just yet. Just the mere thought of him has my heart fluttering all over the place, and my mind recalling that Goddamn sexy body. Whatever he’s done, whoever he is, I cannot help my attraction to him no matter what.

“That bloody amazing sports car!” He insists, rolling his eyes at me. “God, you didn’t deserve to go for a ride in that thing – you don't even appreciate it.”

When I remember what actually went on in that car, and how much I did damn well appreciate it, my face flames and I have to look away from Ryan, just in case he suspects.

“That’s Marco,” I tell him honestly. “He’s a friend from when I was younger.”

“
Friend
,” he scoffs, instantly seeing through the facade and my eyes snap back up to him, wondering how the hell he can possibly know. Maybe my bright red face has given me away! “From the way that guy was looking at you, I would say that the last thing he wants from you is friendship.”

“What... what do you mean?” I stammer fearfully. Is he going to tell me that he was looking at me in a sexual way? Like he wanted to eat me alive or something? I don't know how I’ll feel if he does – I suppose it’ll confirm one of my biggest fears – that he’s only ever wanted me in
that
way. In a lust-filled way. I just know that I can’t fully trust my own judgement because I assumed what we had before, all those years ago, was love... and it was on my side, but the way that he wouldn’t say it when I told him that I was leaving had me questioning absolutely everything.

“Oh my God, how can you not see it?” Ryan laughs. “That guy is so in love with you, it’s unreal.”

“What do you mean?” I gasp, unable to disguise my need to know any longer. “How could you tell?”

“Olivia, it was written all over his face. You forget that I’m a man who now has a lot of experience in the romantic field,” I chuckle at his joke, feeling an odd sense of relief flood through me. “And that guy is in love... hard. Are you together? How long has it been going on?”

“No,” I rasp, the sadness catching up with me once more. “No, we aren’t. I don't think it’s going to work out.”

“Why not?” He asks, sounding genuinely shocked. “What could possibly be keeping you two apart?”

The fact that he’s in the mafia.

Because he’s a killer.

“We’re just too different,” I smile blandly, opting for an out and out lie. “It’s just the way it is.”

“Ah well,” he turns back to face his work, rapidly losing any interest now that there isn’t any juiciness to the story. “Plenty more fish in the sea.”

But as I get back to my menial task at work, my mind can’t help but whir. I don't want any other fish, I only want Marco. I know that it doesn’t make any sense, and that he isn’t the sort of guy that I should even be giving a chance to, but I can’t help how I feel.

Maybe... maybe I haven’t given him a chance.

I don't know if I’m just giving myself an excuse to possibly go back to Marco, but once that idea is fixed in my brain, it isn’t going away. My dad always refused to give him any kind of a chance because he just didn’t know him, and he moved me across the country to ensure that I kept away from him. He was so adamant that he didn’t want to give him an opportunity – especially after he got mixed up with the police – and that was that. He was written off as if he didn’t even exist.

Am I doing the same by running away as soon as he’s told me about his life? I didn’t really give him the chance to explain, and I haven’t made any effort to speak to him since. Will he see me as just another person to brush him under the carpet? Is that what I want to be, or should I attempt to be more? Should I at least hear him out?

Especially if Ryan’s observation was right, and he does genuinely love me.

By the time I arrive home after another very long shift, I can’t stop thinking about the Marco I know, rather than the man he told me he was. I recall his strong, yet sensitive nature, his kind heart, his inner strength, his ability to really do something if he commits, and the way that he always put me first.

Maybe he only pushed me away back then to protect me, and maybe he’s doing the same now.

Well, fuck that!
I think to myself.
I don't need protecting. I’m a grown woman, I can look after myself.

And with that, a switch has flicked on in my brain, and I know without a shadow of a doubt that I’m going to see him. I haven’t yet decided on my motivation yet, I don't quite know
why
I’m going to see Marco, and what I’m going to say when I do lay my eyes upon him, but I
do
know that if I even attempt to sit in my apartment, I’ll end up driving myself crazy.

I glance at my phone for a few seconds, trying to decide whether or not I should call him first, before quickly dismissing that idea. I’m so charged up that I actually need to see him face to face, so I quickly throw some better clothes on. I don’t know much, but I do know that I need to at least attempt to look good, so I grab a red, knee-length dress and some black ballet pumps. I even go as far as to run a brush through my hair a couple of times, just to make a real effort.

Then I walk out the door without looking back.

It isn’t until I’m outside, with the cool air brushing against my cheek, that I realize I don't know where to go. I’m not sure where he hangs out in New York these days... in fact, the only place I’ve ever really seen him out and about is in Jesters, so I decide to head there. At least I know if he isn’t there, Marissa will be so I won’t be alone. I get the impression that she’s there a
lot
, so as weird as it’ll be seeing that version of my old friend again, at least I won’t be alone.

I tentatively push the door open and burst into coughs as the smoke begins to fill my lungs. It takes a few moments for my eyes to adjust, and only another couple of seconds to notice that his presence isn’t there.

“Yay!” Marissa cries, drawing my attention over to where she’s practically slumped over the bar. “Olivia’s here.”

“Oh hi, Marissa,” I reply weakly, suddenly realizing the implications of my actions. Now I’m going to have to hang out with her until he does... or more likely doesn’t... show up, and it’s going to be very uncomfortable, considering the varied paths our lives have taken. “How are you?”

“Just trying to get buzzed,” she slurs. “Same as always. How about you?”

“Erm... yeah,” I pause thoughtfully, wondering how wrong it would be of me to ask what happened to her, why she ended up in this way. “Something like that.”

“It’s shit, isn’t it?” she cackles loudly. “Being a fucking grownup. I hate it, I can’t do it.”

“Wh... why?” I ask anxiously. “I mean, yeah it is, but... why?”

She turns to face me, and I can see the deadness of her eyes. She has totally switched off to the world, and that’s utterly heartbreaking. It takes all that I have not to burst into tears.

“All that pressure... from my mom, do you remember?” There’s a hazy memory there of her complaining about her mom, but I’m ashamed to say that I was always too distracted by my love life to pay too much attention – what a shitty friend I was back then. “It was too much... and after all of it, it came to nothing. Do you remember exam results day?”

“Erm, no. I wasn't in New York then. We moved, remember?” I feel empty and cold at her words, and I have to brush away a stray tear that falls down my cheek. I can’t help but feel partially responsible for her descent.

“Oh right... well because I got Bs rather than As she went nuts in front of everyone, it was so embarrassing. Then she wouldn’t let me go to college so I wouldn’t let her down again... and it all kind of went to shit from there.”

“Oh God,” I gasp in shock. “That’s just...”

“But it doesn’t matter now,” she smiles once more. “I have my drink, I have my man, that’s all I need.” She lifts her glass to the awful man I saw her kissing before, and he returns the gesture, making me feel incredibly sick. “So all is good.”

“Sorry I just...” I quickly reply, before racing off to the bathroom to allow myself to weep. I cry for the potential that everyone had, that they allowed to slide to one side. I mourn for the future that never became because of awful outside pressures. I wish that things had turned out another way entirely.

“Hey,” I hear a guy yell from outside the bathroom door. At first I try to ignore it because the male and female toilets share a hallway, so it doesn’t have to mean anything, but then the guy’s tone turns angrier. “Oh, you fucking dick, get the fuck out here.”

“...please, please, please...” whoever replies is almost in tears, which instantly has my danger alert on high. “I didn’t mean to, I can’t... I want to...”

“I don't want to fucking speak to you in here. Marco is outside.
He
is the one you need to explain yourself to.”

Marco... my Marco, it has to be.

I move quickly as I hear their footsteps move, and without even glancing around the bar I follow them outside. My heart is thumping wildly, my brain is screaming at me to leave this well alone, but I already know that I can’t. I came here to see Marco, and I will see him no matter what.

Whatever he’s up to right now, I will put a stop to it and get him to talk to me. He has to, that’s all there is to it.

I keep my distance as they make their way around a corner into a dark alleyway, but as soon as they’re out of sight I keep going determinedly. I don't know those two men, so I have no idea what they’ll do to me, but I’m sure Marco will protect me no matter what. Once they are with him, I’ll be alright... I’m sure of it.

But as I turn the corner, three things happen at once.

A loud bang rings out.

The pleading guy slumps to the ground in a pool of deep red blood.

The two men and Marco turn to look at me in shock.

“Fuck. What the fuck are we going to do now?” One of the guys suggests, and I feel my body start to unfreeze. The shock is sickeningly racing right through me, but my rational sensibilities are screaming much louder than that. I need to get out of here, I need to escape before something
really
bad happens to me. This was a mistake, I don't know what I was thinking. I’m acting like an idiot all over again.

Run, I have to run.

But as I spin my body around, ready to make my escape, a pair of rough arms throw themselves around me, keeping me fixed in one spot.

3
^rd
October 2014

“
S
hh
, shh, shh,” I whisper into Olivia’s ear as she screams violently against my hand. My heart is thumping wildly in shock as my brain tries to digest the fact that she just witnessed me killing someone. Not only will that make her see me in a very different light, but the mob has a very strict view on witnesses.

They cannot be allowed to live.

A witness that has been paid off will remain quiet for a while, but a dead witness will be silent forever.

Olivia fights desperately against me, kicking, scratching, biting, but it doesn’t even affect me. I can overpower her in an instant, so she isn’t any trouble. But the look in Luke and Diego’s eyes is.

“She has to go,” Diego snaps quickly. “We cannot keep her around. I dread to think what Carmine would say to that, never mind Umberto.”

“No,” I shake my head quickly. “We can’t kill her. No way.”

“We don’t have any choice!” He practically yells as he tugs his hand through his hair, clearly stressed. “I don't fucking like it either, but what can we do?” He begins to pace, which causes my eyes to flicker over to Luke. He looks just as frustrated by this, but as if he’s slowly accepting what we have to do. I don't like these odds at all, two against one never goes well. “If we don’t kill her, we will end up dead – do you understand how serious this is? Do you get it at all?”

“Just calm the fuck down,” I reply in a calm and considered tone of voice. “It’s okay, don't worry about it. I know this girl – she won’t say anything.”

“No, dude,” Diego shakes his head vigorously at me. “It doesn’t work like that. She won’t be silent forever – you know that’s why we have this stupid fucking rule.”

He reaches out to grab Olivia, but I quickly pull her away from him. I don't know how roughly I toss her to one side, only that I’m so keen to get her away from him that I would do absolutely anything by this point. I don't care what’s going on around us, what danger I’m putting us all in, I’m simply consumed by one all-powerful thought.

I need to keep Olivia safe.

“Are you insane?” Diego screams as Luke shakes his head in shock. “Have you gone fucking mental? What the hell are you playing at? How do you expect to keep us all alive now?”

“I’ll take her back to my place,” I snap back, quickly making a decision. “She won’t be able to do anything stupid under my watchful eye.”

“Fucking hell, man, you’re taking the rap for this one,” Diego starts to walk off, as if he can’t believe what’s happening, and after one last withering look Luke follows behind him. It isn’t until they’re both gone and out of sight that I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding.

“Let me go,” Olivia takes advantage of my slack grip and pushes me off of her, sending me an awful look. “What the fuck are you playing at? That really hurt.”

“I... I’m sorry,” I gasp as I drink in her hurt expression. This is all so much to process, so difficult to deal with that it actually takes me a few moments to realize that she’s walking away from me. “Where are you going?” I grab onto her arm, which she snatches away from me. “You have to come with me. I need you at my apartment.”

“Are you kidding?” She exclaims angrily. “You were just lying about that bullshit right? You don’t actually need me with you?”

“It’s for your own safety...” I start, but she instantly scoffs.

“Fuck that, I’ll be safer alone than with
you
.”

Seeing that she’s only going to cause me trouble, I wrap her up in my arms once more, completely ignoring her screaming protests, and I carry her to my home. Luckily I don't live too far away – not because she’s yelling, but so she doesn’t attract too much attention to us – so it isn’t long until we’re inside and the door is well locked.

“Are you insane?” She screams, pumping her fists as if she’s going to hit me again. The memory of that day floods through me, and I can’t help but notice the irony that the opposite problem has produced the same effect. Then, she wanted to stay, now she wants to go.

“This is essential,” I tell her coldly, needing her to calm down. “If you go out there, one of those guys will kill you. I don't think you quite get how serious this is.”

I know for a fact that Diego and Luke, and probably some of the others will be looking for Olivia now. They’ll need her dead to keep her silent, and I’m the only one that can protect her. They probably already know who she is, where she lives, where she works, who she socializes with, her parents’ names... the mob has their ways of getting this information, and it isn’t until now when I’m on the wrong side of that, that I realize just how terrifying it all is.

“Oh, I get it alright,” she says snarkily. “I saw you put a bullet into that man’s brain.”

“Oh God,” I groan,
really
not wanting to get into this right now. “Don't start harping on about things that you don’t understand.”

“Harping on?” Okay, now she’s officially mad. “You
killed
someone. I watched you coldly and calculatedly kill that man, and now you’re acting like it doesn’t even matter. Do you know how sick that is?”

I roll my eyes knowing that it’s she who doesn’t understand. She’s always been in the middle of society, not at the bottom like me. She doesn’t get that this is a gutter trash war, and that no one really gets hurt because we’re all just fucking scum anyway. This isn’t a war that she needs to get herself involved in, she’s above it, better than all of us.

“You disgust me,” she finishes, turning away from me.

“Don’t be such a bitch,” I bite out, wanting her to keep fighting with me. I don't want her to keep heading towards the door because although I know that she can’t get out, watching her try will damn near kill me. This might be a crazy way to try and get her attention, but I can’t think of anything else on the spot. “Just because you’re a fucking princess, doesn’t mean we all are.”

She spins back to look at me with fire blazing in her eyes. Good, that means that she’s exactly where I want her to be.

“Fuck you,” she growls, and it takes all that I have not to smile. I actually have to bite the inside of my mouth to keep it all in. She’s just so damn adorable when she’s mad.

“You are nothing more than a stuck-up bitch – you always have been,” I hear myself snapping back, as if I’m completely disconnected from my body. “It was a good thing that you left, it allowed me to finally become who I always wanted to be.” I move closer to her while she’s distracted by my truly horrible words. “You were holding me back, trying to make me something that I’m not.” I try not to focus too hard on all of those amazing times when we studied together, as I held on to the naive belief that I could be something more. “You pushed me to this, and now you’re pushing me again.”

I grip onto her wrists and she barely even notices. Her eyes are filled with tears and I really have to do my best not to kiss her, to attempt to take away at least some of her pain.

“Now I need to control you, to make sure you don't do anything else stupid.”

I pull her across my apartment, and into the bedroom, an half-formed crazy idea in my mind. I can barely think straight with Olivia around me, but I cannot let her go, so I need to do something really ridiculous.

I quickly spot a glint of metal hanging from my headboard, which reminds me of a crazy night of fucking with some random chick a few months ago. I must have forgotten about them and left them there, which is actually perfect for what I need right now. They are strong enough to keep anyone locked in, and I’m the only one who has the keys, so there won’t be any way for her to get out until I decide that she can.

It isn’t until the clicking sound indicates that she’s stuck for the time being, that she actually reacts. She yanks at it harder and harder, leaving a red angry mark around her wrist. I want to tell her to stop it before she hurts herself even further, but I can’t. I cannot keep confusing what this is – Olivia isn’t here for some crazy night of fun. She’s effectively become my prisoner since I’ve inadvertently kidnapped her.

This is crazy, absolutely insane, but it’s far too late to turn back now.

“Let. Me. Go.” She snaps coldly, staring deeply into my eyes.

“No can do,” I sigh deeply. “Not while you’re a danger to yourself.”

With that, I turn away from her cute red face and I wander back out into the kitchen, clicking the door behind me. As I pour myself a strong whiskey, I expect to hear yelling and screaming coming from the bedroom, but it’s oddly silent. I’m so intrigued that I find myself wandering back to press my ear up against the door, just to hear her sobbing pathetically.

I can almost see her in front of my eyes, curled up in a heap on the bed, wondering why I’ve done this to her, and it makes me hang my head in shame. I just cannot believe that this has happened, it’s absolutely fucking ridiculous.

Why the hell did Olivia have to be at that damn bar again?

Why did she have to walk around the corner at the exact fucking moment?

And most importantly... how the fuck am I going to be able to keep her away from the rest of the guys? They aren’t exactly known for giving up easily.

I’m so angry that this has happened, and frustrated too. I never expected to find myself in such a mess that I have absolutely no way of escaping. I wish my grandma were alive, I would love to be able to ask her opinion on this one. Not that she would want to even slightly discuss my life of crime with me...

Urgh, fuck!

I slap my fist against my head a few times, willing an easy solution to just pop into my head, but I already know that there’s only one thing I can do, one possible way that I can get out of this.

I have to go and meet with Carmine.

I really don't want to, because he’s such a hard ass, but I can’t brush this under the table and act like it isn’t happening either. He will already know about her from Luke and Diego anyway – there’s no way they will keep this a secret – so it’ll be much better if I face this head-on before it can spin out of control.

I glance towards the bedroom door, wishing desperately that I could just go in there and kiss her, consume her, claim her as my own, and if I wasn't so convinced that she would push me off and scream, I would do it. I would go in there and give us the best damn night of both of our lives, rather than sitting out here like a loser, just waiting for fate to have its wicked way with me.

After all, this might be the last day that both of us are alive.