You Don't Own Me: A Bad Boy Mafia Romance (The Russian Don Book 2) (17 page)

December

Zane

Our sweetest songs are those that tell of saddest thoughts.

- Percy Bysshe Shelley

A
s soon as I finish the call I rush to Dahlia’s room. The nurse is exercising her legs, and usually I would come back, but today I cannot wait.

‘Could you finish that in a bit?’ I ask.

‘Certainly,’ she says and, placing Dahlia’s leg gently back on the bed, covers it and leaves the room.

Dahlia’s hair has started to grow back. It is not yet two inches long, but it is enough for Stella to bring some pink clips and get the nurses to decorate it with them. To be honest, I don’t like the clips. I’ve never known Dahlia to wear anything so babyish. She was always a woman thru and thru and now between Olga, Stella and the nurses she’s always dressed like a kid.

I run my finger on her cheek. ‘Oh, Dahlia, Dahlia,’ I sigh softly. ‘When will you wake up and come back to me?’

Careful not to touch any of the tubes and lines running into her, I rest my forehead against hers. My lips brush her eyelashes. I close my eyes with the familiar sensation. This should have been such a happy moment, but it feels so sad.

‘You did it. You really did it. Guess what you did, my little thieving angel?’ I whisper. ‘I just had a phone call from the great Andre Rieu. I thought it was a prank call until he told me that a violinist named Eliot Scarborough had called him. I know you went with Stella to a client called Eliot so I pricked up my ears and listened.’

The sharp edge of the plastic juts into my cheek. I lift my head, take off the clip and smooth her hair.

‘He said Eliot sent him a few pages photocopied from a symphony I composed that my girlfriend had apparently given to him. It was all meant to be a great surprise. And believe me it was. An unbelievable surprise,’ I say.

‘Anyway Andre said he wanted to personally thank my girlfriend because during his many years as a celebrity composer and conductor with his own orchestra, he is inundated daily with phone calls, emails and letters from people who have composed arias, overtures or waltzs, all begging him to play their work. Over time he came to the conclusion that a new Johann Strauss or Mozart were things of lore, until he played my music.’

I smile at her.
Please be listening, Dahlia. Please respond to this news
.

‘He said he almost fainted when he heard it. He thought it was grand, exciting, romantic, and fabulously enthralling … and, wait for it, he wants me to send the rest of my notes because he wants his orchestra to play my symphony!’

I stop and put in as much excitement as I can into my voice.

‘You did that, little fish. You made it happen,’ I say, my voice throbbing with excitement, while my heart weeps with sadness.

She doesn’t wake up when I hold her, thank her, touch her or talk to her.

January

Olga

I
t is Dahlia’s birthday. I have baked a chocolate cake from a recipe I found in the American cookbook I bought, and the girls have spent the morning decorating her room with lots of balloons. I have also cooked a lot of food for the boys, and Noah has brought in a crate of vodka. The house looks festive, but there is an air of sadness that cannot be erased. She was the light of the house. When she came she brought fun and laughter and noise and now that she has fallen silent the house has become like a tomb.

I saw Zane this morning and he looked as he always looks nowadays: haunted.

I hear the doorbell and I know it is Stella. When she comes in I see that she has been crying. I open my arms out and she runs into them.

‘Oh, Olga. I can’t bear to see her like this.’

‘Shhh ... she will wake up. Give her time,’ I say gently.

She pulls out of my arms and dashes away her tears roughly. ‘What if she doesn’t?’

‘I know she will.’

‘What makes you so sure?’

‘I don’t know why I’m so sure. I feel it inside me. Just like I knew when she came to live in this house that she would become the mistress of it one day. I just know she will wake up.’

‘Well, you’d better be right,’ she says gruffly.

‘Do you want a cup of coffee or do you want to go in and see her now?’

She sniffs and blows her nose from a tissue she finds in the pocket of her jeans. ‘Thanks. I’ll just go see her first.’ She wipes her eyes. ‘I’ve got a surprise for her.’

‘You do?’

‘Yup.’

‘Run along then, child.’

‘OK, see you later.’

Stella

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nrIPxlFzDi0

I pop my head around Dahlia’s door and find both the nurses standing by the window chatting. They turn to look at me. Jane, the older nurse, grins.

‘Will you look at this place?’ she asks.

I step into the room in wonder. ‘Wow! Are balloons a Russian thing?’

She giggles.

‘It was that kid Nico. He was like a monkey climbing up the walls.’

I glance at Dahlia. No change there.

‘Well, give us a shout when you’re finished,’ Corrine says.

‘OK,’ I say taking off my coat.

When they have gone out and closed the door I approach. ‘Happy Birthday, Sleepyhead. How are you today?’ I ask as I take my computer out of my bag and put it on the table next to her.  ‘Mark sends regards and birthday wishes. I told him I’ll bring him some birthday cake.’

Later I will call Daisy so that she and her mom can wish Dahlia Happy Birthday, but not yet.

‘I’ve realized what is happening in this place,’ I say.

‘Zane is filling your head with classical music and as much as you claim to like that stuff you must be really missing the good stuff by now.’ I take out my iPhone and my Beats Pill Bluetooth speaker from my bag, turn the volume up, and hit play. The sound of the Rolling Stones blasts into the room.

Zane

Everyone is gone. The party is over. I drank a lot, but I don’t feel drunk. I pick my way through the streamers lying on the floor and go over to the French doors and stare into the darkness. All that noise and shouting and she never woke up.

My shoulders slump as I exhale.

Suddenly the spotlights in the garden come on. A fox and her two cubs have wandered into the garden. The first thought that crosses my mind is,
I wish Dahlia could see this.
Then the thought:
she will fucking see it if it’s the last thing I do
.

I take my phone out and film them sniffing around. The cubs are small, fluffy, and playful, and I know they will make her smile. They came to visit her while she was sleeping.

The creatures find nothing, and eventually they disappear into the area of the garden not illuminated by the lights.

I sit next to her and gently lay my head on her arm.

‘I got you a birthday present,’ I whisper. ‘Two tickets to Beyonce’s concert. Stella told me you’ve always wanted to see her perform. Here’s the best part, I’ve arranged for you to go backstage to meet her. It’s next month. The 18
th
of next month. We’re going together. I’m just going to put these tickets right here until the day comes.’

I go and sit at the piano and I play for her with all the pain and passion that exists in my body. I play until the early morning hours. Then I page the nurse, and when she comes I go to bed.

March

Dahlia Fury

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3YxaaGgTQYM&nohtml5

(Bring Me to Life)

I
am standing very still in a white room. There is nothing in the room but a white table and six white chairs. The room has no windows, but it is filled with a white light that is very bright but it is not blinding. It has no source, just seems to be everywhere. It permeates everything. Even me. It flows through me giving me perfect peace, perfect bliss.

Time doesn’t exist, at least I don’t feel it passing. I know I am waiting for something or someone, but I don’t know what. I don’t feel anxious. I feel peaceful. Sometimes I think I can feel someone touching me. I’m not sure because I can’t see that I have a body. A nurse. She has cool, impersonal hands. A needle pricking my arm. A tube down my mouth, my neck lifted up … and yet I have no body.

Strange. Bewildering and alien, but I am not afraid. Everything is perfect here.

Other times another touch. A man. I know him very well, but I can’t understand what he is doing there. Our fingers entwined. It’s familiar and fills me with longing, but I don’t know what for.

There are other voices. Indistinct but happy. They reassure me. I’m glad they are there even though I cannot make any sense of what they are saying or why they are there.

Often I hear beautiful music, and there is so much love and sadness in the music. It feels as if it is calling to me but I cannot get to it.

Zane

So what if we didn’t make it to the concert. There will be others.

Stella

Oh! My smokehouse! You are not going to believe what happened, Dahlia. This is big. This is
real
big. Mark and I kissed!

April

Noah

I
rush to Zane’s study and knock on his door. Even before he can call, ‘come’ I open it and enter.

‘What is it?’ he says springing up in alarm.

‘You have to come with me. I have to show you something,’ I say quickly. I can barely contain my excitement. My heart is beating in my chest.

His face becomes pale under his tan. ‘What’s wrong?’ he asks urgently.

‘Just come with me,’ I urge, and start pulling him down the corridor.

He falls into step beside me. Outside Dahlia’s door I pause and look at him. There are lines on his face that were not there a few months ago. How much he has changed. I turn the handle and let him enter.

He stops almost immediately. Then he runs to her bed, his hands outstretched. He touches her skin. He stares down at her face. He listens to her chest. Then he turns to me.

‘What the hell?’ he shouts wildly.

‘The new maid accidentally turned off the wrong switch while she was vacuuming,’ I say.

He starts laughing. Like a mad man. ‘Fuck, Noah. She’s breathing on her own,’ he shouts.

I start laughing too.

His eyes are shining. ‘This is good,’ he says. ‘It’s fucking good.’

I nod and he rushes to me, throws his arms around me and pulls me into a great big bear hug. For a second I am too shocked to do anything, then I hug him back tightly.

When he lets go there are tears in his eyes

‘Shit. I’m crying,’ he says. He wipes them with the sides of his hands. ‘I’ve never cried tears of joy in my life. I never even knew what the phrase meant.’

‘I’m really glad,’ I say softly.

‘Who took the tube out?’

I point at Jane who is standing silently by the curtain. ‘Jane did.’

He turns to look at her. ‘Great. Just great. Well done.’

Then he turns to look at me, shaking his head and grinning from to ear to ear. He turns back to Jane. ‘Have you called the doctor?’ he asks suddenly.

‘The doctor is on his way,’ she says.

‘Well done,’ he tells her. He faces me. ‘About the maid, give her a bonus, two years’ wages, and fire her. Get someone more experienced to clean Dahlia’s room.’

‘Yes, boss.’

He goes back to the bed and looks down at Dahlia, his eyes roaming her face possessively.

He turns his head to me. ‘I can’t believe it, Noah,’ he says with a big grin.

‘I know,’ I say. ‘I nearly had a heart attack myself when I came in and saw what she had done.’

He laughs again. A deep belly laugh of pure joy

‘Right, I’ll be outside if you need me,’ I say, and leave the room.

Stella

‘You may not be able to see me right now, Dahlia, but I’m freaking killing it doing the happy dance!’

June

Zane

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_Dat9CRV800

I
t’s a hot, muggy night, and it’s been one of those days when I feel her loss more keenly. As Bernadette told me, there’ll be good days and bad days. You just have to weather the bad days and the good days will roll on in.

I decide to go and have a drink at the Matrix.

Not since Dahlia was ripped away from me have I been there. I enter the club and look around. Nothing has changed. I walk to my usual table and sit. A waitress comes to ask what I want to drink. She must be new. I haven’t seen her before. I order a large vodka.

‘And bring the bottle,’ I tell her.

‘Yes, Sir,’ she says.

She brings a full bottle and a large vodka on a tray. ‘Will there be anything else, Sir?’

‘I’ll let you know,’ I say, picking up the glass and raising it to my lips.

She slips away, and I drink. More than half the bottle is gone when a woman’s voice asks, ‘Zane?’

I lift my head. A woman with curly blonde hair and a tight short dress is standing in front of me with her head tilted and her eyebrows raised. I frown at her. She looks familiar. Yup, I think I remember her. We met through a mutual acquaintance at a Casino. She is Swedish or Norwegian.

She smiles. ‘Remember me?’ she prompts.

‘Vaguely,’ I say.

‘I’m Abbie, a friend of Zio Tito. We met in Monte Carlo, last year?’

I nod.

‘Are you alone?’

I spread my hand out and let it flop down.

She laughs. Low and sexy. Yes, I remember that. Abbie, the consummate flirt. ‘Do you mind if I join you?’

I gesture to the space next to me and she takes a seat, gracefully aligning her body so her smooth legs are ever so slightly apart and slanted towards me. She has the kind of golden skin that only true Nordics can have.

‘So what’s Zio Tito up to these days?’ I ask.

She pulls a face. ‘Doing time in Italy.’

I smile dryly. Of course he is. ‘What’s he in for?’

‘Some kind of ticket touting online racket.’

Truth is, that is the fate of most criminals. In and out of prison.

The waitress comes and Abbie orders a White Russian. I didn’t expect it to hurt that much, but I feel it like a stab in my gut. That’s Dahlia’s drink. What the fuck am I doing here? We sat here. Right here on this very seat. A deep painful breath shudders through me.

She immediately puts her hand on my thigh. ‘Are you OK?’

The shock of having another human being touch me makes me instantly look at her hand. For a second my intoxicated mind believes it is Dahlia’s sweet hand.
It is the thigh scratch
. My confused gaze flies up to the face that goes with the hand. And there it is: the invitation to fuck. As clear as daylight.

Do I want to fuck?

Yes.

It must have shown in my face because she moves closer. Her perfume hits me, foreign and thick, and suddenly I am nauseated. Sick to my stomach. I stand up unsteadily. I want to fuck, but not you. I want my Dahlia.

She stands too. ‘Are you all right?’

I wave my hand at her. ‘I’m fine.’

I weave through the crowd, pushing people out of the way. I don’t belong here. I need to get back. I need to keep watch. She may open her eyes and not find me there. I need to get back. I reach the door, and Noah grabs my shoulder.

‘Come on,’ he says. ‘Let’s get you home.’

I look into his eyes. ‘Yeah, take me home.’

I slump at the back of the Merc with my hands over my eyes. I don’t know how much longer I can hold on. I can’t go on like this. Something’s got to give. The car lurches, and my head hits the side of the door.

God, I’m such a fucking mess.

The car stops and I stumble out. Noah tries to help me but I push him away. Yuri has the front door open and I sway past him. I go down the corridor and open the door to her room. The nurse is reading a book by the lamp. When she sees me, she immediately puts the book down and stands up.

‘Go now,’ I tell her harshly.

Quietly, she goes past me. I take a few steps into the room and look at my little fish lying on her bed. Fuck, it never fails to amaze me how perfectly still she sleeps. Even if I watch her for hours she will never move a muscle, and yet I know she is in there. I walk up to her still body. I am glad for the silence. I used to hate the eerie rasp of the ventilator. I love watching her breathing. It means she is alive. I touch her face.

‘Wake up, little fish. Please. Wake up.’

She doesn’t open her eyes. Something tears inside me. I gently push the blanket covering her. She is dressed in a soft loose cotton shirt. I lift it up. She is wearing a diaper. Gently, I undo it. It is clean. The skin around the tops of her thighs is without redness or rashes. Good. The nurses have instructions to check her diaper and turn her once every hour to ensure she never gets bedsores.

I stare at her pubic area. The hair has grown back. It is not trimmed or clean-shaven as she sometimes used to have it. Strange, how totally unerotic it looks.  In my head I can hear that nurse say, ‘Sometimes when we brush their teeth or shave them they will open their eyes.’

Maybe.

I look at her sleeping face.

Tenderly, I spread her legs and put my tongue into the damp slit. No one sees me. Not even the moon. As soon as my tongue touches her soft flesh my eyes begin to fill with tears. Oh shit. What the fuck am I doing? Tears pour down my face as I lick her. She doesn’t even taste the same anymore.

Wake up, Dahlia. Wake up.

She doesn’t become wetter. She doesn’t wake up, and I just feel worse than the most disgusting pervert. I fix the diaper back and cover her with the blanket. I kiss her cheek.

‘I love you, little fish. I really, really do,’ I whisper.

She makes no response.

‘OK, sleep well. I’ll see you in the morning.’

I lurch away from the bed and open the door. Immediately, the nurse gets up from her chair. She goes into the room and closes the door. I trudge upstairs and lie on my bed, but I can’t sleep. I am filled with an indescribable restlessness. Eventually, I get out of bed and go to the cupboard. Inside a drawer I find the box. I open it and take the male masturbator out. ‘For when I am not here,’ she said.

Oh, Dahlia.

I lie on the bed propped up against the pillows. I apply the lube and switch on the gadget. I think of myself licking her, not the way she was today, but the way she was when she first came to me.  She had been so full of life and as proud as a queen. God, how different I would have been if I had known then what I know now. If only I’d known how little time there was.

The machine whirls softly. In my head I part her thighs and enter her delicious body. She writhes and moans in ecstasy.

‘Fuck me hard, Zane. Fuck me.’

Her eyes are closed. Her body is arched. I take her nipple in my mouth and she groans with pleasure.

‘
Come inside me, Zane. Fill me with your hot cum.
’

I climax hard, my body jerking, crying out for her.

For some time I lie there, too exhausted and defeated to do anything. Then I take the masturbator off and clean myself. I crawl under the duvet and try to sleep. Tomorrow. Maybe tomorrow she will open her beautiful chartreuse eyes.