Keep: Romanian Mob Chronicles (8 page)

F
awn

I
turned
the
corner and walked down a tidy block, memories of the years Esther and I had spent here taking over. Everything was almost the same, so much so that I could picture the little girl I’d been, so hopeful, so anxious to start life. I missed that little girl, but I knew that she was gone forever, and I needed to find the woman who would take her place. Doing this would be the first step.

I walked up the small porch and knocked.

As I waited, listening to the person inside moving around, it hit me that it was nine in the morning, right around the time when most people would be headed to work, after that even.

The door opened.

“Fawn?”

Esther looked at me with question in her eyes and then stood silent.

I furrowed my brow, stared up at her, her round, deceptively angelic face a mask of confusion.

“Hi, Esther. I—”

My words were cut off by the tight embrace that she pulled me into. She crushed me against her, holding me as if she never wanted to let me go. And I held her back, tears flowing from my eyes.

“You were going somewhere?” I asked after a long moment.

“Nowhere important,” she said as she pulled back a fraction of an inch to look at me, not smiling but the joy in her eyes unmistakable. “Come in,” she said.

F
awn

The hours had
slid by like minutes, us talking about nothing and everything, the easy camaraderie we’d found in first grade coming back as if it had never been gone.

“You remember Mr. Richards, don’t you? How you were my little accomplice?” she said suddenly, turning her head toward me.

She lay with her back on the floor, ridiculously long legs splayed on the couch, the position one she’d favored since childhood.

“Grams is going to beat your butt if she catches you like that, Esther.”

For the first time in hours, her smile dropped. “Yeah, she would have.” Esther sighed and then sat up, swinging her legs to the floor and then propping against the couch. “She passed about six years ago now.”

“I hadn’t heard…”

Esther nodded. “I know.” Then she smiled. “She always said she knew you’d come back one day. I’m glad you’re here, Fawn.”

I nodded and then tried to lift the solemn moment.

“You know, I always paid for it,” I said, remembering how she’d get me to distract the old man so she could steal candy.

“You did not!” she exclaimed.

“I did. It was the only reason I went along. Why’d you do it, anyway?”

“I had a reputation to maintain then,” she said with a shrug. “It was stupid too because if Grams had ever suspected me of stealing…”

She shivered at the thought, and then Esther lifted one corner of her mouth. “Do you think Mr. Richards was in on it? I mean, stealth has never been my strong suit, but he never seemed to notice,” she said.

“He was,” I replied with a smile.

She just shook her head. “I blame you for all the years I wasted dreaming I’d be a cat burglar.”

Then she bounded up and used her long strides to go to the credenza.

“Look, Fawn!” She returned and shoved a picture into my hand.

I stared at it and then looked back at Esther. “Is that James?”

“I know, right? Little rug rat is in the Coast Guard now.”

“I can’t…” I started but then trailed off. James had been a pesky kid desperate to go wherever his cool older sister did, and now he was grown up. And I’d missed it. Hadn’t been there for any of the big moments in my best friend’s life.

Esther grabbed my hand and squeezed it tight.

“Don’t do that. What matters now is that you’re away from him, that you’re here.” And then her stomach rumbled loudly. “Sorry to interrupt this touching moment,” she said.

I laughed and then my eyes met hers.

“Enzo’s?” we said simultaneously.

An hour later, stuffed with the city’s best pizza and slightly buzzed on the white wine Esther had pulled out, we both lay on the living room floor, another scene that had played out countless times before.

“You still getting fired from every job you ever had?” I asked.

“Nope. I quit sometimes now too,” Esther replied.

“One day…”

“I’ll be employable? Maybe. But I tell them all the time if they’d just do things the way I say, we wouldn’t have any problems,” she said, her booming voice filling the room.

“I don’t think it works that way, Esther.”

“It should,” she said flatly.

I laughed out loud again, and then we went quiet, looking through the big picture window as night fell.

“I’m glad you’re here, Fawn,” she said again, this time serene.

“Me too.”

“I’m glad you got away from him.”

“Me too.”

“You could have come here. Anytime.”

“I know.”

“And you’re done now. Forever. Out of that world?”

I stayed silent, not sure what to say. And then I began. “I—”

A pounding at the door cut my words off.

V
asile

I
stood
on
the porch of the small, tidy house, but I hardly saw it or the neighborhood it sat in. The concern chased by rage left me incapable of noticing much, and I wouldn’t be able to until I saw her. That she had been so close when I’d spent hours searching for her far and wide only added to the anger.

“May I help you?” the tall, voluptuous black woman who answered the door asked.

I gazed at her for a moment and then pushed past her to enter. She stepped in front of me, silently daring me to try to come farther, no hint of fear in her face. On one hand, it pleased me that Fawn had someone who cared for her so deeply she’d put her own safety at risk. But on the other…

My patience was frayed to the point of snapping, the unfamiliar worry that had taken over when Fawn was nowhere to be found having taxed my reserves.

“Fawn,” I said, not taking my eyes away from the woman.

Her scowl dropped ever so slightly and I could see the pulse at the base of her neck speed, but she stood her ground.

“There’s no one here by that name. Now you need to leave before I call the cops,” the woman said sternly, arms crossed over her ample chest.

“Esther, it’s okay.”

Esther looked to Fawn and then to me, lingering on my tattoos and then meeting my eyes. She didn’t even make an effort to hide her scorn, but I didn’t care. Seeing Fawn had loosened the ball of tension that had taken residence in my gut.

And replaced it with a seething anger at her carelessness that almost made my hands shake. “Let’s go.” I practically growled the words, and Esther narrowed her eyes and then gulped nervously.

Fawn stood still, seeming to make no effort to move, so I sidestepped Esther and went to Fawn, searching her eyes for some explanation. I saw none, but I would get my answer.

“Vasile, what—”

She stopped short when I lifted her off her feet and turned to leave.

“Wait! You can’t do that!” Esther yelled, walking behind us, pulling hard at my arms to try and release Fawn.

I stopped and turned to look at her. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” I said quietly, hoping the woman understood that I was serious.

She stood still, mouth dropped open with surprise but eyes burning fire.

“It’s okay, Esther. I’m fine,” Fawn said.

Her current position, held so tight against my chest she could barely move, probably didn’t give the other woman comfort, but I didn’t care. What mattered was that even in the face of my anger, she wasn’t afraid.

“You don’t have to, Fawn. Not this time,” the other woman said, voice both pleading and emphatic.

“I’ll call you,” Fawn said as I walked out of the door with her still crushed against my chest.

F
awn

H
e hadn’t even looked
at me once he’d put me in the car, and the waves of rage that rolled off him made me shiver, made me wonder if maybe I’d pushed too far.

“Vasile, I—”

“Say nothing!”

His thundering voice filled with malice I had never heard from him, at least not directed at me, boomed through the car and right down to my soul. But instead of fear, his voice, icy cold and distant, sparked anger. I stayed silent, but not because he was as angry as I’d ever seen him. I stayed silent because I didn’t trust myself to have a reasonable conversation with him, not when he was like this.

So we rode back to the house, the car tense and silent, and before I could get out, he had again scooped me up and held me in a tight grip.

“I’m capable of walking you know,” I said snidely, unable to hold my tongue.

“Maybe, eh? It seems simple but you’ve proven today I can’t trust you with simple things.”

“What does—”

He turned his icy-green glare at me, and I went silent, though I still seethed with anger. We entered the house and he tossed me directly on the bed.

“If you think—”

My words were yet again cut off, but this time by his hard, insistent kiss. He conquered my mouth, not giving me any quarter, space to talk, think, barely even to breathe. He kissed me thoroughly, tongue stroking every inch of my mouth. But it wasn’t a kiss of passion. There was possession as there had always been, but something deeper, the way he kissed me, touched me almost like he needed to make sure I was really there.

I sighed into his mouth, opening to him, and he took advantage, mastering my mouth with his tongue, my body with his hands. No part of me went untouched as he moved his hands over me as if relearning the feel of my body.

And then he was gone. His hand fell away from my body, his mouth released mine, and he stared at me, eyes still icy but now deep with something else.

Two quick movements, and he’d removed the button-down shirt from my body, and in another, he’d discarded the pale pink bra underneath. I watched him as he watched me, gaze moving over the rounds of my breasts, the puckered buds of my nipples. I wanted to arch, lean forward in offering, but something in his eyes held me still. And though my mind raced with images of him touching me, he did not, but instead, pulled my pants and panties down and off my body and cast them and my shoes aside.

He’d seen me like this before, but I felt more vulnerable now, couldn’t tell what he was thinking, especially not when he stood and discarded his own clothing.

His cock, thick and hard, jutted out from the nest of darkish brown hair, and as it always seemed to, my throat went dry. And this time, I couldn’t stop the little squirm-shiver that rushed over my body, the anticipation of having him inside me too great to bear.

As he moved toward me, his cock bobbed, hitting his stomach, and even in the dim light of the bedroom, I could see the slick arousal that had gathered at the head, the other drops that leaked from him freely.

On instinct, I lay back, and he climbed atop me, his cock finding my core unerringly. He pushed in and filled me with one solid stroke. He hadn’t bothered with preparation, and I was so full, I worried I couldn’t hold him, felt the sharp sting of unprepared flesh stretching around his girth.

That sting intensified and then melted into a pleasure-pain that froze my lungs when he moved. He thrust inside me hard, unrelenting, not kissing or touching me as he had before. And through it all, he held my gaze, his eyes stone cold, unreadable, his face a mask of anger.

Before I could stop myself, I reached for him, tangled my fingers in his hair, and I thought I saw a shift in his expression, some sign of the softness I had seen glimpses of before.

But in a flash it was gone, and he hooded his eyes and thrust harder.

I squeaked out a moan and then held his huge shoulders, deciding, at least for now, to focus on the pleasure he was giving me. He’d never felt quite so distant, not even when we were so new to each other, but my body couldn’t tell the difference, and as he moved, pleasure coursed through me. When he stroked even harder, burying himself inside me so deep his pelvis pressed my clit, I exploded in climax, my eyes slamming shut against the orgasm he had ripped from me.

He went still above me, his cock throbbing inside me as he spent himself, the warm burst of his seed painting my womb.

Before my breath had slowed, he pulled away, my body feeling empty without his hardness, my arms equally empty without his body.

He stood, his softening cock, now wet with our juices, still impressive. Then he looked down at me again with Arctic eyes.

“Don’t ever do something so stupid again,” he said, and then he turned.

The remnants of pleasure dissipated in the face of his disdain, at the sharpness and censure in his tone, and I sat up.

“Something stupid like what, leave the house unattended? Go visit a friend? You said I wasn’t a prisoner here. Was that a lie?” I said, voice low in my throat.

He stopped and stood still, the broad expanse of his tattoo-covered back and his powerful legs making him menacing, an effect that only intensified when he turned back to face me.

“No, you’re not a prisoner, but you don’t understand. It’s not safe…” he said, his voice going low on the last word.

I thought of David, of the other enemies Vasile no doubt had, and realization clicked in my mind. “You were worried?”

He didn’t agree, but he didn’t deny my words either, which was answer enough. I stood, uncaring of my nudity or the trickle of cum that ran down my leg.

“I was careful. I know—”

“You don’t know anything,” he said coldly.

“What? Nothing like how that,” I pointed at the tattoo on his left shoulder, “means you’re fourth-generation clan. Or how that one,” I pointed right below his ribs, “made you and tells the story of your first murder. Or how that one,” I put my hand over his left pec, “means you can be trusted and will never snitch.” I grabbed his hands and ran my fingers across his knuckles. “Or how each of these tells the story of a clan war you fought in.”

“How do…?” he asked.

“I was there for years, Vasile. Saw everything. I know all about the Peruvians, the other clans, the Sicilians, and David who washes all of your dirty money, his father who did so before him,” I said.

“Fawn…”

“What? I told you I wasn’t stupid. I know what you are. I know what you do. And I know the risks. I just needed to see her. I owed her that much, wanted it for myself. Needed to do it alone,” I said.

He grabbed me and pulled me into an air-stealing embrace. “Fine, but don’t ever leave like that. I didn’t know where you were, and I thought—”

“Now! Take me to her now, or I’m burning this bitch down!”

I pulled away and looked at Vasile, whose surprised expression probably mirrored my own, and then we both looked toward the closed door.

“Looks like Esther’s here,” I said.

F
awn

After hastily dressing,
I followed Vasile out the door to stand in the drive where Esther stood, Oleg behind her looking like he didn’t know what to do, Sorin in front of her, his face a mix of danger and slightly unhinged humor.

“I don’t care who you are, I want to see her now, or I’ll—”

“You’ll what, huh? Call the cops?” Sorin said, his voice that mix of laughter and lethal I had come to know was uniquely his.

Esther’s eyes flashed with fire, and she stood toe to toe with Sorin, his height making her look up, something I knew was novel for her. And though her eyes flashed, she wasn’t uncontrolled, not in the least. Instead, she seemed coolly detached, determined, uncaring that Sorin stared down at her with malice.

I moved quickly to intercede, worried about what Vasile might do, but at that moment more interested in putting distance between Esther and Sorin.

Sorin turned his eyes toward me, twisted his face in that easy smile that made my heart beat a little faster, but with worry not affection. “Can you believe this, Vasile? This
scroafă
has some nerve, eh?”

“You ain’t seen nothing yet. This ‘screwfa’ is about to—”

“Esther! What are you doing here?”

At the sound of my voice, Esther tossed Sorin another dirty look and then ran to me.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Fawn! I thought that guy…”

She trailed off, the worry on her face, her furrowed brow telling me exactly what she’d thought.

“How did you find me?”

“Wasn’t too difficult. Fucking cops pointed me right to the door. Said it was my funeral if I dared come here. Pussies.”

Sorin laughed, but then quickly went quiet.

“And my guards? How did you get past them?” Vasile asked.

Esther looked at him briefly, then shrugged. “Wasn’t too hard. I just waited until they weren’t looking.”

Vasile’s face dropped as did my heart at the thought of what might have happened if she’d been intercepted.

“Esther, that was dangerous. You shouldn’t have…”

“I didn’t once, Fawn.” She shook her head emphatically. “Never again.”

Her brow was still furrowed with worry, but her lips were pursed and set into a stubborn line, and I could see her determination and her concern.

“I’m fine, Esther.”

She squeezed my hand and then looked first at Vasile, who stood silent, an indulgence I’d have to thank him for later, and then at Sorin scornfully.

“You sure?” she tossed out, not moving her eyes from Sorin.

“Yes,” I said.

She didn’t look convinced.

V
asile

Sorin stared a
t the woman, and I could see the calculation in his brain. Fawn would be fine with her. Sorin, on the other hand, who knew how he would react?

“Come, Sorin. Let the women talk.” I headed toward the car, and Sorin looked as if he would protest but then followed behind me.

“Who the fuck is that? And how did she get here? And what makes her think we’ll tolerate her sticking her nose in where it doesn’t belong?” he asked.

“She was determined,” I said. “But that’s no excuse. I’ll need to talk to Oleg. I don’t like the idea of anyone getting this close so easily.”

“I like to talk. I’ll handle it,” he said with a grim little smile.

“Just to talk, Sorin. She’s harmless.”

“I doubt it. She was about to take a swing at me.”

“You probably deserved it. She looks tough. Do you think you could have handled her?” I asked.

“Asshole,” Sorin said playfully.

“So where was Fawn? With that woman?” he asked.

I nodded. I’d had Sorin and some of the others quietly searching for her during the day.

“She can’t be doing that, Vasile.”

Sorin was completely serious now, which only reinforced how bad those hours without her had been, how she needed to understand she could never do that again.

“We discussed it,” I said, my words calm and casual and in no way a reflection of how I felt.

Sorin looked skeptical. “Discussed it? That’s it?”

“Should I beat her to prove my point?” I wouldn’t, not ever, but many others didn’t share my reserve.

“Father would have.”

“Good thing I’m not Father then,” I said.

Sorin frowned, but I could see the war in his mind. We’d loved our father, admired him, but there were things that he’d done to our mother that I wouldn’t be able to forgive, forget, and would never emulate. It was up to Sorin to decide whether he would do the same.

“I’m moving back to the house,” I said.

“You love her,” Sorin said.

“No, but she needs space, and I need to keep a better eye on her,” I said.

Sorin smiled, this time genuinely, no trace of anger at all. “Of course, brother.”