Authors: Anne Mercier
He nods. "I will not tolerate insolence from anyone nor will I stand by while she disrespects my granddaughter." He takes a drink of his scotch. "Pet, indeed. Serafina would chew her up and spit her out."
"No doubt."
"So tell me, how did you fuck up this time?" he asks with a smirk.
"Dick," I mutter and take another drink.
Giovanni laughs.
I tell him and he nods. "Honesty is a must with Serafina. You did what was right."
"It still bit me in the ass," I tell him and drink some more.
He nods. "It usually does but it would have been much worse later on."
"Likely. But this isn’t good. It’s not good at all."
"She carried on as though she was interested in Kingston. No one can fault you for entertaining the possibility. I, myself, considered it," Giovanni admits.
"I should have known better."
"How could you, when neither of you know how to speak to one another of your feelings?"
"We discussed all that, Gio."
"Yes, now. But it might have helped then. Communication, Cage. Isn’t that what I taught you about business?"
I nod.
"The same applies to relationships... especially with a woman such as Serafina."
"I can’t force her to talk to me, Gio. I tried on multiple occasions to discuss what happened, to work past it and move forward, but she ran. She always fucking ran." My fist hits the bar with a thud and conversation within the club comes to a halt.
Giovanni lifts a hand and everyone carries on as they were.
"She runs, yes. You know why."
I nod. "I do. I’ve given her every reason to trust me."
"And then you tell her the truth and make her feel like you don’t know her at all."
I slam the drink back, welcoming the burn again.
"I’m not the only one who thought that, Giovanni. That’s the way they wanted it to appear," I say in my defense.
"Yes, but you’re the only one whose thoughts she gives a fuck about. And, you of all people should know that not everything is as it seems," he reminds me.
I nod. He’s right. Carina and I have never been what we appeared to be. It was all for show. Just because it looked like we were involved and fucking, doesn’t mean we were—and the same applies to Sera and Ben. Shit.
"I don’t know how to make this right. I can’t change it—the fact that she knows I thought she and Kingston were fucking." I’m definitely not drunk enough to know I’ve lost her.
"No, you can’t change it, but you
can
make it right. There’s always a way when there’s love involved. Do you think Carlotta and I have always gotten along?" he chuckles. "I could tell you stories. Serafina will need some time to cool off, but don’t give up. Keep trying. Let her know you’re not giving up. Call her. Text her. Hell, stalk her. Just remember, Cage, there’s always a way."
I nod again.
"Now, let’s get you home before you’re too drunk to walk."
"That was the plan," I mutter.
"I figured as much but it’s not a good one."
"Why the hell not?"
"No one here can carry you," he chuckles.
I grunt. "There is that."
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B
roken by Seether feat. Amy Lee
Titanium by David Guetta feat. Sia
Bed of Lies by Nicki Minaj, Skylar Grey
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"U
H-OH," XANDER MUTTERS
when he steps onto the terrace where I’m eating my breakfast.
I look at him out of the corner of my eye but don’t say a word. Lucy shakes her head at him, warning him I’m really not in the mood and that’d be putting it mildly.
Xan plops down in a chair next to me. "Hmm."
I continue to ignore him and take a sip of my coffee.
"What happened?" he asks.
"Dude," Jesse warns.
"What?"
"Ever think it’s none of your business?" Jesse asks him.
Xander scoffs. "Nah. It’s all my business."
"Not this time," Lucy tells him knowingly.
"She tell you?" Xander asks her. Lucy shakes her head.
"Not yet but she will when she’s ready."
I look to Lucy and tilt my head to the side in acknowledgement, then pop another bite of watermelon into my mouth.
"Fuck that," Xander mutters. "I want to know now."
"It doesn’t fucking matter what
you
want, Xander," Kennedy scolds.
"Leave her the hell alone," Ethan cautions.
"Dude," is all Jace says, but it speaks volumes.
Ben just glares at him.
Meggie and Trace remain quiet but watchful and supportive.
Spenser walks out onto the terrace. "Serafina Rosalie Manzini. What the hell have you done to your hair?"
I flinch. "Shampoo ad," is my reply.
Spenser makes a throaty noise of distaste. "Horrible shampoo. Hair-killing shampoo. We need to give you a hair treatment. Today."
When I open my mouth to give an excuse, he interrupts.
"And don’t even think I’m letting you give me some bullshit reason why you can’t sit in a chair for an hour or two with your books while I fix what they destroyed in less than a day." He makes the sign of the cross.
I just nod, knowing better than to argue with Spenser.
"What are you doing here, anyway? I thought you were shacked up with the big bossman," Spenser says unknowingly.
I don’t know what it is about that sentence that does it, but I snap. I set my fork down on the table and Lucy gasps. There’s a red haze surrounding my vision, the anger, the hurt, it fills me. I can feel the flow of it and I stand up and throw my plate across the terrace, watching it soar through the air toward the bar where it hits and shatters. My bowl is next. Then my glass, and with the glass comes an anguished scream.
"Sera, baby," Xander begins. I cut my gaze to him and he immediately sits back.
"What is going on out here?" Mrs. Martinez asks from the terrace doors.
I walk toward her. "I’m sorry Mrs. M."
"It’s alright, Sera. It’ll be alright," she says reassuringly.
I shake my head. No. It won’t.
C
age:
I’m sorry, Sera.
Cage:
Can we talk?
Cage:
Please, Fee.
A gurgle bubbles up in my throat as I make my way through CFD to the kitchen to grab a soda.
"Holy fuck," Jace murmurs at the noise and Ethan looks up from his spot on the sofa, confused.
I look around for something, anything. I grab a turquoise vase and hurl it across the room. It barely misses Ethan’s head when it zings past to the fireplace where it shatters.
"Christ almighty, Sera. You almost hit me," Ethan declares.
I shrug. "Almost only counts in horseshoes and hand grenades." I barely send him a glance then continue to the kitchen, the anger inside me palpable. I pour the cola into a glass with ice and Xander walks in.
"Maybe you should use a plastic cup," he tells me innocently.
I turn to glare at him and he flinches. I seem to be getting that reaction a lot today.
Xander sighs. "You need to talk about it."
No. I fucking don’t. My hand flexes and I put the soda can in the recycling bin.
"Sera," he says, pushing me when I have no more room to be pushed.
I pick my glass up in one hand, the cold refreshing against my hot skin. I look around—anger, rage, they need an outlet. I grab a cupcake from the counter and smash it in Xander’s face, swirling it around and around, then I pat his cheek twice and stalk off.
T
HE FIRST BOUQUET OF ROSES
arrives an hour later. I merely throw them in the trash, only to have them put somewhere in the house by Mrs. Martinez.
The second and third arrive together and knowing she’ll only save them from the trash, I stuff them, one by one, into the garbage disposal. Misty watches knowingly, not muttering a word, she just continues on cooking. I admit the flowers didn’t do anything to me, but I’m not ready for anything pretty in my life. Not yet.
"Y
OU’RE NOT GOING TO HURT
me are you?" Spenser asks when I walk into his domain.
I raise an eyebrow. "Are you going to ask me about it?"
"Hell no. I’d like to live another day," he tells me, leading me over to the sink. He wraps a towel around my neck, then one of those plastic capes. I lean back and the warm water bathes my scalp. I relax a bit into the chair and let out a sigh.
"You’re wound tighter than a clock. I’ll give you some extra scalp lovin’."
When Spenser applies the shampoo, he works it into my scalp with his fingertips and I let out a moan. He tsks but doesn’t say anything else. He rinses and then wraps a towel around my hair, blotting it dry.
"What? No conditioner?" I’m a little disappointed. I wanted more scalp massage.
"Oh, there’s plenty of conditioner coming in the form of scalp and hair treatment. Promise me you’ll never do this to our hair again," he pleads.
"I promise." I make an X over my heart.
"I think we can fix it easily enough, but—what kind of shampoo was it anyway?"
I rattle off the name.
He scoffs. "Well that explains it. That shampoo is not for your hair. That’s for those with greasy or oily hair. Yours is healthy and sometimes borders on dry."
I nod, looking remorseful.
Spenser opens a large jar of white goo that smells deliciously like a fruity cocktail. I breathe deeply and relax as deft fingers work the product into my scalp and hair. I’m about to nod off when Spenser speaks up.
"Why don’t we have you lie down over there? We need to let that set a good while. Carmen can give you a massage if you like?"
I blow out a breath. "I’m sorry. I haven’t been sleeping well."
Spenser just nods.
"Let’s get you up on the table here," he says, helping me. "Just lie down and relax. Nap if you need to. I’ll wake you when it’s time to rinse."
"Thanks Spenser."
He rests a hand on my shoulder. "Anytime doll."
Carmen helps me strip off my bra and shirt. I lie down and within minutes of her miracle fingers working their magic, I’m asleep.