Addictive Page 4
I don’t bother to tell her I understand where she’s coming from, that I’ve felt the exact same thing for Gabriel. Admitting it won’t change anything.
“Luckily, I did something right when it came to raising my son. Even though he’d known what his father was doing, he never once agreed with it. As soon as Roberto passed, Gabe did anything and everything in his power to turn the company around. It took years and harder work than I could have ever imagined, but he wanted his company, his family’s legacy to be legitimate. He didn’t want to live the life his father did. He had bigger goals. He wanted out of drug distribution and refused to stop until he succeeded. He told me once that he refused to ever leave Robby in the position his father left him in, that he wanted his son to take pride in his father, not be ashamed of him.”
I don’t know what to say to her admission. I’m too shocked to speak.
“When Gabriel lost his family, he lost himself. His rage and desire for revenge were all that fueled him. I lost my son the day Camilla and Robby were killed. The things he’s done…I do not condone them, Marley, but they aren’t who he is. He’s made countless mistakes in his quest for vengeance, and I’ve gone to bed every single night praying for his soul to be spared. I honestly never thought I’d see my Gabe again. But when he walked into my house with you on his arm…” Her voice breaks on the last word and her head drops at the same time more tears fall. Not knowing what else to do, how else to comfort her, I take her hand in both of mine and squeeze.
Her eyes lift back to mine and the watery smile she gives me causes my heart to jump up in my throat. “When I saw him with you, I saw the boy I’d raised into a young man. I saw the light that’s been missing for the past five years. You gave Gabe his happiness back, and in doing so, you gave me back my son. You don’t understand how much you mean to him, Marley. He’ll move heaven and hell if that’s what it’ll take to get you back. When my son loves, he does it with every fiber of his being.”
I lower my head with a shake. I can’t meet her pleading gaze any longer. “You don’t understand,” I mutter as I try to pull my hand back. She holds on for dear life, refusing to let go until I look back up at her.
“You have to know he’s a good man, Marley. He’s made some terrible decisions, but he’s a good man.”
There is so much passion laced through her words that I almost believe her. I want to believe her. Then I remember his face when I asked if he would’ve hurt me too, the night he killed my mother. I can’t forget that look, the uncertainty in his eyes as he stared back at me, unable to answer. To know he could have possibly hurt me that night is branded in my mind. I can’t unlearn these things about him, no matter how desperately I want to.
“I’m sorry, Annabel. I-I have to go.” I stand quickly, trying my hardest to hold the tears in until I’m in the privacy of my car.
I turn for the door just as she stands from her chair. “Please, Marley.” Her heartbreaking pleas are like lead weights on my shoulders as I rush from the café. I can’t do this. I can’t hear anymore. It’s just too much.
Resting in the chair in my office at Indulge, I stare at the fidgeting kid in front of me. Aldo had gotten word this douche bag had an in with Gianni and whatever crew he was working for, so I’d taken it upon myself to reach out and extend the friendly offer for a meeting. The kid is desperate for cash, and the track marks covering his arms combined with his pockmarked face leave little to the imagination as to why.
This is just one of the shining examples of why I detest dealing with two-bit, waste-of-space street dealers. They can’t keep their shit straight. They think just because they’re the ones directly dealing the product that they are somehow the high man on the totem pole. They typically get in over their heads and end up with a worse drug habit than their clientele. And it’s clear this kid obviously has a penchant for heroin. Fucking perfect. Just what I need to be dealing with.
Aldo dragged his tweaked out ass into my office, using the back entrance, of course. Indulge may be a sex club, but I still have a reputation to uphold; and the little fucker hasn’t stopped twitching and digging at his skin since he sat down. It’s pathetic, really. I may distribute some of the shit running through his veins right now, but I have a strict policy that none of the men who work for me are ever allowed to touch the stuff, no matter their job. If I find out anyone in my crew is using, the consequences are devastating. Fact is, if you have a fucked up junky on your books, you run the risk of having that one asshole take down your whole operation. They get desperate. And when they’re desperate, they can’t keep their fucking mouths shut.
Case in point, this kid right here. I slapped an envelope full of cash down in front of him when he walked through the door and he couldn’t talk fast enough.
“So you’ve dealt with this guy directly?” I ask, pointing to the picture of Gianni we’d pulled from the library security footage the night he left his little note on Marley’s car.
“Y-yeah. Yeah, dude. That’s the guy. Recognize him anywhere, man.” It takes every ounce of self-control I have, not to curl my lips and roll my eyes as he digs at the flesh on his neck. He’s scratched so much he’s drawn blood. No doubt, I’ll have to spray this entire room down with bleach when he leaves. There’s no fucking telling what all diseases this gutter rat is carrying around.
“And he’s the one that delivers the product directly to you?”
“Yep. Yep. He drops it and I sell it.”
“Have you ever seen anyone else with him?”
“No, man, just that guy.” He taps the picture on my desk, jittery fingers drumming an irregular beat on the top of it.
I sit back and prop my elbows on the armrests, steepling my fingers in front of me. “You got a name of the guy who runs this whole operation?” It may be a long shot, but it can’t hurt to ask.
“Nah, I don’t got a name. Never even seen the big man himself. Like working for a fucking ghost, if you ask me.”
An irritated sigh passes my lips as I cut my eyes to where Aldo’s propped against the wall. He rolls his eyes at me, letting me know he’s just as annoyed with this asshole’s presence as I am.
“What about the next drop off date? You have any clue when you’ll be getting the next shipment?”
His scratching continues, this time followed by the annoying tap of his fingers against my desk. “We usually don’t have a time and location until the day of.”
Of course not. Silly me, what was I thinking? The fact I was going to have to keep this kid around any longer than the few minutes he’s been in my office already rubs me all kinds of wrong, but there isn’t much other choice. He’s the only link we’ve had to Gianni in fucking weeks, and I’m not letting this slip through my fingers.
“Tell you what,” I say, pulling the envelope back and removing five one hundred dollar bills from inside. He watches me with beady eyes as I slide the bills in his direction and pocket the envelope. “I’ll give you this as incentive now and you’ll get the rest when you call me with a time and location for the next shipment.”
His eyes shoot back and forth between the money and me, and I know I’ve almost got him. Like I said, junkies have no loyalty. All they give a shit about is their next hit. I have one more little offer to sweeten the deal, and I know I’ll have him right where I want him. Pulling a business card from my desk drawer, I drop it on top of the bills and shoot him a friendly smile. He picks up the card and his eyes go wide. How’d I know this guy would recognize the name of the seedy as hell strip club that’s just outside the city? The place is an STD infested cesspool, but connections are connections, right? And having the hookup with a place as low class and disease riddled as this one just proved to be useful. Helping the little pecker head get his rocks off is just another way to guarantee I keep him in my pocket for a little while longer. And there’s no way in hell I’m letting him touch any of the girls at my club. I make sure every single member at Indulge is clean and regularly screened. People like this junky
in front of me aren’t allowed anywhere near my clientele. Indulge hosts some of the most influential people in the country and getting in is damn near impossible unless you run in the right social circles. Kitty’s is the perfect place for him.
“Drop my name when you get to the door. They’ll make sure you have yourself a real nice time. On me.”
“Dude, you fucking rock, man!”
He reaches out to grab the money and card, but I slap my hand down on top of it before he has a chance to grab it. “And what are you going to do to return the favor?”
“You’ll know as soon as I get the call, man. Swear to god.”
“Good.” I lean back in the chair again, a slow smile spreading across my lips. “Go. Enjoy yourself, my man. You’ve earned it.”
He stands and grabs his stuff from the desk, shoving it in the pocket of his dirty jeans. “You’re the coolest! Thanks so much, dude!”
If I have to hear “dude” one more time, I’m going to lose my shit. Aldo escorts him out of my office just as I rise to my feet and tilt my head from side to side, trying to release some of the tension that’s taken up residence in my shoulders ever since Marley left me. Every passing hour is worse than the one before.
“Brice tailing him?” I ask Aldo as he steps back through the office door.
He plops down on the couch with a tired sigh. “Yep. He’s on it until you get the call.”
I walk to the bar in the corner of the room and pour myself a generous glass of scotch, downing it quickly before refilling the tumbler. “Good. I don’t trust that fucking tweaker as far as I can throw him.”
A deep laugh rumbles from Aldo’s chest. “Once he blows his load at Kitty’s, no doubt he’ll be singing your praises on the streets for everyone to hear.”
“Well, let’s just pray the dumbass can manage to keep himself alive for a little while longer.”
I feel the migraine start as a dull throb behind my eyes and pinch the bridge of my nose to try to ward it off a little longer. Sex and booze used to be my perfect go-to stress relievers when things started getting tense. But that was before Marley walked into my life, effectively eradicating my desire to fuck anyone other than her. I can’t even so much as look at another woman without images of Marley’s perfect curves underneath me and memories of her sweet pussy hugging my cock like a goddamned glove bombarding my brain.
I’m going out of my mind and the only cure is her. Unfortunately, for me, I’ve chosen the most stubborn, hardheaded woman on the planet to fall for. I’ve had just about enough of her evasive maneuvers. This shit needs to end, like yesterday. And I’m only one more migraine away from cuffing her ass to my bed for the rest of her life, if that’s what I have to do.
***
“You sure you’re cool, babe? You know you’re welcome to crash with me any time you need it.”
Even though I’ve been back in my own apartment for a week now, Carmen still calls daily to extend the invitation for me to crash at her place. No matter how many times I tell her I’m okay, she still can’t help but worry. What I wouldn’t give for things to go back to how they used to be, even if those days weren’t what a regular person would consider normal. At least, I was safe in my solitude before Gabriel barreled into my life and obliterated my sense of normalcy.
“I swear, I’m fine,” I speak into my phone as I pull into my parking spot. “I just got home and plan on crashing for the next fifteen hours. If you call me before noon tomorrow, I will kick your ass.”
Laughter comes through the line, but it’s still not my typical carefree Carmen. Even her laughter holds concern for me. “All right, if you say so.”
“I definitely say so. I just saw you fifteen minutes ago at work, Car. I’m good. Promise.”
She huffs out an annoyed breath, but relents. “Fine. But call me if you need me, okay?”
“I won’t,” I say with a laugh of my own. “Talk later. Love you.”
“Love you, too, babe.”
I turn off the car and climb out, praying that working twelve hours straight on my feet at Fletcher’s will be enough to knock me out for at least a few hours. My body is exhausted and achy from all the extra hours I’ve been working; but with sleep eluding me, I’ve dreaded my own company. There’s no doubt that if I bothered looking in a mirror, the woman staring back at me would look as tired and worn down as I feel. No wonder Carmen hasn’t let up. I probably look like death warmed over.
A low whistle sounds behind me, startling a yelp from my throat as I spin around, hand poised on my purse that’s holding my gun.
“Shit. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”
My heart thumps in my chest as I breathe deeply to try to calm its rapid beating. “Christ, Kevin. You nearly gave me a heart attack. What are you doing here?”
He lets out an embarrassed laugh and rubs the back of his neck. “I’m so sorry. I really didn’t mean to scare you, honestly.”
“What are you doing here?” I ask again, still startled.
“Uh, I live here. Remember?”
“Oh, God. That’s right.” I recall him telling me he’d just moved here from Florida when I met him at the library a while back. “I’m sorry. With everything I’ve had on my mind recently, I totally spaced.”
Some of the tension melts from his shoulders and he gives me a brilliant white smile. “No problem. I just saw you getting out of your car and came over to say hi. That’s one hell of a ride you’ve got there.”
I look back at my white Mercedes. “Uh, yeah. It was a…gift.”
His expression is knowing as he gives me a nod. “Ah, the boyfriend I presume?”
“Ex-boyfriend,” comes out of my mouth before I can stop it. I honestly don’t know why I just admitted that to him, a guy I’ve met all of one time and don’t know from Adam.
“I see.” He clears his throat as I fidget from foot to foot; uncomfortable with the silence blanketing us. “Uh, you know. I’d be really temped to ask you out if the pain from your breakup wasn’t written so clearly on your face right now.”
I feel my cheeks burn bright pink as a nervous giggle escapes. I remember Kevin being genuine and easy to talk to from our first encounter. And I can’t deny that I find Kevin physically attractive. Gabriel has helped me to come out of my shell enough not to fear every man who crosses my path. But as handsome and sweet as I find Kevin to be, he’s not Gabriel. And I just can’t let myself accept his hesitant offer.
“Kevin—”
His bright smile tilts his lips up again. “That’s okay, Marley, honestly,” he interrupts, thankfully cutting me some slack from having to turn him down. “Just…keep me in mind, if you ever find yourself on the other side of it one day.”
God, he’s so nice. A man like him definitely would have been safer on my heart. I have nothing to say to that, so I just smile and nod.
“Have a good night, Marley.”
“You too, Kevin.”
I watch as he climbs into an older model truck and pulls out of the parking lot, cursing myself and my lack of attraction to a man who would probably be so much better for me than Gabriel. But it’s out of my control. When it comes to Gabriel Bertozzi, I’m addicted. I just hope and pray he’s an addiction I’m able to break.
Chills run down my spine as I turn the corner from the stairs leading to my apartment. I don’t know why I’ve suddenly been hit with a sense of dread, but it’s there, and there is no denying it. My steps slow as I creep toward my apartment door. I know without a doubt I locked up when I left for work, so why is my door cracked open?
Reaching into my purse and backing away, I dial the only person I can think of who may know the answer.
“Bella?” His voice rings clear through the phone, instantly easing some of my dread.
“Are you in my apartment?”
Silence stretches across the line for a few seconds before he asks, “What?”
“Are you in my apartment, Gabriel?”
“Why would I be in your ap
artment, baby?”
I release a frustrated humph while my eyes stay trained on the door. “Well, you’re the only one I know with a penchant for breaking and entering, and seeing as my front door is open right now, I just assumed it was you.”
“Where are you right now?”
His voice is hard and fast. And knowing him as well as I do, I know it’s from panic.
“I’m standing outside my apartment. Where are you? Are you inside?”
“No, my bella. I’m not in your apartment. Go get in your car and lock the doors. Stay there until I get to you.”
“What? Gabriel—”
“Get in the fucking car, Marley!” he demands.
“I need to call the police.”
“Don’t call anyone. Just get in your car and wait for me.”
Before I can open my mouth to argue, he hangs up. Turning on my heals, I rush back to my car and climb in, making sure the doors are locked as I clutch my phone in one hand and hold my purse tight in the other. I spend the next few minutes trying to figure out why Gabriel doesn’t want me to call the police when someone has clearly broken into my apartment. Suddenly, a tap on my driver side window scares a surprised scream from me.
“It’s okay, Marley. It’s me,” Gabriel calls through the glass, hands up in the air. “Open the door, baby.”
Breathing frantically, my heart threatening to pound through my chest, I hit the locks and pull the handle. He pulls the door open quickly and scoops me into his arms before I have a chance to protest.
“Are you okay?” he asks, pulling back to look me over. His hands rub up and down my arms in a soothing motion, but I’m too jittery to let it calm me.
“Y-yeah. Yeah. I’m okay. What’s going on? Why don’t you want me to call the police? My apartment was broken into. Isn’t that what we should be doing?”
He pulls me back into his embrace and I can’t fight my body’s desire to accept his comfort. Against my better judgment, I lean into his massive chest, letting his warmth envelope me. I know I’ll eventually have to pull away, but for now, I need this.