Chapter 8 - Sing
Sing - to make a confession
Izz
"...In conclusion, it is society and not psychology that leaves women dependent on men for love, prestige, and protection."
I end the essay with a flourish of my pen. Professor Varner didn't know what he was in for when he agreed to let me write a paper to make up for the exam I missed. I'm pushing my luck writing on a topic we haven't covered in class, but if he's gonna lecture me on Freud every week, then I'm gonna take the opportunity to tell him how he's wrong.
It's something I've been doing a lot these past couple days, and I'm not talking strictly about professors. I pull out the latest script I wrote for Ali to read when Cullen calls next.
Izz is a modern woman. Most guys don't understand this about her. You're going to have to take her ideas into consideration. You're going to have to trust she knows what she wants.
It may be honest, but having Ali read this off doesn't feel right anymore; not after the things he said to her over the telephone.
When she says my name, I forget who I am.
Ali told me how frantic he was about my safety this afternoon, and it melted my heart. Not to mention he says he wants to apologize but won't tell her why. The way he's protecting my honor from my cousin who I told every single detail to, is as sweet as could be. I want to give him the chance.
I haven't forgiven him. Yet. But after all that, I want to be the one doing the talking. I want to be the one to hear his voice.
I tear up the paper in my hands and grab my robe. I've gotta let Ali know to give me the phone the next time he calls.
I'm about to open the door when someone knocks on the other side.
"Izz?" Ali hisses, turning the knob and pushing it open. Cullen's standing behind her.
"What in the world?"
I blink to make sure I'm not seeing things.
"Hi Kitten," he says, with a wave. He's smiling like the cat who ate the canary.
I ain't imagining it. I could never. He's so much better in person.
"Ali, what did you do?" I push her aside and check the hall before pulling him into my room. She's gonna get the man killed, standing outside my room after dark.
"You gotta hear him out, Izz," Ali says looking between the two of us with a dreamy look in her eyes. "And you should probably lock the door. Just in case." She winks and, before I know it, she's shutting the door behind her.
It's just me and Cullen. Him in a suit, me in my nightclothes. I wrap my arms around myself and take a step back, colliding with my bed.
"You sure got some nerve showing up like this." I don't sound half as angry as I think I should be, even to myself.
"You didn't give me a choice, Kitten."
"We all got choices, Cullen."
"That's right. And I'm choosin' to be here with you. To make things right."
He turns the key in the lock and slips it in his pocket, a look of determination on his face. I hold onto the bedpost behind me for support.
"By turnin' my cousin against me and breakin' into my bedroom?"
Lamplight makes the bruises on his face seem more severe and casts his shadow clear across the room. The hint of a smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. "I can't help if your cousin likes me better than you."
"'Cause you sweet talk her over the phone."
He sets his hat on my desk careful, like he don't want to startle me. "I was pourin' my heart out to the one person who'd listen."
"There's a reason I wasn't listening."
"I know that," he says, taking a step in my direction. "That's why I'm here."
With another step, he's close enough to touch me. Good Lord, I want him to. If anything, I want it more now than I did in his Chrysler.
I still got the same ache in my chest just bein' near him, but tonight he's different. His hair's a wreck and his fingernails are bitten to the quick. He's lookin' at me like he's drowning and I'm a lifeboat.
"I need to tell you how fuckin' sorry I am for losin' my temper. For forgettin' my manners." He takes a breath. "For thinkin' I know what you want more than you do."
"I chase away a lot of guys with my expectations. They don't understand me, and I don't got time for them."
"You ain't gettin' rid of me that easy." He tugs at the sash tied round my waist, and I give in and let him pull me to him.
"You promise to be straight with me?" I ask.
"Promise." He rubs a thumb over my cheek as he looks deep into my eyes. "But what's this about other guys?"
"No other guys. Promise," I tell him easy. No other guy ever made me fly into a two-day rage. No other guy woulda put up with it either. No other guy would have talked his way past Ali. No other guy ever got hold of my head and my heart the way he has.
"Good," he murmurs before he kisses me, his lips soft and careful against mine. He's holding my face like I'm porcelain, his other hand knotted with the tie at my waist, keeping me close but not close enough.
"In your car… The way you reacted, I didn't know if you still wanted me," I try to explain.
"Of course I fuckin' want you."
"Not as much as I want you." I want to tackle him and take off his clothes. "It's driving me crazy."
"You still countin'?" he asks, taking my hand and placing it over him.
His eyes flutter closed and he clenches his jaw as I grip. Rose's instructions fly outta my head and all I can think to do is hold him there. "Seven?" I whisper in his ear.
"Not even close." Laughter rumbles deep in his chest.
"Don't make fun."
"Hey." He waits for me to look him in the face. Half-healed bruises only make him better lookin'. The sincerity in his eyes makes me feel weak in the knees. "I want you. I want all of you."
With one tug, the tie around my robe comes undone and it gapes. "I want to kiss every inch of you. I wanna know every part of you," he whispers, his lips brushing against my ear.
I tremble as he pushes my robe off my shoulder. His lips follow the same path. "So when you say I don't want you, you gotta know you're dead wrong."
"Why did you stop us then?"
Cullen takes a step back and runs a hand through his hair.
I got a real knack for putting an end to things.
When he finally looks me in the eye, it almost seems like I hurt him. "'Cause it don't make sense, someone like you wanting someone like me."
How do you make sense of a feeling? I know how I do it.
"I could make you a list of the reasons why I want you."
"I bet you could," he tells me under his breath. A wicked grin spreads across his face.
My hands fly to my hips. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"Gimme one?" he presses. "Tell me why you want me."
I shrug off my robe, fold it neatly and leave it on the bed. Cullen can't take his eyes off me as I take a step, then another, until we're chest to chest.
"My top three reasons? I like what you got going on up here." I go up on tiptoe and give him a kiss on the temple. I let my lips linger, paying attention to the warmth of him. How he smells up close. How his hands clutch at me while I take my time.
"And in here," I tell him, a hand firm over his heart. "The way you take care of those two kids…" I can't find the words for what I'm feeling. It's how I looked after Emmett but more, 'cause he's giving his brothers everything he can.
Cullen pulls me to him so this time there's no room between us when we kiss. This time there's no doubt how he's feeling. His hand skirts from my waist to my backside, holding me against him.
"Two," he finally says, outta breath and clutching at my nightgown.
I giggle. "If seven ain't right, you gotta be way off with two."
"That was only two reasons."
"I thought you woulda guessed the other by now." I bite my bottom lip and glance down between us as I press myself up against him.
"Christ, Kitten." His voice is rough as his hand travels the length of me. From my backside, up and over my hips, 'til he's toyin' with the tie of my bodice. "I wanna see you."
"I'm right here, Cullen."
He tugs at the ribbon 'til it's undone. "This okay?"
A shiver goes down my spine. Looking up at him, I've got no doubts. This is the fella I've been waiting for. "You're not gonna stop halfway through again, are ya?"
"Probably ain't a good idea goin' too far with your family just on the other side of that door."
As long as it's locked, I got no problems. "I can be quiet."
"I don't think so, doll."
Cullen looks pleased with himself as his fingers trace the curve of my neck, along my collarbone, to the swell of my breast. He's so gentle, I can hardly tell what he's doing.
"You want me to keep goin'?" he asks, his thumb grazing over parts of me no one but him ever touched before.
My forehead falls against his chest as I whimper.
"Is that a yes?" He tips my head until I'm looking into his eyes. I let him know with a nod.
When he lowers his lips to mine, I'm in a whole other world. Lost in the feel of him hard against me, lost in all the ways I want him. His fingers trail along my shoulders, under the straps of my nightgown. With a slip of his hands, silk rushes over skin and my nightgown hangs from my hips.
He rests his hands on my shoulders. "I can stop any time. Just say the word."
"Stop what?"
Cullen shakes his head. He looks like he's trying his best not to smile as he takes off his jacket and lays it on the bed, then backs me up against the bedpost. All it takes is a tiny tug and my nightgown puddles around my feet. "I've been thinking about number eight."
I glance at his trousers again, but I get the feeling it's not what he's referring to. Whatever it is, it only has to do with me. He's towering over me, his jaw tight, appreciating with his eyes. With every breath I take I'm more aware I'm not wearing a stitch.
Then he touches me, running his fingers along the side of my breast, like he's outlining my body, memorizing each curve.
"You're a priceless piece of art, ya know that?"
"Not even," I tell him, just before his lips crash into mine.
Grabbing hold of my thigh, he hitches it over his hip and presses me against the bedpost. He fits his hand between my legs, his finger running back and forth, taking my breath away. "This what you want?" he murmurs, his lips against mine.
"Is it what you want?"
"I want you so much in so many ways, I can hardly breathe sometimes."
I laugh a little 'cause I'm having a hard time breathing myself. And I sure can't think with his finger teasing me. I press against him and the tip slides just inside. My breath catches in my throat.
"You're so fuckin' soft," he tells me, driving his finger deeper. Moving gently, deliberately, slowly stretching me 'til I feel like I'm turning inside out. His breath is hot on my neck, on my breast as he whispers curses, swearing to God mixed with sweetness. He adds another finger and I'm afraid I might crumble, fall right apart.
"Shh, Kitten," he whispers into my ear. "You promised to keep quiet."
I had no idea I was making a sound.
When his thumb starts circling on the outside as his fingers dip, I can't help it. I'm swearing just like Cullen,begging for something I'm not even sure of. His kisses keep me quiet, all the while my hips move with his hand, building and bringing me to life. I cling to his shoulders and he grips my backside like his life depends on it.
And my life does depend on it. I'm sure of it, like I never been sure of anything else ever before. He don't stop until it's like my whole body's singing and I'm lit from the inside out. Until I forget everything but this feeling. Until there's nothin' else.
xXxXx
Laying on my bed, I wrap lazy limbs around Cullen. My robe is draped over us like a blanket.
"You're fucking beautiful when you come," he says as he places softs kisses on my forehead and my lips.
"Another first," I admit.
His arms tighten around me. "Yeah?"
"Why in the world do people need a cigarette afterwards?" I snuggle up next to him. "I don't need anything but you."
"Shh, you gotta keep quiet," he tells me, a finger against my lips. One of the fingers that made me sing. I snap at it playfully, then kiss it. On impulse, I slip it between my lips, kinda practicing how Rose told me.
"Keep teasin' me and we'll have a situation on our hands I ain't got it in me to keep quiet about."
"Seems like it's your turn though." I climb on top of Cullen and wriggle my hips as I brace my hands on his chest. He bites his bottom lip.
"We'd be pushin' our luck." He nods toward the door.
"What about tomorrow night?" It'll give me time to steal a couple of Siobhan's novels. I need all the help I can get.
His hands glide from my hips to the sides of my breasts and back again.
"Wish I could, Kitten." He looks me in the eyes. "I gotta work."
"Selling bibles on a Sunday night?"
Cullen's body shifts underneath me. His muscles tense, his chest tight like he's holding his breath. It's gone from the two of us together to him alone in this bed. "Bootleggin'," he finally admits.
He don't have anything to worry about. I'm over the moon he finally came clean.
"I know already," I tell him, leaning down to give him a kiss. With another, he starts coming back to me, parting his lips, holding my hips, letting the feeling between us slowly build. Just when I'm about to go for his trousers, he rolls us over so I'm on my back.
"Still ain't scared you off, huh?" he asks, pushing hair from my face.
"I'm not scared, Cullen. More curious than anything. I've been tryin' to figure out if you work for Johnny Russo or Marcus Volturi."
"Johnny Russo?" He shakes his head and falls onto his back like it's the most ridiculous idea he's ever heard.
"Volturi's better?" I ask. "Either seems just as dangerous."
"Marcus is better than most, but sellin' liquor for him ain't exactly how I saw my life goin'."
I can't imagine Cullen any other way but dapper and dangerous. I prop my head in my hand, playing with the buttons on his shirt. "How'd you see it?"
He shrugs and takes my hand in his. "Thought I'd learn a trade. Draw on the side. Meet a girl... Start a family."
When Cullen finally peeks my way, he's no self-assured bootlegger. He's a drop-dead handsome fella who made himself vulnerable for a girl. I may not be the good girl he's lookin' for, but I'm willing to volunteer. Clearing my throat, I point a finger at myself and bat my eyes.
"It ain't a joke, Kitten. Don't you want a guy who's gonna live past thirty, for Christ's sake?"
I grab my pillow and swat at him, but he snatches it away and tucks it under his head.
"Don't say that, okay? Your family needs you. I..."
I need him... but it makes no sense. I just wrote in my essay how it's society making me feel like this, but I ain't got society in my heart or between my thighs. I'm just getting to know Cullen. The thought of him dead and buried makes my eyes sting and my heart ache.
"Marcus needs me too," Cullen explains, pulling the robe back over me. "In some ways he's more of a father to me than the one I was born with. Taught me what loyalty is, how to own up to my mistakes."
"Well, a father shouldn't doom his kid to an early grave."
"A father shouldn't drink himself to death either. Pop's liver gave out when I was twelve. Ma checked out after that."
"It's a good thing you met Esme."
"Yeah. Did odd jobs for her until one day Marcus paid a visit. The guy saw somethin' in me most didn't. Offered me steady work. Eventually I ended up sellin' booze, makin' more money than most jobs pay when you ain't got a degree or time to go get one."
"You're not a kid anymore. You could do something else."
"Not 'til I get Ma outta Hell's Kitchen and Carl into college."
I skim a fingertip along the outline of the bruise on his cheek.
"What about Jasper? And what about you?"
"At this point, I'm just tryin' to keep myself from killin' the kid, if he don't get himself killed first. You know where I found him today?"
"The docks again?"
"I fuckin' wish. Kid wandered into a neighborhood he had no business in."
I've got some sympathy for Cullen and for Jasper too, for that matter. I'm not exactly known for doin' what I'm told, but I never had to worry about wanderin' somewhere I don't belong. Daddy would have the entire police force looking out for me.
"Was it the Denali's or the Black's territory?" I wonder.
Cullen narrows his eyes. "You know 'em?"
"Only what I overhear from Daddy."
He takes me by the shoulders and searches my face. "You ain't had any run-ins?"
"Run-ins? With bootleggers? You're the only one I know up close and personal."
Cullen sighs and his hands slide to my waist where he hugs me close. His heart pounds in my ear. "I worry my line of work might put you in danger."
"I can take care of myself."
"I got no doubt about that, Kitten. All the same, I wanna make sure you know how to get in touch with me in case you can't someday." He reaches over and grabs a pen and a writing pad from my nightstand. "Father Pete or Esme can always track me down. You can give either of 'em a ring."
He jots a few numbers, tears the paper from the pad and hands it over.
"Miss Esme?" I ask, tracing his handwriting with my fingertip. It took me weeks to get into her speakeasy. Now I got her direct number. Life sure moves fast when you're seeing a criminal.
"Try not to let this list fall into the wrong hands," he tells me with a kiss to my forehead.
"What in the world are you going on about?"
"Some lists ain't made to be seen is all."
"Why are we talking about lists when I got you here in my bed?"
"You're right." he tells me and takes the note from my hand and drops it into the drawer of my nightstand. Makin' himself comfortable, he wraps an arm around me. "No place I'd rather be."
I rest my head on Cullen's chest. He's still as I play with his cufflinks. Growing bolder, I run my hand up and over his bicep and trace the contour of his chest. I'm grateful when he doesn't flinch as I slide my hand along his ribs. One, by one, by one I feel more certain he's healing. His chest rises and falls, his breath is warm on my forehead. And even though this has been my bedroom since I was a little girl, I don't think I've ever been home until now.
"What are you thinking about?" I whisper.
"The beach," he says quiet.
"What about it?"
"You ever been?"
"Of course. To Coney Island a bunch of times. And down in Florida when we picked up Ali and Siobhan."
I look into his face. Cullen's staring up at the ceiling, lost in his memories. "I've only seen it at night."
I hold myself back from asking names. His past don't matter. He's here with me. "Sounds romantic."
He grins like I just told a joke. "Believe me, it ain't."
"Would you take me sometime?" The idea of the two of us at night with the stars in the sky and waves crashing gives me the chills.
"It's not exactly safe at night, Kitten."
I give his shoulder a shove. "I kept myself safe for nineteen years, Cullen."
Rolling to his side, he looks into my eyes. "You didn't do a very good job. Still ended up in my arms."
I nestle up against him like the kitten he's always callin' me. "Yeah, I did."
xXxXx
At first, I try to ignore the sound of the front door opening and the way the house shakes as it's closed. I pretend I don't hear the metal grating of the deadbolt as it locks everyone securely inside. It's far away and what's real is lying next to me in bed. I cling to Cullen, but Daddy's heavy steps on the stairs are hard to ignore.
"That's my cue," he says with a sigh. Sitting up, he looks from me to the door. He pulls the key from his pocket and tosses it onto the bed. "Guess I ain't leaving the way I came."
"You can go out the window."
The regret in his eyes is almost too much to bear.
"I wish you didn't have to," I tell him as he slips his feet into his shoes.
"I wish your father didn't have a bullet with my name on it," he says as he shrugs on his jacket.
A floorboard creaks in the hall and I struggle into my robe like my life depends on it. Cullen grabs his hat and heads for the window.
"I wish I could just introduce ya," I say, meeting him there as he slides open the pane.
"That'd get us both killed, Kitten."
I sigh. "How come all the best love stories end like that?"
Cullen stops with one leg in and one leg outside the window. "That what this is, doll?"
"Yeah, I think so," I admit. At first I can't look at him. I stare at my bare feet and wriggle my toes. This night changed me, and if this ain't a love story, I don't know what is. I climb onto the window seat and into his arms.
I gave him the rest of me. I can't go withholding my heart.
Cullen don't hold back either. He kisses me thoroughly like he ain't scared of Daddy down the hall. Like he's gonna use every last second of the time we have together. He kisses me like he's determined I remember it and his fingers dig into me like he's trying to remember it too. Gripping my thigh, my backside, my waist, until he's left holding my face careful in his hand. He kisses me until I'm trembling, until I'm ready to crawl onto his lap and finally take off his trousers.
"Maybe next time we work our way up to number nine," he whispers in my ear.
Fire Island, 2020
"Hold up, Mom!"
I blink and I'm blinded by midday sun. Waves crash at our feet, spraying the two of us with ice cold water. In the distance, Jason screeches. My husband chases after him as they play a new game of theirs called Bootlicker.
"What is it?" I ask Emma.
"You're telling me Cullen got into the house, up to Kitten's room, apologized, and then the two of them just talked until her dad came home?"
It's admittedly the PG version of events, but this is my daughter I'm talking to, and we're talking about her great grandparents.
"There's no way to know exactly what happened," I hedge.
"I don't buy it," Emma says, drawing in the sand. "Cullen and Kitten can't seem to keep their hands off each other."
"This was almost a hundred years ago. It was a different time."
She rolls her eyes. "Like people weren't attracted to each other a hundred years ago?"
"I'm just sticking to what's important to the story."
"Their chemistry is so important!" Emma insists. "If it weren't for… that, would me and you even exist?"
I can't argue with her there.
"Listen, I'll give my version of events. Feel free to fill in the blanks with your own ideas," I tell her.
Emma smirks. She shakes her head as she looks out over the horizon.
"What?" I ask.
"Like you haven't been doing the same thing as you tell it."
She's got me again.
Kitten
I daydream my way through Sunday. Ali and I huddle in my room, our heads bent over Aunt Siobhan's favorite books. We've been at it for over an hour and I still have no idea what a number nine is.
"Did you faint?" Ali asks. "Every woman in here faints dead away."
"No, but I might have swooned. That's halfway to fainting, isn't it?"
Ali and I both practice swooning before we dissolve into a fit of giggles.
"I think I woulda fainted," Ali admits. "You were right here. This room. No clothes at all?"
My cheeks burn and I hide my face.
"Mama would lecture about cows and buying milk."
"I don't need a lecture, Ali. Not when I want the milk too." I scour the pages in front of me. "If I could just figure out how to get it."
"It's says here to... let him have his way," Ali reads.
"What about my way?" I ask, grabbing the worn book from her hands.
"You're not gonna know your way 'til you try it."
I grab a pad and a pencil from my desk. "Maybe if I make a list of everything I know."
"You and your lists," Ali says, throwing a book at me. "He's dead gone for you, Izz. You don't need any list. I promise."
"Lemme just write some of this down so we can get Siobhan's books back in her drawers before she notices."
"She's ain't worried about books right now, that's for sure."
Ali's probably right. Aunt Siobhan's been in a state all day 'cause Daddy's bringing someone important to dinner. She's planning an elaborate menu: a rack of lamb, mashed potatoes and peas, butter rolls, and a pineapple upside down cake for dessert. Daddy says Siobhan and her cooking's half the reason he's gotten as far as he has in this city.
"What's the other half?" I asked him once. "Hard work? Brilliant ideas?"
Daddy got this funny look in his eyes. "You concentrate on the cooking part of it, baby doll. Then you can get your man where he needs to be in this world."
Clearly any man of mine's gonna have to get ahead on his own merits. I'm more of a hindrance in the kitchen than a help. It's why Siobhan shooed me upstairs.
Emmett pokes his head into the bedroom and Ali shoves Siobhan's novel underneath a pillow, quick as a flash.
Em narrows his eyes. "Do I even want to know what the two of you are up to?"
"Girl stuff." I explain, grabbing a powder puff from my vanity.
Ali giggles as she tries to inconspicuously slide another one of the novels underneath my bed.
My brother wrinkles his nose. "I'm just here to get you for dinner."
"Who's the surprise guest?" Ali asks. "Mama's so thrown I half think it's the mayor."
"Probably just another City Councilman." At this rate, I've met 'em all. Or it could be a rep from the Police Benevolent Union. Say what you want about Daddy, he takes care of his boys.
"I bet it's a Federal agent," Emmett says with a confident nod of his head. "I heard Daddy on the phone the other day. I think the Feds want to work with him to get rid of all the illegal liquor."
I grab Em by the shoulders. "You heard Daddy talking about the Feds and bootleggers?"
Emmett grins. He don't usually have the scoop on Daddy's business. "Pretty cool, huh?"
"It's somethin', alright," I tell him, a chill running down my spine.
Of course, it's not news that bootleggin's a federal crime. The only thing that's changed is I'm seeing a bootlegger. For a second, I think about the telephone numbers I have stashed in my desk drawer. But I can't run to Cullen every time my little brother hears a rumor.
When the three of us walk into the dining room, it's clear it ain't the mayor. It's not a councilman or a union rep. It ain't a federal agent, either.
"Jake Black, these are my children, Isabella and Emmett Swan."
xXxXx
"Mr. Black and I already met."
The clock ticks on the mantle as Daddy looks between me and our guest… Mr. Black. He's only got eyes for me, even as he shakes my brother's hand. I ain't never gonna forget the way this man leered at me in my own home the other day. The way he held onto me like he was taking ownership.
"Isabella and I met when she was on her way home from… where were you on Thursday?" Mr. Black asks me, pretending he's forgotten.
Daddy's eyes narrow.
"School, of course." I say so loud Ali jumps. Aunt Siobhan looks disapproving as she sets down the dinner rolls.
"Yes, college," Mr. Black says, chuckling. "Higher education. So progressive of you to let her attend, Charlie."
He claps my father on the back like they made this decision together. Aside from Mama and Aunt Siobhan, I don't think I ever heard anyone call my father by his first name. Least of all someone named Black.
It's gotta be a coincidence.
"Izz has a good head on her shoulders." My dad wraps an arm around me like he's showing off just how good a head I got. "The man who lands her will get more than they bargained for."
Mr. Black nods approvingly as he looks me over head to toe. "I have no doubt."
"Gentlemen," Aunt Siobhan interrupts. "We can talk about my niece and her proclivities while we eat. The food's getting cold."
Over dinner Mr. Black goes on to brag about how many women he has working in his offices. He stares direct into my eyes when he mentions how mathematics was his favorite subject in school.
Ali clutches at my hand underneath the table. We've been down this road before, but Daddy usually gives me warning. Usually the men are nervous and polite. Usually I can keep 'em tongue tied, and when Daddy's sees I'm too much for the fella, he calls it quits.
Tonight, Mr. Black doesn't back down. The meal don't end early. Over dessert he's even bold enough to offer Emmett an internship in his offices. My jaw drops as Daddy encourages it.
"Em's hardly keeping up with his schoolwork as it is," I remind them.
"What difference do grades make if you've already got a job lined up?" Mr. Black says to my brother. "The sooner you can bring home some dough, the sooner you can find yourself a dish of your own," he says, licking pineapple syrup from his spoon.
"Thanks, Mr. Black, but I want to follow in my Father's footsteps."
"We could use more men like your father." Mr. Black pushes his chair from the table and looks around the room. "That's certainly in everyone's best interests."
"How do you know my father again, Mr. Black?" I ask, staring him down.
"Yes, yes," Daddy says, blotting his brow with his napkin. "You and Mr. Black should get more acquainted. He can tell you all about his construction contracts with the city. How businessmen and officers work together to get things done."
"I got a paper to write."
"Isabella," Siobhan hisses. "Manners."
"Don't know why I should mind my manners when my father's trying to sell me off like a head of cattle."
A slow smile spreads over Mr. Black's face. "Fair point, Isabella. Grant me ten minutes. No need for politeness. I'm confident we can reach an understanding without cowherd or cattle prod."
xXxXx
Daddy's all too eager to leave me and Mr. Black alone in the parlor. It makes me sick. This guy's everything Cullen ain't - cold, calculated, and underhanded. I don't understand how my own father could be such a bad judge of character and get me all wrong at the same time.
The man sips at a cup of tea as he inspects the pictures on the wall. It don't feel right having him look at the portrait of my mama with me in her arms. He runs his finger over the spine of the family bible, and I shiver like he's got his hands on my bare spine instead.
When he turns around, he catches me watching and I'm ashamed. I fold my arms across my chest and hold my head high. "You got somethin' to say to me, just say it, Mister."
"Yes, let's get right to it, shall we?" He leaves his teacup on the mantle as he stalks toward me.
I don't move a muscle. Sizing the guy up, I decide how I'll take him if it comes to it. He don't look all that tough. He's not gonna scare me in my own home.
"Your father says you're not seeing anyone." He raises an eyebrow as he stands right in front of me.
My blood practically boils. He's close enough to hit. My hands ball into fists. "None of your business."
Mr. Black smiles but it don't reach his eyes. "I don't know if that's true."
"I don't know how to be any plainer, buddy. I ain't interested in you in any way. Not for business. Not for pleasure. So I think you should get the hell outta here while I'm still being civil."
"Don't be like that... Kitten."
Cullen's nickname for me is like a knife to my chest. I stumble backward and hold onto the back of an armchair for support. "What did you call me?"
Mr. Black takes a step in toward me like he's going in for the kill. "See, I knew we had something in common. Or should I say someone?"
"I got nothin' to say." I pull the chair between us as I plan a punch to his gut, a knee to his balls, then his head against the marble fireplace.
"Oh, you will," he tells me.
"I want nothing to do with you. I'll make sure Daddy knows all about you the minute you're gone."
"Yes, we've both got stories we can tell your daddy. We could both tell him how Oyster Bay is real nice this time of year."
I ignore the way my heart's hammering in my chest. I ignore the way my lungs can't get enough breath. Because he knows and I gotta keep my head.
He knows I've been seeing Cullen. He knows where we went on Thursday. Daddy will kill Cullen if he finds out.
I want to vomit, but I swallow down the bile in my throat. Mr. Black leans against the fireplace mantle and casually takes a sip of his tea.
"I'm gonna tell Cullen you were here. Marcus Volturi ain't gonna let anything happen to him."
Mr. Black chuckles and shakes his head in pity. "Marcus Volturi will kill him without thinking twice."
"That ain't true. I know it."
After taking another sip of tea, Mr. Black places his teacup carefully back in its saucer. Then he plucks the armchair off the floor and moves it out of the way. "Volturi had him beat within an inch of his life less than a week ago."
"No. That can't be right."
"Who did he tell you beat him like that, Kitten?"
Cullen never answered the question.
"If Volturi laid into him like that over a little liquor, what do you think he's going to do when he finds out Cullen's fucking the Commissioner's daughter?"
I don't think twice. I sock his jaw, then punch him in the belly. Black doubles in two. It's almost too easy. The high-pitched yelp when I knee his balls ain't half as satisfying as it should be. While he's bent and breathless, I push with all I got, and he topples over the coffee table and onto his backside, limbs splayed, hair hanging over his forehead.
"Don't you ever speak to me like that again," I hiss, then spit at him for good measure.
"He don't know ya, does he?" Black licks the blood from his lips. "You're no kitten. You're a wildcat."
"Get the hell outta here now." I point toward the front door.
Black gets to his feet and smooths his suit. "I'll be back next Sunday, Kitten. Your Daddy and me got a standing arrangement. It's good to see a father take such an active interest in his daughter's future."
I take a step in his direction, my hands balled into fists. But he's on guard now and I'm not sure I can take him with my bare hands.
Black watches me carefully. "There's nowhere to turn, wildcat. You know what your father will do if you tell him who you've been seein'. So, I'm gonna come back here a week from today and we're gonna have polite tea in this pretty little parlor. And you're gonna tell me all about your beau's activities."
"I'm not helping you take him down."
Black grabs his jacket from off the couch. "That's where you got it wrong. I'm asking you to take down the bastard who beat him. We're on the same team, Kitten."
"You're even worse than he said, Mr. Black."
"Don't surprise me at all. Cullen's underestimated me for years."
A/N: What is a Kitten to do? Send your best guess in the form of a review.
Thanks to the usual suspects: to SueBee The Shiv our beta extraordinaire, and to Chrisann and Kate - two stand-up dames, as in they keep us standing. Thanks to everyone who's read and reviewed! Until next week, dolls.