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Beta'd by HollettLA.
WOW! The response to chapter 19 was mind-blowing. LOL. I've read each and every review, and I would like to thank you all for leaving me . . . most of you left kind words...*snort* while some of you did not like the Sonny/Maggie pairing. It's okay. I just hope you all stick around. They are but one part of this story/crazy cast of characters. THANK YOU!
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VERY important A/N at the bottom. Please read.
"Riders on the Storm"
Chapter Twenty: Gotcha
Edward POV
For the first time in a long time, I was home alone. I'm a grown-ass man, and yet I wanted to utilize this time—while Kylie and Bella are at the salon—to maybe pop a porn into the DVD player and jack my cock. It'd been a while since I did that—had time to just sit back and relax.
Since I didn't want to get caught . . .
Bella acts like me whacking off is cheating on her with my hand…or an indication I don't get enough.
Sometimes, a guy just likes to grease his own weasel and watch some ol' nasty shit.
When I found out Bella and Kylie were staying until the salon closed—I'd called under the guise of bitching about my dinner, because I bitch about that a lot—I lined up two shots of Jack, and then tried to figure out what video I'd watch. It'd be something kinky—something Bella wouldn't watch but would giggle at and critique. She doesn't appreciate a select few of the fine films I have—like that lesbian orgy, vampires from space one. It's the lesbians I dig. The rest is just an added visual bonus. I don't understand why my wife doesn't like it. She enjoys that fantasy crap.
It was quiet, too, which made me twirl around the kitchen like a child.
Ahhh . . .
Silence.
With excitement in my heart, I skipped up the steps, and then the motherfucking doorbell rang.
All I could do was stare—stuck, disappointed—while I wondered who would dare disturb me. The world doesn't know I was about to masturbate, but fuck . . .
When I saw who was at the door, I was fast to open it. It was Mr. Sullivan—Maggie's father. "Hello," I said.
"Is Maggie here?"
I shook my head. "No. Everything okay?"
"Lord in heaven . . ." He held his forehead.
"Sir?" I inquired.
"I know she's been spending a lot of time with your daughter. They run in and out of our house, too—"
"Was she working today?" I never bothered to ask about Maggie being at the salon. Why would I?
"I—I—" The man looked close to tears. "I don't think so."
"Come in." I opened the door wide for him. "Have you tried calling her?"
"Maggie doesn't have a cell phone." He kept his head down. "We haven't seen her in days . . . Well, her mother is staying with Maggie's grandmother—she's ill."
"I'm sorry to hear that," I said.
"The Lord will be taking her shortly . . . I've been working 'round the clock, and then I have commitments at the church. Our daughter has been ditching Mass, but…as children get older they sometimes go against the grain. We're trying to-to have faith in Margaret." He had a bit of an Irish accent or something.
I nodded.
"I trusted Maggie was at school, or here. You and your wife have been very kind to let her stay here while her mother is out of town."
"Excuse me?" I, personally, hadn't seen Maggie since Halloween.
He didn't elaborate about that, still very upset. "I didn't think—and now—I haven't seen my daughter in days." He met my gaze. "But I figured she was here…then the school called. She hasn't been to school in two days either—it was a teacher checking up on her. Supposedly, I called her out sick two days in a row. Is she sick?" The poor man was beside himself.
"Hold that thought—don't get upset. I'll call my daughter." I gestured for him to follow me up the steps. "Please, have a seat."
"Are you sure she's not here?" He craned his neck, trying to see down the hall.
"She's not. Please—relax." I pointed to the settee to keep him from wandering around.
He politely declined, choosing to pace around the great room instead.
My leg bounced, my temper getting the better of me as I called the salon. Bella picked up. "Is Maggie there?" I asked.
"No…"
"Well, where is she?" I kept my voice down.
"How should I know? She works per-diem, Edward."
"Put Kylie on—"
Bella groaned, but did as I asked.
"Yellow?" Kylie sounded cheerful.
"Where's Maggie?" I asked.
"I…home?" My daughter was lying.
"Try again," I said. "And why does her father think she's been staying here?"
Silence.
"Kylie, I swear to Christ—"
"MaybeBecauseShe'sBeenStayingWithSonny. I gotta go." She hung up on me.
"Motherfuck—" I was ready to throw my cell across the room, but I had to calm down. Maggie's father was here—and if I was in his situation . . . Fuck. I should loan him a nine and take him to Sonny's crib.
But I thought Katie was staying there? She could be staying with Aro or something. When he gets pissy with Sonny, he avoids me, too—that's the fucked up part about our kids dating and having problems, and . . . having their own kids.
I haven't seen Sonny since Halloween either . . .
Hearing about him from others—actually, that he's been canceling sit-downs and such—I shrugged it off as he left Eclipse before I got there, or we'd missed each other. He's hardly been at the club, which was why I didn't question or call him when he canceled meetings. I knew about him not being around regularly. He was supposed to be slowing down for a bit.
"Mr. Cullen?"
"Yes?" I whipped around, my hands full of my hair. "Oh…Maggie's working. She'll—she should be home by—" I forgot what fucking time it was now. "They close at nine."
"She's at the shop?"
I nodded. "I don't know why she missed school . . . She hasn't been here during the day. I promise you that."
"I knew this would happen." Motherfucker was beating himself up. "Her mother was always very strict—now, we give an inch and she takes a mile."
"Kids do that," I whispered, sticking my hands in my pockets. "I can call the salon—tell my wife to send her home right away . . ." Having a hunch he wouldn't ask me to do that, I called his bluff to get him out of my house.
"No, thank you. I'll see her when she gets home. Thank you." He shook my hand, and then I walked him out.
As soon as his ass crossed the street, I grabbed my keys—getting into my car, while I also called Sonny's cell phone.
Driving the few short blocks, I'd managed to call him eight times—all calls unanswered. I should have called Eclipse, but I was already jumping up the stairs to the apartment. "Open up." I banged, hearing music playing.
"Who's there?" It was a female.
"Edward—Edward Cullen. Is Sonny—"
Katie opened the door for me, and she looked even bigger than when I saw her weeks ago. She had tearstains on her cheeks. "I thought you were Sonny…"
"Where is he?" I asked, walking in.
She sniffled. "I don't know. I haven't seen him in days. He comes home while I'm not here," she cried.
"Don't cry." I patted her back.
"He leaves cash, gets groceries, and leaves me vague notes . . . Like I'm a dog and this is my kennel." She spat, her tone laced with venom.
"Whoa . . . relax."
She rubbed her stomach. "He's not answering my calls. I called my dad—"
"You did?" Well, I thought that was just great.
"He said if he saw him…he'd send him home. I have an appointment today, so—I'm hoping Sonny didn't forget."
"What time?" I looked to my watch, seeing it was a quarter to five. Maybe I could drop her off, and then go find Sonny.
"5:15 . . . If he's not here already . . . I'm just going to cancel my appointment. I don't feel like going anyway—we were supposed to do this stuff together!" She hiccupped. "I'm sorry."
"He'll be home tonight," I said. "You have my word, but..." Okay, so a large part of me wondered why she cared. She blatantly ignored Sonny while he was here . . . but it's just like a woman to want him when he's gone.
"You relax. Okay?" I leaned over and kissed her hair. "He'll be home tonight."
Then I was a flash of movement running down the steps. Believe it or not, the tanning salon is opposite Sonny's apartment, on the other side of the avenue. He could actually keep an eye on it from his window if he wanted to. You'd think Katie would waddle in there from time to time, but she doesn't.
And that's an issue for a different day, I thought as I ran across the street.
"You!" I pointed to Kylie.
"Edward?" Bella stared at me.
"Get over here." I called our daughter over with my finger.
She kept her head down as she walked closer.
"Where's Maggie?" I knew if I found Maggie, I'd find Sonny—or vice versa.
"Sonny's really happy—" She had the nerve to smile wistfully.
"What?" Bella asked, coming from around the counter.
Kylie put her hands up. "My name's Paul and that's on you-all."
"My name's Dad, and if you don't tell me, I'mma be mad!" I pulled on her ponytail.
"Edward!" Bella slapped my hand away.
Kylie wore a pout, and I cautiously glanced at all the customers waiting in the lobby.
"That's child abuse!" Kylie bitched.
"You're an adult—so it's just abuse, and if you don't tell me—" I waved my finger.
"Call her—"
"Maggie doesn't have a cell phone," I said.
"Sonny bought her one."
"What?" Bella and I asked in unison.
"What's the number?" I dug out my phone.
Kylie did the same, pulling up a text log.
I tore the phone out of her hands. "Hey!" She grabbed for it.
Since I can't follow those things well anyway, I just handed it back to her—while I tried not to beat the info out of her. "You know where she is," I said.
Kylie bit her lip, looking to Bella and then to me.
Bella advanced toward Kylie. Our daughter doesn't fear me, but Bella has the ability to scare the shit out of her—same thing with the boys and me. "Tell your father where she is, or I'll make your life so miserable—"
"I spoke to her this morning." She rushed out. "Maggie—she said something Walrus. I couldn't make it out. They were—they were doing it, and I hung up." Kylie shrugged.
"The Waldorf," Bella said.
I gritted my teeth, holding my breath, my body shaking.
"Edward…calm down." Bella placed her hands on my biceps. "We have customers…"
"Daddy, are you gonna go there now?" Kylie was smiling. "I miss Maggie-Mags...Can I go with you?"
"Yes," Bella said.
"No." I shook my head, because I'd never clip Sonny in front of his sister, and Bella knows that.
"Mom trumps you...I'm getting my purse." Our daughter skipped to the back.
I took a step forward, for Kylie, for her neck, and I wasn't even sure—
"Edward?" Bella whispered.
"I'm going to explode." I gritted out.
"Deep breaths." She puffed her cheeks, exhaling as she ushered me into the break room.
"Did you know?" I asked her.
"No." She snorted. "I figured since Damion and you have beef, and now Damion and Sonny have beef, that's why no one was getting together. You boys have your secrets—"
"Just stop." I didn't want to fight—fighting with Bella was the last thing I wanted to do.
"And now you'll have beef with Sonny. I shouldn't count on seeing anyone until Christmas or until Dame has no clean underwear and he's tired of chafing!" She was yelling at me anyway. "Fix this shit, or tell me what's going on, so I can!"
I didn't say anything, wishing a motherfucker would . . .
"And Sonny's seeing Maggie…what's the big deal?"
"The big deal?" I asked. "Sonny's almost thirty years old!"
"He's twenty-seven." She rolled her eyes.
"And he's sleeping with a child!" Now I was just sad. "You think this is okay? Carlisle pulled a stunt like this back in the day—"
"Candace was sixteen...and before they met up again, had Ant, it was a one-night stand."
"Still...Sonny with the different women." I groaned. "Look, I get it. I was the same way before I met you—"
"Sonny...my son, is nothing like that old Carlisle." She scoffed. "Sonny respects women."
"My brother taught Sonny everything he knows as far as broads are concerned..." I trailed off.
"My son is not a douchebag. Maybe he sleeps around...maybe he likes sex. Fuck. We all do," she sang. "He's not committed. He knows how to treat women. And she's not a child. She's the same age as Kylie, so you—only you—see her as a child, but they're young women." She picked lint off my coat.
"Shorty's in high school. Sonny graduated ten years ago!" I didn't know why she had no problem with it. "Neither one has been home in days . . . and Little Miss Tramp's been skipping school—"
"Now she's a tramp?"
I ignored her.
"Maggie's not a whore," Kylie said.
"Get!" That was all I could say to her, and she ran away. "Our twenty-seven-year-old son is shacked up at the telly with a CHILD, and neither has been seen in days. Sonny has a baby on the way, and he's buying his girlfriend a cell phone—motherfucker probably doesn't even have a crib yet!" I ranted.
"She's eighteen, and now that I know her . . . I mean, I was against Dame being with her, but she was seventeen then. Regardless, it's a passing fling." Bella waved a hand. "It makes him happy now, when Sonny's been miserable for months. They're not breaking any laws…"
"Ha!" I shouted. "I wish it was that simple."
"Your personal rules don't count." She grumbled, fluffing her hair. "Furthermore, I can't believe I'm okay with this and you're not."
Bella stared me down. "Sonny and Katie aren't together . . . I was upset at first. But what's he supposed do? Wait around for her like some dog, waiting for her to throw him a bone...? Not my son." She rolled her neck, the 'tude coming out. "And Aro's just a hypocrite. He lived with Lauren for months while he was fucking this one or that one . . . Then he runs off and gets married in secret in Hawaii . . . while the ink isn't even dry on his divorce. You see Aro—" She waved her finger. "You tell him if he places a hand on my kid, I'mma pop a cap in his ass."
And my anger was gone, because now I was trying not to laugh at her.
"Also, Katie is just like her mother . . . miserable, crying wolf or playing the Saint card. Fuck that." Now she was waving a fist. "Katie cheats on her husband, leaves said husband because she's carrying Sonny's kid—puts him through all this emotional garbage over a bullshit issue, manipulates him, but my son is a the bad guy...? I don't fucking think so. She likely realized she just…the feelings weren't there anymore. How else can she just turn her back?"
"I don't know," I whispered.
"It's best we let them work it out."
"Ha!" I pointed at her. "Look at you—pulling this high and mighty bullshit. You're all in their business—gossiping with Alex all the time."
"Get out, 'cause now you're pissing me off." She pushed me.
"Kiss me."
She grinned, pecking my lips. "Don't be hard on him—you can't help who you fall for. Plus, like I said, I think this is a fling. Let him have his fun. You know how Sonny is—he's like you—he's not like Carlisle when it comes to women and relationships. He probably wants to spend money and dote, and Bitch Katie is probably too proud."
"There was a time when you were too proud—"
She shook her head. "I was poor, and you never get something for nothing. I was afraid of the power—"
"Shut up. I'm leaving." I placed my lips to hers, while she laughed into my mouth. "I want a blowjob later...and we watch Vampy Hoes from Mars."
"Go!" She pushed me out, and Kylie wore a grimace. "Yes, I blow your father." Bella waved her away, too.
I threatened to pull my hair out before I even reentered the car.
"Can I drive?" Kylie asked.
"No—"
"Why?"
I groaned. "Because we're going into Manhattan—"
"Oooh, the city!" she laughed, entering the car. "Can we go to Saks?"
"No." I joined her, placing my seatbelt on and starting the engine.
"What if we shopped for Mom?"
I paused, thinking about that. Maybe we couldn't do it beforehand, but afterward...? It might calm me down. I love buying Bella shit because she never buys anything for herself. "Maybe another time." Heaving a sigh, I reached to put some music on.
"Maggie's so lucky . . . I wish Gio was rich."
I snorted, forgetting about the radio. "You don't wanna know the filthy things Maggie's doing for those gifts. I'm not calling your friend a whore, but if she wasn't doing anything . . . she wouldn't be getting anything—"
"Hell...I do filthy things for free! Fuck it. Gio should buy me shit—oww." Yeah, I yanked on her hair again. "I'm just saying…"
Before I kicked her ass out of the car, I turned to face her. "Kylie, baby girl—" I went to touch her cheek, but took my hand back—afraid I might strangle her. "You don't ever have to buy me a birthday gift or a Father's Day gift—ever again—never, ever, ever again—if you just stay quiet—while I drive."
She opened her mouth to speak.
"No." I waved a finger. "Think of how much money you'll save—and how many ugly t-shirts I don't have to pretend to wear."
She gasped.
"Please," I begged. "We both know I'm not the World's Greatest Dad!" I mock punched her shoulder.
She folded her arms across her chest, looking out the window. "I don't wanna talk to you anyway. You're on a roll!" She barked. "In a few hours, all your children will dislike you." She stuck her tongue out.
And I reached for it.
"Th'addy—what the hell?" She pushed me.
And I sighed, collapsing back, because she was right.
Damion fucking despises me—thought he was going to be a hit man or something special. But the only interesting job I have him doing is collecting, at least that shit was fun for me—and he can't even do that shit right. He comes back empty-handed, "They didn't have the money," so I have to send him back with another one of the guys and a fucking bat to get my motherfucking money.
He doesn't think that logic makes sense. If they don't have the money, beating them won't make people produce it.
That motherfucker's wrong.
You'd be surprised how big an incentive a broken leg is.
People pay me.
Damion doesn't like chillin' with the other low-men. He's dating Amelia, and they're all pigs who serial cheat on their girls.
He's not fitting in at all—gives me a hard time all the fucking time; meanwhile, he's hardly ever around. Damion is too busy with school. And that's why he doesn't get along with those other dudes. My son is a lot smarter than them. He's on a whole different level education-wise.
Damion still wants to do what he wants when he wants to do it.
And I'm not giving in—not one inch.
"You're a mean, miserable man! And I know you get laid—"
"What?" I looked to Kylie.
"I hear you guys all the time. Do you know how emotionally scarring that is?" She was fucking with me.
"Shut up—"
"Mom's a screamer."
Okay, so maybe she has heard us.
"Oh, can we go to Eclipse?" she asked.
"What?" I shouted, and I didn't even know she knew Eclipse existed.
"You gave me my first Jager shot . . . you can pay for my first lap dance." She batted her eyelashes. "And I wanna feel a silicone boob." She gasped. "Can you get me implants?" She pushed her chest out.
"Get out!" I pointed. We were still parked in front of Sonny's house.
"I was kidding! You can't take a joke. My God…" She sniffled, and I leaned over to see if she was really crying. She wasn't. She was faking. "Why are you being so mean to me?"
"I'll give you one hundred dollars if you don't say another word—"
"One-fifty." She wiped her eyes.
"Deal." I put the car in drive.
"Can I say one more thing though?"
I put the car in park. "What?"
"I love you."
I jutted my lower lip out. "I love you, too, baby." I pinched her cheek.
"And I'm silly . . . I talk a lot of smack, but . . . I just do it to get your attention." She stared out the window. "I'm not nasty."
"I know." I nodded. "You say what's on your mind—you have no verbal filter, and that's what makes you honest and endearing."
"You think so?"
"I know so." I wondered if we were done now.
"Well . . ." She paused. "Can I say one more thing?"
I gestured for her to continue.
"I gain weight in my ass, and I want bigger tits."
I fell forward, banging my head against the steering wheel.
"That's all . . . If I didn't get the rest out, it would haunt me forever. You can go now . . . I won't say anything more."
I just stayed there, waiting, because there's always more.
"What's the point of us having money if we never spend it? We never even go on vacation. Give it to me . . . Mom with her crap." She grumbled.
I smiled at her. "I'm wealthy…and you don't wanna know the things I've done…to get the houses, the cars, the ability to cater to some of your whims . . . Maybe you're like this—this outspoken because you like to get a rise out of me. But trust me when I say, I've seen it all, I've done it all, and I've got that fucking t-shirt. You don't surprise me—you annoy the fuck out of me. There's a difference. I also tend to sugarcoat for you . . . so know that I love you. But lastly, I want you to know that I'd sooner put a hole in your fucking head before I got you a pair of tits. Capisce?!"
Like I said, Kylie doesn't fear me. She blinked, wearing a hint of a smile. "What if I was really, really flat-chested? That's just cruel—"
"You are my child, which also means I can cut you off whenever I goddamn please. One fifty, and I'll buy you a new purse."
"But—"
I shook my head rapidly.
"Fine." She finally gave up.
/=/=/=/=/=/
Bella and I haven't been to the Waldorf in years, and I didn't know any of the workers. When I approached the desk, I was told that Mr. Cullen didn't want to be disturbed—he wasn't taking any calls, and the douche at the desk wouldn't give me a room number.
It's not like I could pistol whip him, making him tell me, or try to finagle the upper-hand.
Kylie was with me, all a bright-eyed wonder, staring around—staring at all the different people, really. I don't know what's all that fascinating about other people—strangers.
But I know, despite my daughter's big mouth, she truly is sheltered.
"Look, this is cheap!" She held up something for me to see from the gift shop.
"Get over here now." I pointed to the ground.
She frowned, putting the bag down before skipping over.
"Send Maggie a text message," I said.
Kylie dug her phone out of her coat pocket. When the cell came out, I saw that the pocket was ripped something awful, and I wasn't sure if it was supposed to look this weathered—old. She's had this coat for years, but if she needed a new one, she'd buy one, right? I worry about stupid shit. But it wouldn't surprise me if Kylie saved her money for pocketbooks or shoes, forgoing a winter jacket. I want my baby to be warm.
"This warm enough?"
She actually sniffled, her nose still pink from being outside. "Yeah," she sighed. "It's my favorite coat—had it for five years. It's tight now," she frowned, pulling on it, "but I won't let Mom throw it out . . ."
"Okay."
"What do you want me to ask Maggie?"
"Tell her that you're here—you ran away from home, and you need Sonny. Make sure you say you've run away—Dad's a prick. You're here in the lobby…alone." Even if he'll only worry for five minutes, I was glad. He'd get a little bit of his own medicine. A large part of me just sympathized with Mr. Sullivan. If Sonny finds out his baby sister is here in Manhattan alone . . . He'll give up his room number quickly. I just hope he doesn't run down here like an ass. Then it'll definitely be an argument.
"Oh…that's good." Her thumbs moved rapidly. "But what if they're having sex again? We might be waiting down here for a while. Who checks their phone when they're—"
I covered her mouth with my hand.
She licked my palm, but it made me smile. "We'll just have to wait and see," I said.
"You can…buy me something while we wait?"
I raised a brow, gesturing to the gift shop.
If it'll keep her quiet . . .
"It'll be like a souvenir of our trip together," she giggled. "We can pretend to be spies, or ohhh!" She jumped. "We can be ninjas and we need to get into the hotel room without being seen," she whispered, taking slow big steps.
Each of my kids do this . . . I can be pissed, very fucking angry, or aggravated at them, and then two minutes later? I'm reminded of how blessed I am—how much I fucking love them, how much I wished I could take away any ounce of sadness or pain . . . give them the world on a string if I could.
"Come here," I said.
She grimaced, walking back over to me.
I hugged her tightly. "I love you."
That changed her face. She smiled brightly up at me. "I love you, too, Daddy." She sighed and sniffed me, which is something Kylie just does. She stores scents away for memory, like Bella. "You always smell the same. You and Mommy smell like home." And I wished she was always like this. She's not fucking around either. I know when my Kylie Cat is being sincere, or when she's sucking-up, or when she's trying to push my buttons—which is always—or when she's trying to be funny.
All of our kids—they have this dry, perverse humor, but they're OUR kids. I didn't expect any less.
But back to Kylie . . . Maybe I do baby her, and maybe her behavior, her manner of acting is a reflection of that...my fault. I'm not sure, but she is immature for her age. Then sometimes, she can be logical and profound. Mostly, she's silly and random JUST like Bella.
"I know." I rubbed her back. "So do you…Did you know, despite being a pain in my ass, you're my favorite?"
"You say that to all your kids . . ." And she was 100% correct.
And I still feel like shit for lying to Dame about that—telling him that Kylie was my favorite. It's impossible for me to pick one, even if I don't like some of the things they do.
I haven't told Dame he was my favorite in years.
"Oh, look. Mom likes stuff like this." She left the embrace, going over to these shiny little knickknacks.
A purple crystal turtle, a Hershey Bar, and a hair clip for Bella—that Kylie picked out—later, we got a response from Maggie.
And fucking Kylie wanted to buy them champagne to celebrate their love . . .
And what the fuck was the point of the purple crystal turtle? Why do they even sell shit like that?
Nevertheless, they were in a suite on the thirtieth floor, and Kylie was instructed by me to start crying.
"You did it in the car."
"I know but you made me happy…you know I like shiny things, like diamonds. Hint, hint, wink, wink." She nudged me.
"What'd you do with Julie's engagement ring?"
"Mom took it." She frowned. "Said a perfectly good diamond—especially one that big—shouldn't go to waste. But Dame didn't want it . . . She intended on changing the setting, so that when Dame pops the question to Amelia . . ." She rambled, speaking rapidly, and I tried to keep up. "But Dame has some class. He refuses to give Amelia something that used to be Julie's—says it's tainted by her bad juju. And Damion's not the type to believe in juju or God, I don't think." Her gaze met mine. "He might be a Satan worshipper."
I laughed. "You're still angry with him? He's mad at me, you know. Not you or Mom…" The elevator came and we walked on, Kylie quickly pressing the button.
She shrugged. "Mom said she was going to try and get his money back—he bought it off that guy on 86th Street. And I'm not mad at Dame-y Bear no more." She pouted. "I got my revenge and it's up in that hotel room. I can't believe it worked, but now my meddling screwed with Damion and Sonny." She blew out a breath, getting misty-eyed. "I feel bad. But if Dame loves Amelia, why does he care about Maggie and Sonny?"
"Your brother likes to keep his options open . . . And Damion doesn't—he doesn't connect with people that often or easily, and regardless of being drunk, he connected with Maggie. I'm sure he liked Maggie, but…he knew he was too old—he tried to stay away and he did. From the looks of it, Damion was actually looking out for Maggie's best interest—not so he could actually be with her."
"You buy that crap?"
I nodded, although I wasn't really sure. "Dame's not the type to care easily either. He was trying to protect Maggie from Sonny, knowing how your brother is with women. And men…we like to covet. Do you know what that means?"
She nodded, a smirk appearing on her lips. "Of course."
"And if Sonny was interested in Maggie, he would have gone for her anyway—whether you and your mother put him up to it or not."
"I'm just—I'm small, so I gotta be creative when getting them back. They can't get away with anything."
I smiled and pinched her chubby cheek. "Get to crying."
"Okay." She wiggled her hands. "Tell me something sad, messed-up." We stared at the numbers rising on the elevator.
"Um…" I racked my brain. "Your mother and I are murdered, but we leave you nothing—"
Her lip quivered.
"All of which places you in . . . jacked-up clothes that aren't trendy, and you were just robbed, but all they stole were your shoes. Gio dumps you because you're broke, but you get the last laugh . . . he's hit by a bus on his way back to his crib." I snorted a laugh, trying to compose myself. "And you're on the bus that hits him, because without us there are no drivers. Oh, we left some money to Damion, but he's a stingy fucker—"
"Stop." Kylie was in tears.
"Decapitated puppies, sliced up kittens—no wifi, um—"
"I said stop!" She was blubbering.
"You go into a severe depression and gain fifty pounds . . . all in your ass."
She hit me, and I laughed, but by then the bell had dinged. We were on their floor.
"You go to the door. I bet he's watching the hall, but you stall him—give me enough time to burst in like a motherfucker."
She nodded, wiping her eyes.
"You know we'd leave you something—"
"I know."
"—to bury us with."
She cried, leaving the elevator.
Kylie never looked back to me, and I took my nine out—knowing I'd blitz Sonny with it if he tried to lock me out.
"Get in here." Sonny was only wearing boxers, had a nine in his hand, too, and I straightened out in a doorway. "Tell me what happened."
"I just—I just—" Kylie sobbed, while Sonny tried to push her into the room, but she resisted.
"Just come in," he said, still shoving her inside.
Then Kylie held onto the doorway. "Now, Daddy, now!"
That wasn't stealthy at all, but I ran in. No one stopped me, and I was fast to close the door behind myself.
"What the fuck is this...Kylie and Skip Comedy Hour?" Sonny chuckled. "You could have called—"
"I did!" I exclaimed. "I called you eight fucking times!"
He scratched his head with his gun, grabbing for his phone. "Oh...but you didn't leave messages."
While I gritted my teeth, I took a look around. It was a lover's paradise—Jacuzzi, large flat screen, a sitting room, a small kitchen, but I didn't see Maggie anywhere. "Where is she?" I asked.
"I'll find her—"
Sonny stopped his sister from going to the bedroom. "I'll get her."
Kylie gave her brother the finger while he had his back to her.
"Stop," I told her.
"Strawberries and champagne?" She grimaced and studied their room service cart. "Dark chocolate truffles…"
"Awww, come on. I'm sure Peto hooks you up with warm soda and some watermelon."
She was crying again. "I want romance, dammit!"
And I was laughing, trying to channel all that fucking anger I had.
Where'd it go?
But then this was Bella's plan from the start—why she sent Kylie along.
"Screw them. I'm having some." She poured herself some Cristal. "You want?" She plopped a strawberry into the glass.
"Fuck it." I took it from her, and then sat on the couch. When I adjusted myself, my foot slipped. Looking down, it was a used condom.
I thought about picking it up and flinging it at my daughter, just to watch her scream and run around the room.
Yeah, I was in playful mood, too.
"Check them out. Furry cuffs?" She made them dance, sounding like some wise guy. "Jesus…she'd never seen a penis before nine days ago . . . look at her, a pro." She turned back to me. "Maggie never saw a penis before Halloween. They did it on the roof of Midnight Sun. Can you believe it?"
"Sonny...? Yeah, I can believe it." I sipped the champagne.
"Sonny must be packin'..." She giggle snorted. "As soon as she told me, I noticed her walking funny. That's so gross." She tossed the cuffs down. "To me, Sonny doesn't have a peen."
I didn't comment.
She gasped. "I bet Sonny bought her a bunch of clothes, too." Kylie's eyes darted around the room. "He's not cheap, either. Where would they be?"
"The bedroom?" I asked.
"But Sonny's clothes are all over...Oh, maybe . . ." she tapped her chin, "they're sex fiends. She was probably naked the whole time, Daddy, and she stripped him down when he came in." She nodded and looked like she'd solved a mystery. "And—"
"Stop," I said.
Kylie shook her head. "Maggie's gotta make that dolla, dolla bill, y'all."
I chuckled, wanting to hug her again.
"Cash rules everything around me," she rapped. "I still remember that song from when I was little," she giggled.
I nodded. "I remember . . . C.R.E.A.M: get the money—dolla, dolla bill, y'all," I sang.
She pointed at me, rocking back and bopping. "Catchin' keys from across seas. Rollin' in MPV's, every week we made forty G's—"
"Respect mine, or anger the TEC-9 . . . Ch-pow! WU from the gates now." I was laughing my ass off.
She danced into the kitchen. "There's no food—Maggie must be starving." She raided their fridge. "Imagine if he cuffed her to the bed as like—his sex slave?" Her eyes widened. "I doubt her poon was THAT good." Maybe if that came from someone else's mouth, I'd raise a brow or chuckle.
I didn't comment about that. "Room service—they've likely been ordering room service." I stood up. "Go see what's going on. If I do—"
"Oh, yeah!" Our pervert-baby-mush ran back into the bedroom.
I sat there, sipping my champagne—thinking my son had class. All his designer suits were lying haphazardly around, his shoes, too…but it looked like there had been no maid service in a week. How long had Maggie really been staying here? I wouldn't put it past Sonny to make sure she got to and from school. But they knew they'd be discovered soon, so she skipped these past two days?
"Whoa…that's like the biggest bed I've ever seen. You could have an orgy on it."
"What are they doing?" I asked.
"Oh, Maggie's crying. Now she knows we're here to get her, and she doesn't wanna leave. I wouldn't wanna leave either…just saying. Look at this place." She twirled around. "You wanna order food?"
I shook my head.
"Sonny would pay—"
"No."
"Please?" She put her hands together like in prayer. "I've never had room service before, and I don't wanna go home yet. It'll give Mom a break from seeing my stupid face—"
"Stop saying that." It pissed me off.
"I'm always up her butt. I'm lonely...and right now I'm hungry." She rubbed her belly.
"We'll hit up a drive-thru, get you and Maggie a couple Happy Meals, get Mom some nuggets and shit," I sighed. "The three of youse can chill if her pop's doesn't freak—"
"Mommy doesn't even eat chicken nuggets. Shows how much you know." She scoffed.
"Excuse me? Fucking chicken wraps then."
Kylie wore a frown, hugging herself. Her demeanor had completely changed. "We should have a late dinner. You can take Mom and me out. I don't want McDonald's . . . We never do stuff like Uncle Carlisle and Alex—"
"What?" I asked.
She shrugged, looking down. "They eat together...Mom and I eat, and then you eat when you come home. They're like a real family? No one's ever fighting. They laugh and talk, and they're just together. Not divided by petty bullshit or whatever." She waved a hand, sort of sounding like my wife. "I just...I liked it there. Uncle Carlisle is always—"
"We're a real family, too. I just tend to be busier than your uncle." I scratched my eyebrow. "We'll do some shit this week."
"Promise? 'Cause today was really fun—"
I nodded, pointing my finger. "Go get your friend…If I have to leave this couch—if I see that little girl naked, someone's getting hurt. Help your pops out, Ky," I pleaded.
"Touch-y, touch-y." She ran off again. Then she came back really fast, walking backward. "They're coming out now."
By the time she said that, they were already in my line of sight. Maggie was a teary-eyed mess, tucked into Sonny's side, and my son looked sad too.
"Explain," I said. "Both of you—have a seat."
Sonny kissed her hair, bringing her over to the other sofa. Maggie was fully clothed—if wearing one of my son's button-down shirts is considered clothed. "To what do we owe the pleasure?" he sighed.
"Mr. Sullivan came knocking on my door, wondering where his daughter was. Apparently, she'd been staying at my house for over a week." I was calm, and I didn't raise my voice.
"I was taking her back and forth, but…" Sonny shook his head. "Can we talk in the other room?" He pointed.
I nodded. "Sure." Playing the part of Mr. Nice Guy was going to pay off. When, or if, I punch Sonny in the face—because I know it might happen—he'll be taken aback.
Bella and I have the same California King that was in the bedroom. I don't know why Kylie was so fascinated. Especially since, these days, she spends more time with Bella in our bed than I do. And this room was gross, worse, than the sitting room.
"Homegirl can't clean?" I looked around.
"For what? It's a hotel." He plopped onto the bed. "And I don't want her doing anything…being here was for us, like a retreat. I don't know. If I wanted it clean, I'd clean. The bed's pretty clean—"
"You've been fucking on every other surface in the suite?"
He raised a brow, not saying a word.
"What the fuck is going on here? Level with me. Be nice to me. Please." I pleaded. "I asked you to bring her by the house that next morning. You never showed up—Kylie said Maggie had been home for hours when I'd asked her. Now I know your sister was covering . . . And here we are nine days later." I widened my arms. "And you're on vacation? I'm guessing you don't leave your precious Maggie to go to Eclipse."
He shrugged. "I haven't really been doing anything—"
"But that little girl."
"She's not a little girl. Stop with that." He sat up. "Layla's got everything under control. I was there yesterday—"
"And Katie? Does she have everything under control?"
"I—I really—I don't know." He cradled his head.
"You have no idea what you're doing—thinking with your cock." I spat.
"Are you kidding?" He smirked. "It's nine days later—nine days—and the thought of Maggie leaving . . . I'm not only thinking with my cock. I don't know what it is just yet, but I'm crazy about her."
I nodded, trying to absorb his words. "You're going to take this relationship out into the open?" I asked. "Openly date a high school student at your old-ass age and status?"
"Uncle Carlisle is like thirteen years older than Alex—"
"High school," I repeated.
He shrugged. "It's only for seven more months, and then she graduates—"
"Fuck." I groaned. He spoke about the future, which means he is serious—to a degree. "You should end this now. A clean break. Youse had your fun, and now it's time to say goodbye—"
"Fuck that."
"You don't know what's going to happen when the baby comes. New parents—there are feelings involved—you guys might be able to patch things up."
"I don't want to. We'll have joint custody. I'll have my child a certain amount of time, and Katie will have her the rest of the week. People do it all the time."
"Why haven't you gone home? Aro asked you to go home on Halloween—to take care of Katie. Something was wrong, and…it's not like you not to give a fuck. You always take care of business, and…it's nine days later. Regardless of your problems, Katie's pregnant." How he could be so neglectful, while she was carrying his child, was beyond me. During each of Bella's pregnancies, I was like her slave and I enjoyed it. I doted, took care of me and mine. "No one can find you—you're not answering her calls, anyone's calls. What if something happened?"
"I check my messages—"
"Talk to me—be straight," I said. "You're being irresponsible...You're not a kid anymore, Sonny. Fuck. You didn't even act like a child when you were one." He was always eight going on thirty.
"Katie's an adult, too. And she never wants my help anyway—never cares if I'm around."
"But something was up with her."
"Nothing was wrong with Katie. AJ told her I was chillin' with some—I think they called Maggie a little whore—and Katie felt a certain way about it. She can't have it both ways . . . And I asked her. She said she didn't give a fuck about what I did. We're not together, and now we're not technically living together. I'm doing nothing wrong."
"To just bounce without telling her? Aro's after your ass, which places me in a spot."
"Fuck him." He snorted. "Aro—hell, you too. You guys have connections. Like you keep saying, it has been nine days. I'm in Manhattan, flying under the radar for nine days? Aro hasn't been looking, or trying very hard to find me. He would have done so—same with you. No one noticed I was gone until Mr. Sullivan showed up, right?"
"Katie was crying her eyes out when I went to your crib. You forgot about a doctor's appointment?" I asked.
"Shit." He puffed his cheeks. "I did forget. I still took care of her—left her money and food, although I'm sure she can feed herself. I'm being a nice guy. Why can't I be happy? This is the happiest I've been in…I don't even know."
"Maggie's leaving with me, and you're going home tonight. You want Katie out? Tell her to pack a bag and hit the bricks—man up. She's not destitute—she's gotta job, various family members she could stay with."
He groaned. "Tomorrow. I'll drop Maggie off at school tomorrow—"
"No. Mr. Sullivan expects her home by nine tonight. That's what I told him, and I'm keeping my word." I nodded. "This baby is going to be here before you know it, and you're too busy buying your girlfriend a cell phone and a new wardrobe. How is all—everything going to fit in?"
"I have no idea…but I'm not ready to say goodbye to Maggie," he whispered.
I shook my head. "What's so special about this broad?"
"It's a feeling—how I feel when we're together. I'm having the best sex ever—Christ. It's mind-blowing…and it's not kinky or dirty, it's just us…we—we make it special." He swallowed loudly, and I'd honestly never heard him speak with this much conviction. "We talk and talk, and I don't mind. She knows me. I'm able to talk to her. It's NOT just sex. It's not just anything—" He pulled on my sleeve. "She hasn't even pried—about what I do for a living. That's—"
I rolled my eyes. "What the fuck should she care? You have cash—What should she care where it comes from? She might be using you."
"No way."
I put my hands up.
"She didn't want the phone or anything. I wanted to get those things for her, especially the phone…so I could reach her when we're not together."
"Right," I said. "Have you spoken to Damion at all?"
"Nope…I don't even want to see him—all the head games and all the lies. I'm just so tired of everyone and their bullshit. Every day . . . I'm pleasing. I walk around trying to fix problems and make others happy. Maggie—why should I let her go because others are uncomfortable with us being together? My stomach does flips when I say her fucking name. I've never felt this way before, either."
"Not even with Katie?" I asked.
"Maybe when I was twelve . . . I don't know. I don't remember."
"She's eighteen, Sonny."
He didn't have a comment.
"You'll be twenty-eight next month."
"I don't care if she doesn't care . . ." he laughed. "Earlier, I was trying to teach her how to blow me—"
"I don't want to hear about it." I rushed out.
"But you always—"
"No." And I felt sad, that I denied him this. "I feel youse being together is wrong . . . To be honest, I never thought you guys would continue on past Halloween. Plus, I didn't want trouble or a bigger fucking scene, so I gave you my blessing to leave with her—thought it was all in good fun . . . But, son, what good can come out of this? You get her knocked up, too? She's not ready to settle down like you are."
"I didn't do that with Katie."
I shrugged, because it didn't make a difference, although I believed him.
"It was a lapse in judgment—we didn't use a rubber."
"Bottom line, you can't stay in hiding," I said. "That stops now."
"I'm not hiding or doing anything. I'm staying here—giving Katie her space."
"Or you're just scared to go home. You know she's going to get on your ass, or maybe when you face her you'll get the warm fuzzies."
"No . . . when I leave this hotel room? I'll be entering reality again, where everything fucking sucks," he spat.
"Well, you can't do this when you have a kid." I looked back to him. "Just pick up and leave."
"Then…it's a good thing I'm doing it now, and I wasn't leaving my child—who's not even born yet. I wasn't necessarily leaving Katie either. While Katie's there, I obviously can't have Maggie over. Now that's disrespectful…I know better, although Katie's made it clear—we're done. She put on some act for her father to start trouble."
"You really think so?" I asked.
"I do."
"And what if Katie were to want you back? Now or after the baby's born?" I raised a brow.
"I can't predict the future. But at the moment, I almost have hate in my heart for her. She fucked with my head for years…and when I finally thought I got her back…Fuck her. I just don't care anymore."
I sighed, leaving the bed. "Dress your doll, and then say goodbye to her."
He grinned. "That's cute—my doll." He looked like a little boy, something I'd never seen in him, even when he was one. "I call her Shaky."
"I don't want to know why."
"She shakes when she comes—gets excited." He shrugged. "Once she leaves she'll probably get grounded."
"You see?" I nearly shouted. "You're dating someone who can get punished. Sonny, please!" I held my head.
"She's eighteen—just doesn't have the balls to tell her parents. What can they do? Seriously? If they kicked her out, I'd get her an apartment, or—"
"She's not even your type. There, I said it." I faced him. "She's not even…incredibly built like a woman. You like blond amazons with huge racks and all the makeup."
He laughed. "I've fucked a variety—a variety—of women. I don't want to go back to that—"
"So, you're sticking with Maggie? Because you don't wanna sleep around anymore? It's not one or the other, and nothing is set in stone. I'm just saying…it'd be smart to wait until the baby is born—living arrangements are sorted—before you dive into a relationship with someone. And I mean anyone, not just Maggie."
"No!" he shouted. "I'm sticking with Maggie because I think I'm falling in lo—"
"Don't you dare!" I cut him off.
"It is what it is." He smiled widely.
"Have you told Maggie about…these feelings?" I whispered.
"No…I don't want to scare her."
"And two weeks ago she was hung up on Dame. Don't do this to yourself." I pulled on my hair again, wondering if they'd—my children—make me go bald. "You think you're falling for her already...She's going to break your heart. She's eighteen, and you need someone who's ready to settle down. You talk all this shit about Katie…about what she'd make you do, are you ready to saddle Maggie—at eighteen—with a husband and a stepchild? 'Cause if she's as far gone as you are, she'll ditch college, get knocked up, and then resent you by the time she's twenty-one."
"I haven't thought that far ahead—"
"You're having a child—you have to!" I punched my palm.
"So…when I was born you had all the answers?" He raised his voice again, and that was grating on my nerves.
"I was married. I was settled down. But fuck that. With all these maybes flying around...you're not in the position to add to it. You need to chill the fuck out. Call a spade a spade, and say goodbye."
"No."
"How long are you going to ignore your brother? Act like he doesn't exist?" I asked.
He didn't answer me.
"She went from Dame to you in a fucking day—"
"It was a crush…one that was never explored, and when they did chill…they hung out for like two hours. What we have is real…it's not a fling thing." He sipped from a can of Pepsi. "I haven't even been drinking—doing anything. I ordered champagne because it's classy . . . I don't even feel the need. I am so happy, and all I want is for you to be happy for me."
"I wanna be outta here in ten minutes . . . And you know you can always talk to me about anything, Maggie included." I kept my back to him, waiting for a reply.
"Can you just be happy for me?" He sounded exasperated. "I want to pursue this—with my whole heart—and a lot of people are going to be against us. I need to know that you won't be."
I turned to face him. "You know I'm always in your corner. I'm just asking you to think this through. Please. And if you don't want any more trouble . . . you both need to get your asses home. You to settle shit with Katie, and she . . . You didn't see her pops, man. He was scared to death."
"They're not terribly nice to her—"
"Being strict—making sure your child is raised by certain rules has nothing to do with being nice. I'm your friend now, but growing up I was always a father, and you always thought I was an asshole . . . She may be eighteen, but she still resides in their house. As a father of an eighteen-year-old girl—excuse me, young lady—and even you, as Kylie's brother, if Peto took off with her for nine days…? Come on, Sonny."
"You're right." He rasped, clearing his throat. "We weren't thinking, but she wasn't with me the whole nine days. I'd pick her up from school, and then bring her to school . . . She even worked one or two days at the salon, and then she'd see her pops in passing, whatever. The past few days, though—" A smile crept up to his lips. "I couldn't let her go, and yes. I knew our alone time was coming to an end—that someone would burst our bubble sooner or later."
"Just…try to think from now on."
He nodded.
"Ten minutes…" I left the bedroom.
/=/=/=/=/
SONNY
/=/=/=/=/
Since I'd left my car by Eclipse the other day, getting a ride to the hotel from Momo, I bummed a ride from Dad. Forgetting my car was a nasty trick, but it worked. Without a ride, Maggie didn't go to school or back to Bay Ridge. I knew some shit was going to happen . . .
But it was cool. Dad didn't bitch when I hopped into the backseat with Maggie, or when I insisted I walked her to her door. It was a risk, but one I had to take.
"I'll call you later." I kissed her palm, and I really didn't want to say goodbye.
She stared at her house. "It was worth it—getting to spend time with you. I'm just so scared to go in. I don't even know what to say."
I pursed my lips, staring at her house, too, and noticing my father and Kylie enter our garage in my periphery. "Tell him the truth—"
"I don't know." She held her stomach.
"Are you ashamed of me?"
"You know I'm not," she whispered.
"Just tell him you have a boyfriend—"
"Is that really what you are?" She grinned.
I bit my lip, smiling and staring down at her. "Yeah…just you and me?"
She nodded, tears welling up in her eyes. "I want that." Her lip quivered. "I—I care about you a lot, and—"
"Oh, me too, baby…" Little did she know…fuck, I felt the same way, and I keep waiting—wondering when I'm going to wake up and find all this a dream. "Don't cry . . . If you want—if your father wants—we can go to dinner this week, all three of us. He can meet me and see that I'm not some douchebag." My stomach continued to roll with butterflies—just standing here. And I am a grown-ass man.
"I mean, I'm worried about both my parents, but I don't know when my mom will be back. If my Grandma LuLu dies…I'll probably have to go out to Pittsburgh."
"For how long?" I asked.
"I don't know—a few days?"
I nodded, wanting to say I'd come with her, but . . . I have too many things pulling me in each different direction, and all I want to do is lean toward Maggie. She's my light amongst the darkness, and I loathed the thought of being away from her. Despite her going to school or the salon, or me going to Eclipse, we've spent most of the past nine days together. We had every single afternoon and night together, where we had dinner, snuggled, and made love. We shared so many laughs. We talked each other's ears off . . . and I loved everything I heard.
"We'll meet for dinner tomorrow?"
"I'd love that."
I ducked to steal one last kiss.
"Margaret!" Her father shouted, whipping the door open.
I couldn't help it. I'd instinctively jumped in front of her.
"Dad…" She stared up at him.
"Mr. Sullivan." I put my hand out.
He stared at my hand. "You're one of the Cullen boys…"
I nodded. "Santino. It's a pleasure to meet you—"
"May I ask why you're—I don't even know what to say." He looked from Maggie and back to me. He knew something was up.
"I'm sorry I'm late," Maggie said. "I, uh—"
"Since it's getting dark earlier now . . . my mother had me walk Maggie home." I cleared my throat, wanting this guy to like me. Maybe over time he would, and then he'd learn of our relationship.
"Well, she's home now." He opened the door wider. "What is all that?" He stared down at her bags, and I massaged my forehead.
"Kylie cleaned out her closet," she lied.
"You don't need anything. You have plenty of clothes. Tomorrow morning you can drop them off at Saint Anselm. I'm sure Kylie won't mind. It's the right thing to do." He looked at us—the bags—with disgust, and it was pissing me off. Especially since he was going on about clothes in his doorway, giving away all the shit I'd got just for Maggie. She had nothing—not even a fucking cell phone, and that shit isn't even considered a luxury these days. She doesn't have anything, yet her father has a decent job. They drive a fucking BMW. It bothered me—that Maggie didn't have certain things. I got them for her.
"Yes, sir," Maggie whispered, like she was curling in on herself, not being herself at all, and that killed me—my ray of sunshine turning into a mucky cloud.
"Get in the house. We need to have a talk."
Maggie looked back to me, slowly laying the large Louis Vuitton suitcase flat—an indication I take it—and then she was gone.
"Sir—"
"Did you call the school, pretending to be me?" he asked.
I blew out a breath, and I had no idea how to answer that. "I'm sorry. I don't know what you're talking about."
He folded his arms across his chest, leaning in the doorway. "The jig is up." He must be pissed since his accent got thicker. "I was standing right here, Bucko. I heard everything, only coming out because, if you'd kissed her, if you'd touched my daughter—"
"Mr. Sullivan—"
"We thought it was wonderful when Maggie and Kylie started spending time together. I respect your father as a family man, as a man, but I know…I see, and I actually enjoy the fact that this is likely the safest block in Brooklyn, if not the safest neighborhood. Maggie has no idea because—well, for her to be a friend to Kylie, what you and your father do for a living isn't relevant. We're not in the habit of speaking ill either."
This wasn't like speaking to Aro or mouthing off to him. I was literally about to vomit, and I had no idea what to say. Mr. Sullivan held all the cards. He had all the power—the power and ability to keep my girl away from me.
"We even let her go to that extravagant party on Halloween. We've been bending rules, but…" He just stared at me. "I know who you are and what you're capable of. But please respect my decision and my word. Do not come around here looking for me daughter!"
"But sir, she's an adult—"
"Dad, I am eighteen now," Maggie whispered from behind him.
"You'll get up to your room, or you'll find yourself finishing school at Trinity Teen Solution—"
"I'm not a bad kid. You can't just send me away!" Maggie was in tears.
"Then you tell him never to contact you again." His hand was shaking, and I didn't know if it was in anger or fear. I hoped it was fear. But then he turned back to me while Maggie cried and shouted at him. I wanted to comfort her, say something, but her father was the threat. "Have a good night, Mr. Cullen, and might I suggest dating women your own age—not preying on young girls." He slammed the door in my face.
I nodded, accepting that, but I didn't move—ever so curious as to what he might say.
"You can't do this!" Maggie shouted. "I've followed all your rules—every one of them. I get straight A's, perfect attendance until this week—perfect!"
"This is not open for discussion." They were very loud, and I had no shame in having a seat on their stoop. I just—I needed to make sure Maggie was okay—that things would quiet down. "I don't know who you are anymore!" He spat. "My little girl—you were to be a fine nun, and now what have ya done?"
"Nothing! He's my boyfriend. Lots of girls my age, even younger, have boyfriends. We've done nothing wrong—"
"Boyfriend?" The way he laughed when he said that . . . it hurt, churned my stomach. "You think that hoodlum was your boyfriend? I'm sorry, sweetheart, but you were nothing more than a whore to a gangster! They're criminals. Those Italian pieces of shit…"
"Oh, fuck." I covered my face with my hands—not even angry, just wounded.
The jig was up, only he couldn't be more wrong.
"Margaret, what have you done—you've ruined yourself!" he hollered.
"I didn't do anything! You don't know him. He's studying for the bar—he's going to be a brilliant lawyer. You'll see! And he cares about me. Someone cares about me! What I have to say is interesting. He never tells me to shut up, never—you don't know what you're talking about! At least he treats me like an actual person. He sees me—doesn't ignore me like everyone else on the darn planet!" she screeched, and then I heard her marching up the stairs.
"Let's see how much he cares—he already got what he wanted, I bet! You're never seeing him again!" he hollered back to her, and I waited for her reply.
Then I waited a few more moments . . . making sure I didn't hear his footfalls following her.
Then I took the suitcase—not wanting to see any members of my family—and just placed it in the garage, exchanging it for my bag before I closed it up.
The walk up to Fourth Avenue was dreadful, knowing I was going to have a fight with Katie. I'll try to actually talk, not raise my voice, but an argument was inevitable. I knew that.
She even had the deadbolt on the door, possibly so—in case she was sleeping—she'd hear me jiggle it open.
Katie was here, drinking tea in the dining room with AJ—that troublemaker. Was it possible for someone to haunt another their whole life? Every problem Katie and I ever had was because of him.
"Get out of my house—" I pointed.
"Don't you dare!" Katie shouted at her brother.
"If you don't want me to break your fucking jaw, you'll go." I jerked my head to the door.
Since AJ has always been a great big pussy, along with being a douche, he kissed Katie's hair and was quick to leave.
I slammed the door closed after him.
"You have some nerve—"
"So do you." My words to her were calm. "Getting them involved with our problems."
She looked away from me.
"Katie—"
Her cold gaze came back to me. "I don't see you for more than a week . . ." She shrugged. "What the fuck is that about?"
I nodded, hoping we'd stay chill—not raise our voices. "I needed a break." I even whispered it. "I was going out of my mind—between the shit with you, trying to make everyone happy—I needed time to gather my thoughts, and—"
"And that includes your little girlfriend?"
"I did meet someone…" I nodded. "Halloween—"
"I know all about it." She snorted. "You're just unbelievable. After promising me, swearing to God and on our child that you'd never do me dirty—" She was in tears.
"Whoa…We're not together. You made that abundantly clear—made that decision over three weeks ago."
"And you couldn't even last a month without finding a replacement?!" she shouted, and even with the bump—she's fast, as much as she denies it. She shot up out of the chair. "Did you ever think that maybe I didn't want to be hurt? That maybe I wanted us to chill out for a bit? Test the waters? And the first chance you get . . ."
"Don't do this." I actually cradled my stomach. "I can't keep having this same argument with you. You're not happy when we're together. You're not happy when we're apart. You say I'm different, but it's you, Katie. I don't know you. I don't like this version of you." I threw her words back at her, and I reached for her hand. "You're scaring me with this back and forth shit—like you might need help, or counseling."
"Again with the counseling? Me?" She pointed to herself. "You have all the rage issues—"
"Katie," I whispered, bringing my hands up to my mouth like I was about to pray. "At this point, I'm being totally honest with you, I'm only trying my best to get along with you for our daughter. Maybe what my brother says is true . . . we loved the idea of us as a couple, but we grew apart."
She sat back down, crying. "Everything happened so fast, and I did love Raul."
"I'm sure you did." I was sure it was bullshit. "We made mistakes—hooking up all those times, but we always stayed friends . . . Why can't we be friends now?"
"Forget about us as a couple . . . You said we'd do this together, and…you disappear?"
"I told you why I needed time away," I said. "I needed to clear my head—the one you've been fucking with for years."
"Your being away is my fault? It's all my fault." She threw her hands up.
"The way I felt . . . flying off the handle all the time, miserable, snapping at you, not being patient with you in your condition . . . We rushed into things, and then it was a nightmare. You can't lie and say that isn't true, and then . . . I wanted to give us more time. I wanted to, to keep loving you. You have to believe me. I tried, tried talking to you, coming up with solutions, and you shot them all down."
"We're different people now. I just—I was so scared when I found out the baby was yours," she sobbed. "It would have been easier if she wasn't yours—I hoped and prayed she wasn't."
I rubbed my eyes, feeling the sting. "I can respect that."
"But for you to just take off . . . I deserve more than a note by the coffeepot."
"For my own peace of mind, I needed time away from you and everyone. I'm sorry if that was inconsiderate of me, but I stopped by quite a few times—making sure you had everything you needed."
"I don't want to live downstairs. It would never work," she whispered.
I nodded, agreeing with her. "I realize that now, too. But . . . I'd still like to be involved as much as I can, and then joint custody. We have her equal time—"
"You can't even show up for doctor's visits. You just—you disappoint me. The first chance you had…you thought about your dick, not what would be best for me or—"
I widened my arms in disbelief, refusing to scream. "It's not like I planned to meet Maggie, and being around you isn't a picnic lately . . . If you wanted me to stay home on Halloween and not go to the club, you should have said something. Instead, you ignored me for days before that! So, for you to give a fuck about me being away…"
"That's her name? Maggie?"
"Margaret Anne," I said.
"Awww, is she a little Irish girl?"
"Actually, yeah. She's Irish." I wanted to roll my eyes but didn't.
"Sadly, from what I heard, it was a setup. Now I know your mother hates me—to do that. And then you have your hands all over her, in front of my family?"
I didn't say anything. I didn't comment.
She stared at me for a few moments before continuing. "I know we weren't together, so don't spit that at me. It's the principle—it's embarrassing. I'm here carrying your child, and you say you want to be my friend, be here for me, do things together, but a Halloween party was more important."
"You don't want me," I said.
"Not anymore—not in the slightest bit."
"You didn't ask me to stay home. My whole family was going, and, lately, with trying to make you happy…I haven't seen them at all." I clawed at my face.
She scoffed. "You should just stay single. No chick can compare with Mamma Bella. Oh, unless she picks out a girl for you. She handpicked Maggie, didn't she?"
"What does any of it matter? My relationships, outside of our friendship, won't hinder my ability to be a good father." I shook my head. "Will it?"
"It's about responsibility. Whether we're together or not, you had a responsibility to me. With you, it's all of me or none of me. Because I chose not to be with you—because it was the right choice—you've been distant, inconsiderate, and like I said, very irresponsible. It's like I don't exist, but you say you want to be here, be involved."
"I'm sorry about that." I thought it best to just apologize, hurry it along. "Can we agree to be friends? You can stay here for as long as you like. I'll stay with my parents—"
"Closer to the girlfriend?" She smiled, but it wasn't a happy one.
"Actually..." I wanted to say, "I'd be farther away from you" but I didn't. "Do you want to talk about Maggie?" I asked. "We can . . . I'll answer anything you want to know."
"Is she even worth discussing?" She rolled her eyes. "There'll just be a new one next week, and the week after that."
"She knows about you," I said. "I told her everything—"
"Everything?" She raised a brow.
"Please don't be a bitch to me. It's not the right time, she's not the right age, but Katie . . . I think—I'm falling in love with her. And if I have it my way, she'll be around for a while, which means she'll be a part of—not just my life—but our lives . . . I hope she is." And now I really thought I was going to be sick, but I didn't regret laying it out for her. She needed to know.
"You're serious?" The tears were back. "And you know all this after—"
"Nine days," I whispered. Nine blissfully happy days, where I forgot who I was. "It's scaring the fuck out me, too." And now I was crying. "You're the only woman who—who I loved, but this is different, and I can't explain it—"
"Each love is different." She wiped her eyes. "Some are better, worse—no love is the same."
I nodded. "Thank you for saying that. More than likely, I'm going to get my heart broken, but . . . I'm hoping for the best."
"She's really seventeen?" Her tone was laced with disgust.
"Eighteen," I said.
"That's—that's better." She sounded better and had stopped crying.
"I don't want you to hate her. It'd kill me to be ripped apart, so please . . . I'm begging you from now. She knows you're pregnant with my daughter, but as far as roles go . . . I know you might feel a certain way with her being around the baby. I'm probably getting ahead of myself. I just—I don't know."
"I'm surprised. You usually have all the answers."
I shrugged, biting my bottom lip. "This time I don't . . . I haven't the faintest clue."
She stared at the table, just like in a daze. "My mother said I can stay with her . . . until I can find a place. I'll leave tomorrow—"
"Well, whatever you'd need—deposit, security, whatever you need, Katie. I know you hate where my money comes from, but it's green. We only have two months to get our shit together. I'm going to be busting my ass, too."
"I will need your help."
"Thank you." I felt relieved. "You let me know, and I'll make it happen."
She nodded, rubbing her stomach.
"She kicking?" I asked.
Katie's mouth pulled up into half a smile. "Gas."
"Oh." I smiled, too. "I just—" Someone rang the buzzer. "Did AJ forget something?"
"No. He wouldn't come back. Might be my dad. I—we've been talking a lot." She wouldn't look at me, which meant she was filling his head with shit—probably.
"Right," I sighed, leaving the chair and going to the kitchen. "Who is it?" I used the intercom.
"Um, uh, it's me—I know, um, you said, but—I—" It was Maggie and she was crying her eyes out. My heart leaped into my throat, and I ran out the door. Taking the stairs two and three at a time, I got down there fast—my face falling even more seeing her between the doors.
"What happened?" I asked.
She flew at me, hugging me and in tears, sobbing.
"Shhh." I rubbed her back. "Tell me what's wrong."
She shook her head, swallowing her cries.
"Look at me." I lifted her chin, and that was when I saw it—the reddening mark on her cheek. "He hit you?" I tried to wrap my head around it—hoping she ran here and fell in the street.
"He was really—really m-mad, and he said—he said—"
I hugged her to me tightly, rubbing her back to keep from punching the wall.
"Who is it?" Katie asked, sticking her head between the first and second landings.
"Oh, no—I, um—" Maggie backed away. "I'm sorry."
"What, no—" I pulled her back into my arms. "Don't run away—please don't."
Her body racked with sobs, nearly collapsing in my arms.
"What happened?" Katie asked.
I just looked up to her, shaking my head as I—in this moment—didn't know where to begin.
"He-he said I was just your w-whore, but, but—"
"Fuck no. You're—Christ, Maggie. You know how crazy I am about you." I planted my lips in her hair, smashing her to me and wiping my runny nose on my sleeve.
"I told him—he didn't believe me. And I said I needed you, and he said he'd send me away, and he can't—I don't think—because I'm eighteen. I didn't—I didn't know where else to go."
"Shhh. You're okay. You're safe."
"I didn't wanna bother Kylie or your dad . . . he hates us together, too."
"He doesn't," I whispered.
"He-he said you were in the mafia—a criminal."
"Shit," Katie commented, and I'd forgotten all about her eavesdropping. "Guess you didn't tell her everything."
I was glad this amused her, but I sadly didn't know how to respond to Maggie.
"Are—are you?" She was quieting down, her voice still shaky.
"Would it matter?" I whispered, wiping the tears away from my own eyes—glad Maggie couldn't see me, as her face was buried in my chest. It's ridiculous, but she thinks I'm so tough since she saw me put Dame down with one move, and I wanted her to see me that way. I wanted and needed her to need me, depend on me.
"I, um—No." She hugged me tighter.
And I let go of the gust of breath I'd been holding.
"Sonny?"
I looked up to Katie, nearly pleading, hoping and praying she wouldn't give me a hard time.
Time . . .
The timing fucking sucks, but Maggie . . . I couldn't let her go on Halloween, nor the day after, nor the day after that, and here we are. It's weird because I don't want to imagine my life without her—I can't now, and that scares the fuck out of me. I know how young she is. I know she has her own life to live. I know every shitty and complicated thing in my life might just fuck up hers . . . but the thought of letting her go?
"It's cold in this hallway." Katie's tone was hushed, but it wasn't bitchy. "Have her come up. I'll, um, I'll make more tea or something."
"Thank you," I mouthed, more tears spilling—this time it was relief. "Come on." I gathered Maggie into my arms and started up the stairs.
"No." She fisted my shirt. "She's gonna hate me—I don't want to cause you trouble, or you guys to fight." She was sobbing again. "Just, just—"
"Shhhh." I stopped at the landing to place a soft kiss on her lips. "It's okay. I wouldn't bring you up if it wasn't okay." And she'd never know how okay it was. Sure, what Maggie's father did and said were horrible things, but that selfish bastard—Santino—he felt whole having his girl in his arms, because she was safe with him. "I'd never let anything happen to you. You trust me?"
She nodded.
"You'll be fine."
". . .'K."
Once inside, I brought her straight into the kitchen and sat her on the counter, so I could see the shiner, although I didn't want to see it. But if we didn't ice it, it'd be much worse tomorrow. I've had my fair share of black eyes.
"What happened?" Katie came into the kitchen, too.
"It's my fault," I said, grabbing an ice pack from the freezer.
"No," Maggie said.
"Her father saw us together—we fucked up. I—" I didn't know how to explain to Katie.
"Oh . . . oh." It dawned on Katie. "Can I talk to you privately?"
I was torn between a rock and hard place, wondering if I spoke with Katie if Maggie would sneak out. My heart couldn't handle the emotional torture of looking for her, trying to find her, or worse, if she went back to her father.
"Hold this," I instructed Maggie. "Right to your cheek. We'll be right in the other room."
She kept her head down.
"Hey." I touched her chin. "I'll be right back."
She gulped, refusing to meet my gaze—she probably feels really uncomfortable or shitty. I had no idea.
Katie pulled on my sleeve, and I wanted to snap at her but I didn't. I followed, stopping in the hall—so I could see the front door, be able to stop Maggie from leaving.
"Don't do anything stupid," Katie whispered. "Don't go over there and hurt that girl's father."
"I'm not—"
"You want to," she said.
I shrugged. "I've done worse to people for doing less to you. You just didn't know about it."
Katie shook her head. "Just—I hate to bring it up, but this is what's also heartbreaking about—about you. I hate the possibility of our child's father going to prison, or worse—the morgue. I can't live like that . . . and she doesn't know. Maggie doesn't know anything." She pointed to the kitchen. "Sonny, she's a kid. I believe your feelings…I've seen you in love before, but…don't do this to her."
I had nothing to say to her—I didn't know what to say, knowing she was correct but not wanting to accept it.
"I just—you're going to do what you want." She shrugged. "I'm going to bed…this is your place, so—" She wasn't just going to give an outright blessing that my girlfriend could sleep-over. "I'll take off the morning—call in a sub, and I'll go to my mom's."
"You don't have to—"
"The girlfriend and the pregnant ex all in the same apartment?" She raised a brow. "I'm sure she's a nice girl, but I'm too catty and territorial, and it'd just be weird."
I rolled my eyes. "No…I'd stay someplace else…I don't know what's up or down with her yet."
"She's going to move in, so you guys can play house, and you know it." It was fucked up that it sounded like a decent plan. "And your priorities better be straight before this kid is born. Fuck me. Fuck Maggie. She, our daughter, comes first." She rubbed her stomach.
"Of course. I know how that goes," I said.
"And if I get to know her and she's a fucking loon? She can't be around our child."
"You're getting way ahead of yourself. It's still only been…nine days, Katie." I didn't know anything about time or dating. But it made me understand Dame and Amelia a little more—knowing it was truly possible for people to fall all over themselves in a short period of time. "I have no idea . . . what I'm doing."
"When you love, Sonny—you shine, you come alive," she cried, her face crumbling. "This is the Sonny I remember." She gestured to me. "You just—you thought you loved me, and that's okay. I was holding on to you like a security blanket; remember I said that years ago?"
I nodded. "You have to know—" I held in a sob, nearly choking on it. "I wanted us to work—so fucking badly. I felt I needed us to work, to, to feel whole because—I've been miserable for years."
She shook her head. "It wasn't me you missed—you missed love—love in general." She pushed my chest. "Just…why do you have to be so fucking hot?" Then she smacked me on the back of the head, and that's when I knew—thought we'd be okay. "It wasn't love, per se . . . maybe you are just a good fuck." I don't know if she said it to hurt me, or if her tone was flirtatious—and I hoped it wasn't the latter. "And Raul had a tiny dick."
Now I really didn't know how to reply.
"I'm trying to be your friend…" She grumbled, and then continued waddling down the hall.
I smiled, taking three long strides and hugging her from behind. "Thank you."
"And when you're in love, you turn into a big fucking baby, too."
I laughed, letting her go. "Goodnight."
She waved, going into the guest room and closing the door.
The whole time, I kept my eyes on the front door and my ears open. Maggie didn't escape—run away. She was still sitting on the kitchen counter when I reentered.
"I'm really sorry for coming here."
I hated that she looked this sad. "My place—anywhere I am—it's your place, too, where you belong." I held her hand, entwining our fingers.
"Thank you."
I grabbed a napkin to wipe under her nose.
"Oh, I'm probably gross."
"You're gorgeous." I did my best to get those tears to go away, the boogers too.
"I should go—I panicked, and—I don't know. My dad—I came down to get a glass of water. He never followed me upstairs—I thought-I thought he'd leave me alone, but he taunted me, and what happened—he was drinking and stuff," she cried. "I wanna call my mom but my father is the lesser of the two evils—and they're church folk." She giggled through her tears. "Oh, things are so fudged up." And she was crying again.
"I'm not going to let you go home to him," I said. "Especially not tonight—not if he's been drinking. If you don't want to stay here, I'll take you to my parents' house."
She looked down to her phone. "I'll text Kylie."
I nodded, pulling her against my chest, and holding her tight. All of which made her cry more. "Katie's going to stay with her mom tomorrow—"
"Because of me?" she sobbed. "I'm sorry."
"No, no, no, no." I made her look up to me. "That was established before you even got here. Okay? It's not because of you. If she doesn't leave, we'll kill each other."
She nodded, solemnly.
"Are you thirsty?" I had no idea what was in the fridge, besides what I'd picked up a few days ago.
"No."
"Hungry?" I poked her belly.
"No, I'm okay." She sniffled. "Thank you."
"A kiss?" I leaned into her, stopping just before her lips.
She grinned. "Always."
After kissing her silly, we walked to my parents' house. My gaze lingered on her crib as we passed, and I still had no idea what to do to him. I'd think of something.
I stopped us before we were to go inside. "When things are settled with Katie—probably the day after tomorrow . . . you can come stay with me if you want—if you want. If you don't, I'm sure my parents will let you stay here for longer. I just—I can't—if your dad hits you, baby, I can't have that. That can't happen." I tried to keep my breathing even and under control.
She smiled sadly. "I never, um, had a boyfriend before, but it all feels very fast. I mean, we had fun at the hotel—a lot, oh my gosh, a lot—of fun."
I laughed, pulling her closer. "I can't get enough of you."
"But that wasn't reality . . . I went to school—well, when I did go."
"And you can still finish school. You can do whatever you want. You'd be living with me." I nipped her lips.
She giggled and then cried. "I know I'll forgive my dad. I hope he didn't mean it. But if I lived with you . . . they'd—they'd hate me. And if I stay with them, they won't let me see you."
"Shhh." I rubbed her back, comprehending everything she'd just said.
"And then the thought of not seeing you, not being able to kiss you, not having you hold me, or not rubbing your belly when you eat too much—I just—I don't know. It makes me feel the saddest that I've ever been in my whole life."
I gulped, looking up to the moon, and thinking it ironic that the sky was so overcast that there really wasn't one. And I wanted to shout at Maggie, "Pick me! Love me!" Because I'd always do whatever I could to make her happy and keep her safe.
"Hey, freaks!" Kylie waved, coming out from the backyard. "I didn't get the chance to apologize…for breaking up your taboo love nest . . ." She was finally able to really see us, getting close. "Christ. Who died?" All Maggie texted Kylie was that her parents kicked her out. She didn't get into specifics, and Mom wouldn't turn her away. "Dad, Sonny's crying—something's really wrong!"
"Shut up." Fuck. I felt like the biggest pussy. "Announce it to the whole 'hood."
"Sorry." She frowned, and then Dad came out.
"All of you get inside." He stared up and down the block.
"Look at this." I gently grasped Maggie's chin to show him her face. Dad's nostrils flared, but he wasn't going to say a word or react around Kylie or Maggie.
"I just—he—I'm sorry for disturbing your evening," Maggie cried.
"Please stop crying." I kissed her temple. "You're not putting anyone out."
She nodded, staring down.
"Christ." I pulled her in for a tight hug.
"Mr. Sullivan did that?" I heard Kylie whisper. "Tit for motherfucking tat. Let's go smack him in his grill." And she got in Maggie's face, singing "grillz, grillz", which finally made Maggie laugh. "I'm kidding . . . Come on. Let's go put PJs on and bug my mom." She grabbed Maggie, pulling her away from me. "Then you can tell me what you did with those fuzzy cuffs."
"Can I tell her?" Maggie asked me.
I grinned at her. "No shame in my game."
Kylie snorted, ushering Maggie inside.
"You're in love with her," Dad said once we were alone.
"I am…" My stomach rolled again.
"You're not going to touch Mr. Sullivan—"
"Excuse me?" I looked at him like he was insane. "He—"
"Maybe he lost his temper? Made a mistake? One that he's probably beating himself up over already? Regardless, until you know why, until you know if it's worth it—I bet Maggie loves her pops very much and he made a mistake. I don't want you to do anything. Trust me and respect what I'm asking. I'll talk to him," he whispered.
"This is so fucked up. He called me a gangster—called her my whore." I groaned, palming my face.
"So, she knows?"
"I didn't confirm or deny . . . I asked her if it would matter when she asked me if it was true." I shrugged.
"Well, what'd she say?" he asked.
"She said no . . . It wouldn't matter."
Thank you for reading.
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We're in the middle of a Sonny arc, so we'll be hearing more from him while others take a back seat. I apologize to those of you who do not like it . . . (shrug) It's all written, and I like it, so . . .
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Two weeks ago, a friend posted her story on her Facebook wall. Devastated by this news from a deeply-valued reader/supporter/friend, I asked the question so many others have asked: "What can we do for you, K?" Her answer: "I want for nothing for myself. Do you think we could raise money for Stand Up 2 Cancer?" Thus, Stand Up 4 Katalina (SU4K) was born. (Words via born on Halloween)
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