BABY FOR A PRICE: Marino Crime Family Page 19

  “Anthony,” I managed after a few moments of silence.

  “Yeah?” He glanced over at me, and I felt a swell of love in my heart. Here was this man, this wonderful, decent man, a man who had chosen me, and I got to break this news to him. I was blessed in ways I couldn’t even imagine, and he was about to join me in feeling that way. Or, you know, he might just freak out and crash the car in a panic. One or the other. That would probably be it. Either way, I knew he needed to know.

  “There’s something I need to tell you.” I sucked in a big breath, and then let it out again. He gave me a worried look.

  “What? What is it?”

  I guessed after everything we’d been through, the last thing he wanted right then was news. For us, news had been bad, destructive, and difficult. But this time, it was actually something good - or at least, I hoped he would think so too.

  “I’m pregnant,” I replied, my voice sounding odd even to my own ears. I suppose it felt weird saying those words out loud for the first time considering that I had often wondered if I would ever say them at all.

  “What?!” he exclaimed, not taking his eyes off the road. “When did you find out?”

  “At the restaurant,” I replied. “I was late for my period, so I picked up a pregnancy test on the way over.”

  “Do you know how far gone you are?” he asked. His tone was cool and unreadable, throwing me off a little.

  “No,” I admitted. “I’ll need to get to a doctors office for that.”

  There was a moment of silence between us before I got the nerve to speak again.

  “What do you… what do you think about it?”

  “I think it’s amazing,” he replied at once. “I’m just… surprised, that’s all.”

  “Good thing we got married in Italy,” I joked. “My mom would have killed me if I was a pregnant bride.”

  “Mine too.” Anthony flashed me a smile, and I could see him relaxing slightly.

  We sat in silence for a moment, letting what had just happened wash over us. After all, our entire lives had just changed completely. It was natural for us to want to take a few seconds to let it sink in. I snuck a look at him out of the corner of my eye - my husband, soon to be the father of my first child. How did we end up here? After everything that had happened, I still couldn’t quite believe it. But as I saw that smile playing at the corner of his mouth, I knew that he was as excited as I was, and just as taken aback too.

  We drove the rest of the way to the cemetery in silence, and I stared out of the car window as the city turned into the country outside. I felt a little guilty that it had been so long since I last visited, but then, if I told her everything that had happened, she would understand. Hell, she’d probably tell me to turn the whole thing into a novel so she could just read it and get caught up. I smiled at the thought. Most of the memories I had of my sister were so wrapped up in what had happened to her that they were tainted by my grief, but when I remembered the way she would jump in and excitedly try to guess the end of my stories, it filled my heart with joy. Well, there’s no way she’d guess how this one had ended - I certainly didn’t think I’d be sitting in a car a few months after a masked man had saved my life, married to him and carrying his child.

  We arrived at the cemetery after about half an hour, and Anthony helped me out of the car.

  “I’m not that pregnant yet, I can still walk, you know,” I grumbled playfully at him, and he held his hands up.

  “Hey, just trying to help,” he teased me. “You want me to stay here, or…?”

  “No, come in with me.” I took his hand, grasping it tight for comfort. He squeezed it back, and we headed down towards my sister’s grave.

  It was a clear day, but cold - the kind of afternoon that late spring offers, where the sun shines but it doesn’t burn away the chill that takes over the ground. I made my way down to Lia’s grave, a familiar path that I’d taken so many times before. It felt oddly peaceful, even though I wished I’d had the foresight to pick up some flowers on the way down.

  When I got to her grave, Anthony backed off and let me approach by himself. I was glad as I needed a little time with my sister, just the two of us. I knelt down at the edge of her grave, placing a hand on the slightly weathered stone, and smiled at the sight of her name. I felt a pinch in my throat where tears were threatening, but I ignored it and carried on.

  “Hey, Lia,” I began. “Sorry I haven’t been down in so long.”

  I could almost hear her side of the conversation, filling in where she couldn’t anymore. That’s okay, but you have to tell me what the hell’s been keeping you for so long!

  “I… fuck, I don’t know where to start.” I shook my head. “Well, okay, I’ll start at the beginning. I met this guy…”

  I trailed off, as I remembered all the times the women around me had been fucked over by the men in their lives. Me, with those men in the street; Lily, with the boyfriend who hurt her; and, of course, Lia, and everything that had happened to her. Part of me felt crass, bringing up Anthony around her, but I knew she would have loved him. I knew she would have known that he was different, as I did.

  “I know that we haven’t exactly always had the best luck with men.” I tightened my grip on the stone beneath my fingers, a sudden chill moving across my body. “But… this one’s different, Lia. He’s amazing.”

  I knew Anthony could probably hear me, but I couldn’t have cared less. I needed my sister to know that I had found the man, the one good man, the man who would protect me above all else. I wondered if he’d have done the same for my sister - if she’d found someone like him, and if she’d still be alive. I dismissed the thought from my brain at once and focused back on Lia.

  “And we’re married,” I admitted. “Not even Mom knows yet. I think she’s going to lose her shit when she realizes we had a wedding without her being involved.”

  I could see Lia’s eyes widening, her mouth hanging open with surprise. I could hear her taking Mom’s side with this entirely - she had always made me promise that I would let her be my maid of honor and that she would choose me as hers. I wondered what kind of wedding she would have had -enormous and over-the-top, no doubt, just like her.

  “And I’m pregnant,” I went on. It felt as though I was getting in all the practice I could just saying those words; they were fresh and new, odd and difficult. But at the same time, they held so much promise, and I knew that Lia would have been thrilled at the news that she was going to be an aunt.

  “I’ll name her after you, if she’s a girl,” I promised. I had thought about it a while ago, idly, long before I found out I was actually pregnant. Lia was a beautiful name, and any child would be lucky to have a namesake as special as she was.

  “But… I just wanted to tell you,” I continued, feeling the tears begin to prick at my eyes. “I know that you might not even be able to hear me, but I know you’d have wanted to know. You’re the first person I’ve told about any of it. Apart from Anthony, of course.”

  I shot a look over my shoulder and saw Anthony waiting patiently about ten feet away. He was giving me all the space I needed, and I appreciated that. I turned back to Lia’s grave and continued.

  “You should see him, Lia,” I said, hushing my voice. “He looks just like all the posters I had in my bedroom when we were growing up. You’d be teasing me about it if you could see him.”

  I closed my eyes, wiping away the tears gently. This always happened when I came to see her, but this time, some of those tears were tears of joy - I got to bring her good news for once, and she got to be the first to know about me and Anthony’s marriage and the baby on the way.

  “I’m sorry I couldn’t have done more.” I found my voice cracking a little as I went on. “I’m sorry I couldn’t… help you more than I did. And I know you’d tell me that it was nothing to do with me, I know you literally told me that, but… I’m still sorry.”

  A light wind blew through the cemetery, ruffling my hair lightly and m
aking me shiver. I forced myself to keep talking; to say the words I’d been too frightened to get out every time I’d been here before.

  “But I’m going to move on,” I promised. “I’ve found someone who’ll protect me, who cares about me. I know that’s what scared you most - what happened to you happening to me. But… I’m safe, sis. So are you.”

  I closed my eyes and forced myself to keep talking, no matter how much the lump in my throat burned in distraction.

  “But anyway, I just wanted you to know that he’s a good man and that you’d have approved of him,” I went on. “Though I’m sure Mom’s going to disagree when she meets him and accuses him of stealing me away from her.”

  I got to my feet and patted the grave lightly, looking down at the little ceramic flowers that decorated the bottom. I would have to come back here more often.

  “I promise it won’t be so long till you see me next time,” I murmured, softly, so only she could hear it. Then, after a moment, I turned back to Anthony. He held out his hands to me, and I took them, glad that he was here. I managed a smile, and he returned it, a hint of sadness in his eyes. I wondered if he had lost anyone, or if he was thinking about what would have happened had he been visiting me here. The thought had crossed my mind, I couldn’t lie - I’d been so close to ending up here myself, and I was grateful that I could walk out of there now with my husband and my baby in tow.

  We made our way back up to the car, and found that the sun was beginning to warm us a little; I tilted my head up to the sky, enjoying the feeling of it on my face. Anthony helped me into the car, and I waited for him to join me.

  “You good?” he asked gently. He must have seen the tears in my eyes; I wasn’t good at keeping my emotions under wraps with people who knew me well. My mom always said she could read me like a book, and I supposed Anthony now was no different. He knew me inside out and back to front, an odd thought considering that half a year ago I’d never met him.

  “I’m good.” I nodded, managing another smile. I blinked the tears away, and placed my hand on my stomach; that wouldn’t be the only visit we’d be making to see Lia as a family. No, my baby was going to hear everything about her aunt. She was going to know her as if she had never left us.

  Anthony covered my hand with his. Nothing needed to be said. I loved him so much that it felt as though my heart might swell and burst trying to keep it all in. I had never adored a man as much as I adored him, and I knew he felt the same way about me. And he would feel that for our baby too. He was my savior, my husband, and the love of my life.

  As he put the car into gear, I closed my eyes and let the gentle movements put me to sleep. I had so much to look forward to, and I knew I would need my energy.

  THE END

  To receive a free copy of an exclusive short, join my mailing list by clicking on the link or the banner below

  http://eepurl.com/b907gD

  Read on for your FREE bonus book – WIFE FOR A PRICE

  WIFE FOR A PRICE: A Hitman Fake Marriage Romance

  By Kathryn Thomas

  NO PRICE IS TOO STEEP TO KEEP HIM FROM CLAIMING ME.

  Mine is a Cinderella story – just without the happy ending.

  I thought serving drunks at Hooters was rock bottom…

  Until Hound showed up.

  You might think he was my Prince Charming.

  But you’d be dead freaking wrong.

  He didn’t come to save me, or to sweep me off my feet.

  He came to chain me to his bed and make me moan his name.

  Hound is here to collect on what my father owes from gambling.

  He’s willing to negotiate… but he sure as hell won’t be leaving empty-handed.

  Matter of fact, he wants his hands on me.

  And he won’t take no for an answer.

  Because Hound needs a fake wife.

  In return for agreeing to play along, he’ll forgive my father’s debts.

  But what happens when pretending becomes something more?

  The longer I force myself to follow Hound’s orders, the more I want to do it for real.

  I want to be his toy, his slave, his plaything.

  I want to be his wife…

  For a price.

  Chapter One

  Daisy

  Sometimes I close my eyes and imagine I’m standing on a tiny island in the middle of a still lake. I’m not doing anything. There’s nobody bothering me. I’m just standing there, unknown to the world, the world uninterested in me, just standing and letting a light breeze caress my face. Peace…is that too much to ask? I don’t need a lifetime of peace, but perhaps a few minutes of it, hell, a few seconds of it. Perhaps if I could just stand on this island for a half-second my life wouldn’t seem as hectic and insurmountable as it often does. But sooner or later, you have to stop pretending; sooner or later, you have to open your eyes. But I don’t go back to my hectic, hellish, debt-ridden life because I want to. No, I go back to it because, just like most people, I need the money.

  I open my eyes and find myself in the cloakroom of The Lady Shack, hunched over a cheese-and-ham sandwich with the crusts cut off. Off to my left, Candice is pushing her massive D-cups into a push-up bra which leaves nothing to the imagination. Off to the left, Sarah and Jessica are tittering about something. Sarah keeps glancing at me with those long eyelashes, with those pouty fake lips. I have nothing wrong with plastic surgery. I just hate that I can’t see what Sarah’s thinking. I try and imagine her at the funeral of somebody she loves, but I can’t. I just see a collagen mold standing there. Candice struts out of the cloak room, shaking her ass at me, throwing me a wink. “Gotta get those tips, girl.” She giggles and leaves the room.

  Sarah is tall, Jessica taller, both with deep bronze artificial tans and massive round artificial breasts. Don’t get me wrong. My breasts aren’t exactly on the small side. But these bitches could be hanging upside down bat-style and their tits still wouldn’t move. Jessica picks crumbs from her plate. Sarah doesn’t even go in for that pretense. She just sits there, head held high, not even deigning to sniff her food. And then they titter, and whisper. So much for peace.

  I look down at my sandwich and try to ignore them. But ignoring people means distracting yourself, thinking of something else, and as I sit here, I find that there’s nothing I can turn my mind to. Working at The Lady Shack—Burgers, Beers, Boobs!—is not exactly a barrel of laughs, but then again waitressing isn’t great fun, either. But most people have the luxury of at least thinking to themselves: Okay, this shift sucks, this day sucks, this week sucks, this month sucks, but at least I’ll be able to buy X with all this suffering. Well, X for me means constant payments to my gambling-addicted father, who’s so far in debt he’d need an oil-drill to get out.

  “Two jobs, and still no hope. Welcome to America.”

  “What’s that, Duncey?” Sarah hisses, glee in her dull brown eyes. Dykey is Sarah’s hilarious and subtle way of rhyming my name with an insult.

  Sarah’s the sort of woman who never understood the concept of high school ending. It’s like she was birthed into the world at fourteen and never grew past eighteen. I imagine she was the Homecoming Queen, and the Prom Queen, and the Queen Queen. And on the final dance of the final year of high school, she just stood there, in her Queenly dress, waiting for it to go on. Even in her Lady Shack tank top, breasts squashed to make the men’s minds go wild as all ours are, she sneers and snaps and giggles just like she’s in the cafeteria. And like all bullying high-school-minded women, she hasn’t had trouble recruiting a sidekick. Jessica just sniggers, covers her mouth, flits her eyes all over the place. A classic sidekick wretch.

  “Nothing,” I say, walking across the room to the trashcan. I can’t be bothered to fight. There’s no purpose to it. At the end of the day, we’re all working at The Lady Shack. We’re all grope-meal for the men’s egos out there. “I need to get back to work.”

  “We were just wondering about the last time you took a shower,” S
arah says, giggling. “We were wondering if it was April or May.”

  “Today’s August,” Jessica adds stupidly, folding her arms like she’s just made a very good point.

  “Congratulations, y’all,” I say. “You can read a calendar.”

  The Lady Shack is perhaps the most hellish place in Texas, which, in summer, is itself the most hellish place in the States. The sun batters down on Austin as though it’s angry at the earth, making every piece of sidewalk a scorching misstep and every shadow a cooling relief. Sun cooks cars and makes men’s wives sweatier than usual. It makes their homes less appealing. It makes their one-bedroom apartments into mini-ovens. And so they come here, The Lady Shack, with promises of air conditioning and Wi-Fi and iced soda and sexy dead-eyed women smiling at them and telling them how funny they are whilst eyeing their wallets. I walk between the aisles to the waitress station, catching snippets of conversation.