Chapter 73

I sigh, hanging my head, not meeting any of the dozen eyes that are on me right now. Instead, I press my eyes shut, and force myself to take a deep breath, trying to pat down my anxiety and my dread, wondering how the hell I’m going to handle this.

I mean, should I ask Christian to get me out of it? It might cause him some trouble, but he could probably do it.

But then, do I want to get out of it? Edward is dangerous and forward and has made his intentions towards me quite clear. And if I’m being fully honest with myself…something in me enjoyed that.

God, did I like what just happened?

Am I…am I into the danger of this mafia lifestyle!?

Suddenly I need air. My eyes fly open as I lift my head and stride across the bar towards the service area, needing to go outside.

“Bambi!” Andre calls after me, clearly pissed.

“I’m taking my break, Andre!” I call over my shoulder, my voice sharp.

“You were just on a break for an hour!”

But I ignore him, pushing through the first door into the service area and heading directly for the door which leads out to the parking lot. The bouncer, standing there and guarding this entrance, gives me a strange look, but he doesn’t try to stop me.

I take a deep breath of the fresh air as soon as I get outside, leaning against the back wall of the bar and again shutting my eyes. I thank god that the sun’s already setting in these cold winter days, because I don’t want light and sunshine right now – I want night, and darkness, and rest.

The world thankfully complies for a few minutes, allowing me to stand in the quiet and sort through my thoughts, trying to figure myself out.

My whole life I’ve thought of myself as kind of a sensible, even timid girl. I’m a hard worker, I like to be home, I like to cook and clean and make my friends and family feel safe and warm.

But if I really think about it…am I kidding myself? Is that even true?

When Steven and I needed side money, it’s not like I became a waitress or a house cleaner. Nope, I went straight to the strip club, telling myself that because I have a background in dance that this is the natural next step for me.

Then, when Christian gave me a home – a penthouse, even! – and three men to care for, all I wanted to do was get out. I took the first job offered to me in a mob bar, and even though Frankie told me out to get out of it – just be bad at it and get fired – I found myself loving it.

And today, I’m sitting across a booth from a mobster who is running his hand up my thigh and calling me a “good girl,” telling me he wants me to be obedient for him, and I’m…I’m turned on by it!?

I mean, who am I?

I groan a little, turning my head away from the world, letting the cold wind slap against my cheek like a reprimand.

My reverie is cut short, though, when the service entrance to Lupa opens again. I look over towards the sound, and no part of me is surprised to see Frankie come through the door. He’s my bodyguard, after all. And my body has been unguarded for the past ten minutes.

I watch passively as he quietly closes the door behind him and comes to lean against the wall next to me. He holds out his hand and uncurls his fingers. “Cigarette?”

I stare in shock at the lighter and the two Marlboro Reds in his palm.

“Frankie!” I say, laughing a little. “You don’t even smoke!”

“Neither do you,” he says, grinning at me. “I stole these from Andre. Don’t tell him, or he’ll beat me up, like he used to do for stealing his cigarettes when I was a kid.”

“You smoked his cigarettes when you were a kid?” I ask, a smile finding my lips.

“Yeah, I had a full blown nicotine addiction by the time I was nine,” he says, laughing and shaking his head. “I was…not an easy little brother. Or son. Or…anything. But,” he says, shrugging and holding his hand out further, “if you’re having an existential crisis, there’s nothing better than a cigarette to take the edge off.”

I sigh, reaching for one of the cigarettes and holding it awkwardly in my hand, studying it. I’ve never had a cigarette before.

Like I said – I’ve always been a good girl.

Frankie bows his head, his cigarette between his lips, and casually lights it with well-practiced movements. When he’s finished that, he reaches for my cigarette and plucks it from my hand. My eyebrows go up just a little when he places my cigarette in his mouth, but then he raises the lit end of his cigarette to the end of mine, and takes a breath, lighting my cigarette too.

When Frankie holds the now-lit cigarette out to me, filter first, he exhales a long breath of smoke. I take the cigarette delicately in my hands and raise it to my lips, looking at the end. Where Frankie’s lips were just pressed.

“It’s not going to bite you, Bambi,” he murmurs, his voice soft, but with a low line of humor.

“I don’t want to get cancer,” I say, smirking and raising my eyes to his.

Frankie laughs at me. “Bambs,” he sighs, reaching out and wrapping an arm around my shoulders, pulling me close. “With all the shit you’re wrapping yourself up in? Lung cancer is the least of your worries right now.”

I laugh and lean into his side, his warmth, and experimentally take the cigarette between my lips. Then, while we both stand quietly, I take an experimental breath in, pulling the smoke into my lungs just slightly.

I immediately start coughing, and I can feel Frankie’s grin, even if I can’t see it.

“Oh ew,” I say, making a face and frowning up at him, a little cough still wracking my frame. “God, why would anyone ever have a second!?”

Frankie laughs again. “Because it looks cool, Bambs! It’s all for the ladies.”

“Well, I don’t want any ladies,” I sigh, turning my head away and looking at the darkening tree-line, at the purple and pink sky above it.

“More for me,” Frankie murmurs, making me grin. We’re quiet, then for a long time.

“Why’d you bring me a cigarette, Frank?” I ask, breaking the silence, still not looking at him, letting the cigarette burn down between my fingers.

“Because you looked like you needed one,” he murmurs, taking another pull on his.

I look up at him now, at the silhouette of his face against the sky. “What does that mean?” I ask.

“It means,” he says, turning towards me, his face so close to mine now that I can feel his breath on my cheek, “that you looked like you were suddenly rethinking every choice you’ve ever made, and who you are, and like you couldn’t remember your name. Which is precisely when…a person needs a cigarette.”

“Is that why you started smoking?” I ask, going for a bit of a joke. “When you were nine?”

But Frankie doesn’t take the bait, not laughing, just giving me a sad little smile. “That’s precisely why I started smoking when I was nine.”

I sigh, leaning against him, resting my head on his collar bone. “I don’t even know my name anymore,” I confess, my voice hardly more than a whisper. “It’s not like you even call me by it.”

“I’ll call you anything you want me to call you,” he replies, serious for once. “Bambi. Iris. Baby. Gorgeous. Darling.”

I smile up at him, and raise my hand to his cheek. “I think I like it when you call me Bambi.”

“Good,” he murmurs, leaning closer, nudging my nose with his. “That’s the one I like too. Little baby deer.”

My smile is immediate at how sweet he’s being, and I open my mouth to ask if he thinks I’m like a deer, when suddenly the service door creeks open.

“Bambi!” Andre barks, stepping out and looking around. “Your break is over –“

But then he goes still, seeing me and Frankie standing so close together, his arm still around me, cigarettes between his hands. Frankie and I just look back at him, likewise not moving.

“Ohhh my god,” Andre groans, turning back into the bar. “You know what? I don’t even what to know. I never saw this. I was inside the whole time.”

“There’s nothing to see!” I protest, laughing and stepping away from Frankie, moving to catch the door behind Andre as it swings shut.

“That’s not the case from where I’m standing,” Frankie says on a sigh, and I turn as I pull open the door to see him watching me go inside.

And I still, because I realize that he’s saying…

But Frankie just waves me off. “I’ll finish this,” he says, turning away from me and holding his cigarette up. “Be inside in a moment.”

I stand, for a second, taking in the shape of his shoulders in the growing dark, the way he hangs his head, shakes it.

And then, biting my lip, I crush my cigarette under my food and step back into Lupa to get back to work.