Irrevocable

  “Let’s be clear on this,” I say, sighing. “I’m not making a request. I’m just extending you the courtesy of setting the price. Now let’s try again. How much do you want for her?”

  “Does Rinaldo know about this?” Teto asks.

  I can almost hear the hint of a threat in his voice, and my fingers tighten reflexively on the phone. I take in a breath through my nose and try to let it out slowly.

  “I realize you haven’t been with us long,” I say, “and for that reason alone, I’m not on my way to see you personally right now.” I pause and let him think about exactly what I mean. “I do not confirm my actions with Rinaldo when it comes to topics he cares nothing about. He trusts my judgment on all things. I wouldn’t dream of wasting a busy man’s time with a personal matter. I suggest you don’t, either. Capisce?”

  “Yeah,” he says quietly, “I get it.”

  He’s quiet for a moment and then quotes me an outrageous number.

  “Try again,” I suggest.

  He must finally understand who he’s dealing with and gives me a much more reasonable price.

  “I’ll have it delivered to your residence.” I actually have no idea where the man lives, but I’m sure Jonathan can figure it out in a couple of minutes.

  I hang up the phone and hand it back to Alina.

  “Did you just…did you just buy me?”

  “I did.”

  “Evan! What the hell are you thinking?” She sits up and moves a little away from me.

  “I’m thinking I’m tired of waiting on you to be done with some other asshole before you get around to me.”

  “So what am I supposed to do? Hang out in my apartment and wait for you to call me? Evan, that’s not going to happen!”

  “Of course not,” I say. “You can move in here.”

  “Move in with you?”

  “Right. Keeps it all simple. It doesn’t change anything.”

  “Well, yes it does, actually.” Her tone is biting, but I really don’t know why.

  “You’re still a whore, and I’m still your john,” I say simply. “The only thing that changes is that I don’t have to go looking for you now. You’ll already be here. You’ll still sleep with me, and I’ll still fuck you when I feel like it.”

  I give her a smile, but she doesn’t return it. Instead, she rolls her eyes.

  “Evan, you can’t just buy me!”

  “Seriously?” I laugh. “I’ve been paying for you for weeks. This just makes it easier. I’m telling you, nothing changes except I’m your only client now. Oh, and you don’t have to give that asshole a cut.”

  Alina wraps her arms around herself and stares at the blanket over her legs. Her mouth is open slightly, and she’s breathing hard. I reach out and touch her arm.

  “It’s all good,” I tell her. She’s obviously getting the wrong impression again, but I don’t know exactly what she’s assuming. “It’s not like I’m going to keep you chained up or anything. You are free to come and go as you like. Just be here in the evenings and at night when I need to sleep.”

  I watch as Alina gulps audibly. She takes in a long breath.

  “Evan, I’m not sure what’s going through your head, but this isn’t going to work. You’re upset right now, and you aren’t thinking clearly.”

  “Yes, I am.” It’s really all quite simple and makes perfect sense to me.

  She huffs through her nose, tilts her head to one side, and looks at me hard.

  “All right,” she says, “let’s play this out. What do you think I’m going to do during the day?”

  “Whatever you want.” I reach up and run a finger over her cheek. “I’m gone a lot of nights, too. When I’m not here, I don’t care what you do as long as you aren’t turning other tricks.”

  She continues to stare at me with a look of incredulity. I have no idea what the problem is. It’s a perfect situation.

  Maybe she’s worried about money.

  “You can go shopping. See a show or whatever. I’ll even get you a credit card.” She doesn’t look convinced. “I can still pay you cash as well. You’ll just get room and board as a bonus.”

  “This isn’t what you want, Evan.”

  “Of course it is.” I reach for her hand, but she pulls it back. “Hell, what man wouldn’t? You’d be here whenever I want you. It’s perfect.”

  “It isn’t.” Alina shakes her head. “Yes, you want the sex on a physical level, but it’s really having someone to sleep with that you pay for.”

  I stiffen slightly.

  “And?”

  “And I’m not your girlfriend, Evan. You said it yourself—that’s not what you are looking for—but that’s the situation you’re trying to set up. I’m not here for you to be my sugar daddy.”

  “Well, why the hell not? You’re here a lot anyway, and I’m still paying the bills and getting you the groceries you ask for! What the hell do you care if I throw in a little extra? Besides, the deal’s done. Teto agreed.”

  “No, Evan!” Alina pushes herself off the bed and stands beside it, pointing a finger at me. “You do not get to buy me! I’m a person, a person with a job, not a sex slave!”

  I rub my fingers into my eyes. This isn’t going well, and I don’t understand why. It’s all very clear to me, so why can’t she see it?

  “Your job is to fuck guys! What the hell is the difference?”

  “Because I choose it!” she yells back at me. “I decide who I fuck and when! Not Teto, not the guys who pull up to my corner, and not you!”

  I don’t think anyone has ever spoken to me in such a way. Maybe in basic training when I was still only seventeen, but it certainly hasn’t happened in my adult life. She glares at me, all red-faced and as pissed off as she could possibly be. The look is making my heart pound, but I have no idea if I’m angry or turned on.

  As I try to figure all this out, Alina is pulling her clothes back on and picking up her purse.

  She’s leaving me.

  I just stare as she gathers everything together, not even bothering to sit down to strap up her heels. I wrap my arms around my stomach as my body tenses up on itself. I’m reminded of the note from Lia I found in the cabin, and my stomach cramps again. Alina tosses her purse over her shoulder and doesn’t even glance back at me when she heads for the bedroom door.

  “Don’t leave.” I can barely get the words out, but somehow she hears me.

  Alina stops in her tracks and turns to looks at me. The fire in her eyes lessens, and she lets out a big sigh. With her lips mashed together, she stares down at the floor and grips the strap of her purse. Glancing up at me, she runs her hand through her long hair.

  “You can’t buy me, Evan.”

  In the back of my head, I know how horribly wrong she is. If I want to buy her, I can. Her consent is irrelevant. I have the means and the connections to do exactly that. I can keep her against her will as long as I want. It has nothing to do with Teto, either. The phone call to him was nothing more than a business courtesy. Pimps keep a hold on their hookers through fear—whether it’s fear of being on the streets without protection or fear of the pimps themselves—and I’m far more dangerous than any pimp.

  But Alina doesn’t appear to be afraid.

  “I want you to stay.” I move over to the edge of the bed and place my feet on the floor. I lean over my knees, trying to come up with the right words. “I don’t care what we call it; I just want you to stay.”

  “Why, Evan?”

  “I need you.”

  “You need another body in your bed so you can sleep. What does it matter if it’s me or not?”

  “Not all of them work.”

  “Why?” she asks again. “Do you even know the answer? What difference does it make who it is? I’m sure there are plenty of women out there who want a guy to take care of them.”

  “I want it to be you.” I huff out a breath and run my hand over my head. “I’ve tried lots of other girls. I’ve done hookers and women I meet in bar
s. None of them ever work out. Either they get scared off because I’m fucked up, or they just…just drive me nuts. You’re different.”

  “In what way?”

  “You’re…you’re quiet.” I don’t know if I’m making any sense or not. “You don’t ask me a lot of questions. You don’t pry into my business or my past. You know who I am, but you keep coming back with me. You know…you know some of the things I’ve done in the past, but you aren’t afraid of me. You know what I need when I need it.”

  She sets her purse down on the dresser and walks back to the bed. She sits beside me and places her hand on my thigh.

  “Tell me what you really need, Evan.” Her voice is soft—kind, even.

  “I don’t want to be alone. With everything going on right now, I can’t trust myself to be alone. Trying to find you when I need you just puts me on edge.”

  She runs her hand down my thigh and tightens her grip around my knee. She wets her lips and then turns to face me.

  “I don’t know what’s going on in your head,” Alina says quietly. “I want to help you, Evan. Honestly, I do. I’m not sure this is the answer.”

  “Will you try it?” I look up, hopeful. “I mean, maybe just for a few days or something?”

  “A trial, live-in hooker?”

  “Yes.”

  “Evan, this is crazy.”

  “I’m a little crazy.” I shrug. Some things just can’t be denied. “You already know that.”

  “You’ve been hurt, Evan. You’re suffering. That’s not the same thing.”

  “Tell that to all the shrinks who have diagnosed me.” I try to crack a smile, but I can’t quite pull it off. I speak slowly as I look at her. “You know enough about me to know I’m a mess.”

  “You are a mess,” Alina says with a nod. “It’s an understandable mess though. You’ve been through a lot and you’re going through a lot right now. Your job has to be incredibly stressful even when things are going well. I think being a mess under those circumstances is normal rather than crazy.”

  I’ve never thought about it that way. I suppose my job can get a little complicated, but I’ve never considered it stressful. In fact, it’s the job that keeps me cool. All the other stuff that happens in life is what gets to me. However, I don’t want to argue with her about it. I just want her to agree to stay.

  “You’ll stay, then?” I ask.

  She stares at her hand where it still grips my knee. She turns to me slowly, studying me for a long minute as she contemplates.

  “All right,” she finally says. “We’ll do this for one week. After that, I go back home, and we both think about it.”

  “I can live with that.” Actually, the idea of her leaving after only a week makes my stomach flutter, but I’ll cope with it. That’s a decent amount of time to get her to change her mind. “But you’ll stay the whole week, right? No backing out.”

  “No backing out,” she agrees.

  I really want this to work.

  Chapter 16—Startling Discovery

  The liquor store is simply gross.

  My shoes are sticking to the floor and making that horrible squeaky-scratch sound when I lift my feet. I can see little grey footprints all over the place from everyone else who has been in here, and I wonder how much of it is from vomit. It’s disgusting.

  I consider abandoning the whole plan, but I’m not going to do that. I want to get a good look at this guy. If he’s done what I think he’s done, I want to get a good look at him before I kill him.

  Just after four o’clock, I hear the little bell on the door ring, and James Marino walks in.

  “Good mornin’, Jimmy,” the store owner says with a laugh.

  “Fuck you, Mac.”

  “Just tryin’ to be neighborly!”

  I feign examining some cheap bottles of blended scotch and watch Jimmy through my dark sunglasses. Despite the thin, greying hair and hollow cheeks, I can still see a hint of Alina in him. His eyes, though sunken, are the same color as hers, and there’s something about the way he stands that seems familiar.

  He steps immediately up to the shelf full of whiskeys near where I stand and grabs for a bottle of Jim Beam. He doesn’t take any notice of me as he mumbles something about the shopkeeper jacking up the price and takes his purchase to the counter.

  “It’s a buck more than yesterday.” His complaint is ignored, and he slams a few bills on the counter.

  “Sign up for the lottery,” Mac says. “Gonna pick a winner every day.”

  “Whatever the fuck,” Jimmy grumbles. “Is this supposed to make up for you fucking around with the prices?”

  “I only work here, Jimmy. You know that.”

  Jimmy leans over the scrap of paper Mac has handed him and scribbles on it before shoving it into a cardboard box near the cash register. He exits without another word.

  I reach for the nearest bottle and take it up to the counter.

  “Will this be all for ya?” Mac asks.

  “Yep.” I push my sunglasses up on my nose.

  “Hair of the dog, huh?” Mac chuckles.

  “Something like that,” I say with a smile. Mostly I don’t want to make my looks too easily recognizable. I also don’t want to look like I’m trying to disguise myself, which makes people look at you longer.

  “Wanna sign up for our lottery?”

  “What’s the prize?”

  “Twenty-five dollar gift card.”

  “Sure.” I scrawl out a completely illegible entry and shove it in the cardboard box.

  “Have a good one!” Mac calls as I head out.

  “You, too,” I reply, and the door closes behind me with a bang.

  Jimmy is no longer in sight, but I assume he’s headed back to his apartment. He’s collecting disability for a supposed back injury and doesn’t appear to go out much. I toss my bottle of cheap liquor into the passenger seat of the Volvo and drive off.

  I don’t go far. There’s a park just a couple of blocks away, and it’s as good a place as any to kill some time. I don’t want to be out terribly late even though Alina said she needed a couple of days to get herself in order before she moved in.

  I’ve delivered Teto’s money. I have no idea what she’s going to tell him, if anything at all, but at least my business with him is done. I talked to the landlord about moving into a two bedroom unit as well. I figured Alina might like to have her own space, and I want to do anything and everything to make this work out.

  At some point, she’s going to hear about her father. I don’t know how she’ll react, and I’m not sure I can play dumb well enough for her to think I had nothing to do with it. No matter how good an actor I might be, she’s going to have her suspicions.

  That doesn’t matter. Assholes like James Marino need to be handled.

  Shortly after nine o’clock, I drive to the post office around the corner and hoof it from there. Most of the streetlights are out of commission, and there’s little light to show my passage. The apartment building where Jimmy lives isn’t secured at all, and I just walk right in and find his unit. I pull on a pair of leather gloves and knock on the door.

  “What the fuck do you want?” Jimmy’s words are slightly slurred.

  “I’m from the liquor store,” I say through the door. “Mac sent me. He says you won today’s lottery, but ya gotta come pick it up before ten. He tried callin’ ya.”

  I hear the chain lock slide to one side, and I brace myself. As soon as the door is open a couple of inches, I throw my body weight at it, and Jimmy goes flying. I shut the door behind me and follow him inside. A second later, I’m straddling him, and my gun is in his face.

  “You scream; you die.”

  He stares up at me with bloodshot eyes, nodding rapidly.

  “I ain’t got no cash.”

  “Isn’t that a shame?” I lean back and haul him up by his collar before roughly throwing him into a threadbare recliner. I point the gun at him again. “Take off your shoes and socks.”

&nbs
p; “Why the fuck?”

  “This is the part where you do exactly what the guy with the gun tells you to do.”

  He eyes me blearily, but he seems to be sobering up pretty quickly as he removes his shoes and socks. When he’s done, he sits back in the chair.

  “Put these on.” I hand him a fresh pair of socks and some wool gloves. He eyes me, confused, but does as I instruct. I pull out some zip ties from my pocket to secure his hands and feet, making sure the ties are on the outside of the cloth and don’t leave a mark.

  I look at him for a long moment. I can see an artery hammering in his neck, and there’s sweat on his forehead. He’s nervous and rightfully so.

  “Feeling a little helpless?” I raise my eyebrows and give him a cold smile as I pick up one of his socks and ball it up in my hand. It’s slightly damp and leaves a mark on the gloves. I’ll have to pitch them when I’m through. Taking a step closer to the chair, I shove one of the dirty socks in Jimmy mouth. His hands are bound in front of him, but when he reaches up to try to get it out, I stop him with the gun in his face. “Now, now, leave that alone. We’re going to have a little conversation. Or rather, you’re going to listen to me because I don’t really give a fuck what you have to say.”

  I grab a folding chair and turn it around before I sit in front of him and lean over the back, gun dangling. I look at him with my head tilted to the side and just stare as I count to sixty. He’s really sweating now, and it’s difficult for him to swallow with the sock-gag.

  “So, what is it about young girls, anyway?” I ask. “Grown up pussy isn’t tight enough for your measly dick?”

  His eyes widen and he starts to shake his head. I point the gun at his face and tell him to be still. He obeys immediately.

  “If I ask you a yes or no question, you can nod or shake your head. So far, everything I have to say is pretty much rhetorical.”

  I roll my shoulders one at a time and then stretch my neck. I let him wait and wonder for another minute before I speak again.

  “It’s too bad you aren’t locked up. Instead, you got off on some bullshit technicality,” I say. “I mean, if you were in prison right now, I would have a little more difficulty getting to you. Not that it wouldn’t have been done, but it might have cost me a little money or at least a pack of smokes.”