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“Anytime.” Marty’s gaze remains locked on my face for a breath longer, and then he turns away.
CHAPTER 11
After Marty dresses in his hippie attire, we head back to my room. I need to grab clothes and shower. “I shouldn’t be here. Someone took a shot at me the other day.”
By the time I say it, we’re already in my room. Amber’s been here and dumped half her closet onto my bed. She totally trashed the room and it still smells like smoke. Her bed sheets are rumpled and there’s a watermark on them—still fresh. She’s so disgusting. I take all of her crap and dump it on her bed.
“I wish she’d keep her crap on her side of the room. I hate it when she does this.”
Marty grabs my elbow. I wince and he releases me. The wound still hurts. “What the f*ck is going on with you? Who took a shot at you?”
I shake my head. “Not now. Let me get my stuff and get out. If Sean or Black finds out I was here, well, I’d just rather not.”
Marty stiffens, and folds his arms across his chest. He looks like a hippie that could take out Manhattan. Irony. “Fine. Hurry up. I’ll watch the door, and it goes without saying that anyone that messes with you while I’m around dies.”
I smile at him. The words are so wrong that it’s ridiculous, especially coming out of his mouth. “Got it.”
I manage to shower, change, and grab a bag of clothes before taking off again. Marty and I leave the room and that’s when we run into Amber.
“Whore,” she says as she walks by.
I stop and turn back, “I’m not the one that has come stains all over my sheets. And, oh yeah, don’t throw your crap on my bed. I took the liberty of putting your stuff back on your side of the room. You might want to move that silk slut shirt you like so much. It would be a pity if it got wet.”
Marty looks bored. “Seriously? You two are going to have another cat fight? We should buy you both Catwoman costumes. At least that’d be more entertaining.”
“Shut up, queer,” Amber snaps at him. Marty just laughs in response, which makes Amber turn to nuclear bitch mode. “Laugh it up, because while you two were out talking about boy problems, I was in there actually fu**ing a real man.”
“I think you meant three or forty.” Marty replies with a grin on his face. “I forget how whorey you are when we don’t see each other for a few days. You see, me, I’m a one guy kinda girl and so is Avery. We’re romantics and you’re disgusting. Like she said, silk shirt, bottom of the pile of shit Avery tossed on your bed. Better go get it.”
“I’m going to get even with you for that, you skank!”
People are watching us now. A few doors have opened and some students mill at the end of the halls. “Go ahead and try.” I turn away to leave, but Amber laughs that horrible cackle of hers which makes me turn back.
She’s holding up her phone. “Who wants to see Avery sexting with my man?”
For a second, I think she’s bluffing, but she turns the volume up on her phone and I hear my voice mid-rapture. I lunge, trying to take the phone from her, but she’s already passed it to someone else. Amber gives me a satisfied smile. “Who’s the real whore here, Avery? At least I didn’t take money from him.”
She knows. Holy shit, she knows what I’ve done.
Amber giggles and shouts at the crowd, “Make sure you have a good look. You can get that kind of action too, and from what I hear, she doesn’t cost much.” Amber turns back to me and winks. She walks to our room, cackling.
My hands are clenched by my sides and my entire body is shaking. If I go after the phone, they’ll play keep-away. I start shaking. Gnashing my teeth together, I hiss, “I hope she dies. She’s a horrible excuse for a human being. You goddamn skank!” I scream at her, but Amber is long gone.
Marty’s hands are on my shoulders, “Come on, Avery. Walk away.”
Tears are streaking down my face. “They’re going to share it. That video will be everywhere.”
“Knowing Amber, it already is. Walk away. Come on.” He tugs my good arm and pulls me down the stairwell. I don’t focus on anything until we’re in front of the restaurant.
Marty is sitting across from me and I’m slumped back into the seat, hating myself. “This is why I don’t think you should take the madam job. If this happened to Black--”
“This wouldn’t have happened to Black.”
“My point exactly. Sex is power, Avery. Everyone knows that. It’s not like Amber got into your private life. If you’re going to do this you need to be fearsome. You’re not.”
I groan, okay, it’s more like a whine. “I don’t know how.”
“Yes, you do. You fight back, and I could tell you wanted to claw her face off. Dial that down a notch so it’s not clear how you’ll hurt her, but so that she knows it’s coming. Then own it. If you fu**ed half of Manhattan, own it. Be proud. You chose this life.”
Those last three words do something to me. I don’t know if it’s good or bad, but I feel something combust within me. I’m sick of fighting with people and I crave the respect that Miss Black demands. Maybe I won’t be like my mother and make the best meatballs, but who cares when no one respects me?
My gaze drifts up to Marty’s. “I did, and I will. No more hiding. No more half-assed Avery.”
“Bring it.”
“I will, and I won’t get even with Amber, I’ll own her.” A smile snakes across my lips.
“Now, there’s my girl.”
CHAPTER 12
Marty and I are the only one’s ordering ice cream. It isn’t even lunchtime yet. I have forbidden chocolate ice cream with peanut butter sauce and hot fudge. Five scoops. Marty is sitting across from me, trying to show me that he can swallow an entire banana.
“And that would impress a woman, because?” I laugh at him when he chokes. “Give me that.” I take the other banana half from his ice cream and slip it between my lips until all but the very tip disappears.
“Overachiever.”
The way he says it makes me laugh and I start choking. Half the banana goes down and the other half gets chomped off, falls from my mouth, and rolls across the table. Marty’s eyes go wide. “That was truly frightening. My junk just jumped up into my body and I doubt it’ll come down again for weeks.”
I’m laughing and choking. I grab my glass of milk and wash it down. “Your boys need some attention.”
“Not from you. Dear God! You chopped it off!”
We’re both giggling so much that we can’t really speak. When I catch my breath, I manage, “Seriously, Marty. You need to get some action. Date someone. Have a one-nighter.”
He offers me a classic Marty look, with the corner of his mouth tugged up into an Elvis-like smile. “Oh, do you have someone in mind? And what are you charging, Miss Thang? Is that going to be your madam name? Because I totally think it should be. Miss Thang, plus some air snaps.” He does it and watches me.
I poke at my ice cream. “I’m so torn. I want the white picket fence, not an office full of pricks buying girls.”
“So, have both. You can be the suburban madam. Who said you couldn’t have the fence?”
Glancing up at him, I answer, “They don’t go together. That kind of life is sweet and quiet with kids and a dog. The life Black is offering is flash, power, and cash.”
“Like I said, do both.” I’m about to tell him that I can’t, and he cuts me off. “Think long term, Avery. Do this for a little while, enough to get your house and the life you want, and then quit.”
“That sounds familiar.”
“You weren’t a madam this time and you had a run of bad luck.”
“No one would marry me after that. That’s a closet and a half full of skeletons, skeletons in the basement, skeletons in the trunk—they’ll be everywhere by then.” Not to mention the real one decomposing as we speak. The thought makes me nauseous.
I must have turned green, because Marty shoves me his soda. “Drink.” After a moment, he asks, “Feel better?”
I nod. “Yeah, thank you.”
Leaning back in the booth, Marty nods. “And if it’s not too forward, I would.”
“I couldn’t ask you to do that.” I shove ice cream into my mouth and concentrate on the chocolate. The fudgy goodness could make a person orgasmic. A person, being me. I nearly moan.
Marty laughs. “I’d give you a jar of hot fudge every day.”
“And I’d be three hundred pounds.”
“And I’d never forget your birthday, and I’d occasionally dress like a cowboy just for kicks.”
That makes me spew. “Marty!” Sexy cowboy Marty was the funniest thing I’d ever seen and I would have laughed if I didn’t want to kill him at the time.
He pushes a napkin at me and wipes my sputtered chocolate spittle off his hands. “I’m serious. I’ll be your backup plan. If you say yes to Black, I’ll take you no matter how many things you’ve done—or who you’ve done. Tell me I’m good enough to be Plan B, Avery. I’ll get you the white picket fence and we can name the dog Bob. What do you say?” He holds out his hand, like his offer is serious.
That’s when I realize it is. He wants me anyway he can take me, and if I go through with Black’s job no one will want me. It’ll mean that I’ve left Sean, because if I chose Black over him, he’ll never forgive me.
Reaching out, I take Marty’s hand and shake. “Deal. I’m your picket fence wife. When everything turns to shit, you’ll sweep me off my feet.”
He smiles and follows it up with a wink. “You know it.”
CHAPTER 13
I spend the rest of the day hanging out with Marty. My phone rings right after we eat dinner. It’s Black. “Hello?”
“Go to your dorm room and wait. Ferro will be there shortly.” The line goes dead.
I sigh, and slump back into my seat before pushing my hair out of my face. “Can you drop me back off at the dorm?”
Marty looks confused. “I thought you were supposed to stay away from there.”
“I am, but Black said Sean will be there.”
Marty nods and pays the tab. He drops me off at the tower and drives away after I go inside. I stand at the bottom of the stairwell, not wanting to face all the jeers that will come when I go up. I decide to grab a drink first and then go up with Sean.
I push through the door and walk to the nearest bar, which is a bit of hike. Cars zoom past me and I worry that each one will try to put a hole in my head. I text Sean and tell him where to meet me.
He replies: No. Go to your room.
That makes me laugh. I text back: Make me.
Then I pocket my phone and don’t answer when he calls. Yes, I’m acting like a petulant child, but he can deal with it. I shove inside and go to a back corner so no one can walk behind me.
The waiter is really hot. He takes my order and brings it right over. “Rough day?” he asks after setting down the vodka in front of me.
“Rough life. Bring a few more of those in a moment.”
Hot guy smiles at me. “Yes, ma’am.”
I down the drink and only gag a little bit. By the time my third drink is in hand, Sean is in the doorway. He looks pissed and beautiful. His shoulders are squared and his jaw is locked. A dark shirt clings to his chest beneath the leather jacket he loves so much. Blue jeans fit snuggly to his h*ps and he has on his shit-kicker boots.
Sean glances around the room until he sees me. He takes a few long strides, pulls out a chair, and sits down. “Make me?”
My eyes cut over to Sean. “That’s what I said.”
“Listen, you can hate me all you want tomorrow. We have this set up. I have a box to sneak you out with, but people need to see you walk into the room. Black’s men are in place. You go in and come out. Nothing bad will happen to you. I promise.” Sean takes my hands when he says the last two words. “We have to do this.”
I nod slowly and finally feel the effects of the alcohol. “I know, but I’m not doing it sober. Claustrophobic girls don’t belong in boxes, not unless they’re tanked. So here we go.” I knock back another drink and accidentally breathe wrong which makes my nose feel like it’s caught fire. I choke and reach for my glass of water.
“Lightweight.”
“Much better than being a fat whore. A skinny one is preferable, right? Salute.” I hold up my next shot glass to him as he gives me a quizzical look.
“What are you talking about?”
“The videos of me sexting Naked Guy. It turns out that Amber didn’t delete all of them and this morning she passed around her phone to half the floor and I got to stand there while she did it.”
Wrath blazes in Sean’s eyes. He stands abruptly and takes my wrist. “Let’s go. We’ll handle this.”
I pull away. “Fuck, no. I’ll handle this. I’m going to kick her ass and throw her out the window. Then, I’ll climb into my box and let your people clean up the mess.” I down another drink before he can pull me away, but most of it spills on the floor. “Sean,” I whine his name before dropping the glass on the floor.
The waiter starts to say something. He walks over in front of Sean, but Sean shoves two hundred bucks in his hand. “Sorry about the mess.”
Hot waiter guy asks, “Are you all right?”
“Yes, this is Mr. Ferro and Mr. Ferro is sort of grumpy, one hundred percent of the time.” I smile at the waiter and wave with my fingertips. “Please excuse me. I need to go find my box.”
Sean huffs and waits to scold me until we’re outside, but I’m already tipsy, so I don’t care. There’s a serene smile plastered to my face. “Avery, we’re very late. This plan doesn’t work if people don’t see you.”
“Yes, I’m aware.” Sean is pissed but he doesn’t say anything else. I climb into his little black sports car that’s parked at the curb, and we drive back to the dorm. “Where’s your bike?”
“I don’t ride it anymore.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s only fun when you’re with me. Otherwise it’s an oversized, bulky piece of shit.”
I giggle. I can’t help it. “That’s not nice, Sean. You said you liked it. It’s so pretty and shiny.”
“And heavy and slow…”