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It’s his cocky grin and smoldering green eyes. His filthy words and possessive touch. The way he commands respect by simply entering a room or how he treats me like I’m a precious doll.
Like he needs me just as much as I do him.
This is crazy—we’re insane—but it works. We click. Connect on a level that I’ve never experienced before.
Mom’s words come to mind then:
Hold onto it with both hands and never let go. Savor each moment you have together because tomorrow is never promised.
The two sides of him draw me in, pull, until my will becomes his. Because I find myself wanting to please him. Make him happy.
“Where do you want us to put these boxes?” Javier asks, pointing at the man named Jimmy that works for Malcolm. He’s serious and a little weird, looking at everything and keeping tabs of the expensive items inside the living room.
He makes me feel uneasy—looks at me as if he knows me, or something that I don’t. But instead of saying something, I don’t.
For now, I’ll pay attention to my surroundings and count down the minutes until he leaves. Until I can speak to Javier or Malcolm about the emotions he evokes.
My gut doesn’t trust him, and Gina doesn’t seem to either. I’ve caught her looking at him a few times, eyes narrowed and body tense.
Always standing closer to me when he’s in the room. Like now, she moves to stand in front of me while speaking with Javi, blocking me a bit from view.
She did this at my father’s house.
Never leaving me alone. Always near and alert, even though no one was home. No signs of Dad and Alton as I took my belongings and we drove away without a backwards glance.
I force a smile and point at the corner near the back. “It’ll be fine over there. Actually, put them all there.”
Not that there’s many. Six boxes and once suitcase is all I packed, grabbing what’s important and irreplaceable.
The money I’ve been saving that I hid beneath an old floorboard under my bed. A few photo albums, Mom’s old jewelry box with what’s left inside—what Dad hasn’t been able to sell and gamble away. My clothes aren’t much and take no space, while my books fill two boxes.
Everything else are things that Mom left behind for me.
Mementos, a box that’s taped up, and in her handwriting, with knickknack she saved from each one of my birthdays. Almost a lifetime worth of memories. It’s been in my closet for years, from the day I found it in our attic underneath a blanket and beside the chest with my old baby items.
“That’s all for tonight,” Javier says then, bringing my attention to the three of them. “Jimmy, take the night off. I’m going to need you tomorrow morning.”
“I don’t mind staying. Help Gina with—”
“I’m not repeating myself.” Javier’s tone doesn’t leave room for argument. It’s final, and I watch how Jimmy forces a neutral expression on his face. “Report downtown at nine. I’ll be there to grab you. We have an order pickup for the boss.”
“Understood. Have a good night.” With a final glance my way, he walks out with Javi following behind him. We don’t say anything as we wait for Javier to come back; the feeling is mutual.
Something is off with him.
Instead, I busy myself by opening the first box, which has books. I pull them out one by one, stacking them atop a table until I can figure out where to put them.
Hopefully Magda can give me an idea in the morning.
“Want some help with that?” Gina asks after a while, coming to stand beside me. “I’m an amazing unpacker.”
I smile at her. “How about organizing by color? I’ve always wanted to put them on a shelf in a gradient style; lightest to darkest.”
“Sounds good to me.” Gina starts with the ones on the table while I inspect a small book of poems that Mom always kept on her nightstand. There are scribbles in her penmanship, little notes on how a specific line made her feel. How beautiful they were.
“And that one?” Javier’s voice cuts through my memories, bringing my focus to him. He’s pointing at the small book in my hand. “Is that one going to the library like the rest? Or will they go in the office?”
“I was thinking about getting them sorted while he gets back. I’m not sure where to—”
