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“Shh, don’t say my name,” I warn quietly. “No one can know I’m calling you.”
“What the fuck, girl? Where’ve you been? You know your place has been—”
“I know! Just….chill, okay?”
“Chill?! Girl,fuckchill!” Tasha blurts in her high-pitched voice. “You disappear for weeks without a word. I’m thinking you’ve wound up in some psycho’s hands and you’re chopped up in a hundred pieces. Then you call and tell me to chill.”
“Keep being loud and I’ll hang up! I called because I wanted to chat.”
“Are you okay? Are you hurt? Do you need me to—”
“I’m fine. I just…I had to get out of town.”
Tasha makes a growly sound from her throat. “It’s that Sorrentino you got mixed up with! I told you the night Jerry disappeared—you do your job, get the cash, and you dip! Youdon’tdate the guy.”
“Sorta didn’t happen like that, but think what you want.”
“Look, not trying to sound judgmental. Did you know he came by the club looking for you?”
The hairs on the back of my neck rise. “He…he did?”
“And your neighbor, you know, Ms. Erickson? She says she saw him and some of his men at your place.”
I don’t say anything for a long moment. It’s not that I find it surprising Gio would look for me, but that even the topic of him brings back a flood of memories.FeelingsI’ve tried my damnedest to suppress. A deep craving that’s growing by the day.
No worse than in times like these. In the after hours of the night.
“You still there?” Tasha asks.
“Please tell me you didn’t tell him anything.”
“Of course not. It wasn’t a lie anyway. You haven’t told me shit.”
“Well…if he comes by again, make sure you don’t.”
“But, wait, what about you? When are you coming back?”
“I have to go, Tash. Thanks for keeping me company.”
Before she can protest, I hang up. Calling Tasha is a risk I can never take again.
In the silence, a soft thud echoes from down the hall. I don’t move right away, taking another second to make sure I heard the noise. When it sounds again, I flick on the hallway light and peer into the distance.
That’s another thing about starting a new life. You hear plenty of bumps in the night.
I go investigate, leaving the safety of my bedroom. The living room is empty, and so is the kitchen. The door is locked. The windows too. Nothing is out of place.
But my spirit is still unsettled. I return to my bedroom and lock that door as well. Worst-case scenario, I have a baseball bat I keep within reach of my bed.
As I slip under the covers, I’m wide awake. Ironically enough, I’m suffering from insomnia just like Gio. Once he’s on my mind, I can’t stop thinking about him. Lying in the dark, eyes on the ceiling, I wonder what he’s doing right now.
Does he miss me? Is he hurt I left him? Or is he unbelievably angry and bitter? Maybe all of the above.
If I ever see him again, there’ll be hell to pay. Consequences and punishments. And, yet, my craving only grows stronger. The need for him intensifies until it feels like it’ll consume me. A sense of helpless desperation floods through me as I know it’s impossible.
I’ll probably never see him again.
My core throbs in protest. It’s been weeks and the tension down below feels like a female case of blue balls. How do you go from constant mind-blowing sex to nothing at all? I haven’t even looked twice at another man since Gio and I’m an exotic dancer.
