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Editing: Nia Quinn
“Living at risk is jumping off the cliff and building your wings on the way down.”
Ray Bradbury
CHAPTER ONE
He’s not coming.
My one-night stand, who turned into consecutive Friday nights and then into every night over the course of a few blissful weeks. It was hardly the beginning of a meaningful relationship. People talk in healthy relationships. He said hello and goodbye, and in between, fucked me six ways to Sunday. His touch was addictive. He was addictive.
His late-night visits became less frequent until they stopped entirely.
Three weeks now.
It’s over.
I curl a tea bag around a spoon. It’s two in the morning, a bad time for a caffeine fix. Except, I can’t sleep, so what does it matter?
I don’t deal well with goodbyes, especially goodbyes murmured alone in the dark. Goodbye, Mom—another cancer victim. Goodbye, Father—a victim of his shiny young Barbie, his fucked-up girlfriend, who took his life before turning the gun on herself.
Goodbye Marietta, Ohio, and to the painful reminders of my loss.
With a press of my thumb, I force the amber liquid from the teabag, the squeeze of my digit mirroring the familiar grip on my heart. I place the spoon and bag aside and raise the cup, the tea too hot to sip. It scalds my tongue, yet I welcome the burn, the reminder that even something outwardly innocent like tea can still hurt you.
He wasn’t innocent … far from it.
I didn’t care to know his name at first. He was a one-night stand, a distraction from the darkness. But as events progressed—we progressed—I did ask for it. His light squeeze of fingers against my throat silenced me. I trembled beneath his touch, terrified, confused, and slightly aroused. His pupils deepened to the deepest black. So wicked. So hypnotic. “Feel that Riley?” He pinned me to a wall, placed my hand on his racing heart, and spoke to the darkest region of my soul. “Submit, and I’ll show you how to put all your broken pieces together again.”
My eyes grew wide. He understood, his next words proving it.
“Sometimes you need to be broken to truly be free.” He unbuckled his trousers, took out his cock, and shoved into me. Taking me against the wall, his rock-hard erection lifting me off my toes with each powerful thrust.
I submitted to his will, and never felt more alive.
And now he’s gone.
My hand shakes, and tea sloshes across my T-shirt and kitchen floor. “Damn it,” I mutter, setting everything on the counter before tearing off the shirt so I can rinse it in the sink. Once finished, I grab a towel, get onto my knees, and wipe up the mess, blindly making wide swooping arcs to reach liquid I can’t see while I work.
Why is it so dark in here?
My Brooklyn apartment is a fourth-floor walkup. Big windows bookend the railroad-style layout, plenty of natural light filtering in. The kitchen and small functional bathroom sit on one end, the living area square in the middle, and my bedroom on the other side. My best friend’s boyfriend is renovating the building so with the other apartments vacant, it’s quiet at night.
But safe. Ciro set up a high-tech touchscreen keypad at the main entrance. And, within the past month, security cameras have been installed literally everywhere. Ciro’s always worried “the crazy Italian goombahs”—who he employs under the table—are stealing from him.
Ciro owns C&C Enterprises, a Brooklyn-based construction company that recently won a lucrative contract to build a new casino on the East River. “Money coming in like you wouldn’t believe,” he bragged, during one of his first visits to Marietta. He needed a secretary with strong organizational skills. It was the perfect opportunity to escape.
My grandparents discouraged me. They distrusted Ciro. Too ambitious. Too loud. Trouble written all over him. I didn’t disagree. But I could no longer breathe in Marietta.
My best friend, Kelly, was my roommate for a week before she moved in with Ciro. I was too surprised to protest and focused on settling into this New York City apartment and on my new job at C&C Enterprises.
A week later, I met him.
Coincidence? Fate? Ciro insisted C&C Enterprises’ employees attend an event celebrating breaking ground on Riverview Casino, being held at an exclusive club near the East River. I was alone at the bar when my handsome stranger approached me and within thirty minutes and with one bold moment, I invited him back to my apartment.
It’s over.
I toss the towel into the sink and sit back on my haunches. “Why does this hurt so much?”
