Page 75 of Drowned in Gold


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A smile forms on my lips. “Oh thank God.”

That twisted smile of his returns. “Don’t thank him yet. I expect a pretty big fuck up any day now.”

“Marco. Stop.” I get to my feet.

“Someone’s got to warn you.” He struts over to his front door, opens it, and slaps his leg. “C’mon, pup. Hah, feels good to reverse the roles.”

Castor steps in and shoves Marco playfully. “We’re all settled then? You warned your sister how terrible I am, and now?”

“Something like that.” Marco licks his teeth. “Now what kind of host would I be if we didn’t toast such a budding relationship. Wine?”

“You’re a sick fuck.” Castor plops on the couch and drags me back down with him. “I’ll take a scotch.”

xxx

Later that night, Castor dropped me off at my apartment, leaving to meet up with Big Ace. Honestly, I hoped he’d stay over and rest up given our crazy night, but business calls… I guess.

Marco’s voice replays in my head, about how Castor is a terrible man. I mean yeah, duh, he kills people in some pretty gruesome ways, but I kind of believe I’m his saving grace.

Am I being a starry-eyed imbecile? It wouldn’t be the first time I screwed up with a boy – as my jerk of a brother pointed out – but Castor, he seems different.

I turn on the TV and scroll through my streaming services to find a Friends rerun that will put my mind at ease. Yeah, the one where Chandler rekindles with Janice. That works. I smile as the opening music plays and dip my brush to try a landscape for the first time in forever.

As I’m brushing out a stream in a valley of mountains, I giggle thinking about how Castor called me Bob Ross with titties one night. He makes me laugh often. Though… maybe that’s a charm he uses with all his women? Marco has a point; he knows Castor best. I could be one of many. He could have a whole other family for all I know.

C’mon, Gia, you’re being an idiot. He’s crazy about you.

I wrinkle my nose in embarrassment. Why am I letting my crazy ass brother get into my head? He rammed his car into ours.

Maybe he’s seen things that he’s not telling me outright. That’s probably why he asked about our timeline, and shortly after, told me a bullet is coming.

Shit!

My heart starts racing as my painting grows more erratic. What the heck is he doing at parties with his crew? Maybe he’s bidding on women for a nice night out. Men like him always have sidepieces.

One look down at my wrist calms me slightly. The diamonds sparkle whenever I dip my brush – that bracelet is gorgeous. I think of him standing over the jeweler as he molds the ‘C&G’ into a clasp. Such care and craftsmanship. Of course. He’s a capo. And he loves me.

A million thoughts scroll through my head – maybe I should invite Stacey over for some laughs to calm my nerves, or maybe I should go to the damn doctor and get tested. My brow furrows with concern. I fuck him raw every time.

And with that trail of thoughts, I start getting horny all over again. Look, when you hit a dry spell like I have – and I don’t mean from lack of sex, but rather from being dry because the men are so damn boring – then a man like Castor can turn someone like me into a nymph.

Despite how his face was bloodied and bruised, he was hard as a rock just from looking at me.

By the time I’m done dealing with the whirlwind in my head, I finally look at what my hand has been doing. The landscape is dark with thunderous clouds. The stream between the valley looks like a wet vagina, and there’s blood rolling down a mountaintop. I’m like a corrupted carny. Jesus.

I crumple the work and throw it in the growing pile of bads.

After a scoff, I pick up my phone and dial Stacey. Her shift should be ending any minute now.

“Yeah, babe?” Stacey says – I hear bustling plates and kitchen staff in the background.

“Want some wine at my place?” I say.

“Ugh, yes! You would not believe the A-holes in the building tonight. Is it us, or is it the restaurant that attracts these tools?”

“Probably a bit of both,” I chuckle. “Come on by.”

It takes her about twenty minutes to wrap up her shift and drive on over to my place. I greet her with a loving hug. We’ve grown closer since skipping town together, and I feel like I owe her a great debt, because, well, I do.

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