No Strings Attached

Chapter Twenty-Three

"I won't be satisfied. Far from it, but I'll understand."

I swallow, both relieved and troubled to hear that.

"It's just, we barely know each other. We met a few weeks ago... our relationship, arrangement, whatever we can call it, is supposed to make us forget our pasts. It's supposed to be a safe ground."

"Mmm."

"I feel like if I tell you, I won't be able to keep control of what we have going on here."

"You never told anyone before?"

I shake my head. "Norman knows the most. Dixon knew relatively nothing. You know more than any of them."

He stands up, running his hand over his face. "Do you actually think we have any control of what's going on here?"

By the time I've looked up, he's walking away, not waiting for my reply.

"I'll be out here if you want to come out."

***

I crack open the bedroom door slowly, my chest pounding as I look into the darkness for Giovanni. It's nearly midnight. I tried to sleep in the other room but couldn't stay still.

I see him lying on his back, sound asleep, his chest rising and falling calmly.

I think about whispering his name, asking if I can come in. Instead, I tiptoe inside, seeing one of Giovanni's dress shirts lying against a seat by the window. I slip out of the uncomfortable clothes I bought earlier today and slip my arms into his shirt, buttoning it up. It'll have to do since everything else I own is in the hotel. I lift the covers on the other side of the bed, immediately hit by the intimacy of what I'm doing as I crawl under the sheet, turning onto my side.

I finally take a deep breath once I'm still, hoping I didn't wake him. Frankly, I'm embarrassed for even doing this.

I close my eyes, hugging the pillow tightly.

Sleep, Scarlett. Go to sleep.

Don't think of them...

Don't...

"Ted, please, don't do this in front of Scarlett. She's only six! She doesn't know better!"

Daddy is standing in the middle of the living room, standing too close to Mom. "She's destroying the fucking house, Gail!"

"There a few toys... that's hardly—"

My body molds into the couch in fear as I hear her choked gasp as his hand reaches out, capturing her fragile neck.

"Mommy!" I scream. "Mommy!"

"Shut up!" he shouts to me as she chokes. I cry, scared to see Daddy this way. "You shut up!"

"Ted—" Mommy's hands are trying to pry his off.

"Stop!" I'm so scared. Mommy is crying.

"You always have a goddamn excuse," Daddy snarls to her. "You are raising our kid to be a fucking slob."

"Daddy! No!" I cry. I want him to stop. I want—

I jump off the couch, running for his legs. I grasp onto his brown slacks, pulling. I pull, and I pull, but he doesn't budge.

He lets her go and turns, slamming his hand back.

I scream when I hit the floor. Daddy hit me. I see Mommy kick him now, getting out of his grip as he looks at me, his eyes wide. She's shouting. I can't understand her. I try to get up.

"Go to the room, baby! Go to the—"

"Look what you made me do!" he bellows. I'm scared. I crawl behind the couch, curling my knees up to my chin. My head hurts.

"Ted, please. You've had too much. You just hit Scarlett! Please!"

I hear a bang and press my hands to my ears as Mommy begins to cry again. I still hear him yelling. My hands can't block that out.

"I do everything for you! I work all damn day! I expect to come home to a clean house! I expect you to teach—"

"Ted, stop! Stop!" She's crying so bad. So am I.

I want to run away. I want to go to Mommy.

I'm scared.

I'm so scared.

"Scarlett!"

My eyes open wide, releasing the scalding tears trapped beneath my eyelids as I sit up in a rush, gasping for air, suffocating.

I'm in Giovanni's room. It's dark. It's quiet.

I look to my side, finding Giovanni propped on his elbow, staring at me in worry.

Oh, thank god. I'm here.

I'm not there.

I'm safe. I'm...

He rests a hand against my back, sitting up slowly. "Scarlett, you were dreaming..."

I stare at him, for once letting myself feel the full picture. Giovanni lying beside me in bed, wanting nothing more than to help, to make me happy. My pulse is racing with fear, but my heart is fucking full. And for once, I don't fight it. I don't fight knowing how much he's come to mean to me.

"Giovanni," I breathe softly.

His eyes observe my face worriedly. "What?"

I don't know what to say. Nothing comes to mind.

I lean over, gasping before my mouth crushes over his.

After just a few moments of processing my desperation, he responds in kind to my urgency, clasping the back of my neck, pulling me closer. I'm still trembling from the memories, but I'm more determined to be close to him. Within seconds, I'm moving over his legs.

His fingers work on the buttons of the shirt I'm in as I push my underwear to the side, sinking onto him. No foreplay. No wasting time.

I need him.

He pulls both sides of my shirt open with a surprised sigh as I move against him, my tears wet against my cheeks. Consumed by the emotions coursing through me, I find it hard to breathe. He sits up immediately, face-to-face, clasping onto me tighter, one hand in my hair, the other flattening against my back beneath the dress shirt.

Tenderly, I hold his face, pressing my cheek to his own.

"Giovanni," I whisper, my voice thick with tears, tears that tell a story. My story.

"It's okay," he whispers back, kissing my skin softly, gently. "I'm here."