No Rest for the Wicked/No Remorse
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"Thus saith the Lord God; Because that Edom hath dealt against the house of Judah by taking Vengeance, and hath greatly offended, and revenged himself upon them."
Ezekiel (25:12)
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From how much Vincent was yelling at me about everything, I didn't expect him to take such a kind tone with me. Well, more concerning than kind. He rubbed my back a few times before he pulled back and sternly gripped my shoulders. He took a long look at my face as if he was searching for something. He brought his eyes down to check over my body, analyzing carefully. It felt like he would remove my top just so he could hold it up to his face, and finely see the fibers of my shirt.
"Alexis," he whispered, "Are you okay, doll?" he asked, slowly and in English. I nodded as I looked at him but he only shook his head. "Tell me. Come here," he sighed.
He pulled me back into his embrace. He sighed as he swayed with me in his arms. I put my arms back around him. Put my face against him. Breathed in his cologne. Closed my eyes and recalled my actions. Held back my satisfaction but let it bake internally.
"Vincent," I called. He pulled back but kept his hands on my hips/lower back. I knew he knew. I just knew that he did. "I did it," I whispered.
Vincent nodded. "I know," he confirmed. "I know, bella," he repeated in his native language. "I want you to sit," he murmured. "I'll make you something to eat. Just sit. Water," he said as he started to walk into the kitchen, taking me with him. He pulled out a stool for me and I sat down. He turned to grab a glass to fill with water. I set my purse on the island counter and carefully removed my gun. Oddly, my hands were shaking. I wasn't sure why. A glass of water was set in front of me. "Drink that," Vincent suggested. "I'll make you something to eat. Just drink in time," he mumbled the last sentence.
I didn't respond but I did as he said. I like water. As I drank, I watched as Vincent silently cooked. He didn't ask for any help and I never commented on where to find things when I knew he was looking. He eventually found everything he was looking for. Even as Vincent grabbed dishes, no words were shared. It wasn't until I swallowed my first bite of the pasta that Vincent made that he spoke.
"You lied to me," he stated. I glanced to the side of me which he was sitting.
I raised one of my eyebrows. "No," I denied. "No, I didn't. I told you I was getting my nails done. I did," I confirmed and showed him my hand. "You knew this is what I wanted to do," I stated as I put my hand back and continued to eat.
"It's not safe for you. You knew," he countered. "I told you no."
"And I told you that you don't tell me what to do," I snipped. "There's no going back now
(~)
I've already done it. What's done is done," I said.
Vincent sighed but didn't reply. It was silent for the rest of dinner. I offered to do the dishes but Vincent simply shook his head. As I refilled my glass of water, the front door opened and closed, bells chiming. I turned. Freddie was walking in, steps quick. He made eye contact with me. A mix of anger and stress.
"Alex!" he called as he came into the kitchen. I stared at him, confused, only slightly. "What the fuck are you on?" he demanded. "Do you have any clue what the fuck you just caused?" Don't answer the question, he's going to— "No! You fucking don't. Little Italy has been tied to the fuckin mob for years and when it's finally noted as "cooled-down" since it's the twenty-first century and mobs aren't as popular, you go and fucking create a scene. We had a good fucking thing— people assuming the mafia was over, that the crime rate was high for reasons not related to us and you do this!
"Why? Dammit! You had no right to get involved in any of this. Everyone told you countless amounts of times that we were taking care of everything, not you! We told—"
I cut off his rant. "If you were taking care of it why wasn't Johnny dead by now?" I quizzed. "Maybe because you all aren't. Just as I told Vincent— what's done is done. That won't be the last time— I hope you know. No amount of rants is going to change that."
Freddie rolled his eyes and sighed, aggravated. "You're fucking insufferable. I hope you know that." I hummed "mh-mmm." It only pissed him off more. "Get the fuck out of my face before I say things Imma regret," he muttered as he rubbed his face.
I rolled my eyes. "You have your own apartment. You can leave any time you want. I'm going to bed."
"Of course," he remarked. "Not even gonna clean the gun." He shook his head. "Don't worry. I'll do that," he sarcastically said but still picked up my gun.
"Thanks," I mumbled and grabbed my glass of water to take upstairs with me. "Vincent, are you coming up?" I asked him and turned around so I could see him.
"Si," he agreed. "Give me a second."
I nodded and then left. When I got to my room, I set my water down on my nightstand. I rubbed my face for a moment before I turned and walked to my bathroom. Without taking my phone for music, I closed the door. I stripped, pulled up my hair, and stepped into the shower. Unlike the showers when my dad was killed, I saw no blood on my hands. Rather, it was as if the water was baptizing me. After all, I felt as if I was God.
I got out of the shower after I washed off the body wash and face wash. I did my skincare routine and got dressed. By the time I made my way to my bed, my lights dimmed as usual with my Chinese Lanterns on and one candle burning, someone had knocked on my bed. I allowed him in, knowing it was Vincent without needing to see his face.
My lips turned into one of those polite-closed-mouth smiles that are awkwardly given to people on the streets. "Hey," I greeted as I pulled back my bed sheets. "You can take a shower if you want," I said although I was starting to feel as if I didn't need to. He's been in my room plenty of times. He should know he was allowed to use my bedroom freely. He knew what was off-limits. I mean, he had his bags in my room, which I fully allowed. I felt horrendous about what happened between him and Donna. He didn't deserve any of that, in my opinion.
Vincent nodded. "Si, bella," he said and then paused. He went to say something but stopped and pressed his lips together. He broke eye contact with me and glanced to his left. "I'll go shower," he said after a moment. I nodded as he went away into the bathroom.
I grabbed my phone and crawled into bed. Kyle texted me. He's such a sweet boy. He asked me how therapy was and about my day. I kept my answers simple. Didn't go, work and I got my nails done, red. All simple. I felt that if I went into detail, it could bite me in the ass. It could lead to me going to jail. Not that I care too much about that but I kinda did. A large part of me, on quiet nights that I laid in bed, wanted a child. Multiple. Children. I wish I never miscarried [HAD a miscarriage, for Kyle's sake]. I wanted a daughter. I wanted a son. I wanted a kid. So fucking badly.
You'd never be a good mother.
Tonight was one of those quiet nights. I was in my head. My phone was put away. The only sound was the little (and big) voices in my head. Fuck— I really wanted a baby. I knew if I got caught for doing what I did, I'd go away for a long time. A long time. Time that couldn't be
(~)
replaced. Time that precious. Time, of which I had more with my dad.
I closed my eyes when they started to burn. I sighed, chanting to myself to keep it together. Longing was hammering in my chest. I hope my dad saw what went down tonight. I hope he's happy. I hope he feels justified.
The bathroom door opened and a brief stream of light came out of the bathroom. Half of Vincent's body was illuminated but the light went away when Vincent clicked it off. He wasn't wearing a shirt, just boxers.
Longing intensified. I sat up in bed. The orange hue of my room, the events of today, the thoughts in my mind. Just say all of it. Say whatever. I don't care.
My hair fell in my face not enough to obstruct my vision but enough that it covered my ears, leading me to tuck my hair behind them. I peered at Vincent and unknowingly (as I felt that I was blinking) batted my eyes at him. I called his name when he came closer. I moved and sat on my knees. I shuffled over towards the edge of the bed and when he was close enough, I placed my hands on his shoulders. Leaned closer to him. Glanced into his eyes. Place my lips on his. Slipped my hand back until they met. Held onto him.
His hands moved and held my hips and I stood on my knees to kiss him. I made sure to level with him. We were close in height, with him being about four inches taller than me, give or take. (Kyle's my height. Conor was taller than me— can't think about Conor, makes me think about our daughter).
Vincent tried to move his lips from mine. "Alexis," he whispered, trying to break the kiss. I got frustrated with trying to keep it and let him pull back to say what he wanted to say. He stared at me for a moment.
"Stop pulling away," I mumbled. A faint smile pulled on his lips and I met it. As I rhythmically moved against his lips, I leaned back and took him with me until my back met my mattress and his chest met mine.
My hands ran down his back, feeling his smooth skin while pressing him more against me. I moaned against his lips as my legs wrapped around his waist. Using my weight, I flipped us over and brushed my hair to one side. I brought my hand in between our bodies, running my hand down his chest and to the waist of his boxers. Before I attempted to remove them, I sat up. Vincent did as well but at a forty-five-degree angle, his body propped up on his elbows and forearms.
I fisted the hem of my shirt and pulled it over my body. I felt Vincent shift under me. Hands grabbed my waist as I pulled it off my head, giving myself back my vision. I dropped the shirt on the floor. As I took off my shirt, Vincent sat up as I was. His brows were together. Our chests were close together.
"Alexis," he called. "Has Willallowedw you to do this? You were in the hospital not long ago," he softly and carefully brought up.
"I feel fine," I brushed off. I wasn't supposed to have sex yet. Evil Head Doctor, Evil angry Nurses, and Angel Dr. Williams drilled it into me that after the Evil D&C I'd have to wait two weeks, at least, to insert anything up "there". Anything including dick. Of course, they did later address sex in a way that was more mature and basically said I'd have to wait two weeks if I felt like having sex after. It hadn't been two weeks. Not yet. Almost but not yet.
I leaned into his lips but he avoided my kiss, grabbed my arms. I sighed and rolled my eyes. He was literally turned on. No clue why he was so difficult. "I'll tell you if I'm in any pain, obviously. Jesus Christ," I huffed but he still avoided my kiss.
"I don't want to hurt you, Lex," he gently confessed.
"You won't," I denied and rubbed his shoulders. So soft. I love his skin. Wanted to kiss. Wanted to hold. "I'll tell you if you. Okay?" I said. He sighed and glanced down. Wasn't sure if it was his intention to look at my breasts but that's where his eyes landed. He swallowed and glanced to his right. I brought my hand to run through his hair as I called his name. He hummed but didn't look at me. I dipped my head and kissed his soft shoulders. I love his manly skin. So beautiful. So tan. So Italian. I kissed up his neck. Along his jawline. Noticed how his breathing got heavy. How he grabbed my body.
"Vincent," I called again. I peered up at him.
He closed his eyes and sighed. Without opening his eyes he asked, "You'll tell me if I hurt you? Promise me?"
"Yes, Vincent. I always do," I said, referencing when I first shared my body with a man, that man being Vincent.
"Last time you promised me something, you lied," he confronted. "You said you were just getting your nails colored."
I shook my head. "No. I didn't lie. I just didn't tell you the whole story because I knew you wouldn't support me," I said as I kissed back down to his shoulder.
Vincent ran his hand up my back. "I always support you, Alexis. Might not like it at the time but I always support you. You know this," he whispered the last part. "I love you," he murmured but I still heard him. "You do a lot of shit I don't like, doesn't mean I don't support you. I always will, no matter what," he shared.
I kept my lips against his skin for a moment. Not kissing, just taking in his words. Appreciating him. Wanting to tell him I love him too but the words wouldn't leave my lips. Instead, I brought my lips to his.
As our kissing progressed so did our touching. Both of our bottoms. We were both sitting up when I moved my hips so I was aligned with his tips. My hands were on his shoulders. One of his arms wrapped around my back and held my waist. The other was up my back, playing with my hair.
Our lips stayed together and I sat down. He wasn't wearing a condom. Vincent was a good size. Not unnaturally large as some smutty books depicted them but not incredibly tiny as social media joked. But he was a good size and I enjoyed it. When he took my virginity, there was pain. Didn't last the whole time but there was some. I knew I was supposed to wait two weeks (at least) to have sex but one— that was in two days and two— the bleeding had stopped (for the most part). But as I lowered my body, an uncomfortable tearing-feeling spread. Uncontrolled, a whimper left my lips as my fake nails awkwardly dug into Vincent's shoulders since I clutched him.
"Fuck," I gasped against his lips. "Ugh— Vincent," I mumbled.
He pulled my hips up, held me against him. He cursed. "It hurts?" he asked. I sat back down but made no attempt to have sex again. Well, start it again. We didn't get far. "Cazzo," he cursed as he moved. "Are you okay?"
I knew I wasn't. Fuck. I should've listened to myself and Vincent. I didn't think it hurt that much. Sure, Dr. Williams and Evil Medical Staff said it could be uncomfortable and increase the risk of infection but it hurt so much. It felt as if I tore my vagina.
"No," I mumbled. "Jesus," I whispered as I looked between my legs, making sure I wasn't bleeding. I hadn't shaved in a while. Not in so long that it was uncharted jungles of the land of Bush People but, you know— a while.
Virgin Alexis and Newly Unvirginized Alexis would never allow a man to see that.
Well, I thought, what hasn't Vincent seen before? And what he hasn't seen, he was here for the aftermath.
He apologized. Twice. "What can I do?" he asked. "Lay down, if that helps. I'll get you something to drink. Water," he said as he got out of bed and pulled up his boxers.
I wanted to snip and complain, I wasn't disabled, no need to treat me as if I was. I was just dealing with some vaginal pain. But I realized that he was caring. Caring for me. Being there for me. He wasn't required to.
I shook my head. "You don't have to, Vincent," I gently said as I grabbed my blanket to cover my body. "But thank you," I added because there is no sense in thinking it but not saying it. Thoughts didn't amount to what words did.
"I'll get you water," he said. I held out my hand. With an eyebrow raised, he took it. I pulled him close enough to me so I could peck his lips. I thanked him again. He kissed my forehead before he pulled away. "I'll be back, doll."
When Vincent came back, I had already gotten dressed again and texted Dr. Williams a brief description (providing only necessary events) in case something happened. I drank some water, blew out the candle. Vincent turned off my Lanterns for me. I waited in bed for him and slept in his arms.