I awoke to an empty bed. I thought somehow he would still be in the roo, but he wasn't. Not even a note was at the bedside. I didn't mind, however, I knew that I would see him again later today. Today. The final night of the gala. The night that Harrison was planning to kill Tom. I remembered the last night's conversation and closed my eyes, resting my face on my hands. How could I be so fucking idiotic? I just spent the last night of Tom's life getting fucked without one care for his mortality. All I had cared about on this trip was me and my fate, but I didn't think of him. What would happen to Jacob or Mark once Harrison was in control? What would happen to Tom's brothers, or Gilda?
Finally deciding to take myself out of my pity party, I looked up and saw the time. It was nearly noon, Tom had probably been gone four hours now. On his own. It was a stupid thought, to think that he was protected when I'm there when he literally has an army of men that would kill for him. But I also remembered that sometimes men weren't as loyal as you asked them to be.
I did my morning routine of brushing my hair and putting on my makeup. As much as I loved it when Gilda did it, I needed to do this one. I needed to know I can do something right, even if my eyeliner was still a little uneven, but I couldn't help it. My hands hadn't stopped shaking and I felt the tremors relocate to my legs. "Stop it!" I whispered harshly to myself. It didn't work, but I also wasn't going to fall down and cry for the fifth time. That was in the past. Now I had to think of something in order to keep Tom's head.
I only had two gowns left and those were for the evening, so I decided to follow my gut with clothes and wore what I usually did to work- a black pencil skirt and a nice shirt. One last time, I looked in the mirror and chuckled slightly when I saw how much I looked like a teacher. If I put my hands on my hips I'd look like I was about to put the whole gala in time-out. Seeing me dressed like this made me miss my kids. I missed teaching them, I missed talking to Lilah. I wanted to go hang out with Katy, but as I realized how much psychological torture she was probably under thanks to Tom, I doubted she would answer my calls. No matter how much I try, I could never go back to my old life. I could never just quit Tom cold turkey and go back to what I knew normally. I couldn't just go on another blind date without Tom lingering on the back of my mind. I could never just go a whole day without looking at my phone, not expecting a call. As much as I hated to admit it, the mafia was my life now.
There was a knock on my door and I left the bathroom to open it, desperately wanting anyone else to be behind it. As soon as I saw his dirty blonde hair, I tried to slam it closed, but he put his foot between the door and the frame. "Fuck!" he exclaimed, "I didn't think it would hurt that much." He gave a dry laugh but my face remained stoic. "I don't give a shit about your pain," I said flatly, "I'd do it again happily."
"I'm sure you would," Harrison rolled his eyes, "But I'm afraid you be dead within a second." He looked behind me and suddenly I saw a red laser out of the corner of my eye. My heart stopped and my breath hitched, fuck. "I suggest you let me in before I give him the signal," Harrison's once playful expression turned serious and I had no other option but to let him in.
"I'm a little jealous, Andi. This is much better than my room," He roamed around the room, looking out the window and gave a signal to the sniper. "Funny," I folded my arms across my chest, "I thought with all your riches from when you sold out Tom you could afford better." "Betrayal doesn't pay well," He replied snidely, "Just ask Judas." "At least you know what you're doing is bad," I muttered to myself quietly, but to my luck he picked it up.
Harrison turned around pulled his gun out, aiming it at me. It seemed that everyday I had a gun to my face so though I was used to the threat, this was different. Harrison was not my friend anymore. I guess he never was in the first place. "You're not so perfect yourself," he remarked, "You do all of Tom's dirty work. You're basically his slave." "Isn't that what you are for the other organization? A slave?" I stepped closer, putting the barrel right on my collarbone. I winced as I noticed that the metal was extremely hot; it had already been used today. I wondered who had just met their maker earlier and I prayed it wasn't Tom. " I mean while else would they hire you to kill Tom? If the position of newly crowned King of the Underworld was guaranteed to be yours, why wouldn't they hire someone in a position lower than yours to kill him, so that they wouldn't trace it to you? Why? Because you are the lowest position, Harrison. Being King's not guaranteed to you nor will it be."
Harrison took the gun from chest and hit me across the face with the butt of it. It wasn't enough to knock me out like last time, but it drew a lot of blood and the concoction of dull and sharp pain was too much for me. I was proud that I didn't let a tear loose though. I've been through too much to cry at physical pain now. "You speak to me like that, bitch, and you'll die before Tom. And I would take my time," he snarled as he began to storm out of the room. "I almost forgot," he stopped before he was fully out the door, "Tom wants you to meet him in the lobby. I suggest you clean yourself up." He winked before his closed the door, leaving me with a bloodied face and shirt.
I needed stitches, that was for sure. The cut was too deep for it to stop bleeding. "Shit," I muttered to myself as I kept with numerous failed attempts to clean it up. I had to go get medical help, but I couldn't figure out my options. The only way out of the building was the lobby where I had to meet Tom. I could call him and tell him a lie about how my dumbass nicked myself shaving, but with the bruise forming around my cheek, it was too obvious that it was a pistol whip.
I put a huge bandaid on my cheek, sighing as I watched it bleed through. Quickly, I threw a scarf and sunglasses on to hide my identity a little better and changed outfits in order look less fancy and more like a passerby. I picked the flip phone up and put it in my back pocket, knowing fully well that he was gonna call me. As discreetly as possible, I left my room and took the elevator, praying that this change in routine would throw any of them off.
The lobby was inundated with what seemed like the whole country of Austria. There were the people from the gala I recognized, but then there were tourists and natives around as well. In the center of it all was Tom and his men. My heart sank when I realized they were out there waiting for me, they'd probably be waiting for a while. I slipped past them and blended myself in with the group of people rushing out of the hotel before hailing a cab and telling him the location.
Not even five minutes later, the phone rang and I answered it. "I know you got my message, Reese," Tom said. It was refreshing to hear his voice. I closed my eyes and soaked it in, repeating the few words he said in my mind. "I'm sorry, but something important came up. Can I take a raincheck?" I lied and cringed. Something important? What kind of bullshit was that? As if he read my thoughts, he scoffed, "Important? Love, what could be more important than me? Be here in five minutes." His voice was hard, but I swear I had heard a tinge of desperation. However, since it was probably just my mind making shit up, I let the thought stay brief.
"No can do," I bit my lip, the last time I refused him my friend was nearly killed. What would happen now? "This is super important, Tom, okay? I'll be back in an hour or two, I promise. Love you," I hung up quickly before my words reached my mind and I froze. Love you repeated in my head on loop. Love you, love you, love you. What in the absolute fuck, Andi? "Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck," I kept muttering to myself and the taxi driver laughed a bit. "Slip of the tongue, eh?" he asked and I cringed and nodded. "He's gonna kill me," I groaned, literally and metaphorically. Surprisingly, he never called again.
The trip to the hospital seemed a lot quicker now that I had another issue to worry about. Everything just kept getting piled up- Harrison wanting to kill Tom, Tom wanting to kill me, and me saying, "Love you," to Tom. By now, I could barely feel my face and the blood that seeped through the bandage was now dripping from my face. Quickly, I rushed into the Emergency Room and demanded to get stitches on my face. Apparently my tone was scary enough to the service I needed and I was taken to a room.
The nurse gently took the bandage off my face, revealing the pistol whip. "Jesus Christ," she breathed, "This is horrible. Who did this to you?" Her eyes expressed concern and I felt horrible. I wanted to tell my whole life story to a stranger. I wanted to come clean about everything. "Oh, I was uh hiking and tripped, falling on a really sharp rock. Had to walk three miles all the way here." I was never much of a liar, but recently the fibs left my tongue almost on autopilot. I didn't know where I was coming up with these stories, but I was thankful that I was good at it.
I was at the hospital for another hour as I got the stitches. Once they were done, they informed me on aftercare and when to go get them taken out. I thanked them and paid my bill, rushing outside to get a taxi when I saw the familiar black sudan pull up. The window on the passenger rolled down and revealed Tom driving, his face unreadable. "Get in," he demanded and unwillingly I did as told.
The scarf hid my stitches now and I was immensely thankful for bringing it along. We drove in silence for the first few minutes. I saw the way he gripped the steering wheel, his knuckles were turning white. "I'm sorry," I whispered, "I didn't mean to-" "You're not pregnant, are you?" he didn't even look at me when he said it. I couldn't help but break into a smile, though it hurt like hell to. "Tom, it's been a day since we had sex, I doubt I would know by then," I shifted in my seat to make sure I was covering my face, "Besides, I'm on the depo shot. You're fine."
"Then why the fuck are you at the hospital?" he turned to me this time, "What was so fucking important that you had to leave me in the lobby?" I kept my eyes on my window and shrugged, "I can't tell you that, Tom." "Yes you can and you will. You're also going to look at me when I speak to you, Reese," he snapped, "I don't know what gave you the right to think you can disrespect me, but cut this bullshit."
I looked into his eyes briefly and returned to the window. "See? I looked at you. Now, let's drop the subject." Tom, however pulled off the highway and to a parking lot. The parking lot didn't belong to anything, it was strange, but fitting. He stopped the car and grabbed my jaw. It was a gentle touch, but hurt nevertheless. He turned my face to his and took my scarf off. His eyes landed on the stitches and his face dropped. His thumb stroked the bruised flesh under it and then his eyes averted to mine. "Who did this?" he was voice was low and quiet.
As much as I wanted to react to his touch, I pulled his hand from my face and gave a pathetic smile. "Nobody, Tom," I lied once again, "It was all me." "Bullshit!" Tom shouted and I jumped slightly. "I'm telling the fucking truth, Tom. I was about to meet you in the lobby when I slipped on some water and fell on the counter. It's nothing, really." "If it's nothing, why are you hiding it?" Tom cocked his head and I inhaled sharply. Shit, I said to myself.
My mind roamed for more lies. It hadn't failed me yet, so I was depending on whatever my tongue could roll off. "I uh I didn't want you to be concerned," I shrugged, "You have bigger things on your plate right now than my clumsiness."
He kept his eyes on mine for the longest time. Instead of threatening, it felt warm. I felt at home in his eyes. My mind roamed back on the phone call from earlier. I wondered if he had reacted as badly to it as I did or did he disregard it in a moment of anger? "You're absolutely right," he said, starting the car, "I do have bigger things on my plate, like killing my best friend for example."
"What?" my surprise was genuine. How did he know? What did he know? He dug into his pocket and pulled something out, it was small and black. When I got a closer look at it, I realized it was a mic. "I guess you could say I have good foresight," he said, "I put a mic on each of your gowns, Reese. I figured if you couldn't get something from the Vicomte or Gregory, this would pick something else up." "I-," I was dumbfounded and elated. He knew about Harrison. He knew about everything.
"How long have you known?" I whispered. My mind was racing. Did he know the moment Harrison pulled me from the gala? Did that mean he used my emotional instability for sexual gain? Did he send Harrison up to the room on purpose? I couldn't figure out how to react, so I sat in silence, trying to make myself disappear.
"When you fell asleep," he mentioned, "I couldn't help but be disurbed by your state, so I got up and took the mic from the gala dress and listened to it. I know what you're thinking, Reese. Last night's actions weren't some masterfully thought plan. It was just me seeing you in distress, trying to make you feel better." So us having sex was out of pity? I couldn't win, could I?
"After that, I realized I can't trust too closely, not even the woman in my bed. I sent him to get you because I wanted to hear what you would say to him. Might I say, I'm proud and disappointed," he said. I put my head down, shaking my head as I did so. "You're loyal, Reese. I never expected it from you. I expected you to run away or off yourself every time I called. But you're here. You've refused me, but you never ran." I felt the familiar feeling of a sob rise to my throat. Not now, I told myself, you will not cry.
"You're deadly smart as well. You're able to weave your way into conversations without being caught. You're emotional, but when it comes to business you're stoic. You lie like no other and know when to. You're analytical. The way you broke Harrison down nearly turned me on, it was utterly gorgeous. You were made for crime, Reese," he then turned left at a light, but the hotel was on the right.
"Where-," I pointed at the hotel, but once again I was cut off. "But I'm disappointed in you, Reese. I'm disappointed in the conversations you have with yourself. You talk to yourself a lot, might I say. It's interesting, but tragic. I'm disappointed that you said nothing to me about getting pistol whipped. I'm disappointed that you used your lying talents on me. But most of all, I'm disappointed that you hung up before I could say something as well."
My head shot up, watching as he spoke. "You shouldn't have told me that, Reese, you really shouldn't have,"he shook his head as he pulled into the empty airport. "I need you to go back to America. Your job is finished," he parked the car in front of the jet I was in a couple days prior. I gave Tom a baffled look, "What do you mean? Did I not give you the right information?" "You were perfect, Reese. So fucking perfect," he stroked my face, this time I leant into his touch, "But I can't have you here. I can't have you hurt again. You'll be safe back home. You can even stay at headquarters if you like, as long as you're not here," he was practically begging now.
My gaze averted from the plane to him. I could be away from this life for good. He was giving me that option, I never thought it was possible. My family and loved ones would be out of danger. I could have my life back. But as I looked at him, I realized my disdain for that life. I didn't want to be berated by Austin for working in a career I was not fond of. I didn't want to go on anymore dates with bland guys. I didn't want to teach kindergarten anymore. I finally realized I belonged with the organization, that I was good at what I did for Tom. I wanted this life, I wanted him.
"No," I said. "Not this time, Reese," he opened the door for me, "You're not refusing me this time." "No, I am. There's only one night left. What's the worst that could happen to me?" "You could fucking die, Andi! For all I know Harrison's going to fucking gut you in front of me. You could be collateral damage and I don't want that," he shouted, this time I didn't jump. He had called me Andi, and not Reese. Weirdly, it hurt more when he did so. I loved it when he called me Reese, and now he took that away.
"You could die too, Tom! I'm the only one that can work with you on this! We can do something, anything to stop this! You're not doing this alone," my voice matched his, but there was more desperation in it. I didn't want to go home. I didn't want to go alone. I wanted to be with him, to sleep in his bed, to breathe him in, to kiss him once more.
The door was still open, but I shut it quickly. I turned away from him and sat still. "I'm not leaving you," my voice broke and I lifted my nose in the air, trying to not let the tears come. "I'm not going." Silence. None of us said a word. Every now and then I sniffled quietly and wiped an oncoming tear from my eye, but I said no word.
I felt a hand on my jaw and my face turned to meet his. He then leaned in and kissed me softly. His lips were soft and warm, I didn't want them to leave mine. I didn't want him to leave me. He pulled away and shook his head, starting the car and pulling out of the airport. "You have no idea what you do to me, Reese," he spoke softly, "I wish I never met you."
Don't forget to vote, comment, that good stuff.
~Not edited~