* sexual harassment, mention of rape*
§
I woke up the next morning, squinting against the sunlight that was coming in through Tom's glass door. I turned to face Tom so I could cuddle back up against him, but he wasn't there. I frowned and pushed myself out of bed. My legs shook a little, so I gripped the bedpost to balance myself and rolled my eyes. Had it really been that long since I'd been fucked that well? So long that my legs couldn't handle standing up the next day? Ridiculous.
Once I knew I was fine, stretched my arms over my head and tossed my hair up into a ponytail. The boxers of Tom's that I was wearing felt like short-shorts, and his t-shirt fit me just like one of my own would, so I left his room, not really worried about looking inappropriate if I ran into Harrison or Harry or Sam. At this point, I knew them well enough that I didn't give a shit about what they thought of me.
I headed downstairs, assuming Tom was making coffee or breakfast for himself. It was about 10:00, so it only made sense that he was up and ready. He was much more of a morning person than I was. I was confused when I didn't smell coffee or hear anyone awake. So where was Tom? The next place I thought to look was down in the gym. As I neared the basement stairs, I heard voices, so I figured Tom was working out with one of the boys. But, as I headed further down, I didn't hear fighting noises. By the time I reached the bottom, I saw a large conference table set up with Tom sitting at the head and smoking a cigar. Harrison was to his right, Harry to his left. To the left of Harry was Sam, but there was no one else I recognized. There were only six other guys there. They all turned to look at me when I walked in, and I quickly regretted the outfit I had once been completely okay with wearing. I tugged at the hem of Tom's shirt and pressed my lips into a tight line. "S-sorry," I said. My feet were frozen to the spot.
"S'alright, darling," Tom said with a gentle smile, tapping the cigar over his ashtray. "I'll be up in just a minute." I nodded and forced myself to turn around and hurry back up the stairs. My cheeks burnt in embarrassment. I went straight to my room to tug on some sweatpants and put a bra on under Tom's t-shirt. Once I deemed myself more presentable, I went out into the kitchen to make a pot of coffee. I waited for it to brew, and reached up into the cabinets to get a mug.
I almost dropped the mug when I jumped as a pair of hands landed on my waist. I didn't even need to turn to know that it wasn't Tom. "Boss didn't tell us he picked up a prossie last night," he said, his breath tickling my ear. I tried to wiggle out of his grasp, but he just gripped his hands tighter. He pressed his frontside into my backside, making me increasingly uncomfortable. "Aw, don't be like that, darling."
"Don't call me that," I snapped.
"Hm, can only the boss call you that?" he asked, his nose brushing against the back of my neck.
"Can you just leave me alone?" I asked, still trying to move away from him.
"You've got quite the attitude," he said with an audible grin. "I'm gonna have to figure out where he found you. How much does it cost for a go with you, huh? Couple bucks? That's what the Americans call it, right? A buck or two?"
"Go to hell," I muttered. He laughed again, then moved his hands to squeeze my ass before he stepped away.
"Yeah," he said, "I like you." I finally turned to face him and memorized everything about him- strong cheekbones, intense eyes, hair buzzed on the sides but full on top, and a thin beard. He looked like he was a few years older than me. Without another word, he turned and walked to the front door. I heard it open and close and finally allowed myself to relax.
What the fuck was that?
Only a few minutes after creepy guy left, the rest of the guys who were downstairs came up and left. None of them stopped to talk to me, which I appreciated. This time, when a pair of arms wrapped around my waist, I melted into them and smiled. Tom nuzzled his face against my neck. I could feel him smile. "Good morning," he mumbled.
"G'morning," I said back. I was still standing in the kitchen, this time making some toast. When I finished spreading peanut butter on it, I turned to face Tom. He trapped me between himself and the counter, and I just grinned. "What's up?" I asked.
"C'mon," he said, pushing himself away from me. "Let's go upstairs." I nodded and took a bite of my toast before following him upstairs. When we got to the top of the stairs, April walked out of Harrison's room. She sent me a wide eyed look before I just turned and walked into Tom's room. He closed the door behind us, and I walked over to the balcony. I sat criss cross applesauce on the daybed, and Tom quickly joined me. He sat behind me, spreading his legs so I was between them. I leaned onto his chest and took another bite of my toast. Tom sniffed and wiped his nose with the back of his hand.
"We need to talk about what happened last night," he said. I turned my head to look at him, feeling like my heart dropped to my stomach. This was it. This was where he told me last night meant nothing and he wanted me to stay away from him again. This was where everything fell apart. I turned to face him and finished the rest of my toast. If he was going to turn me down, I wanted him to do it to my face.
Tom sighed and stroked my cheek. I leaned into his touch. "It's dangerous, (Y/N)," he said. "I won't lie to you."
"What do you mean?" I asked, tilting my head to the side.
"The right thing for you to do would be to stay away from me," he said. "To leave as soon as this all goes away."
"Do you-" I took a deep breath. "Are you upset that we did what we did?"
"No," Tom said, shaking his head. "No. Not at all, petal." He put his hand on my cheek, and I hadn't even realized I wasn't looking at him until he tilted my head up.
"All I'm saying," he said, "is that I want you to know what being with me entails. Now, you being associated with me isn't just fake. It's a real thing, and this puts an even bigger target on your back. That's why I'm saying the right thing for you to do would be to pretend last night didn't happen. It's not what I want, but I want you to know you have the option."
I shook my head and stood up, adjusting how we were sitting so I was now on his lap. He immediately put his hands on my hips. "I've been doing the right thing my whole life." I paused. "Well, save a few one night stands here or there." Tom laughed, and I smiled and tangled my fingers in the curls at the nape of his neck. "I think it's about time I live a little, yeah?"
Tom smiled and stroked his thumb along my cheekbone again. "I like that answer," Tom said. I smiled and leaned forward, pressing a kiss to his lips. When we pulled away from each other, I noticed he looked nervous. I thought his eyes were red, but I convinced myself I was imagining it. "I want-" He started, then stopped to clear his throat. "I want you to know that, I, um-" He licked his lips, and his eyes darted around the room.
"Tom?" I said, putting my hand on his cheek. He looked at me and took a deep breath.
"I've always got your six, okay?" he said. I smiled and pressed my lips to his again.
"And I've got yours," I told him. Tom chuckled, and I pouted playfully. "What, is that not valuable?" I said. "You see me at the range. I'm good with a gun!"
"I know, petal," he laughed, brushing his thumb across my lower lip. "I know." I lightly bit his thumb, and Tom groaned lowly. "Do that again, and I might have to strip you." I laughed and cuddled up against him. He wrapped his arms around me, and I laid my head on his chest. He was wearing shorts and a hoodie, and I didn't think he had ever seemed so fluffy. Sometimes I doubted he was really a mobster. But then I saw meetings like the one I walked into and was struck with reality.
The thought of that reminded me of the creepy guy who came and talked to me that morning. Even though I didn't want to talk about it, I knew I needed to tell Tom and that he'd want to know. I sat up a little bit so I could look at him while I spoke. "What's wrong?" he asked, noticing my shift in expression.
"I don't want to make this a big deal," I said, playing with the strings of his hoodie, "but I feel like I should tell you. Like, I don't want you to blow up about it because it's really not a big deal-"
"What's wrong?" Tom asked, lifting my chin so I was looking at him. My eyes looked from his lips to his eyes again.
"One of your guys," I said, "came up to me and, um, he -I don't know- he just made me a little uncomfortable, I guess."
"What did he do?" Tom asked, his eyes softening at my words but his grip on me getting tighter.
"I was upstairs making coffee," I said, "and I was reaching for a mug, and he came up to me and put his hands on my hips, and-" I cleared my throat awkwardly. "He called me a name, but I didn't know what it meant."
"What did he call you?"
"A prossie?" It came out more as a question, but it must've been right, because Tom's jaw clenched in anger. He nodded for me to continue. "What does it mean?" I asked.
"Nothing," he said with a shake of his head. "Keep going."
"Tom, I can take it," I said. "I want to know."
He sighed. "It's British slang for prostitute." I let out an annoyed breath, rolled my eyes, and shook my head.
"Whatever," I muttered. Whatever happened to him now was on him. A prostitute . The nerve. "He had his hands on my hips and kept pressing himself up against me. He said some other stuff like how much he'd have to pay to get to sleep with me, and then he grabbed my ass before he finally left." Tom put his hand on my cheek, and it was clear he was trying to control his anger.
"Are you okay?" he asked. I nodded. "Can you tell me what he looked like?" I described the guy to Tom, and he nodded along like he knew exactly who I was talking about. Granted, he probably did.
"But to be fair," I added, "you saw what I was wearing when I came downstairs, and it was super inappropriate-"
"No, that's such a blame the victim you-were-asking-for-it bullshit mindset," Tom said, shaking his head, "and I don't put up with that. He sexually harassed you, and that's not fucking okay."
I bit my lip and brushed my hand through Tom's hair. He looked at me and grabbed my wrist, pulling my hand away from him and kissing my palm. "Tom?"
"Mm?" he hummed. I hesitated, but Tom kissed my palm again, urging me to continue.
"Tell me about your mother?"
I wasn't sure what had come over me. I could tell by the look in Tom's eyes that I asked a question I shouldn't have. And of course that was the case. He almost beat Harrison up at the mere mention of her. "I'm sorry," I said, shaking my head. "I'm sorry. I told you I wouldn't pry, and now I'm prying again. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have-"
"Babe, relax, relax," Tom said, stroking my cheek. "It's okay." I looked up at him with soft eyes.
"You don't have to talk about it," I said. "I know it's not my place." Tom was quiet for a while. He looked like he was having a battle with himself. After a while, he laid down and moved me so I was laying on his chest. He pushed my t-shirt up a bit so his hands were resting on my bare back. I didn't say anything. I figured I should let him talk at his own pace. As expected, he did.
"I was 17 when it happened," he said. "That would make Harry and Sam about 14, and Paddy only 9. It's like Harrison was telling you. It-" He swallowed thickly. "It was a lot like what happened to you, except she wasn't alone. She went out with some friends and someone slipped something into her drink. She didn't know, so she drank it. It just, it didn't end for her the same way it ended for you. The guy took her and-" Tom stopped, closing his eyes. I could feel his hands ball my shirt into his fists. His breathing even got heavier.
"Hey, hey," I said, reaching up to stroke his cheek. He looked down at me. "It's okay. You can stop whenever you want. It's okay."
"No," Tom said, taking a deep breath again. "I know Harrison's right. I need to talk about this."
I nodded. "Take your time." He nodded and took a few deep breaths before he continued.
"He brought her back to his mob family's house, and he raped her," he said. "And then-" Tears were coming to his eyes. "-a bunch of other guys came and, they, they fucking took turns just, just taking advantage of her."
"Jesus Christ," I whispered.
"And then," he continued, "they brought her back to our house and left her on the doorstep. Obviously the mob guys brag about their conquests, so it didn't take long for them to rub the fact in our face. So when my mum found out what happened, she just, she couldn't handle the mob life anymore. So she-" He let out a broken sob. "-she overdosed. And, I was, I was the one who found her."
Tom fully broke down then, so I moved so he could sit up. I wrapped my arms around him and let him fall into my chest. He was shaking so hard, completely destroyed and riddled with sobs. "It's okay," I whispered to him, holding him close to my chest. "I'm right here. It's okay."
I tried to blink back my own tears, not wanting to make the situation about me. Seeing him that way scared me. Someone so strong breaking down so hard was heartbreaking. I wondered when the last time was that he talked about this to someone. The way he yelled at Harrison made me think it had been a long time. It was probably festering inside of him, and he had no outlet to get it out.
I didn't know how long we had been laying like that, but I figured it had to have been a while. He composed himself and pulled away from me, wiping his hands harshly against his cheeks. "I'm sorry," he said. "That was-"
"Okay," I said. "That was okay and perfectly understandable. I'm not judging you. I'm sorry I made you talk about it."
"It's okay," he said. "I just, I haven't talked about it in so long."
"I understand," I said. I hesitated, then added, "Was that one reason you didn't want to take over for your dad?"
"And why I moved here," he said with a nod. "I just didn't want to be a part of the thing that killed her. I figured if I could just get far away from London, I'd at least be able to put some miles between me and the memories." I nodded and wiped away some stray tears from his cheeks. "You know-" He hesitated and brushed the back of his hand against my cheek. "-you remind me of her."
"Yeah?" I whispered.
"Mhm," he hummed. "She was really strong. By the end, she had just been so strong for so long that she couldn't take it anymore. But man, she did not put up with anyone's shit." I laughed, and he smiled. "And neither do you."
"You're right," I said with a playful grin. "I don't."
Tom laughed. "And I think you keep me grounded." I cocked my head to the side, and he elaborated. "You put me in my place. Make me realize when I'm being a fucking idiot. I think that's good for me."
I put my arms around his neck and played with his hair. "I really like you, Tom," I told him.
He smiled. "I really like you, too." He scoffed and ran a hand through his hair. "I will say though, I think I need another line after confessing all that to you." I furrowed my eyebrows and rubbed my thumbs under his eyes. He closed his eyes at my touch.
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