Chapter 6

His voice beckoned her. He was like a drug she couldn't escape. She needed him. His touch took the edge off. All her life she had looked for someone, someone who would treat her like a person instead of a sex object. She had finally found him. Everything a man should be. Kind and gentle. Giving and warm. A lover and a friend. He embodied all of those qualities and more, many more.

He twirled her around over and over on the brightly lit dance floor. They were alone under the purple and red haze of lights, dancing to their own beat. The dry-ice mist covered the tiled floor, and Chloe felt like she was on a cloud. His touch so light, his body so strong. His eyes so kind. He was her one in a million. She laughed as he swooped her up in his arms and dipped her. Lightly, he kissed the tip of her nose before bringing her back up to him. They swayed in unison, wrapped up in each other.

"I love you," he said to her, and she believed him. For the first time, someone did love her. His big chestnut eyes twinkled, and she wondered what she had done without him. The light and shadows played off of his finely chiseled features. His strong, square jaw had always been a favourite spot of hers to kiss. He had the most incredible lips, rosy red and full. When he closed his eyes, she noticed his long, curly eyelashes and how perfect he truly was. His smell. There was nothing like it in the world.

He had told her he loved her. It hadn't been the first time, but it was going to be the first time he would hear those words from her own mouth. The words were at the tip of her tongue. For the first time, she was ready to say the words. She knew he had been waiting to hear them. She wanted him to know. He was the first person she had ever loved, and she would always love him. She neared his ear and began to whisper the hardest sentence she had ever constructed. "I...I lo..."

Her words were cut short. The sound blasted through the room and echoed off the walls, fiercer than thunder, more frightening than lightening. She counted. One. Two. Three. That was all it took. He came tumbling down into her arms, bringing them both to the hard floor. Her world came crashing down around her, spinning her out of control and out of focus.

It couldn't be real. Everything had been perfect. She should have figured that it wouldn't last. Nothing good in her life ever lasted. She looked around. They were still alone. Confused and disoriented, she tried to roll him over. Finally, she got out from under his strong body. His eyes were closed, those perfect eyelashes resting. She gently shook him, and they fluttered open and shut. Then, she saw the blood. All the blood. It pooled around his body. She lifted his head into her lap, stroking his thick mess of hair, and rocking back and forth.

"Nooooo..." she cried. Why did it have to be like this? What had she done? All the heartache was supposed to be over. This wasn't supposed to happen. Not now. Not when she was so close to loving him. "Open your eyes for me...please, please...just open your eyes..."

Slowly, he forced his eyes open and looked up at his love, his life. "Chloe, Chloe..."

"Shhh, I'm here...I'm here...you're going to be fine...I won't let you go..."

He took hold of her hand, and Chloe felt the blood. He was already getting cold. It was thick and like liquid ice. Red. Everything was red around her, the lights, the blood. Since that night, just the sight of it brought her back, putting her into a catatonic state of remembrance. She tried to warm him up, draping her body over his and letting the sobs overtake her.

"Chloe..."

"Shhh...don't talk. They'll be here soon...you'll be okay..."

"Chloe..." His breathing grew shallower. His lungs were being filled with death. "I'm...sorry..." he confided, begging her forgiveness.

"Don't be. You'll be fine...shh now. They're on the way...I can hear the sirens..." It was a lie. There were no sirens, and it would take paramedics so very long to get there. Too long.

"I'm……sorry," he repeated, as the last bit of life came undone within him.

"No, no, don't sleep now...they're coming..."

But it was too late. They got there too late, and he was dead, and so was a part of Chloe. They found her there, lying next to his lifeless body. They thought at first they had two victims, since she was covered in blood too. But it was his blood, his life that had been cut short.

Later that night, she took her dress off and held it in her trembling hands. She focused on the crimson stains. Her stomach churned at the sight of it. She could barely make it to the bathroom in time. She threw up into the toilet and broke out into cold sweats. She laid her head against the cold, white porcelain and let the first of the tears claim her. Again, she felt the unsettling sensation and heaved into the bowl until there was nothing left. She lay down on the cold tiles, adorned in her stained bra and panties. Closing her azure eyes, she fell victim to her own fatigue.

She woke up in a fetal position with a raw, pasty taste in her mouth. She didn't care. She picked herself off the floor and made her way to her bed. Pulling the covers over herself, she began her teary assault on her body all over again. For days, she stayed curled up in a ball. Not eating, not bathing, and definitely not caring. Nothing mattered anymore. Her life might as well have been snuffed out with his. She hadn't even had the chance to tell him. So badly she wanted to take back the night to tell him she loved him. Even as he lay dying in her arms, she hadn't said it, and she hated herself for it.

She remembered the write-up in the paper the next day. It was so cold, so uncaring.

MOB BOSS DIES IN MISTRESS''S ARMS

Early this morning at 2:15 a.m., acclaimed mob boss Anthony Scalenta was shot and killed inside of Truth nightclub on the lower east side. Three shots are reported to have been fired. Police officials claim that Scalenta was involved in many shady business deals. Two shots to the back and one to the head killed Scalenta. Police have suspects but have made no arrests.

A wanted criminal, Scalenta was under investigation for many crimes committed in the area. Scalenta was found by a seventeen year old girl who cannot be named. Officials have said however that she was Scalenta's mistress and witnessed the entire episode. No other occupants were injured. Witnesses are asked to come forward and report to the NYPD immediately.

Scalenta was survived by his wife and two children. Police have taken precautions in many of the mob related areas of town. Citizens are asked to be advised of road blocks and spot checks. Security is being added in certain areas of the city. Patrons of club Truth should note that it will be closed for investigation.

They didn't know him. They made it seem like he had been some callous snake. That wasn't all that he was. Not by a long shot. They didn't know the man that had saved her from a life that would have certainly landed her on the streets. They didn't know the man who loved his children. They didn't know him like she did. And therefore, didn't know him at all.

He had been the one to rescue her from a life of poverty and destruction. It had been Tony that had taken her in to help raise his children when she ran away from another abusive foster-home. She had no money, no job, no life. Until that day when she found his ad in the paper. She had no idea who he was or why she had been so drawn to the paper that morning. She had gone for the interview and was hired immediately by Mrs. Scalenta.

Chloe knew nothing of life in the mob. She knew about children though. When she grew up, there were always plenty of children in the various places she lived. Sometimes, she had to take on that motherly role for the younger ones, the ones whose parents had died and were new to the word of foster-care. She had to protect them. Nothing would happen to kids under her care; she made sure of it. She never wanted any child to go through what she had in her life.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Chloe tossed over and over in her sleep. It had been at least two years, but she still had the nightmares. She couldn't erase the sound of the shots from her memory, nor the way his speech slurred while she held his dying body. The gurgling sound his lungs made as he gasped for air. Those were things she would never forget.

Brady walked into his apartment, throwing his jacket on the closest chair. Then he kicked off his steel toed boots. He saw a figure moving around in the darkness and grabbed the baseball bat he kept by the door. Forgetting he had given Chloe his key, he slowly approached the couch to the moaning body.

"They're coming. Just hold on..." She tossed again in her sleep, tears coming down her face.

Brady turned the lamp beside the sofa on. He stared down at Chloe, obviously in some sort of distress. He put the bat down and came around to face her, eyeing the box with the yelping pups. He picked them up and sat in the chair adjacent to the couch, watching her. She hugged the pillow tight to her, mumbling sentences Brady couldn't quite make out. He frowned. Maybe she wasn't so free. Maybe everyone had their demons, he thought.

Finally shaking herself out of the dream, Chloe opened her eyes and tried to fix her eyes to the blurred image before her. The light was bright and finally she could make Brady's shape out. She quickly sat up, smoothing her hair. "Brady, I didn't think you would be back so soon."

"It's three in the morning. When did you expect me back?"

"Three a.m.? Oh, I must have fallen asleep. Did you have a good time?"

"I guess."

"Oh, what? She wouldn't put out?" Chloe asked sarcastically.

"Nah. She put out all right, but she was a lousy lay. She just kept screaming. She was giving me a headache." Brady laughed to himself.

"You're disgusting."

"Thanks," he smiled at her, amused. "So what were you dreaming about?"

"What?"

"When I came in, you were saying something about they're coming or something like that. What was it about?"

"Oh, I don't remember."

"How can you not remember? You just had the dream."

"I don't, okay?" she snapped.

"Fine. Should we feed these guys?"

"Sure."

"Did you pick names for them yet?"

"Yeah."

"Well, let's hear ''em, and see how much I hate them."

"Look, if you're just going to be critical, then..."

"No, go ahead. Tell me," he said, lifting the pups in the air in front of his face and nuzzling noses with them.

Chloe couldn't help but giggle. Brady had forgotten that he was supposed to be a hard ass and immediately returned the little puppies to their box, scoffing at her. "Bert and Ernie."

"What?"

"That's what I named the puppies," Chloe said, proudly.

Brady shook his head and laughed. "First of all, Chloe, I think you're forgetting one thing."

"What's that?"

"Bert and Ernie are male names, and one of those puppies is a girl. And secondly, couldn't you come up with anything more original than that?"

"Oh, I see your point. Well, smart guy, what would you name them?"

"Uh, I dunno. Bosco maybe, or Bogie, or……hell, why don't you name them after your hometown?"

"New York? I don't think so, Brady."

"I thought you just got to New York. You never said you grew up here."

"It's complicated, and I really don't feel like getting into it at three in the morning. So let's just drop it, okay?"

"Fine. Why don't you name one of them after my hometown then? Salem." <>It sounded awfully familiar to Chloe, but she couldn't place where she had heard that name before. Little did she know it was the place she had gone searching for her mother not too long ago. That hadn't worked out. She had instantly clashed with the woman who gave birth to her and left without a second thought about the small town. "Salem? Hmm, not bad. But that still leaves a name for the girl. What do you think about Lily? I know it doesn't really seem like a dog name, but they are golden-coloured, and I really like that name.""

"Yeah that's good. So I guess it's all settled."

"I guess," Chloe said, meeting his gaze and holding it.

Brady's incredible blue eyes glinted against the soft glow of light from the lamp. Looking into each other's eyes, there was sudden clarity. They both had been hurt. It was easily detectable by just one glance. Their pain was mirrored in each other's eyes. Not just any kind of pain, but deep emotional hurt.

Brady had to turn away; she seemed to be getting too close. She was looking into him, as if she knew what he was thinking. He didn't know quite how to react. ""Do you want something to drink?" Brady offered, uncharacteristically friendly.

"Yeah, okay. Do you have any tea or something like that?"

"That's not the kind of drink I was thinking of, Chloe. I meant alcohol. You know?"

"S……s...sure. Whatcha got?" Chloe said hesitantly. She needed something to take the edge off. Her dream had really rattled her. It seemed that it had been a lifetime ago, but she just couldn't forget. Yeah, she definitely needed that drink. She ran her tongue across her teeth in her suddenly dry mouth.

"Well, let's see. I've got tequila," he said, rummaging among some bottles. Some empty, some partly filled, some unopened. "Tequila, and oh a beer and more tequila. What do you want?"

"Bring on the tequila, Black!"

"That's my girl!" Brady laughed. He brought out two shot glasses, a salt shaker, three limes and a bottle of the finest tequila he had. He set the bottle in front of Chloe.

She stared into it. "Uhh...there's something in the bottom of this." She picked up the bottle, swishing the liquid around, trying to figure out what it was.

"Yeah, that's the worm."

"The worm?" Chloe said, disgusted.

"Well, I guess you don't drink much tequila. The best brands have these little guys in them." He pointed, indicating the small worm in the bottom of the bottle. "It's really a myth that all Mexican tequila companies put in the worm. It's more the American corporations who market it that way. The myth is that the worm is an aphrodisiac or that it holds some type of mystical power. The truth is it's just a good marketing ploy,"" he laughed.

"Oh."

Brady filled the shots to the brim, spilling some on the coffee table. "Okay, we'll do the first shot straight up. Okay?" He handed Chloe her glass, and they clinked cups. ""Bottoms up!"

Chloe plugged her nose, and swallowed the burning liquid.

"Good?" Brady laughed.

"As good as liquid fire can be," Chloe blurted out sarcastically, the alcohol still stinging her throat.

"Okay, now let me teach you what to do with these." Brady motioned to the salt and limes. "Okay, lick the back of your hand." He watched her do it, then continued. "Good, now pour some salt on it." Chloe complied, while Brady refilled the shots and cut a lime into wedges. "Now, when I count to three, you lick the salt, down the drink and suck on the lime. Got it?"

Chloe nodded and Brady smiled. "One...two...three..." they said in unison and followed the steps Brady had just laid out.

"Mmm...that does go down a lot easier," Chloe giggled, feeling slightly sick.

"All right, are you ready for something else?"

"Sure," Chloe said, feeling a little buzzed. "What do you have in mind?"

Brady's lips curled into a smirk. "Body shots!" he announced proudly.

"Brady!" Chloe protested.

"Well, if you're scared..."

That was all Chloe needed to change her mind. She wasn't about to let Brady think she was scared of him or the power he had over her. No, she was determined to prove him wrong at every turn. "Fine. I'll go first. Come here!"

Chloe pulled Brady by the collar, closer to her. She licked his neck in one long stride, making sure he knew who was in charge. She dabbed on the salt and began licking it off. The smell of her hair was driving him insane. It cascaded down her shoulders, and he couldn't help but to want to touch it. Chloe continued her assault on his pulsating neck, finally taking the shot down in one gulp and squeezing the tangy lime onto her tingling lips.

"My turn, I guess," Brady said, pouring his glass full.

Chloe moved her hair out of the way, and he fulfilled his duty, placing the salt on her shoulder and the lime in her mouth. He sucked on her exposed blushing shoulder as his tongue moved relentlessly over the tender area. He took the lime with his own lips, just grazing hers.

It was getting hot in there. The shots were starting to go to Chloe's head, and she found herself enjoying the game more and more. She crawled on the floor and situated herself between his thighs. She ripped open his crinkled black shirt and wasn't happy to find a black tank underneath. She pulled the material up, off of his stomach, exposing his bare skin and the hard planes of his chest.

All he could do was look at her. The game was getting out of control. But he liked this feeling of not be able to predict what was going to happen next. Chloe certainly was full of surprises. She touched his skin. The pleasure was almost unbearable. She licked his tight abs and bit a little too, the small rush of pain waking him up inside. He closed his eyes as she continued her torture. Finally, she offered him some temporary relief when she finished off the lime. It was his turn. He pulled her onto his lap. Their breathing became laboured. He didn't want to drink anymore, now he wanted her. All of her. He took his hand and brushed her arms and hips.

Chloe was still thirsty though, and she took his hand in hers and licked the top of it. Then, she remembered. She looked down at his masculine hand and saw the scar. She was still sober enough to remember what Jared had told her, but not sober enough to keep quiet about it. Against her better judgment, she decided she would ask him about it. "Where'd you get this?" She delivered small pecks around his injury, hoping he would tell her the truth.

Brady recoiled his hand, and his eyes were once again filled with sadness and pain. "Oh, you know, rough-housing when I was a kid, I guess."

"That's not what I heard," Chloe giggled, leaning into him for support. Yeah, she had too much to drink.

"What are you talkin' about? Chloe, you're drunk. Maybe you should get some sleep."

"I know what happened. Jared told me. You were maaaaa...aadddd." She hiccupped. "...and...and you punched the door."

Suddenly, Brady felt the anger rising in himself, and he had to get away from her. What was he doing? Chloe was definitely getting too close, too personal. He picked her up by her hips and moved off the chair. Did she have to bring up that day? Did she have to remind him of Jared? "Look, you don't know anything. So stay out of my business! What gives you the right...Fuck! Just leave me alone!" he yelled at her, anger seeping from his pores.

It was obvious to Chloe that it was still a sore subject, and she never should have brought it up. Under normal circumstances, she probably wouldn't have, but she was drunk and vulnerable and wanted to get to know him. She wanted him to tell her the truth, and she was hurt when he didn't. She couldn't even explain why when the first tear fell, but she tried quickly to wipe them away before he saw. She thought she had succeeded, but she was wrong.

He had seen the tears, and a part of him felt bad; but the rest of him was so caught up in his anger that he couldn't even stand to look at her. He wasn't going down this road again. Besides he had a promise to keep, and he had almost broken it tonight. He left her on the couch and went to his room, preparing for another sleepless night.

She fell asleep quickly. Wrapping herself in the afghan from the couch, she closed her eyes and thought back to that fateful night once again.