“Probably not, I have to work,” I replied. It wasn’t technically a lie, in fact, I was already running late. I needed to meet Jimmy Gold at the docks in twenty minutes to straighten out a few local guys trying to push shit in Vic’s clubs. Then after that, I have to collect the money owed to Vic that he has on the streets and deal with the deadbeats that didn’t want to pay. I had a long night ahead of me.
“So that’s it?” She asks as I pull the zipper up on my jeans. I drag my shirt over my head and grab my Timberlands from the floor, shoving my feet into them and not bothering with the laces. Once I’m fully clothed and able to make a run for it I looked at Lisa.
“Let’s not make this more than it is,” I explain.
She let out a sarcastic laugh before shaking her head in confusion. I reach behind me and cup my neck trying to decide what to say to her if anything at all.
“She must’ve been something,” she murmurs.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I clip, dropping my hand from my neck fixing my eyes on her. I had never brought Adrianna up to her or any other girl I fucked. She was off limits, a forbidden topic, and one I had every right to keep to myself.
Lisa shook her head. “Just … that whoever she was, really did a number on you.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about Lisa,” I reply roughly. “Leave it alone.”
She holds her hands up in defeat and shrugs her shoulders. “You won’t hear another word from these lips. I promise.” Her wall was up, her tone like ice as she turned around and walked into the bathroom. “See yourself out.”
So much for not another word, I thought as she slammed the door. I grabbed my keys and phone off the nightstand and got the fuck out of there before the fucking tears started.
I climbed into my truck, reached for the door when my phone chimed, alerting me I had received a text message. I figured it was Jimmy harassing my life because I should’ve met him at the warehouse a half an hour ago. I pulled the door shut and reached for my phone. I let out a sigh, seeing it wasn’t Jimmy who had texted me, it was Adrianna. My fingers hovered over the screen debating on whether I should open the text, but because I couldn’t deny myself the sliver of her I had left. I opened the text.
A foreign sensation came over me as I stared down at the three pictures she had sent me of Luca. I realized I was smiling and the foreign feeling was joy. It happened once a month, every time I got a text message from Adrianna with the newest pictures of her son. He had just celebrated his first birthday and the pictures she had sent were of Luca smashing his hand into his birthday cake. I scrolled down to the second picture, laughing loudly as I stared at his cute little face. His pudgy hand covered in frosting as he tried to fit it in his mouth. The third picture was of Adrianna and Luca opening the present I had sent along with my mother. I think I’m getting the hang out of buying baby presents. At least I didn’t mull over the Mickey Mouse ride-on as long as I did when I bought him a teddy bear the day after he was born. From the looks of his toothless grin in the picture, the kid likes it. He looks adorable sitting on the ride-on and his mother looks even more adorable crouching down behind him steering it.
After Adrianna came to my apartment to thank me for being there for her when she delivered Luca, she has kept her distance. It’s what I wanted, for all three of our sakes, but fuck, it sucks. I miss her. Probably even more than I did when I was in jail because all I have to do is pick up the phone or swing by her house to see her. I’ve been tempted to do just that, more than once driving by her house like a stalker. She’s my fucking forbidden temptation.
About a month after I kissed her goodbye the pictures started coming. Every month on the fourteenth, I get a picture of Luca, sitting beside a chalkboard that says how many months he is. I never answer her texts, just as I never answered any of the letters she sent me while I was away. I don’t know why she continues to send me the pictures or why she bothered to send all those letters but whatever the reason is, I am grateful. That little glimpse of her and Luca gets me through the darkest days. Days like today when I have to go shake down a junkie that blew his mortgage on blow and went to Vic for a loan, but decided not to pay him.
It makes me feel like a goddamn monster to beat him senseless until his wife can’t bare the sight of him that she offers her engagement ring as payment. I stare into her sad, desperate eyes and know she hates me, wishes me death and all that but still she pulls the ring from her finger and shoves it in my face. I wrestle with my conscience, wishing I could let the woman keep her ring, I’d pay the debt myself if Jimmy wasn’t standing beside me kicking the poor woman’s deadbeat husband in the ribs.