The piano beckons me with black and white fingers. I sit and raise the lid without having to think about what I'm doing. I start with a simple scale and arpeggio, letting the easy motions flow. My fingers climb the keys, finding harmony and balance while my mind scrambles.My mother's killer. My mother's death resolved.Another scale cascades from my fingertips. The beauty is harsh against my reality.I see Dante's blue eyes when I close mine. How do I tell him what his mother is doing? Family is everything to people like us. I don't want to cause problems.What if Senator Norwood did kill my mother? What would I do then?My hands falter despite the ease of the scale and I have to restart the scale. It's been ten years but he still frightens me. I still have nightmares of him coming to the city and finding me. He has only grown more powerful with time and made more political friends. He ruined my life once and still has the power to do it again. I know I'm not the scared twelve-year-o
A knock on my door wakes me. It's still dark outside, but this late in the year it's practically dark until noon anyway. I climb out of my cocoon of blankets and pad over to the door to find Dante waiting for me.Seeing him makes my heart do flip-flops. I'm glad my family picked him. This is a match that is good on paper and in real life.“What are you doing here?” I ask, going up on my tiptoes to kiss him. His cheek is cold and there is snow in his dark hair.“I was in the neighborhood,” he replies, holding out a Styrofoam container. “I brought you some breakfast.”I giggle, taking it in my hands. I can already smell the delicious scent of french toast inside.“You sure know how to spoil a girl,” I say, grinning as I bring the container to the table and set it down. “Thank you.”He grins. It's boyish and heartwarming. I love it. I love the way his eyes sparkle. I brush the snow from his hair, my eyes going to his. His eyes are warm and brown, wrapping me up with heat.I go up on my t
“Come to our house,” Aunt Sophia says on the phone. “Your uncle wants to see you. I want to see you. I made your favorite.”“You made chicken parmigiana?” My mouth starts to water.“From scratch,” Aunt Sophia tempts me.“I'll be there,” I promise. There is little that I wouldn't do for real home cooked food. Especially food made by my aunt. That woman could have been a chef in a different life.Ethan picks me up and drives me out to the burbs. My aunt and uncle have a comfortable house with a large backyard. They own a beach house out on Cape Cod, but other than some expensive trips, they keep the extent of their wealth to themselves.Uncle Tony says that doing that and paying our fair share of taxes will keep the feds off our backs. Considering it's worked so well and that he has friends in the IRS now, I believe him.“Dinner's almost ready,” Aunt Sophia says as I walk in. “Go wash your hands. You too, Ethan.”Ethan nods a “yes, ma'am” and goes to the bathroom. He always eats with us
“Are you sure this is right, Ethan?” I ask, looking out my window at the creepy, abandoned looking office building. There are broken windows and several burnt out streetlights. It doesn't exactly look like a great place to discuss campaign finances.“Yes.” Ethan holds up the card and shrugs. “You want me to come in with you?”I want to say yes. But, if I'm going to head up this organization, I can't have my body guard all the time. Especially if I'm discussing slightly illegal campaign issues with a sitting senator. It's better I do this alone.“I think I should go in alone,” I say. I don't like the way my stomach twists when I say it. It's a bad omen, but it's too late to turn back now.“I'll be right out here if you need anything.”A flutter of worry bubbles up in my stomach. Ethan will be a long way away if anything goes wrong tonight. I tell myself I've had plenty of self-defense lessons. I'll be fine.I step out into the night. Old snow crunches under my feet as I leave the safet
I stumble out of the building and out into the cold. I hate the cold, but at least I'm free.My clothing is torn beyond saving and I'm bleeding from my lip and at least one cut above my eye. I'm fairly sure the back of my head is bleeding, but I don't dare stop to try and find out. I have to get away from him. At least all he did was hit me.“Cara?” Ethan calls, closing the car door behind him and hurrying across the snow. I must look like a disaster for him to have left the car. I certainly feel like a disaster. He catches me just as my legs give out. He's so warm, but all I can think about is how I'm getting blood on his suit.He cradles me close and runs to the car. I didn't know he was that strong, but I feel safe now that I have Ethan here. Ethan won't let Mr. Norwood hurt me. He would have stopped Mr. Norwood if he had known.“You need a doctor,” Ethan says quietly, his eyes going to the gash above my eye. Worry darkens his face as he tucks me into the car and pulls the remnants
I wake in my own bed, and for a moment, I'm sure that the whole night was just a bad dream. Then I hear Dante yelling in the other room and I frown. The frown sends a streak of pain across my face and I sigh, knowing that it wasn't just a nightmare.I sit up slowly. Luckily, all the x-rays came back negative. They seemed strangely concerned with having me cover my torso with the lead apron, but I had been to tired to care. A minor concussion, fourteen stitches on my face and twelve on the back of my head, and a full suite of bruises. The emotional trauma was just as bad. My pride is bruised as much as my body.I see a voicemail on my phone.“Ms. Savio. This is the doctor from last night. I need to speak with you when you get a chance. Please call me at this number.”I frown a little. I hope they didn't find anything else wrong with my labs and tests after I left. I'd call them once I had some food.I slither out of bed, trying to move as little as possible. I go to the living room to
As soon as Dante is out the door, I sit down at the piano bench. Even Dante's touches couldn't comfort me like the piano does. I touch the ivory keys, and then begin to play. I don't even know what I'm playing or how long I play for, I just let the music flow through me.Every time I think of Dante, the melody is beautiful. Every time I think of Norwood, I lose focus, and the music becomes terrible. Just like my life. Still, the piano is soothing. It is the one thing in my life I can always depend on.Minutes pass, maybe even hours. I'm interrupted by my phone ringing, but I don't even bother to answer it. As soon as it stops ringing, it starts again. I think of Dante, and the trouble his company is in. I sigh deeply, touching the piano one more time, like a lover. I'll return to you soon, I think.I answer the phone. “Dante?”“No, this is Dr. Robins from Urgent Care. We met last night.”Met isn't exactly the word I'd use for this situation, but it sounded better than anything else I
I walk slowly up the stairs to my apartment after lunch. I had hoped that seeing Sara would make me feel more like myself, but it had only partially worked. Just because I knew what was motivating Victoria Russo didn't mean that she wasn't still dangerous.She was a woman fighting for her lavish lifestyle and I was in the way. I needed to come up with a plan. I needed to call a doctor. I needed to figure out what the hell I was going to do with Norwood in town. I like having my panic button, but that's a band aide. I need a solution.At least she got me answers, I think as I open my apartment door. I shrug and turn to lock it behind me. There's a sticky note taped to the inside lock with just two words written on it.Good Girl.I know that handwriting. The loop on the G is forever burned into my memory from long ago. Panic wells up from the acid pit of my stomach and I bite down a scream.John Norwood was in my home. My sanctuary. My greatest tormentor was in my most safe place. He wa