13–Tears, Lies and Relocation

GUSTAVO

“You…killed him. You killed him.” She tries to absorb the information. “Oh my god!” The girl starts to yank at the door, thinking I’m going to kill her next.

“I killed him because he was going to kill you,” I say.

“What?” She stops pulling the handle.

“That man was going to put a bullet through your skull.”

“You’re lying.” She starts to yank at the doors again, but they’ve autolocked now that I’ve started to drive.

“I’m not. Give your father a call.”

“Daddy?”

“Yes, Daddy. Ask him why you almost died.”

I keep the doors locked as we pull up to the office. Maryjane tries jiggling the handle a few more times but gives up and picks up her cell phone. She presses her back against the door, keeping her eyes on me as she calls Gary.

“D-Daddy?” Her throat constricts, and her voice goes up an octave. “A man just killed another guy in front of me and threw me in his car. He says he killed him because he was going to kill me, and that you would explain why.

“Daddy says to put the phone on speaker.” Tears have started to pool in her eyes.

“Can you hear me, Gustavo Silver?” Gary asks.

“I can.”

“Alright, Maryjane. I have some difficult things to explain.”

Gary tells Maryjane about the other side of his business. He leaves out intricate details, such as how we use him to run opioids, and issues with Eduardo, but Maryjane gets the picture. The tears that have pooled in her eyes start to fall.

“You’re going to stay with Gustavo Silver for a while,” Gary says.

“No,” she sobs. “I want to go home. I want to be with Slippers.”

“Slippers can come with you.”

Um, I don’t want a cat living in my apartment. I hate the things. But I’m not going to say no to Gary Diego.

Maryjane cries for a little while longer as her father tries to console her over the phone. Eventually, she runs out of tears and ends the phone call. The girl sits quietly in my car, not trying to run.

“So, it wasn’t a coincidence,” she says quietly.

“What?”

“The day at the docks. My father sent you there on purpose.”

“That day was an accident. I was there doing…business, and things went south. I’m sure if your father knew I was anywhere near those docks he wouldn’t have sent you.”

Maryjane has a rare moment where she looks me in the eyes with no problem, and I see her decide I’m not lying. “When wasn’t it?”

“After I got mad at you for walking by my work. The chances of you being there were so miniscule that I had to learn your identity. That’s when I found out you were Gary’s daughter.”

“Oh.”

“I’m sorry, Maryjane.”

Maryjane smiles and a stray tear falls. “You didn’t call me Sweetheart.”

“After what I put you through today, I figured you’d murder me.”

“I…like it when you call me that.”

Oh fuck no. I can’t be having these thoughts as she’s crying in front of me. But she’s still the most beautiful girl in the world with tears falling down her face. Her eyes change from a dark to light green with brown flecks, and her lips and cheeks have a unique red tint.

“Am I moving to a new place? My dad probably wants me at a gated community.”

“Well, sort of.” I cringe, knowing she won’t take the next piece of news well. “You’re going to live in my guest bedroom.”

She chokes on her spit. “Wh-what?” She almost looks as horrified as after I shot the man in the head. “But…” Her eyes wander to the mark on my neck and she turns bright red. “Oh my god.”

“Let’s get your things, then.”

We drive in silence to her apartment. Her nails are digging into her palms, and she’s gone stark white. Why is she so nervous? Yes, there’s an enormous amount of sexual tension between us, but all she’s doing is living in my spare bedroom. She’s twenty-five years old, and hot as hell, so there’s no doubt she’s ended up in other men’s apartments before. I tighten my grip on the steering wheel. I hate all those men.

“Where do you live?” she asks.

“Sunset Boulevard. The area around Beverly Hills.”

“Ok.”

Most girls are impressed at my status. I have a feeling that this will be nothing to Maryjane. With Gary as her father, she grew up with the best of everything.

Wait. If she’s from a wealthy family, why does she live in a small, run down apartment? She could be living in Bel Air if she wanted to. I contemplate asking but leave it be.

“I can meet you at your apartment. The trolley doesn’t run from that area, so I’ll pack up and drive over.”

“I’ll be driving you everywhere, Sweetheart.”

“But—Whatever. You can just wait on the sofa,” she mutters.

She packs Slippers in his carrier. I can’t believe I’m going to live with a cat. All they do is meow, eat, and leave fur everywhere.

She’s packing clothes into her suitcase, and a stray pair of panties fall out. It’s a small, cotton thong, and I want to scream because I can’t see her in it. My eyes wander down to her ass, and I wonder what it’d feel like in the palm of my hand. It looks like the perfect size for me to cup my hand around it.

Her friend comes out to the balcony as I’m loading Maryjane’s things in my car.

“Hey,” she says.

“Hi.”

“What’re you two up to?”

Crap. I want to let Maryjane handle this question. I’m not sure how she wants to lie about why she’s staying at my apartment.

“Er…” I say.

“I’m going to spend more time at Gustavo’s apartment.” Maryjane pokes her head out from under the balcony. “I need to grab some things.”

“Oh really?” A Cheshire Cat like grin creeps across her friend’s face. “Well, I’ll just leave you two to pack then. Let’s get lunch tomorrow, Maryjane.”

“Ok.”

Maryjane manages to keep it together until she shuts the apartment door. Then, she buries her head in her hands.

---

“So…this is it,” I say, leading her into my apartment.

My apartment is massive, and the vaulted ceilings only further emphasize its size. It’s a bit under decorated for a girl, but it’s fine for someone like me, who doesn’t give a shit. It’s strictly for sleeping, fucking girls, and watching TV. Sometimes business meetings take place here, but only with trusted contacts.

Maryjane is clutching Slippers to her chest while I roll her luggage in. I can tell how much she doesn’t want to be here. If I was a normal person, I could say something that would make her feel better. But I’m not. I don’t have reassuring words to whisper in her ear. My words have always been filled with darkness and hatred.

“I’m right across the hall. If anything happens, I’ll be there in two seconds,” I say.

“Will anything happen?” she whispers.

“I don’t think so.”

“Goodnight, then.”

There is no hug, or sensual nibble on the other’s skin. She takes her bags in and doesn’t look at me.

I can hear her gentle sobs through the door. She cries to Slippers that it’s not fair, and she wants things to go back to normal.

I want them to go back to normal, too. Maryjane has stirred strange emotions I’ve never felt before, and I can’t decide if I like them or hate them. I do know one thing: It’s going to be a huge problem.