Page 15 of Unloaded
6
RACHEL
Do not cry. Do not cry.I recite over and over as I walk away from the man who’s been driving me insane for months. His words hurt, but a part of me believes he didn’t mean them. I’ve seen the desire in his eyes when he looks at me. Mostly when he thinks I’m not paying attention to him. He hasn’t kissed me since the first night I met him all those months ago at Jay’s, yet, I can feel him undressing me with his eyes whenever we’re in the same room.
Am I imagining it, just wishful thinking? Nope! Ugh!It's the most infuriating thing. He wants me, at least physically, but he refuses to act on it. I don’t understand what is holding him back.
Perhaps it’s because I work for his brother. Or maybe it’s because I’m responsible for the boys, but I’m not completely convinced that’s the reason. He is so intense sometimes, like he is about to consume me from just a look. Then in seconds, he will act as if I don’t exist. He’s hot and then cold like the Katy Perry song. I’m surprised I don’t have whiplash from his mood swings.
I head into the ladies’ room, needing a minute alone to get myself under control. I’ve worked for Marley and Shelby for only about six months, but I’ve become very close to the two women. They’re the sisters I never had but always wanted. I don’t want todo anything to jeopardize our friendship. I need to forget Rosco and the feelings he stirs up in me.
I stare at myself in the mirror, giving myself an assessing look, hoping to see what Rosco sees when he looks at me. I’m no beauty, but I don’t think I’m a troll either. Like any woman, I can easily see my flaws. My hair is fine and curly. It’s unruly more often than not, especially when it rains. I’m a little thicker around my waist and hips than I should be, which has only gotten worse over the last six months.
I’ve gotten comfortable here in Virginia Beach. Marley and Shelby have welcomed me and my brothers into their family. At least once a week, I find myself and the boys at either Marley’s beach front home or Shelby’s place in a nice quiet neighborhood further inland. We indulge in great food and easy conversations while the boys play video games or workout with the Robertson men.
Nicky and Ricky idolize all the men at Invictus. The guys have been like big brothers to them, although Luke is more of a father figure. The boys love hanging out playing video games with Enos, Kelvin, and even Rosco.
Just last week, I’d been shocked to see a text on Nicky’s phone from Rosco. I hadn’t read the message or questioned Nicky about it even though curiosity has been killing me. I’m glad the boys have the men to help them with things I can’t. There are just somethings a young man needs an older man to talk to about. No matter how much I want to be there for them, I can’t help them with everything.
The boys will be eighteen in a few weeks. I can’t believe they are practically grown already. I know turning eighteen doesn’t mean they will magically be adults, but it does mean legally they will be.
I’m proud of the men they are becoming. Neither of them is showing signs of being like their father, a narcissisticpsychopath, who is evil to his core. They’ve taken more after our mother. She’d been such a good woman. I’ll never understand how she’d gotten tangled up with my stepfather, but once they’d married and after she’d become pregnant with the twins, she never considered leaving him. I suppose she’d known it would have been dangerous to try to leave him. Little had she known, it’d been a death sentence to stay with him.
The boys had been twelve-years-old when Mom died. I’d been twenty-five at the time, just finishing my Master’s degree. I’d majored in computer science and earned a prestigious internship at a high-end tech company. I had three weeks left when I’d gotten the call that Mom had been the victim of a hit and run car accident.
At the time, I’d believed my stepfather’s account of what had happened. Both my mother and her driver had been killed in the incident. I’d come home to grieve with my brothers, but something had felt off from the moment I’d stepped back inside the home where I’d grown up. I hadn’t lived at home since I’d left for college.
I’d only been seventeen when I moved to campus. I’d found other things to do in the summers, taking classes and jobs so I could finish my degree as quickly as possible. I’d had a primal need to be independent. There had always been something about my stepfather that I didn’t like, but he’d been very careful when Mom had been alive not to do anything to upset me or her.
However, once she’d passed, he’d changed. The moment I’d arrived back home, he’d let me know I wouldn’t be finishing my internship. “Rachel, it’s the woman’s place to manage the home, children, and perform charity work. You don’t need to worry about finding a job. I’ve arranged for you to be taken care of,” he’d informed me. I’d been shocked.
“What do you mean?” I’d demanded, angrily. “I will be finishing my internship!” He’d stalked out around from behindhis desk. My breath had stilled in my chest from the look in his eyes. His hand had flown out striking my face so hard I’d seen stars. My head had whipped to the side as blood trickled down my chin.
“Don’t talk back to me!” my stepfather had roared. “You are just a silly girl. I’m the head of this family and a very powerful organization. You will do as I say.” I’d been in shock. I’d never seen this side of him before that day. He’d gone on to inform me after a ‘proper’ grieving period, he would announce my engagement to a man twice my age whom I’d never met and that I would be wed to the old geezer within a couple of months. I hadn’t argued with him any further. I’d played my part as the dutiful daughter throughout the next few days while we mourned and buried my mother.
After the funeral, I’d overheard a conversation between him and his right-hand man that had frightened me to my core. I’d taken the boys and fled that night, after all the guests had left from my mother’s funeral. The boys had confided in me things they had seen and heard over the years before Mom’s death. They’d heard Mom arguing with their father a few days before she’d died. She’d been upset he was beginning to groom the boys to work in his organization, which I came to learn is a faction of the Italian mob.
Thanks to my computer skills, I’d been able to hide our escape and keep us hidden the last five years. We’ve moved countless times, changed our names, and in the first couple of years changed our hair color repeatedly.
It’s been over a year since I’ve had any indication he is still looking for us. I’ve kept an eye on him and his organization. He’s remarried to a much younger woman and has two more children with his new wife, a boy and a girl. I shiver thinking about those poor children and what they will have to endure as they grow.
I shake myself drawing me back to the present. A part of me is sad about the boys growing up, becoming men. I’ve spent so much of my life looking out for and worrying about them, but I know they are going to be much better men than their father.
A knock on the door startles me. I’ve lost track of time. I notice I’ve been in here for fifteen minutes. Crap! I need to get back out there. It’s time for the event to begin. I quickly touch up my lipstick and open the door.
“Oh! Rachel are you all right?” Shelby asks with concern on her face. I give her a reassuring smile.
“I’m fine,” I answer. She cocks her head to the side giving me a look that says she doesn’t believe me. “I promise, I’m perfectly fine. I just needed to fix my hair and touch up my makeup before we get started. The humidity from the steam of cooking is hard on a girl.” I grin and wink at her.
“Look, don’t hold Rosco’s behavior against him,” Shelby says, ignoring my attempt to change the subject. She glances toward the room where the food and people are gathered. “I don’t know why, but he’s struggled with relationships after getting out of the Navy. Bo doesn’t even know why he left the way he did, but something happened that shook Rosco’s foundation. He hasn’t been the same since, according to Bo.”
I nod, but what does that have to do with me? I don’t claim I understand, because I’m sure he’s seen and been forced to do things I don’t want to imagine.
“He’s different around you,” Marley interjects, joining the conversation, as she reaches us. Apparently having overheard what Shelby had just said. My face is covered in shock at Marley’s words.
“What do you mean?” I ask instead of shutting this conversation down. I won’t grovel for Rosco’s attention. I might be in an extremely long dry spell and let’s be honest, desperate. But I’m not so desperate that I’ll beg him to notice me. If hedoesn’t want me, there are plenty of men out there that would be more than happy to satisfy my needs. If only I were interested in any of them.Gah! FML!
“He looks at you so intensely,” Marley states. Shelby nods her agreement. “I can tell he wants you, but whatever happened in his past is holding him back. Luke has tried to talk to him about it, but he’s refused to say anything more than, you are too good for him.”
