Page 15 of Claimed By The Devil

“Good, because I plan to keep you here.”

I consider asking him to define that for me. Growing up unsure about your place in other people’s lives breeds a certain level of insecurity, and it would crush me to find out that I was just a passing obsession for him. As much as I’d like to demand a clear-cut outline of his plans for me, I push the desire back. For reasons that I don’t understand, my instincts tell me to trust him even though I’ve never truly trusted anyone before.

I close my eyes again and drift off into a peaceful slumber that ends when his phone rings.

“Baby, the water’s getting cold,” he stirs me.

He gets out of the tub and wraps a towel around his waist. Then, he holds a larger, fluffy towel out to me. I step out onto the bathmat and he wraps me in the towel.

“Go get in bed. I need to check my phone. It’s probably an update on Jimmy,” he kisses my wet shoulder and leaves me.

I climb into his king-size bed and pull the covers over me. He returns soon after and sits on the edge of the bed.

“Is Jimmy okay?” I ask him.

“It wasn’t about Jimmy. It was your father. He heard about what happened today and ended his honeymoon early. He wants to see me at your house in the morning.”

His words send my mind racing and an old, familiar anxiety washes over me. How will my father react when Danny and I walk through the door together in the morning? He must know that we’re being intimate. Will he feign caring so he can use me as a continued bargaining chip with Danny? Will he pretend to be the concerned father? How will Danny respond if my father insults or ridicules me? For the first time, I begin to think that I might be a liability in Danny’s alliance with my father.

“Should I stay here, then?” I ask him.

“Why would you do that? You live there and you don’t have any clothes here,” he questions.

“I just don’t want to be in the way,” I explain.

“In the way? What does that mean?”

“My father doesn’t care about me, but if he thinks that he can use me to gain some sort of advantage with you, he will.”

“I told you, you’re mine. That deal is done, and he needs to honor it. It’s the code. You have nothing to worry about,” he asserts.

I nod my head but I’m not at all convinced that things will go smoothly. My father is a lifelong opportunist, and he’s not above using anything or anyone to get his way.

* * *

We pull into my driveway,and I try to shake off the rush of nervous energy that hits me. This situation isn’t initiating my response. It’s merely enhancing the feeling that I had every day when I came home from school and my father’s car was in the driveway.

There are guards posted at the front door who pat us both down before allowing us to enter. The larger of the two men point to Danny’s sidearm and says, “You need to leave that with us.”

Danny looks the man up and down. He’s one of the biggest guys on my father’s crew, and he’s still half Danny’s size. Danny smirks and hands him the pistol.

We enter the house escorted by the smaller of the men. I hesitate in the entry and tell Danny, “I’m going to go up to my room.”

“You sure you don’t want to see your father first?” he asks.

“Very sure,” I nod.

“Okay, I’ll come and see you when we’re through,” he kisses my forehead and I make a break for the stairs. I have to calm my racing heart and wobbly legs before I hyperventilate.

10

DIAVOLO AND THE BULL

DANNY

Bobby Vito is seated on his patio reading the paper and looks up at me when the guard escorts me out. He folds the paper and sets it on the patio table.

“Newspapers are supposed to be a thing of the past. I’m supposed to read my news on that tiny phone screen now. It’s not the same,” he tells me. He points down at an article titled, “Shots fired in midtown.”

---