sometimes. He’s been on a bender since my mother came back from her trip. They are driving each other crazy. She thinks he has feelings for the new plaything and he knows she’s screwing her personal trainer. I am not getting in the middle this time, they can kill each other, I’m done being the referee.”
He listens, but I can see he isn’t happy. “If you see something off, anything Salvi, you come to me. Straight to me, understand?”
I understand, but a deep dread sinks into my stomach. My father has done something to catch Rain’s attention and that cannot be good.
“I am going to send your mother away. I don’t want her getting into trouble.”
The knot pulls tighter as I swallow the sandwich that suddenly feels like it’s made of lead. “Rain, is he in trouble? Has he done something?” I run through everything I’ve seen the last few weeks, but nothing stands out for me.
“I just have a suspicion, and we had a disagreement. Your father chose not to listen to my advice and that makes me even more concerned. Keep your nose clean, Rat, and come to me if anything is off.”
I leave lunch feeling heavy and trying to think about what it is that Rain thinks my father has done, but at the same time it’s closer to my dinner with Chelsey, and that is enough to lift my mood.
Eight
Beige Blonde
CHELSEY
Denial, I have been in denial for a while. After talking to Ailee at dinner I decide I need to face this monster head on. I pee on ten sticks and all ten of them tell me what I already know in my heart – I am knocked up.
Knowing for certain doesn’t make things any different. I still want to pretend it isn’t there, that nothing is different and I am fine.
I’m not fine. Fear and sadness overwhelm me every moment of the day, and sleep eludes me even when I am exhausted. Sal has been distant, and we have gone back to the odd dinner and meeting up secretly when he has time away from work and his wife.
He doesn’t come near the salon anymore. I am a booty call. I know it, but somehow I can’t cut the tie. I know I have to tell him about the impending human being at some point, but he’s just been so dark and angry that I am afraid to upset him.
I am not in the mood for sex even when we are together. I feel like a rag doll that he uses to get what he needs. The excitement and thrill is gone. I’m afraid that if I stop answering him, or tell him it’s over, he will go crazy.
Sal is not ready to let me go just yet. He is possessive of me; when we are out with others he gets irrationally angry if he thinks I am receiving attention from other men, especially younger ones.
The truth is, I got tangled up in the web of a dangerous man, and the company he has been keeping lately makes me uncomfortable. The Russian men particularly look at me as if I am prime rib at a barbecue, and their dealings seem to be cagey and under the table.
This morning’s text message was enough for me to know that I won’t be seeing Sal over the weekend. Secretly I’m relieved, yet the rejection stings a little. I knew from the start I’d never be more than this, but I guess I’d hoped for something extra without even realizing I was hoping.
I let myself cry, knowing how stupid I have been, with everyone asking if I am okay and what is wrong. I have to fight the urge to run, or punch them in the face, and when Rat, who has been doing the construction, looks at me like he wants to come over and talk to me, I just give him the death glare.
He seems to pop up everywhere, like he’s in my space without actually being in it, and I’ve caught him staring a few times. He is this shadow that wafts in and out, like he’s everywhere but nowhere.
I won’t lie, he’s sexy beneath the scruff on his face and the dirty jeans. I watch him and he’s not afraid of hard work either, he’s been hands on the entire project. Alistair loves to mess with him. His lifelong dream is to turn a burly, straight man, gay for him.
And now, now I’m going to