Bent not Broken (290 page)

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Authors: Lisa de Jong

BOOK: Bent not Broken
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Standing between us, she studied me as I stared into his light green eyes. “Do you know him, Mia?” She asked, pointing her thumb over her shoulder. When I nodded, her smile broadened, and fixing her attention back on him, she patted his shoulder. “Good, so you don’t mind if we hit the men’s room? The ladies’ room is kind of occupied.” She thumbed the long line of females.

“Knock yourself out. It’s empty.” He stepped aside, holding the door open for us to go in.

She jogged into one of the stalls. He was holding the door for me, and I looked up at him again. “How are you? How’s Elle?” I really wanted to know how they were doing, but my head was screaming, “How’s your brother doing?”

“I’m good, and she’s doing well. She asks about you all the time. She brings up this girls’-day-at-the-mall thing a lot.”

Oh my God.
I forgot all about that. “Oh no, I’m so sorry, Jimmie! I promised her before Marcus and I—”

Cutting me off, Jimmie said, “Don’t worry about it, Mia.” I looked down ashamed. “Uh, I’ve been trying to get a hold of you. You’re a difficult woman to get a hold of these days.”

I brought my eyes back to his. “Well, I changed my number.”

I had to do it. Shamefully, I have to admit that I never memorized Marcus’ number. He programmed it himself on my phone, and since then I just searched his name when we contacted each other. Though after our break-up, I didn’t trust myself. I was afraid that I would send him late-night texts or “accidently” call him and hang up. It made the healing process more difficult, so I got a new phone and a new number in the hopes that it would keep me from thinking of him. It didn’t work, of course.

He nodded. “Mia, can I talk to you in private?”

Biting my lip, I hesitated. My buzz was beginning to wear off. That wasn’t good. I nodded. “Sure, let me just use the bathroom, and then we can talk.”

“Okay, I’ll wait for you here.”

I trotted into one of the stalls, passing by Megan as she washed her hands. “Who was that hottie?” she asked.

Lifting my dress, I pulled down my thong and peed.
Ah
, that feels good. “Some guy I know.”

“Was he the one that broke your heart?”

“No, his brother was.” I mumbled as I pulled my underwear back on and flushed the toilet. Opening the door, I found her leaning against the counter, arms and legs crossed. I made my way beside her and washed my hands.

Turning her head, she looked at me. “Are you going to be okay with him alone?”

I didn’t realize she’d overheard our conversation. Then again he kept the door open, and our voices weren’t extremely low either. Shrugging, I walked towards the hand dryer. “Yeah, he’s safe. No worries.”

She nodded.

After my hands dried, a man walked in and gave us the am-I-in-the-right-place look. We giggled as we walked out the door. Jimmie was leaning against the wall when we exited. Megan hung her hand around my shoulder and leaned in to whisper. “
Oh my God
, he is truly gorgeous. Maybe you should put a good word in for me.”

“Megan, he’s like ten years older than you.” Although Jimmie didn’t look it, he was. He was thirty-three, and she was my age.

“So, I
love
older men. They’re more experienced.” She winked. I couldn’t do anything but laugh at her. “Okay, well I’ll meet you back in the VIP room, but if you take too long, I’ll be looking for you with a police escort and all.”

Laughing, I lightly slapped her arm. “I’ll be fine. Go have fun.” She glanced at Jimmie when she passed him, noticeably eyeing him up and down. He laughed and shook his head at her boldness. She was too much. Still laughing, he looked over at me and slightly smiled.

“You look good, Mia.”

“Thanks, Jimmie, you don’t look so bad yourself.” I said, nudging his arm with my elbow.

We walked down the hall of the second level of the club, passing by several VIP rooms. I followed him till we reached the very end. He entered a room, and I followed behind. To my surprise, I had never been in there before. It was different than the others. Double in size, on one end there was a sectional and flat screen TV set up, and on the other end there was a long dining table large enough to fit over ten people. There was also a small kitchenette along the wall, complete with a stove, dishwasher, fridge, and a very small counter space.

Jimmie took a seat by the edge of the sectional. I walked over by the glass wall overlooking the dance floor. Crossing my arms, I watched the crowded club as couples danced and a group of women in one corner celebrated a bachelorette party with the bride-to-be wearing a veil and taking shot after shot. In the other corner, a man and woman were practically having sex with their clothes on by a private table. It dawned on me as I watched my surroundings I had never seen Jimmie here before, nor had I heard him talk about coming here.

“I never thought of you as the clubbing type,” I said, turning to finally face him.

He raised a brow. “I don’t do clubbing.”

“Then why are you here?”

Tilting his head, he stared at me for a moment. It was a look of surprise that I didn’t know. “We come here either before or after a job to discuss plans.”

Ah.
Wait
, so that meant Marcus came to the club a lot then. Huh, I guess there was always something new to find out. Nodding, I made my way over to the sectional and sat opposite from him. “So what did you want to talk about?” Hopefully I sounded casual.

“Well, for starters, I wanted to say how sorry I was to hear about the
miscarriage
. I know that must’ve been hard.” I nodded. Jimmie and Jeremy were the only two that knew about the pregnancy before the miscarriage.

“Also, I wanted to say, uh … Marcus told me he kind of slipped some information to you about Lou and our father.”

Standing up preparing myself to leave, I looked down at him. “Don’t worry, Jimmie; I won’t say anything if that’s what you thought.” I knew it. He was trying to cover his ass.

“No, no. Please sit.” Glaring at him, I warily sat back down. “I wanted to explain it to you in a way without giving too much information.”

“How come you can do that and Marcus can’t?”

Rubbing his hand through his buzz-cut hair, he exhaled deeply. “Well, because Marcus doesn’t know how to say something without giving too much away. And around
you,
he’s weak Look, he didn’t ask me to speak with you, if that’s what you think. I offered to talk to you for him, but he refused, and I’m slowly growing desperate. He’s out of control now, drinking constantly, careless on jobs. I don’t know how to handle him anymore.”


Oh
?” I thought of that night when Marcus came home completely drunk. He was so different. It was as if someone else had taken over him. He must be miserable, and for him to be careless on a job means he doesn’t care if his own life is taken. My heart fluttered at the thought.

“Yeah, look, I’m just going to say this in the simplest possible way. A few years ago, we received information that Lou was responsible for our father’s death. At first we didn’t believe it because he’s practically family. Well the more info we received, the more evidence was built against him. That’s when I met your brother. He was privately working on the Sorrento’s file for years, trying to take them down. His sergeant wanted him to stop working on the case, but he grew addicted. See the Sorrentos are
very
careful: they watch how they spend their money, who they do business with. But Lou only trusts two people: Marcus and me. He’d never think we’d turn on him. So we began to work with your brother. It grew irritating at first. We gave him a great deal of evidence, but he said it wasn’t enough to take Lou down. It was just enough to take some of the Sorrentos down. He said that for this kind of case, you needed years of evidence and piles of documents, so the feds could step in and take over. Anyways, we grew impatient, and your brother grew sloppy. That’s when Lou started looking more into your brother. When he found out he worked as a Boston detective, he took him out and told us
we
had to be careful whom we talked to because the entire time we were “clueless” about him. I’m truly sorry about your brother, Mia.

“We didn’t know Lou was going to do it. He took it upon himself. If we had any indication, we would’ve warned Michael. Trust me, we would have.”

Blankly staring at him, I managed to speak, “So you tried to set Lou up?” He nodded. “And what happens now?”

Looking down, he lightly shrugged. “We’re working on that.” Meeting my gaze again, he pressed his lips together and creased his eyebrows.

“What do you want me to do, Jimmie?” I asked. There was a reason he was telling me this: a reason why everything made so much sense now even though there were still so many black holes that needed to be filled.

“Talk to Marcus. When he’s with you, everything is better in
his
world. Now he’s lost.”

Nodding, I stared at his face again. “Okay.” I let out a deep breath. “Okay, I’ll talk to him.”

Jimmie walked over and wrapped his arms around me in a tight embrace. “Thank you so much, Mia. Everything is going to be okay. Trust me.” I wasn’t sure if he was trying to convince himself or me.

We ended our hug and made our way towards the door. We stopped when the door handle jiggled and the door swung wide open. My heart sank when I saw him. Marcus was in black pants and a white button-down shirt with his latest accessory, a bleach-blond, overly-tanned chick with her arms wrapped snuggly around his neck. He leaned her into the inner doorway as they sloppily made out. I wanted to throw up. I studied them in disgust. He seemed to be getting
by
just fine to me! I snapped my head at Jimmie, and he closed his eyes and mumbled, “Fuck.”

I heard the female giggle, and I turned back to them. Marcus turned his head, and his grin widened when he saw Jimmie. “Hey, Bro …” Then his head moved, and he spotted me. Extending his neck, he blinked a few times. When he realized it was me, his mouth dropped open. Trying to swallow, he pulled away from the girl. Leaning his hand against the door, he tried to keep himself balanced. He was completely trashed.

After a few seconds, he adjusted his flickering eyes. “Mia? You look
beautiful
.” The last word was a slur. I barely made it out.

My eyes flashed from him to the girl he’d just sucked face with. Her orange complexion, fake blue eyes, and her bleach-blond hair, which I was sure was also fake, stared back at me. She tilted her head to study the woman he just complimented. Her size D boobs with any slight movement would pop from her extremely tight and short pink minidress. Her overly plump lips covered in pink lip gloss, which were far too light for her orange complexion, smacked together as she chewed on gum.

Reaching for her hair, she curled a piece of extension with a finger. “She’s cute, is she going to join us, M
a
rky?” Her bubbly, high-pitched Boston accent brought my anger level from a
five
to an easy
twelve
within two-point-five seconds. What made it worse was the name she called him. Hearing the nickname his family used on her lips placed a fireball in the pit of my stomach.

Oh,
I was beyond pissed. Snapping my head back in his direction, I crossed my arms. “Really!”

It took him a moment to process what was going on. He stared at me forever before he looked back at her and laughed.
He laughed
! “Oh no sweetie, she’s not joining us. I think you should go, though,” he said to her.

“But I thought we were having fun, Marky.” She pouted.

Arrrgh
! Throwing my hands in the air, I yelled, “Oh, by all means, don’t let me spoil your fun!” I stormed between the two of them and headed down the hall.

“Mia! Mia! Come here.” I looked over my shoulder as I continued to quickly walk down the hallway. He was stumbling side-to-side trying to run after me.
Ugh
, he was pathetic.

“There you are, are you okay?” Megan gripped my arm and studied my angry appearance. Looking behind me, her eyes grew. “
Oooh.
Who is that fine piece of ass?”

Rolling my eyes, I snapped. “Let’s go!”

She narrowed her eyes. “Do you know him?”

Glancing over my shoulder, I looked in the direction of her goggling eyes. Great, all three were behind me: Jimmie, Marcus, and the plastic chick. “No, he’s just someone I
used
to know.” I growled.

“Oh come on, Mia!” Marcus wiggled his brows. “You know, you know me a little better than that.” Biting his lip, he flexed his hips, swinging his arms in and out.
He was air humping!
After a few pumps, he stopped, laughed, and pathetically tried to straighten his posture.

“You’re a dick!”
I can’t stand him
!

Laughing, he moved in closer to me, reaching for my arm. “Come on,
baby
. Let me show what you’ve been missing.”

Yeah, that did it. I think I was beyond my boiling point. In my best impersonation, I mimicked his beach-blonde’s Boston’s accent. “
Oh
why would you w
a
nt me, M
a
rky, when you can have Boston B
a
rbie!”

Plastic chick didn’t dig my comment. Cocking her head to the side, she put her hands angrily on her hips. “Are you,
like, offending
me or something?”

Laughing once at her stupidity, I thought about whether I should even answer her. “No, not at all, it’s
like
a compliment to be called Boston Barbie or
something
.” I spit sarcastically.

Straightening her position, she smiled. “
Oh
, okay.” Then she giggled.

With my eyes and mouth wide open, I faced Marcus. “REALLY?” You could’ve done just a tad better Marcus, seriously!”

“Come on guys. Let’s take this out of the hallway.” Jimmie chimed in. Marcus snapped his head in his direction.

He sneered. “Butt out, Jimmie. I think you’ve done enough. Matter of fact, what were the two of you doing in a locked room
alone
?” His face turned serious, and his eyes were beginning to grow sober.

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