Risqué by Elena M. Reyes

31

Apounding on my front door wakes me up God knows what time later. It’s bright out, the high beams of light filtering through the side of my curtain and illuminating the room. The next thing I realize is that Callum isn’t back, and an unsettled feeling crawls under my skin.

Another knock, louder this time.

“Who the hell could be…” I trail off, scrambling off the bed as the worst-case scenario plays out in my head. There’s a small stack of loungewear on a chair in the corner, and I grab whatever is at the top before running out of the room. “I’m coming!”

This time the knocking is less loud, but still as persistent. “Hurry up.”

I almost trip over the bag with my clothes. How did that end up in here? Not that I stop to pick it up or try to remember. I stumble-jog with a little jumping thrown in as I find my balance before throwing the door open. Giannis is there, hand poised to knock again and grinning.

What the hell?

“Who’s hurt?” I ask, my hand shooting out to grab his shirt. “Where’s Callum?”

“That man is more than fine, but busy at the moment. It’s why I’m here.” I’ve never gone from worry to annoyance so quick in my life. “Lose the grip, Ali. I really like this shirt, and so does Dwayne. He bought it for me.”

“Why are you here?” Each word is spoken slowly while I release my hold and step back, hand on the doorknob so I can slam it in his face. “Why knock like that and scare a few years off my life?”

“Callum said you might be sleeping, so I wanted to make sure you heard.”

Closing my eyes, I take in a deep breath and let it out slowly. Choking him would be bad. He’s been there for me. Looking at him again, I nod and take it as that. He’s an idiot sometimes. “Okay. And why are you here to wake me up?”

“Because your boy toy said to do so. We’re getting a mani-pedi!”

Sweet man. I bet this has to do with me hating the green on my toes to match my dress last night.

“What doyou think of purple for my toes?” Giannis asks two hours later, sipping on a coffee while the nail tech files his nails. “It’s my favorite color.”

“Depends on the shade, but I much prefer white on feet. I haven’t seen a single person it doesn’t look good on.”

“True, but Dwayne likes bright colors.”

“What about teal?”

“Teal could work.” He’s pensive for a moment, then takes out his phone and sends out a text. It chimes back within seconds, and Giannis’s smile is sweet. The way his eyes brighten is adorable. “He approves, just asks that it’s on the darker spectrum than pastel.”

The lady doing his nails stops and looks at him. “I have the perfect shade. Just came in a few days ago.”

“Perfect. I’d…”

The cell in my wristlet alerts me to a text message and I take it out, opening the app. It’s from Callum, and I frown.

I’m sorry. Still with Casper. Impromptu business meeting with his father on a video call. ~Callum J.

I don’t like it, but I’m not mad. He needs to talk to them and in the meantime, I’ll spend a little time getting pretty for him.

Before I can tell him that, though, I get another text.

I miss you. I’d rather be taking that bath with you now than listening to these two talk. ~Callum J.

My fingers fly across the keyboard on the screen.

Raincheck for later, Mr. Jameson? And by the way, thank you for the lovely surprise. Although, if you ever send him to wake me up again, I will shoot you. ;) ~Venus

Three dots appear. Then pause. Appear again. And pause.

So violent, my Venus? I’m hurt. ~Callum J.

You will be if he ever pounds on my door like a maniac again. Idiot scared me half to death. ~Venus

Do you need me to scare him? I can make him pee his trouser’s in penance. ~Callum J.

Laughter bubbles out, loud at that, and Giannis looks over at me with a cautious expression. More so when the more I look at him, the harder I laugh. There’s no doubt in my mind that Callum would do it, scare the hell out of him, but I’m not that mean.

Not this time, but if he ever does it again… ~Venus

Noted. ~Callum J.

“Why do I get the feeling that my life’s been threatened?” Giannis asks, leaning over to try and read the message thread. My response is to flick his nose. “Ouch! That stung.”

“Then don’t be nosy.” The nail tech finishes massaging my feet and cleans the nail bed in prep for polish. She holds up two bottles: one that is just stark white, while the other has a bit of gold glitter to it. “Always go with the sparkly.”

“Good choice.”

Turning my face toward Giannis, I raise a brow. “What’s next on the agenda? Nails will be done in the next ten minutes, and I’m getting hungry.”

“Lunch? There’s that new gastro pub on South Port.”

“Works for me. I’d kill for a burger and beer.”

“Let’s do it, then.”

Heading to lunch with Giannis next. Want me to send something over? ~Venus

I watch the screen for a few minutes, but no reply comes through.

Unusual, but I don’t pay much attention to it. He’s with his family and they need to talk.

He’ll get back to me the second he can.

Is everything okay? ~Venus

That’s the last message I sent Callum around four in the morning, fifteen minutes before sleep pulled me under. We didn’t talk again after our exchange while I was getting my nails done. Not so much as a smoke signal from him, and the more time passed, the worry grew.

And grew.

It grew to the point that I called Aurora under the pretense of returning her calls from the day before. Not that she gave me much to go on; Aurora’s attention was on her guest, not us, and after a few minutes of stilted conversation, she promised to call in an hour or two.

She didn’t. Hasn’t.

So, I sent him another text. No answer.

Another one around ten at night. Nothing.

Watching my phone’s screen became a necessity, and I did so, until I couldn’t stave off my sleep. That’s why I’m uncoordinated when my doorbell rings and the app chimes through the kitchen’s hub and then my phone. The time right now is irrelevant to me, and as if in déjà vu, I once again scramble and rush to the door, not worrying about how I look.

All I want is to see him. To know he’s okay before I punch him for scaring me like this.

However, the person on the other side is not someone I expected to see today.

I don’t want to see him.

“What are you doing here?”

“Is that how you say hello to your father?” He’s looking at me with disdain, something that makes him grimace as his face has been at the end of someone’s fury. Black eye. Busted lip. His clothes are disheveled and he smells a bit, as if he forgot to put on deodorant and spent a few hours under the hot sun. “Well?”

“Why are you here?” My ponytail sometime during the night became undone, and I take the tie out and twist my shorter locks into a low bun. “We have nothing to say to each other.”

“That’s where you’re wrong.” Pushing past me, he enters my home and heads straight for the fridge. Inside he finds a frozen bag of peas and after removing his jacket and rolling up his dirty sleeves, he puts the cold vegetables against his face. “Fuck, this shit hurts.”

“Again, why are you here?” My phone is on the counter, and I press number one this time, Callum’s digits. Lindsey and Kray are out of town for a few days, taking advantage of Callum being here, to spend some time alone. Lowering the volume, I wait for the connect sign to come on, but nothing.

It never connects. As if he’s out of service range.

What the hell is going on?

I try Giannis next. The same. No call goes through.

“If you’re calling Mr. Jameson, he’s busy at the moment.”

“Busy?”

“Are you deaf now as well? What part are you not—”

“Get out.”

Ignoring my request, Dad walks to my sofa and sits back, looking at me with humor in his eyes. “Tell me, hija. Why aren’t you at work today?”

“That’s not your concern.”

“Are you ill?”

“Leave.”

“Is that why you weren’t there for Aurora? Your best friend?” The blood in my veins freezes at his words. Literally turns to ice. It’s almost as if my body shuts down and time slows; I sit down in the nearest chair, hands shaking as panic seizes my body. “You don’t know, do you? This is priceless.”

“What do you—”

“Aurora’s gone missing, Aliana. Taken right outside of the Conte House, and she’s God knows where now. Not that I care.” He shrugs before stretching his jaw, wincing a bit. Whoever did this to him got him good—I’d thank them if I could function. Is this why Callum has gone missing? But why not tell me himself? “Better for me if the little bitch and her new family are far from you. The Jamesons have cost me enough trouble with the Gaspar’s boss.”

“How can you be so cold?” Tears fall from my eyes and my chest aches, the pain intensifying. “You disgust me.”

“I’d watch that mouth if I were you. The Gaspar men don’t tolerate that in their women. Then again, maybe that’s what you need. Someone to smack the rebellion out of you.”

“Leave,” I say, voice low and shaky. “Leave, and don’t come back.”

“Fine. Have it your way.” My father stands and after tossing the soiled pack of peas on the floor by my feet, he grabs his jacket and slips it on. He fixes his lapel, buttons the front, and walks over with the calmness of a monk. For a moment or two, he stands there silently; I feel his angry gaze on me, but then two fingers appear in my line of sight and my face is tipped upward.

The asshole smiles down at me, happy in my misery.

“I wish you weren’t my father.”

“And yet, you’re stuck.” Those same two fingers tap my cheek hard. “You will marry Flavio Gaspar and save your family, Aliana Camila Rubens. You will not fight me on this. You will spread your legs when he wishes. And you will continue to steal what we decide.”

“So that he doesn’t kill you? What does he know that you don’t want getting out?” I strain my head back in time and he misses, the slap meant for my face catching nothing but air. He tries again, but my front door slams open and Giannis rushes in with Dwayne in tow.

“I was just leaving.”

“You do that, Mr. Rubens,” Giannis steps between us, and I catch sight of a small line of stitches over his right eyebrow. There’s also a wrap around his wrist. Did someone come after him, too? “Your driver is waiting outside.”

“Listen to him. Leave.” Dwayne takes a step closer to me as well. “It’s the smart move, and you know it.”

“Of course. I’ll be on my way.” Dad eyes Dwayne and rethinks his attempt to lean down and kiss my cheek. Any other time, it’d be funny to watch him bend and stand like a scared puppet, but I’m shaking hard in my seat, gripping each armrest tightly. “We’ll be in touch, Aliana. Just remember what I said: you are a Rubens, and the weight of making amends lies on your shoulders alone.”

The door closes after him a few seconds later. We remain quiet.

That is, until I get up and run to the bathroom, emptying the liquid in my stomach. I’m dry heaving so bad, crying, and the bitter taste of bile only makes it worse.

“Tell me it’s a lie,” I whimper, begging Giannis. “Tell me he’s just a lying piece of garbage.”

“I’m sorry, Ali.” Giannis holds my hair back from my face with his uninjured hand. “We heard, and once the doctor gave me the okay, I came right over.”

It took a while for the nausea to abate and my stomach to stop clenching as if still heaving, but it did, and I stand on shaky legs. He helps me a bit, and I walk over to the sink after flushing the toilet to brush my teeth.

“What happened to you?” I’m watching him through the mirror, my body leaning heavily on the cabinet. The tears won’t stop. The tightness in my chest won’t lessen any time soon.

Giannis chuckles a bit, rubbing the back of his neck with his other hand. “Small fender-bender. I’m fine.”

“You sure?”

“Yes.”

“Okay.” I’m still a bit queasy but manage to get a grip on myself and walk out of the room. The living room is empty, Dwayne nowhere to be seen. “Where’s—”

“Making sure your dad left.”

“Thanks.”

“She’s going to be okay. They’ll find her.”

“They?” Please tell me Casper and Callum know where she is.

“The Jameson family,” he whispers, pulling me into a tight hug. Tears fill my eyes, relief settling into my bones. “They know where she is, Ali. They’ll bring her home.”