His: Tony (The Sabatini Family 2)

Her eyes are so soft, it makes it easier to tell her. “I haven’t even wanted to. We didn’t have sex for almost two years toward the end. With Eddie, it never felt good. I always counted down in my head until it was over. Which is why I don’t think your idea will work. If I don’t like sex, how will I convince Tony I want sex with him? I’m also pretty sure I won’t be able to hide my hatred enough for him to buy that I’m attracted to him.”

“Look, I know you think you hate Tony, but what he’s like in real life is completely different than how you think he is. Tony Sabatini is...” She trails off as she blushes.

I’ve never seen her blush in my life. Unease stirs in me that she might be right.

“He’s kind, thoughtful, considerate. And I’m not exaggerating, he genuinely loves women—not just to fuck. That’s the thing, he doesn’t fuck, he like makes love. It’s why he is so selective; it’s not just about getting off for him. Pretty much every woman in the building wants him but he’s been with maybe three or four of them. There have been very few women he’s even accepted blow jobs from. He doesn’t feel right letting a woman suck him off without giving her pleasure in return. Those women beg for him to use them, though. He doesn’t treat us like whores. His men aren’t allowed to speak badly to us or about us, clients either.”

A small sigh. “The only way you’re going to get close enough to Tony Sabatini to be able to pull a gun on him and get away with it, is to get him to want to be close to you. Any other way and it’s suicide. There is no time or place he’s alone enough for you to do it. I always knew your mom fucked with your head, but I didn’t know about Eddie. They were both awful people. You are beautiful and sweet, and if you barely try, you’ll have Tony begging to get into your panties. I’ll help you. You can do it.”

I want to argue with her, but it’s one of the things I always loved about Lisa, her honesty. She didn’t say stuff to be nice. She also didn’t believe in little white lies. If she thought I was pretty enough to get Tony Sabatini, then maybe she was right. “You really think?”

“I know.” She tugs my ponytail. “It will mean a little bit of work. We definitely need to get your hair cut and clean up those eyebrows.” She tilts her head and studies me. “And shopping, we need to get you into clothes your size. Big girls always get it wrong, buying clothes they think hides their body actually makes you look bigger. I’m not going to put you in daisy dukes or anything with your ass hanging out. Tony prefers women to dress classy, even though he’s a tit man, he doesn’t like them on show.”

What a relief. I’ve always dressed conservatively. I wouldn’t be able to pull off anything sexy.

“I’ll call Tony tonight and tell him you’re looking to move in and become a working girl. He’ll let me know when he can meet with you. He has to approve you. While you’re with him we’ll work on getting him to want you.” She sighs. “I hate to ask, at the same time it’s kind of important on the appointments I make for tomorrow. Sh

ould I make one for you to get waxed?”

I blush as I shake my head. “No, um, Eddie didn’t like any hair there so he made me get laser hair removal.”

Another sigh. “What a complete and utter dick. I’m so glad he’s gone. Maybe Tony will show you what it’s like to be with a man who actually gives a fuck about his woman.”

I fight not to shake my head at the absurdity of her words. I’ll only be with Tony long enough to get him comfortable enough for me to kill him. “One thing about your plan, you said you have to pay five thousand dollars for a month’s rent. I don’t have the money. I’m beyond broke. I’ll be charging everything we do tomorrow as it is. I have one credit card for emergencies that has a two thousand dollar limit.”

“I’m going to lend you the money for the first month’s rent.” I barely have my mouth open. “Don’t argue with me. This is my idea. Besides you won’t need it. It’s purely to flash to Tony to show you’re serious when you meet with him. Once he wants you, he won’t let you move into the building. He’ll move you into an apartment close to him. You’re too far away from him here in the South Side. It took almost thirty minutes to get here, he won’t like you being farther than ten minutes away from him. He’ll visit you at the place he sets you up in.”

“Move me into an apartment to be at his beck and call for sex whenever he wants it?” Oh god, what the hell am I thinking? I cannot do this.

“Or you can forget this crazy plan and talk to a therapist the way you should,” Lisa mutters.

I shake my head fast. No. “Fine, okay.”

“Okay, meet me at the Belmont stop of the Red Line at eleven tomorrow morning. That’s as early as I can make myself wake up.” She stands and gives me another hug.

Closing the door behind her, guilt hits me all over again. I shouldn’t have asked for her help. It’s clear she genuinely likes Tony Sabatini. It wasn’t fair to play on our friendship as kids. Curling into the corner of the couch, I wrap a throw blanket around me. Was I really going to do this? Could I really do it? Pull the trigger when the time came?

Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath as I remember the night Danny killed himself.

The gunshot exploding in the middle of the night tore me from sleep. My mother screaming Danny’s name over and over. I ran to their room, there was blood everywhere. I burst into tears as I realized Danny was dead. I hadn’t been allowed to cry for long. There was no warning before my mother slapped me across the face over and over, then began beating me with a closed fist on my chest, throat, and face. Screaming at me this was all my fault.

Nothing made sense. Not the pain from her beating, the words she screamed as she beat me, or the copper smell of the blood all around me. When she grabbed my hair and began slamming my head onto the hardwood floor, the pain was brief before I slipped with relief into darkness.

At the funeral, all around me, the name I heard over and over was Tony Sabatini. It was Sabatini who had driven Danny to commit suicide. It was his fault for killing Michael. He was the cause of all the pain.

As night fell and we packed long past the time I was tired and wanting to go to bed, I dropped a box of my mom’s things. Another beating began. Curling into a ball, trying to escape the pain of my mother’s fists, I hated Tony Sabatini with a passion.

Over the next few weeks my mother cursed Tony Sabatini as often as she struck my brothers and me. It was his fault Danny was gone, if she were a man, she’d kill him herself she would mutter when she was drunk. The minute he was out of jail, she was going to find him and kill him herself.

Her hate became my hate. Once he was dead, she would be happy again. She would stop hitting us. I could sleep through the night without her shaking me awake to hear her cry about how everything had gone wrong with her life.

My father finally came to see us nine long months after Danny’s death. When he saw us, he started crying. He put us in his car and started driving and didn’t stop until we arrived at his mother’s house in St. Louis. I had never met her. She was a nice woman who spoke more Spanish than English.

At first, I was afraid of her because she always looked like she was angry. Then I realized she was trying to think and remember what words to use in English. She never yelled, she gave us hugs, and she never once hit us.

For a while, I forgot about Tony Sabatini. Until I started feeling guilty about how happy I was away from my mom. Once again, he became the star of my late-night fantasies. If he hadn’t done what he did, my mom wouldn’t have gotten so violent, and we could have stayed with her. But gradually, the guilt faded, and with it, all thought of Tony Sabatini.

We stayed with my grandmother for six years until she died. My dad came to St. Louis to bring my younger brother and me back to live with him, his new wife, and her daughter in La Grange, a suburb of Chicago. My older brother, Jason, had already joined the Army, so it was just Ricky and me.