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Good Girl(56)

By:Willow Winters

“Stop pouting like a little bitch,” Tommy groans out. “Jesus, I’m the one getting 50 to life.”

I glare at him. I’m not a Valetti. I shouldn’t even be in this bar. But I’m gonna beat the fucking piss out of him if he keeps it up.

“Just go get her, Kane,” Tommy says.

“Her shrink says it’s alright, right?” Anthony asks. Shame washes over me, along with a little guilt. I may have bugged Ava’s purse. And I may have deliberately listened to her first few sessions. But I’ve been better about giving her space. I was just worried since I hadn’t seen her.

But she was fine. She just didn’t want me.

“The doc isn’t why she’s not seeing me.” I roll the empty bottle between my palms and nod when the bartender asks if I want another.

“You want her?” Vince asks.

I stare at him dead in the eyes. “Fuck yeah, I want her.”

“Go get her.”

“What if I’m the reason for that shit?” That’s what it all boils down to, really. If I’m the one triggering all her pain, how can I expect her to stay with me?

“What if you’re not?” he asks back. “What if you let her go, and you never find out?”

“Look at you,” Anthony says, elbowing Tommy as they snicker at Vince. “We've got a fucking romantic over here.”

“Shut the fuck up!” Vince spits back with a grin. “I’m just saying, I think she’d make a great addition to the family. Mostly ‘cause my wife likes her.”

“What do you mean ‘addition’?” I question him.

“You’re not a made man yet, Kane. It’s gonna take time to put in your dues.” He points his finger at me and raises his voice. “But you sure as fuck are a Valetti.” I hear a few guys let out a cheer and one asshole claps. Poor fucker, everyone looks at him, but he just picks up his beer and smiles.

“Thanks, Vince.” I push out the words. It means a lot to be a member of the Valettis and have a family around me again. But it’s all worth nothing if Ava won’t be a part of it with me.

“She will,” Anthony says, as if he read my mind. “Just go get her.”

He says it like it’s that easy. In the past it was. If I wanted something, I just went and got it.

But this is different. If she says no, then nothing else matters.


“I’ll see you in a month, unless you need me sooner,” Dr. Mae says, as I walk to the door. I give her a tight smile and nod. I still don’t know how I feel about it. Over the past month our meetings have been fewer and fewer. Now it’ll be a month before I see her again. Unless I have a relapse. I haven’t though, since switching meds. Nothing other than normal emotional reactions, as the doctor says.

I feel insecure, but I suppose it’s normal. There aren’t any guarantees in life. My eyes fall to the floor as I shut the door behind me. Like Kane. I haven’t gathered up the courage to call him. I haven’t spoken a word to him in weeks. When I did talk to him before, it was just sobs and pleas to hold me or leave me.

I can’t imagine what his reaction would be if I called him now. If I said I was better and asked him to take me back.

He said he loved me. I feel an unbearable pain in my heart as a thought occurs to me.

I never said it back. I never told him how I felt.

As I walk down the stairs to leave the office building, I pass the clinic. I purse my lips remembering what Dr. Mae said about the nausea. I may have a stubborn bug.

Whatever it is, I need this shit taken care of. I want to eat. I’m hungry all the fucking time now. I pull the doors open and feel relief wash over me. Not a soul in the waiting room. Good, I can get in and I can get out.

I walk straight to the counter and see a young woman with blonde hair pulled into a sleek ponytail and coral painted nails tapping on the keys of her laptop. After a short moment, she looks up at me with a bright smile and asks, “Can I help you?”

“Hi there, I think I have the flu or something, and I just wanted a checkup.”

“Absolutely, I just need you to fill out these forms first, please.” She chomps on a piece of gum in her mouth and hands me a clipboard with a pen clamped at the top. I forgot about this shit. I just want to walk back there and get a prescription. Instead I give her a small smile and walk back to the waiting area to take a seat. I scroll through the lines and fill out the bare minimum.

I stare at the emergency contacts section for a long time. I want to put Kane down; I have no one else.

I want to call him, but I’m scared. I don’t know what I’d do if he’s moved on. I take in a shaky breath and calm my emotions.