Surviving Broken Page 7

  And she did, over and over again. “Ti amo. I love you Luca. You are my family. I won’t leave you. I promise.”

  Ignoring her battered and bloody face, anger turned to desire. He yanked at the opening of his pants, groping at the skin beneath her shirt.

  Nothing could make her feel more shameful than getting her ass beat by a man she thought cared for her, except, offering him her body as a sacrifice to survive. At that moment, JC would’ve made a deal with the devil himself to save her life.

  Tears ran down the side of her swollen face into her hair. She nodded to the drawer. “Make love to me, Luca.”

  CHAPTER SIX

  Tom Clemmins woke to the sound of his cell phone alarm singing, Woke up, Fell out of bed, Dragged a comb across my head. He quietly climbed out of bed and headed for the shower. After quickly rinsing off, he threw on faded jeans, a black T-shirt and a baseball cap. Tess slept face down in bed and Tom gingerly sat beside her, stroking her back. He swept her dark hair to the side and kissed her shoulder. “Good morning birthday girl.”

  Tess let out a sleepy laugh, snuggling into her fluffy white pillow. “Morning¸” she replied rolling over to her back. Taking notice he had dressed, she yawned asking, “Where are you off to this morning?”

  “I have to run an errand.” He bent nuzzling her neck.

  “Since it’s my birthday, I think you should climb back in here and give me a present.” Tess giggled biting her lip and azure blue eyes smiled provocatively.

  “I would love nothing more than to climb in bed with you, but I need to pick up a birthday surprise. I’ll make it up to you later. I promise.”

  “How long will you be gone? Maybe I’ll wait right here for you.” She stretched, dragging the sheet to her waist, bribing him to stay.

  “Tess.” Tom smirked pulling the sheet back up, covering her naked body. “Put those away. I have to go, and I hate to say it, but I’ll be gone most of the day. I had a bit of a…snafu with your present. If I’m running late, I’ll call. By the way, you know that beautiful gray dress I got for you the other day?” She nodded with excitement. “If I’m not back by seven o’clock, have it on and be ready to go.”

  Tess laughed and shook her head.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “You never have snafu’s. I’ll be ready. Love you.” She raised up to kiss him, letting the sheet fall to her hips.

  “You’re terrible.”

  “It was worth a try.”

  Tom kissed her lips, walked out the door and headed for the airport. There wasn’t anything in the world he wouldn’t do for Tess. Nothing. Including getting on plane, flying to Italy, picking up her daughter, and bringing her home for her birthday. Flu or no flu, Tess worried about JC and wanted her home.

  When Tess hung up her phone the previous day, Tom knew something was wrong. JC was supposed to be boarding a plane for Greece, but she called saying she had the flu again. Tess paced in circles chewing on her lip. He asked if she was okay and Tess replied yes, but when his wife appeared at the front door five minutes later with her running shoes on, he realized she was concerned about JC. Tess loved to run, but also used it as a tool to clear her head.

  Later that evening, Tess admitted she thought something was wrong, really wrong. Tom asked, “What do you think it is?”

  Tess frowned. Her voice filled with worry, “I don’t know. If she thinks she has the flu, maybe she’s pregnant. She sounded funny on the phone. You don’t think she’s doing drugs, do you?”

  “No. She barely even drinks. Maybe she truly has the flu,” Tom said convincingly, though the strain grinding in his gut told him differently.

  Boarding the private plane to Tuscany, Tom’s stomach turned waiting for take-off. He prayed Tess was wrong about JC being pregnant. Being married with children wasn’t on JC’s wish-list. And in Tom’s opinion, Luca was not the man for her. Tom did some digging into Luca’s past after Thanksgiving, but could find nothing out of the ordinary. Still, something about Luca put him off.

  After the short flight, a car waited for Tom at the airport. He slipped inside and the driver navigated his way to Luca’s apartment. Noticing a flower vender across the street, Tom stopped to grab a bouquet of yellow sunflowers, JC’s favorite. He jogged up the stairs, taking them two by two.

  Holding the sunflowers in front of the peephole, he rang the doorbell, grinning to himself hearing movement on the other side of the metal door.

  JC’s voice asked from behind the safety of the door, “Who is it?”

  Tom jiggled the flowers wrapped in tissue and deepened his already husky voice. “Flower delivery.”

  The door creaked open four inches, exposing the right side of JC’s face hidden behind sunglasses. He chuckled with a wide smile, lowering the bouquet. “I was going to bring chicken noodle soup, but I couldn’t find a decent café.”

  Tom nudged the door open a little further with his shoulder, revealing the other side of her face.

  Blinding fury swept over him in a tidal wave of hatred.

  His hand fell to his side, dropping the flowers on the ground. “Jesus Christ!” Tom shoved JC to the side, barging through the door. “Where is he? Luca!” he screamed searching through the apartment, room-by-room with heel digging strides. “I’m gonna kill that prick-”

  “Is my Mom with you?” she croaked through sobs.

  He turned his attention back to JC, who clung to the door, shaking uncontrollably. “Oh my God! Come here baby.” Tom reeled toward her, but she shirked away. He lowered his voice and raised his hands to the side, approaching her slowly. “It’s okay, JC. Come here.”

  Tears rolled down her badly beaten face as she placed her trembling palm on his heaving chest, holding him back at arm’s length. Cupping the side of her face as if it she were holding it together in pieces, she wept again, “Is my Mom here? Please tell me she’s not outside? She can’t see me like this.”

  “No. She’s not here. Your Mom’s in Greece.” With that, JC collapsed against Tom’s chest, feebly sobbing.

  Mindful not to hurt her, he took her into his arms and gently stroked her hair. Minutes passed before he could find the courage to ask, “JC, let me see you. Look at me.” He led her to the sofa, holding out his hand, asking for her sunglasses.

  She shook her head.

  “JC, give me your glasses.” He insisted in a soft voice, trying to keep his wits about him as rage fused with shock at the sight of his brutally battered daughter.

  Nothing could have prepared Tom for what lay hidden beneath her sunglasses. The right side of her face was distorted, her eye was swollen completely shut and badly bruised. A deep split on her bottom lip oozed clear liquid.

  He carefully brushed the hair out of her face. She flinched when he gently lifted her chin. “Don’t touch me!” she screeched.

  Tom grimaced pulling back his hand. “I just want to check you over. Is anything broken? Where else are you hurt, baby?”

  Her limbs vibrated violently and she started sobbing again. JC leaned forward on the sofa and threw her arms around his neck, clinging to him tightly until the tremors diminished.

  “I hurt all over, but I’m not broken.” She withdrew from his shoulder shaking her head, saying repeatedly as if trying to convince herself, “I’m not broken. I am not broken. I will not let him break me.”

  “No, that monster can’t hurt you anymore. Show me where else you’re hurt. Do you have any broken ribs?”

  JC gave a small shake of her head, wiping her runny nose on the back of her hand. “My ribs are fine but….” She grimaced with humiliation. “Shit. Oh man.”

  Begrudgingly, she unwrapped the scarf from around her neck.

  Tom’s mouth gaped open at the sight of her throat, colored purple and black. Closing his mouth, his jaw clenched tight. Every molecule in his body filled with hatred. He climbed to his feet growling, “Where is he? I’m gonna fucking kill him. Where is he?”

  “I just want to go home.”

  “We�
��re going to the hospital then the police,” he fumed with a fatherly command.

  JC shook her head. “Tom Clemmins, if you love me, you will just take me home!” she demanded.

  His lip flared in disbelief. “That is a low blow. You know I love you. That is not fair JC. I would do anything for you.”

  She reached for his fingers. “I know you would. That’s why I said it. I am not going to the police and I don’t need a damn doctor.”

  JC stood and her face turned ashen white. Tom caught her by the arm and she groaned in pain. Carefully, he rolled up one of her sleeves and then the other exposing bruises down the entire length of her arms.

  She clasped her stomach and moaned again covering her mouth with her hands.

  Tom held up his hands. “Are you gonna get si…”

  JC threw up all over the living room carpet.

  She carefully made a pass at her mouth mumbling, “Yep. Whew, I feel better.”

  He wanted to ask if she was pregnant, but decided to wait. “We’re leaving in fifteen minutes. Let’s get your stuff.”

  She hobbled toward the bedroom. “I only need two minutes. I’m already packed. I’m afraid to go outside. I don’t like looking in the mirror. I sure as hell don’t want to see my face all over some tabloid magazine.”

  “JC, no one knows I’m here. Your Mom doesn’t even know I’m here. There’s no press outside. If anything, we’ll need to be careful in Greece, but I’ll take care of it.” He glanced at her suitcases, bulging at the seams, shoved in the corner of the closet. “You’re already packed?”

  Her face crumpled painfully as she started weeping again. “I was coming home yesterday and got caught.”

  “Got caught? He did this to you because you were coming home?” Tom’s voice raised, igniting into a full-blown rage. JC flinched, staring at him through one jade green eye. On the verge of losing control, he clenched his fists at his side. “Let’s go.”

  Tom made two trips to the car with her luggage before helping JC limp down to the car. She covered her face with sunglasses, a knitted billed hat, and a scarf wrapped around her neck. They drove to the airport and he helped her struggle up the steps of the private plane.

  Tears slid from beneath her dark lenses. “Thank you for saving me,” she whispered, pressing a gentle lop-sided kiss to his cheek. A long groan of exhausted relief whooshed from her lungs as she carefully sank into the tan leather chair.

  Tom handed her ice wrapped in a hand towel. “Keep this on your cheek. I’ll be back in an hour.”

  Terror washed across her face. “You can’t leave me! He’s on set right now. You can not go after him. Luca isn’t worth it.”

  Tom knelt in front of her, tenderly stroking her hands, speaking in a low inexorable tone. “I’ll give you the choice, JC. Either I’m going to the police or I’m handling it myself. But if you think I’m going to sit back and do nothing—”

  “Promise me you won’t do anything stupid?” She held out her pinky. “I don’t want this to cause you any trouble.”

  Tom bowed his head and sighed. He’d seen JC and Tracy pinky swear numerous times, and to them, it meant as much as their word. He clasped her finger in his. “I promise I won’t kill him, but that’s all I’m going to agree to. I need to ask you something.”

  “Okay.” She winced, testing the cold rag against her jaw.

  “Are you pregnant? If there’s any chance that you are, I need to know before I see him.”

  Her face contorted and she grimaced from the agony. “No, thank God no.”

  Tom dropped his chin to his chest, blowing out the breath of air he’d been holding. “Good. Thank God. I’ll be back.”

  Tom jogged down the steps with his phone in hand. Slipping into the backseat of the car, he dialed his publicist. “Andy, I need you to do me a favor right now. I need you to call Luca Santini’s agent. I don’t care what you have to do. Lie, cheat, beg, plead, whatever it takes. But I want a meeting with him in thirty minutes. And I don’t want the little fucker to have any idea it’s me that he is going to meet with.”

  “Thirty minutes?” Andy choked on the other end of the line. “I’m good, Tommy, but I’m not that good.”

  “I don’t have time to explain. You have thirty minutes.” His jaw tensed. “I’m warning you Andy, if you can’t make this happen you’re gonna have one hell of a mess to clean up for me. Make it happen.”

  “What’s going on, Tommy?” he asked uneasily.

  “Luca Santini is about to get buried alive. There’s gonna be nothing left of that prick when I finish.”

  Forty minutes later, the black limo pulled onto the set. Tom sat in the back impatiently waiting, remembering the promise he made JC. I will not kill him. He watched with clenched fists as Luca sauntered toward the dark-tinted windows. The driver opened the door and Luca climbed inside, catching sight of Tom halfway in. The driver shut the door behind him.

  Luca’s condescending smile, turned meek in a matter of two seconds. “Hello, Tom. What are you doing here? My agent said a producer wanted to talk to me about a film.”

  “Shut up, Luca,” Tom commanded through gritted teeth. “I’m going to talk and you are going to sit there and listen. I don’t want to hear one fucking word out of your mouth. And if I do, I’m gonna go home, get my gun, come back, and blow your fucking head off. Are we clear?”

  Luca sat directly across from Tom, color slowly bleaching from his face.

  Tom leaned forward, his stance unyielding with fury. “To make it perfectly clear, the only reason I didn’t go home and get my gun first is because JC doesn’t think you’re worth the trouble. I, on the other hand, would have no problem taking my chances with a jury. Do you understand what I’m telling you?”

  Luca nodded. His eyes narrowed. Agitation oozed from every pore.

  “I’m not going to the police, yet. And, I’m not going to interfere with your career. I don’t need to meddle in your career Luca, because you’re a terrible actor and I’m sure this little cable series will be the biggest of your non-existent achievements. However, are you listening? I want you to understand exactly what I’m saying.”

  Luca nodded again. His face turned crimson as anger began to boil to the surface. He slowly tilted his head to the side, cracking his neck with a loud pop.

  “You don’t intimidate me, you little fucking piece of shit.” Tom leaned closer, inches from Luca’s face, ferociously jabbing him in the center of the chest with his pointer finger. “If you ever, ever, come near my daughter again, I will crush you like the fucking cockroach that you are. I will take everything you’ve worked for, everything you’ve wished for, and everything you’ve ever dreamed of. Hell, I’ll even take the clothes right off you back, if you come near her. If you so much as accidentally dial her phone number, Luca Santini, I’m gonna come after you! I don’t want to find out that you are even in the same country as my daughter. I’ll kill you if you come near her.”

  Tom sat back in the seat, maintaining his rage. “Get out of my fucking car!”

  Luca scooted forward reaching for the handle.

  “And that goes for the rest of my family too. Stay away from Tracy and the Giovanni’s.”

  Luca slithered out of the car.

  Tom sat back in the seat as the car pulled away heading back to the airport. Fifteen minutes into the ride, Tom phoned Andy to thank him. He followed it up with a call to his niece, Shayla.

  Shayla worked as Tom’s personal assistant for years until she had the twins. He could count on her for help when he needed it and he desperately needed help today. Tess’ birthday party was supposed to be a surprise. She assumed they were all going out to dinner at her favorite restaurant. However, caterers would be arriving in an hour and fifty of their friends would start showing up in two hours. Tom asked Shayla to handle the caterers and promised that he would arrive before guests started showing up.

  Shayla asked sardonically, “What am I supposed to do with Tess? She’s in the living room. I don
’t think I can hide all the food.”

  Tom released a strained chuckled. “Just tell her to ignore it.” Shayla laughed and he asked, “What’s so funny?”

  “I better write this down. You never screw up.”

  “Thanks for rubbing it in. I’ll see you in a bit.”

  The car arrived at the airport. Tom jolted up the stairs. JC was sound asleep in the chair. He eased into the chair across from her as the plane taxied down the runway. Watching her sleeping on the flight to Greece, Tom wondered what she’d gone through and how long had it been since she’d been able to rest soundly. Tears burned his eyes, speculating the nightmare she’d endured.

  Tom loved all three of his stepchildren, but he was closest to JC. They hit it off together from the first time Tess introduced him to her kids. Their personalities and temperament mimicked each other, creating a great father/daughter friendship.

  JC startled when the plane landed on the tarmac. “I need Advil,” she protested in a hoarse groan.

  Tom frowned. “I think you need more than Advil. You need to see a doctor.”

  She slowly shook her head no and scowled at him. “You promised.”

  “JC, you need pain meds and I think you might need a couple stitches in your lip. I don’t care if you get mad at me or not. If I don’t make you see a doctor now, your Mom will later. Then I’ll really be in trouble. I already made a call. The best doctor I know is about to make a house-call or I should say plane-call.”

  Her brows tugged together before letting out a sarcastic huff. “You never get in trouble with her. She probably thinks you walk on water.”

  His heart warmed at her attempted humor. He stood and kissed her softly on her good cheek. “Love you.”

  While in flight, Tom had phoned his doctor in Italy and persuaded him lucratively to make the trip. The doctor was waiting when they landed. He examined JC, giving her a shot and three stitches in her lip, assuring there would be no scaring.

  After watching the doctor stitch her up, Tom thought the worst was over, until the doctor asked if he needed to do a full exam.