8 - Trust issues

*Adrena's point of view*

''Trust, by Adrena Calero

When they tell you, 'I love you', do you believe them? Do you believe their words to be true, or do you only hear them as irrelevant words, coming from a liars mouth? I don't know how trust works, and I'm not sure if I understand the concept.

''We will find a home soon Adrena'' my mother would say, at least once a week. ''Your daddy loves you, he just needs time''. So many lies, and I still trusted her so deeply, that I now find myself being unable to separate lies from reality.

Sometimes I don't even think people are aware, that they are lying – it comes so natural, that It slips out of their mouths without hesitation. I lie too. I lie about my age, my job, my life. I lie about how I feel, how I see myself and how I see others. And just as easy as my lie was to tell, just as quickly they believe them.

Naomi once told me, when we were about sixteen years old, that I had to find trust. Trust in the little things, like the genuine smile from the woman at the store or the compliment I get, when I'm at a party. This way, life seems a bit more bearable. I've worked on it since. But the hardest thing is, that I have to trust myself. Trust that I too, will someday be at peace.''

-------------------------------------

He just left. Lorenzo – I liked his name. I was still sitting on his bed, as I could feel my strength slowly return to my body. That green juice really worked wonders.

I got up, and began searching for my purse – I just had to tell Naomi about what happened. I searched every corner and every inch of the room – which took a while, the room was enormous – but it was nowhere to be found.

So I walked out into the hallway, and realized that his bedroom was probably the smallest room in the apartment. I gasped, as I took it all in. I've never stepped foot in such a home before. The marble floors stretched as far as my eye could see, and the walls were covered with huge windows, that had a full view of Brooklyn.

I got to the living room, which contained several white leather couches, a fireplace and a bar. Lorenzo wasn't just rich, he was like ''rich-rich.'' Opera was playing from an old gramophone above the fireplace, which really set the scene.

''Good morning, miss,'' someone behind me said, with a tiny voice. I turned around. A woman, perhaps in her fifties stood behind me, with her arms behind her back. She was dressed in a classic maid outfit, the ones you've seen in old movies. I smiled and greeted her back.

''You must be Simone?'' I asked.

''Simona, miss.'' She corrected, with an innocent smile.

''Oh, I'm so sorry! Simona - got it. This is a really nice place! Wow. Do you work for Lorenzo?'' I asked politely, even though I already knew the answer.

''Yes, I work here. I clean, make dinner and such things. And you are one of his.. girlfriends?''

I laughed. It didn't surprise me that she asked, he seems like the type who had a few of those.

''No, not really. We don't actually know each other, it's a long story. I was actually just looking for my purse, have you seen it? It's a small shoulder bag, with black leather and rhinestones.''

''I'm sorry, but I haven't seen it. Maybe you lost it last night?''

Shit, I didn't even think about that. If I was so blacked out, that I managed to puke all over myself, then losing my bag didn't seem that unbelievable.

''Probably. Can I borrow a phone then? I have to call my friend.''

Her facial expression changed. ''No, Mr. Mancini doesn't have any phones in the house. Come with me to the kitchen, I'll make you breakfast, okay?''

I wondered why he didn't have such a basic thing as a phone here, when he literally had a statue that looked like a tiger standing in the hallway.

''That would be nice! But I can make it myself, you don't have to do that, you don't work for me. But if you will, you can show me the kitchen?''

Her tiny hands waved at me, as she leaded me towards the kitchen. I wasn't surprised about the size of it. Not only did he have a huge fridge, he had a fridge only for wine and liquor. Every minors dream.

''Sit, miss'' she said, as she pointed at the barstool, that stood up against a kitchen island in the middle.

She began fidgeting around with pots and pans, and took out some meat and eggs from the fridge.

''Do you eat meat, miss?'' she asked politely. I've never been treated so royal before, and I was ashamed to admit that I kinda liked it.

''I don't actually – I'm a vegetarian. But seriously, Simona you don't have to cook for me!''

She ignored me, and began frying eggs on a pan. ''You eat eggs, right? You are petite, you need protein!'' she insisted. I laughed, and nodded.

While she prepared my breakfast, I began to think about this whole situation. As I was becoming more and more aware of my current state, I couldn't help but wonder why I couldn't just go home. Lorenzo was so strange when he left – why couldn't I even walk out on the balcony?

''You probably know Lorenzo better than me – or, I don't actually know him at all. How the hell is he able to afford this place? He's what, twenty five?''

She turned off the stove, and walked towards me with a plate in her hand.

''You want some juice?'' she asked. I scouted at the fridge with liquor in it, and smirked.

''I would much rather have a mimosa, if that's possible?''

She smiled and began preparing it for me. I was hungover, and I probably shouldn't drink, but something told me that I needed it.

''I have a lot of things I need to do, before Mr. Mancini gets back, so please eat and then go back to your room-'' she said, as she neared the hallway.

''Wait!'' I almost shouted. We both looked surprised by my sudden reaction.

''Yes miss?''

''Please, just tell me – what does he do for a living?''

She sighed and took a seat at the barstool next to me. She looked rather concerned, but I could tell that she tried to hide it.

''He doesn't tell me that sort of things. I just work here, clean up after him and that's it.''

Something wasn't right. She didn't even believe her lie herself.

''Simona, I need to know if I'm in danger. I know you probably signed a contract, but from one woman to another, please just give me something to work with.''

''He won't tell me. But I know that it's not legal, that's for sure. But he's a good man deep down, he just have some… issues. You are not in danger, Mr. Mancini would never hurt a woman, and especially not someone as pretty as you, miss.''

I smiled by her compliment. I was aware that she only told me that I'm beautiful, because she tried to distract me from my questions. Besides – IF she meant it, then how does that describe him? That he wouldn't harm me, because I'm beautiful? What about girls who aren't?

''Now, I really have to get back to work. Eat!'' she said insistently.

As I finished eating, I went back to his bedroom. I was actually freezing, as I was still only wearing the black satin dress. I went for the drawer that he pulled out a towel from earlier, and searched for a sweater, or something that could keep me warm.

I got the impression that Lorenzo was kind of a perfectionist – everything was stacked in perfect order, separated by colors and brands. As I went through his clothes, a hard object fell down onto the marble floor. It almost hit my toe.

What the fuck? I picked up, what turned out to be a… gun?

Why did he have a gun in his apartment? Something about it fascinated me, yet sent chills down my spine. It was black, but something written in an foreign language stood on the side of it, in gold letters.

''Fratellis''

What the hell is 'Fratellis'?

Under normal circumstances, I would look it up on my phone, but as I didn't have it, I had to be more creative. What would Naomi do, in this situation?

I looked around, and saw the three computers lined up on his desk. With the gun still in my hand, I pressed a random letter on the keyboard.

It was locked with a passcode – of course.

''You won't find anything there..''

I gasped.

''Lorenzo! You're back?'' I quickly hid the gun behind my back, so he wouldn't know that I went through his stuff.

He stood by the door, and leaned against the doorframe. His arms were crossed, and I noticed that the veins on his arms and hands were very visible. Even if he is a psychopath, he's one of the most handsome men I've ever seen. He was tall, muscular, and had very attractive features in his face. He had such a sharp jawline and cheekbones, that I could cut paper on it.

''You like what you see, Adrena?''

My body reacted quicker than I did, as a strange feeling I've never felt before went through me. I liked that he said my name.

''Not at all. Now, tell me – where were you? Can I go home now?''

He laughed, and walked towards me, still with his arms crossed.

''I was having brunch with my family – it's a tradition. And yes, my driver will take you home in an hour.''

I was relieved, and yet a little disappointed. I really did want to go home, but I also liked it here – beside the fact that I was currently hiding a gun behind my back.

''Great,-'' I mumbled – ''Simona made me a lovely breakfast by the way.''

''That sounds so lovely!'' he answered, in an ironic tone – ''now tell me, Adrena. Why do you have my gun behind your back?''

Fuck. I'm such an idiot. I walked towards him, with a firm grip around the gun. I was terrified – I've never held a gun before, but it seemed so natural in my hand for some odd reason.

''Why do you have a gun in your home, Lorenzo?'' I replied, as I raised my eyebrow. I tried to look tough, but what happened next made me lose my poker face. He quickly leaned in, grabbed the gun and emptied it for bullets. Clearly it wasn't his first time doing that.

''That's cute. Now, please sit –'' he pointed towards the bed. I did as he said, I was too afraid to do otherwise.

As he seated himself, yet again, on the red velvet chair, I caught a glimpse of his eyes. He looked so tired, and actually miserable. Something told me, that he didn't 'just' have brunch.

''Are you ok?'' I almost whispered concerned.

He sighed, and scratched his black stubble.

''Yes, absolutely – but there is something that's been messing with my mind, all fucking day - why did you lie about your parents last night?''

I actually do remember that part. Dimitri wanted me to tell something about myself, and I chose to lie. It was pretty funny, actually. I smiled by the thought of it, but it quickly went away, as I went back to reality – he drugged me, not long after, and if the man in front of me didn't save me, I would be somewhere a lot worse today.

Wait? How did he know that I was lying?

I cleared my throat. ''I'll tell you, if you tell me how you know that I was lying?''

He looked surprised, and I sensed a little smile on his lips.

''I have a radar for bullshit – been dealing with that all my life'' he replied.

If he knew how much bullshit I've been through, he would get a headache. He continued: ''Go on, tell me your secret, Adrena.''

Fuck, why did I feel this way, when he said my name? Stop being such a simp.

''Well, it's not really a story you tell at parties. I don't really tell anyone, not because it's a secret, but people just get uncomfortable.'' I hesitated.

''I promise you, I won't feel uncomfortable. You have no idea how bad stories I've heard. Bet this one ain't that bad.''

Well, I guess he just lost a bet.

''So, first of all, my parents doesn't live outside New York in a camper. Second of all, we're not close – at all. My dad lives in Chicago the last I've heard, and my mom is.. well I heard that she died a year or so ago.''

He didn't say anything, he just looked at me, with his big brown eyes. There was something different about him. He didn't have those eyes that say ''I feel sorry for you'' or ''poor girl''. Instead, they looked genuinely caring, and something told me that he has been through stuff too. I guess you can see that through their eyes.

''That's really fucked up. What about before she died? Were you close then?'' he asked.

''When I was twelve, my mother and I had to live on the streets. We mostly stayed at home shelters around New Jersey. But I moved in with my best friend Naomi and her dad, when I was fourteen. I stopped talking with her, around that time. She was a drug addict.''

''Are you mad at her, then?''

''No, never mad. But I'm sad that her life turned out that way. She was not strong enough to persist, and being a single mother is hard, and I wasn't always the easiest child to deal with.''

He got up, and seated himself next to me on the bed. He carefully laid a hand on my thigh, and gave me a comforting smile. He squeezed it a little, but it wasn't uncomfortable. It actually felt really nice, I felt safe around him.

''I wasn't prepared for that story – I want to say that I'm sorry, but that doesn't fucking change anything. But I do wish that things were different for you.''

I gave him a smile back, and without having any control of my body, I placed my hand on his, and dug my fingers in between his.

''What about you? What's your story? I'll bet you 5 $, that It won't be as shitty as mine!'' I laughed, trying to cover up for the tears cornering in my eyes.

''You'll be surprised. Shit, well there ain't much to tell. I was born here in Brooklyn, but my roots go back to Italy. I moved to this apartment, when I was fourteen. Been living here ever since-'' he said, as he untangled his fingers from mine, and spread his arms out wide.

''Fourteen?! Wait, why?'' I replied, in shock.

''My father saw it as a way to ''build my character'' and become a man. I didn't complaint, I mean, living here as a teenager was fucking incredible.''

''But how did your father afford this place? Its.. well, it's huge!''

He hesitated for a second, and said; ''Well, he's… -'' he interrupted himself, and looked at the golden watch on his wrist. He got up, and placed both his hands on my thigs, so our faces were right across from each other.

''My driver is here now. He'll take you home. I'll walk you out.''

Was he totally unaware of the fact, that I was wearing nothing else but a black silky dress?

''Excuse me – I can't go out like this-'' I stated, as I pointed at what I was wearing. He smirked, and walked towards his dresser.

He picked out a black hoodie, and handed it to me.

''I need some pants too, Lorenzo…'' Not in a million years would I go out like this!

He also got me a pair of black sweats. They were way to big, but I managed to tie them in.

I asked him if he'd seen my purse. No surprise, he confirmed that I lost it at the club.

We took an elevator down to the main street, and before I walked inside the car, Lorenzo grabbed my shoulder and turned me around, so I was facing him.

''You are so beautiful, Adrena. I don't think you have any idea. You and I could really have been something, if it wasn't for.. you know. Can I give you a proper Italian goodbye?''

Why did he act like this had to be the last time we saw each other? He could literally just get my address, or my phone number?

''Uhm, I guess. But why are you saying goodby-'' he broke my sentence, and kissed me. He placed one hand on my cheek, and used his other arm to pull me closer to him. I felt the warmth from his body on my chest.

His fingers traveled up my spine, from underneath his hoodie, and each time his fingers gently touched a new spot, it felt like lightning bolts inside of me. He added more pressure on my lips. I was spellbound, and not at all prepared to walk inside that car.

''Fuck'' Lorenzo groaned, as he suddenly pushed me away. He dried off his lips, and noticed that I was biting into mine.

''Don't do that to me, Adrena. Not when you are about to leave..''

I leaned in for a second kiss, I was suddenly an addict desperate for more.

I bit gently into his lower lip, and sucked on it. He seemed to enjoy it, as he instantly pulled me closer and began running his fingers through my hair.

''Get a room losers!'' someone yelled from behind. It was two teenage boys, who were standing right behind us. Both me and Lorenzo began laughing, but I was also mortified.

''Goodbye, Adrena.'' He said, as he kissed the tip of my nose.

''Goodbye, Lorenzo.''

I got inside the car, and greeted the driver. He also looked Italian, and wore a black suit. Outside, Lorenzo was standing next to the car, with a worried look on his face. Why? We just kissed – definitely not the look I was hoping for.

Suddenly the car started to drive, and I turned my head around, to catch a last glimpse of him, but he was gone.

The drive from Brooklyn to New Jersey is about 46 miles, so I knew I had a rather long trip ahead. The driver – he told me his name was Ricky – played some opera, so I wasn't able to have a conversation with him, the music was really loud.

''Is there any paper and maybe a pen in this car?'' I yelled from the backseat. I didn't have my phone, and I easily gets bored, so I figured that I could spend the time writing.

He handed me an old receipt, and a black pen – better than nothing, I guess.

''The first kiss, by Adrena Calero.

Even the biggest mistakes

Could be healed by a kiss

Even our biggest fights

Could be solved by a kiss

Even the worst day

Could be better, with a kiss

Like fire within my bones

Like my soul has returned to the clouds

When the world burns

A kiss turn into water

Sometimes, a kiss

Feels like the only real thing,

In this world. ''

-----------------

I've been kissed before. More times than I could count, even if a gun was pointed to my head, demanding an answer. I love kisses, they decide whether there's chemistry or if it's doomed to be a failure.

And I felt like such a loser, overthinking the episode with Lorenzo, that happened only 30 minutes ago – but it felt different from any other kiss I've ever had. Maybe it was because I felt different, maybe not. But I needed him, even after just two kisses. What a crazy thing, what a crazy thing a kiss can do…

An hour passed, and we were finally in New Jersey. The familiar buildings greeted me from outside the car window, and even though I thought of Lorenzo, I still needed to go home.

''Sir, do you know my address?'' I asked, as I realized that I never gave it to him.

He just nodded. Guess he's the silent type.

As we came closer to my street, I felt like he was driving too fast, to be able to turn.

''I'm sorry, but in case you forgot, you have turn right at the next traffic lights.''

Instead of doing as I said, he speeded up, and drove right past it. Maybe he knew a short cut?

The music faded out, like he was taking the volume down. I looked up, and realized that a thick glass scrolled up from the driver's seat, which separated us, so I couldn't see him. What was he doing?

I tried to knock on the glass, to try and get his attention, but he ignored me. I panicked – what the fuck is happening?

By the next traffic light, I decided to try and open the door – at least I would be able to walk home from here.

It was locked. I tried both sides, but I couldn't unlock them.

Fuck. What kind of sick joke is this?

''If you can hear me Ricky, please just remove the glass, I'm sorry if I talked to much, i promise I'll keep my mouth shut! Just please, don't scare me like this!''

He still ignored me. I began knocking on the glass, as hard I could, hoping that it would break – it didn't it was bullet proof.

All of a sudden, a voice appeared from the stereo – it was Ricky.

''Calm down. If you try and do anything stupid, then I'll kill you, so don't try and fool me girl. You are not going home.''

What did he mean, 'I'm not going home'? Of course I'm going home, Lorenzo got me this car so it could drive me straight home?

Suddenly, the car stopped. I looked out the window, while shaking uncontrollably from my hands. I wasn't at all in my area, I was in Millburn.

What's in Millburn? The only thing I've heard about Millburn, is their high population rate of people from…

Russia.

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