He's Strong. He's Hot. He's Foreign. (And He's in the Mafia?)

“Oh so he’s leaving you?!” Jeremiah laughed, “Just goes to show, Janey…you should always listen to your big brother”

“Peter’s not leaving! He’ll be back by tomorrow” I exclaimed, letting all of my anger out on the dishes, scrubbing them vigorously.

“Whatever, baby, I think he was just trying to break it to you easy” Jeremiah snapped, kicking my butt, making me jump up and shriek, “Can you lay off my ass?!”

“What? Is it still sore from playing around with Peter?” he teased, giving my hair a tug.

“Shut up douche bag” I muttered, throwing the sponge in the sink and storming off into my room to call Peter.

“I haven’t even left Kentucky yet and you’re calling me” he sighed.

“I feel so…exposed without you here” I mumbled, my forehead against the cold wall of my room.

“Darashya…you can protect yourself without me” he chuckled, “I can’t always be right next to you, Janey, no matter how much I would like to be”

“Just hurry up, Peter, I hate it here” I sighed, falling back on my bed. I don’t even know why I bothered sometimes. Jeremiah wasn’t even remotely happy to see me and hadn't changed a bit, and neither had Gabriel. Mitch and Diane only frightened me. They reminded me of what I could have become with Gabriel.

“Hate is a strong word, Janey” I could almost hear the smile in his voice, “There is always good in people, it’s just not quite as apparent in some”

“How can you be so nice and then drive off and kill someone? It just doesn't make any sense”

“It’s my job, honey, just like running the hotel” he explained, his voice tired.

“There is a HUGE difference between listening to old ladies complain about not having enough shampoo in their bathrooms and killing people” I said with a laugh.

“What I mean, Jane, is that I treat each as just business, the point is to never mix business with pleasure, you know?”

“I hate this whole situation, why couldn’t I have gone with you? Jesus Christ I would rather help you kill this guy then spend another night in this fucking house” I whispered, my voice cracking as a tear escaped out of my eye and trickled down my face.

“Don’t speak that way, darashya” Peter snapped, “I don’t want to even think about you going near a weapon”

“Besides, you have a lot of unfinished business to settle with your family, especially your brother”

“I have the stupidest ideas, we could have been married by now if we just went to Vegas” I groaned, sinking down to the floor with my back against the wall.

“Nothing worth accomplishing is ever easy to accomplish but I have to admit you are making it harder for yourself” I could almost hear him smiling, “Now go get some sleep, my baby needs her beauty rest”

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When I awoke that morning, the bright Kentucky sun was pouring in through the windows, sending beams of light throughout my whole room. The glass figurines I had once collected sat on a high shelf, becoming illuminated and almost sparkling. Jeremiah had tried to break my favorite one once, the ballerina en pointe, her graceful arms spanned out at either side of her, like wings. Aunt Dinah caught him though and made him give it back to me. That was probably the only time she had ever been a disciplinary figure. Although she would never admit it, she was too scared of Jeremiah to punish him. She spent most of her time at Uncle Bob’s house and eventually moved in there, leaving me alone with Jeremiah. That wasn’t soon before I fled from this gruesome house myself.

“Are you gonna stay in bed forever, Janey?” Jeremiah said, walking into my room, hands in his pockets.

“Thanks for knocking” I snapped, sitting up in bed, “Why is it any of your business?”

“I’m taking you up on your offer” he smirked, looking around my room, “You said you’d help me out.”

“Sorry, but the offer expired two days ago” I yawned, getting up and rubbing my eyes.

“I haven’t been in this room since you left” he murmured, studying my Beatles posters. For once, his eyes were clouded over and he was staggering with drunkenness. I slowly got up and made my way to my dresser, watching him the whole time. He was never like this. He was never calm. He never just looked at things. He made fun of them or mutilated them in some way, but never just looked.

“What’s your problem?” he growled, almost defensively, when he caught me staring at him.

“You are in my room and…I don’t know you’re not being your usual abusive drunken self” I said, backing away cautiously.

He rolled his eyes and said, “Jane, I don’t do abusive and drunken at eight o’clock in the fucking morning”

“What about the time when you poured ice water on my head to wake me up like 3 years ago?! You were definitely a morning person then!” I exclaimed.

He chuckled and said, “So are going to help me with the horses or not?”

“Could you at least let me change out of my pajamas?! Jesus Christ!” I threw a sneaker at him. Jeremiah deftly caught it and threw it back with triple the force, hitting my right knee, making me wince and growl, “Since when were you a fucking ninja?”

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As soon as I had kicked Jeremiah out of my room, I quickly changed into some jean shorts, a pale blue flannel shirt and some Keds. I ran my fingers over a diamond encrusted locket Peter had given me for our two month anniversary. Yeah, a whole two months. Back then, I wasn’t sure what I had given to Peter that had warranted such a beautiful and expensive gift. I didn’t accept it at first. The locket started the first of our few and short-lived fights. Well, our fights were more like compulsive outbursts from me which were calmed in a few quick moments by Peter’s calm touch.

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“I’m a cheap date Peter! I’ll admit it! You could’ve bought me a couple of tin cans for earrings and I would have been happy!” I exclaimed after opening his anniversary present. I was mostly angry at him for surprising me because I thought people only celebrated “two month anniversaries” and shit like that in romance movies, and I hadn’t gotten him anything.

“But darashya, you know I am not cheap” he smirked, holding my chin between his thumb and forefinger, “Really, why are you so upset?”

“I…I didn’t get you anything…” I mumbled, pushing him away, “And seriously Peter?! Real diamonds?! This is something you get your wife on your 25th anniversary!”

“Excuses excuses…” he laughed, wrapping one arm around my waist and pulling me close, so his lips were right against my ear, “Just enjoy it Janey, enjoy being in love, the only thing I could possibly ask from you is your love”

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My fingers trembled at the memory as I hooked the clasps together. The locket was still empty, partially because I couldn’t find a small enough picture of Peter to fit in the locket.

I walked outside, feeling the cool morning breeze on my face. I had missed the country air, which was much more refreshing than the musky smell of city air.

I sauntered over to the barn, listening to the horses neighing and hoofing the ground. I wasn’t allowed around the horses much when I was younger, mostly because I was kicked in the chest by one when I was four. That was the cause of my breathing problems which eventually led to my asthma.

Going into the barn, I was overcome by the smell of horse manure and hay. Jeremiah was pouring water all over a positively beautiful painted horse, made of auburn and white.

“Hey Janey you mind giving me a hand?” he asked, a scowl on his face.

“No can do, Mr. Frowny-Face, I’m going into town” I said, not able to hold back my grin. Jeremiah was so amusing/abusive when he didn’t get his way.

“And who gave you permission?” he asked, dropping his bucket and walking up to me, leaving the horse to clomp its hooves impatiently.

“Well, me being twenty-one…a full-fledged adult…I kinda gave myself permission” I said sarcastically, “I have some things to take care of before the wedding anyways”

“I don’t recall ever approving your engagement either” he said, stroking his chin and looking past me, out at the fields.

“Not needed! Thanks for the concern but no thanks! Bye!” I exclaimed turning on my heels and marching out of the barn.

“Have fun walking Janey!” I heard Jeremiah shout from behind me, total disdain in his voice.