“Don’t say his name! It’s hard enough to ask without thinking who I’m asking about,” I grit out as my friend starts giggling.
“Of the two of us, I figured I’d be the one who struggled to talk about sex, Frankie.” I snort because she has a point. “Carlo hasn’t forced you to do that, has he?” she asks, seriously.
“No, nothing has been forced on me. I’m enjoying the bedroom aspects of my marriage.”
“Good. Now, ask away and just know I’m sitting here blushing.”
“That makes two of us. So… you’ve tasted hisstuff,I assume.”
“Yes.”
“Does it leave a horrible aftertaste? Is your mouth dry the next morning?”
Cat makes a noise that sounds suspiciously like choked-back laughter. “No, that’s not something I’ve ever experienced. Was last night your first time tastingthat?”
“Kind of? Actually, he didn’t come in my mouth. There was some salty liquid, but it wasn’t much-”
“His precum?”
“Jesus, Cat. I can’t believe we’re talking about this.” She snickers. “I didn’t really think that was the cause, but I had this same weird taste and dry mouth the morning after our first time having sex and-”
“Your mother just walked into the room,” Cat whispers over the phone, cutting my rambling thoughts and this particular conversation short.
“Sweet Mary,” I groan.
“I can’t wait to see you in a few days.”
“Same. Tell Mom I’ll call her tonight. I need a few hours before I can hear her voice after talking about jizz. Even if it’s over the phone.”
Cat laughs loudly before telling me goodbye.
I’ve had a lingering headache all day, ever since I woke up with the terrible taste in my mouth. I’d asked Faro to bring me back home after class before my rehearsal this afternoon where I’m singing a duet with a young man from the theater program.
I go to the bathroom to get something for my headache and notice an unfamiliar prescription bottle in the medicine cabinet.
Two tablets at bedtime. Do not operate motor vehicles or heavy machinery while using. Possible side effects – fatigue, foul taste, dry mouth, headache.
This must be the reason for my symptoms today. Carlo gave me a sedative to help me sleep after my awful nightmare. Between my worry for Ronan and my guilt over concealing things from Carlo, it’s not surprising. I was grateful for his care last night, but I don’t care for the side effects of the medicine.
I start to put the bottle back in the cabinet when I see the additional note, a handwritten scribble in permanent ink –
Dissolves in liquid. Safe to consume alcohol if only one tablet is given.
Sedatives with alcohol? Why the hell would any legitimate pharmacist include a note like that?
Unless it wasn’t a legitimate pharmacist.
The Trio has its own doctors who see to bullet wounds and other things that might draw attention from law enforcement. Considering all the drugs the mafia produces and sells, I’m sure they can get their hands on any medication.
“Fatigue, foul taste, dry mouth, headache,” I murmur, reading the label again as a prickle of suspicion forms in my mind.
Thinking back on the morning after that first time with Carlo, the morning of my wedding, I remember how out of it I felt when I woke. The same foul taste, a pounding headache and lingering disorientation.
“Dissolves in liquid. Safe to consume with alcohol if only one tablet is given.” He drew me a hot bath and brought me red wine with some food. It tasted a little… off. I open the prescription bottle and lick one of the tablets. I slam the bottle back down, scattering them. “Son of a bitch!”
***
I am livid as Faro drives me back to school an hour later. He keeps shooting curious glances in the rearview. With my performance looming, I use that as an excuse not to talk, but I’m simply too angry for a rational conversation right now, and what good will it do me to rant at Faro over what Carlo did? It only proves how naïve I am. No, if there’s a fight coming over the sedative and how he knocked me out so he could manipulate everything, I’ll talk to my husband. God, I want to wring his neck!
