Forever, For Always Read online

  Forever,

  For Always

  By: Sabrina Quinn

  Copyright © 2015 by Sabrina Quinn

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Cover designer- Sprinkles On Top Studios

  Photo courtesy of Vita Eterna Photography

  Model: Maria Jaramillo- Modeling

  Prologue

  I smile, looking down at my left hand, clutching one of the steaming lattes that I’m carrying. Seeing that diamond on my finger will never get old. That’s because it means that I will grow old with the one and only person who has never let me down in my eighteen years on this earth.

  ~

  I was born unwanted and that stigma followed me all of my life. I was not wanted by my mother or father, not by the several foster families that I bounced from until I was eight years old, and definitely not by the man who fostered me until my eighteenth birthday, just yesterday. Well, he did want me, but not in the way I had wanted. In the beginning, he used my adoption as a ploy to make himself look better after the mysterious death of his socialite wife. I was what cleaned up his image in the tabloids afterwards. I became the poor little girl who he “saved” from the foster system. It made him look like he had a heart of gold. It worked too, and oh did he soak up every last bit of that while it lasted. He was a genius when it came to marketing and business. I was dubbed by the newspapers as, “Little Orphan Addy.”

  I prefer to be called Adaline.

  Once my story became old news and Vincent Rossi’s sparkling image had returned, I only saw him when he needed me for something. Until then, I was tossed to the side and raised by the nannies. But, that meant I got to spend all of my time with my ally, Vincent’s son, Dominic. He was a year older than me and hated his father almost as much as I did. He was my protector whenever I needed him. Unfortunately in the household we were growing up in, it was all too often. He looked out for me from day one. It wasn’t until two years ago that we realized we had stronger feelings for one another. We got married yesterday in the Catholic Church. It may have just been the two of us, the priest, and a few nuns as our witnesses, but that is all we needed. All we have in this world is each other.

  Dominic and I are leaving today and never looking back on this hell we have been living. Neither of us wanted the life we were given. It may look glamorous on the outside, but it’s every bit of ugly on the inside. There’s no other way out but to run. Dominic drained what was available in his trust fund and was able to get us set up with new identities.

  Connections.

  That was one of the very few advantages he had as a Rossi. We don’t know exactly where we are going yet, but that doesn’t matter. All that matters is that we are together and won’t ever have to live another day in the Rossi name.

  ~

  I walk into the empty elevator, humming the tune of our song, It Will Rain, by Bruno Mars, and hit the button with my elbow, trying to not spill the coffee in either hand. Dominic’s apartment is on the tenth floor. He told me to meet him at nine a.m. sharp, but I’m running a little late since the impromptu coffee run took a bit longer than expected. I knew we both would need some caffeine with the amount of time we’ll be on the road today, especially running on no sleep. My blissful mood changes to on edge the instant I step off of the elevator. Something just doesn’t seem right. I head left down the hallway and I immediately notice his apartment door is ajar. I take off in a sprint to the end of the hall until I make it through the opened door.

  “Dominic!” I yell frantically when I do not see him in the kitchen or living room. I continue to run down the hall, which seems like eternity. Dropping both coffees, a blood curdling scream escapes my throat when I see him sprawled across the bedroom floor. His light blue shirt is soaked with an angry hue of red that is puddled all around him. Falling to my knees, I gently grab his face as he stares into my eyes. “What happened?” I ask through sobs.

  “He found out we were leaving,” he chokes out softly. “You’re late. Thank God you were late,” his voice trails off as he lightly pushes a strand of matted hair from my wet cheek.

  I rip the quilt off the bed beside him and press it to his chest to try to stop the bleeding. Dominic grabs my wrist as I do, pushing the quilt away from him. “You have to leave. Now. He’s looking for you. Once he finds out you are not at the penthouse, he’ll come back here to find you. He’ll kill you too.”

  “You are not dead, Dominic,” I say to him through my clenched teeth and tears. “Please don’t leave me,” I plead with him.

  He reaches for my face and pulls it to his salty lips that are drenched with both of our tears. Out of all of the stolen kisses we’ve shared over the last few years, the one we had when we became man and wife yesterday, and the passionate ones that lasted all through last night; this will be the one forever seared in my memory. “I love you, my Adaline. Forever, for always. For all of time. Please, go.”

  “I’m not leaving you!” I scream at him while gripping his shoulders as he fights to keep his eyes open.

  “Everything you need is in the backpack on the bed,” he says through short, ragged breaths. “You can do this. You can still get away.” He inhales a deep breath and grabs my hand. “Promise me you’ll never let him find you. Go and live.”

  I lean my forehead to his and weep with him. “I promise.”

  A weak smile forms on his lips, “You made me so, so happy. Thank you my Adaline.” Just as soon as my name leaves his lips, his eyes peacefully close. The grip he had on my hand loosens and his body becomes still.

  “No!” I wail as I lie over his chest, clinging to the other half of my soul. I lean up and kiss his lips and smoothly run my hand from his cheek, down to his still heart. The morning sunlight reflects from his golden pendant that is peeking from his shirt. Still sitting on my knees, I carefully remove his necklace and snap it around my own neck. I close my eyes as I lay my forehead down to his, tears dripping down on his beautiful face.

  “Addy!”

  I jolt as my name is angrily yelled from the distance.

  My pulse triples as I jump up and grab the backpack off of the bed. I throw it over my shoulders and lean down so that I can tell Dominic goodbye. “Forever, for always, for all of time,” I whisper to him as I run my palm over his saturated cheek and kiss his lips one last time. Running to the window, I throw up the glass pane and jump out onto the fire escape. Taking two steps at a time, I run as fast as I possibly can down them, hands gripping the railing so I don’t fall and tumble ten stories to my death. I jump off the last metal step- a good five feet off of the ground, without thought, landing on my butt. I immediately spot the familiar black Cadillac parked on the side of the building with the engine still running. I look around and see a dumpster, so I climb into it and hide there until I hear the car pull away with squealing tires.

  Leaning against the inside of the dumpster I try to collect my thoughts. My only reason for living is now gone. I have to get as far as I can from here. That was the last promise I made him and I refuse to break it. I unzip the backpack and pull out my only other set of clothing we had packed. I hurriedly change out of my blood soaked clothes, leaving them behind. Before I head out onto the busy streets of Manhattan, I put on Dominic’s Red Sox hat and my sunglasses. Luckily the coffee shop around the corner is still so busy that I’m able to make my way in to their restroom to clean up without any notice. Paper ticket in my hand, I make my way to the bus station as fast as I can.

  Chapter One

  Four Years Later

  Even though it is only my secon
d day on the job, I think I may already have all of the drinks memorized at the tiny Cuban coffee shop off of Calle Ocho. Not only was I lucky enough to find this place in just my first day out job hunting, but the owner agreed to pay in cash. Perfect! I lucked out coming in the day his only full time barista had blindsided him by up and quitting. He had no hesitations at all about paying in cash if I could start the very next day. After living here for a little over two weeks already and starting to run low on funds, the timing could not have been better.

  I hear the bell above the door chime as I’m putting the last batch of hard to pronounce pastries that the owner’s mother bakes each night into the display case. I slide the plastic door closed and stand up to see my first customer of the day. We open at 5:00 a.m., but I unlocked the door a few minutes early as I knew I would be busy setting up for the day.

  A tall man with short, dark blonde, hair walks in. His strong, square jaw line matched with his Miami-Dade police uniform he is wearing gives off a confident look to him. “You’re not Marisol,” he declares. Marisol comes out with an accent although he doesn’t appear to be Hispanic decent, even with the sun kissed skin tone.

  Add his unpleasant attitude to that look.

  “That I am not,” I say with slight annoyance. I was told this more times than I could count yesterday. Apparently, Marisol was a favorite barista around here. “What can I get you, sir?”

  He chuckles as he adjusts his belt. “You would think someone working at a coffee shop would be a little more of an early bird. Seems like something that should be considered when applying for this type of position.”

  I place my right hand on my hip and glare at him as I listen to his banter. “I’ll suggest that to Carlos the next time he decides to interview someone.”

  The man’s earlier chuckle has now turned to an outright laugh. “You are quite witty this early, I’ll give you that.” He slaps down a five dollar bill as he says, “Extra-large Café con Leche with an extra shot of espresso, to go please.”

  I roll my eyes as I take the bill and put it in the drawer. “Two dollars and fifty cents is your change,” I say to him as I hand it over. He smiles and puts it all into the tip jar without another word.

  I make his coffee in silence as he browses the front page of the newspaper on the counter. I hand him his cup and he arrogantly nods at me as he turns around and walks out the door.

  A head nod? Really? He was rude. I hope this isn’t how most of the people in Miami are.

  The rest of my shift flies by as quickly as it came. For being such a hole in the wall coffee joint, this place sure stays busy. Busy is good, busy is what I need. Busy is what makes me push forward. Busyness is what keeps my mind from memories. Memories like the one that kept playing in my head today after hearing Bruno Mars play through the stereo speakers of the cafe.

  ***

  “You are so beautiful,” Dominic whispers as he takes my hand. “I’m the absolute luckiest guy on earth.” The sunlight cascading through the stained glass above us reveals his usual sultry dark eyes are glassy. Even with the emerging tears, he has the biggest grin I have ever seen plastered across his face. In the ten years we have known each other, I’ve never seen him look so happy.

  "Dominic and Adaline, have you come here freely and without reservation to give yourselves to each other in marriage?” a priest wearing his white robe and vestment, standing directly in front of us asks.

  “Yes,” we both say in unison.

  We recite the rest of the vows, promising one another for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do us part. No one knows how true these words really are for us.

  “You may exchange a kiss,” the priest tells us at the end.

  Dominic cups my face with both hands and kisses me fiercely. This kiss is the beginning of a new chapter, a new us. No one can take this moment away. He grabs my hand as we run down the aisle together. With his other hand, he hits a button on his iPhone and the chorus begins to play right on cue.

  “Cause there will be no sunlight, if I lose you baby.”

  I’m now in a fit of giggles. “You really love this Bruno Mars guy, huh?”

  “He just has all the right words, baby,” Dominic says as he pulls me into a tight embrace once we reach the outside of the chapel. He kisses me once again, but more passionately this time.

  “Dominic, take me home,” I lustfully say to him, eager to spend my first night ever with him.

  We listen to the new Bruno Mars cd on repeat the entire night, never getting any sleep as our first night as a married couple. By eight in the morning we force ourselves away from each other and out of bed. We have to get everything together to leave here by nine o’clock sharp to make it to the bus station in time.

  Dominic slips out two driver’s licenses from the small front pocket of the black backpack and hands them to me.

  “What are these?” I ask while examining them.

  “We have to change our names if we don’t ever want him to find us. I paid a lot of money for these, they’re legit.”

  “So I don’t ever get to be Adaline Rossi?” I ask, disappointed.

  Dominic pushes a stray hair behind my ear from the up-all-night-in-bed look I have going on. “Don’t worry, I chose names that will be special to us.”

  “Benedict and Vada Bruno?” I bite my lip to stall my laughter.

  “I can’t really hide my heritage, babe. Bruno is an Italian last name.” He shrugs his shoulders. “It just worked.”

  “Uh huh. “ I softly smile at him as I connect his new first name. “And Benedict, your favorite Saint?”

  He grabs the gold Saint Benedict medal that he wears around his neck. “I wanted names with meaning. Remember, he protects from all evil. We need him on our side. Your name, Vada, it means ‘to go’ in Italian. Plus, it’s fitting because it sounds as beautiful as you look.”

  I point to my messy, knotted, long auburn hair. “This is not beautiful.”

  Dominic pulls me to him as he begins to kiss up my neck. “Oh but it is. That is the look of my one and only Adaline, and I’m the reason your hair is a mess in the first place. No one on this earth looks as gorgeous as you do right now.”

  I push him away as I laugh. “I think your lack of sleep is messing with your brain.” I run my right hand through his thick, slightly curly, black hair. “I’m going to run around the corner and get us some coffee for the road while you finish packing. Okay?”

  Dominic talks in between kisses, his lips never leaving mine. “Don’t. Be. Late. My. Love.”

  “We have but for all of time.” I kiss him once more. ”Together.”

  “Forever, for always. But don’t be late,” he says while winking at me and shutting the door, the lock clicking behind.

  ***

  Two o’clock finally rolls around, ending my shift. The officer was right about one thing, I’m not an early bird. I’m most definitely not the friendliest to strangers at five in the morning either, especially today after I was up most of the night tending to a fever.

  I fill in Javier, the evening barista, on what needs to be restocked before heading out the door to walk home. Luckily, there is a little Cuban grocery store between here and my apartment, because I need to pick up some more ibuprofen. I hope they have the kind I need. I grab my cell out of my purse to turn the ringer back on and feel that same crushing feeling every single time I look at the screen. Dominic had saved the picture he took of us lying in bed our last night together, as my screensaver. I don’t even recognize the girl in the photo anymore. She is overdramatically kissing his cheek. Even with her eyes closed, you can tell how incredibly happy she is at that moment. Dominic, with his black, perfectly disheveled hair, has his left hand entangled in the woman’s long, tangled, auburn hair with the cheesiest yet overjoyed smile on his face. We had to leave our old phones behind and get burner phones so that we could not be traced. This is the only picture I have left of him. As much as it hurts to see him
every time I look at my phone, it also reminds me why I need to push on and survive another day.

  I unlock the door to my apartment and am almost knocked over by a tiny body and arms that wrap around my knees. “Mommy, you’re home!”

  I bend down to swoop him up into my arms. “Well, someone is feeling better,” I say to him as he wraps his arms around my neck and nuzzles into the side of my face. “I missed you, Benny.” I close my eyes, reveling in the powerful feeling of his hug. That feeling never gets old.

  “I missed you too, Mommy. I drew you a picture, wanna see?” I set him back down on the ground as he runs off to his bedroom to retrieve the picture.

  “His fever finally broke around noon,” Gloria says to me as she finishes tidying up the stack of children’s books on the end table. Gloria is my neighbor, and my new boss, Carlos’s mother. The hardest part about all of this is leaving Benny with a caregiver while I work. Gloria raised seven children and has sixteen grandchildren of her own. She is exceptional with Benny, and he loves her already. I’ve been a nanny at every place we lived before we came here. It was the only way to ensure Benny was safe and we still made money. This is the first time I have felt so comfortable with someone keeping him. I can already imagine that our stay in Miami will last longer than usual because of this.

  “Thank you so much for caring for him, even with the fever, Gloria. It means a lot to me.”

  “There, there. No need to thank me. Benny is a sweet boy. It was no problem at all. I made you ropa vieja for dinner. It is in the pot on the stove.”

  “Oh Gloria, that was very kind of you. Thank you for the ropa.” I try to pronounce the second word of whatever it was she just told me she made, but thankfully she saves me from the embarrassment.

  “It’s shredded beef, dear. Serve it over some rice and that is all you will need.” Gloria pats my shoulder as she walks past me to the front door. “I will see you tomorrow morning. I hope Benny has a better night.”