Nightingale

"Ohhhhhh," she moaned as fresh sparks shot through her limbs. Raph kissed her hard, then lowered her to her feet.

"Go home. Get some rest," he rumbled, frowning deeply as his conflicted mind tortured him.

She wobbled as she made her way outside and turned to face him. She reached down and slid a finger up inside the leg of her shorts. She gasped as she pushed it deep inside her, then pulled it out for him to see his semen coating it. She slipped the finger into her mouth then giggled as she made her way to the next townhouse.

Roxy, the girl next door.

As he closed and locked his door once more, he worried about his crazy neighbor. She'd been next door for as long as he could recall. They'd grown up together... in this shitty place to grow up. Their mutually abusive relationship was a perfect example of how unhealthy their environment was. Both of them were damaged. Neither of them was good for the other. Yet, the more he pushed her away for her own good, and his, the more she clung to him.

He moved to tidy up the living room and carried his books upstairs. A deep thumping on the front door brought him back downstairs quickly. He glanced at the crowbar next to the door, then opened it.

There was Dotty in the arms of one of the club's bouncers. Raph recognized him from the one time he'd visited the club to pick up his mom. She'd gotten sick on one of the club owner's more valuable customers. She hadn't told her boss that she was running a fever. The owner had been too pissed at her to send her home safely and called for him to pick her up. The man spent an hour ranting at them through the napkin he held to his mouth as she shivered in Raph's arms.

The bouncer was an ugly brute by the name of Yuri. Russian, like the club owner. The extensive tattoos didn't soften his image, and his voice was as rough as his complexion.

"Mr. Kirov says customer slipped her something and roughed her up in private room. She is to recover and return on Monday. Three days to get straight. Understood?" His eyes held Raph's.

"Yes," Raph sighed.

"Good." Then he transferred the unconscious woman to Raph's arms. Yuri saw the redness on his knuckles and connected the dots. "Broken man on sidewalk. You?"

Raph just nodded.

Yuri was impressed and nodded his approval. "You need work, speak to Mr. Kirov." Then he turned and walked away.

Raph brought his mother into the house and locked the door. He was carrying her upstairs when he heard her whisper.

"Mateo? My Mateo... you came back to me."

Raph's heart sank. His father's name. He looked down at his mom's face, and beneath the bruises and swelling, he saw the hope in her eyes. He wasn't sure what drug she'd ingested, but she wasn't connecting to reality. Damn, this was going to be bad.

"No, mom. I'm Raph, your son."

"Mateo... I've missed you... so much."

Goddammit! He wanted to kill the fucker who drugged and beat her. Instead, he just struggled to calm himself as he carried her down the hall to her bedroom. She was trying to snuggle against his chest as she repeated his father's name over and over.

He laid her gently on the bed, but when he turned to leave, she reached out and grabbed his shirt.

"Please... please don't... leave me again. Mateo, please."

Heart aching, he stretched out on the bed next to his mom and gathered her against his chest. He kissed the top of her head, and she sighed in contentment. When her hands moved down his stomach towards his belt buckle, he gently took them in his and raised them to his lips to kiss them.

"Sleep... my love," he said quietly, and she whimpered something against his chest then slowly faded.

Raph lay there for hours before he slipped into sleep himself.

Chapter 4

Victor crunched down on his breakfast cereal, wishing it was louder in his head so he didn't have to hear his parents bickering. It pissed him off. His father's condescending tone and his mother's pitiful begging pushed him into a rage every morning.

Roger Manning was an important man in town, head of the largest bank. He was rich and powerful. Victor admired that about him, but he also thought his father was a prick.

Emily Manning fulfilled her role as the dutiful wife, but she made Victor so angry when she let his dad treat her like shit. Maybe she deserved it; he didn't know. All he knew was that he was sick of it.

"Is this what you do to keep yourself busy all day? Draw silly pictures of the garden?" Roger sighed disappointedly.

Emily glanced in embarrassment over at Victor, who looked back to his cereal and ate another spoonful noisily. She frowned at her son's sloppy eating habits.

"It's a design for the garden — just a concept. I'd like to refresh the look. It shouldn't cost too much, and the backyard looks dreadful from last winter," she said in a reasonable tone.

"As if I didn't have more important things to be dealing with," Roger grumbled as he looked at his wife. He walked over to the patio door and looked out at the backyard. "Well, damn," he growled as he took in the mess. He turned back to his wife. "Fine, go get a quote, and I'll take a look at it tonight. Don't make any promises to those crooks."

"Thank you," she said quietly as her husband headed out to the front door without a glance back. She stood there for a moment until she heard the door close then moved towards the kitchen table. Victor suddenly stood and shook the empty box in her direction.

"We're out of cereal."

"I-I'm getting groceries this morning—"

"And I'm out of clean clothes. When are you doing the laundry? Shit." Victor snapped as he left his mother in the kitchen, staring wide-eyed after him. Fuck! She pissed him off!

Now he was going to be late for school.

As she collected Victor's dishes, Emily fought back the tears that had become so common these days. She glanced towards the living room entrance as that's where the brandy was but recalled how Roger had punished her for drinking some of his reserve. She unconsciously moved her arms over her breasts protectively. She put the dirty dishes in the dishwasher then gave herself a shake. She had to get started on her chores now to have time to go to the garden center later.

She heard the front door thump closed loudly, and she was alone. Again.

-=-

Raph yawned once more as he rode the bus to the garden center. He'd been so tired this morning when he woke up in his mom's bed. He'd eased her sleeping body off his shoulder and slipped out of her room.

She'd drooled on his shirt, but he was going to wear his other set of clothes anyway. He'd do the laundry tonight. He took a quick shower, got dressed, made her a quick breakfast, and left her a note saying she wasn't to go back to work until Monday, boss' orders. She might not listen to her son, but no one crossed Mr. Kirov.

He'd struggled through his classes, which were thankfully just review. He evaded Victor's attention, as he seemed to be in a rare mood. Of greatest significance, he'd avoided paying any attention to Sam.

Raph had survived the day. Now he just had to get through his shift at work if he could stay awake.

When he arrived, he saw the place was bustling. He saw Jackie standing by the door to his office. The older man looked upset, and his face was flushed. He must have been yelling at someone, Raph thought. Maybe not such a good time to make his presence known. He began to turn towards the staff locker room entrance when the man spotted him and frantically waved him over.

"Raph! Thank god! That useless shit Dante just quit, right at the start of one of our busiest weekends! I'm down one sales associate, and I can't get anyone else to cover his shift until tomorrow. Today, I need you on the floor!" Jackie exclaimed with a raspy voice, showing the argument with Dante had been heated.

Raph looked at the man in surprise. "I don't know how to sell. I'm not good with people."

The boss scowled and fixed an eye on Raph. "It's not like I have a choice. Listen. All I need you to do is answer questions as best you can. You don't have to try upselling anything. Just find them what they ask for. If I have at least one sales associate floater available to speak to customers and make them feel like someone's listening, that will keep them in the store."

Raph still felt uncomfortable about this, but from the expression on Jackie's face, he knew he'd better do it or find another job.

"Sure. Okay, I can do that."

The man sagged with relief. "I'll do my best to direct the more senior salespeople to the customers when I can. Get your apron on and come back quick."

Raph rushed into the back to stow his books and got his apron. He put his gloves in the pocket and walked back out. He caught a glance from Jackie as he pointed to an older woman looking around. Raph moved closer. "May I help you?" he asked awkwardly.

She squeaked a little at his gruff tone but saw his stiff smile and settled herself. "Yes, I'm looking for something to put around my garden bed to separate it from the lawn."

"Edging?" he asked.

"Yes, that's the name. It just slipped my old mind," the woman said with a smile as she looked at him.

Missing the opportunity to compliment her and make her feel good, he just pointed to the building's left wall where several different kinds were on display. "We have brick edging and plastic edging in a variety of shapes and sizes."

"Oh," she said quietly.

He nodded with a smile and moved on as the old woman made her way to the edging.

As the afternoon became early evening, the customers continued to stream in, and Raph tried his best to remain calm when the idiots asked the same stupid questions without listening to his answers. To be fair, some customers were easy to deal with, but he got to field most of the requests as the floater.

There were three other senior sales associates, not including Jackie. Raph was taking a breather between requests and spotted his boss waving at him. He was standing next to a pretty woman with short, dark hair. From her timid body language and large eyes, she reminded him of a doe. She was probably in her late thirties and looked around nervously at the crowd.

As Raph made his way over, he noted the uncomfortable expression on his boss' face. "Yes, sir. How can I help?"

"Raphael, I need you to do a landscaping quote for Mrs. Manning here," the older man said, and Raph's eyebrows went up. His boss was using his formal name to impress the customer, so she must be important. He was also being asked to do something he'd never done.

Jackie turned to the woman. "Raphael here isn't one of our sales associates, but he is an excellent landscaper. He'll follow you out to your place where you can show him what you have in mind. He'll work out a quote on the spot. Would that be all right?"

The woman looked to Raph, who studied her in return. His impression of her looking like a doe caught in the headlights increased. He let a friendly smile slip onto his lips, and a shy one appeared on hers.

"That would be fine," she said with a timid voice.

"Raphael, take the pickup. The keys are on the wall in my office. Take the tablet and clipboard. The price list is on the tablet, and you can write up the quote for Mrs. Manning on the clipboard. She gets the top copy."

He looked at his boss once more. "Okay, sure." He turned his eyes to the woman. "I'll be right with you." He then hustled away to get the items from the office as she went outside. On his way back, Jackie caught his arm.

"Your last job was landscaping, right? You any good at it?" Jackie asked nervously.

"Yeah, I'm good," Raph said with a nod.

"Good?" his boss said with a raised brow.

Raph's nerves were a little frayed from dealing with so many customers, so his tone was sharper than he should've used with his boss. "Really... fucking... good," Raph said slowly as he held Jackie's eyes. For a moment, he thought he might've pissed the man off, but Jackie actually relaxed a little and nodded.

"I'd rather send one of the more senior people on this as the Manning family live up on the hill, but my guys are all in the middle of setting up large orders. Don't screw this up if you can avoid it."

Frowning, he nodded and headed outside after another great pep talk from the boss. He caught up with the client.

"Where are we going?" he asked as she was heading to her car. She turned to look at him in surprise.

"Oh! Sorry. Ninety Pinecrest Drive," she said with a slight blush.

He nodded and headed off to the truck. She was driving a small import, but he had no real trouble keeping up with her. Soon they were climbing up the winding road through a very posh neighborhood. He'd never been on this side of town before.

They pulled into a long winding driveway and up to a large house. Once parked, he gathered the toolbox from the cab, including the clipboard and tablet, and followed her into the backyard. The space was large, but it wasn't presented very well. There were signs of water damage and subsidence near the back of the property, where a slope was giving way to too much waterlogged soil.

He smiled at her, and she smiled back. It seemed more a reflex defensive action on her part, so he let his smile go. "What were you thinking of doing back here?" he asked, trying to move this along.

Her eyes flickered to his, then she pulled a rolled piece of art paper from her bag and spread it out on the patio table as they looked out over the area to be done.

He was impressed by the detail she'd added to the sketch. He nodded appreciatively as he saw what she was going for. It was bold but needed a few minor adjustments. Even without it, the yard would be eye-catching. He was also caught by the fluidity of the drawing.

"This is really good, but it doesn't address the crumbling slope back there." He saw her shrink back from his criticism, so he pressed on, trying to speak gently. "The grasses you've selected aren't going to firm up the ground sufficiently. I'd recommend you reinforce the slope with a short line of armor stone. Then you plant the grasses above and below them." He glanced at her once more and saw she was considering his suggestion. He looked over her design once more, and he had to admit, he was impressed. She had an excellent eye for design.

Glancing at her again, he could see she was still intimidated by him. He worried about that and feared he might have scared her off. Maybe a compliment? "Outside of my one minor suggestion, the design is brilliant... and beautiful!" he asserted.

He saw her eyes light up with his praise. Her smile was dazzling, especially when it showed in her pretty eyes too.

"WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING IN MY BACKYARD?"

He recognized the voice, and it finally clicked in Raph's head. Mrs. Manning. Victor Manning. Crap.

He turned to look at the source of the angry yell as Victor marched out onto the patio towards them.

The woman stepped between them. "This young man is working on the quote for the landscaping. Your father said I could get a quote!" she said with a shaky voice.

Victor stopped and looked over his mother's shoulder at Raph, his jaw muscles clenching in frustration. Raph just looked back calmly.

Looking his mother in the eye, he lifted the corner of his lip in a snarl. "Get it done quickly, then get this Spic trash out of our yard," he growled. With a final glare at Raph, Victor stormed back into the house.

Mrs. Manning clasped her hands and rubbed them together as she trembled. She glanced over to see if Raph was upset and was surprised by his smile. "I'm so sorry about how rude he was—"

"Don't worry about it. I don't care what he thinks of me. The racist jab was new, but it really doesn't matter," he said with a slight smile.

Big eyes blinked at him.

"Let's get back to working on this amazing design of yours!" he said, and her beautiful smile was back.

She walked him through her ideas, and he asked about the color palette and texture theme she was working towards and offered suggestions of suitable plants to match each. She seemed to open up as he listened to her ideas without judgment. When they settled on something, he'd note it down in the tablet and worked out some quick tallies. He took measurements for estimating how much mulch and wood chips they'd need.

"There are some armor stone pieces back at the store that would be perfect for holding back this slope," he said while measuring the length. "Yeah, we've just the right size of stones to do this job. We can make it appear like stone steps with grasses above and below."

"That would be lovely!" she exclaimed, obviously seeing the image in her mind. He nodded and jotted it down on the pad.

"Okay, I think I have enough information to work out the quote. I'll give you two. One with all of the features you've asked for and one with some items removed to reduce the cost," Raph explained.

She pouted a little at the second option but nodded as it made sense.

Raph sat at the patio table with the tablet and the clipboard and wrote out a quote like he'd seen others written. He itemized the elements and listed their costs. Next, he wrote out the economy version, which would still look nice but would be missing her design's true visual impact.

He then explained the two quotes. She was surprised by the cost but hopeful.

Raph saw her expression and looked out at the yard in the dimming light. "I saw the design they used for the mayor's property last year." She looked at him with interest. "I can honestly say your design is more impressive and isn't as expensive as his was." He looked up as dusk was quickly settling over the hillside. "I should be getting back to the shop."

The woman was smiling at him, now that he'd given her that tidbit about the mayor. "Thank you so much! I'll show these to my husband, and I'll contact the store tomorrow," she promised.

He nodded to her with a smile, collected his tools, and headed back to the truck.

He drove back to the shop and walked inside with the quotes. Jackie rushed over and reviewed them.

"What's with the second cheaper quote?" he growled.

"Mr. Manning is the bank manager. You think he'd accept only one option?" Raph asked, and his boss frowned but shook his head.

"No, you're right. Good thinking. Thanks for taking care of this." The boss looked around and saw the crowd had diminished. "You can finish up tonight by moving those bags of manure back into the stock room."

Raph nodded tiredly and made his way towards the smelly bags. He was relieved to get away from the customers. Bags of manure didn't ask insulting questions and had no eyes to judge him.

-=-

Emily put the finishing touches on dinner and fretted as she waited for Roger to come home. He was late, and her nerves were beginning to fray. She'd prepared what she was going to say about the quote, but Roger could be... unpredictable.

Victor had gone out for a while, and when he returned, he'd just glared at her as he climbed the stairs to his room.

She heard the front door close with a thump, and she squeaked a little. She took some deep breaths to calm herself and walked out to greet her husband.

"Welcome home, dear," she said with a smile.

Roger glanced at her and looked away. "Is dinner ready?"

She nodded. "I'll get it on the table." She moved to the stairs. "Victor, dinner!"

Emily hustled to the kitchen and began moving the dishes out to the dining room. Roger was already seated, and Victor walked in. Neither looked at her or each other but instead just started eating.

She said a little prayer to herself and began eating, casting looks at the two men at the table.

They ate in silence, and once Victor was done, he got up and headed back upstairs to his room. She watched him go and realized she'd lost her son, the young boy who used to smile at her and was her little soldier. Now he wouldn't even look at her at dinner. The pain of that cut through her, and she put her hand over her mouth to stifle her gasp of despair.