by Kelsie Rae
“If you don’t know how to get out of that position, then it’ll always be your worst nightmare. Let me teach you how. Do you trust me?”
Her lips pull into a thin line as she stares back at me with an intensity that almost breaks me. But I’m not going to push her on this. Not if she isn’t ready. Nostrils flaring, she rolls onto her back, then looks up at me, waiting for me to get into position without saying a word. It’s another test. Another chance for me to be the guy she fears I am. But she’s doing it anyway, despite the possibility that I could be like Sei.
Squatting low, I ask her, “What’s your safe word, Q?”
“Six.”
“Say it again.”
“Six,” she says with a bit more confidence.
“Good girl.” Straddling her hips, I tangle my fingers in her short blue hair but keep my grip loose in hopes that she can focus and won’t be triggered. “You okay?”
“Six,” she breathes, squeezing her eyes shut before I can even voice my question.
I climb off her as fast as I can, then raise my hands in the air. “I’m off. I’m off.”
That same ragged breathing echoes throughout the room as she rolls onto her side and tucks her knees into her chest. “I’m…I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry. You did good. You faced your fears—”
“I didn’t face it—”
“You tried, Q. That’s all I care about. Let’s focus on some other ways you can defend yourself, okay?”
Offering my hand, I wait for her to take it, and by some miracle, she does.
I think I passed.
Again and again, we practice different techniques until she’s confident she can get out of his grasp or break his arm with a few moves that transform from complicated to second nature. But never when she’s on her back. And I don’t blame her. One day though, she’ll have to face her fears again. But not today.
With our chests heaving, I fall onto my ass and praise her. “You did good today.”
She smiles but doesn’t reply.
“Seriously, Blue. Tomorrow we’ll go over these moves again. Then we’ll move onto weapons.”
“Weapons?”
“Yeah. Sometimes it isn’t just hand-to-hand defense. Did he use a gun to threaten you? A knife? What makes you feel helpless? Vulnerable?”
A glassy film spreads across her eyes as she gets lost in another memory, making me hate the asshole even more than before. I feel like we’ve made so much progress today, but it can fall apart in the blink of an eye.
Frustrated, I snap my fingers in front of her. “Focus, Blue. Where’d you go?”
She clears her throat. “A knife. He liked his knives.”
“Then we’ll teach you how to use one against him,” I promise her. “But not today. Go shower. I’ll make dinner, and we can watch a show or something.”
“A show?”
I laugh. “Yeah. Is that a problem?”
“No,” she admits, but her cheeks heat with embarrassment as she drops her gaze to the ground like a shy little kitten.
“Then why are you blushing?” I tease. There’s just something about this girl that makes me desperate to knock down the barrier she’s constructed around herself, though I doubt she’ll ever let me get close enough to try.
“I just”—she tucks a few strands of hair behind her ear—“didn’t picture you doing something so…normal.”
“Why not?”
“Because you’re a big, bad mafia man?” she offers.
“And that means I can’t enjoy a show every once in a while?”
“I dunno? I thought being part of the mob is a lifestyle choice, not a job,” she quips, giving me another glimpse of the old Q. “Am I wrong?”
“It is, but everyone needs some time to unwind and shit. How do you like to unwind?”
Aaand there’s the damn barrier again.
I can almost see it rise up a few more levels as I ask a question that apparently is too personal for her own liking. She chews her lower lip and suddenly finds an unhealthy fascination with the stained concrete beneath our feet that covers the entire gym area while ignoring me completely.
“Blue?” I prod.
“Just shows and stuff.”
“What kind of shows?”
“Depends on the time of year.”
“For example…?” I let my voice trail off in hopes that she’ll throw me a bone and fill in the blank.
“Like Christmastime.”
“And?” I press. It’s like every damn conversation turns into an interrogation with her.
“And watching the Hallmark Channel?”
“Like the sappy love shit?”
That same blush spreads from her cheeks out to her ears and down her neck, and I bite back my laughter at how uncomfortable this conversation is making her.
“It’s stupid.” She tries to step around me, but I grab her bicep and keep her in place.
“It’s not stupid. I’m just…surprised.”
Her attention is glued to my hand encompassing her arm. “Why is that so surprising?”
“Because it’s so…normal for someone like you.”
“Someone like me?” Her gaze darts up to mine and damn near acts like a microscope on my soul. Like a switch has been flipped, she lifts her chin and spits, “Someone who was kidnapped, raped, and tortured? Is that what you mean?”
“What?” With my hands raised in surrender, I attempt to defuse the situation. “That’s not what I meant—”
“Then what did you mean?”
“The first personal thing I’ve learned about you is that you like Hallmark movies. You’ve kept everything else in the dark, and anytime I’ve tried to pry, you’ve ignored me completely or clammed up, making me feel guilty as hell for asking in the first place.”
“That’s because I’m not anyone special, D. I’m just a normal girl who was in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
“And where were you? When you were taken?” I push.
“It doesn’t matter—”
“Maybe it does.”
“No. It doesn’t. Because the girl from my past is long gone. She disappeared the moment I was kidnapped, held down, and fucked in the ass, okay?” Wrenching herself out of my grasp, she storms off to shower. Her march is fueled with animosity as she disappears around the corner and leaves me alone with my guilt over a crime I didn’t even commit.
What the hell just happened?
Pinching the bridge of my nose, I dial Lou.
“Yeah?”
“Hey,” I reply. “I need you to do me a favor.”
“What kind of favor?”
“I need you to download as many Hallmark movies as you can, then send them over to me.”
“Hallmark movies?” Lou questions. I can almost see his look of confusion.
“Yeah,” I grit out. “The Christmas ones. Think you can do that for me?”
After a slight pause, he returns, “Sure thing. Anything else?”
“That’s it. Do we have any updates on the families? Anyone looking for her?”
“King asked Dex to take care of the buyer who’d been set up to purchase Q after the tournament, but other than that, it’s been pretty silent.”
My knuckles tighten around my phone as I press it against my ear. What kind of prick would buy a girl instead of just finding one like a normal human being?
With a heavy exhale, I switch the lights off in the gym, then head to my room. “Alright. Thanks.”
“No problem. How’s it going down there?”
I take the stairs two at a time, then glance over at Q’s door. A few inches keep it from being closed entirely, proving that she’s still more terrified of being locked in than she is of sacrificing an ounce of privacy. Which means she still doesn’t trust me.
“As good as can be expected, I guess,” I grumble under my breath.
“Is she giving you any trouble?”
“Nothing I can’t handle.”
“Soun
ds good. I’ll upload the movies to Matteo’s online theater system as soon as they’re ready. You should be able to play them on any of the TVs connected to his internet.”
“Thanks.”
“Don’t mention it.”
Then I hang up and take a hot shower, while the haunted look in Q’s eyes plagues me. She’s so hot then cold that I don’t know how to handle her, and it’s slowly chipping away at my sanity.
9
Q
I’m fuming. I have been for the past forty-five minutes. Pretty sure the lush carpet beneath my bare feet is going to get track marks if I keep this pacing up for much longer, but I can’t help it. Something about his comment pissed me off.
It made me miss the old me. Gave me an inkling of what it felt like to feel normal before realizing it was ripped away from me and left me spiraling out of control with no identity and no idea how to move forward.
Knock, knock.
Chewing on my lower lip, I stare at the piece of solid oak that I can’t make myself close before marching toward it and wrenching the damn thing the rest of the way open.
“Dinner’s ready,” D announces as if our little confrontation from earlier didn’t even happen. But maybe that’s how mafia men settle their arguments when they can’t shoot someone to get their way. By pretending they never happened in the first place.
His hair is still wet from his shower, and I have to fight the urge to reach out and touch it. He just looks so…human right now. So normal. So not like the big bad mafia bear I’ve grown accustomed to. My heart continues its frantic pace but for an entirely different reason that I refuse to acknowledge.
“Would you like to come downstairs and eat it with me?” he prods. It’s a request, not a demand. Grudgingly, I acknowledge his effort to make me feel comfortable but can’t decide what to actually do about it.
“Please?” he adds before tacking on a crooked smirk that would’ve made the old me melt into a puddle at his feet.
I would’ve been a shy mess around him before I was taken. I would’ve probably run in the opposite direction because the guy oozes sex, confidence, and bad decisions. But that wouldn’t have stopped me from crushing on him from a distance. He just…has this charisma that could be so addictive if I allowed myself to taste it.
But the new me would never do that, and the old me would’ve been too terrified by his bad boy demeanor to try.
“Come on, Blue. It’ll be fun. I might even have a surprise for you.”
“I don’t like surprises. Not anymore.”
“You’ll like this one. I promise.”
I used to love surprises. Now, I’m not so sure anymore. But it’s the pleading in his gaze that finally does me in and convinces me to step into the hallway.
I bite the inside of my cheek and mutter, “Fine.”
His eyes flash with surprise before he covers it with a warm smile. “Perfect.”
The silence is deafening as we walk down to the kitchen, where a white paper bag is resting on the counter. He grabs it but keeps walking. “Follow me.”
Leading me down a winding hall on the main floor, then down a set of stairs into the basement, he opens a door on his right and motions to the dark room. My heart rate is off the charts, but I try to calm the hell down as I take in the space.
It’s a theater room. There’s a large screen on one wall with a projector hanging in the center of the ceiling and a few rows of recliner chairs and loveseats placed on ascending platforms to the back of the room.
It’s…legit.
Licking my lips, I scan the area a few more times to remind myself that this basement is literally nothing like the one I was imprisoned in. Well, other than the fact that it’s in the basement.
“You okay?” I can feel him inspecting me, watching me to see if I’m about to snap and lose my damn mind more than I already have. And the fact that he’s already learning to anticipate my mental breakdowns is…depressing. And a little impressive. He might even know me better than myself.
With a sniff, I take a deep breath and face him. “Yup. Fine.”
He doesn’t believe me but also doesn’t press the subject, and I’m grateful he’s willing to drop it.
“Alright, then. There’s a fridge over there.” He points to the giant wall with the white screen. A fridge is tucked beside it. “Grab me a water, will ya? I’ll turn the projector on. Then we’ll start the movie.”
The sleek, stainless steel appliance is a stark reminder of the opulence in this house. When I open it, my hand itches to grab a Coke, but I reach for a second bottle of water before closing it and taking a seat on the nearest leather recliner. My muscles practically melt into the cushions on impact, and a contented sigh slips out of me. I’m exhausted. But it’s a good exhaustion. One that reminds me of the productive day I had instead of wasting away in a locked room.
The screen goes bright seconds later before Christmas music filters through the speakers.
What the hell?
Convinced I’m seeing things, I blink a few times before digging my teeth into my lower lip to keep from crying. White paper bag in hand, Diece plops down beside me and rummages through it. He’s completely oblivious that I’m about to really lose my shit for the first time since I was kidnapped.
“Hey, Blue,” he starts as he pulls out a hamburger wrapped in aluminum foil. “I didn’t know what you like, so I just got—” His expression transforms from carefree to distressed in an instant as he glances over at me. “What the hell, Blue? What’s wrong?”
My body wracks with a sob as I bury my face in my hands. Gasping for air, I finally just…cry. For the girl I was. For everything I’ve been through. For every bruise. Every cut. Every moment that was stolen from me by the despicable monster who tortured me for two weeks that lasted longer than a lifetime.
A hand rubs against my back, but I jerk away from the foreign touch of comfort and cry even harder before those same strong hands pull me into a warm chest. Unable to fight it, I cling to his comfort and sob even harder. The worn cotton shirt feels soft against my cheek as I burrow into him. I don’t know how much time passes before his chest rumbles against my cheek.
“Shhh…it’s okay, Q. It’s gonna be okay.”
I shake my head back and forth as another cry escapes me. “No, it’s not. It’ll never be okay again. I hate him, D. I hate him so much.”
“I know, baby girl,” he coos. “I know.”
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” I choke out as my sorrow threatens to swallow me whole.
His grip tightens around me until all I can feel, smell, and hear is him. “Don’t you dare be sorry, Q. Not for one fucking second. You have done nothing wrong, do you hear me? Nothing.”
“I’m broken. I let him use me—”
“You had no choice,” he argues. His tone is dripping with venom. “You did what you had to do to survive. And you did survive, Q. You made it out the other side. That’s more than most girls can say. I know it doesn’t feel like it, but you’re strong enough to get through this.”
I whimper. “I’m not, though. I’m not strong. You were right. I’m weak. I let him win.”
“Don’t you dare let yourself think that, Blue. I was wrong. When I told you that, I was wrong. You got up this morning. You faced the world, despite how dark it seems. You’re here. You showed up. You did more than most men or women ever could. You are strong. You are brave. And you’re gonna get through this.”
“And if I can’t?”
“Then I’ll do whatever I can to carry your burdens until you’re strong enough to take the weight again.”
With tear-stained cheeks, I peek up at him, positive I look like a mess, yet feeling almost clean for the first time since I woke up in that damn basement all those nights ago.
His hand almost engulfs the entire left side of my face as he rubs his thumb along my cheek, catching the moisture still clinging to my skin. The indecision is clear in his eyes. If only I knew what he was thinking about. My l
ips part. But I don’t move another muscle as I continue to hold his stare. The air is heavy around us while the forgotten movie dances along the screen. I lift my chin. Hold my breath. And—
Defeated, he drops his hand back to his side and finds my cold hamburger before offering it to me. “You should eat something.”
“Thanks.” I take it from him and unwrap it while my brain tries to piece together what the hell just happened.
“Have you seen this one before?” D asks beside me, motioning toward the movie that’s almost half over.
I shake my head. “Nope.”
“Do you want me to start it over?”
“It’s okay.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah,” I answer him.
“How will you know what’s going on?”
With a pathetic laugh still laced with sadness, I explain, “Because that’s the beauty of Hallmark movies. There’s not too much to follow. It’s just a…feel-good show.”
“A feel-good show, huh?” He arches his brow and doesn’t look very convinced. “Well then, would you mind explaining the premise to me so I can catch up?”
“Sure.” I smile. “The heroine is burned out from her career and wound up in this small town for one reason or another, most likely to help push her career forward in the job that she hates. Anyway, she meets a sexy, small-town guy, who’s likely wounded in one way or another, and he’s about to show her the true meaning of Christmas.” Then I take a big bite and savor the crunch of the lettuce with the tang of the condiments and the savory seasoning from the hamburger. Oh my goodness, this tastes delicious.
“That’s it?” he questions, still hooked on the plot while completely ignoring his lukewarm burger that tastes like heaven.
“Yup.”
“Well, alright then.” He scoots back into his chair and unwraps his dinner. “Let’s see if he can teach me the real meaning of Christmas while he’s at it, eh?”
I chuckle. “For that, you need to watch The Muppet Christmas Carol.”
“Is that right?”
“Mmmhmm,” I hum before taking another bite. An amused grin is plastered on his face as he watches me chew. Once I’ve swallowed the small bite, I take a quick swig of water, then add, “Unless you’re willing to fall for a small-town baker or an innocent nanny, but they don’t really seem like your type.”