by Jax Hart
“I don’t—”
“BULLSHIT! People just don’t just disappear without professional help and you did. For a month. I’m not buying it.”
I wouldn’t hurt her. Or kiss her.
But dammit, I wanted to.
I’ve always managed to stay clear of the mob, but because of her, I was dragged into the thick of it.
She stared at me, full of her stubborn pride. Seeing her smooth skin encased in iron cuffs attached to chains almost made me lose it. I wanted this. Just, not like this. I wanted to spread her legs, fuck her hard from behind while listening to the chains scrape against the wall.
I was a sick fuck.
Shit like this turned me on.
But only in clubs or private parties where it was consensual, all printed in the black and white NDA everyone signed.
This was a fucking mess.
Nothing was black and white or spelled out.
I left her before I did something stupid, like fuck the truth from her the way one of the mafia’s enforcers would.
But I was a better man than that. Thanks to Mama and Nana, I wasn’t a man who would ever hurt a woman like that.
I left Selina and paced until dawn. I checked on her a dozen times. She fell asleep somehow. The stain of dried tears was visible on her dirty cheeks. But I let her sleep while I tried to find a way out of this clusterfuck for us both.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
I jerked awake.
The sound of slamming car doors interrupted the wild beat of the ocean slamming upon the rocks.
My body was stiff and my wrist throbs from where the metal scraped my skin. But I still managed to crawl across the bed to the window and peered outside. There was no way out and no one believed me.
And now he was here.
The king himself, Roque Salvatore.
He stared out to sea. His hands were on his hips. As he turned, his eyes were full of resolve as he moved with the grace of a jaguar. It was almost as if he wasn’t going to enjoy torturing me but knew he had to anyway.
I tried to calm my pounding heart and still my shaking hands. They were going to do ugly things to me, I was sure of it. And nothing could stop it, not even the simple truth that I was innocent.
He didn’t bother knocking.
Roque sauntered in as if he owned the world and every soul in it. I had just finished brewing a pot of coffee and helped myself, not even offering him any.
“She’s not talking?”
“She claims she knows nothing.”
“They all say that.” He started rolling up his sleeves, getting ready to get dirty. I played it cool, pretending I was fine with it. If I gave myself away now, I’d have no shot of saving her.
He started climbing the stairs to the tower, choosing it over the elevator. Two of his thugs followed him while one stayed behind, to watch me. I pretended to relax and leaned against the small counter. I asked him if he caught the end of the Yankees game the night before. I even offered him coffee and when I went to give it to him, I clocked him on the head with the mug, kicked him in the nutsack and took his piece. I secured him with some zip ties and sat him in a chair and used the same hood and gag Johnny’s guys used on this dude.
He was angry as fuck, with eyes that promised payback, but I couldn’t worry about that. Innocent or guilty—I couldn’t let this happen. Roque was a quick motherfucker. I thought I’d have more time to get her to talk. To give me a crumb—hell anything to stop the train wreck that was about to happen.
But Roque was as smart as he was ruthless. He knew I had caught feelings for the girl. The elevator was stuck on the top floor and when I tried the stairwell, the door was locked.
Urged on by the terrified screams coming from above, I drew the gun and fired off three rounds into the doorknob.
It gave.
I ran like a beast up five flights of stairs to rescue Selina and prayed I wasn't too late.
Even though I knew he was coming, it still didn’t lessen the surprise when he strolled nonchalantly into the tower as if it was a luxury hotel in Vegas. He seemed relaxed, but I knew better.
“Ms. De La Cruz, what a pleasure.”
“I-I had no idea. I swear it.”
A smile danced across his lips, he crossed the room and grabbed me forcefully by the chin. “You’re a smart woman. Surely, you must’ve noticed something. Even if it is true that you aren't in on the sting. Tell me, who did she speak to, who came to your apartment? I need details. Now.”
I wracked my brain, still coming up empty. His hands moved from my chin to my windpipe. He wasn’t playing.
He pressed down hard and then released me just as abruptly. While I choked, trying to swallow air, he flicked an imaginary piece of lint from his trousers and nodded to the men standing at the door.
“I hate this part of my work. Truthfully, it’s beneath me. I’m Ivy League educated and speak six languages. Fluently. I won’t hurt you. But they will and I will command them to. You see, little Selina, no one fucks with me or my family. It took generations of senseless losses to get where we are. No one. No one will take that from me. Especially not two girls from Queens.
“Give me something and I’ll let you keep your tongue. But I warn you, depending on what my intel uncovers, you might regret that when you’re stuck sucking some Russian’s cock for the rest of your life.”
His eyes were cold.
I saw it.
What I had missed before.
Or what he just never allowed me to see. He was capable of anything. Death was no stranger to him. His eyes were dead as he explained how this was going to go down.
“I don’t hurt innocents. Babies are innocents. Children. Mothers. Some sons. But you—an innocent? Your case doesn’t look good. She had someone else on the inside. Who was it?”
“I don’t know.” I hung my head, unable to look at his death stare.
He spoke in rapid Italian and his men moved forward. They sliced my clothes away with knives and nicked my skin in their frenzy to see me unclothed. Roque raised his hand and the men fell back. He took one of their knives and walked forward.
I hardly dared to breathe.
He grabbed me by my hair and admired its long length. He twirled it, braided it and held it like a leash.
“WHO ARE YOU?”
“No one.”
He raised the knife.
I closed my eyes and screamed.
Whack.
A foot and a half of my hair was severed. The locks fell to the floor.
His gaze travelled up my exposed flesh, the tip of his knife followed the same path as his eyes.
“What did they get on the wiretap?”
“I already told you...”
He spread my hand against the wall and raised the knife.
“NOOOOO!” I screamed as it slashed and stuck in the wall a half inch from my finger.
“SELINA!” Rafael roared from the other side of the door.
He barreled through, lunged at Roque’s men and they tangled, rolling to the floor as punches were thrown. Somehow, Rafael rolled and fought his way to the wall—raised his gun and pointed it at Roque.
“This ends now. I’ll do it. I swear.”
Roque’s men had their guns trained on him.
“You…would kill me, for her?”
“Don’t make me decide, old friend. Back off.”
“I can’t Rafe. You live in the business world. I’m king of the underworld. There is no justice. No law. No right—only wrong.”
“I pity you then.”
“I never asked for it. It’s what I was born into. You know better than anyone we can’t choose that.”
“I can’t let this happen.”
“I can’t let her go.”
“Don’t then. I’ll keep her prisoner. But I swear to God, Roque…if she’s innocent, fuck the FBI—I’m coming after you.”
The two men studied each other. No longer as friends, but as adversaries.
Finally, Roque re
lented.
“Fine. I never liked interrogating women anyway. I never had the stomach for it.”
I sagged in relief as Roque left and Rafael came to me. I sobbed and attempted to hug him.
“Don’t. Just don’t Selina. I just threatened Roque Salvatore—held a gun on him. He’s not going to let this go unanswered.”
“But he agreed not to hurt me.”
Rafael’s eyes traveled over me; his eyes took in every nick where the tips of the knives made me bleed. His hand came out to touch the ends of my chopped hair. His jaw ticked. “He did hurt you.” He dropped his hand, clenching it into a fist.
He reached into his pocket and took out a key. In a few seconds, I was free from the shackle. “Stay here. For once, Selina, I need you to obey me. I’ll deal with Roque. Don’t leave this room. Do you understand?”
I nodded, trusting him. For the first time, I completely trusted him. He grabbed the sheet off the bed and wrapped it around me. He turned to leave, and my throat felt thick.
“Wait.”
I placed a hand on his forearm feeling it flex.
“Thank you.”
He dipped his head and left.
We met by happenstance and I did my damndest to fight everything I felt for him: anger, lust, need. But I knew I was done running. There was only one question left. Would I be the one chasing him?
CHAPTER NINETEEN
He was waiting for me, just like I knew he would.
I blew out a breath, unloaded the clip and emptied the bullet from the chamber, then held out the gun.
“Keep it.”
We stared at each other.
“She’s between us now.”
“She is,” he agreed. “I hope she’s worth it.”
“I hope so, too.”
“This is far from finished. Decide. Right here, right now. She’s either my prisoner or yours. I can’t risk letting her go before I know how much intel the Feds have on my operation. I have men on the inside, but I can’t take the chance they’ll be made.”
“What do you want me to do?” I swept my hand wide and blew out a breath, “Keep her locked up in my penthouse.”
“Isn’t that what you’ve wanted all along?”
“Christ.” I shook my head. Because I did. But I didn’t want it to go down like this. I didn’t want her defeated and terrified of a man’s touch.
“What about, Johnny?” I asked.
Roque shrugged. “He was stupid…letting his dick cloud his head. She got access to my operation through him. It can’t stand.”
“He’s done then. You’d off a friend over this?”
His eyes were haunted as he met my stare. “I’ve done worse. Christ, the shit I’ve done for the outfit… there’s no hope for me. My soul is already spoken for. I’ll be in touch.” He walked past me and left.
I stood for a while, staring out in the ocean, wondering what in the hell I was going to do with the woman upstairs.
I grabbed my phone and texted Johnny, warning him to get the hell out of New York. But for all I knew, it might have already been too late.
CHAPTER TWENTY
“We need to go.”
I looked up at Rafael. He held my shoes in his hands, crossed the floor and knelt at the bed, slipping each shoe on for me.
“Rafe.”
My hands found their way to the back of his head. I bit my lip. Hot tears splashed down both cheeks.
“I’m sorry.” He simply said. His hand found my braided hair on the floor and he picked it up, his eyes hard. “This is some fucking mess, Selina. I’m not going to hurt you, but for fuck’s sake—I need to know what is going on?”
“I’m just a girl from Albuquerque who scraped up enough money to get a start in New York City. I came here with a suitcase and big dreams. Look at me now,” I choked out.
“I am looking at you. You’re all I can fucking see—” His eyes were tormented, but the spark was still there. He wanted me. Badly.
I moved forward, he still knelt, and pressed my trembling lips to his. He was still at first, not kissing me back. I opened my mouth on his. It was my tongue that pushed his lips apart, before he growled my name and took control.
All his pent-up frustration, anger and confusion over what was happening came through in that kiss. He moved forward, hands grabbing the back of my head; my body moved back as he came down on top of me.
The bed creaked under our weight. I sighed into his mouth as his weight pressed me down.
I wasn’t afraid.
My body felt safe, but my heart was another matter entirely. I had tried to lock this man out, but he wouldn’t be denied any longer.
I wrapped my legs around his back and lifted my hips. He was hard, hot and pressing into me.
“Fuck, Selina.” He pulled his mouth off mine, untangled me from the blanket I had cocooned myself in, and ran his tongue over every nick and cut. He licked my wounds, as if he could heal them with his touch. His lips found a nipple, he sucked and tugged, and the answering rush of desire pooled between my legs where I needed him to fill me.
His silky hair moved against my navel and then he was there—right where I needed him. Hell, if I was being honest with myself—where I always wanted him. Ever since the day he smirked at me while covered in coffee.
His lips pulled my clit into his mouth where his tongue swirled over it.
I was burning.
Forgetting.
Free falling.
Nothing else mattered but this moment. He took away my pain, my fear and made me feel as if everything would be alright.
He eased back, and his fingers plunged in deep. He curled them up, reaching my G-spot as his mouth returned to my clit where his teeth scraped over me with a pain that burst into pleasure.
“Rafe!” I panted, coming hard, my back bowed up.
He caught me.
His strong arms held me tight as I rode the wave home.
We were both covered in sweat as we laid twisted together, listening to the surf hit against the rocks below. My body still hummed for him and I needed more. I turned to him, ran my fingers through the back of his hair and hooked my leg over his hip. He was still as hard as the rocks below.
I moved, trying to straddle him but he grabbed my wrists, “No.” He gently rolled me off him and stood. “We need to get the hell out of here before Roque changes his mind and comes back for you. I’ll call a car service.”
“What’s going to happen now?”
“I don’t know. But you’re coming home with me. You’ll stay in my penthouse until this blows over. I’ll keep you safe.”
“I know you will.”
But I wanted more than for him to keep me safe. I wanted to be with him, really be with him. But what if I already blew my chance?
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
She fell asleep as soon as my SUV hit the highway. The powerful hum of the engine was the only sound besides her occasional soft snore.
I can’t believe I held a gun to Roque Salvatore.
I can’t believe how far I’d go for her and we’ve barely begun. When she looked at me, with her shorn hair and fragile eyes, I knew she was telling the truth. She had nothing to do with the FBI or whatever Christine had done.
I wanted her, but not like this. I wanted the Selina who challenged me, made me angry as fuck, while making me want to do nasty, dirty things to that luscious body of hers. I didn’t want to break her. Not anymore. But I still craved her yielding to me in the bedroom, letting me toy with her body until we were both mad with the need to come hard.
I wanted to fuck every hole she had—then do it again. I wanted to bite her neck while feeling her walls clench around my shaft. I’d take all she had to give, and I’d relish it. I’d keep every fucking piece of her. Permanently. But first, I needed to keep her safe and help her get past what just happened.
I pulled into the parking garage next to my building and carried her all the way up to my penthouse.
She never stirred, but jus
t mumbled my name and sighed into my neck.
Dammit.
It wasn’t just my dick that stirred, but the strings on my heart. She could play them all if she wanted to. And I’d let her.
She might be the one who looked broken right now, but I knew the truth. I was the one who was, you just couldn’t see my scars. I hid them from everyone, except Johnny. He was the only one who knew me and fuck, I might have lost him too.
I slept for hours and woke up ravenous. The bed sheets smelled of him. The only sign he slept next to me was the indentation on the other pillow. I pressed my palm to it; it was cold.
“Rafe?” I called out, but he didn’t answer.
I shuffled to the bathroom and felt a sob jerk out of me as I caught my reflection in the mirror.
I was ugly.
Cut.
Broken.
Huge bags still hung under my eyes despite my long sleep.
Who would want me now?
I was more scary than sexy.
“Selina?” He tapped softly on the door. “Can I come in?”
I sat on the toilet and sobbed.
“Hey,” his tender tone just made me cry more. He was so perfect. The ultimate combination of alpha male and hero…and I was too scared to admit it. Rafael was powerful, cocky, funny, arrogant, but god dammit—he was also tender, passionate, and perfect. Perfect for me.
“Don’t. Please.” He tried to wipe my tears. “I got you this.”
Through the tears blinding me, I spied the Starbucks cup in his hand. And I broke again.
This man.
This man got me. Cared about me and I threw him away all summer because I was too afraid of the past and not confident enough in myself.
The irony wasn’t lost on me.
He sighed, placed the cup on the counter and started a bath. I watched through gritty eyes as he poured salts and added a few drops of oil to the steaming water. Then he came back to me and lifted the shirt I had borrowed from him off my head. My nipples peaked when the air hit them, but his eyes looked everywhere but at my naked cut-up flesh.