by Fiona Murphy
The elevator opens, it’s empty. Thank fuck. “My dick doesn’t get hard hurting a woman. You were hurting yourself.”
“When I don’t show up tomorrow Richard will know it’s because of my father. He won’t believe I just won’t show up. Richard will go to the police.”
I laugh, I wonder if she still believes in Santa Claus. “There is no way in hell Richard is going to the police.”
As we get to the car she tries to trip me. That’s it. “Are you claustrophobic or afraid of the dark?”
Her brow creases in confusion. “No, why?”
It clicks for her too late. Now she really starts to struggle. I’m done though, she’s getting on my damn nerves. That and she’s making my dick hard with all her panting, which makes her breasts heave and sway. “You could have sat in the front like a normal person. Now you get to ride in the trunk.”
“No, please, Dominic. I’ll be good.”
I ignore her and pop the trunk. At least it’s clean and roomy. Hell, you could fit four or five people in here. I go to pick her up and she tries to kick me. It’s a good thing she annoyed me. I can focus on that instead of how she feels in my arms, because fuck me does she feel good. She lands with a bit of a thump as I let her go quickly. Her eyes go wide when I slam the trunk closed. The second it’s shut she starts kicking the trunk. She’d better not put any dents in it.
I make the drive back to my hotel in less than ten minutes. In the elevator I hit up Valdez and let him know my problem. I’m grateful he only pauses for a heartbeat before giving me what I need. He texts me the address of a safe house not far from the city and lets me know he’ll have someone meet me there with what I need within the hour. It only takes fifteen minutes to pack up and check out.
***
Regina
I can’t believe this. I cannot fucking believe this. This is a nightmare, a complete fucking nightmare. Johnny not only didn’t try and stop Dominic Sabatini from kidnapping me, he told me to be a good girl, that I belong to Dominic, that I’m to be his wife. What in the actual fuck? Dead, Johnny is dead to me, this is too much, too fucking far. Dominic Sabatini is going to wish he were dead when I’m done with him. I’m going to kick his balls in until he’s choking on them. Stupid, how the hell could I have been so stupid as to let those dimples blind me to the fact he’s a psychopath?
The car brakes hard, damn it, and he’s a crappy driver. I take a deep breath, I’m in the trunk of a car, bound with a silk tie around my wrists. Focus, Regina, try again. It’s only seconds before I give up, the man can tie a knot. The more I try to get out the more it hurts. And my shoulder aches from when I tried to get away in the condo. Dominic’s grip was unforgiving. I just couldn’t believe it, I was sure any second he would let go, Johnny would tell him to let me go.
Another lurching stop, then the car is shut off. The drive didn’t take long. Where are we? I tense, ready to kick up the minute the trunk opens. After a few minutes I give up. We’ve stopped but he’s leaving me in here. He’s leaving me in the trunk. I still can’t wrap my head around it, any of it.
Closing my eyes, I go over the last few hours trying to figure out how and why this happened. I refuse to think about the moment in the hallway, it was stupid and obviously didn’t mean a damn thing. Dinner had gone on forever, with Johnny and Dominic trying to include me in the discussion of local politics and issues. Johnny wasn’t even trying to be subtle about getting me interested in Dominic and vice versa. It was embarrassing having my accomplishments listed as if I was a prized cow for sale.
Escaping to my room, I was congratulating myself on getting through the evening. Then Dominic was there in front of me. He was too close, too big, too gorgeous, too overwhelming.
I couldn’t believe him when he started talking, saying all those horrible things about Richard. None of it made any sense, he was talking about someone else. He didn’t know Richard. How dare he say such awful things? I refused to look at his stupid phone, refused to believe what he was saying.
Angry, I send another hard kick into the metal, needing to do something. This was Johnny trying to control me all over again, and I was done. Except he wouldn’t stop, and he was so close he scared me. When he said my name, those dimples flashing, I forgot everything around me; he was all I saw, and it terrified me. It happened without me even thinking about it. I’ve never hit another person in my life. The moment my palm met his beautiful face, I instantly regretted it. The look in his eyes terrified me, for a heartbeat I was sure he was going to kill me.
When he walked away I don’t know how I stayed standing. The moment he was gone all the fight drained from me. I felt hopeless as I thought of what Johnny was willing to do, how far he was willing to go. It was then I knew I was doing the right thing. Once I left tomorrow, I would never see him again.
I had barely managed to lock the door when it was kicked open, and in seconds I was on the floor being tied up.
The car starts again. Dominic told me Johnny cared about me. Obviously that was a lie or he wouldn’t let me be tied up and tossed into the trunk of a car. Where are we going? How far are Johnny and Dominic willing to go to keep me from Richard, and why does it mean so much to Dominic? Is he trying to make a move up in the mafia by taking me as his wife? Wife...god, I shudder at the idea of Dominic as my husband. Liar, my body whispers, it was a shudder not of distaste, but of desire. No. No, I love Richard. There is no way I will marry Dominic, no way I will let him touch me.
Dominic had laughed when I told him Richard would call the police. It reminds me of a few different times when we were in the vicinity of a police officer. Once when we were in a coffee shop Richard made me leave before I had even finished my coffee. He got anxious, refused to look the cop’s way, made rude comments about them below his breath. I tried to brush it off, in New York city cops didn’t have the best reputation, but now...no, stop it. That’s what Dominic wants. He wants you to doubt Richard.
I shake my head, I love Richard, he loves me, and he cares about me. Nothing Dominic Sabatini says is going to change that.
It feels like we’re driving forever when the car finally stops. Okay, knees tight against my chest, when he opens the trunk, kick out hard against his chest.
The trunk opens and nothing goes to plan. He brushes my legs away as if he were waving off a fly. As he sets me down I take the opening and bring my knee up to his groin. Yes! He growls, oh shit. His hand turns into a vice around the back of my neck as he growls again. “It’s obvious you were never spanked, little girl. Don’t think I have forgotten that slap. You’ll pay for it...soon.”
Oh god, I should be afraid of him, but no, my stupid body comes to life all over again at his touch, at the way he purrs the word soon. Why the hell did that one word make my nipples hard?
A motorcycle roars up beside us. It’s dark, I can’t see much of the figure beside us except he’s big, maybe an inch shorter than Dominic but as wide, maybe even wider. Hope dies out when the guy nods to Dominic.
“Sabatini?”
Dominic nods.
“Kane Morgan, Valdez sent me.”
“Thanks for coming.” Dominic marches me in front of him. It’s a small house, with a wide porch. Kane presses his hand where the doorknob should be, and a scanner comes on. A click sounds loud and the door swings open. He raises his hand to keep us where we are, and keys in a code into a large box beside the door.
“Name and access, please,” a woman asks.
“Kane Morgan, wildflower.”
Kane hits a button and the place lights up. We’re in a living room with a leather sofa and a recliner in the corner. In the light Kane is any guy you would see on the back of a motorcycle with long brown hair, beard, leather jacket and chaps. He moves like Dominic though, smooth, lithe, muscles rippling beneath his clothes. Dominic pushes me forward after Kane. Kane unzips his leather jacket and pulls out a thick blue file folder. He tosses it with a smack onto the small table with four chairs in an eat-in kitchen. Pulling out
a chair, he turns it around and sits down.
Dominic unties me, pressing me down into a chair. It’s hard plastic and uncomfortable. I focus on trying to get blood back into my hands, doing my damnedest to ignore the frissons of electricity still running through me at his touch. Bruises are forming around my wrists.
Without a word Dominic opens the file, then turns it around for me to see. I blink at the sight of a woman beaten so badly in the face and upper body there is barely any skin not darkened from the bruising.
“This is what Richard Taylor did to Katrina, the missing stripper. He’s a regular at the club so she thought she was safe making some extra money hooking for him at a party at his place. Taylor is into pain. Six BDSM clubs in the city and into New Jersey have barred him from entering because he doesn’t respect safe words or women.”
Dominic fans out pictures, oh my god, a woman’s breast has—oh god, my stomach revolts.
“These are the women who have come forward,” Dominic growls.
“There are at least four other women who refuse to go on the record because they are scared of him. He tells anyone who will listen he’s mobbed up and can get to anyone who crosses him.” Morgan’s face is filled with disgust.
I can’t believe this. This isn’t Richard, not the Richard I know.
Dominic flips a page, it’s a mug shot of Richard. “He’s coming undone, he was picked up on a drug charge two months ago. He lost his job and he’s about to be evicted.”
“No, he owns his condo.” Richard assured me his condo was all but paid off. How when it was time we would sell the condo, and the profit would be more than enough for a significant down payment on a big home in the suburbs where we could raise our children. I’ve met Richard across the street from his office, the last time just two weeks ago. This doesn’t make any sense.
Dominic lifts an eyebrow, doesn’t say a word, just turns the page. It’s another mug shot and the charges listed are stark, simple, brutal. Shaking my head, the words swim in front of me. He turns the page again, holy shit. It’s a bank statement and the numbers are insane, negative balance after negative balance. They can’t be real. A bank would have closed the account—then there’s a massive deposit...from Lusso Imports. I know what Lusso Imports is, it’s a front for Benny Bruno. No, no, Richard was Benny’s friend, but they didn’t do business together.
Richard told me although he was friends with Benny, it was only because they had gone to NYU together. How they became friends before Richard knew what Benny did. Richard swore he wanted nothing to do with the mafia. He said he had doubts he needed to overcome about us because of who my father is. I blink fast at the tears that rise at the mere memory of that long week Richard took to consider if we should continue. I had been so relieved when he told me he loved me so much he couldn’t stay away. I didn’t want anything to do with the life, so he felt he could be with me.
Another page turned, more bank statements, more deposits from Lusso Imports, another page, more deposits, charges at hotels, charges at clubs. No, Richard is a workaholic. He was always at work or at home working. He’s apologized dozens of times for it. Once we are married he promised he would cut back his hours.
A flick of Dominic’s wrist turns over pictures now. Screenshots of Richard with a woman on her social media, dated from a month ago. She’s beautiful, blonde, thin, blue eyes. Another screenshot of a different woman who could be the twin of the first woman, but her breasts are huge. This one is dated three weeks ago, another screenshot of another woman, it’s too much. Fake, these pictures have to be fake. I push them away.
But all of it? How could all of it be fake? Why? I want to scream. I want to cry but I can’t, not in front of these men. My thoughts are frantic, ping-ponging around my head at a thousand miles an hour. At the base of my skull pain is building and spreading. “I need to talk to Richard. I have to see his face, if I can just talk to him...I can know for sure. I want to talk to Richard.”
Dominic’s jaw works. “Richard Taylor is an evil, dangerous piece of shit. You aren’t getting anywhere near him, not now, not ever again.”
Doesn’t he get it? I have to talk to Richard. “Richard won’t hurt me. He would never hurt me.”
Shaking his head, Dominic looks to Kane. “Do you have cuffs or something? No zip ties, they cut into the skin.”
Kane nods. “Be right back.”
I push away from the table. Dominic’s hand is around my arm before I can blink. God, it would help if every time he touches me my stupid body wouldn’t come alive with electricity. Fear of what he does to me kicks my tongue into action. “Please let me go, let me talk to Richard. I need to talk to him.”
He doesn’t say a word; his eyes are on Kane.
Kane hands Dominic the cuffs. They don’t look like normal handcuffs. I’m grateful he doesn’t put my hands behind my back. I still hate him for using them at all.
They are a thick rubber or silicone, and even though I know it’s a waste of time I test them. There is no give, at least they don’t hurt. “Fuck you. I won’t marry you. I love Richard, you can’t make me stop loving him by showing me faked pictures and bogus bank statements.”
Dominic nods at Kane. “How about a gag?”
Kane laughs. “No gag. I have something to put her to sleep.”
I shake my head frantically. “Please, Dominic, no. I promise I’ll be good.” I’m terrified of being drugged and unaware of what’s happening.
He sighs as he looks down at me. “If you behave. Can you do that?”
I nod, fear closing my throat.
Kane reaches into his inner pocket and pulls out a wicked-looking gun. “Here’s the Sig P226 Diego said you wanted. Fifteen in the mag and one chambered, we included a suppressor as well as the ankle holster you asked for.”
I can’t tear my eyes away from the gun or the way Dominic handles it. He presses a button and the magazine slides out easily; he runs his hand down the bullets, reading it like braille. Then he slams it back into the gun. His movements are easy, practiced without a hint of showmanship the way some of the men who came to the condo were. It’s obvious he has handled a gun often.
He puts his foot on the chair he had been sitting in, straps on the holster, sliding the gun in, then adds the thin suppressor beside it. Once he lowers his pant leg, if I hadn’t known it was there I would never guess it.
Dominic nods at Kane. “Thanks, tell Valdez to extend coverage beyond a week. I’ll let him know when to stop.” His eyes meet mine. “With the way she’s been acting I don’t think a week is enough. Ears as well as eyes.”
“Done, he wasn’t thinking a week was long enough either. Good luck with her, she’s got some fire. I wouldn’t turn my back on her.”
“I figured that out already.” Dominic pushes me ahead of him.
5
Regina
Outside again, I take the time I hadn’t before to scan the area around us, and my heart sinks. It’s nothing but woods down a long gravel road. Running would get me nowhere but lost. Dominic opens the car, I hesitate, his hand tightens in warning around my arm. I give in and get in. I’m barely in the seat before he leans over me and secures the seat belt. It annoys the hell out of me the way my whole body is tingling from his hands on me. What the fuck is the matter with me?
I lean my head against the window, trying to think of a way out of this. Dominic gets into the car but he doesn’t start it. A heavy sigh comes out of him, filling the car. My eyes are drawn to him against my will. His head is back as if he were staring up at the ceiling. Except I’m pretty sure his eyes are closed.
“Johnny is dying, Regina. The doctors talk in terms of making him comfortable. He gave you to me because he wants to die in peace knowing you are going to be taken care of. That’s what he asked me to do, to protect you from this world and yourself.”
Dying? “He said the chemo and radiation...he said it worked. He’s going to be fine.”
A shake of his head. “They thought so. It was
his last checkup before he was going to move back to Chicago, six months ago he found out differently. He refuses to go through it again.” He shrugs. “Johnny has been given last rites. He put our family in order.”
Memories tumble one after another, the weight he’s lost, the priest who came to dinner, the men who came almost daily for a few weeks months ago. I close my eyes as I try to figure out what it is I’m feeling. Sadness, hollow... no pain. I tried, I wanted so badly to have a father, only we never connected. I’m not sure if it was because of the pain and anger I held on to from those long years of never hearing from him or because I still feel even two years later that I don’t know him.
It’s sad he’s dying, but I don’t think I’ll miss him. How could I miss someone I didn’t know and who didn’t know me? Johnny didn’t know my birth date, he didn’t even know my middle name, he knew nothing about me and he didn’t even try to learn. Those hours when I sat with him during his chemo treatments he talked about my mother, his mother, his son. He talked to me, he didn’t talk with me, and never once asked me a question about myself.
“I’m one more thing he put in order.” The words slip out of me, bitter in a way I’ve never tasted before.
“Something like that. I should have known when Pop gave me that smile this morning. In the family there is only one other man around your age suitable for marriage, and he’s not high enough to have pleased your father. With me a Sabatini, even though I am too fucking old for you as far as I’m concerned, Johnny would want our families tied together.”
“Your father, he’s Tony Sabatini. You’re Dom.” I’ve heard Francis and Danny and a few others talk about him. Except they referred to him as Dom, not Dominic, and they never said his last name or even Tony’s last name despite there being more than one Tony in the family. It was as if there was only one Tony that mattered.
Dominic was feared and respected, a good earner, a good killer. He maintained his territory and business with ruthless efficiency. Actually, the words they used were “he was a scary motherfucker that no one dared to go against.” They said he was a master negotiator, an extremely effective torturer, and he knew things, found things and people no one else could. The men around Johnny envied Dom and wanted to be him. There was also talk about how Dom had a steady string of mistresses, each of them more beautiful than the one before. When they talked about him I thought they were exaggerating; seeing him now, I know they were speaking the truth.