Chase the Pain: A Dark Mafia Billionaire Romance (Amatucci Family Book 1)

by Sadie Jacks

  Willow.

  I burst into the loft, expecting to see someone standing over her, a knife brandished in the low light. But it was just her. Still on the couch, huddled under her blanket. The low light from over the stove didn’t cast a lot of illumination.

  “Please don’t. Please don’t hurt her. I’ll try, Ethan. Please, she’s just a little girl.” The words sobbed from her chest as I crept closer to her spot on the sofa.

  She was flat on her back, arms down at her sides. Her beautiful eyes were open wide, but blind and shuttered as she watched the horror only she could see.

  “Willow?”

  She jerked. Tried to sink further into the cushions that supported her. “Shh, baby. Shh. Go somewhere else in your mind okay. He can’t hurt you in your mind.” Her hand twitched by her side as if she were trying to pet someone’s head. Only her fingers moved though.

  “Willow,” I said again. “Wake up.”

  Her eyes fell closed as her mouth twitched. “Shh.” It was more like a leaky hose than words, but her fingers continued to move.

  “Cupcake?” I tried. I didn’t want to move her, to have her wake up and find me leaning over her or touching her. That path led nowhere either of us wanted to go.

  Her breathing shifted, slowed slightly.

  “Cupcake. Wake up,” I said a little louder.

  She jackknifed into a seated position, her fists curled into claws. “You can’t hurt me now, you fucker.”

  My eyes widened as I shifted towards the kitchen. That could have been leveled at me or her phantom.

  “Cupcake, are you with me?” I moved back and flipped a light on without taking my eyes off of her.

  She slumped back down onto the couch as if she were a puppet and her strings had been cut.

  Fuck. “Cupcake. Answer me.”

  “You better have a good fucking reason for being back in my house when I told you to leave,” she said. Her tone was waspish and snappy.

  I almost sobbed out a breath. Thank fuck. “Well, next time you scream bloody murder, I’ll just leave you to your horrors.” I stomped towards the door, unsure I could talk to her without demanding answers. Forcing her mind down deeper, darker paths. “Lock the door behind me.”

  She laughed. It was hard and damp around the edges. “I would have done that the first time if I’d been able to, you asshole. Leave. I’ll be fine. Tali should be back any minute.”

  My hand curled around the knob, my anger pulsing in my brain when I heard her sob. I stiffened. No. Get your ass out the door. You don’t need this kind of trouble just to get into her pants, the asshole side of my psyche argued. She’s not going to put out anyway. Go call Synra, slake your thirst that way.

  Another sob broke through her control. Damn it. I stormed back across her apartment, scooped her ass up into my arms, and stalked to her bedroom.

  “Put me down, you motherfucker. Now.” She beat at me with her fists, scratched down my arms with her fingernails.

  “Stow it, cupcake. I know I’m an asshole. I’m a worthless human being at the end of it, but fuck if I’ll let you just cry yourself to sleep on the couch.” I swallowed back the rest of the words that crowded my mouth. Changed them. “Besides, your Amatuccis would have my ass. I’m not the masochist.”

  She stilled, held her body rigidly against me. We made it to her room. I bumped the light switch with my elbow. The messy bed from earlier beckoned me to just toss her into it. Be done with the whole night.

  Treat her like a princess. Grams’ voice floated through my head. I clenched my back teeth together. I didn’t need any other advice. My head was full enough as it was.

  I got Willow back to her feet. “What do you sleep in?”

  She jerked back as if I’d struck her. “No. Get out of my house, Penn. Now.” She tried to stomp her foot, but she couldn’t lift it very high.

  I felt a smile tug at my mouth. I tried to bite it back. But this whole situation was beyond ridiculous. I was literally fighting with a woman about putting on her PJs. Never in my life had I felt more like a perverted high schooler. I just wanted her to be comfortable, damn it. Was that so hard to believe?

  Her lips twitched. She gave me a stern look. “Now.” She pointed towards the door, her chin high in the air.

  I crossed my arms. Tried to wrestle my face back into angry lines. I failed.

  Her laughter burst from her in one giant yell. She tipped forward at the waist, her arms around her belly. “Don’t think that just because I’m laughing at you, I’m not still pissed off.”

  “Wouldn’t dream of it, cupcake.” I chuckled as I watched her stand back up.

  She truly was a thing of beauty. Her long hair curled along her slim back. Her tits were the perfect size. Her hips and ass enough to grab onto. Curves for days.

  “Get that look off your face, Penn. Not happening.” She stabbed her finger in my direction.

  “Not my fault I like the way you’re put together.” I shrugged.

  “No, but you don’t have to make me feel like a piece of meat in the grocery store. I’ve already told you: I’m not sleeping with you. You can be my friend, or you can get out of my life.”

  I rolled my lips in. Hummed. I tipped my head to the side. “Since I’ve met you, I’ve experienced a number of firsts. First time to lie to medical staff. First time to be a hero. First time I'm told a woman has to pee when I’m holding her in my arms. First time I’ve been accused of kidnapping. First time I’ve been flat out rejected before exchanging a kiss.” I studied her. “What is it about you that keeps interrupting my life, cupcake?”

  She shrugged. “Maybe you’ve just had a boring life, or you know some extremely boring people.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “Not my fault you hang out with the wrong crowd.”

  The irony of that statement had me tipping forward with laughter. She literally hung out with the mafia and was saying that I had the bad friend group? She was amazing.

  I straightened. “Look, I know things ended on a rocky spot with us. I’ve got a lot of shit in my life. You seem to have your fair share. I don’t want to add to yours.” I hoped she understood what I was trying to say.

  She licked her lips. “A one-sided friendship is a very lonely position, Penn. You can’t expect people to always give while you only take. That makes you a user, not a friend.”

  As if she’d held up a spotlight on my soul, I knew she was right. Taking was all I knew. It’s how I survived. How I’d succeeded in life instead of letting it pound me into hell.

  I nodded. “You’re right.” I swiped a hand over my face. “I’m sorry.”

  Her eyes were the size of saucers when I brought my gaze to hers.

  “What?” I wiped my face again, hoping nothing was on it. Not that there really could have been.

  She shook her head. “I didn’t see you as someone who said he was sorry.”

  I clutched at my chest dramatically.

  She rolled her eyes. “You’ve got that whole ‘I’m the master of my universe and you should bow before me’ vibe going on. Not a lot of apologizing going on in that worldview. At least not from you.”

  One of my eyebrows raised. She wasn’t wrong. I’d made my life tidy enough that I didn’t apologize for much. “You’re right. I’m not a good friend. Hell, I’m not really a friend at all. Good, bad, or otherwise.”

  She snorted a laugh. “And yet you want me in your bed? If you’re not a good friend, why do you think you’re a good lover?” She raised a brow.

  “I’ve not had any complaints. And none of my lovers ended up in—” I cut the thought off. Winced.

  She let loose a low whistle. “Wow. I’m not sure that comparing yourself to my ex is something you really want to do. That’s a really low bar of measure.” She tapped a finger to her lower lip. “How about this? When you figure out how to be a good friend, come back and find me?”

  What the fuck? She wanted me to be her friend before I could fuck her? That’s ridiculous. Men and women could
n’t be friends. Not really. “What?” I couldn’t have heard her right.

  She sighed, dropped her arms. “Look, Ryker, I like you. I think you’re fun—when you’re not being an asshole. But I don’t need any more greedy people in my life. Been there, lived that, some bastard stole the t-shirt. So, if you ever want this to work out,” she flicked her finger between our bodies a couple times, “then you need to figure out how to be a good friend. I’m not giving up my celibacy just so you can get your rocks off. You’ve got a hand or bevy of beauties panting at your feet, I’m sure.”

  I was dumbstruck. That was the biggest load of shit I’d ever heard. No. Not just no—fuck no. I didn’t dance to anyone’s tune. Nor was I anyone’s puppet. I was the master who danced those strings around.

  “What about my helping you lately? Does that earn me any friend points?” The words popped out of my mouth before my brain could erase them.

  Her eyes widened. “You want a points system for friendship?”

  Hey, I might be able to get that to work. How hard would it be to pretend? Hell, the last couple of days certainly hadn’t been a huge hardship. If I could get under her skin enough to make her slide more to my end, maybe I could get her under me faster.

  I slapped a look of chagrined embarrassment on my face, bumped a shoulder in the air. “Sure. I’ve already told you I’m not anyone’s friend. I honestly don’t know how to be one. So the points would be an objective measure that I could use to see if I’m going in the right direction.” I had no idea the shit that was falling from my mouth, but I could only hope she bought it. Otherwise, I was out. And I knew, deep down, that I would regret not sampling her.

  She crossed her arms again, looked up at me. Judging, weighing, thinking. “Who would give you the points?”

  “You. Or your brothers.”

  She smiled at that comment. “If you’re a shitty friend?”

  “Then I lose some.” Yes. Keep following whatever track that is, cupcake. I can play along with the best Oscar winner.

  She tipped her head to the side. “How many points do you think would make you a good friend?”

  “Ten.”

  Cupcake’s head tipped all the way back as she laughed. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she bent forward.

  I narrowed my eyes at her as she grabbed her belly. The little jerk. “I don’t know that that kind of laughter is very friendly.”

  She waved that comment away, tried to get her laughter under control. “Ten.” She blew out a breath. Tried to pinch the corners of her mouth together. “I was thinking either fifty or a good, solid hundred.”

  “What the fuck? How good of friends are you expecting us to be? I refuse to buy you tampons or listen to you rattle on about your period. I’ve got to draw the line somewhere.” I slashed my hand through the air.

  Her face turned beet red as it scrunched up. Once again, a huge belly laugh exploded from her.

  This time, when she tipped her head back, I put two fingers against her sternum and gave her a little push. She toppled over onto the bed. Her laughter cut off super quick. Like she’d been electrocuted, or her throat had been cut.

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” she glared up at me. All traces of humor gone.

  “When this shitshow of an evening started, I promised to make your legs feel better. Since I’m trying to be a good friend, I figured I might as well keep that promise.” I helped her get straight on the bed.

  She scowled at me. “Literally pushing me around isn’t going to get you any points, Ten.”

  I shook my head. “No. You are not calling me that.”

  A smirk lit up her face.

  Damn it. I should have just left it alone. “Where’s your lotion or oil or whatever?”

  She blinked at me like she didn’t speak English.

  I waved my hand in front of her face. “Hello? You still in there, cupcake?”

  She shook herself. “Yes. But why do you need to know where it is?”

  My brow furrowed. “How did you think I was going to make your legs feel better?”

  “Certainly not by touching me. I don’t like people touching me.”

  I raised a brow. “You didn’t mind during lunch,” I said softly.

  Her cheeks heated.

  She wasn’t immune to me. I could work with that. I knew all kinds of stuff she would probably enjoy. I could get her to dance to my side of the line. No harm, no foul.

  “Besides, you can’t move your legs very well. Which is keeping all the cellular debris of the bruising stuck exactly where it is. Lymphatic massage can help not only with the swelling but also help reduce the appearance of the bruising. If done often enough, it can help your blood vessels heal faster as well.”

  She narrowed her eyes at me as her gaze flicked back and forth between my eyes. It was nothing but the truth, so I didn’t have anything to hide from her probing gaze.

  “No funny business. I need to be able to walk this weekend. I don’t want to call in the cavalry, so I need to be as healed as possible. If I let you touch me, do you swear to keep it platonic?”

  Fuck. Fine. I nodded. “I promise.” I held out my hand for her to shake.

  She studied me again. Looked between my hand and my eyes several times. Slowly, so slowly it felt like I was watching glacier caps melting, she put her hand in mine and we shook on the promise.

  “Good. Now that that’s finally settled, where’s your lotion?” I asked as I straightened.

  She pointed to the bathroom. “Cabinet beside the toilet. Upper left corner.”

  I nodded. “You going to sleep in your dress?” I asked as I moved to the bathroom.

  “No. But I’m not getting naked in front of you either. So you’ll just have to deal with it.”

  I laughed softly as I opened the cabinet door. Right where she said it’d be. I grabbed the bottle, headed back out to the bedroom.

  “Can you touch your toes?” I asked her.

  Her face screwed up in confusion. “Huh?”

  I rolled my eyes at her. “Can you touch your toes?” I enunciated each word carefully.

  She nodded as she glared at me.

  “Fine. Then tell me what you want to wear to bed. I’ll get it for you. You can put it on under your dress. When you’re set, take your dress off. I just need to be able to get to your thighs. Humans have large pockets of lymph nodes in their groins and behind their knees. We’re going to be forcing both into overtime with this massage.”

  She didn’t move.

  I clapped my hands at her. “Chop, chop, cupcake. I’m not sure you’d like your brothers to see you with my hands all over your legs.”

  She jerked and pointed to her closet. “Built-ins just inside the door on the left. Boy shorts in the top drawer. Tank on a hanger. Black, for both.”

  I put the lotion down and moved to her closet. Got the items and returned. I got the panties set up for her on the floor so all she had to do was slide her legs into the holes and pull them up. I grabbed the lotion bottle. “I’m going into the kitchen to warm this up. Be ready by the time I get back or I’ll finish helping you.”

  Spinning on my heel, I walked out before she could say anything else. My hands were shaking slightly as I got a bowl down from the cabinet. Just friends. Just friends. Just friends. I was finally getting to touch her. Start my slow seduction of her body. Her mind.

  I dumped a small bit of lotion into the bowl and placed it in the microwave for thirty seconds. It was the perfect temperature and consistency when I pulled it out. I grabbed a spoon and headed back to the bedroom.

  “Ready or not, here I come.”

  Chapter 23 – Willow

  I scrambled to pull the boyshorts up my legs before he came back in the room. Getting my dress off and my tank on had taken entirely too much of the one minute he’d given me. With a wince, I crashed back onto the bed as I heard his footsteps reach the outside of my doorway.

  Holy cannoli that had been close.

  “W
here are your extra towels?” he asked.

  I looked over at him. He was stirring something in a bowl, his gaze fixed to my body. And not my legs.

  I glared at him. Not that he noticed. I snapped my fingers. Waited until he raised his gaze to my eyes. “Friends, Ten. Friends.”

  He grimaced and glared. “I already hate that nickname. Towels?”

  I pointed him back towards the bathroom. “Same cabinet, lower right.” I was keeping that nickname until a better one came along. It was so very fitting. In a number of ways.

  Ryker came back out of the bathroom. A towel draped over one arm, a glass bowl with something white in it. He set both on the floor next to my bed.

  Reaching down his hands, he waited for me to grab them so he could lift me up. I wasn’t planning on him swinging me up into his arms and settling me on his shoulder.

  “Hey!” I slapped his lower back. “Put me down.”

  He clamped an arm over the bend in my knees. “Hold still or I’ll drop you. I need to put this towel down first so we don’t ruin your sheets or blanket.”

  I stilled and tried to not move. I really didn’t want to get dropped on my head because he was busy fiddling with a towel.

  Once his arms stopped moving all around, he moved to the foot of my bed. I felt him dip down towards the floor. “Just fall back onto the bed. It’s all ready for you,” he said, his voice a little muffled.

  Right. He’s assuming I have abs or back muscles. I reached down, levered myself up with my hands against his back until I was upright in his arms. With a prayer, I tipped backwards and landed on the bed with a big, “OOF!”

  He chuckled as he stood back up. “Graceful.”

  I glared at him. Tried to get up into a reclining position. I wanted to see what this supposed lymphatic massage was supposed to be.

  With his hand flat on my forehead, he pushed my head back down. “Just lay back. I need you flat, not cutting off the circulation at your hips.”

  “So I just lay here and think of England?” I muttered.