End Game (A Dark Romance)

by Waltz, Vanessa

  “Probably sprained it,” he murmurs. “You’ll have to keep off it for a few days.”

  “If I’m still alive, that is.”

  He looks up at me under dark strands of his hair and swallows hard. “Marisa—”

  A cold feeling fills my chest. He stood over that corpse with perfect indifference, as if blowing out someone’s brain was no big deal. “You killed that man like it was nothing.”

  The hard look returns to his face. “What do you care about some wiseguy in Jersey?”

  “I don’t. It was just…” Unnerving. Scary as fuck. Take your pick.

  Joe seems to understand from the way I flinch from his gaze. And yet, I am not filled with disgust. What he did shocked me, horrified me, but he was protecting me.

  Will he still protect me?

  The doorbell rings and the air leaves my chest so suddenly, I feel like I’m in a vacuum. I grab his hand without thinking, but he yanks it out of my grip and strides to the door. Already, I see his personality hardening, his movements more purposeful and calculated. I look around the bedroom when I hear a familiar voice outside his door. Joe opens the door and a man I recognize as one of Jack’s lackeys steps inside. Two other men join him.

  “Vince.”

  The older guy who sneered at me when they broke into my apartment gives Joe a quick hug and looks over his shoulder, right at me. It’s an accusatory stare. I clench the sheets on the bed.

  “Where’s the body?”

  “In my car.”

  Vincent’s dark eyes look around the apartment rapidly as he thinks, and then he turns to the two men. “Take Joe’s car to the shop. No head and no hands, do you understand me?”

  My stomach boils with fear and disgust. What’s going to happen? They’re not going to saw off his fucking head, are they?

  But Joe, who didn’t flinch at killing a man, certainly has experience disposing of them as well.

  I had no idea who I was dealing with this whole time.

  It turns my stomach just thinking about the chunks of brain sitting in the parking lot, the way his eyes rolled up in his head before he hit the ground.

  The two guys nod solemnly and Joe unclips the keys to his car, slapping them into their waiting hands. They’re gone in a flash.

  Vince closes the door behind him carefully. “Who the fuck was he? What happened?”

  Joe sighs and sits down at the kitchen table. I can’t stand waiting in here, hearing everything and yet not being part of their conversation.

  “Someone from Jersey, who said he had a message for your wife from Carmine.”

  Two juxtaposing forces fight over the older man’s face. First, there’s the pale of cold blanching his face as he sits down on the chair, shortly followed by fiery heat. He lunges for the stray beer bottle sitting on the table. His fingers tighten around it, whitened, until I’m sure it’s going to explode in his hands.

  “That piece of shit—that fucking piece of shit—What was the message?”

  “I didn’t let him talk very long. Vince, I get the feeling he was just trying to get under your skin, that’s all.”

  Vince explodes, sounding like a mad bull. “WELL IT FUCKING WORKED!” He seizes the beer bottle and throws it across the room. I flinch at the sound of it shattering into a million different pieces.

  “Control yourself, for fuck’s sake.”

  But he can’t.

  “What the fuck did you just say to me? He threatened my wife again. He should have been killed months ago. I don’t understand why our contacts in prison haven’t done their fucking job!”

  “Keep it down.”

  My heart feels like it’s going to burst. It’s escalating—the whole thing is. I’m hearing things I have no business hearing. I’m seconds away from lunging forward and locking the door.

  “Vince, we don’t have time for this shit. They’re trying to take Worlds Casino from us. They’ve been leaning on her all this time, and probably the other shareholders to get them to sell to Lences Holdings.”

  “Her?”

  “Her.”

  Joe nods his head towards me, and Vincent’s unbottled fury aims itself directly towards me. I launch at the door, slamming it shut and ramming the bolt home as he slams into the door.

  God, what’s going on?

  I hear Joe behind him, trying to calm him down, but he won’t have it. A vivid flash of Nathan trying to beat down my bedroom door as Jessica tried to calm him down burns into my mind.

  “Just open the door!” she screamed. “It’ll be worse if you don’t!”

  “OPEN THE FUCKING DOOR, YOU BITCH!”

  “She didn’t know about your history with Carmine. Will you calm the fuck down?”

  The screams ring in my ears as I search his bedroom, yanking open drawer after drawer. What am I looking for? I sweep my hands under his pillow and my fingers touch something cool and metallic. I drag it out from under the pillow. It’s heavy in my hands.

  Oh, God. I don’t know if this is the right thing to do.

  The wood breaks as he kicks open the door.

  I point the gun at the door.

  Aim.

  The door slams open and a furious Vince bursts into the room. He backs up when he sees the gun pointed straight to his heart.

  “G—get the fuck away from me.” My voice sounds strange. I hardly know who it belongs to.

  Joe enters the room, but I only have eyes for the man who kicked open the door, who looks at me like he’d love to rip my head off. His chest pulses as he raises his hands, a sneer widening his face. It sends dizzying jolts of fear to my head.

  “Drop that fucking gun, or I’ll shove it up your cunt.”

  I raise the gun to his face, my hands trembling more than ever. He’s fucking evil, whoever this guy is.

  “Will you fucking let me handle this?”

  “Handle this?” he turns around for a moment, ignoring me, to Joe’s white face. “You fucking let this broad lead you around by your dick. You were supposed to control her. Instead, she made you into the biggest fucking jerk-off in New York. If I had known fucking her would have turned you into a jamook, I would have sent someone else to deal with her.”

  Deal with her?

  For a moment, I look at Joe’s strained face, which gives me a guilty look. “What did you expect me to do? Beat it out of her?”

  “You’ve gone soft! Ever since your sister died—”

  Joe grabs the lapels of Vince’s jacket and slams him into the wall, his face inches from Vincent’s. “Don’t you ever talk about my sister.”

  “Fine,” he sneers. “All I’m saying is that she has your fucking gun, and she’s pointing it right at you.”

  His hands drop from Vincent’s throat and he turns around to look at me, his expression calm. Vincent takes a large step towards me, and I swing my arm towards him.

  Joe raises his hands. “Drop the gun, Marisa. You don’t want to do this.”

  “Yes, she does.” Vincent’s eyes glitter as he stares at me.

  “Will you shut up?”

  “I’ll drop it when he leaves. Don’t!” My finger trembles over the trigger, the gun still aimed at his heart.

  It frightens me to see his complete lack of fear. There’s something wrong with both of them. They’re both deranged.

  “I know something you fucking don’t.”

  “W—what?”

  He lunges forward and I pull the trigger several times, but nothing happens. I scream as he wrestles it out of my hands and then he gives me a slap that makes tears rush to my face. I fall on the bed and cover my burning face.

  “The safety was on,” he says coolly. He slams the gun into Joe’s chest, who takes it numbly. “I need to tell Jack about this shit. You watch that bitch and keep her here.”

  “There’s a board meeting at the end of the week.”

  Vince gives me a contemptuous look. “You’re going to send me as a proxy to handle shit while we figure out what to do with you.”

&nbs
p; “Vince, I don’t know if the guy I did was made or not.”

  He shakes his head. “Doesn’t matter. It was always going to come to this. Fucking Carmine.”

  It’s weird to see them talking to each other like nothing happened between them. They walk out of the bedroom and their voices fade as they say good-bye. The door slowly closes and the stifling silence descends over me. I’m still frozen on the bed. I can’t even look up with Joe reenters the room with the gun still in his hands. It makes a loud noise when he tosses it on the dresser. Then he sits down next to me.

  The weight of his body depresses the bed and I sink closer to him. It's like sitting too close to a roaring fire. It’s so hot that it actually burns my skin, but it’s better than backing away from its heat and feeling the cold sting my limbs.

  His head turns towards me and I feel his breath hiss over my face. “You’ve made a huge fucking mess. Aiming a gun at my underboss was fucking stupid.”

  “H—he was crazy. I thought he was going to kill me.”

  He lets out something that might be a laugh. “Yeah, well, he’s a bit crazy when it comes to protecting his wife.”

  A part of me wonders if that overprotective streak runs inside him as well.

  He stood up for me, didn’t he? Even though he had nothing to gain from it.

  “Joe, I don’t know what to say. I’m so sorry.”

  The energy he displayed when Vincent was in the room seems to have deflated. “You made me look really bad in front of him.”

  I feel like disappearing under his look of cold disapproval. “I didn’t mean to do that to you.”

  “From now on, you’ll do what I say, when I say it.”

  “But, Joe—”

  I get one look of his darkened face before his palm spreads on my chest and shoves me backwards. My back hits his bed and Joe’s stomach brushes over mine as he climbs over me. I feel lightheaded as I lay under him, remembering how amazing it felt when our clothes were shed and he was thrusting over me. The look he gives me makes me want to shrink into the covers.

  “I’m done being the nice guy, so shut up and listen. You fucked up under my watch. I risked my neck to save your ass, so that means you’re mine.”

  My skin burns when his hand wraps around my wrist, and all I want is for him to be sweet, but the way he says ‘you’re mine’ sends a hot trail down my body from my breasts to my core. The other plays devil’s advocate on my neck. I gasp for air when he touches my chest, tracing my collarbone. The hands stroking me killed a man. He probably has killed many. How can they be so gentle with me?

  “I’m really sorry.” My fingers tentatively reach out for his face, still frozen in stony disapproval, and sweep under his jaw. He doesn’t throw off my hand, which I take as a good sign. The stubble scratches my palm as I wrap my hand around his neck, my fingers brushing over the hair at the back of his neck. “How can I make it up to you?”

  When he speaks, I feel his voice through my hand.

  “It’ll take a lot of work on your end.”

  “Joe, I’m serious. I don’t want you to hate me, too.”

  “Why do you care?”

  My throat is thick. A sharp pain suddenly pounds through my skull. “You’re the only person in my life who’s looking out for me.”

  The muscles in his face loosen up. “I’m not going to be your hero, Marisa. If they decide that you’re dead, that’s what’s going to happen. I can’t stop it.”

  When I look at him, I still believe that he’ll do anything in his power to help me. Maybe that’s delusional.

  “I know that you care about me on some level.”

  His hand tightens over my wrist. “Shut up.” He growls the insult right before his biting lips and teeth fall over my mouth. His body sinks into mine and I relish at the contact. The movements of his hands on my skin are rough. He pins me on his bed, his weight pressing into me. The somber expression he wears is replaced by a mad frenzy. He grabs my jaw and squeezes hard as he pulls back, looking enraged for some reason that completely escapes me.

  “When I found out about my sister’s death, the first thing I wanted to do was torture and kill the prick who did it, but he was in jail. Unreachable. So for a long time, I did that for Jack, until every human feeling was purged from my body. I wanted to do it. It was an outlet for my rage, even though I got a bit carried away at times and went too far. Then I found out he had a brother and put him in the hospital. I didn’t kill him, but I wanted to. Even though he had nothing to do with what happened to my sister. That’s the kind of man I am.”

  Joe’s horrifying confession steals the breath from my voice. He gives me a black look, unrecognizable from the charming, sensitive man I’ve spent so much time with.

  What if it was an act? It was all an act to deceive me, so that he could fuck me and get close to me.

  I’ve no time to process this horrifying theory, because Joe relinquishes my jaw and rummages in the nightstand for something. A metallic sound makes my blood chill.

  “No, don’t!”

  “I don’t trust you.”

  He takes one of my wrists and slaps the handcuffs on until they cut into my skin. He attaches the other end to his headboard. I yank against it, only succeeding in hurting myself.

  Joe stretches his length down his bed and props his head on his hand, looking at me wolfishly. “I could get used to seeing you tied up like this.”

  The fallen photos, the gun sitting on the coffee table, the shattered glass sitting in his living room, and the wolfish grin he gives me—they’re all pieces from a shattered mind. “You’re really, really sick.”

  “Yes, I am. I also want you really fucking bad right now.”

  I can tell by looking at the hard bulge in his pants. I get a strange thrill out of it, and then I wonder if I’m sick, too. He slides up against me and I shiver from his closeness. Light fingers trace my collarbone and dip down to my blouse.

  Snap.

  Snap.

  Snap.

  He destroys button after button, his fingers teasing my skin as he works down. It’s hell. I don’t want to feel anything but revulsion for him, but he brings me a fucking intense emotional high. It’s like a switch flipping in my brain, and I forget everything about him that’s supposed to scare me. If that’s evolution, then I’m headed for extinction.

  He leans over my body and his lips fall on mine, kissing me under my head and down my neck, to the swell of my breasts. His tongue swirls around my flesh and the room echoes with my harsh gasps. Suddenly, he unclasps my bra and pushes the strap off my unhooked arm, along with my blouse. The high reaches a crescendo as he grabs my breasts. His teeth bite down hard, and it’s painful, but the red mark swelling on them reminds me that I’m his, and my pussy builds with heat when I realize what that means.

  Electricity shoots from his lips into my body as he kisses a trail down my stomach, biting hard along the way, until he stops at my slacks. He suddenly cups my pussy, feeling the heat under his hands. He looks up, grinning at my flushed face.

  “You just can’t resist me, can you?”

  “No.”

  He plants a kiss on my stomach as he unzips my pants and tugs. They catch on my thighs, the slippery fabric offering slight resistance as he pulls them down my legs. It feels like his hands are caressing me. My panties swiftly follow suit; a thrill beating in my chest as they slide off my ankles and fall off. He spreads my legs apart, the air stinging the place between my legs. He plants a kiss on my upper thigh, and I tremble. It’s much too close.

  Then he slides his thumb over my incredibly wet clit, and he lets out another chuckle.

  “I guess you like being tied up.”

  “No, I just like you.”

  A smirk spreads on his face. “I like you, too. Especially this part of you.”

  His head disappears between my legs and my heart is like a ping-pong ball in my chest. Oh, fuck. I can feel his hot breath billowing over my pussy, and I contract hard. What’s he doing? />
  And then I feel it. It’s the most incredible sensation I’ve ever experienced. His hard wet tongue reaches all the way back and licks me.

  “Oh, Joe!”

  I scream out his name, my reaction visceral. I can’t control it any more than I can control him. His tongue massages my clit as one hand keeps my thighs apart, the other spreads over my stomach. Holy shit. Holy shit. His hot mouth closes over my clit and he sucks, and I arch my back again.

  “No, don’t! Please!”

  It’s too much. It’s torture. His tongue actually slides inside me, burying deep, sliding out to flick my clit hard. Then he closes his mouth over me and sucks hard. My legs tighten around his head and I jerk against my restraint. Part of me wants him to never stop, the other, louder part wants him to just fuck me already. I feel my juices running down my thighs, into his mouth. The sucking, wet noises drive me mad.

  “Joe, I need you. Oh, God. I need you.”

  “I know.” I feel his breath on me. His lips transfer to my inner thigh, and he sucks hard until there’s a bright mark.

  “Please!”

  Begging seems to have a profound effect on him. He sits up and tears off his shirt, removing his pants and briefs just as quickly, and then my legs wrap around his waist. I feel the cleft of his cock, pressing between my legs. Intense ecstasy fills my lungs with a sigh as he slides in, his body covering mine. Joe’s face descends over mine, taut with the effort of restraining himself. I take his wet lips in mine, tasting myself as his tongue forces through my lips. He doesn’t let me go, even when I moan.

  The force of him rutting me deep knocks the breath out of my lungs. It steals it away and lifts me high. His cock pulses, ramming me so hard that my head hits the headboard. He pulls my shoulders down and holds me still, fucking me as grunts of pleasure explode from his mouth. My legs lift up to his shoulders and I feel him stabbing my insides. I’ve never given myself so completely to a man—never been able to hand it over like this. Never wanted to, either. He keeps shattering everything I think I know about myself. I thought I knew enough, but I didn’t know shit. I didn’t know how amazing he’d feel. Every movement he makes is calculated to emphasize our senses. The sound of his voice, ragged with desire for me, makes me want to come.