I don’t know what it is about this broad that has me making poor decisions left and right. I don’t know if it’s her curves, that little pout she has that shows me she’s hurting, or that snappy little attitude that comes out of nowhere.
I fucking love the spitfire my sweetheart is. I can’t fucking wait for her to go off on me again so I can spank that ass of hers. Next thing I know my dick's hard, pressing against my zipper. I let my head fall back, but keep my eyes on the road. And then I hear her thumping away in the back. What the fuck is wrong with me? I’m never getting in that pussy again. I’m the fucking enemy now.
She probably doesn’t even remember that hot as fuck pregaming session we had. Shit. She'd better not. She'd better not remember anything more than my name. I shift uncomfortably in my seat and let out a deep sigh. This is so fucked.
At that thought I realize I have no fucking clue what I’m gonna do with her now. I could bring her to my room and pretend we had a one-night stand. That makes sense. I took her out to the bar, we got drunk, had a great night together. Boom, it’s done and over with. My chest pains at the thought. I don’t want it to be over with. I don’t like that option. But I’m sure as shit not bringing her around the family after this. Tommy and Anthony are the only ones that know. They know better than to tell Pops. That’s my job. My responsibility.
I look down at the watch and see it’s been two hours since she woke up. That means she’s gonna need another dose soon. She shouldn’t remember any of this shit with that drug in her system.
Calling it a sleeping aid was a shit thing to do. It wasn't a blatant lie, but it’s not like I’m gonna tell her I roofied her. I don’t want to give her the impression that we do that kind of shit on vulnerable women, 'cause we don’t. It comes in handy when you wanna take out someone high up though. It's much easier to take a knocked out fucker to the pits than having to fight him on his own territory. Of course she didn’t get the same dose we use for that kind of thing. It’s hard to know how much even got into her system though. Tommy just shoved it in her mouth, and as a result she nearly bit his finger off.
My stomach knots and twists. I’m kidnapping and drugging this woman. What a fucking low point in my life. I really hope this fucking works. Anthony swore by it. He’s real fucking good at getting information from people, and when he asks what happened right before he drugged them and they still don’t know even after spending an hour on his table, then they really have no fucking clue. And that means the drug works. It had better work. But she remembered my name. Tomorrow morning, I need to determine everything she remembers.
I put my hand on the seat of my Audi just like normal, and that’s when I realize Rigs isn’t with me.
Fuck. I look into the rear-view mirror and there’s no one there. I can’t risk going back to my place with her in the trunk though. I’ll have to go back later to pick up my dog. I’ll drop her off at the safe house, and then I’ll go back to my place in the city to pick up his furry little ass. I sure as hell can’t leave him at my place by himself. He’d probably chew up the coffee table just to spite me. I really hope he didn’t shit in my house though. I swear puppies are worse than babies. They have to be. Dom’s little one just chews on the toys they give him and he can’t move, like a little sack of potatoes.
A small grin kicks my lips up, but it vanishes when I hear another bang from the trunk. Fucking hell. I wish she’d calm her ass down. She’s gonna think we had some real rough sex last night and that I tied her ass up. I groan and adjust my cock as it twitches with need. I’d love to fuck this woman. I want inside her more than I’ve ever wanted anything before. But there’s no way that’s happening, not with all this shit.
I really fucked this up.
Elle
My wrists burn as the rope chafes against them. But I don’t stop struggling. I won’t stop. I know if I can just get my hands free then I’ll be able to untie my legs. There’s enough room for me to wiggle around and search for the latch. There’s always a latch in these cars.
I take a deep, extremely unsteady breath and focus on loosening the knot. My shoulders hurt so fucking bad. Every bump we go over sends my body bouncing and I land hard on my side. I have nothing to brace my head against either. My neck hurts from trying to brace myself every time we hit a bump.
My throat is killing me from screaming and my eyes feel raw. It’s a horrible feeling, knowing you’re going to die. I just don’t understand why he hasn’t done it yet. He’s not going to let me go. More tears prick at my eyes. My hand covers my mouth to hold back the sob. He’s keeping me. My body shivers and I pull my legs up to my chest and rock myself.
I can’t believe this is what I am now. A prisoner. He’s going to do whatever he wants with me. I’m completely at his mercy. The tears fall down my face. I rub my cheek on my knee, to wipe the tears away, and try to steady my breath. Maybe that’s not it. Or maybe I can appeal to that side of him. A flicker of hope lights inside of me. I just need to get out of here. However I can.
I’m so god damn tired. I feel dizzy and my head is killing me. I just want to go to sleep, but I can’t. I want to fight this. I don’t want to fall asleep. I can’t just lie down and let him do whatever the fuck he wants with me. I’m going to fight as long as I can. Confusion overwhelms me again. I just don’t understand why my memory is so passionate, giving me a feeling of comfort and safety, but my reality is the exact opposite.
The brakes slow again, and this time the car stills and I hear the click of him parking the car. My heartbeat picks up to a frantic pace. I failed. I couldn’t get out of these fucking ropes or find a trunk latch anywhere. Fear cripples me as he pops open the trunk. I try to scream through the gag, but it’s useless.
“Come on sweetheart, did you really think I’d take you to somewhere you would be heard?” He looks at me like he’s disappointed. I don’t know what he expects from me. “Be a good girl for me and make things easy for us both, alright?” Is he out of his god damned mind?
I try to scoot away from him, but it’s useless. It's not like there's a ton of extra room in the trunk. I don’t even realize he’s untying the rope around my legs though until he starts massaging my calves. A moan of satisfaction leaves me. I didn’t realize how sore they were until he brought more circulation to them. His large, rough hands move to my wrists and as the ease of comfort coupled with slight pain hits me, he rubs my shoulders, bringing them back to life.
“I’m sorry about that,” he apologizes, and he sounds truly sincere. His thumbs move in small circles on my back, and then travel up to my shoulders and down my arms. “But you weren’t really cooperating.”
His excuse pisses me off. What he’s doing is not fucking okay. I can’t remember a damn thing. Ergo, there’s no reason for me to be here. They should’ve just let me go. I close my eyes as his soothing touch relieves the ache. I try to remember.
I recall that moment when he introduced himself with his handsome smirk after I heard his deep masculine voice state, “I’m Vince.” That moment flashes before me and sends a warmth through my body. That memory is followed by the feeling of my back arching on the hard, cold desk while his mouth licks and sucks at my clit. Fuck! I force my heavy eyes open as his arms wrap around me, bringing me close to his hot, hard body. I push away from him and snap, “I can walk.”
His pissed off expression makes me want to cower, but he slowly puts me down and lets my feet find purchase on the ground.
I hate that I gave myself to him. I clench my thighs again. I don’t feel any different. I’m not sore at all. More than anything, my clit is swollen with the need for his touch. I have no idea what all we did, but it’s more than I’ve ever done before, at least on the receiving end. I’ve never had anyone go down on me. My cheeks flame with embarrassment.
I take one step forward with his hand resting lightly on the small of my back. I look up at the house. It’s not large, but it’s not small either. A country home, with light blue shutters and a porch swing. It looks like a pictu
re-perfect home, out in the middle of nowhere with a dirt driveway. My eyes dart to the left--nothing but a flat field. My eyes dart to the right--woods.
Seeing the woods and knowing we’re alone terrifies me. My body turns to ice.
He’s going to kill me. My feet stumble and I nearly lose my balance. I take a ragged breath. I can’t do this. Anxiety makes my blood race and adrenaline pumps through my veins. I can’t handle this shit. My throat closes.
“You okay?” Vince asks me, and again I’m confused by the concern in his voice. I don’t know what’s going on. I wish I could remember. I swallow thickly and nod my head, righting myself. I wish all this were over with. I close my eyes and remember how he choked me against the wall. I can’t. I can’t go in there with him. I won’t make it out alive.
I may not be strong, but I don’t have to be. Not physically, anyway. I push my heavy body forward and shove my elbow right into his spleen. I saw someone do it in a movie once. I hear a gush of air push out of him and his groan of pain as he topples forward, but I don’t waste a second. I force my body to move and sprint toward the woods. Everything is a blur. My heart isn’t steady, and my ankle nearly rolls, but I push forward. I lose one of my flats, but I don’t spare a moment to even consider it.
My bare foot pounds against the grass as I race to the edge of the woods. I can hear him getting up. He’ll catch up to me in no time. If only I can get into the woods far enough to hide. It’s dark out. I can hide. I need to be able to hide. My feet slam against the ground. I feel the cold dirt on the sole of my bare foot. My heart hammers faster. Branches whip by my face. I duck to avoid as many as I can. I brace my body against a thick tree trunk and try to keep my balance. The rough bark scratches against my skin.
I heave in a breath and then scream as Vince’s body slams into mine, knocking me to the ground. His large body pins me down. His hips spread my legs apart and his knees land on my thighs, pushing my body open and forcing me to stay beneath him. He pins my wrists above my head with one hand, and his other hand wraps around my throat. I let out a scream, but he doesn’t put any pressure on my throat. Instead, he's just merely gripping it. I try to buck him off of me, but it’s hopeless.
He growls into my ear. “You can’t fucking listen, can you?” I close my eyes and whimper.
“I don’t want to die.” My murmur is barely more than a whisper.
“You’re not fucking acting like it.” His hand tightens on my throat, and his hips push harder into mine.
For a moment my eyes flash to an image of him on top of me, pounding into me, ruthlessly rutting between my legs. My body heats at the thought. I can see us just like this. I turn my head to the side and refuse to think about it. My body flames with need, but I deny it. I’m so ashamed. So confused.
“You need to fucking listen to me.” He clenches his teeth and slowly lets go of my wrists. I don’t move. I stay as still as possible. He grips my chin and forces me to look at him, but I keep my eyes closed. He squeezes tighter and I instinctively open my eyes. His sharp, dark gaze stares back at me.
“Don’t fight me,” he commands. “You will obey me.” His words send another shot of arousal through me, but thankfully he’s already on his feet and pulling my nearly limp body up onto his. He slings me over his shoulder to carry me away like some kind of primitive caveman.
I don’t know what to think. I don’t understand why I feel this way.
I don’t have a choice in any of this.
Vince
I can’t believe she fucking ran. My blunt fingernails dig into a tender part of her waist as I drag her body back to the house, with my hand gripping her hip. She’s not walking fast enough, not making this easy, but at least she’s not fighting.
“That wasn’t a smart thing for you to do, sweetheart,” I mumble under my breath. I’m pissed off. I’m really fucking pissed off. I’m trying to help this girl. I’m going out of my way and risking my own ass for hers. If she got out… My blood runs cold thinking what would happen. For a split second, the choice is obvious. I can’t allow it to happen. There’s only one way to make sure she never talks. I don’t trust that she got a high enough dose. And neither will the familia.
I shake my head and pull her closer to me. “Walk with me, Elle. Stop making this so fucking hard.” My voice reflects my anger. She quickens her pace and I take a look at her as we near the porch. Her face is red from panting, her cheeks stained with tears. Her shirt’s ripped from falling down earlier, and there are scrapes on her knees.
My heart sinks in my chest. I’m such a fucking asshole for being angry with her. I’d run, if I were in her shoes. First chance I got, I’d fucking bolt. How can I blame her? She has no idea what’s going on. Other than the fact that I’m not letting her go, and that some people in the familia want her dead.
I look down at her feet. She lost one shoe somewhere back there, and her bare foot is dirty and bleeding from running through the forest. My poor sweetheart. I stop at the door and sigh. “Are you going to listen to me?”
Her wide, frightened eyes dart to mine. She slowly nods her head. She’s fucking lying. I can see it written on her face. “Don’t make me chase after you again, sweetheart.” I move my hand up to the nape of her neck and fist her hair. I pull slightly, which gets me a small whimper, and lean down to let my lips barely touch her ear. “Next time I won’t be nearly as nice.” I whisper my threat and let my hot breath send a shiver down her body. I let go of her and open the door with my back to her, giving her the chance to fucking defy me. Again.
The sound of her heavy, shaky exhale make my chest hurt. I feel like such a fucking asshole. But what the hell am I supposed to do? It’ll be better tomorrow. As long as she doesn’t remember what she witnessed earlier at the bistro, everything will be better. If she remembers though, I’m fucked. She can’t remember any of this shit. And that reminds me about the tablets in my pocket.
I unlock the door and walk in, holding the door open for her. She sways slightly on her feet and looks behind her. A low growl vibrates through my chest, making her head snap back around as she looks at me with wide eyes.
“Come on in, sweetheart.” I can’t help my narrowed eyes and threatening stare, but at least my voice isn’t completely menacing. She swallows loudly and slowly walks in. I can see she’s tired. She’s fighting this shit, even though it should’ve knocked her on her ass. That makes me worry even more. She walks in slowly and at an angle. She keeps her eyes on me but keeps her distance, staying more than an arm’s reach away.
I shut the door and lock it. The loud click of the lock makes her eyes dart to the doorknob. I practically see her heart beating out of her chest as her breathing picks up. I can tell she’s on the verge of a panic attack. If only she’d just sleep. Just go to bed and make this easy on both of us.
My heart twists with agony as I watch her eyes dart around the foyer like something’s going to come out of a dark corner and attack her. I need to help put her at ease. As much as I can, anyway.
“Are you hungry?” I’ve got this place stocked with food, no fresh stuff though. I’ll pick some up when I get Rigs. I clench my jaw. I’m gonna have to tie her up to do that. She’s not going to like it. But there’s no fucking way I’m risking anything at this point.
She’s quick to shake her head no.
“Did you eat before you went out tonight?” I ask calmly. She tilts her head to one side as though she’s thinking. “Do you remember?” I prompt.
“I’m not hungry.” Her voice is small, but even.
“That’s not what I asked.” I manage to keep most of the irritation out of my statement.
“Yes I remember, and no I didn’t eat,” she responds quickly.
I nod and take a step towards her, but she takes a step back. She’s cornering herself in, but she has nowhere to go anyway. She won’t be getting away from me now.
“I want you to eat something, and then I have to leave for a bit.” I watch as her eyes light up at the thoug
ht of being alone. It pisses me off. All of this pisses me off. If she hadn’t been so damn eager to leave earlier at the bistro, I could’ve had her cumming on my dick right now. Instead she’s scared of me, when I’m the one busting ass to keep her alive.
“Stop running from me,” I practically snarl. I take in a deep breath through my nose as my anger rises. I reach out and grab her waist before she can back away, pulling her small body to mine. Her hips press against mine. “Let’s get one thing straight, Elle.” I wrap my hand along her upper neck and use my thumb to push up her chin so that she's forced to look me in the eyes. “You fucking wanted me, before all this shit happened. You wanted me, and then you left me. You got yourself into this shit, and now I’m saving your ass.”
Her eyes widen as though she’s surprised. And I’m not sure which part triggered that response. I lower my lips closer to hers. “The least you can do is make this easy on me.”
Her light blue eyes stare into mine. She parts her lips and all I want to do is take them with my own. I want to make this easy. I want to make it right. But when she speaks, it ends that desire.
“I don’t trust you.” The softly whispered words hit my chest like fucking bullets.
It fucking hurts, but I can’t say that I’m too surprised. It takes a lot for me to trust a person, too. “Fair enough. Maybe you can make it easier on yourself then and stop pissing off your captor.” My stomach drops as I refer to myself that way. But that’s exactly who I am to her. Not her fucking savior, that's for damn sure. I’m the enemy.
“Does that sound like a smart thing to do, Elle?” I ask her as I tilt my head.
“No.” Her plump lips stay parted as she answers me, and her eyes fall to my throat. A sadness washes over her. Her eyes stay on the dip of my throat as she asks, “What are you going to do to me?” I can hear the obvious defeat in her tone. I suppose in a way that’s good, but it crushes me. I don’t want to kill the bit of spitfire she has.
Those Boys Are Trouble: Valetti Crime Family Box Set Page 21