by Krista Lakes
“You mean you'll get your precious Dante to stop me?” He laughs and the sound makes me shiver. “Go ahead and try it. I'll destroy him. I own the world he operates in. He can't save you. No one can.”
I set my jaw. I'm not going to let fear overcome me. He's bluffing. There's no way he's that powerful. Dante won't fail me.
A slow, sinister grin crosses Mr. Norwood's face. It's a thing of nightmares. “You are so like your mother, Cara. I should have come for you earlier.”
I close my eyes as he winds up his hand again. Stars aren't the right word for the tiny floating lights that fill my vision.
Be strong. You can survive this. You can survive anything, I tell myself. I cling to those words as he hits me again. And again. And again.
Be strong.
Chapter 21
I stumble out of the building and out into the cold. I hate the cold, but at least I'm free.
My clothing is torn beyond saving and I'm bleeding from my lip and at least one cut above my eye. I'm fairly sure the back of my head is bleeding, but I don't dare stop to try and find out. I have to get away from him. At least all he did was hit me.
“Cara?” Ethan calls, closing the car door behind him and hurrying across the snow. I must look like a disaster for him to have left the car. I certainly feel like a disaster. He catches me just as my legs give out. He's so warm, but all I can think about is how I'm getting blood on his suit.
He cradles me close and runs to the car. I didn't know he was that strong, but I feel safe now that I have Ethan here. Ethan won't let Mr. Norwood hurt me. He would have stopped Mr. Norwood if he had known.
“You need a doctor,” Ethan says quietly, his eyes going to the gash above my eye. Worry darkens his face as he tucks me into the car and pulls the remnants of my dress up around my shoulder. I think of telling him no. I hate doctors. But everything hurts and blood is trickling down my face. I don't want a scar. I nod weakly, pain spiking the motion.
Ethan's brows knit. His concern for me is only growing, and if anything that unsettles me more than the blood on my face. He runs to the driver's seat and peels out of the parking lot. The car surges with power as he pushes it as fast as he can.
I close my eyes. I'm tired straight through my bones. I haven't been this exhausted in a long, long time. I don't know how my mother put up with it for as long as she did.
Probably fear of something worse.
I feel like I've only blinked, but when I open my eyes, I see the bright lights of an urgent care. I'm glad he brought me here instead of a hospital. Ethan is opening the door, but I don't have the strength to stand. He picks me up and carries me inside like I'm a small child. I rest my head against his shoulder, content to be small for a moment.
The waiting room is empty and a nurse takes one look at me and runs for a doctor. I only notice that Ethan has set me down on a gurney because I'm suddenly cold without him holding me.
Ethan glances at the doctor running in our direction. “I need to call Tony. Are you okay by yourself?” His voice is thick with guilt. He thinks he has failed me even though Mr. Norwood set him up to fail.
“This isn't your fault, Ethan.” I mean it. I was the one who told him to stay in the car. I was the one who wanted to look important. If I'd just let him do his job, Ethan wouldn't have that guilty look plastered on his face.
“I'll be fine, Ethan,” I tell him as the doctor reaches us. “Look, the doctor's here. I'll be okay.” I try to smile, but the movement makes me wince with pain instead.
Ethan hesitates for a moment before moving to let the doctor poke and prod. The doctor closes the thin blue curtain behind him and looks me over. I answer his questions as best I can, telling him what hurts and what doesn't. I tell him that I was mugged.
Through a crack in the curtain I can see Ethan on the phone. His face is grim and determined. I can see him take a deep breath before picking it back up again.
“Did the man who brought you here do this to you?” the doctor asks. His face is worried and I know he saw Ethan slam the phone as well.
“Ethan?” I shake my head, ignoring the pain that it causes. “I told you I was mugged. Ethan would never have allowed this to happen if he had been there. He keeps me safe.”
The doctor nods, not fully believing me. To be honest, I'd have a hard time believing the beaten up girl with the violent man bringing her in too. “Would you like to file a report? I'd recommend it.”
I almost laugh. What would I report? That the esteemed political powerhouse John Norwood beat me? I'd be dead in two seconds. John Norwood is willing to kill. “No. No report.”
“If you change your mind, let me know.” The doctor looks unconvinced, but isn't going to argue with me. “We'll take you for x-rays once we get that cut stitched up. Regardless of what we find, I'm going to prescribe a mild pain killer and a sedative so you can get some sleep tonight. I'm also prescribing you an antibiotic. That cut on your cheek looks nasty, and I'd rather it not become infected. Check with the pharmacist to see if this will affect any other medication you're on.”
I nod, not really paying attention.
“Is there any possibility you could be pregnant?” the doctor asks.
I almost say no, but then I think back. My period should have started today. “I'm not sure,” I say instead.
“We'll do a pregnancy test before the x-rays,” he says. I watch him leave. I relish the quiet silence once he leaves. I want to be alone. If I close my eyes and hold perfectly still, I can almost pretend that nothing happened. That it was all just a bad dream. And that's all I want it to be.
“Vesper?”
John Norwood is here for me, I think as I startle awake. I claw at the thin sheet, desperate to pull it around me and hid until I realize that Mr. Norwood wouldn't call me Vesper. I take a deep breath to slow the pounding of my heart, but I'm surprised that I was able to sleep at all.
The light turns on and the curtain opens. It's Dante, not Norwood. I'm safe. He closes the curtain behind him.
Dante's eyes take in the bruises and bandages and anger curls the edges of his mouth. As his gaze goes to mine, he sees the fear still lingering in the corners of my eyes. Concern fills his eyes and anger flashes that someone would do this to me.
He's dangerous with that look.
Dante sits carefully on the edge of my bed, the anger gone from his eyes as quickly as it came. He leans forward and carefully kisses my hairline. It's the one place on my entire body that doesn't hurt and I'm glad he's the one that found it.
“What happened?” he asks. His voice is low and soothing.
“I thought I was meeting Senator Grayson,” I tell him. “I told Ethan to stay in the car. I didn't want to spook him. I wanted to prove that I could be a boss on my own.”
Shame heats my cheeks. It was such a stupid thing to do. I don't even really know why I did it. It just seemed right at the time.
“It wasn't Grayson.” I am an idiot. I should have suspected something. I should have fought back harder. I should have done a lot of things differently.
Dante growls. “I'll kill him.”
Cold fire burns in his blue eyes. Dante is my protector. He will make this right. He won't let this go unpunished. Dante will make sure I'm safe. I know this. The first tear of the night slides down my cheek, stinging the angry skin as it falls.
“I'd like that,” I whisper. I mean it. “It was John Norwood. The man I think killed my mother.”
“He's a dead man,” Dante assures me. I fold into his arms, feeling momentarily safe against his strong chest. I'm going to call Mr. Norwood's bluff. Dante is going to kill him and I'll finally be free.
What if it's not a bluff? The voice asks, but I ignore it.
“Let me take you home,” Dante says.
I nod, suddenly anxious to be home with my own things instead of trapped by wires and IVs. Dante opens the curtain and I see Ethan standing guard. Dante nods to him and Ethan goes to pick up my meager belongings from the plastic ch
air next to the gurney as Dante picks me up.
Together, my two protectors take me home.
Chapter 22
I wake in my own bed, and for a moment, I'm sure that the whole night was just a bad dream. Then I hear Dante yelling in the other room and I frown. The frown sends a streak of pain across my face and I sigh, knowing that it wasn't just a nightmare.
I sit up slowly. Luckily, all the x-rays came back negative. They seemed strangely concerned with having me cover my torso with the lead apron, but I had been to tired to care. A minor concussion, fourteen stitches on my face and twelve on the back of my head, and a full suite of bruises. The emotional trauma was just as bad. My pride is bruised as much as my body.
I see a voicemail on my phone.
“Ms. Savio. This is the doctor from last night. I need to speak with you when you get a chance. Please call me at this number.”
I frown a little. I hope they didn't find anything else wrong with my labs and tests after I left. I'd call them once I had some food.
I slither out of bed, trying to move as little as possible. I go to the living room to find Dante staring out the window, his fist balled up tight against the glass. He turns as he hears the bedroom door.
“Did I wake you?” He looks frustrated and runs a hand through his dark hair. “I'm sorry.”
“I just need some coffee.” I smile, moving my expression slowly to keep the pain away, and move closer to him. “You look like I feel. What's wrong?”
“Nothing you need to worry about.” Dante just shakes his head and then forces a smile. “Would you like me to order you some breakfast?”
“Just coffee right now,” I tell him. My stomach is clenched tight with stress. If Dante's worried, then I'm worried. I touch his arm, trying to get him to open up to me. “You can tell me. Otherwise, I'll just worry.”
His smile stays wooden, but he leans forward and kisses my forehead. “Just business. Three new lawsuits, a broken contract, and to top it all off-” he pauses and holds up his phone for effect, “a reporter from the Times is calling to ask me about some rather concerning allegations. The police have already called me twice, and it's not even noon yet.”
“That's terrible.” I bite my lip. I don't like the way this sounds. He shrugs and goes to the kitchen and pours me a cup of coffee.
“It's strange, really,” Dante muses, adding a little sugar to the black liquid for me.
“How bad is it?” I ask, following him to the warm kitchen counter.
“Bad.” He frowns and hands me the cup of coffee. “But I don't want you to worry.”
I kiss him on the cheek and then take a sip of my coffee. It's sweet and perfect. Just like him. “How about I worry just a little bit? So you don't have to quite as much.”
He grins and kisses my head again. “I want you to know, I'm taking care of your problem. It should be solved by the end of the week. I can make it sooner if you want. The price isn't a problem.”
For once, I question my Aunt's lack of desire to use hired killers. In this situation, it feels justified.
“Thank you.” I mean it. I set my coffee down and smile up at him. A weight I didn't know was there lifts from my shoulders. I'm going to be free. Free of the monster that has haunted my dreams for so long. Really free. My mother avenged. And it's all because of Dante.
I kiss him. It starts sweet, but my hormones start to take over. I need him, more than just emotionally. I need to show Dante how much he means to me. How grateful I am that he's saving me.
I don't mean for it to become sexual, but what he is doing for me means so much, and I don't know any other way to thank him. I know how to show gratitude with my body, not my words. I need to show him.
He kisses me back until he remembers I'm injured.
“Vesper,” he says, pulling away . His hands are tangled in my hair. “I don't want to hurt you.”
“Then be gentle,” I tell him, grazing my lips against his. “But I need you. I need to show you how much this means to me.”
I look up at him. He's so beautiful. Strong. Young. Safe. I'm safe with him.
He presses his lips against mine, his teeth nibbling on my lower lip as his tongue invades my mouth. He tastes sweet, like heaven.
His hands go to my hips. He makes sure that he doesn't hurt me. He kisses my lips, but then moves his mouth to my throat, down to my collar bone and then to the collar of my nightshirt. A low, happy noise of pleasure is the only sound I can make as he lifts my shirt and hooks his fingers around my panties and pulls. They slide off my legs easy and once I'm free of them, his hands are on my waist again.
With wonderful ease, he picks me up and sets me on the kitchen counter. The granite is cold on my bare butt, but everything else about me is heating up. The fires of lust are burning brightly deep in my belly. My body is craving more.
Dante puts his hands on my knees and spreads them wide. He goes to his knees, kissing up from my feet. He is so careful it makes me want to cry. From my feet, up my shins, up to my thighs, he avoids every bruise and scrape, concentrating on kissing only the skin that won't hurt at his touch. By the time he reaches the top of my legs, I'm panting with want.
His beautiful dark eyes flash up to mine once before he lowers his head and presses his tongue against my sweet spot. I whimper with pleasure, tangling my hands in his dark hair as he begins to work his magic. His tongue swirls and his lips suck and play with me in all the right ways.
My legs start to vibrate as I approach the precipice of my climax. All the stress of yesterday melts away under his careful ministrations. Mr. Norwood is going away and it's because of Dante. I'll be safe. No more fear.
I let myself go. Lights and colors fill my vision as my entire body clenches and rocks on ecstasy. This is what it feels like to be happy.
Slowly, once the colors fade, I open my eyes. Dante is staring up at me, watching me with those beautiful eyes of his. They are blue sapphires of adoration and care. His mouth curves upward slightly when our eyes connect. I can't help but smile back at him.
His hand grazes one of the large purple bruises on my thigh as he stands and I wince. I'm surprised that something so superficial can hurt so much, but the after-effects of my orgasm quickly diminish due to the sudden pain.
“Sorry,” Dante apologizes, moving his hand to a different spot. I can't help it. I squirm slightly at his touch, afraid that he will accidentally hurt me again. “I won't hurt you,” he says, putting his hand firmly on the counter where it won't do any harm.
I bite my lip and look up at him.
“Let me in, Vesper,” he coaxes, putting his hands on my knees and carefully avoiding the bruises. I let him push. I want to let him in. I want to have him with me. I relax and he steps into the space between my legs.
He kisses me again. I close my eyes and focus on the way his soft lips feel against mine. The gentle scratch of his stubble on my cheek and how his masculine, wonderful scent is taking me away. I love how good he smells.
Dante's hand slides down from his kiss, gentle and feather soft as he searches for my breast. He cups the swell of my breast though my nightshirt, teasing my nipple with his thumb. He's so gentle and his kisses are so warm.
My hands go to his belt and I fumble with the button on his pants as he continues his kissing. He's hard and long already. My fingers wrap around his shaft. It's like steel covered with satin. Suddenly, everything within me needs him. A need so strong that I can barely remember to breath because of it overcomes me. I need him in me. Now.
I wrap my legs around his waist, positioning his swelling girth and then guiding him into me. My legs tighten, drawing him further in. I love the small gasp he makes as he enters me. It's pure pleasure. I want more of him. I want all of him.
Dante pumps his hips in and out in a slow, lazy motion. There is no urgency, not yet, to his motions. This is all about my pleasure and showing me that he cares. This is slow and loving, not fast and hard. This is what I need. But I want more.
&
nbsp; I tighten my legs around him, pulling him deeper and arching my back to give him even more.
“Vesper...” he groans, his eyes rolling to the back of his head and his fingers tightening on the counter. “You have no idea what you do to me.”
But I do. Because he does the same thing to me.
I put my hands on either side of his face and peer into his eyes. There's so much emotion there, yet so much youth. He is everything I want and shouldn't have. I don't deserve a love like his. He has so much potential that I almost feel guilty about marrying him and keeping him for myself. Almost.
“Don't hold back,” I whisper, looking deeply into his dark eyes. “I want you. Please.”
I squeeze my legs tighter, showing him what I mean in addition to the words. His pace quickens. Every thrust fills me with pleasure. I've forgotten the bruises and the pain for a moment. I'm lost on the pleasure he's giving me.
I watch with heavy lids as his brow furrows in concentrations, his motions becoming stronger and more insistent, until his eyes go wide. I feel the hot splash of his seed as he finds his release. It's like a gun going off and filling me with warmth and light. I draw him into me, pulling of much of his essence and strength into me as I can. I need him. I wish I could have a part of him inside of me like this forever.
“You drive me insane, Vesper,” Dante gasps. His eyes hold nothing but innocent love for me.
“Right back at you, Bond.” I grin and kiss his forehead. I can't believe how good I feel right now with him. “Thank you.”
He waits until his breathing is back to normal before stepping back and leaving me aching for him again. I feel strangely full and empty at the same time.
I grab the roll of paper towels from beside me and hand him several before getting some for myself. I slide off the counter, wincing as I catch a sore spot on my way down. We clean up, stealing smiles and glances.
It takes me a minute to find my panties, but I put them back on. I'm suddenly very tired. I need a pain pill and some more sleep. Or caffeine.