by Hamel, B. B.
She gave me a look then hurried away. I leaned back with a smile and waited a few minutes for her to strip her clothes off. But the minutes ticked by and there was no movement upstairs. I was tempted to get up and check on her, but I had to extend a little bit of trust, or else we’d never get anywhere.
“You ready?” I called out after a little longer, impatience getting the best of me.
“Yes,” she said. “I… I think so.”
“Come on down,” I said.
I heard sounds at the top of the steps then slowly she walked down. She came around the corner and stopped, arms crossed over her chest, biting her lip.
“What do you think?” she asked.
I stared at her and leaned forward. “Drop your arms,” I said.
She hesitated then obeyed.
The front was black lace and completely sheer. It was like a slip of nothing with several flower motifs scattered around her body. The neckline was low, showing off her breasts, and the straps were thin with more lace all around them. There was a nearly skin-colored slip beneath the black lace, and she looked like she was nude, wearing nothing but a layer of see-through fabric.
I took a deep breath. “Wow,” I said.
“Really?”
“Yeah.” I nodded slowly. “You look incredible.”
And she really did. Her red hair and green eyes popped from the dark black lace, and the slip underneath matched her pale skin perfectly. Her breasts were firm and pressed together just right, just enough to drive me wild. I wanted to get up and rip the clothes from her body, but I knew I had to hold back.
“Thanks,” she said. “I’ve never worn something like this in my life.”
“Try something else now.”
“Really?” she asked. “I bet you have other stuff you need to do.”
“Do you want to try on more clothes for me, Colleen?”
She stared at me, her pink, round lips parted. “Yes,” she said. “I do.”
“Good.” I leaned back. “I want you to play dress up.”
She bit her lip and looked away, her cheeks turning pink. But she walked over to a pile of tops and bottoms, rifled through them, picked out an outfit, and ran off to change.
What followed was a whirlwind of clothes. For several hours, she tried on outfit after outfit, and I sat through it all with a patient smile on my face. She came down in short jean shorts that showed just a hint of her ass, in tight white tops that showed off her breasts, in sweatshirts and jeans and slacks. She had on a business outfit, a blazer, and a pair of matching pants, but nothing else underneath it. She wore athletic clothes, tight yoga pants and sports bras that pressed her breasts up together in a way that made my heart go wild.
And I sat there through it all.
Lesser men might have gotten up and torn her clothes off. But I’m patient, and I could tell she was starting to get into it. So I let her get changed, let her strip off her clothes and put on new outfits, going up and down the steps the whole time.
I let her parade her tight, gorgeous body around in front of me. And when she was finally done, she collapsed on the couch in a pair of yoga pants and a gray tank top. She smiled at me and stretched out, touching all the clothes she’d decided to keep, which was pretty much everything in her size.
“Thanks for indulging me,” she said. “I don’t know the last time I tried on that much stuff.”
“I’m glad you enjoyed it,” I said, standing up. I stretched and watched her before picking out something from the table. I felt the lacy fabric beneath my fingers and let a smile spread across my face.
I’d really have to thank Theresa.
“Try this on,” I said, holding it out.
She frowned at me for a long moment as her eyes moved down to the lacy bodysuit I held in my hand. It looked a lot like the first dress she put on, except it was skimpy lingerie. The neckline was plunging, there was no skirt, and there was no slip underneath.
Just a skin tight, see-through lace bodysuit.
“I don’t know,” she said.
“Go ahead,” I said. “I want to see you wearing nothing but this.”
She bit her lip. “Steven, come on.”
“Put it on, Colleen,” I said. “I’ve been patient. And now I want my reward.”
She stared at me, mouth hanging open for a long moment, but slowly she stood up and walked over. She took the lingerie from my hand and I half expected her to throw it on the floor.
Instead, she walked to the steps and climbed up. I watched her go, my heart racing with excitement.
But as I went to sit back down in my chair, the phone began to ring. I cursed and took it from my pocket. I was about to turn it off, but it was Luca’s number, and I knew I couldn’t ignore my Lieutenant, not when we were on the verge of a real war.
So I answered it. “Yeah?” I said.
“Steven.” Luca sounded harried, a little out of breath. “Something went down.”
I stood up, at full attention. “What’s going on?”
“We got a message from the Club,” Luca said. “One of their soldiers dropped it off at your deli twenty minutes ago.”
“Why didn’t you call me right away?”
“We needed to find a DVD player first.”
I was silent for a long moment. “Why would you need a DVD player?”
“Because it’s this movie,” he said. “Shit, Steven. You should see it.”
“Tell me what it is.”
“It’s this… this guy named Finn,” he said and a shiver ran down my spine. “Finn Colley. He’s tied to this chair and it looks like he got beat up real bad. Blood all over his face, right? Then the camera jumps to Mathis Colley, you know, the fucking Club guy. And he says that if we don’t pay him tribute, he’ll start cutting pieces of this Finn Colley and sending them to you.” Luca is quiet for a long moment. “You still want a video?
“No,” I said. “I’ll see it later.”
“What should we do?”
“Nothing for now,” I said. “Don’t move. Don’t do anything. I’ll call you back.”
I hung up and stood there, staring at the floor.
“Fuck,” I whispered.
I heard footsteps on the stairs. I looked up as Colleen came around the corner and stared at me, standing with her hands behind her back.
“Fuck,” I said again.
She looked incredible. Her breasts were pressed together and I could see her pink, hard nipples through the lace. Her hair was down around her shoulders and she was giving me this look that made my heart race. I took a step toward her, my body yearning to touch her, but I stopped myself.
She tilted her head. “What’s wrong?” she asked.
I clenched my jaw. “Fuck,” I said.
“What’s wrong?” she asked again and crossed her arms in front of her chest. “You’re freaking me out.”
“Here,” I said, grabbing a sweatshirt from the table. It was a size too big but I threw it to her anyway. “Put that on and sit down.”
“Oh my god,” she said, catching the sweatshirt. “You fucking asshole. You don’t like this?”
“No,” I said. “Shit, no, that’s not it. My Lieutenant just called.”
She hesitated then pulled on the sweatshirt. “Did something happen?” she asked.
“Sit down,” I said.
“Just tell me,” she said. “I just put on all those clothes for you, then that lingerie, and you tell me to cover up, and—”
“It’s about your dad,” I said. “Sit down, damn it.”
She stared at me, her eyes wide. She took a few steps to the couch and slowly sank down.
I paced around in front of her for a second. “Fuck,” I said. “All right, listen. Your uncle has your father.”
“My uncle has my father?” she asked. “What the hell does that mean?”
“It means he knows I have you and he took your father for revenge. I don’t know why, or what the fuck he’s thinking. But he… beat him up a little
.”
“Uncle Mathis beat up Dad?” she asked like she could barely understand the words I was saying.
I stopped pacing and faced her. “Look, I don’t know what Mathis is up to, but he has your father and he’s threatening to hurt him.”
I debated not telling her. It would be easier for me if I kept it from her. If I could just lie to her, tell her everything was okay, things would go smooth. I mean, fuck, she looked incredible in that little lingerie, and I know she wanted me to come over and peel it off her, even if she hated herself a little bit for it.
But I can’t lie to her. I won’t lie to her, not if I can avoid it.
“We have to do something,” she said. “We have to… we have to help my dad.”
“We will,” I said. “I promise. I fucking swear we will.”
“They’re going to kill him,” she said, her voice tight with tears. Her eyes went wide and she leaned forward. “They’re going to kill him, Steven. All because you brought me here.”
‘No,” I said. “They won’t. He’s still family. They wouldn’t.”
She stood up, rage coming over her again. “You asshole,” she said, grabbing a dress at random and throwing it at me. I batted it down to the ground.
‘Stop,” I said.
She threw more clothes. Jeans, skirts, button down shirts, zip up hoodies, bra and panties. She threw it at me and screamed until I slapped aside a pair of panties aimed at my face and grabbed her wrists.
“Let me go,” she said.
I wrestled her down to the couch. She struggled against me, eyes hard and angry, but I pinned her down, wrists above her head, her supple body under mine.
“Stop,” I said. “You have to calm down. We can’t do shit if you’re going to lose it like this.”
“They have my dad,” she said. “Don’t you get it? He’s all I have left.”
I stared at her for a long moment and let out a breath. I released her wrists and stood. She stayed on the couch, staring at the ceiling.
“I get it,” I said. “And I swear we’ll help him. But right now, you can’t freak out, okay? I can’t worry about you and help your dad at the same time.”
“I’m so fucked,” she whispered.
“You’re not,” I said.
“I’m fucked.” She stood up. “And my dad’s fucked. The Club took my mother away, and now they’re going to take him, too.” She stormed past me, up the steps, and disappeared into her room. I heard the door slam behind her.
I stood there for a second and let out a sigh.
“Fuck,” I said, and stared up at the ceiling.
8
Colleen
I curled up into a tight ball and stared at the ground while thoughts of my father getting murdered by my uncle swirled through my mind.
I couldn’t understand how this was happening. Uncle Mathis let Dad leave the Club when I was just a kid, back when my mother died. I was ten years old, and I could still remember it over a decade later. I could see my father, angry and red-faced, his eyes puffy from crying, drunk as hell and leaning on the bannister as he shouted at my uncle, as he blamed my uncle for her death. I’d never forget how my uncle got down on his knees, took my father’s hand, and begged forgiveness.
I didn’t understand what it all meant back then, and I still barely understood it. But it made no sense that my uncle would take my father and threaten to hurt him.
My uncle begged for my father’s forgiveness. He allowed my father to leave the Club, allowed us to stay in the neighborhood. Though my father never forgave Uncle Mathis and we haven’t had anything to do with them in a long time, things were still quiet. There was no reason for Uncle Mathis to hate my dad or want to hurt him.
I don’t know how long I stayed in bed in that oversized sweatshirt and the silly lingerie. I felt like an idiot, like I’d lost my mind. I don’t know what came over me, but I was having so much fun trying on clothes, and when he asked me to put on the lingerie, I thought it might… I thought it might be fun.
I wanted him to look at my body. He’d looked at me already, and I knew he liked what he saw. I knew he wanted me.
And god, it’s insane, it’s sick, but I wanted him, too.
So I put on the lingerie. And of course now he’s bringing even more darkness into my life.
Eventually I stirred and got in the shower. I left the sweatshirt and the lingerie on the tile floor as I stood under the water and let it roll down my skin. I refused to let myself cry, wouldn’t give Steven the satisfaction. When I got out, I found the door was open a crack and there were clothes piled on the bed, everything I’d chosen downstairs.
I stared at it all and for a brief moment, I wanted to light it all on fire.
But instead, I put on a sports bra, a pair of panties, a gray tank top, and a pair of yoga pants. I took a deep breath and stepped out into the hall.
I checked downstairs first, but he wasn’t there. I looked in the kitchen, yelled into the basement, and even looked in the extra rooms upstairs. Finally, I climbed the steps up to the roof deck, and found him leaning forward on the railing, looking out at the city. There was a large tree to our right that cast a long shadow over the deck, and it felt like we were all alone up there above all the other houses.
“Hey,” I said.
He looked back at me. “You okay?”
I shrugged. “Not really.”
He gestured for me to join him. I hesitated, then walked over and leaned against the metal railing. It was cool against my skin and a nice, light breeze blew back my hair, still wet from the shower.
We were quiet for a while. I didn’t speak and he just glanced at me, but didn’t push anything.
Finally though, he broke the silence.
“What happened to your mom?” he asked.
I stared down at the street below. Cars were parked in even lines, and a dad with his little girl walked down the shady street, crossing to the opposite sidewalk.
“She got hit by a stray bullet when I was ten,” I said. “Drive by shooting. They were aiming for my dad. They were out sitting on their front porch and I guess they didn’t care if mom died in the gunfire too.”
“Shit,” he said. “I’m sorry.”
“Yeah,” I said. “That’s why he left the Club. He hated himself for it and hated Uncle Mathis. We were alone after that and things got bad for a while.”
“I know what you mean,” he said.
I snorted. “I doubt it.”
“My mom died when I was eight. My dad died of an overdose two years later.”
I sucked in a deep breath and frowned at him. “Is that true?”
He nodded. “My dad was always an addict. But he got his shit together when he married my mom. But she got cancer and died, and I guess he just… slipped back into old habits. Killed him pretty fast.”
“I’m sorry.”
He shrugged. “My grandmother raised me. She was good but she was older you know? She was tired. Couldn’t watch me all the time. So I got in a lot of trouble, met Dante, tore the streets up. The rest, well, you know how it goes. Here I am now, standing on this roof with you.”
“I’m sorry you lost your parents,” I said. “But it doesn’t help bring back my father.”
“I’m going to fix that,” he said, looking at me with a surprising anger. He moved closer to me, and I took a step back. I ran into the railing and he loomed above me, staring down into my eyes. “I won’t let them hurt your dad. I won’t let them take away another one of your parents.”
I grabbed onto the railing behind me, digging my fingers into the metal, staring into his deep blue eyes.
“I wouldn’t be in this situation if it weren’t for you,” I said.
“Yeah, you’re right,” he said. “But it was chance that you were in that bodega. It was chance that my boys shot you. And it was bad fucking luck that your uncle reacted this way.”
I shook my head and felt a little pain in my shoulder. It’d been not much more than a dull throb
lately, and I could almost forget about it.
But it was hard to forget the rest, being locked in that room, being taken by this monster.
He reached up and touched my cheek. I sucked in a little breath, and his fingers were rough. It surprised me, he always seemed so careful and thoughtful with the way he moved, but his hands felt like he worked hard with them,
“I’m sorry you ended up here,” he said, his voice low and soft. “But I keep saying I’ll take care of you, and I mean it, little Colleen.”
“Why are you being nice to me?” I asked. “You could just keep me locked in the basement.”
“That’s not what I want.” His eyes looked pained as he tilted his head. “I want to make all this right. You hear me, Colleen? What happened to you was fucked up, and I’m only making it worse. But I want to make it all right.”
“I don’t think you can,” I said.
He leaned closer, his lips close to mine, as they brushed across my cheek.
“I can do a lot of things,” he whispered in my ear. “I think you’d be surprised.”
I let out a little gasp as his right hand slid behind my back and pulled me against his body. I blinked staring into his eyes, heart racing. I should push him away, scream for help, run and hide.
Instead, I let him kiss me.
His lips felt like heaven and his tongue tasted like metal and sweet tea. I tightened my grip on the railing as his hand pushed me closer against his hard body. I let his tongue roam mine, bit his lower lip, maybe a little too hard, but not hard enough to make him stop. His other hand slipped into my wet hair and pulled, making me gasp as his lips found my neck.
“I thought you’d fight,” he whispered as he gripped my hair and kissed my throat. “I thought you’d kick and scream.”
“Would you have stopped?” I asked.
“I already told you, Colleen. I don’t take what isn’t mine by rights.” He reached up with his other hand and gripped my face, looking into my eyes. “Tell me you want me to stop, and I will.”
I stared at him, heart hammering, fingers gripping the railing so hard I thought the blood would stop pumping to their tips. I was tempted to say it, to tell him to let me go and fuck off. I wanted to tell him to go to hell for what he’s doing to me and for what he’s putting me through, but I can’t seem to find the words.