She runs a hand through her hair, looks anywhere but at me.
“But you don’t want to, do you?” I ask. “For some reason, you want me to be here,” I say. “You liked that it was me when you opened the door.”
“No.”
“Huh.” I scrape my lower lip with my teeth. Her gaze falls to my mouth momentarily. “So instead of asking me to leave, you want to know about Lucia DeMarco? You sure about that?”
She gives me one short nod.
“Okay.” I step away, take off my coat and drape it over the back of a chair before sitting down. “Make me that cup of coffee.”
She sighs. The table’s too big for this space and she has to maneuver around it. I watch her fill the stove-top espresso machine with water and scoop out two heaping spoons of coffee. She stands with her back to me while the coffee brews. I wonder if she feels awkward but I don’t mind the quiet. I like being here in this house. I like being with her.
When the coffee steams, she switches off the burner, pours two tiny cups of espresso out and sets one in front of me. She then pulls out a chair and sits.
“Thank you,” I say, taking a sip. It’s good. “Lucia DeMarco is my father’s personal vendetta. For the record, I don’t like what he’s doing with her, but in order to punish the DeMarco family for their betrayal, he demanded something precious. The most precious things DeMarco has are his daughters, so…” I pause. “He took one.”
“He just took one?”
I nod.
“People aren’t things.”
I shrug a shoulder.
“He took her for you?” she asks and I know this is what’s got her wound up and I like it.
“Does that bother you?”
“What? No.”
“You sure?” She opens her mouth, but I continue. “On her twenty-first birthday, she’ll belong to my family.”
“That’s not legal. It can’t be.”
I give her a minute to think about that statement.
“But—”
“Shut up, Natalie. Just listen.” Amazingly, she shuts up. “You want me to tell you Lucia DeMarco has nothing to do with me?”
She watches me, answers my question with her own. “What must she be going through? What’s this like for her?”
“That isn’t a question I can answer or even care to consider. There are consequences to actions. A price to be paid. That’s all. And you shouldn’t romanticize it.”
“I’m not romanticizing it but she is locked away in a tower, isn’t she?”
“She’s at an excellent girl’s school getting an excellent education. And I think that’s enough on the DeMarco topic.”
She stands abruptly, takes her cup to the sink. “What happened to your hand?” she asks with her back to me.
I look at it, notice the bruise forming there. “Nothing.”
“Business?”
I have to admit, she’s observant. When I’d had to leave so abruptly last time it was because of news about that idiot Joe Vitelli. Roman had thought I’d been too lenient. I’ve always known my uncle has a taste for blood. But this time, he’d been right. My talk with the brothers didn’t quite set the younger one straight. Because Joe had a meeting I’m pretty sure his brother wasn’t aware of with a family who is a very clear enemy of ours.
After my visit with the younger Vitelli brother this morning, though, he’s not going to be talking to anyone for a while. In fact, he’ll be lucky if he ever talks again.
The chair scrapes the floor when I push back. I’m behind her before she can turn. I reach around her, set my cup in the sink, and I look at her, turn her to face me. She grips the counter behind her.
“You asked me why I was here earlier. Well, I’m here because I want to see you.”
Her eyes go wide, nervously searching mine.
“There’s something about you that keeps drawing me back, so here I am. And I think you feel the same.”
“I—”
“Now about the hand, do you want me to lie to you?” I ask.
She shakes her head.
“You know who I am. Who my family is.”
“I need to remember it.”
When she won’t look at me, I make her. “I’m just a man, Natalie.” She’s silent. “Flesh and bone.” I snake one hand up along her spine to cup the back of her head, curl my fingers into her hair and tug her head backward. “And you make me want.”
Her throat works when she licks her lips. Swallows. “Wrong place, wrong time.”
“What?”
“There was a convenience store robbery in my neighborhood six years ago. I was fourteen. You said that after you shot the man who would have raped me.”
I study her. Search her eyes. And slowly, it comes together.
I don’t remember much about that day. Literally, I’d stumbled on the robbery. I’d needed to take a piss after a rough night of partying. Hell, I may have still been drunk. The two perps were stoned. Idiots. But when I saw the asshole trying to get the kid’s jeans off, I lost it. Told her to shut her eyes and shot the fucker so he’d never be fucking anyone ever again.
I walked away before the cops came. Took that piss and left.
“You have a bad habit, then, of being in the wrong place at the wrong time.” I lean down, touch my lips to hers. They’re soft. And she doesn’t push me away. I don’t close my eyes when I kiss her. Take her lip between mine and taste her.
“You taste good. I knew you would.”
She doesn’t know what to say. I bring my mouth to her ear and inhale, touching the scruff of my jaw to her smooth cheek as I take in her scent. Smell her want. And when I lean my face down and push her sweater aside to kiss the delicate curve of her neck, she gasps, sets her hands flat to my chest, but again, she doesn’t push me away.
I draw back. My dick is hard. She sees it pressing against my pants and swallows when she returns her dark eyes to mine, blacker now with her pupils dilated. Before she can say anything, I pull her sweater over her head and lift her up to set her on the counter. With my hands on her thighs, I push her legs wide and stand between them.
“I liked looking at you that night,” I say. She’s almost at eye level now. Just has to tilt her head up a little.
“What?” her voice wavers when she asks it.
“I liked it. Liked you naked. I liked opening you. Seeing you. All of you. And after I brought you home, I looked at your pictures. Memorized them.”
I draw her closer, so her legs are dangling off the counter and she can feel me between them. Her bra is lace and not padded so I can see her pebbled nipples. I bring my mouth to one small mound, rub the scruff of my jaw against it, suck the nipple, liking the rough of the lace against the softness of her skin.
Her hands are on my shoulders. “I—”
She swallows whatever she was about to say when I pull back, touch my fingers to her chest, over her breasts, her nipples. Slowly, I lift her breasts out of the cups, tuck the lace beneath each and look at her. Meet her eyes again as I lift her off the counter and she stands before me. I slide one hand down over her belly, undo the buttons of her jeans, the zipper. I slip my hand inside, into her panties, and I cup her sex and when I do, she closes her eyes and sucks in a breath and she’s wet and I smell her and I want her.
“Stop.” It’s a whisper.
I slide a finger inside her, feel her warmth. I watch her when I do. Her mouth is open, her eyes locked on mine. Desire burns inside them. The musky scent of it hangs heavy in the room between us.
“You’re wet,” I say, rubbing the hard nub of her clit between thumb and forefinger.
She closes her eyes, bites her lip. Presses her hands against me. “No.”
I take that hard, little button and tease it and she’s leaning the top of her head into my chest, one hand fisted there, the other pushing against me. Her breathing is coming in gasps and I think she’ll come soon and I want to see her come. It’s what I want most in the world right now.
Sh
e looks up at me. I grip her pussy, tug her toward me. I rub her clit again, watch her eyes when I do.
But then she moves her hands underneath my jacket and she’s feeling my chest, and I know the instant she touches the cold steel of my gun because she freezes.
Fuck.
I watch her. She blinks and that desire is turning into something else.
I clear my throat. “You should tell me to go,” I tell her again, my voice hoarse. It’s the right thing to do. I know it. She knows it.
I slide my hand out of her panties, my fingers wet with her.
She takes hold of either side of my jacket and pushes it back just off my shoulders and looks at the holstered gun, but she doesn’t speak. Instead, she touches it. I watch her tentative fingers, delicate and fragile. But when she closes her hand over the handle, I take hold of her wrist and pull her hand off and push her away, turn my back to her as I lean against the counter, holding her at arm’s length, needing a moment. Needing many moments. I adjust the crotch of my pants and when I finally look at her again she’s watching me.
This time it’s me who doesn’t speak. Instead, I release her wrist. I adjust the cups of her bra and take one more look at her before I turn, pick up my coat. I don’t bother to put it on before I open the door, even though it’s icy out, and I walk out of the house without a goodbye.
8
Natalie
I lay awake for a long time after he left and kept waking up throughout the night, remembering. It’s the first thing I think of this morning.
He didn’t say goodbye. And I didn’t get a chance to say a word before he was gone. The door closed behind him and he vanished. Disappeared into the night like a ghost. Like he wasn’t here at all.
And it’s the strangest thing. The most unsettling feeling—something I can’t put my finger on—but it’s almost a premonition. Sergio here, then gone.
Just like that.
Like a ghost.
Pepper’s barking alerts me that there’s someone at the door. The doorbell’s been broken forever. I get up, pull a hoodie on, and glance out the window. I know it’s not Sergio. Pepper wouldn’t have barked at him.
Three men are standing outside, two in black jackets with a logo I can’t read at the back, and one in a long dark coat. The guy in the coat looks up, catches my eye in the window. He opens his arms as if to say ‘hey, answer the door’.
I go downstairs, keep a hand on Pepper’s collar when I open the door. I don’t know these men.
“Good morning,” the one in the coat says. He introduces himself. I only catch his first name. “Sergio sent me.”
I’m confused. “What? Why? It’s seven in the morning.” I have class in an hour but still. I read the logo on the uniform of one of the men behind him. He’s a locksmith.
“He said you need new locks. We’ll get it done as fast as possible and be out of your way. Gentlemen.” He puts his hand on the door to push it open, gesturing for the two men to enter.
“Hold on. You can’t just barge in here and—”
“Miss, if you don’t mind my saying so, these locks wouldn’t keep a third-rate bum out.”
My mouth falls open and he digs his phone out of his pocket, says a few words then holds it out to me.
“Here.”
“What?”
“For you.”
I am so confused. I take the phone.
“Good morning,” Sergio says before I can say a word. I can almost hear the grin on his face.
“Are you responsible for this?”
“Yes. I realize it’s early—”
“You can’t just send someone to my house to change my locks. I don’t even know you. It’s not even my house. What’s next, the windows?”
“Maybe. If you need it.”
“No. I’m joking!”
“The owners will appreciate the better locks, Natalie. I guarantee that. I can break into your house with one hand tied behind my back.”
“No one’s trying to break into my house.”
He doesn’t speak for a minute and I think back to the man last night, the one who almost plowed me down on his way out of the street.
No one has tried. Yet.
“I just want to keep you safe. Young woman living alone and all. Want to make sure you’re protected.”
Woman. So he heard what I said.
“Nat?”
“I don’t like people calling me that,” I say.
“Natalie?” he amends. “Just do this for me and I’ll get rid of the pictures I took.”
“You will?”
“Yes.”
“How will I know you did it?”
“You’ll have to trust me.”
“I’m confused.”
“About trusting me?”
“About everything.”
“We can talk about it later if you want, when I take you to get photos of the warehouse.”
“I don’t need those anymore.”
“Why not? I thought they were for school.”
“They are. Were.” I shake my head. “I’m not taking the internship. The professor’s weird anyway. He has a bunch of us volunteering at his firm and he’ll choose one for the summer spot.”
“What do you mean, weird?”
“Doesn’t matter.”
He’s quiet but I know he wants to push. “Sergio?” I ask. I have a more pressing question.
“Yes?”
“Am I in danger?”
“What? No. No, nothing like that. Those are just shitty locks. Let me do this one thing for you.”
“They’re old, that’s all.”
“Right. We’ll update them. A gift to the owners.”
“Okay. But next time you talk to me first.”
“I did. I told you they were shitty.”
“I didn’t think that meant you were going to replace them.” I look at the clock. “Shit. I’m going to be late for classes.”
“Eric will take care of everything. Go to school.”
“Um, okay, thanks, I guess.”
“Tell me about this professor.”
“No. It’s nothing.” I’m worried suddenly. Sergio’s not taking baby steps into my life. He’s charging in and I have a feeling he’ll shove anything he needs to shove out of his way without a second thought. “I have to go,” I say.
9
Sergio
It took all I had to walk away last night.
What I wanted, what I would have done with any other woman, was strip her bare, bend her over the kitchen counter, and fuck her raw. Take her to bed. Fuck her again. Then again.
And then I would walk away. Out the door never to return. Never to give a second thought.
With her though, it’s different. With her, everything is different.
Wrong place. Wrong time.
Twice she’s been put in my path.
I finish my coffee. Head out to the car. Sending Eric to take care of the locks means I won’t have a bodyguard this morning. My father will have words with me when he finds out, which he always does. I need a bodyguard. We have enemies. All things I know.
Which brings me to Natalie.
If I’m not careful, she will become a target. And I feel very protective of her.
Those locks needed to be changed. They wouldn’t keep anyone out and that dog’s too old to protect her.
This professor she mentioned, I don’t like the sound of him.
My phone rings when I get in the car. I check the display. It’s my father.
“It’s early for you, isn’t it?”
“Heard the Vitelli boy is in the hospital.”
“That’s right.” I glance at the bruise on my knuckle. I don’t mind doing the physical work myself. Never want to be one of those men who’s afraid to get his hands dirty.
“He’ll be lucky if he can talk again,” he says.
“My initial meeting didn’t make the impression I hoped.”
“Roman thinks it’ll push old man Vitelli.”
“Roman needs to learn his place.”
“He was right before.”
“I’m meeting with Vitelli Sr. today. He’ll show gratitude for my restraint. My plan is not to incite another uprising like the DeMarco one. It’s to garner respect and, perhaps more importantly, obedience.”
“Power corrupts,” he says.
“Absolute power corrupts absolutely,” I say. “Where do we, the Benedetti family, fall in that? Or do we have no reckoning?”
There’s a pause. “Just make sure you take Eric and at least two more soldiers with you. Roman too.”
“I’ll take the security, but my uncle can stay home this time.”
My father would normally have handled this himself, but I’ve taken over some of the things he would do because with mom’s illness, he’s been preoccupied. As much as I trust Roman’s loyalty to him and to our family, there are moments where he’s ambitious, too much so. He’s not a Benedetti. He’s my mother’s brother. He may be consigliere, but I am my father’s son and successor.
“Sergio—”
“Is mom’s appointment at Dr. Shelby’s office?” I ask, even though I know. Instantly, I feel the shift in mood. Today’s an important day. We find out if my mom’s chemo worked. I know dad’s scared shitless. It’s actually the only time I’ve ever known my father to be scared.
“Yeah. At the hospital.”
“All right. I’ll see you then.”
“One more thing before you go. I want Eric with you 24/7. It’s why I pay him. You want to go fuck some girl, go fuck her, but he stays. I don’t care where or how, but he stays, understand?”
The way he says ‘some girl’ grates on my nerves. “Relax, dad.” I hear a door close on my father’s side.
“Relax, he tells me,” Dad says, but he’s not talking to me. “Your uncle just walked in. Twenty-four fucking seven, Sergio. I’m not budging on that.”
Sergio: a Dark Mafia Romance Page 5