High Stakes (A Dark Romance)

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High Stakes (A Dark Romance) Page 13

by Vanessa Waltz


  “Vince!”

  I stand up with him, noticing how he carries himself differently. There are lines under his eyes and his lip is bleeding, but his chest is puffed out. He looks proud of himself.

  “Can’t believe you waited for me all night like this on the floor.”

  “Of course, I waited!” I rub the sleepiness from my eyes. “Vince, what happened?” I take his hand but he winces.

  “I’m a little sore.”

  “Oh, Jesus.”

  He lets me drag him into the bathroom, where I flip on the lights and we wince horribly from the sudden flare. Then I gasp when I see all his injuries thrown in sharp relief.

  There are little cuts all over his face, swelling on the side of his head. His white shirt is bloody and torn.

  “Did he throw you in a blender or something?”

  He laughs at the joke. “I believe it’s times like this when they usually say, ‘you should see the other guy.’ Well, you should see the other guy. Believe me, he’s not going to be doing anything much for a while.”

  My eyes squeeze shut when I see the gloating smile on his face. “You killed him, didn’t you?”

  “Adriana, relax.”

  Opening my eyes, I still see the monster covered in blood, grinning at me. He reaches out for me and I recoil.

  That sobers his expression.

  “I did not kill him, Ade.”

  “You must have beaten him really badly.”

  “So what?”

  “So, you don’t just beat someone because you have a problem with them.”

  “Since when?”

  Fear strikes a chord in my heart. I swallow hard. Of course, I should have expected this. I shouldn’t act so surprised. He told me, didn’t he? He warned me. I’m not a good man.

  “You’re involving me in things I want nothing to do with!”

  He turns from the mirror to face me. For the first time, I see a hint of remorse on his face. “I’m sorry for bringing you into this, but I won’t apologize for what I did.”

  A frustrated sigh leaves my lips. “I’m not into this alpha male posturing bullshit. I just want someone who makes me feel safe.”

  “I’ve told you my reasons. I’ll deal with the consequences.”

  Consequences?

  “Look, this is my life. Either deal with it, or get out. I won’t change.”

  A flush of adrenaline tingles through my body. I know I should. I know that I can’t change him. He touches my throat and the shock travels down my spine. I can’t give this up.

  “I’m giving you this one last chance to walk away. Maybe you should take it, but I hope you don’t.”

  “I don’t want to.”

  His thumb presses into my neck, into the jumping vein. My head swims suddenly.

  “Adriana, I mean it,” he says in a warning voice. “I won’t be able to let you go.”

  But that’s all I wanted. I wanted to be consumed, to be owned and taken care of. No one ever took care of me, but I know that Vincent will always look after me as long as we’re together. It’s all or nothing.

  And I’m all in.

  Our hands cling to each other’s faces as we move in at the same time, kissing and tearing at each other’s clothes. Vince’s powerful hands rip my dress over my head and suddenly he slams me against the wall, his hand around my throat. My hands try to pry him off, but he seems to enjoy that even more.

  Fine. He wants a fight?

  I’ll give him a fight.

  My hand whirls out of nowhere, slapping his face hard. In shock, his face stays reeled back until he slowly turns towards me with murder in his eyes.

  It sends a jolt through my veins. He wouldn’t really hurt me, would he?

  Twisting me around, he pins both my arms behind my back and forces me forward, out of the bathroom and into his den of iniquity. I’m shoved forward, sprawling on the bed. I twist around, fear making my heart race.

  Is this real?

  Vince climbs over me. There’s no kindness in his face, no glimmer in his eyes, no playful smirk. He’s morphed into a different man in the darkness, the man who punishes anyone who displeases him, who hurts, even kills those who insult him.

  And now I’m one of them.

  He wrenches his belt and slacks down while holding down my arms. I struggle within his grasp, of course, but he’s so strong that only one arm is more than enough to keep me pinned. I’m helpless. Vince forces me on my side as he spoons me, his hardness jutting into my back. His body moves over my back. His arms wrap around me like a straightjacket and his hand covers my mouth, muffling my cry when he pries open my legs and thrusts. It feels so good that wetness slicks my walls, making his passage easier.

  Fucking hell.

  He slams into me as he grunts in my ear, his breath hot all over my neck. Reaching down, he touches my clit, the moisture all over his hand. He uncovers my mouth and I moan, and then he inserts his wet fingers inside my mouth.

  It’s dirty. It’s wrong. I suck his fingers clean and he withdraws them only to clamp tightly over my face, nearly suffocating me. Then one finger slips inside, and I latch onto it, biting hard when he enters me again.

  His deep groans fill me with excitement. His mouth is on my neck, sucking, biting, whispering filthy things in my ear. My lungs burn as his hand covers my nostrils. It fucking scares me how far I’m willing to let him go. I’m so close to erupting, so close to losing it.

  He buries inside me so hard that the last breath is knocked from my lungs. I bite down hard in my attempt to get air as an orgasm rocks through my body, clenching around him as he fills me with his essence for the first time. The hand slides from my face, and I gasp for air. His chest heaves against my back and I roll over so that I’m laying over his body. His hand splays on my back as I tilt my head up. His lips seal against mine and warmth blossoms in my chest, leaving me trembling when he pulls back, his head sinking into his pillow.

  I climb over him, my face hovering over his. I can’t see him, but I can feel his breath still shuddering through his lips. I don’t know what he’s done to me, but I keep kissing him over and over, and he kisses me back like he can’t get enough of me. It’s hot and it fills me with desire, no matter how long we go at it.

  My head lays in the crook of his arm, and I feel his voice rumbling through his chest, into my skin.

  “Adriana, I want you to come with me to my mom’s house for Sunday dinner.”

  My eyes widen in the dark. “You want me to meet your mom?”

  “Of course, I do.” He presses his lips over my hair and kisses my temple. “Don’t you?”

  “Yes,” I say immediately, following the flood of anxiety. I can’t help but feel this is going a bit fast, whatever this is between us. I’m touched that he finds me so important that he would introduce me to his mother.

  “You don’t have dinner at your mom’s on Sunday?”

  The bedroom rings with my hollow laughter. “I haven’t since I moved out of her place six years ago. She’s not really my mother anymore. She’s a cancer.” Eyes burning, I immediately regret it. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

  He strokes my arm. “You can say anything you want to me.”

  “What kind of person says that about their own mother?”

  “A person whose mother took out a fifty-thousand dollar loan in her name. Not everyone’s family is flesh and blood. Jack’s been like a father to me ever since my dad passed.”

  I try to think of who was my father figure. Who stepped in when Dad was murdered? No one. With my grandparents dead and no living aunts or uncles on either side, the responsibility fell to my mother to fulfill both roles.

  Didn’t work out so well.

  “Do you think she’ll like me?”

  “I like you and that’ll be enough for her. Besides, what’s not to like?”

  My alcohol problem? My kleptomaniac tendencies?

  He kisses my head again, sending another flight of the butterflies in my stomach.

>   Chapter 8

  Gleaming aisles of white and cameras affixed in shiny, black bowls on the ceiling don’t stop me from raking my eyes over the millions of tiny, bright bottles of foundation and tubes of lipstick. I’m behind Maria as she picks up a vial of this or that, my mind thinking how I can steal some makeup without being caught by her, or the employees, or the camera in the ceiling.

  I’m stressed, okay? When I’m stressed out, I act out. I drink. I steal.

  Dimly, I hear a voice that sounds like my mother’s: Shame on you.

  But my heart has turned to stone. What does she know about shame?

  It’s unfortunate that Maria decided to enter the Sephora store. There’s so much that I want, but can’t afford. I just paid off the last of Mom’s credit card debt, and there’s still a lot more to go for the rest of my tuition and the loan. And I can’t help but want things. I’m a greedy monster.

  An attractive, coral lipstick appeals to me and I slip it into my purse. On the pretense of digging through my purse to find my phone, I remove the plastic wrapper and security strip. My heart pounds when an employee smiles at me.

  “Can I help you find anything?”

  “No, thank you!”

  Fuck. One of these days I’ll get caught.

  More and more products get stuffed down my purse and my heart beats a violent tattoo against my chest as we line up for the register.

  “Have you declared a major yet?”

  Maria’s happy voice breaks through my anxiety. “Um—not yet. To be honest, I don’t know if I’ll be able to afford tuition.”

  It’s embarrassing to talk about this while everyone in line can hear us. She gives me a widened look.

  “What do you mean?”

  Looking into her round eyes, I know that I can’t bear telling her the truth about my mom. She has rich parents. She wouldn’t understand.

  “Financial aid doesn’t cover everything. I need somewhere around twenty grand for the rest of the year.”

  She immediately spouts out with suggestions and somewhat pleading arguments. “They just can’t do that to you, Adriana. There must be another way.”

  I let her get it out of her system as my shoulders tense. We’re walking out of the store and my heart’s beating like it wants to jump out of my chest. It’s almost painful.

  A sigh blows out of my mouth as we leave the store, no alarm bells ringing, no angry voices yelling after me. I’m lucky.

  “We can talk about it at dinner tonight with my parents. Maybe they can think of something.”

  My face burns. “Actually, I’m going with Vince at his mother’s house.”

  Maria stops in the midst of walking, smiling as she looks down at me under her sunglasses. “Seriously?”

  “Yeap.”

  She covers her mouth with a tanned hand, laughing. “Oh my God. You have to tell me all about it. There has to be something seriously dysfunctional about their relationship.”

  The comment burns my face, but I’m so grateful that she’s backed off on antagonizing me about Vince that I don’t say anything. “I doubt it. From the way that he talks about her, they seem to get along pretty well.”

  “Oh, come on Ade.”

  Now I’m starting to feel irritated. “I mean it! You know, he’s not the horrible man you think he is. He’s really thoughtful. He delivers food all the time because he knows that I’m broke. That’s the kind of guy he is.”

  Just thinking about him puts a grin on my face. Every day away from him hurts a little bit more. I fell for him, fast and hard. Who else could treat me the way he does? Who else could give me the most amazing sex I’ve ever had?

  “That is thoughtful,” she admits grudgingly.

  When we return to the dorms, I try to hide the contents of my purse as I stuff them under my bed. Maria’s smiles at me, making me feel incredibly guilty. I deserve to be locked up.

  I endure several hours of listening to Maria talk to herself about what classes she ought to take. She decides to major in psychology and I hear her read the course descriptions out loud. Bitterness rises in my throat. It’s not her fault that her parents are wealthy, but damn am I jealous.

  While shopping, I bought an innocent-looking dress that would be appropriate for his mother. A heart-stopping sensation fills me when I think about meeting his mother. I’ll probably have to return it, so I don’t take off the tags.

  Knock-knock.

  Maria’s head perks up from her computer screen and I bolt upright.

  “It’ll be fine.”

  “Yeah,” I say in a faint voice.

  Twisting the handle of my clutch, I walk out of the bedroom into the living room. I open the door, and a tall-dark haired man dressed in dark jeans and a button-up shirt winks at me. Vince doesn’t pull me into his arms like he usually does; instead he gives me a tense smile and a quick peck on my cheek.

  What’s wrong with him?

  “Hey.”

  “Hey, let’s go.”

  Clearly, he’s in a hurry to leave. Vince walks in front of me and walks briskly down the steps, almost jogging down. I can barely keep up with him. Grabbing my hand, he moves swiftly down the sidewalk, his head moving from side to side, scanning.

  “Is there something wrong?”

  He suddenly becomes aware of me and his pace slows down. “Nothing I can’t handle.”

  “What does that mean?”

  My lungs freeze when I’m ushered into the car. Vince gets in, looking around before he sinks into his seat, his fingers white as they grip the steering wheel.

  “You’re in some kind of trouble, aren’t you?”

  “Everything’s fine.” He turns his head, giving me a quick smile before he pulls out of the garage.

  Maybe I don’t want to know.

  The ride to his mother’s house is silent as Vince weaves in and out of traffic, and finally we’re swinging around Harlem to leave Manhattan. Orange light shines through the window as we drive over the Robert F Kennedy Bridge and lands over my thighs in an orange strip.

  I’m a little bit nervous as we drive closer and closer to Brooklyn.

  She might not like me. My own mother doesn’t.

  “What did you do today?”

  Vince looks unhappy, almost like he wants to distract himself. I hope he’s not regretting that he brought me.

  “I bought this dress. I also—I shoplifted a bunch of makeup.”

  The guilt’s been eating at me all day and I want to confess to someone. I expect him to be angry, but he throws back his head and laughs like it’s a hilarious joke.

  “Why?”

  “I was stressed out,” I say as my cheeks burn.

  “Over this?”

  “Over everything.”

  He lays his hand on my lap and squeezes my thigh. “It’ll be all right eventually, Adriana. You’ll see.”

  Why do I get the feeling he’s talking about himself?

  Eventually, we stop in an upscale part of Brooklyn in front of a row of low-rise, brownstone apartment homes. Dappled sunlight shines through the trees lining the block. It’s a beautiful, quiet street.

  “I bought this place for Ma a few years ago.” He leans on his car, regarding the house for a moment with a small smile.

  I’m envious. I wish I could do that for my mother. Hell, for myself. “This is really nice, Vince.”

  “Didn’t you say your Mom lives in Brooklyn?”

  “Bushwick, yeah.”

  Vince winces sympathetically as he walks around the car, sliding an arm around my neck. His fingers brush against the tag under the fabric and he pulls it out.

  “No, don’t take it off!”

  “What? Why not?”

  I’m so fucking embarrassed as he looks at me with laughter in his eyes, uncomprehending.

  “I need to return it,” I hiss.

  “It fits you perfectly.”

  “I can’t afford it, all right?”

  My skin heats up as people walk by us. My eyes dart franti
cally up and down the street, anywhere away from him.

  “I’ll pay for it,” he says in a low voice.

  I meet his eyes, mortified. “Vince, no!”

  “Oh, yes,” he says in a darker tone. He holds my neck firmly, his eyes narrowing. “You don’t let me buy you anything.”

  “That’s so not true! You get me food all the time—”

  “That’s nothing.”

  “It is not nothing. It adds up.”

  Before I can protest, he rips the tag from my dress and glances at the price. “It’s peanuts and you’re worth it. You deserve nice things.” He takes my furious face in his hands and kisses me so gently that I can’t help but melt a little.

  “Thanks,” I say breathlessly when he pulls back.

  “Your welcome, my little thief.”

  My heels wobble on the pavement as we walk up the steps to his mother’s brownstone. The polished, dark wooden door frames a thick glass. Vince rings the doorbell and I’m digging my nails into his palm. A grin spreads over his face as a distorted shape grows larger.

  The door swings open; revealing a slight woman with blonde dyed hair and tanned skin. She’s dressed in a long, flowing skirt and a white blouse.

  “Hi, Ma.”

  “Vinny!”

  She wraps her thin arms around Vincent, who stoops down so that she can kiss him on both cheeks. Her face shines with ecstasy as her gaze falls on me and gasps out loud.

  “Oh my God, you must be Adriana!”

  I’m blushing when she pulls me in for a hug, kissing both cheeks as her body trembles with excitement. Vincent’s mom exudes warmth, but it’s a little bit intimidating to be on the receiving end of so much attention from a stranger. She holds my arms as she pulls back, appraising me. To my astonishment, her eyes are wet.

  “Bless you! I never thought my Vinny would find someone.”

  “Ma!”

  “Well, it’s true!” she says defensively.

  She releases me and I look over to see Vince shaking his head, a faint pink tinge coloring his cheeks.

  I laugh a little bit to myself as he ushers me inside. I’ve never seen him look vulnerable, but I’m thoroughly enjoying it. It’s fascinating to see controlling, possessive, proud Vince squirm. The house is decked out with brand new furniture. I expected to see moth-eaten couches from the 80’s, but Vince’s mother seems to be committed to making her house look modern. Religious artifacts are strewn around the house: figurines of Jesus, Joseph, and Mary adorn the mantelpiece over the fire, there are crosses everywhere, small Italian flags, but none of it is cheesy or overdone. The whole house is meticulously clean. It’s clear that Vince probably pays for a maid service, so that his mother doesn’t have to do it herself.

 

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