by Julia Sykes
“I’m going to stay at his place,” I fought to keep the sad resignation from my voice.
My friend’s face fell. “Oh, god. Are you mad at me? I didn’t mean anything by it. I’m sure he’s a, um, a great guy. I was just concerned, that’s all. You’ve never even mentioned this guy, and now you’re staying at his place? Talk to me, Char. Please don’t be mad.”
I placed my hand over her fisted one. Rachel might be shallow at times, but she truly cared about me. “I’m not mad,” I assured her. “I didn’t want to tell you about him because I didn’t think you would understand. You’re right. He’s not my usual type. But like you said, he’s gorgeous.” I forced out a sly smile.
Her face instantly lit up. “You skankbucket! You’re sleeping with the hot bad boy? Get it, girl!” She sounded genuinely proud of my daring conquest. She gave me a little push toward the door. “Don’t let me stand between you and your man candy. But I want all the deets tomorrow.”
I struggled to hold my smile. This was so something I didn’t want to share with Rachel. “Okay,” I lied. “We can chat before Bio Lab.” I had no intention of arriving even one minute before class. Avoidance was the best tactic until I could come up with something better.
“Good good! We’ll have coffee and chat. Be sure to work off some calories if you want another one of those milkshakes.” She gave me an exaggerated wink to let me know exactly how she expected me to burn off the calories.
“I’ll let you know how it goes,” I promised with false brightness. “See ya, girl!”
I grabbed up my very full tote bag and left my bestie behind. When I returned to Santiago, he insisted on carrying the feminine bag for me. He looked almost comical with it slung over his shoulder, but no one would have dared to laugh at him. I certainly didn’t. In fact, not a word passed between us on the commute back to his place.
When we finally stepped into his apartment, he offered the tote back to me, and I gratefully snatched at my possessions.
“You can have the bedroom,” Santiago told me, gesturing toward the tiny room.
My brows rose. “And what about you?”
His shoulders rose and fell negligently. “I have a couch.”
Irrational guilt nipped at me. He was going to sleep on the couch indefinitely? I had no idea how long this deal with my father would last. Honestly, I didn’t like to think about it. I would rather live in the moment than worry about the future. I had spent so many years longing for the day I would escape my father’s house, so now I lived each of those days to the fullest. Thinking of when I might be able to escape Santiago was tantamount to defeat. The future was no longer something to yearn for. I refused to go back to being the scared, sad little girl I had been under Jonas’ roof.
“Okay. Thanks,” I added stupidly. Santiago didn’t deserve my gratitude. I would much prefer my twin bed to his larger one. I squared my shoulders. “I’m going to take a shower.” I informed rather than asking. If he wanted me to live here, then I didn’t have to ask his permission to use the facilities. It was my place as much as his.
He nodded his agreement. “Dinner will be ready in half an hour.”
I glared up at him. “I’m not hungry.” I had consumed far too many calories for one day.
He glared right back. God, he was intimidating when his eyes hardened like that. “I’m cooking dinner. You will eat it. You’re my responsibility now. Besides,” he eyed my slender frame, “you look like you could use a good meal.”
I gaped at him. Had he really just criticized me for being too skinny? Didn’t he realize that was the point? My mouth snapped closed. I would take it as a compliment. And if he thought I was eating more bacon, he was mistaken.
Rather than arguing, I slung my bag over my shoulder and headed for the bathroom. A hot shower and a fresh coat of makeup would help me take control of the situation. I could put my face back on, and I would be Charlotte the Hudson U student again. Not Charlotte the mobster’s daughter. Not Charlotte the gangster’s captive. I wondered if I would ever just be Charlotte, but I didn’t know how to be her without a label attached.
Yes, Charlotte the Hudson U student was the best of the three options. I turned on the shower and washed away the traces of the gangster’s captive.
By the time I emerged from the bathroom, I felt almost normal. The rich scent of red meat cooking wafted into the short hallway, and my stomach betrayed me by rumbling. I entered the tiny kitchen/living room space to find Santiago setting out plates.
“Perfect timing.” His unadulterated smile hit me square in the chest. But it immediately slipped to a small frown. “You put on makeup,” he remarked.
For a moment, I withered under his disapproval. I shook it off and lifted my chin. “Yes. Do you have a problem with that?”
He shook his head in an exasperated jerk. “No. But you were beautiful without it. You don’t need it.”
I shifted under his scrutiny and cut my eyes away. What was I supposed to say to that? I didn’t appreciate him thinking of me that way. Nope. I didn’t. No matter what that warm glow in my belly told me. It was just a conditioned response to praise. I had received it so rarely throughout my life that my body had this stupid reaction every time someone complimented me. Even if that someone was a violent gangster holding me against my will.
My fingers threaded together in front of me, twisting in my anxiety. Suddenly, his heat engulfed me, and his warm hand closed over mine, stilling the nervous gesture.
“Don’t be afraid.” His lightly accented voice was velvety smooth, and his thumb hooked through my fingers to rub soothing circles across my palms. “I’m not going to hurt you. I won’t...” He paused, searching for a word that wouldn’t frighten me further. “I won’t use you.”
He thought I was afraid he would want to have sex with me because he found me beautiful. Strangely, that hadn’t crossed my mind. I had been more annoyed with myself and my irrational reaction to his blatant appreciation of my looks.
Now he was touching me again, and still, I wasn’t afraid. I found comfort in his calming touch. Another stupid response from the affection-starved girl inside me. I allowed the contact to continue for a few seconds longer than I should have before slowly pulling free of his grip. He let me put distance between us, even though he could have easily kept hold of me if he wanted to.
He won’t rape me. He won’t hurt me. His gentle actions reached me in a way his words couldn’t. Lies spilled so easily from men’s lips, but tenderness was harder to fake.
Naïve, a little voice whispered. I took a step back.
A chair scraped against the floor, calling my gaze up to him.
“Sit.” It sounded irritatingly like a command, but Santiago’s eyes were gentle, and he was holding a wooden chair back from the tiny kitchen table, as though he was a gentleman courting me on a date. The very idea was ridiculous, but then again, nothing about the powerful man standing before me looked ridiculous. A small, encouraging smile tilted up the corners of his lips. When he was relaxed like this, I realized how full those lips were. Rachel would have called them totally kissable. My eyes flicked up to his. The light of the spare bulb suspended from the ceiling caught in the deepest facets of his irises, making them sparkle despite their dark hues.
I didn’t remember making the conscious decision, but suddenly I found myself seated at the table. He pushed my chair in.
Was it really possible that I was being held hostage by a gentleman gangster? I supposed it was preferable to a violent one.
Then I remembered how blood had sprayed from Ortiz’s mouth under Santiago’s fist.
He’s violent, ruthless, cold. I can’t forget that. Not even when his chocolate eyes looked at me so warmly. Especially not then. He was still a predator. Weren’t the most perfect predators the most beautiful?
He placed a plate in front of me before taking a seat for himself. I stared down at the beautifully prepared steak and seasoned potatoes. The aroma wafted up to me, tempting me. I though
t about my little black pencil skirt. No way can I eat this.
“Eat, Charlotte.”
I couldn’t withstand both the mouthwatering aroma and his firm prompting. Without a thought, the first bite of potatoes hit my tongue, and I closed my eyes in bliss. I barely resisted the urge to moan. His answering chuckle was low, holding a cocky edge of victory. I shot him a glare, but he held his amused smile. I huffed out a sigh and took another bite.
Damn, my prison food was delicious. “Where did you learn to cook like this?” The question popped out around a mouthful of steak.
Santiago’s smile brightened further. “My mother. I was always following her around the kitchen as a boy, so she figured I might as well help.”
“So is your family here in New York?” I asked. I told myself it was wise to learn more about my jailor, but there was a spark of true curiosity driving me.
His grin vanished as though I had wiped it away. “No. They’re in Miami.”
“Oh. My family’s all here,” I babbled to cover the awkwardness, like any good sorority girl would. Then I remembered I wasn’t a sorority girl yet, and my family stories were all well-practiced lies. I only had Jonas and Derek. I supposed my mother was out there somewhere, but if she was in New York she certainly hadn’t bothered to call or send a birthday card in twenty-one years. She had been gone almost as soon as I was born.
The awkwardness returned, stretching into silence this time as my reality sank back in. I wasn’t Charlotte the Hudson U student anymore. Santiago had taken that identity from me. Now I wasn’t sure who I was, but I sure as hell didn’t like being her.
Chapter 5
“Lock the door behind you.”
I blinked and turned back to Santiago, who had been crowding me to his apartment with the watchful closeness of a bodyguard. Now, he stood a few feet away from where I paused in his doorway.
“Aren’t you coming in?” I asked, confused and off-balance at the loss of his heat beside me. Somewhere on the walk from Bio Lab back to his place, his nearness had become reassuring rather than discomfiting. I hadn’t forgotten the harshness of Ramirez’s fingers on my arm the day before, and I much preferred Santiago shadowing me to facing that threat again.
“No,” he said. “I have work to do. You stay here, and keep the door locked.”
Work. Of course. Santiago had to go out and deal his precious drugs. Or beat someone up. Or whatever grisly task his “job” called for.
My stomach turned. Somehow, between him pulling out my chair and holding my hand, I had almost forgotten about what he did. I had convinced myself that he wasn’t a danger to me, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t dangerous.
I gave him a curt nod of understanding and slammed the door on his handsome face. I made sure to turn the lock back with enough force that he would hear it click into place. I wished I could lock him out. Too bad he was the one with a key. Still, the startled expression that flickered across his features as I closed the door on him was satisfying.
He wanted me to be obedient? I could definitely obey him when he told me to stay away from him. I wondered how many hours I had to myself before he returned. Now that I was completely alone for the first time since Santiago had taken me, I didn’t really know what to do with myself. Usually at this time of day, I would be in the library studying or giggling about boys with Rachel.
I went to the bedroom and flopped down on the bed. I supposed I could study, but my brain really didn’t feel like working any more right now. Bio Lab had been tough, especially considering I had to focus on ignoring Rachel’s annoyed glare. I had skipped out on our coffee date at the last minute, and she was pissed. Her expression had turned downright angry when I ducked out of class five minutes early to meet up with Santiago. I wasn’t ready to face her questions yet, but I couldn’t avoid her forever. Not without messing up our friendship.
I sighed and fished my phone out of my laptop bag. It was time for an apology call. Only, when the screen lit up, I saw I had half a dozen missed texts from Derek. My phone had been on silent for the last three hours; I hadn’t wanted it to beep during class. After flipping the ringer back on, I opened the messages.
How are you?
Are you okay?
Charlotte, answer me.
I’m worried about you. Please get in touch.
Charlotte. Call me now, or I’m coming to get you.
Crap. I thought I had assured Derek that I was safe when I texted him the day before. Apparently he wanted further confirmation. His last message had been sent almost thirty minutes earlier. I hastily selected his contact info and connected the call, hoping he hadn’t already done something stupid. My heart sank when it rang through to voicemail. It was my turn to send a frantic text.
I’m fine. Please call me.
I stared at my phone for a full five minutes, waiting for his call. It didn’t come. I took a deep breath and tried to calm my racing heart. Derek ran a business. It was too early for his club to be open, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t busy checking inventory or going over the books. The Kings had no reason to hurt him. I had behaved myself. Santiago said he wouldn’t hurt Derek if I cooperated.
In an attempt to distract myself, I tried to play Candy Crush, but I kept losing. I couldn’t focus. All I could think about was Derek getting his face smashed in, just like Santiago had done to Ortiz on the night he took me.
I jolted at a knock on the front door. Santiago wouldn’t knock. He had a key. I held my breath and waited, hoping they would realize he wasn’t home and go away. Whoever was outside the apartment was no friend of mine.
The knocking turned to pounding. “Santiago! Carter wants to see his sister!” Dark laughter drifted through the door.
Oh, no. I stood on shaking legs and went to check the peephole. What I saw outside made my stomach drop. Derek stood foremost, his square jaw tight. Ortiz and Reyes flanked him. My brother was strong, but he was crazy to come here with the two Kings. Especially if he thought Santiago might be here as well.
I placed my hand on the doorknob and willed my fingers to stop trembling. I would just let Derek see I was okay and then send them away. Nothing good could come of the Kings being here. I opened the door just enough so Derek could see me.
“Derek,” I said quickly. “I’m fine. See?” I shot a nervous glance at Ortiz. His wide, mean face was still bruised from the beating he had taken from Santiago, but his lips were curled with malicious anticipation. My eyes found my brother’s golden ones again. “You should go.”
“Let us in,” Reyes commanded. He was tall and lean, but heavily muscled enough to be intimidating. “We want to see Santiago. He needs to have a talk with your brother.”
“He’s not here. I’ll tell him you stopped by.” I was proud my voice didn’t waver as I moved to close the door.
Before it swung shut, one of the Kings shoved Derek from behind. The force of his big body hitting the door made it slam back into me, knocking the air from my chest and sending me reeling. I had barely sucked in a breath when Ortiz stepped into the apartment, and Reyes closed the door behind him, locking us all in the tiny hallway. I backpedaled into the living room, and the Kings followed, ushering Derek along in front of them. I caught a flash of silver, and I moved before I thought.
“Derek!” I threw myself at Ortiz in an attempt to knock the switchblade away from my brother, raking my fingernails down the King’s forearm as I scrabbled to stop the arc of the knife. The little red furrows that appeared in his skin were enough to make him pause. I heard him curse just before he swung at me. The vicious backhand would have hurt under normal circumstances, but the lasting damage from where my father had hit me with his gun flared with sickening pain. Everything flashed black to red and black again as my head swam.
“Charlotte! Don’t you fucking touch her!” I was dimly aware of Derek’s snarl as strong hands closed around my waist, lifting me up to my feet. My back slammed against the wall, making my head pound. I blinked hard to clear it, willing t
he world to come back into focus. Derek was in danger. I was in danger. This wasn’t the time to pass out. Besides, I had been through far worse and maintained consciousness.
When reality settled back into place, I found Reyes’ pockmarked face just inches from mine, his lips curved in a cruel grin.
“Tú hermano thinks he can make demands,” he said softly, his pungent breath washing over my face. “He doesn’t want cocaína in his club, he doesn’t want us working there, he wants to see you,” he listed Derek’s sins. I tried to twist away, but his fingers closed around my jaw, holding me in place. My eyes cut around him, searching for Derek. He stood stock still, his horrified gaze locked on my neck. I became aware of something cool and sharp pressing against my throat. My breath stuttered, and the blade nicked my skin.
“Let her go,” Derek ground out. “We can go back to the club. I’ll take your fucking shipment. Just leave Charlotte alone.”
Reyes’ black stare remained fixed on me. “No. This is why she’s part of the deal. You need to understand what happens when you don’t cooperate, Carter.”
Fear flooded my system as the knifepoint slowly dragged down to the hollow of my throat. The pressure was too light to pierce my skin, but then Reyes twisted the blade so that it caught under the upper edge of my blue silk blouse. The delicate fabric parted easily. The soft whisper of it tearing as he slashed the knife downward seemed to rip through my ears. Cool air had barely hit my abdomen before Derek launched himself at Reyes. Ortiz was too surprised by his sudden movement to hold him back, and my brother was made stronger by rage.
The blade clattered to the floor when Derek slammed into Reyes. The King’s head hit the wall with a loud crack, but Ortiz jumped in before Derek could get the upper hand. He pulled my brother off Reyes and tackled him to the ground. Reyes shook himself, his face twisting to a mask of fury. My eyes found the knife. It lay on the linoleum floor in the kitchen. I made a dash for it.