Dark Obsession (Famiglia Book 4)

by Andrea Joy

  The small moment of relaxation doesn’t last long. When the chair starts vibrating it feels like a basketball is being pushed into my back. My eyes shoot open and land on the lady who’s about to get up close and personal with my feet. A grin splits her face as she hands me a remote to what I’m assuming controls the thing currently making its way down my lower back and… oh, hell no. That’s too low for comfort. The basketball is trying to be intimate with the top of my ass. I scramble for the remote, looking for the button that’ll turn off that particular feature. I almost sag back in relief when I find the right button and the basketball disappears. Giggling to my left has me turning and pinning my gaze on Klara who’s trying to hide her laugh behind her hand.

  “I probably should’ve warned you about that, huh?”

  “A little head’s up would’ve been nice.”

  “I’m sorry,” she laughs, “I haven’t been here in ages and totally forgot that they turn that thing on automatically. It’s why I usually try to grab the remote before they do.”

  I can’t help but return her laugh. It’s pretty funny thinking back on it now. “Do people actually find that relaxing? Having a basketball being pushed into your spine?” I ask, squirming in my seat remembering how much it hurt.

  “I have no idea,” Klara says. “I’d rather go a couple rounds with my massage therapist then use that feature on this chair.”

  “Amen to that.” I couldn’t have agreed more. I might be hurting after an appointment with my massage therapist but at least it was helpful. I couldn’t see how having that thing being pushed into your spine would alleviate any tension. If anything, it was bound to make it worse.

  After our fresh mani-pedi’s Klara insists on treating us to lunch, but as soon as the waiter has taken our order the easygoingness of earlier disappears, and I suspect it has something to do with my older brother, Dante. That suspicion is confirmed when Klara clears her throat and fidgets in her seat.

  “I’m sorry,” we both blurt out at the same time and then laugh when we realize what we did.

  “What are you sorry for, Sofia?”

  I sigh, not really sure where this conversation is going to go or where exactly I’m hoping it’ll go. “I’m sorry for what my brother did to you. I…” The events of that week have been weighing heavy between us for so long it was like a dark cloud hanging over our relationship, preventing us from getting any closer.

  Klara shakes her head and I immediately stop talking, afraid that she’ll call me out and claim bullshit.

  “You have nothing to apologize for. You couldn’t control Dante like you can’t control the weather. Dante was going to do whatever Dante wanted to do. And plus,” she sits back taking a sip of her ice water, “you were as much a victim as I was.” She reaches over to cover my hand with hers, gently squeezing it. “You have nothing to apologize for, Sofia. Nothing.”

  “I just don’t want to make things awkward for you, Klara. I’m afraid that you won’t be able to look at me without seeing him. That the more I intrude on you and Braxton, the less you’ll be able to heal and move on.”

  I don’t miss the way she flinches and hurries to cover it. “You’re not intruding. But you’re right, I’m not where I want to be in my road to recovering, but that’s not on you, Sofia. Please, don’t think for a minute that I hold you responsible for what Dante did or that I associate you with him. My inability to move forward is of my own doing, not yours. It’s been so great having you in the house. It’s not so quiet anymore with Braxton gone, sometimes days on end. Not so lonely,” she whispers that last part and if I wasn’t paying so much attention to her, I would’ve missed it.

  Pushing away from the table, I get up and move around to sit next to her, immediately pulling her into my arms. I had a feeling that was the most she’s told anybody of how she feels. Lonely. Like it didn’t matter if you were in a crowded room surrounded by loved ones, it still felt like nobody really saw you. There was this black hole inside you that was sucking the life out of you.

  “Have you told Braxton?” I ask.

  Klara snorts, grabbing the paper napkin from the table and wiping her eyes from the few tears that managed to escape. “What? That every time he leaves, I have this unnatural fear that something’s going to happen? That I just want to attach myself to him and pray I never have to let go? That I wake up in the middle of the night just to check on Lily and make sure she’s still in her bed across the hall.”

  “It’s not unnatural. You were taken from your bed in the middle of the night. I think that’s a pretty fucking great excuse to feel the way you’re feeling.”

  “It’s not just that, but every time Braxton leaves, I’m scared that he’ll never come home. It’s the reason why he tried pushing me away in the beginning. He didn’t want to put me in any more danger, but he also didn’t want me to have to stress out about if him leaving for a meeting one day would be the last time I’d see him. I don’t want him to realize that maybe he was right all along. Maybe I don’t belong in this life.”

  “That’s a crock of shit.”

  Klara startles, her body jerking away from me like I just slapped her, so I hurry to explain. “If anyone belongs at my cousin’s side in this life, it’s you. You walked back into that warehouse and dropped Gio on his ass and then proceeded to drop a knife through his balls.”

  “Shh!” Klara hisses, looking around to make sure nobody heard what I practically shouted. I’m not even sorry. She needs to know that she’s a strong badass.

  “Not everyone has the strength to do that after going through an ordeal like you did, Klara. Not only that but I heard you went head to head with Braxton after that when he refused to acknowledge that he needed you beside him. Do you know how many people cower just from one look from my cousin? But that didn’t slow you down. You have more strength than you give yourself credit for, Klara. I only wish I had half of it.” I reach for my glass, avoiding her stare, and drinking down half the fruity cocktail before turning back to her.

  “Nightmares?” is the only thing she says, and I nod, my fingers tightening around the glass.

  “How bad are they?” Her voice is low like if she talks any louder I may bolt.

  I shrug. “It’s the same nightmare I’ve had since I was fifteen. Nothing really changes.” I pause. “I had hoped that with him being gone the nightmares would go away, but they just…” I don’t mention that the nightmares were nowhere in sight the last couple nights when I stayed over at Mason’s.

  “Seem to be getting worse,” she supplies for me.

  “You too?” I ask, our meals already forgotten.

  “Only when Braxton isn’t home. I think it’s because I know, even in sleep, that he’d protect me.”

  There’s a lull in conversation as we both process the fact that even through the abuse I faced at the hands of Dante has been over for several years while Klara’s is still somewhat fresh, we were both going through the same thing. Learning how to eradicate Dante’s ghost from our lives.

  “Sofia,” Klara says, stopping just before we reach her car. “I know we barely know each other, but if you ever need someone to talk to. Hell, even just someone to drink with when the memories get to be too much, please don’t hesitate to call me. I have a feeling the only way we’ll be able to move on from this is if we lean on each other.”

  Stepping toward her, I wrap my arms around her shoulders and pull her into a hug. “Only if you agree to do the same,” I say when we break a part.

  Chapter Fourteen

  SOFIA

  Mason picks me up the next night and takes me to a little hole in the wall family-owned restaurant just east of the city but still within the GTA. We’re seated almost immediately, and I’m surprised when I start browsing my menu and see that they serve breakfast 24/7 and they have crepes.

  “I haven’t had crepes since before my parents died,” I say, letting my fingers linger over the laminated pictures of the different kinds they offer. “My mom used to make it e
very Sunday morning before church. It became almost like a tradition.”

  Mason grins, reaching over to cover my hand with his. “You should order a plate if you want.”

  I bob my head and try to swallow around my suddenly dry throat. “Yeah, I think I will.”

  When our server comes back to take our order, I get a plate of the banana chocolate crepes with scrambled eggs and bacon. Mason gets the same but with blueberry pancakes instead of the crepes. For as long as I’ve known him, I’m surprised to find out just how much he loves blueberries. I laugh when he tells me his housekeeper, Maddy, makes sure to always stock up on blueberry muffins as well as fresh blueberries with each grocery shop.

  “She says I tend to get cranky if I don’t have my blueberry muffin with my coffee in the morning. I think she’s just full of it,” he jokes.

  “Has she been with you long?”

  He pauses with his mug of coffee in the air. “Since before Emily.”

  “I’m sorry,” I say, feeling guilty for bringing it up. “We don’t have to talk about it.”

  He takes a drink and then shakes his head. “It’s fine. Em never wanted a housekeeper but when I started spending so many hours at the office, I knew I had to get her some help around the house. It’s a lot of work for one person.”

  I change the subject after that, and Mason seems grateful. We eat in relative silence, but it’s not awkward. It’s actually kind of nice. Growing up with Dante, Braxton, Alessandro, and Toni it was loud all the time. And after Braxton’s sister passed away, I was the only girl in our little group. It got to be too much sometimes, with the constant need for sports playing on the TV or if it wasn’t that it was video games. So, to be able to sit and have a quiet dinner with someone without feeling the need to fill it with conversation is a very nice change.

  After dinner, Mason pays our bill and then takes my hand in his and then we’re walking down the sidewalk to the Harbour. It’s beautiful with the pinks and oranges of the setting sun, but it’s not where I want to be right now. So, when we stop at a streetlight to cross, I turn in his arms and lean up to whisper in his ear.

  “Take me home.”

  Mason stares down at me with a look of concern. I meet his stare with one of my own and slowly lick my bottom lip before pulling it between my teeth. His dark eyes flair with heat when the reason for my wanting to go home registers. When the walking man signal appears on the crosswalk, he takes my hand and we hurry across the street. We’re almost in front of a big chain hotel when Mason stops and eyes the revolving doors, shakes his head then turns to hail a cab. I want to ask him about it, but then the palm of his hand is pressing into my lower back and suddenly the why doesn’t matter anymore.

  A cab pulls to a stop in front of us and Mason reaches to open the back door, ushering me in first. He gets in behind me and gives the driver the address to his house. I expect him to stay on his side of the car, but to my surprise he scoots to the middle, slides an arm behind my back between the seat and pulls me closer until I’m very nearly on top of him. His other hand cups the back of my neck and then he’s kissing me again. The kiss is hungry, and full of promise.

  I mirror his position and cup the back of his head with one of my hands and trace the other down the buttons of his shirt until I reach the waistband of his slacks. Mason thrusts up, encouraging me to keep going. Forgetting about the cab driver, I fumble with the button of his pants and flick it open. His zipper is next and then my hand is sneaking into his pants and wrapping around his hard length over the thin cotton of his briefs. He rips his lips from mine and we both look down at where I have a grasp of his cock.

  Before we can get any further, the cab pulls up outside his house. A blush works its way up my cheeks as the driver eyes me in the rear view mirror while Mason tucks himself back inside his pants. He hands the cab driver a couple bills, telling him to keep the change then he throws open the door of the cab, turning back to offer me a hand out after I’ve scooted over to his side. I take his proffered hand and step out of the cab. Mason closes the door behind me and then his hand is pressing against my lower back as he leads us up the front walk.

  MASON

  Sofia doesn’t make it more than two feet inside the front when I slam her back up against the entrance way wall, kissing along her jaw, down her neck and collarbone. What the fuck is it about entryways that are irresistible to us? My fingers curl in the flimsy material of her shirt and I rip it down the middle, my mouth immediately descending down on the swell of her perfect tits. She moans, fingers curling in the hair at the back of my head when I pull her bra down and suck one nipple into my mouth and then the other. My fingers find their way under her jeans to the sweet nub between her thighs, her hips buck, and I add a little more pressure.

  “Mason,” she moans, her back arching off the wall.

  I rip her jeans down her legs, and she kicks them off before I grip her under her ass and lift, her legs automatically wrapping around my waist. I blindly fumble for the condom in my wallet and sheath myself, not bothering to pull my pants all the way down. I told her this was no romance novel, there was going to be no fairy tale, no soft, sweet love making. It was going to be hard, fast, and dirty. I line myself up with her entrance, groaning at the wet heat I can already feel at the head of my dick.

  “This is going to be fast, little girl,” I say, nipping at her earlobe and then with a push of my hips, the walls of her pussy engulf me.

  Sofia cries out, her head hitting the wall at her back, her arms folding around my shoulders while I pound into her. My fingers tighten around her hips and I lift her up, slamming her down on my dick as I thrust into her over and over again.

  “Oh, fuck, Mase.”

  Little whimpers leave her lips while she digs her nails into the designer material at my back. I’m still fully dressed in the suit I put on that morning while Sofia’s in nothing but her bra while I fuck her up against the entrance way of the house.

  “That was…” Sofia starts but then her words trail off as she giggles and snuggles closer into my side.

  After the first round by the front door, we moved the naked party upstairs for another round.

  I chuckle, running my fingers up and down her exposed arm. “Go away with me this weekend. We can go to Toni and Kai’s place in Wasaga Beach.” The words are out before I have a chance to second guess them. It’s somewhere I’ve been wanting to take her for a while. Just the two of us, hold up in a beach house several hours away with no distractions. It seems like just the thing we need if we’re really going to make a go of this.

  “Okay,” Sofia says without argument.

  SOFIA

  “Holy shit.” I walk to the middle of the room and do a slow twirl with my head thrown back, taking in the chandelier hanging above my head, the high ceilings, and second floor balcony that looks out over the entrance way. It’s only when I stop turning do, I realize the wall-to-wall, floor-to-ceiling window with a sliding door on one end that just so happens to lead out to a private stretch of beach. The sound and smell of the ocean waves already beckoning me outside. Promising their usual escape from the issues plaguing my head.

  A throat clears behind me, interrupting my daydreams about hours spent laying on that strip of beach with a cocktail in my hand and a good book.

  “Why don’t you go check it out. I’ll take the bags upstairs,” Mason suggests, tugging the duffel bag from my hand, his fingers brush against mine causing little goosebumps to appear up my arm.

  “Um.” My eyes jump from the ocean to Mason and back to the ocean just on the other side of the glass. I should really unpack and then help Mason stock the fridge and pantry, but I can’t shake the need of being out there right now. Of sitting on the beach with my toes buried in the sand, the salty air swirling around me as the waves roll and crash onto the shore. Out there is where I feel most like myself. Out there nobody can break me or hurt me because it’s my safe place. I can hide in plain sight out there.

  “Go,” Maso
n urges, his knowing stare holding my own until I reluctantly agree, kick off my shoes, and slide open the door.

  The second my bare feet hit the warm sand all my walls come tumbling down and my shoulders sag in relief. My eyes tear up, and my throat burns but it’s not until my jean covered butt hits the sand do I allow the tears to fall. Pulling my knees up to my chest, I wrap my arms around them and rest my chin on my knees staring out at the turquoise-colored water.

  For the next several minutes, I let myself cry. Cry for the little girl whose older brother hurt her instead of protecting her. Cry for what my brother did to Klara and all those other girls. I cry for Mason and the hurt he still carries around, and lastly, I cry because no matter what, I’ll never be worthy enough for Mason. I’ll never be the woman who makes him love again. I let it all go, all the pent-up emotions I’ve been carrying around with me since that first night in my room when I was eight years old. The nightmares may have only started when I was fifteen, but the real nightmare began seven years prior.

  Ten years’ worth of anger, betrayal, guilt, and grief stream down my cheeks, but I don’t bother to wipe it away. Out here in my safe place, I can let it all go freely with no judgement, but once my feet hit the gleaming wooden floors inside the house behind me the walls will go back up and life will go on like it always has.

  Chapter Fifteen

  MASON

  “Are you ready for me, little girl?” I lick up her neck, nipping at her ear lobe. I woke up with a raging hard-on this morning and seeing Sofia curled up next to me was too tempting to ignore.

  Instead of the breathy moan I was expecting, Sofia’s body stiffens under my touch. Her hands fly to my chest, but instead of pulling me closer, she pushes catching me off guard. I falter to the side, barely catching myself from rolling off the side of the bed.