Taking his hand, I let him pull me off the bed, and lead me toward the door. “I will see you in the morning, Andre,” Paulo said, and Andre nodded.
“Yes, jefe. Enjoy your night.” The fact that he’d got those words out in such a cold, steady tone, made me cringe. I tried to remember the way he’d held me, kissed me, whispered against my ear. I tried to remember that he wanted to save me — but as we left the room and Paulo let the door close behind us, I couldn’t feel anything but fear.
Twenty-Two
Andre
I heard the door shut and instantly hit the floor, my knees slamming into it with enough force to send shocks of pain up, but I barely felt it. Cold, black rage was swarming inside me, and somewhere in the mix was actual fear. Something I hadn’t felt in so long, but it was there. Desperate and terrible.
I slammed my fist into the floor. Two, three, four times, until I knew my knuckles were bloody again but it wasn’t enough. It didn’t hurt enough, it wasn’t getting through all of the shit crowding my head.
Paulo has Nicky. He has her right now, in his room, and he’s going to hurt her, fuck her.
He might kill her.
My ribs hurt, there was pain in my chest, and I’d never felt so fucking helpless. Not since I’d knelt over Hernan and tried to convince him to stay alive — and I couldn’t do that again. I couldn’t do that with Nicky.
Standing up, I ripped the top drawer of my dresser open and grabbed a gun and a clip, loading the weapon and going for the door, but I stopped with my hand on the doorknob. Resting my forehead on the door I cursed, and collapsed again. Back against the wood, I tapped the gun against my head, harder and harder.
There wasn’t an out. I couldn’t fix this. I couldn’t fix it without ruining everything, without getting us killed. I hadn’t lied to Nicky, I knew this was a test. I knew exactly what it was, and Paulo had planned it perfectly. He’d backed me into a corner just so that I’d have to do this, just so that I would have to be the one to hand her over.
Futile rage burned me up from the inside, and I couldn’t stop the sting in my eyes because I had a horrible feeling that me hurting her, making her cry out in pain, would be the last time I ever touched her. That me handing her over to Paulo would be the last thing I did to her, and the worst. I’d failed to protect her, and even if she survived, even if she did whatever she had to in order to survive this — I wasn’t sure she’d ever let me hold her again, and with a groan I realized that’s all I wanted at the end of this nightmare.
I just wanted to be able to hold Nicky again and promise her that she was safe and mean it.
As I stared at the gun in my hands, the edges blurry through the angry tears that I refused to let fall, I knew without a doubt that if Nicky died I’d be right behind her. As soon as I put a bullet in every bastard involved in this, with Paulo first on the list.
But if she survived, if she did what I’d begged her to do, then as long as she was free I’d never darken her door. I’d disappear from her life forever, and just be the bad memory I should have been already.
* * *
Nicky
Paulo led me to his room at the end of the second floor, on the opposite side of the stairs from Andre’s room, and I felt myself trying to fade. To not be present for whatever was about to happen. I had no doubt this man wanted to hurt me, that he would fuck me whether I fought or not, but he was a perfect gentleman as he opened the door and gestured for me to go inside.
It was a huge room with a pair of French doors that led to a balcony. Through the gauzy curtains over the windows, I could see the grounds outside, dark and sprawling, with lights in the distance. A reminder of just how fucked I was. In the middle of Miami, but I may as well be on the moon for all the help it gave me. There was a large sitting area in front of the balcony on the left side, including a television on the wall, and the right side held a massive bed, and the entrance to a giant bathroom. Everything was done in light colors, except for the dark brown leather of the chairs and couch, and the dark wood of the headboard and posts on the bed. It was like a suite at some luxury beach resort, but as the door clicked and locked behind me I didn’t feel relaxed at all.
I stopped walking forward, and felt Paulo approach me from behind, long before he laid his hands over my waist. “Tell me, belleza… have you showered since Andre fucked you last?”
His touch made my skin crawl, and the feel of his breath on my shoulder made me nauseous, but I managed to shake my head.
“Then go clean up. Quickly. There is no need for clothes after.” He let go of me, stepping past me to move to a small bar set up near the sitting area, and I hurried to the bathroom to escape him. Anything to delay what was coming.
My hands were shaking so badly that I had trouble undoing the button to my shorts. Eventually I managed to strip and step into the frosted glass of the standing shower. Paulo had a collection of soaps and things, but I barely skimmed the labels as I found one to wash me. I let myself cry in the shower, because I needed to get it out. I didn’t want to cry in front of Paulo, I wanted to be as detached as I could when he… did whatever he planned.
It was worse when I thought about it, so I tried not to. I tried to be a robot, as cold and empty as Andre, but I hadn’t had near enough practice and by the time there was nothing left to do I had no choice except to turn off the shower and step out onto the plush rug. The towels in here were softer, larger, and I dried my body quickly so I could wrap one around me, and use another on my hair.
“Belleza, come.” Paulo’s voice came from the bedroom, and I took another minute to squeeze water out of my hair, before I managed to drop the towels. The huge mirror above his double sinks reflected my fear, and the pale bruises across my body. Most were healing, Andre hadn’t been as rough in the last few days, but I was sure that I would look very different in the morning. When Paulo was done with me.
If you’re still alive.
I flinched, and forced myself to walk to the doorway, letting Andre’s urgent voice echo in my head. His pleas for me to just survive. That was all I had to do, I just had to live until the morning, and then he would come for me. He would get me out. I knew it, I knew it with everything in me… but it didn’t help.
When I stepped into the room, I’d expected Paulo to be near the bed, ready to get this over with, but he was in one of the chairs. Worse, he wasn’t alone.
I recognized Luis from the pepper in his hair, unable to make myself move forward until Paulo beckoned. “Come here, arms at your sides. I want to see what has Andre so enamored.”
It took every bit of self-control I had to make myself walk towards them, fists clenched tight at my sides, and I found a bit of space on the wall and focused on it. It wasn’t until I was standing near the couch that faced the television that Luis finally turned to look at me. They both had drinks in their hands, and Paulo gestured to a third drink on a coaster in the center of the coffee table in between them.
“Kneel there.” He pointed at the space between the couch and coffee table. “And have a drink, belleza.”
My nerves were shot as I did what he said, confused that he wasn’t violent, that he was almost being… polite? Yet, I knew how quickly that could turn. He’d drawn a knife on me twice, and ordered me into the basement in the same tone. Still, I finished the tequila in one go, and he chuckled.
“Give her some more, Luis.” Paulo watched me, even though I strained to keep my eyes on a neutral patch of wall, his gaze was so insistent that I had to look. There was something wrong with him, something off in the way he smiled like the world was wonderful as he gave me drinks and had me naked in his bedroom. With Luis.
Just to spite him, I finished the second glass just as quickly, begging to be drunk enough not to care what they did.
Unfortunately, Paulo just seemed amused. “Why do you think Andre wanted you?” he asked, and I twitched as I set my glass back on the coaster, hoping Luis would refill it.
“I don’t know.”
“Because he wanted me, he didn’t want to share me. He’s said as much more than once.” I twitched when he shifted on the couch, muscles shaking with the urge to run, even when I knew it was pointless.
“The others wanted you as well. I’ve had several discussions about my decision to allow Andre to keep you.” Paulo made a thoughtful sound as he took a small sip of his drink. “Of course, he was always aware that I could have you if I wanted you.”
“I know.”
“How does that make you feel?” he asked, and I wanted to scream at him. I felt my anger spike, momentarily overwhelming my fear before I pushed it back.
“I just want to go home,” I answered, reaching for my empty glass just on the off-chance it had magically refilled — it hadn’t.
“Yes, I know. Your brother was released from the hospital, by the way. I believe he is back at his home recovering.” Paulo’s spontaneous offering of the information made my mouth drop open. “And his debt to me is resolved… I do hope he is grateful for your sacrifice.”
Sacrifice?
I swallowed, my mouth going dry, and I wanted to ask for more tequila, but I knew it was pointless. “Is he safe?” I whispered.
“From me and my men? Yes.”
“Thank you.” Nodding, I tried to sit up straighter, to look stronger than I felt. “Then this was worth it.”
Paulo laughed softly, a low and sinister sound that made chills rush over my skin. “Do you think so, belleza?”
I didn’t answer, I just looked at him, trying to gauge how dangerous he really was.
He snapped his fingers and pointed at the floor in front of him. “Come here. Crawl.”
With a sickening twist of my stomach I obeyed, crawling on hands and knees around the edge of the coffee table to situate myself on the floor between his feet. He cupped my chin and forced me to look up at him, into those coal-black, unfeeling eyes.
“I want to see what José did with you. Open your mouth.” Just as he finished speaking he lifted a gun from beside him in the chair, and I leaned back. His expression flickered, and he slapped me across the face. Just hard enough to make me catch myself on the floor, the bright spark of pain bringing the tears back to my eyes as I knelt upright again.
Paulo didn’t repeat himself, I just opened my mouth and for the second time in my life I felt the metal of a gun barrel between my lips, the metallic taste of blood and oil on my tongue. I almost instantly gagged from the memories of Diego and José doing this as Paulo started to move it back and forth. Then he pushed it farther back and I choked, gagging, but he forced my head to stay still. “Luis, come help her.”
The man approached from behind and fisted my hair, just like Diego had, and I whimpered around the metal as drool pooled in my mouth.
“This is a nice sight, don’t you think?” Paulo asked, and I heard a grunt of agreement from behind me. “I have a better idea. Put her on the table, Luis.”
Luis surprised me with his strength, jerking me upright with a stinging rip of hair and shoving me down onto the coffee table as I yelped and whined. On my back, I immediately snapped my knees together, but Paulo only laughed softly.
“Tsk, tsk, belleza. Open your legs.” He tilted the gun back and forth in the air, and then drew back the top of it with a dangerous snap of metal. “Now,” he ordered, and I knew I was crying as I let my knees part. “Wider.”
Survive, just survive.
I spread them wide, keeping my eyes clenched tight, and then I felt the gun at my entrance, the pressure as the hard metal forced its way inside where I wasn’t wet at all. I cried out when he shoved it in harder, my hands reaching for him, but Luis caught my arms and pulled them back.
“That’s better,” Paulo said quietly, and then he started to fuck me with the gun. Rough thrusts of metal that felt like it was scratching inside me, and I tried to struggle, whining through clenched teeth, but Paulo had shifted his legs inside mine, his other hand holding my hip still with a painful grip.
“Please stop, please!” I was terrified that he would accidentally pull the trigger on one of those hard shoves inside me. It stung, and ached, but then I just tried to stay quiet. Tears leaked out of my eyes and into my hair as I pulled at Luis’ grip on my arms, just wanting it to be over already, even though I knew they were just starting.
“This looks good,” he mused. “What do you think, Luis?”
“Very nice, jefe.”
“Yes…” In and out, cold, hard metal being warmed by my body as he violated me with it. I was too afraid to scream, imagining the sound of the gun firing, the pain.
“Let her up,” he suddenly commanded, and he pulled the gun out of me at the same time. I almost choked in relief. Covering my eyes with one arm, wanting to be anywhere else, wanting to ignore my own steady tears, but Paulo wouldn’t let me escape even into my own head. “Sit up, belleza.”
I obeyed slowly, sitting on the edge of the table, almost eye-to-eye with him. Luis returned to the chair behind me, and I tried to stop the shaking, the tears, because Paulo was looking me over and noticing all of it.
He reached forward to brush his thumb across my lips, catching my chin when I tried to pull back. “Normally, I would make this last, but as you know we have to be up early. So, we’re going to go ahead and start the real fun.”
“Please don’t do this,” I begged, and he laughed.
“Oh, you do have a sweet voice when you’re scared. I’m sure you sound as good as Andre described when you scream…” He smirked, releasing my face. “I’ve only had the chance to hear you scream from downstairs, it will be nice to have it in person.”
“Mr. García, I—” My plan to bargain, to plea, was cut short with a hard slap that burst in a bright white flash of pain across my cheek. I gasped, but barely had the time to process it as he grabbed me by the hair and dragged me up from the table and out of the sitting area. Throwing me to the open floor, I caught myself and tried to push up, but he kicked me in the ribs before I managed it. Collapsing back to the floor I choked on my first cry, trying to curl up when he pushed my hip with his shoe to put me on my back.
“I thought you fought, belleza. This is rather… pathetic. Is it because I’m not trying to fuck you?” His smile was dangerous when he looked down at me, unbuttoning his shirt slowly. “I find the fight to be entertaining, and, trust me, you don’t want to bore me.”
Looking over at the door, I wondered if I made it to the door if Paulo would let me keep running. Let me run to Andre’s door and beg him to save me. Just as I tried to move toward it, he kicked me again, on the other side, making my ribs a matched set of pain.
After a moment, he leaned down, grabbing my face hard. “Well?”
“Go to hell,” I hissed, and then spit into his face. Paulo barely flinched, he just wiped his hand over it, and then flipped me to my stomach, knees between my thighs to spread me open. I tried to drag myself forward, but he grabbed onto my hips and dragged me back. I kicked and screamed, reaching back to scratch at his hands, and he laughed.
“That’s it. There is the fight I wanted. Luis come over.” Paulo smacked my hands away, landing a punch to my already sore ribs that had me collapsing back to the floor, the pain sharp and radiating.
“Don’t, please, don’t!” I choked out, desperate, but a moment later Luis had my wrists in his iron grip, pinned to the floor in front of me by his weight, crushing them.
“See, you have to understand that letting Andre keep you from the others is just interesting to watch. To see him act so possessive over some puta when he has never even touched a woman in my house?” His hands ran over my hips, and then I heard him opening his pants and I whined, trying to gain some leverage, but there was none. “That was fascinating… but to have him declare he won’t share you? That you are his, and his alone? Well, you understand why I can’t have that.”
“I am his,” I growled, and I m
eant it. I remembered the warmth of his body against mine, the desperate plea in my ear as he begged me to survive — and I planned to survive this, but I wasn’t going to let Paulo twist this into anything but what it was. No matter how much it hurt.
“You belong to me, cunt.” He ripped my head up by my hair, the strain all the worse from Luis’ hold on my arms. “And I’m going to hurt you, make you scream, puta, so you’ll remember it when I let you limp back to Andre tomorrow.”
“AH!” The pain as he forced his dry cock into my ass was impossible. A horrible burn, a sharp agony as he shoved himself inside me, and I was barely aware of the guttural scream until I had to breathe.
“That’s right,” he growled, pushing deeper, forcing me to take him as I tried to fight. My toes slid on the tile, nails digging furrows into my palms, and then he thrust in harder and I screamed as my back muscles tensed with the pain. Harsh and unforgiving, making me choke on the next sob that tried to escape my throat.
“God! Stop!” I begged, mindless from the torture as he started to thrust. And it only got worse as I found myself pressed into the floor, his hand between my shoulders, trying to clench my teeth through it, just to survive.
Please survive so I can come for you…
The pain was becoming a high-pitched hum in my head, a constant note that I couldn’t sustain. I couldn’t even scream anymore as he slid back and slammed inside me again and again. When I finally went limp, in too much agony to fight, he pulled out.
No. I managed a quiet sob because I hadn’t felt him come. He wasn’t done. He wasn’t done?
“Get her on the bed and clean her up. It’s fine if you get blood on the sheets.” Paulo walked past me to the bathroom, and I was useless as Luis tried to haul me upright.
Blood, he’d said blood. Had he made me bleed?
Finally, Luis just knelt beside me and picked me up in his arms, standing up and wavering for a second before he walked over and dropped me onto the sheets. “Spread your legs, knees to your chest.” With that command he walked away to the bathroom, and I heard the sound of water running, them talking, but I couldn’t focus. It had already hurt so much, what else did he want from me? Was this how I was going to die?
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