Bound: The Pentagon Group, Book 3

by Rey, Rosemary

  I reached out to touch his clasped hands. My fingers splayed over his thick, soft fingers. My forearm caressed the soft, blonde hairs of his arm. He was warm. I smiled at him, remembering his hands were so much smaller and thinner when we were younger. He’d clasp my hand whenever we’d crossed the street while walking toward the park or home from school. Even when I told him I was too old for him to hold my hand, he still would. I would never have connected his manly hands with the young boy who took care of me so many years ago.

  “How touching. Do you two want some time alone?” Aida asked.

  I went to pull away, but he held my hand tight for a beat before letting go. I couldn’t tell if it was consolation, apology, or assurance.

  “So this whole thing was really orchestrated by you, Aida. You did all of this because you disliked me so much, and you want to get back at him for not loving you and having a crush on me? Do you realize how insane this all sounds?” I asked

  “Love makes us crazy sometimes. It can unlock the very horrors we hope it would suppress,” she calmly replied. “And I loved Ben, my parents, and even him,” she motioned to Brady. “But they never loved me back,” she stopped, clapping her hands together and standing. I shook my head in disbelief.

  “This is how it’s going to go, we’re going into the master bedroom,” she reported. I was confused. “Escort them to the bedroom,” she directed Eric and Tony. Tony pulled out a gun from his holster, which I hadn’t noted before. He directed it toward Brady who finally looked scared. The dynamic had changed. The power had completely shifted to Aida, and I felt faint.

  *****

  Brady pulled me up from the couch as soon as he noticed I was out of sorts. I willed myself not to pass out. Weakness was not the characteristic I wanted to display in my last moments on Earth. When I looked into Brady’s green dominant, hazel eyes, I smiled, seeing Shay for the first time in a long time. I saw the care and affection in his eyes. I’d seen it before: watching his mother care for mine when Mami would retch after cancer treatments. He always looked concerned. It was obvious his empathy wouldn’t allow him to be a caregiver. He was too emotional for such a task. Those moments prompted him to take me and Tommy for a walk.

  My body betrayed the innocent gesture. The tingles I usually felt for Matt were now creeping up my body. My flesh prickled as Brady held me so intimately. I couldn’t fight the truth anymore. Brady would be the last man who would hold me as I lay dying.

  He whispered, “Don’t worry. I’ll protect you.” Once said, he triggered a memory long buried. I remembered I was about eleven-years-old, and it was the last week of school before summer break. I was about five-feet-three-inches tall, and my body was already developed. No matter how much I tried to hide my bust with oversized t-shirts, it was impossible to hide my womanly figure. Ballet enhanced the muscularity in my body, and I couldn’t help but stand tall and move gracefully.

  I was supposed to wait for Tommy to pick me up and walk me home from school. He failed to pick me up by the last bell. I waited a long while for him; long after all the kids and their parents had walked away. I told the teacher I was going to walk home. As I approached my block, a car slowed down and I heard a whistle, which caused me to turn and see a gray haired man with a scruffy beard. He looked damp in his white tank top. He called me over, and I quickened my pace. I hadn’t noticed Shay walking toward me. He was about seventeen, and when I noticed him, he was sprinting towards me as the man exited his car.

  The man called me once again as he approached close. Shay was a good foot taller than the short stubby man, and the next instant, he had the man pinned to a parked car. He threatened the man. I don’t remember the exact words, but I remember the simultaneous feelings of safety, fear for Shay, and slight fear for the old man. The man didn’t fight back. He recoiled and scampered away when Shay let him go. My body shook in fear of what had transpired. He told me the very same words he’d just uttered, “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of you.”

  Shay made sure I was okay before he admonished me for walking away from school grounds. He claimed his mother had called the school to have them hold me until he arrived because Tommy was detained in afterschool detention. A stern warning to remain at the school until he picked me up at the end of the day ended the entire discussion. He didn’t tell his mother or mine. I was sure he felt it was the last thing my family needed to worry about. I couldn’t imagine Brady could protect me from an armed man and two other people hell-bent on hurting us.

  “This isn’t the scuzzy guy on the street, Brady,” I retorted. He looked at me.

  “You remember?” I nodded. “I hoped you hadn’t,” he replied. “I’m going to make sure nothing happens to you.”

  When we arrived at the door, my heart beat wildly. We entered and I was immediately awestruck by the immensity of the room. I had thought I freshened up in the master bedroom suite because of the size, but this one couldn’t compare. The other room was dwarfed by the enormity of the space and the opulent finishes and furniture. The round bed was also in the middle of the room, facing the horizon of the setting sun. A round sunlight on the ceiling was surrounded by beautiful lighting for night time. The room was decadent and over the top, but something I could see was designed with a love for life and nature. I never thought I could fall for such lavish living, but this space was a divine combination of austere and comfy. There were silver picture frames on the white baby grand piano. I could see a few were Brady’s family: his mother and two brothers and their families. I saw a school picture of myself; one of my late brother; and a beautiful picture of me and my mother during the last few days of Maggie’s care.

  I pulled away from Brady and walked over to the picture, choking down a sob. My mother looked good, as beautiful as I remembered; maybe more so. She was doing so much better when Maggie was promoted to a different role. Shay was going away to college across the country. My mom usually refused to have her pictures taken, but in this instance, she let them. And I was there to pose with her. I’d forgotten how wide my smile could be. My brother used to call me “The Joker” because my grin was always from ear to ear. I lost my grin the day I learned her cancer returned aggressively, ravaging a new spot within her frail body. Behind the picture of the two of us, there was a picture of the three of us; mom, me, and Shay. He stood in the middle beside my mother and I stood on his other side. He had gripped me close, just like he did when Aida made her appearance.

  I hadn’t remembered us posing for this picture. The image sparked another memory of him. I remembered how his body felt so warm. His smell was fragrant, oozing masculinity. I remember the tingles flowed upwards to my jaw and I felt flush as he held me tight. I had crushes on boys, but in that instance, I remember feeling ‘something’. It was brotherly love, sadness for his leaving, but there was a tinge of lust. I was twelve-years-old, dealing with the confusion of being a little girl who was emerging into womanhood. I’d had my period for less than a year and there were weird urges striking at odd times, and that pose was an indication of my desire for him. I had suppressed my attraction to Shay because my mother told me he was another brother. She also reminded me a Caucasian man would most likely marry a beautiful Caucasian girl. My mother didn’t pull any punches in putting me in my place as a poor, Latina girl, who lived in the inner city of Boston with a storied history of racial segregation.

  Shay told my mother he would always take care of me. I shook the thought away, refusing to believe the flashes I was having. For a moment, it was as if Shay had shot back to the forefront of my mind. All the innocuous memories were more significant and pronounced. My twelve-year-old self was hopeful he would take care of me. I had fantasized he would be my boyfriend, and eventually marry me. I could see him in my life for the rest of my life. But within several months of him and Maggie being gone, I had moved on like most pre-teens do. Life threw me many challenges, and I’d filed his memory away in the inner recesses of my mind, only to have it jarred wide open by the revelation of his
affection for me and Aida’s desire for revenge.

  I turned to him and smiled weakly. The sheepish smile he returned caused him to bow his head, looking at his expensive leather loafers.

  “You see the altar enshrined with your family’s photos. And you doubt he did all this for you?” Aida asked.

  “He was a family friend. I was too young to want or expect more. We were just friends,” I emphasized. To finalize, I added, “That’s it, Aida.” However, I could see she was not swayed.

  “You may have been his friend, but he’s had other plans.”

  “You’ve just admitted your scheming caused us to reacquaint ourselves.” Brady said.

  “If you don’t think his interest in Parisi started this thing, you’re more naïve than I thought,” she warned. I considered her statement. Brady was interested in Parisi to build Pentagram, diversifying Pentagon’s acquisitions. He may have known my connection to Parisi, but he never approached me. Aida made everything happen because of her insanity.

  “Get on the bed,” she ordered me. I looked at her confused. Fear scattered from my mind through my body, numbing me in place. “On. The. Bed.”

  I looked over at Brady and he nodded slightly. When I hesitated too long, Eric came over and grabbed me tightly by the upper arm, putting enough pressure as to demonstrate he meant business.

  “Let her go!” Brady yelled. Eric’s grip loosened slightly, and I started walking slowly, hoping a miracle would strike them all down and allow me and Brady to escape.

  When I arrived at the edge of the bed, I sat down. “Lay down,” she instructed.

  “What are you going to do to me?” I asked.

  “Brady’s going to choke you until your last breath since he likes choking while fucking,” she said. I gagged, covering my mouth for fear I’d lose the bile, which rose up to my throat.

  “That’s enough!” Brady yelled. “You’re sick.” He attempted to lunge at her when he was overtaken by both Eric and Tony. “Just shoot me! Kill me, if it’s what you need to live the rest of your life, but leave her alone. Send her home to her husband.”

  “She’s not married,” Aida said. My brow furrowed.

  “I am. I married Matt on Saturday. We announced it to everyone,” I confirmed.

  “No. I thought Brady would like to know his girl was still very much available,” she said.

  “What are you getting at?” I asked.

  “I had someone intercept the messenger from the Judge’s office who was to deliver the license today. It is amazing how a paltry thousand dollars could entice someone to give up an envelope. I had the marriage certificate delivered to Brady’s office with instructions to be placed in his safe. So when your sweet, not-your-husband comes seeking answers as to why his friend kidnapped his wife, killed her in the heat of passion, and then killed himself, but couldn’t access your estate because you two weren’t legally married, he’ll know the depths of Brady’s obsession with you.”

  “You, crazy bitch,” I jumped up. Eric put his hand out to stop me.

  Aida was right, playing with me before actually killing me was more painful than I had imagined. If I were to die, I’d prefer my husband thought I remained his wife, and not just a woman who kept his shares. The shares would return to him upon my death, but the process would take longer because I had no Will and Testament. Now, my poor father would have to sort out my mess.

  “Tear her dress from her,” Aida ordered Eric, and he turned to face her; no doubt emulating the horror I was feeling. We shouted out our objections. I could feel Eric’s hand tense up as he held me around my waist.

  “Why?” Eric questioned.

  “You can’t have a fully dressed body when he’s supposed to be fucking her, remember the plan?” Aida replied. Eric’s lips were pursued and his jaw flexed, but he nodded in agreement.

  Brady was restrained by Tony, brandishing the gun behind his ear, which must be an efficient spot to instantly kill a human being. Brady closed his eyes and turned away from me, accepting death as our fate. Eric’s hands went to the bodice of the dress, ripping it from the thin straps, falling down my torso. The lacy bra would leave nothing to the imagination. The torn fabric wouldn’t go down my hips.

  “On the bed,” Aida ordered me once again. With Eric’s push, I fell backwards onto the bed. I looked pleadingly into his eyes, and I thought I saw a trace of regret. “Bring him to her,” she ordered Tony, who followed through without hesitation. Brady didn’t look directly at me. I recalled recent times when he looked at me lasciviously, and I was disgusted with him. In this moment, he looked like the seventeen-year-old boy who would catch glimpses of my emerging womanly figure, and would sheepishly turn away. I realized he never wanted to make me a sexual object. He rejected it physically, but emotionally he wanted a connection.

  “Get on her,” She ordered Brady, who stood rigid, refusing to do her bidding. Seeing him tremble ever so slightly, so conflicted and incapable of hurting me, I knew I had to counter Aida’s commands. I reached out for him with both hands, permitting him to do as she ordered. His lip quivered in anger, sadness, and maybe arousal. I dared not look lower than his chest. When Tony pushed him forth, Brady entered the bed. He held himself up over me, kneeling beside me. I moved over to give him room. “Not beside her. On. Her!” She instructed.

  Whispering, “sorry,” Brady climbed over me, holding himself up on his forearms. I numbed my mind to reduce the sensation of his hard body unintentionally on my own. His muscular legs pressed against mine, and rose off my body whenever we touched, like the recoil of fingers from a hot surface. I could feel him quiver as he kept his torso off mine. Sensing he was as repulsed by this as I was made it more palatable.

  Brady brought his head to my neck, facing away from them. He kissed under my ear where Matt knew to arouse me. He probably learned it from the sex video he blackmailed me with.

  “I need you to put your hands over your head,” Brady whispered. “There is a silent panic button on this side of the headboard,” he informed. Brady pulled my arm up against the ornate semicircle headboard. I brought my hands up in surrender and audibly gasped when he lay over me to kiss my other side.

  “Does she feel as you’d imagined?” Aida asked through gritted teeth. I was sure she was titillated by ordering him to seduce me before killing me.

  My fingers searched for the button. As soon as I found it, I pressed hard, leaving my finger there for a few beats before Brady pulled my arms down. My mind was so focused on pressing the panic button, I hadn’t noticed when he changed his position to straddle me. He held my wrists together in his hand. Brady’s face was a shifting veil of desire and regret.

  “Choke her like you liked to choke me. I know it gets you off,” I heard Aida say. I looked up at him. Seeing his internal battle of trying to do what she commanded, his deepest sexual desires stimulated, and his compulsion to keep me safe, I pulled my arms toward my neck. His free hand traveled the length. Brady grunted, possibly to unleash some of the pent up emotions he restrained. He resisted me by pulling away.

  When I finally caught his gaze, I mouthed, “Do it!” He was pale and sweaty. Within a second, his manly hands, which were once so gentle with me, wrapped around my neck. His thumb caressing my jugular vein, and he licked his lips, but he didn’t attempt to squeeze.

  Brady pulled away and turned to Aida, “Just shoot me. I’m not doing that to her.” He removed himself from above my body, and sat beside me on the bed. He was stalling. Whatever alert the panic button signaled to the receiver, Brady prevaricated until help arrived. He stood up off the bed to the opposite side. Tony pointed the gun at Brady. I thought his heroism was honorable, but stupid. I inclined to sit up.

  “Why do you want me to strangle her? Tell one of your goons to do it.”

  “It would be an obvious thing to do, but I’d prefer to leave no doubt of your murder-suicide. It’s all about plausibility. She needs to die at your hands, literally,” she responded. “I want whoever assesses the sce
ne to confirm the sequence of events; you killed her, matching the size of your fingers and prints to those around her neck. We’re taking careful measure to eliminate our footprint here, so if you’ll . . .”

  “What makes you think I won’t go down without a fight?” Brady countered, getting off the bed.

  “Why aren’t you fighting now? I mean you can come after Tony or Eric, or even me, but you haven’t. Why?” She asked. He didn’t answer. “Because you’re invoking your right to self-preservation, stalling and avoiding the inevitable. You two will die tonight, at your hands, Brady.”

  “No. I’m not going to kill her, and I won’t die today,” he warned. I saw Tony raise his gun. Aida groaned, moving toward me. Brady called out to me, extending his hand, and I nimbly jumped out of bed and stood next to him. He pulled me close, inching us backwards. I slipped out of my sandals, which were causing me to slide around on the smooth tile flooring.

  Swiftly, Brady pulled me backwards as I watched the three of them rush toward us. Brady moved us sideways, avoiding the bullet released from the chamber of Tony’s gun with a loud bang. Two loud pops, piercingly hit the wall, and the dusty mist of the plaster sprayed us as we ran into what I thought was a walk in closet. I lost count of the shots fired. Brady pulled me into another room, pressing a button on the wall, and a large door slammed shut, enclosing us.

  The room was slightly larger than my former studio apartment. I looked around the dimly lit space. We couldn’t hear any sounds except our jagged breathing. The room felt vacuum sealed.

  “Are you hit?” Brady repeated over and over as I went over the edge of sanity into a complete freak out. I shook as my heart felt compressed. I gasped for air.

  “Relax,” he repeated as he looked me over to ensure I wasn’t hit by a stray bullet. He held my head in his hands and kissed my forehead as I calmed down. Countless minutes passed before I regained my faculties.