Wordless

by Alyne Roberts

  “What do you want?” he practically growls at me.

  I notice the shake in his hands as he runs them through his hair. The muscle in his jaw flexes. I can feel the tension thick around me.

  “Shiloh, I am too close to losing my temper. Leave.”

  I shake my head and step closer. Someone always so sure and steady looks shaken and unstable. Something is wrong. All the possibilities rush my mind. Does he know who I am? Did someone die? Did he find the dancer he’s been searching for?

  I take my pen and write on my hand.

  What’s wrong?

  “Shiloh.” It’s a warning. My last warning.

  Another step closer. Pierce moves around the desk and grabs my shoulders. My feet won’t move to take me away from this room. They are foolishly rooted to polished wood floor.

  “Too curious for your own damn good.”

  His eyes drop from mine and run down my body. My heart races under his gaze. I’m wearing one of the dresses he brought back from Miami. The neckline plunges low and the skirt is cut high. I suddenly feel exposed.

  “You want to know what’s wrong? Our inside men at Border Patrol were flipped. They don’t work for us anymore.”

  He’s furious and for good reason. I know how important your contacts are in this business. It’s another casualty in the war against my family.

  “We have ships arriving that won’t be able to just push past inspection.”

  Pierce’s chest rises and falls rapidly. He’s humming with tension and hate. He glares down at me like I am the source of all his problems.

  “You should have left when you had the chance.”

  His hand wraps around my throat so fast I don’t see it coming. Then he’s pushing me backward, and I hit the wall with a soft thud. His body presses against mine so I can’t move.

  “You shouldn’t have come in here, little girl. I’m so pissed only a good fight or a good fuck will help me.”

  I swallow and he feels it against his palm. He can feel my hammering pulse in my neck. Our faces are only an inch apart. His hot breath tickles my lips. Rage and electricity swirls around us. It’s dangerous but I’m not afraid. No, I’m fascinated. I think I want to see him lose control.

  “Is that what you want, little girl? You want me to take it out on you?”

  I don’t answer. I can’t when his lips crash with mine, stealing my breath. The kiss is hard and pushes my head against the wall. His large hands grip my hips, his fingertips digging into my thighs. My nails dig into his pecs as they flex under my fingertips. The kiss isn’t sweet or tender. It’s nothing like the stolen kisses I had with Cyrus. This kiss is painful and taken from me like it’s owed to him. Perhaps it is.

  His knee pushes between my legs, forcing them apart. It leaves me no choice but to straddle his thigh. In this position I feel him hard against me. A hot thrill shoots through me. I feel like I’m being completely consumed by his heat. We are going up in flames.

  Pierce breaks the kiss and I gasp for air. His hips grind into me as he searches my face. I wonder what he sees. I must have flushed cheeks, wet lips, and wide eyes.

  With sure and quick moves, Pierce grabs my ass and lifts me. I clutch his shoulders as we spin so I don’t fall. He moves us toward the desk like I’m weightless in his arms. A loud clatter rings in my ears and all the items on the desk are swept away and crash to the floor.

  My ass hits the cold wood of his desk. Pierce’s lips are against mine again as he pushes me to my back with a hand on my throat. His tongue pushes past my lips, taking and tasting. His kisses are powerful and strong just like he is.

  Pierce stands between my spread legs at the edge of his desk. I look down at the way he looks between my thighs with my dress bunched up around my waist. My simple white panties are on full display for a man I should fear. My thighs instinctually squeeze around him as his free hand moves up my hip, over my rib cage, and grazes the side of my breast. My body trembles, and he hums with satisfaction.

  “I wish I could hear you moan,” he whispers, licking the shell of my ear. “I wish I could hear you scream my name.”

  I shiver as his words dance over my skin. The only sound I can make is heavy and loud breathing. My quiet sounds fill the room as Pierce moves his lips down my neck and over my collar bone.

  I jolt when his hand moves up my thigh, closer to where the thin fabric of my panties covers me.

  “It was stupid to come in here, Shiloh,” he says. His mouth ghosts over the tops of my breast. “I could break you in half with everything I’m holding back.”

  I should come to my senses and run. I need to push him off me and get out of this room. But I don’t. When his fingers skate over the damp fabric of my panties, I arch my back off the desk with a quiet gasp. My thoughts are lost under a blanket of sensations.

  “Have you been properly fucked before?” he asks as his fingers press harder. “So hard that you feel it next the day?”

  I can’t answer him. I can barely breathe as all the emotions and sensations assault me at once. My body is alive, firing off at every cell. I am shaking with nerves and excitement. Pierce bites my shoulder, then he licks the teeth marks.

  “Should I send you back after I fuck you? Tainted and marked by a Gallo?”

  My blood runs cold.

  “Would they take you back then? After I’ve been so deep inside of you?”

  I look down at Pierce. His eyes are dark and wild. There’s a hurricane of lust and fury in the darkness. I can’t tell if he hates me or wants me. Maybe it’s both. Maybe he hates me because he wants me.

  “Sir.”

  Both our heads snap toward the door. Hans stands in the doorway, arms crossed and face void. He looks at Pierce and shakes his head once.

  “Get the fuck out,” Pierce growls.

  Hans doesn’t budge. “Don’t be stupid.”

  The men stare at each other, glaring. It’s a battle of wills. It’s tense and I no longer want to be here. That blinded want is quickly fading. My instincts are screaming louder. I start to scoot away from Pierce.

  “Shit,” Pierce mutters as he slowly moves off me. He avoids my eyes as he backs away.

  “Get out,” he grunts. I know he’s talking to me now, not Hans.

  My hands shake as I pull down the skirt and fix the top so I’m properly covered. Pierce makes no move to stop me as I climb off the desk and step around the mess on the floor.

  Both men silently watch me leave the room, head down and face red. I walk as fast as I can until I reach my bedroom.

  My head is spinning. What the hell just happened?

  chapter thirteen

  pierce

  MY KNUCKLES HURT when I knock on Shiloh’s door. After what happened in the office, I pounded the punching bag for hours before I felt in control again. I kept punching until I was too exhausted to go upstairs and seek Shiloh. The maddening fury transformed into something different. Something that will drive me to win this war.

  I let myself inside when she doesn’t come to the door. I haven’t seen her since yesterday when she fled my office. I’ve kept my distance because no matter how much I know it’s a bad idea, a part of me wants to finish what we started.

  Shiloh is still a mystery, and I don’t trust her yet. I kept her around because I thought she would be useful in this war against the Blackards. Fucking her would only add more complications.

  I can’t give her love or promise we will last. I can’t give that to anyone. I could send her home tomorrow, or hold her forever. There’s no guarantee that we won’t end up enemies at the end of all this. There’s no promise she won’t betray me. She’s either a pawn or an ally.

  I hear the shower running in the bathroom. Her phone sits on the bed, dead. I never gave her that charger yesterday. The doors are open to the balcony, letting in the cool breeze.

  When the water shuts off, I turn to watch her come out of the bathroom, wrapped in a white towel. Her wet hair drips onto the floor and her skin is pink from t
he heat. Water still clings to her body like dew.

  She jumps when she notices me sitting on the bed with her phone in my hand.

  “Get dressed and pack,” I tell her.

  She clutches the towel tighter but makes no move to do as I asked.

  “You’re coming to Miami with me. Today,” I tell her.

  Her shoulders relax with relief when she realizes I am not taking her home. She goes to the closet and starts to shove things into the suitcase we gave her filled with new clothes. In the bathroom, she grabs anything else she will need. She hangs a gray and pink striped dress on the dresser.

  “Get dressed,” I tell her.

  Shiloh glares at me then nods toward the door. I shake my head. I’m not leaving this room. She won’t leave my side for the next few days. I stare back, challenging her.

  “Go on,” I taunt. “Nothing I haven’t seen before.”

  Her blue eyes sparkle with mischief, and she takes a step back. In slow motion, as if she’s giving me a chance to change my mind, she drops the towel.

  Fully naked, she calmly dresses in front of me. I clench my fists near my side so I won’t reach for her. Her pale skin is now free of the bruises. Only tiny freckles dot her flawless body. I remember how soft she felt under my hands.

  She’s testing me. Dangerous game to play.

  Shiloh won this round. I should have given her privacy. She knows it too, because once dressed she turns and smirks. I keep my face neutral, not wanting her to know the little power she has over me.

  “Let’s go.”

  I hear the plane approaching in the distance. I stand to grab her bags and her phone. Hans meets us at the bottom of the stairs where I hand him the luggage. I take Shiloh by the wrist and lead her to the air strip as the plane lands.

  “Don’t leave my side unless I tell you to,” I say in her ear so she can hear me over the loud engine. “We don’t know who we can trust.”

  She nods and I help her climb into the plane. I notice the slight tremble in her hands as I escort her to a seat. Her wide eyes look up at me, full of apprehension.

  “You were unconscious on the way here that first time. Have you flown before that?”

  She shakes her head.

  “It’s not so bad,” I lie. The small plane is bumpy and loud. The worst kind to warm up to flying. It’s a cloudy day and the flight will be full of turbulence.

  Hans boards the plane and the pilot closes the door. Once we start takeoff, Shiloh grabs my hand and squeezes hard. I look down at our interlocked fingers and try to figure out where all the strength came from.

  I let her torture my hand for the flight. Not because I want to be nice, but because I’m interested in how strong she is. She hides her distress well on the outside. Only I can feel the slight shaking and hear her heavy breathing.

  There are rumors I’m either injured or hiding. My dad insisted I come back to the States. I need to show my face and show everyone our family still stands strong. I won’t let anyone think I’m hiding out and licking my wounds.

  I need to establish new connections in the ports. I have millions of dollars waiting to come in. Every day we don’t move product is another day that someone else can. The East is ours.

  The plan is simple: meet a few people, pay some people off, flaunt Shiloh in public. Shouldn’t take long for people to hear about the girl that Pierce Gallo has on his arm. Soon, whoever she is hiding from will know where she is.

  We land in Miami and step off the plane into the humid Florida air. Shiloh takes in the busy airport as I drag her to the waiting car. She looks at everything like it’s the first time she’s ever seen it. Her eyes go wide when a jet passes us on the way for takeoff.

  Once in the car and I have my hand free, I plug in our phones and hand Shiloh a purse.

  “Inside is an ID. Your name is Shiloh Moore. Also some cash and credit cards,” I explain to her.

  She takes the purse and nods, looking more settled than on the plane. She watches out the window as the city flies by, catching glimpses of the ocean when she can.

  We pull into the underground parking of my building. The inside of the car goes dark, only a faint glow from the few lights that line the cement walls.

  “Give us a second,” I say to Hans after we park. He exits without question.

  I feel Shiloh watching me in the silence. She shifts slightly but tries to hide it. Always so easy to read and always aware of that fact. The girl is getting better at hiding herself.

  I turn and grab her chin. She gasps as my fingers firmly press into her delicate face. I wait until her wide blue eyes meet mine.

  “You aren’t going to try to run. You want to go home you tell me right now because once we get out of this car, the show is on. All eyes on us. You commit or quit.”

  Shiloh swallows and nods.

  “Good girl. One more thing,” I say, watching her pupils dilate. “Next time I tell you to stay away, stay away.”

  She nods again, her eyes darting to my lips for a second. I almost lean in and let her taste them but remember I wouldn’t stop. Instead, I push open my door and get out of the car.

  We take the elevator up to the top floor. The doors slide open to reveal the penthouse. Shiloh walks straight to the wall of glass overlooking the skyline and ocean. She presses a small hand to glass, taking in the lights and sunset on the horizon.

  I find my father and Hans waiting with Luca in the living room. They sit on the black couch, glasses of bourbon already in hand.

  “Cousin,” Luca says when I join them. “You brought your pet, I see.”

  “They need to know I have her,” I remind him. Luca rolls his eyes, convinced I won’t trade her if the time comes.

  Hans hands me a folder. I flip through the content quickly, scanning the photos documents.

  “Harold is the Chief Patrol Agent for the Miami sector of Border Patrol. They may have taken our foot men, so we go above them. If we control the top, we control those below him,” Hans explains.

  “What do we have on him?” I ask, staring at the photo of older man with a beautiful young wife and daughter.

  “When he was a US Marshall, we were able to buy him. Made evidence disappear. He had a great deal of gambling debt then.”

  “And now?” I ask.

  “He doesn’t lose when he gambles. Harold has become a very greedy man, though. With enough cash, I think he will flip.”

  I sigh and rub my face. I glance over to the windows where Shiloh is now taking photos with her phone.

  “I wish we had more leverage,” I mutter.

  A man is easier to buy when he has something on the line. His reputation, his money, or even his family. Sometimes money just isn’t enough.

  “All we’ve got so far, and we can’t afford to keep turning our ships around,” the boss says.

  I read the file we have on Harold. His new wife is twenty years younger at thirty-five. He went to France and came back newly married to a foreign model. With her came a sixteen-year-old daughter that they spoil.

  “Harold and his wife will be your guests tomorrow on your boat,” Hans says.

  My father slides a suitcase across the floor toward me. I look inside at the cash and close it. I just hope it’s enough to buy him.

  “I’m heading to Vegas in the morning,” Luca says. “I have another lead on your nurse.”

  I nod and look over at Shiloh again. Our eyes connect telling me she heard Luca. For once, I can’t read how she’s feeling. It’s like she’s put up a wall between us.

  I don’t like it.

  We discuss the business for a little longer before my father and Luca stand to leave. Hans sees them out, and I’m alone with Shiloh.

  She looks out the window like a caged bird. So beautiful and trapped.

  “Go change,” I tell her. “We are going out.”

  The smile that spreads across her face makes my chest hurt.

  chapter fourteen

  shiloh

  I TEETER ON my
high heels in the elevator. Everything is modern and sleek in the building. The penthouse is mostly glass and steel. Cold and hard. I miss the island home.

  I look at Pierce’s reflection in the elevator doors. In the small space I can smell his shampoo from the shower he just took. He looks confident with his gray shirt unbuttoned on the top and dark jeans.

  I stand next to him in a short blue dress that hangs off one shoulder. My hair is pulled into a high ponytail. My skin is pink from the sun.

  A limo waits for us in front of the building. Pierce opens the door for me, and I slide across the leather. When Pierce gets in, he sits so close our thighs are touching. I concentrate at that point of contact as we make our way through downtown Miami.

  I’m buzzing with excitement when we pull up to a club with a long line. The music pours out on to the sidewalk. The driver lets us out, and we walk right past the bouncer.

  “Mr. Gallo,” a woman says as she greets us just inside the door. “I can see you to your table in VIP.”

  “No need,” Pierce tells her. He takes my hand and pulls me past the woman.

  We weave through the crowd to the bar where Pierce orders us drinks. Standing at the bar, I remember the first night I saw Pierce. Now I wish I would have approached him that night, when I still had a voice.

  Blue lights flash over the sea of bodies. The bar looks to be made of coral and the wall behind it is an aquarium full of colorful fish that stretches the length of the room. From the ceiling, blue crystals hang. It looks like we are underwater.

  Pierce hands me a shot glass with a candy fish floating in the blue liquor. I follow his lead and throw back the shot at the same time as he does, chewing on the gummy fish to soothe the burn that runs down my throat.

  “You look like you could use a night out,” Pierce yells in my ear over the pounding music. “I get the feeling you didn’t get out much.”