Wordless

by Alyne Roberts

  I want to look away, but I can’t.

  “I should force you on that plane,” he mumbles. “Why would you want to stay with me?”

  I smile because I find it funny he doesn’t see what I see. I see someone strong and honorable.

  “I’m a criminal, a killer, a liar.”

  A protector, a businessman, and a fighter.

  He doesn’t understand I grew up under the cover of criminals and killers. I spied on the best of secret deals and conspiracies. I lived with the most dangerous of men.

  Pierce Gallo doesn’t scare me. A life without him is what I fear.

  “You might not be as smart as I thought you were,” Pierce says with humor in his voice.

  I smile, knowing I’ve won this battle. That plane will take off without me. I won’t be safe and it doesn’t mean that Cyrus and my dad won’t come for me, but it means that I stay for now.

  One moment at a time.

  My mother once said that to me. I held her hand as she lay in bed, her breathing slow and raspy. The cancer was winning the battle, but she kept a brave face for her girls. I asked her if she was scared of dying. She told me no. Dying is easy, she told me. It’s living that’s the hard part. I squeezed her hand and asked how she kept going, knowing it would end soon.

  One moment at a time. Those moments were worth it.

  “You won’t go?” Pierce asked, drawing my attention back to him.

  I shake my head. I know they are coming for me. I will most likely be a pawn in this war Pierce is waging.

  “Come with me,” Pierce says, grabbing my hand. “I want to show you something very important.”

  I put my hand in his and let him pull me to my feet. I’m barely dressed, in a thin dress that you can probably see through, but the island is empty. I don’t even see any of the staff as we walk through the house.

  My bare feet sink into the warm sand as he leads me away from the house. We trail the shoreline and the waves wash over my feet. We weave around a line of trees lying on their side, roots exposed and weathered from the water and wind.

  “A hurricane a few years ago washed these ashore,” Pierce tells me as we crawl over the driftwood. I run my hands over the smooth wood.

  When we turn the corner, we can no longer see the house. The beach stretches for miles. I pick up shells along the way.

  “You only take the broken ones. Why?”

  I hold up a shell with the tip broken off and missing. I press it to my chest.

  “It’s broken like you?”

  I nod, missing a part of me. My voice. My communication. Only Pierce can hear me.

  We round another piece of driftwood and tucked away along the mangroves is a tiny shack. It looks weathered from tropical storms and blazing sunlight.

  “Do you remember how we got here?”

  I look back and nod. Simple enough to follow the shore line.

  “If the tide is in, you need to go through the water at some parts.”

  I nod as we walk up to the door and Pierce yanks it open. It looks long abandoned and forgotten.

  “It used to be a fishing shack. Now it’s a safe house.” Pierce turns and grips my shoulders. “If something bad happens and you need to run, come here.”

  Pierce takes my hand after I nod and turns the flashlight on his phone so we can see. The shelfs hold gallons of water, which are covered in a thin layer of sand. A flashlight, a blanket, and a walkie-talkie sit above them.

  “You will be safe here until I come for you. Or Hans.”

  I run my fingers over the dagger wedged between two planks of wood.

  “It’s just a precaution. A back-up plan in case something goes down at the house. It’s not exactly a secret where my vacation home is but it’s not very easy to get to. It’s difficult to sneak onto this island without me knowing, but not impossible.”

  Glance at him in concern, images of a late night siege flash in my mind. Something Game of Thrones style. The same things my father built a high wall to protect against.

  Maybe I’m always destined to be locked away, hidden behind brick walls and weapons.

  “If you stay, this is what I can offer you. If I can’t keep you safe, you run. Come here and trust no one but me or Hans. No one.”

  I nod, hoping I will never see this place again or need to hide here. As convinced as Pierce is that I will get hurt, I feel safe with him. More safe than I ever felt back home.

  We both look up when we hear the plane as it takes off and leaves the island. I glance back at the shack, knowing I chose that distressed safe house instead of going home.

  When I can no longer see the white dot in the sky, I look back at Pierce to find him watching me intently.

  “I wish you were on that plane,” he says quietly.

  He steps forward, closing the small distance between us and cups my face.

  “Who the fuck is going to protect you from me?”

  I shrug, not really caring.

  As we trace our path back to the house, I wonder what the consequences will be for not getting on that plane when I had the chance.

  chapter twenty

  pierce

  FROM MY OFFICE I can watch Shiloh wade into the water. The breeze whips around her hair as she eases herself into the ocean. Her fingers reach out to skim the surface. She looks as if she belongs to the sea.

  She belongs on that plane she refused to board. I don’t know if that makes her incredibly stupid or wonderfully stubborn. If I can’t save her, I will leave her tools to save herself. No one knows about the shed besides Hans and me. And now Shiloh.

  My cell rings and a phone number with a Nevada area flashes on the screen. My fists clench and release automatically. There are only a few people that could be.

  “How did you get this number?” I say as a greeting.

  “It wasn’t easy,” someone answers. “I grew impatient of waiting of you to call me.”

  Cyrus Stone. The shadow to Marcus Blackard, and a pain in my ass.

  “You ever think I didn’t call you for a reason. Like perhaps, I didn’t want to talk to you?”

  He laughs in my ear, genuinely amused. It irritates me.

  “I didn’t call just to chat, Pierce. I can assure you, you will be interested in what I have to say.”

  I turn back to the ocean outside just in time to see Shiloh come up from underwater. Her blond hair is slicked back and water drips over her wide smile.

  “That’s doubtful,” I say into the phone, growing even less tolerant of the call.

  “Luca was searching for something, and we found it.”

  His words hit like punches to my chest. I grip the phone so tightly I think I might break it. I keep my eyes on Shiloh, letting her calm me like only she can.

  “You there?” Cyrus asks when I’m silent for too long.

  “I am. What exactly have you found?”

  I hope it’s nothing I actually want.

  “The night Victor shot you, you had help escaping.”

  “You mean the night you sent someone to kill me?”

  “That’s another battle, Pierce.”

  Not to me.

  “You must have cared about that stripper because you sent quite a few men to search for her.”

  “I like to repay favors,” I say lightly, hiding how important my word really is.

  “We have her.”

  I laugh because I can’t believe it’s actually come down to dealing with Cyrus Stone. All the men and money I sent to find the girl ends up at the last place I would ever want to be. Dealing with a Blackard.

  “I’m supposed to believe that?”

  “Of course not,” Cyrus says with a chuckle. “I have proof of course. If you’re willing to make a deal, I have all the proof you need.”

  “What kind of deal?” I ask, even though I know what he’s going to ask for.

  “Simple trade. I want Shiloh.”

  This is what I planned for. I kept the girl, healed her and flaunted her, knowing one day
she would be worth more than any amount of cash. I only kept her around so I could one day help the girl that saved my life.

  “Why?” I ask. “Why do you want Shiloh?”

  “She belongs with me, Pierce. You probably know that, otherwise you would have never took her. She belongs on this side of the country.”

  “I don’t deal with Blackards,” I growl.

  “I don’t expect you to trust us,” he says. “Let’s meet and we can discuss it.”

  In my mind, I’m desperately trying to think of another way. When presented with the chance, I realize I don’t want to give her up. I turn to find Hans in my office and can tell from the somber look on his face, he knows what this phone conversation is about.

  “I’ll call you back to set up a meeting,” I say as calmly as I can manage.

  When I finally hang up the phone, my whole body is tense. My hands are fisted, shaking at my sides. Shiloh plays in the surf, unaware she’s become currency. Just a pawn in a deadly game of chess.

  “Send someone to Vegas. Watch the houses. Follow Marcus and Cyrus. I want to know what the fuck they are up to before I consider anything they have to offer.”

  Hans nods as I push past him and out of my office. I stop just before I push out onto the patio. My first instinct has me searching for Shiloh. It’s like my body knows the comfort and sanity she can bring me just as she had at the funeral. I force myself to step back and turn around.

  Luca died trying to find something that I have the chance to finally have. Days ago it was the most important of tasks. As a man of my word, I needed to find the one who saved my life.

  As I stomp down to the gym, I have to ask myself what I want more: do I let everything Luca did to find her go to waste, all because I want to keep around the silent girl with more secrets than me?

  Was she really worth it?

  How do I find the answer to that question?

  I need release. The fury is building, turning everything inside me black and cold. My fingers ache, but I force the gloves over my hands anyway. I don’t know how much time I spend pounding on the punching bag. I hit it over and over, picturing various people under my hits. Cyrus. Marcus. Even Luca. Sweat pours over my body, but I don’t relent until I hear the faint footsteps behind me. Adjusting my angle, I see Shiloh enter the gym, watching me carefully.

  “You should go,” I warn without pausing. The sound of my fists fill the space between us.

  She doesn’t leave though. I curse and hit harder. I decide she’s incredibly stupid. That is the only explanation as to why she always refuses to walk away from something that will hurt her.

  I try to keep swinging but my whole body seems to know she’s in the room. Every cell wants her to soothe its pain and fire. My fists slow and my punches weaken. I drop my hands in defeat and take a step toward the foolish woman watching me. Her hair is still wet from the beach. I can smell the lotion and salt on her skin from here. She raises her chin, looking defiant and strong. Is she strong enough to handle me at my worst? When I am at my lowest and weakest? Would she take another step if she knew I was going to trade her for a woman I never met?

  “You should go,” I say again. I’m not sure how much longer I can hold myself back.

  She takes another step forward, shaking her head.

  “If you don’t go, I’m going to kiss you, Shiloh.”

  Another step.

  “If I kiss you, I won’t be able to stop. Don’t let me use you like that.”

  Another. Step.

  chapter twenty-one

  shiloh

  HE TELLS ME to leave with his words.

  He begs me to stay with his eyes.

  The tension in the room is so thick it’s hard to breath. Pierce stands before me, hard and glistening with sweat, his fists clenching and releasing at his sides. Maybe I should be scared of him and the anger rolling off of him, but all I can think of is that I want to take it away.

  I take another step toward him. The tile flooring is cold under my bare feet. My heart pounds in my ears with every silent second.

  “Don’t look at me like that,” he whispers.

  I cock my head to the side in question.

  “Like you want me to lose control with you again.”

  The thing about having no voice is that you can’t lie. Words can cover the truth, twist it into something different. I don’t have that weapon at my disposal. All I have are my expressive eyes that only Pierce seems to be able to read so clearly. Can he see how badly I want him? Does he hear the voice in my head telling me to turn and run?

  Philophobia: (n.) fear of emotional attachment; fear of being in, or falling in love.

  “You shouldn’t have stayed, Shiloh.”

  I take another step then another. I don’t stop until I’m standing only inches away from Pierce. I place my hand on his bare chest, feeling his strong heartbeat.

  He grips my hips, keeping me at a distance but wanting to pull me closer. I stare up at him, letting him see the words I can’t speak. The truths I can’t hide.

  “Shiloh.”

  His lips crash into mine. My hands glide up his hard chest, and I bury my fingers into his hair. Our bodies come together, chests pressing against each other. In his thin shorts I feel him hard on my stomach. A low groan comes from inside me.

  “Walk away now or there is no turning back,” he whispers against my lips.

  I pant as his lips ghost over the corner of my mouth, over my jawline, and down my neck. My body shivers as he kisses my hot skin. I claw at the back of his neck and reach between us, palming his hard cock through his shorts.

  Then we are in motion. I don’t even care where he’s taking me as long as he doesn’t let me go. My legs wrap around his waist as he walks us across the room.

  “You drive me fucking crazy,” Pierce growls in my ear.

  He tips me backward until my back hits the cold weight bench underneath me. When Pierce pulls back to look down at me, I want to beg him to come back.

  My dress bunches around my waist, and I’m still wearing bikini bottom. Dark eyes roam over my bare legs. With quick and sure fingers, he unties the strings at the side and throws it to the floor. I shiver under the cool air blasting from the vents. If I had a voice, I would beg him to take me already. My thighs clench together, needing release that only Pierce can give me. I sit up, tearing the dress over my head and reaching for his shorts.

  I shove them down as he reaches behind me and unties my top. I whip it over my head without a single care to see where it lands. I can’t care when Pierce Gallo is standing in front of me completely naked.

  “Beautiful,” he mutters.

  Pierce takes his time running his hands up my legs, across my hips, coasting over my stomach. With each touch, every inch of my body becomes his. He gently pushes me down against the bench as he hovers over me. With one knee between my legs on the bench, he leans forward and takes my lips. Our tongues meet and I whimper with his taste. It’s forbidden, dangerous, and addicting.

  He tears his mouth away and I gasp for air. Pierce bites and licks over my jawline, taking my earlobe between his teeth. I drop my head to the side so he can suck that sensitive spot under my ear.

  Through the haze of lust and need, I see us in the mirror wall. I don’t even recognize the girl underneath Pierce. Her hair is wet and wild, draped over the bench and touching the floor. Her cheeks are red and her lips are swollen. The most startling is her eyes. Bright blue and wide. They gaze back at me, flickering with power and want. She runs her fingers over the defined muscles in Pierce’s arms as he holds himself over her. Her fingernails dig into his skin, drawing out a growl from him.

  “Watch us,” he says in my ear. “Watch how you break me.”

  I would laugh if I could, because he is the one breaking me.

  Pierce sits, straddling the bench. Grabbing my hips, he slides me toward him, letting my legs hand over his thighs. His stare is focused on the tiny space between us. He glides his fingers between
my legs and my back arches off the bench with the sudden burst of pleasure. He slides through my wetness, watching as I twist in agonizing need. I watch us in the mirror as Pierce touches me, pushing his fingers inside me.

  “Only this,” he says in a raspy voice. “Only this can put me back together.”

  Pierce thrusts into me without warning and my mouth opens in a silent scream. I’m so full and the angle of my hips allow him to push deeper than I thought possible. A mixture of pain and pleasure make my vision blurry.

  “Watch us. See why I can’t keep away from you even though I should.”

  His thrusts are deep and slow, and I can’t pull my eyes away from the image in the mirror. Watching them, I don’t see West Coast or East Coast. I don’t see Blackards or Gallos. There’s no money or power. We are naked, covered only in sweat.

  Pierce leans over me and takes a hard nipple in his mouth. I arch into his mouth as his teeth graze the sensitive peaks. My thighs shake around him. I’m so close, I dig my nails into his back, dragging them down his skin.

  “Come for me, baby. Let me feel you on my cock.”

  His dirty words tip me over the edge. With another hard thrust, I shatter into a thousand pieces. Pierce fucks me hard and deep as I clench and spasm around him. Wave after wave of heated pleasure washes over me, taking me under and drowning me.

  Pierce curses before fusing our lips together in a hard kiss. He pulls out of me just in time to come on my stomach, sending hot bursts to land on my skin. I gently bite his lip as he moans through his own orgasm.

  We pant for air with our foreheads pressed together. My legs feel weak and we are both covered in a thin layer of sweat. Pierce gently runs his fingers through my hair before sitting up. Reaching over, he grabs a towel hanging on the barbell.

  He wipes my stomach off before meeting my eyes. When he does, he must find something he didn’t expect to see because he sighs in relief. The tension melts from his body when I smile at him.

  “Come on. Let’s clean you up.”

  Pierce stands and pulls me up with him. I stumble with weak legs. He grabs my hand and leads me through the gym and into a large shower. The walls are lined in stone and shower heads line the wall including one big one above.