Guard Me: A Mafia Romance (The Rossi Crime Family Book 4)

by J. L. Beck

  God, why did I have to open my mouth?

  He takes off the condom tossing it into a waste bin near the bed. Rivlets of blood smear against the latex and I know if I look down I’ll find the evidence of my lost virginity, and at the hands of a man I know I truly want, that I truly love.

  “You’re a liar Violet, and you’re a bad one at that. I deal with liars every single fucking day. The worst kind of men you can think of. Don’t lie to me.”

  His voice is stern and I feel like I’ve ruined this entire moment. Maybe even more than this moment. What if I’ve ruined everything? What if he wont help me after this. He could leave me in the cell for the next eight days and let me go to the auction. There wouldn’t be anything I could do on my own to get out of here. Without him I’m completely alone and helpless. I wish I could take the words back.

  “Feel however you want to feel but it changes nothing. Nothing we’ve done tonight changes anything. It was just sex Violet. You asked me to do this for you and I did. I gave you what you wanted, and now this...” Ivan seems to grow more agitated as he slips into the bathroom. I hear the water turn on and a second later he appears in the doorway a washcloth in his hand, his eyes bleeding into mine.

  “I didn’t mean it, Ivan. I swear I didn’t.” I reply hoarsely, as he walks over to the bed and kneels down on it. I hiss at the contact of the warm washcloth against my overly sensitive pussy as he gently wipes away the blood and evidence of our sex.

  “Stop...” He orders, and I feel the fresh tears slipping down my cheeks. I’m an emotional mess right now wearing every single feeling I have on my face. He only looks at my face briefly before he get up and pulls on a pair of boxers. I watch him though my tears as he gets out some clean boxers and a shirt, tossing them in my direction.

  “Get dressed.” Panic clings to me. Is he really going to send me back downstairs?

  “Please Ivan, don’t do this. I’m sorry. Please… don’t bring me back downstairs. I’ll sleep on the floor if you don’t want me in the bed, just please don’t make me sleep in the cell again…” I might be pathetic sounding right now but I don’t care. The fear of being locked in that cell for the next week is so overwhelming that I would do about anything to avoid it.

  He turns back to face me and I try to blink the tears away, but all it does is makes some more roll down my face. His gaze softens, his anger level dropping from a nine to a seven.

  “Just put some clothes on and lie down,” he orders before walking out, slamming the door behind him, leaving me cold, and alone.

  I sob into the sheets, pain radiating out of my chest. I want this to be a lasting memory but all I can think about is forgetting this night, forgetting how I ruined us.

  Chapter Eleven

  Ivan

  Three fucking words. Three little words strung together. To some they meant nothing but to me they left me with a hole in my fucking chest. It wasn’t the words that hurt me, it was the meaning behind them, and what they meant to her that bothered me.

  I grit my teeth, and clench my fists tightly, the muscles in my forearm burning with a need to destroy. Why did she have to say those three fucking words? I let the tension inside my body spiral out of control as I grab the bottle of whiskey from the counter and pop the cork off. With no care for a glass, I take a huge gulp straight from the bottle

  . The amber liquid burns in the back of my throat, and I relish in that burn as it settles into my stomach, warmth pools and spreads out across my insides, and I take another drink, and then another drowning my pain, my past, and a future I’ll never have in the warmth of whiskey.

  It would be so much fucking easier if she saw me as a monster, as the fucking man giving her a death sentence, but I’m not even doing that. I’m saving her, setting her fucking free, and when all this is over I’ll be nothing but a black stain on her heart, a dark memory from her past that she doesn’t want to remember. My grip on the bottle of whiskey is hard enough to shatter it, and I swallow around the bile that rises in my throat at the memory of losing my sister.

  I saved Violet to make up for failing my sister, but I didn’t really save Violet. I didn’t fucking save anybody...she loves me...she fucking loves me, and that’s not saving her, that condemning her to a life she’ll never be able to escape from. Everyone who ever loved me is either dead or wishes me dead. I destroy anyone who gets close to me and I’ll destroy her too if I don’t let her go.

  “Roman…” I called out for my brother but he wouldn’t look at me.

  He hated me as much as I hated myself.

  “You killed her Ivan. You killed our sister.” There were tears in his blue eyes and I swallowed around the guilt and shame that coated my insides.

  “I didn’t mean for her to get hurt.” I pleaded with him to understand, for anyone to understand. I was so alone, so broken, that parts of me wished it was I that had been struck by a car that day instead of Mira. I deserved to die, not her...she was young, beautiful, she had a long life ahead of her.

  “All you had to do was be a brother.” Roman shoved against my chest, and I let him. He pushed me, his fists slamming against my chest. We were both the same size now, and if I wanted to I could probably stop him, but I didn’t want too.

  I wanted to die. I wanted him to hurt me.

  “All you had to do was watch her, and you didn’t. You let her die, you killed her…” Each word came with a punch, and I didn’t even realize I was crying until the tears started to fall.

  “It should have been me Roman. It should have been.” At my words the punches stopped and I blinked away the tears staining my vision. Roman looked me straight in the eyes, my little brother, the last person I had in my life to protect.

  “I hate you Ivan. I hate you.” He snarled, and I knew he meant every single word he said.

  When I come too, there are tears on my cheeks and my entire body shakes with anger and sadness. It’s been years since I cried, since I fucking let the feelings unravel inside me, but vowing to help Violet, seeing her struggle and be attacked, it brought those feelings closer to the surface.

  “Fuck her…” I growl, chugging the rest of the whiskey in the bottle. I’m angry...so fucking angry. I’m on the verge of exploding and even through the fucking haze I know I still want her, even when I shouldn’t I still want her. I want her to love me, because I want to love her too...and maybe in some way I fucking do.

  I don’t know. I let the whiskey burn me from the inside out, drowning out my emotions, every single fucking thought fades as the alcohol takes over my body. I throw the bottle against the wall, listening as it hits, shattering into a million pieces in various directions. I grab the next thing I see and toss it against the wall…

  I didn’t save her...I didn’t… Like a tornado ripping through a small town I destroy my apartment. Nothing matters. Nothing. I grab a bottle of vodka and start chugging it. It burns my insides, and makes my eyes water but I don’t care. I just don’t want to feel anymore.

  A gasp fills the air… and I know who that gasp belongs too…

  “Go the fuck away” I growl, keeping my back to her. I don’t want to see her face, the pain in her eyes. She broke us. Ruined this fragile moment, a moment I gave her because she begged for it. I should have known better. I should have kept my dick in my pants.

  “Ivan.” Her voice cracks something inside of me, and I hear her small foot falls moving behind me. What the fuck is she doing? Why isn’t she listening to me?

  I whirl around, anger pouring out of me, like lava erupting from a volcano. She’s picking up all the shit I’ve broken, the shit I wanted to break. She’s trying to fix things that can’t be fixed and for some reason that makes me angrier.

  “I said to fucking go away,” I stumble over to her, feeling pieces of glass imbed into the bottoms of my feet. I feel the skin slice, but I don’t feel pain. I feel nothing. I am numb. Broken.

  Violet gazes up at me, her bottom lip trembling, fear taking root in those deep blues of hers. I ca
n’t image what she’s thinking right now, how she’s feeling?

  I tell myself not to care when I grab her by the arm and force her to stand, failing to notice the broken glass shards in her hand. My movements jostle her, and when I hear the cry of pain fall from her lips I stop, releasing her instantly. Our eyes meet and we both look down to her hand at the same time where a piece of glass has pierced through her skin and is now sticking out.

  “Shit…” Within half a second I am completely sober. At the sight of her blood, anger is replaced with worry. I watch the blood start to drip from the cut, sliding down her wrist, and onto the hardwood floor beneath our feet.

  “I’m sorry.” She barely gets out, her eyes misting over. Fuck she’s going to cry again. I’m such an asshole. She just wanted to help and now she is sorry because I hurt her.

  “No kitten, don’t be sorry.” Pick her up by the hips, I walk her to the kitchen. Shoving shit out of the way as I go, I sit her on the kitchen counter. Her fragile body starts to shake and I know I have to do something. “I’m going to get the first aid kit. Please don’t move.”

  I walk over the broken glass, not caring about anything but Violet in this moment. I walk into the bedroom, and then bathroom, grabbing the first aid kit. I jog back into the kitchen and see her body swaying her head half against the cupboard behind her.

  “You still with me Kitten?”

  “Yes.” She hisses, her eyes going wide as they drop back down to her hand. Her face is pale, and she looks like she might throw up.“Why did you destroy your house?” I want to laugh, even when she’s hurting she’s still trying to figure me out, trying to piece me back together.

  “Me destroying my house is the least of your worries right now. I need to get this glass out of your hand and stitch you up.” I’m focused, determined. I’ve cleaned many wounds in my days. I’m given many stitches, hell I’ve stitched up myself but I’ve never done this for a woman before.

  “Stitches?” She starts shaking her head, “No...no...I don’t like needles. I think it will be fine. I don’t need stitches.”

  “Shhh kitten...calm down. It’s going to be okay…” I cup her by the cheek, and look deep into her eyes. She’s terrified, worried out of her damn mind, and I have to make her feel protected, secure. “Breathe, just breathe with me and it’ll be fine.” When she nods her head, to let me know she hears me I release her and open the kit, pulling out everything I need.

  “I’m going to pull out the glass and then I’m going to clean the cut. I want to see how deep it is before I start sewing you up. This isn’t going to be like pulling a bandaid off. I can’t do this fast and quick or I might widen the cut.” I hold onto her wrist with a death grip, afraid she may jump off the counter and run away and with a steady hand I start to pull out the glass, slowly, very slowly.

  “Close your eyes if you need to, it might help.” I glance up at her and watch her close her eyes Her tiny chest heaves beneath my shirt, and her skin is still a snowy white.

  “Why did you do it?” She whispers.

  “You’re doing good kitten.” I pull the glass out all the way and toss the shard into the sink, before I start to clean it with hydrogen peroxide. Ignoring her question.

  “Talk to me Ivan.” She cries, gripping onto my hand with her uninjured one. I grit my teeth, not wanting to answer her, but knowing if I don’t she may just flip out more.

  “I was angry, and I still am.” I answer as I finish cleaning the cut, and then inspect the wound. It’s not too deep...thank goodness.

  “Why are you angry? Are you mad at me?” She hisses, and her gaze widens when I release her hand and get the needle and thread ready.

  “More myself than you kitten.” I watch her visibly swallow, “This is going to hurt...and I wish I had something to give you for the pain but I don’t unless you want me to go get those pills from the cell. She shakes her head without thinking about it. “Just stay with me, and it’ll be over soon, okay?”

  “I’m sorry Ivan.” She apologizes yet-a-fucking-gain and I have half the mind to tell her to shut up again. I’m tired of her being sorry, of apologizing for things that aren’t her fault.

  Instead I start stitching her up, the needle pierces her creamy skin, and I realize then that she’ll always have a stark reminder of me on her hand...a scar to remind her of the kind of mistake I was. Words land on the tip of my tongue, and I start speaking without thinking.

  “I’m not who you think I am Violet. Yes, I’m helping you, but I’ve hurt hundreds before you. A lot of people, a lot women, died because of me and some I’ve even killed myself. Me saving you doesn’t change the things I’ve done. One good thing for all the bad doesn’t make the bad disappear. It doesn’t make me a good man for doing right by you.”

  “I know you aren’t good, but you’re good enough for me. There’s light inside of you, and it’s begging to be set free, it’s begging to shine bright. Your like a firefly trapped in a jar and I want to set you free Ivan.” My jaw tightens and I steady my shaking hand as I pierce her skin once more.

  “Stop trying to see the good in me, the good in everyone around you. We’re all evil in some way shape or form. God didn’t make us without flaws.”

  “What’s my flaw then?”

  “Loving me.”

  She quiets at my response, and I finish sewing her up. I clean up the blood off the side of her hand, and toss all the blood gauze into the trash. When I wrap the hand lightly, I can feel Violet’s eyes on me, burning a hole through my body. I silently clean up all the glass off the floor, sweeping it up and tossing it into the trash.

  My head starts to pound directly behind my eyes.

  “Let’s go to bed.” I order, picking her up from the counter by her hips, before placing her back down on her feet. She holds her hand to her chest, and looks up at me, with a sadness in lingering in her depths.

  “Will you hold me?” The hopeful tone in her voice crushes me all over again. I press a hand to the small of her back, and usher her forward. Things have changed between us and I’m torn in half by the feelings accompanied with that change. I’m feel like I’m being pulled in two different directions. Part of me wants this, wants her so badly... while the other part despises the thought of it.

  “Yes kitten. I’ll hold you.” She lets me get her into bed and I follow suit settling onto the mattress, pulling a few shards of glass that had embedded themselves into my feet. If Violet notices, she doesn’t say anything, and I’m thankful. I don’t have it in me to argue with her anymore tonight.

  I turn the light off, and pull her into my chest, inhaling her sweet scent into my lungs, wishing that her loving me didn’t change things...that it didn’t change us.

  “Good night Ivan.” She murmurs into my chest.

  “Good night Kitten.” I exhale, letting every inch of her surround me. She’s the one thing I want, but the only thing completely out of reach.

  ***

  “Ivan...” I hear someone calling my name, my body shakes. I brush the hand away, rolling over. It’s too early to get up.

  “Ivan. It’s past breakfast time.” Violet’s soft voice caresses my ears, pulling me out of my stupor. My eyes fly open and meet her worried ones. Her face is set in a frown and I know something is wrong.

  “What?”

  “It’s past breakfast time. You should have brought me down an hour ago.”

  “Fuck!” I get up from the bed and she follows suit. I get us some clothes from the dresser and we both start to get dressed.

  I don’t even have my boxers all the way pulled up when a loud knock on the front door has us both frozen in place. I glance over at Violet over my shoulder who looks scared out of her mind.

  “Don’t worry, just… get naked and lay on the bed face down.” She gives me a confused look, but I don’t have time to explain.

  “Just do it kitten, trust me.”

  I close the bedroom door behind me hoping that she fucking listens. If someone comes in here looking f
or her, I can always say I have her up here for my entertainment but it won't look real if she doesn't do what I fucking telling her to. Another loud knock echoes through my apartment before I can make it to the door.

  “Hold on,” I growl and pull the door open to find Gabe on the other side. Fuck. He must be here to tell me Violet is gone. It takes a lot out of me to keep an emotionless mask in place when I have the burning fear that someone is going to take Violet from me.

  “Sorry to wake you boss, but I guess you didn’t get Rossi message?”

  “What message?”

  “He is on his way here and he called an emergency meeting. He is going to expect you to be in the conference room when he gets here.”

  “Shit, okay... I’ll be down in a min.” I shut the door quickly and hold my ear to it, listening to

  Gabes footsteps disappear down the hall.

  When I get back to the bedroom and find Violet naked, sprawled out on the bed, her head down and ass up in the air my cock goes from limp to hard in zero point nine second. I have this primal urge to peel my boxers off and sink deep inside her. I step closer to the bed and notice she is shaking, that alone takes the edge off the need to fuck her right now, dousing my hardened cock with ice water.

  “It’s okay kitten. He wasn’t here because of you, but I do need to get you back downstair quickly.” She flips over, her soft sunshine blonde hair clings to parts of her face and when I catch sight of her perfectly shaped tits, flat stomach, and the beautiful valley between her legs I almost forget what I just said and lose myself in her.

  Tonight, I can have her again tonight. I remind myself. But right now I need to get her to the cell and find out what the fuck Rossi wants. He hardly ever comes here, so some bad shit must have gone down for him to show up like this and call a meeting out of the blue.

  For a moment I think it might be because Yulies disappearance, but that’s unlikely. That would be something to deal with quietly not call a fucking meeting over.