by Amy Brent
No, if he really cared for me, he'd want me to be happy. Even if being happy meant that I would be with Deacon. But I knew he'd never, ever let happen. He would see me dead before he ever saw me walk down the aisle with Deacon. I knew that with absolute certainty. I felt it down deep in my bones.
My father sat down at his desk and motioned for me to sit down across from him. He looked at me for a long moment, smiling wide. I was growing uncomfortable beneath his scrutiny and found myself fidgeting with my hands, avoiding his gaze.
“Tony and I have been worried sick about you,” he finally said.
I cringed at the mention of Tony's name. The idea that he was out there looking for me, hoping to find me and bring me home just so I could marry him and give him children – well, that just disgusted me more now than it ever had before. I had no desire to ever see his face again. And even less desire to feel his hands on me for even a second.
“Nico and Pauly said you appeared to be showing feelings for your captor, dear?” my father asked, raising an eyebrow. “I have to tell you, I find that more than a little concerning.”
I knew I couldn't tell him everything. I couldn't shoot my mouth off the way I had with the two men who'd taken me from my hotel room. Not if I wanted him to allow me some freedom – at least freedom enough that I could reach out to Deacon. If I did anything to upset him or raise the red flags in his head, he was going to have somebody watching me every minute of the day. And if that happened, there was no way I was going to be able to get a call out to Deacon – not without being observed and overheard.
Honestly, I should have kept my mouth shut back there in the car. I was kicking myself now for my lack of discretion. But I was so angry and frustrated that it had all just come out before I had a chance to check myself and think it through. I'd let my anger spill over and I'd said too much. I needed to keep my feelings secret for now. I needed to be smart about this. At least until I could get ahold of Deacon and get him a message. Let him know where I was.
“Maybe so,” I said. “Honestly, Deacon Murphy took very good care of me. He was kind and even gentle with me. So, I have no complaints. He was a gentleman, father.”
“He didn't harm you?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. “Are you certain?”
“Not at all,” I said. “He made sure his men didn't lay a hand on me either. Like I said, he was kind and took care of me.”
My dad looked surprised, but then a sinister smile crossed his face. “Probably because he knew I'd make him suffer mightily before I killed him if he hadn't treated you well. He's wiser than I gave him credit for.”
I knew it went deeper than that though. I knew that Deacon wasn't like the other men who lived this life. But no matter what I said, no matter what defense I mounted, I knew my father wouldn't believe me. He hated Deacon and his family with everything in him and would never hear, let alone accept, that they hadn't mistreated me.
“As it stands, I'm just going to kill him quickly,” he said. “Get it over with before he knows what hits him. Consider it a kindness. A thank you for not harming my daughter, of course.”
“Please, father,” I said, choking on my words. “Can't we just let him go? There's no reason to hurt him. No reason to kill him. He's done nothing.”
“Let him go?” my father scoffed. “He stole the heir to the Antonelli family fortune. Kidnapped her. I can't just let something like that go. No, I cannot let that pass. What sort of message would that send? I'm sorry, but kind or not, he needs to pay for his crimes, Emelia. And pay he will.”
I knew that arguing with my father would be futile. It might even make thing worse. I'd need my freedom to warn Deacon. I'd need it so I could escape and join him again. Which is exactly what I planned to do. Because when I did get back to him, we were going to disappear completely. We were going to go somewhere neither his family nor mine would ever find us.
We were going to go somewhere we could live our lives and raise our family. Together.
DEACON
I'd checked out of the hotel room shortly after Emelia had been taken and was driving back to Chicago as fast as I could. I wasn't sure where Emelia was being held – not with any certainty – but I had a fairly good idea. I figured that either her father or my Brothers had her. And when I found out who it was and where they were keeping her, I was going to get her back and them make them pay once I found them.
I was going to hurt them like they'd never been hurt before. And I was going to enjoy every last second of hearing them scream.
As I drove down the lonely roads of Illinois, my phone rang. I picked it up, not recognizing the number. Ordinarily, I wouldn't answer an unknown number, but something in my gut was telling me to answer.
“Hello,” I said.
“Deacon?” It was Emelia. “It's me.”
“Oh thank God,” I said. “I've been so goddamn worried about you. Where are you? Who has you? Are you okay?”
“I'm fine,” she said, whispering. “It's my father, Deacon. He thinks he rescued me from you – ”
She cut herself off and I heard what sounded her putting her hand over the phone. There were muffled voices in the background – she was talking to someone, but I couldn't make out who it was or what they were saying.
“No, I'm fine. Really, I am,” she said to the other person. “I don't need anything, but thank you Esme. May I please have a little privacy? I'm on the phone. Yes, thank you.”
“Sorry,” she whispered. “The maid. Where was I?”
At least it sounded like she was safe and wasn't being held hostage. That was a good thing.
“You're safe then, Emelia?” I asked.
“I am,” she said. “At least for the moment. I don't know what's going to happen when my father brings Tony around.”
For a moment, I feared that maybe this was goodbye. I thought that perhaps now that she was back at home, was safe and happy, that what we had between us was going to evaporate. That it had all been an illusion – or at least something that was temporary and easily cast aside. My heart ached at the mere thought of it, but if that was what she truly wanted – I would have no choice but to honor her wishes.
“Please come get me, Deacon,” she said, her voice choked with tears. “I'm begging you. I can't be here anymore. I only want to be with you.”
“Everything is okay, right?” I asked. “You're not being hurt or anything like that?”
“Of course everything is okay. And no, I'm not being hurt. Everything is back to normal around here. The status quo has been restored,” I said. “My dad doesn't even suspect that there's anything between us. And he doesn't know about the baby. Not yet. And he won't until I'm far, far away from this house. I can't stay here. I won't. I miss you, Deacon.”
“I miss you too, Emelia.”
“So that means you'll come get me? And we can run away together like we talked about? We can go somewhere far away?” she laughed, but I could also tell she'd been crying.
“Of course, love,” I said softly. “In fact, I'm already on the road.”
“Good,” she said. “Because I love you, Deacon. And I want to be with you. Need to be with you.”
“I love you too, Emmy.”
There were more voices in the background. “I have to go, Deacon,” she said quickly. “But you have my number, so call me when you're close and I'll figure something out. But be careful. My father is looking for you. He said he's going to do terrible things to you, so please, please be careful.”
She hung up and the phone went dead before I could say anything else. Hearing her begging me to come save her nearly brought tears to my eyes – and I wasn't the type of man who cried very easily. In fact, I couldn't recall the last time I cried. But this girl, she did something to me that I couldn't explain. She had a way of getting into my head and twisting my thoughts and emotions all around. I couldn't think straight when I was near her and my head always seemed to be in the clouds.
Emelia was special. She was unlike anybody I'd
ever known before and she really seemed to fill holes within me that I never knew existed before she fell into my life. And I knew I'd never be the same again because of her. I had to get her back.
And there I was, heading back into town with both my Brothers and the Italian mafia on my ass, looking to kill me. If I were smart, I would have been running far away, not running toward the danger. If I were smart, I would have been putting as many miles between me and Chicago as humanly possible and would never set foot on those streets again.
But my Emmy wanted me to come get her – and how could I say no to that?
I couldn't. Which was why I was willingly walking back into the lion's den.
Emelia
“Who were you talking to on the phone earlier, Emelia?” my father asked me, his eyes narrowing as he stared at me.
“A friend,” I said, staring down at my plate, feeling anything but hungry in that moment.
Esme had prepared a lavish feast to celebrate my return. She'd cooked all of my favorites, but I honestly didn't think I could keep anything down even if I'd wanted to. Tony was sitting next to me, holding my hand, and it took everything in me not to slap his hand away from mine. I didn't want to touch him. I didn't want him anywhere near me. The simple fact that he was holding my hand sent waves of revulsion sweeping through me and I was fighting the urge to throw up then and there.
“A friend?” my father pressed. “And which friend might that be, dear?”
“Just one of my friends, dad. You wouldn't know him.”
I flinched as soon as I said the word “him” because I knew that would only bring on more questions – from both my father and Tony. But it had just slipped out.
“Him, huh?” Tony asked, taking a long swallow of wine and then laughing. “Sounds like I've got some competition, eh?”
Tony – my fiance thanks to my father's meddling – was much older than me and repulsed me in ways I never knew I could be repulsed before. Maybe to some people, he'd be considered good looking. Perhaps even distinguished. But he smelled like stale cigarettes, had yellowed teeth from smoking too much and his face took on that pale, pinched look of someone who was already starting to age – and not very well.
I saw nothing attractive about him, and I was convinced that anyone who said otherwise only saw one thing – his money. And there was no question, Tony had a lot of money.
But to hell with money. I didn't want or need Tony's money. And I certainly didn't want to be tied down to that old man – much less sleep with him night after night – just so I could go shopping whenever I wanted to without having to worry about the price tags.
And there was no way in hell I wanted to be saddled with that disgusting old man now that I knew what real love was like.
“Not like that,” I said, rolling my eyes. “He's just a friend of mine.”
“You've remained pure for me, haven't you?” Tony asked, even with my father sitting right there. “Not been whoring yourself around, have you? Because you know that your purity is very important to me. Very important.”
“Of course not,” I said, feeling my stomach churn. “I mean, I'm not whoring around. I am a good girl. Always have been, always will be. I was raised well, Tony.”
Tony's hand moved off my hand and slid down my leg until it was resting on my thigh. He smiled and gave me a gentle squeeze. I thought I might actually throw up as he leered at me. My body stiffened up and I no longer could stomach eating my dinner as he stroked my thigh, moving higher and higher, sliding his hand ever closer to my most intimate parts – parts that he would never see. Not in this lifetime, anyway.
“Please don't,” I muttered under my breath.
I looked at Tony, and if he'd heard me, he gave no indication. My guess though, was that he already considered me his property and felt entitled to do whatever he wished, whenever he wished it. So he ignored my request. Instead, he continued to stroke my thigh through my pants and my stomach roiled. I couldn't speak, I just stared at my plate and tried to pretend this wasn't happening. That he wasn't groping me in front of my father.
My father stared hard at me. I knew he knew exactly what Tony was doing right there at his dinner table – and yet, he was doing nothing about it. I had the irrational urge to grab my knife and slit both of their throats right then and there. But I took a deep breath and tried to will myself to relax. Doing something rash – knowing that Deacon was coming for me – wouldn't be smart. And I really needed to play things smart for the moment.
“I don't think it's wise of you to be talking to other men, Emelia,” my father said. “Not this close to your wedding, and not without supervision. I just think it sends a very poor message. And we wouldn't want to do that, now would we?”
“What am I, a prisoner?” I snapped. “I thought you rescued me from my kidnappers. I didn't realize I was going to have to have somebody babysit me twenty four hours a day, monitoring my calls or who I talk to.”
As soon as I said it, I knew I shouldn't have. Tony grabbed my inner thigh, pinching the skin roughly, making me yelp in pain. I looked at him with hatred burning in my eyes. It would be so easy to bury my knife in his soft, fleshy throat. He'd never see it coming and I could have it buried to the hilt before he even reacted. And it took everything in me to keep myself from doing just that.
“No, you're not a prisoner,” my father said, staring at me with a serious, grim expression on his face. “But sometimes, a father knows what's best for his daughter. And right now, I'm just trying to protect you.”
“Protect me from who?” I asked, staring at Tony.
My father wasn't doing a very good job of protecting me from Tony right now – and that was obviously who I needed protection from.
“From Deacon, of course,” my dad said.
“Why would you – ”
“Don't assume I'm stupid or naive, Emelia,” my dad said, his voice rising. “I know how to check phone records. I know a lot more than you think I do. There is literally nothing that goes on in this house that I don't know about. You would do well to remember that while you're living under my roof.”
“What do you know exactly, father?” I said. “What is there to know? That I called Deacon? Big deal.”
Tony moved to pinch me again, but I grabbed his hand roughly and pulled it away from my thigh. He looked at me, an expression of surprise on his face – and a light in his eyes that said I would pay for that insolence later, when my father wasn't present and couldn't stop him. I had no doubt that Tony was the kind of man who liked to slap his women around. Beat them. Maybe worse. And I knew that he viewed me as a spirited horse that needed to be broken – and that he would enjoy trying to do just that.
My father wiped his mouth with his napkin and smiled. “I know that you and Deacon were close. I know that you let him in,” he said. “Because my men had been watching you, for some time actually, before swooping in and picking you up from that motel. I also know you called him earlier today, on the cell phone I gave you. Which is no longer in your possession, I might add.”
I had left the phone on the desk in my room before coming down for dinner, but my father dropped it upon the table with a thud. I stared at him, my mouth agape and a cold finger of dread sliding up my spine.
“Why did you even let me have it then?” I growled. “If you were only going to use it to spy on me?”
“Because I knew you'd reach out to him,” my dad said, smiling ever so wide, “I also knew he'd come for you, child. And trust me when I say that we have plans for Deacon Murphy. Big plans for him. I can't wait, actually. And I'm excited that you get to watch what we do to him.”
My heart sank and a knot tightened painfully in my belly. All of this was a trap, and now, there I was, a prisoner in my own home, completely unable to reach out to Deacon to warn him. He was going to walk into an ambush that was likely going to get him killed and it was all my fault.
“Why are you doing this, father?” I asked, tears welling in my eyes. “You have me
back now. Why not just let him go?”
“Because he took something that belongs to me,” my father said. “And not only that, he took something that belonged to Tony as well. And for that, I'm going to let Tony have some fun with him too. He is going to pay a steep price for thinking he could just waltz in and take that which was not his. He – and his entire brood – need to learn their place.”
I stared at the two men who were now grinning at me, waiting for me to say something. But my heart hurt too much. It was breaking at the mere thought of them hurting Deacon. I wanted to scream, cry, to fight back. But there was nothing I could do. Tony had put his hand on my thigh again and gripped it even tighter. And the way he looked at me – like I was a piece of meat ready to be devoured – scared me to death. If he knew I was no longer a virgin, did that mean he was going to have his way with me long before our wedding? Would my father let him?
I looked at my dad, and I so badly wanted to plead with him. I so badly wanted to hurt him.
“I'm not an object, dad,” I said, the tears sliding down my cheeks. “I'm your little girl. Why are you doing this to me?”
His eyes softened slightly – but only for a moment. They returned to the cold, hard chips of diamond that they usually were. Devoid of all emotion.
“The question should be, why did you do this to me, Emelia?” he asked. “Why did you betray your family like this?”
“I didn't – I didn't mean to,” I pleaded. “It just happened, but I promise – I won't stray again. I swear it. Just leave him be, father.”
“No, you won't do this again,” he said. “That much, I can guarantee.”
“Just leave Deacon out of this,” I said. “Please.”
Both men laughed – and not just the evil little chuckles of bad men doing bad things. No, these were full on belly laughs that shook their entire bodies. I remained silent, not sure what was so funny, but apparently it was something they thought was hilarious. The longer they laughed, the angrier I grew. But before I could unleash a verbal assault, my father spoke.