by J. L. Beck
She doesn’t understand the business, and I’m starting to understand where her distaste comes from, but she isn’t me, and she needs to understand there are rules that must be obeyed.
“Those people made a deal with me. They broke it, now they’ve paid.”
“What about the man who didn’t owe you anything?”
“Unfortunately, he was at the wrong place at the wrong time. I couldn’t let him go. Collateral damage...”
She shakes her head, a disgusted look on her face.
“I have explained how this works many times…” I stop myself from calling her ‘little one.’ “Amara, I understand that you can’t comprehend any of this, and that’s fine. But you had to be punished for your actions. My job is simple. I’m a leader. If I didn’t follow my own rules, no one else would. There would be mass chaos, and more people would have to die.”
I’m trying to be gentle, which is new to me. Her face lightens just a bit as if she is finally digesting what I’m saying. Her bruise is lighter, and it looks like she is using the creams I had sent down with Eli. Even though she is being punished, I make sure she has clean clothes, food, and whatever else she needs.
“You killed people. People who had families.”
“Families they abandoned for their drug habit. Those people yesterday, their kids were taken away from them because of neglect. No one will miss them. Especially not their kids.”
“What about the other people? People who come to you are in dire need. You’re their only hope. Just like my father…” Tears well up in her beautiful, brown, doe eyes. My chest constricts.
“I don’t have to justify my–”
“You’re right. You don’t,” she agrees, cutting me off. “But you shouldn’t just go around killing people. You shouldn’t kill people without knowing their struggle.”
“Their struggle isn’t my problem. Not everything in this world is rainbows and fucking sunshine, Amara. Sometimes life is hard. Life is a bitch, and no matter how many times you hit it, it gets back up. I could guarantee that none of those people would have my back if our roles were reversed. No one out there has your back as much as you do.”
She sniffles, her eyes filling with more tears. “I don’t fucking care. You’re a mindless, disgusting bastard who gets off on bloodshed, and that’s not okay with me. I didn’t sign up to be shacked up with some lunatic.”
I laugh, because, well, it’s funny, and if she thinks I’m crazy, she should see some of the sick bastards who walk freely in the world.
“You didn’t sign up for this? Well, neither did I, darling. But I can tell you now, your father did sign up for the money. Money that he spent on you.”
I smirk because I’m a fucking prick like that. I watch as her eyes skim the cell. There is nothing for her to throw at me. The small toilet and sink can’t be moved, and she wasn’t given any sharp objects.
“I hate you!” She lunges forward as if she is going to do something. Except I’m faster and more experienced when it comes to fighting. If a fight is what she wants, she doesn’t stand a chance.
I grab her, my touch firm, but not rough enough to hurt her. She struggles against me, her elbow coming to land on my stomach. It doesn’t affect me, though. I have been shot at, punched, kicked, and beaten many-a-time.
“Stop,” I demand, pushing her back onto the bed. She squirms even more as if she thinks she can actually get away. She needs to stop—she is making me hard with every scrape of her thigh against my cock.
Since she won’t stop, I decide to take matters into my own hands. I push my weight onto her, which in turn pushes my cock against her thigh. A gasp leaves her lips as her heart races under her shirt. I can hear it even without being against her chest.
“Get off me!” she cries out. It sounds like a cross between need and hate. It’s as if she wants me at that moment, but at the same time, wants me to go away. If that’s the case, I completely understand.
“I know you want it. You want me as much as I want you. You want my cock inside your tight pussy, don’t you?” I push my arousal against her again, thrusting my hips in an upward motion.
She shakes her head no, but with every small thrust, she sighs as if it alleviates some of the pressure deep within.
Her eyes darken, and her tongue dips out onto her bottom lip. She wants me. I know it, and she knows it. It’s getting there that is going to be the hardest part.
“Let me fuck you. Let me satisfy all those desires deep inside that pretty little head of yours.” My hands caress her as I leave a kiss against her neck.
“You’re demented,” she hisses. She is on the edge, at the point where she wants it, but she doesn’t. I just need to give her that last push into wanting…
“Yes, I fucking am,” I murmur against her ear as I suck it into my mouth. I hear her cry of pleasure, and I’ll be damned if my heart doesn’t speed up a little bit.
“This is wrong…” she utters between pants. I know why she thinks it is wrong, but I don’t care. She will have to understand and learn if she ever plans to make it in this life.
“Nothing is wrong. It’s merely your perception of what you believe is right and wrong that has you confused.” I push her down, parting her legs with my own. Devouring her neck and ear, I wait for her to say the final words.
She shudders, her hips gyrating against my own. She whimpers again, her eyes opening. They shine brightly back at me as I slide my hand down to her sweatpants, cupping her. Her head falls back, and her eyes close for a brief second.
“We can’t,” she states, fighting against it. I will admit, she is strong, but I’m stronger.
“Then I’ll taste you. I’ll have you begging to ride my cock,” I murmur in her ear as I pull myself off her. Gripping the hem of her shirt, I pull it off in one swift movement. Her pants follow suit, and she lies before me in nothing but a black thong.
“It was wrong. What you did was wrong.” Her words are real, and the force of them stops me dead in my tracks.
“I never said my actions were right. In my world, that is what happens when you don’t pay a debt,” I whisper against her skin. She smells utterly delectable. I’m holding back from taking a bite of her.
I bend down to press my lips against hers when I hear a throat clear behind me. “Sir… You’re needed upstairs. There has been a break-in.” Mack’s voice hits my ears, but it takes a moment before what he says registers in my mind. Shit.
“I’ll be right up,” I respond, clearing my throat. I’m flustered, and as I look down at Amara, I see she is too. At least I’m not alone in the need for pleasure.
“I need to go up there and see what the problem is.” Her eyes search mine as if she’s looking for something, like a missing piece to who I am. I’ve seen many women look at me with that same look, but most of the time, it disgusts me. Disgust isn’t something I feel right now, though.
“Okay…” Her voice is meek.
“Stay here. I will come for you later.” Pulling myself off her takes every ounce of my willpower, and it’s even worse when I come to a standing position. My cock is aching painfully in my pants while she’s just lying there as if she’s on the menu for dinner.
“Can I not go upstairs?” Her eyes plead.
“No, not yet. We’ll talk when I come back,” I promise, walking to the door and closing it behind me. Her warm eyes are on me the whole time, and I know she’s down. She’s sad, broken, and confused, and leaving her here is the last thing I want to do, but in the grand scheme of things, I haven’t a fucking clue as to what to do with her.
I take the stairs two at a time, and at the top, Mack greets me to give me a report.
“What happened?” I furiously demand. I’m back in mob boss mode.
“Someone jumped the fence in the back yard. The silent alarm went off,” Mack explains, his eyes never leaving mine.
“To the office. I can’t believe you weren’t watching the fucking cameras,” I growl. There should be no reason to need
me, I train these men to deal with these issues.
“We were, sir, we didn’t see—”
“Then you go out there and check it out. There isn’t any reason you should need me unless you don’t have the situation under control?” I question him, wondering if he really has the situation under control. Luccio’s words ring in my ears to watch my back, to protect myself.
“Sir…” Mack tries to get in, but I turn on him. Grabbing his collar, I shove him against the wall.
Leaning into his face, making sure he can hear and see every word coming from my mouth, I spit at him, “You have one job, Mack. One job. If you can’t do your job, what fucking good are you to this family?”
I have known him a long time, yet have never before seen the anger that is now showing in his eyes.
“If you would just fuck the bitch in the basement and then kill her, maybe your head would be where it’s supposed to be,” Eli’s voice meets my ear. I turn my head to the side to see him approach.
Letting go of Mack, my hands clench into fists as my patience for bullshit flies out the window.
In a second, my hands are wrapping around Eli’s throat. He might be just as big as me, but I’m faster.
“She is mine to do with as I please. I wasn’t aware that you had a problem with her. Do you have a problem?” My eyes narrow as his face goes pale when he realizes he should have kept his mouth shut.
When he doesn’t answer me, I squeeze harder, my fingers digging into his flesh. Nothing matters to me anymore, or at least that’s what I keep telling myself. His eyes bulge out of his head, and I can hear his body gasping for even the tiniest shred of oxygen. The noise pulls me from my mind, and I release him. I’m a monster, a horrible person, but I’m above killing my own kind.
He sucks in a breath and then another as he stands there, the life coming back to his eyes.
“Would you have really killed me over such a pathetic comment?” he asks in between breaths. I ignore his question and head straight to the security room. No one is manning the desk, and fiery rage fills me. What is the use if no one is here to fucking do as I say?
Letting it go, for the time being, I focus my attention on the monitors. The cameras don’t show a disturbance, but the alarm is going off, which means even if the intruders aren’t seen, they are still out there.
“Fuck…” I pound my fist against the table. Eli is right, my head is not in the game. She is getting under my skin. She is distracting me. Making me think crazy fucking things. Things that I can never, nor should I ever, think about.
I need to handle this on my own. Taking a few calming breaths, I feel as if everything is finally back into place. I head toward the back door and out into the darkness. I’m a hunter searching for his prey. My eyes adjust to the darkness, and my body fills with tension as I ready myself for a fight.
“Come out, come out, wherever you are…” I sing, my voice that of someone I don’t even know. The wind blows, and the moon shines brightly down on me as I stare up at it. How confused and fucked up, am I?
A twig snapping in the distance brings me from my thoughts, and it is then that I see the shadow of a man looming by the perimeter wall. If he thinks he is getting away, he has another thing coming.
With precise movements, quietly and stealthily, I sneak up on him. His frame is large, but from his heavy breathing, I can tell it isn’t muscle he is carrying around.
The moon illuminates the sky, but not enough to get a good look at the guy. Crossing the short distance between us, I reach out and grab his shoulder, turn him around quickly and push his body against the brick wall.
Reaching for my gun on reflex, I realize I forgot to grab it. I never forget it. Amara. She’s got my mind in a haze.
Ah. Fuck it. Hand to hand it is. Looking at the guy, I am not really worried. His face is heavy, and his eyes hold a secret that I plan on getting out of him.
“Who the fuck are you?” I growl. I’m six…five…no, about one second away from ripping his fucking face off.
“I…” he starts. I can see the fear and feel it coming off him. I may have even got a whiff of piss.
“Did you just piss your pants?” I yell in his face. Spit escapes my mouth and clings to his face. He doesn’t even move to wipe it away.
A whimper escapes his lips, but that isn’t good enough for me. A whimper isn’t an answer.
“I’m going to ask you nicely one more time. WHO THE FUCK SENT YOU?” My words vibrate within me. My teeth clench as my body begs to unleash hell on this fucker’s ass.
“I work….” Well, we are making progress—two fucking words are better than one, but it isn’t the answer I want.
Gripping him by the throat, I rip the knife from my ankle, where I always keep it and press it firmly against his throat. Blood trickles from the cut, but I am not done. I will be bathing in his blood by the end of this if he doesn’t provide me with answers.
“Tell me!” I snarl, pushing the knife in with more force. His eyes widen, and his breaths become pants. He is going to have a heart attack if I don’t kill him soon.
“Luccio,” he says the name as if it is one he knows well. I narrow my eyes at him, trying to determine if he is, in fact, telling the truth. Luccio had been the very person to warn me… Could he be the person who set me up, to begin with?
“What about him? Tell me everything or so help me fucking god, I will cut your throat open and watch you suffocate.” Each word is something I mean. I don’t make promises, I just do it.
“I work with him…”
Tilting my head at him, I grip his shoulder harder. “What are you doing on my property?”
“I can’t tell you.”
“Well, that’s a shame.” Taking the knife, I slide it across his throat—blood pools from him like he is a leaky faucet. I watch the life leave his eyes as his last breaths are nothing but gurgles. Then I bend down, place a kiss against his forehead, and head back inside. I will find out who it is he worked for and what they wanted.
14
Amara
“Let me the fuck out of here!” My fists pound against the door with a ferociousness that hurts my skin. I have been locked down in this hell hole for days.
The only thing that can be heard is my pointless pleas for release. Enzo said he would come back, but that was two days ago. Two fucking days I have sat down here waiting and silently hoping for him to come. Then again, at the mere mention of his name, I want to gouge his eyes out.
He makes my core clench, but at the same time, he makes me want to puke. The thought of being attracted to him—wanting him—makes me sick. How can I want such a heartless killer? It’s as if God is playing a cruel game with my emotions.
Since listening to my own pleas is exasperating, I pull myself away from the door and throw myself onto the bed. There is no way out of this hell hole other than through the door that I obviously don’t have a key to. Eli hasn’t come down to check on me for hours, but I’m relieved about that. He scares me and creeps me out. I know if given the chance, he would fuck me and then kill me without a second thought.
When he came down the time before last, his neck had purple bruises on it. He looked as if he had been choked, but I was not going to ask him about it.
I don’t think Enzo has it in him to kill his own family or friends. It doesn’t seem like something he would do. Neither does keeping me alive, but here I am.
I’m not afraid that a part of me wants him. It’s a dark part of me, something that craves the fear and darkness that only he can bring out. I’m not stupid, though. I know the path that he is on will only lead to death. I don’t want that, I want to live. I want to be happy and go back to college and grow old with someone who loves me.
That thought makes me think of my mother and the days before she died. She begged me to make promises to her. They were petty, little things, but I agreed to them simply to put her mind at ease. She was already going through so much, and if making a promise made her day better and b
rought life back into her for just a moment, I would do it.
My mind drifts to the most important promise I made. . .
“Promise me. Promise me that you’ll take care of your father. He’s a man, a stubborn one, but with your guidance, he can move on.” Pain showed in her eyes, and I knew how hard it was for her to ask me to do something like that. She had always been the one to carry the weight, the one who made sure everything was okay.
With tears in my eyes, I promised her. “I promise, Mom. I promise to keep him in line.” She smiled at me gently. I cursed God, wondering how he could take such a precious person from us. My mother must have noticed me pulling away because she spoke to me with so much love that I was shaken to the core.
“Don’t fret, child. I will always be here. Right in there…” She pointed to my heart. She had given me life, had shown me the meaning of love through her relationship with my father, and I had always thought she would be here.
“When you get lost, or you’re worried, and you don’t know what choice to make, listen to your heart. I’m in there, and I’ll guide you the best that I can. Remember that…”
Her words still echo in my mind as I pull myself from the sad memories. Tears form behind my eyes, and although I am not afraid to cry, as I know it doesn’t mean I am weak, I don’t want to. I don’t want to cry over my mom or the debt I am paying in my father’s name. I want to smile, to be happy and move on from all of this.
Someday, I will. At least I keep telling myself that. For now, I will have to deal. It doesn’t stop me from wondering what my mom would think, though.
What is my father doing right now? My heart tightens as I think of him all alone. Will Enzo let me call him eventually? Let me check up on him? Will Enzo ever let me go? Doubts swarm me, fear owns me, and courage is the only thing keeping me going.
I burrow myself into my blanket as I let the uncertainties eat away at me. I can’t run, but I can’t accept my life here either.