Delivered (The Monster Trilogy Book 3)

by Marissa Farrar

  “You’ll collect the meals from the counter as soon as the bell rings,” he continued. “Keep them covered with the cloches until you bring them into the dining room, and once they’re on the table, you may remove the covers. You’ll also be serving the wine, and any other liquor my guests require while we are eating. Once we’re finished, you may remove the plates, and bring dessert.” He gave a slow smile. “Unless you’d prefer to be the dessert yourselves, of course.”

  Lily narrowed her eyes. “We’ll pass, thanks.”

  “We’ll see about that. Now do your best to remember what I said about being seen and not heard. Any smart-mouthed comments from you will be punished.”

  Lily clenched her jaw and stared at the ground, fighting the urge to retort.

  “I expect to see you both in the dining room shortly,” Rodriguez said, and left them alone.

  She looked to Jess, considering their next move. Should they go? Just run for the front door and pray it wasn’t locked? But she remembered the electric gates, and the wall surrounding the property, and then the miles of desert beyond. The door would be locked, and they were bare-footed and with no sustenance or water. They hadn’t eaten in forever, and their physical resources were low. Even if they got out of the door—which was unlikely—they wouldn’t make it far.

  The metal crash of a silver tray on the counter demanded her attention. Two plates covered in silver cloches were on the tray. The scent of grilled meat made her mouth water, and her fingers itched to lift the silver dome and inhale deeply over the meals that had been cooked for the men. She hated Rodriguez even more in that moment, that he could dine so luxuriously while she and Jess starved. It took all of her strength not to either pick up whatever was beneath the cloches with her fingers and tear into it with her teeth, or else lift up the whole tray and throw it at the wall. Jess was staring at the trays, and she swallowed hard. Lily knew she was going through the same internal battle not to fall on the food.

  The girl who set the tray down hissed at her. “You should go. They’ll be waiting.”

  Lily lifted her gaze and locked it with the girl’s dark eyes. The girl nodded, encouragingly or impatiently, Lily couldn’t be sure.

  “I don’t know where we’re supposed to go,” she suddenly realized.

  “They’re across the hall,” the dark eyed girl said. “Follow the noise.”

  “Come on, Jess,” Lily said to the other woman. “We can do this. Just suck it up and smile, okay?”

  Jess nodded.

  They lifted a tray each, the weight heavier than Lily expected. She hoped Jess would be all right carrying the weight. The other woman was weaker, having not had any kind of respite since being taken. She hated to think what would happen if they dropped the food.

  Leading the way, Lily walked carefully into the hallway, and following the sound of voices, she headed toward the dining room. As she approached, raucous laughter bellowed out, and her shoulders tensed, her heart thrumming. She needed to tamp down on all her natural instincts of both fight and flight, and just do as Rodriguez asked until she came up with a plan.

  The door was already propped open, so she was able to make a smooth entry into the room.

  It was decorated in the same style as the rest of the house, with plush white carpets, chandeliers, and a large mahogany table. Three other men, as well as Rodriguez, looked toward them as they entered, the laughter dying off. They were all smartly dressed in suits, and well groomed. She recognized one of them as being Marco.

  “Ladies,” said Rodriguez, clapping his hands together. “These are the gentlemen you’ll be serving today. I expect you to give them anything they want, and when I say anything, that’s exactly what I mean.”

  Lily’s blood ran cold. She walked to the far end of the table and set her tray down, allowing Jess to take the end closest to the door. She kept her eyes lowered, focusing only on the food, and not the men around her. She was horribly conscious of the way her dress clung to her body, of the flash of her cleavage exposed as she bent over, and the long slit showing off her thigh.

  She removed the cloche from one of the plates and tried not to drool on the food. Fillet steak, the creamy garlic of potato dauphinoise, fresh green beans. The sight and scent of the food made her want to weep, and the idea of having to watch these assholes eat and enjoy it, while they stood by, hungry, made her want to kill them. She never thought she’d be someone who would quite literally kill for a steak, but right now she was.

  Lifting the plates from the trays, she served Rodriguez first, placing the plate in front of him, before moving to the man, who she didn’t know—older, in his late forties at least, with salt and pepper hair—and serving him, too. Jess placed the plates in front of Marco and another younger man.

  “Good,” Rodriguez said, “And we’d like some more wine. Red, I think. Like the blood in our meat.”

  She said nothing, but reached to the bottle in the center of the table, hating the way the action caused her to bend over again, pushing her bottom out for the men to ogle, and her breasts to almost fall out of the cups of the lacy bra. She’d never felt under such scrutiny before, as though the men could see through the clingy clothing she wore, straight down to her naked skin.

  Lily refilled Rodriguez’s glass first, and then moved to the older man across the table. As she reached over to pour the wine, a large hand made contact with her bottom.

  “I like my meat juicy.” The older man laughed. “And this is a rump and a half.” He gave her rear a squeeze, and red clouded Lily’s vision.

  She whipped toward him, dislodging his hand and brandishing the wine bottle. “Put your hands on me again,” she snarled, “and I’ll cut your fucking throat.”

  She never knew she had this level of anger inside her, this vehemence.

  The man’s eyebrows shot up his forehead in surprise, but instead of addressing her directly, he looked to Rodriguez.

  “Rodriguez, I think you need to take your little pet in hand.”

  Rodriguez looked at her with exasperation, his nostrils flared. “Yes, it looks that way, doesn’t it? A simple order, that was all you had to follow, and now you’ve let everyone down.”

  Marco pushed back from the table, removing his jacket to place it on the back of the chair, and pushing up his shirt sleeves. “I can take care of her, boss. It will be my pleasure.”

  Lily froze, trying to figure out her next move. Should she use the bottle still clutched between her fingers as a weapon? Should she drop everything and run for the door? She didn’t want to make things any worse, if that was even possible.

  Marco rounded the table, not even bothering to disguise the smile of pleasure cracking his face, and Lily’s mouth ran dry.

  “Wait,” called out Rodriguez, suddenly. “She’s not to be touched.” He nodded toward where Jess had backed against the far wall, clutching the now empty tray. Her eyes were wide with fear, and even from this distance Lily could see her trembling. “Punish that one instead.”

  “What?” Lily cried, adrenaline exploding inside her. “No, wait! I didn’t mean it.”

  He gave a slow smile. “Maybe you’ll think twice before you treat one of my men with such disrespect again.”

  “Please, leave her alone. It was me! She didn’t do anything.”

  But the men had already turned their attention to Jess. Joining Marco, the older man pushed back his chair and was heading toward the girl.

  “Lily?” she cried out.

  Marco grabbed her and the tray crashed to the floor.

  Lily lunged forward, intent on clawing Marco’s eyes out if it prevented him hurting Jess, but strong hands grabbed the tops of her arms and pulled her tight. She found herself locked against Rodriguez’s body. She kicked backward, hoping to connect with his shin, and wrenched and struggled, but he held her firm.

  He spoke low in her ear. “The more you fight me, the worse it will be for her.”

  She fell limp. “You fucking bastard.”

 
He ignored her. “Bring the girl over to the table and bend her over it. I think her friend here just earned her a spanking.”

  “What? No!”

  Jess didn’t even try to fight. With her head hung, tears streaming down her cheeks, she allowed herself to be pushed over to the table. Marco swept aside tableware, plates, cutlery, and a full glass of champagne, so they crashed to the floor, making Jess jump.

  Fight back, Lily willed her. Perhaps if Jess fought back, the men would switch the punishment back to her instead. But Jess didn’t have the strength. Lily couldn’t hate her for it. She’d been through so much, and perhaps she’d been a fighter when she’d first been taken, but the past few weeks had broken any fight out of her.

  Marco pushed on Jess’ back, slamming her face down against the shiny mahogany of the table top. With a laugh, he yanked her dress up over her back, and then pulled down the flimsy underwear they’d been provided with.

  “No, stop it!” Lily yelled, unable to just give up. “Don’t you fucking touch her.”

  He looked up and smiled, and then breathed on the palms of his hands, as though warming them up, and rubbed them together. “I’m going to enjoy this.”

  Marco lifted his hand and slapped Jess hard on her naked bottom.

  Every muscle in Lily’s body tensed at the sound of the smack cracking, and she hissed air in over her teeth, feeling the strike for herself. Though she didn’t want to have that reaction, her inner muscles contracted, and her pussy throbbed as though she’d received the smack herself.

  Jess didn’t make a sound.

  Red bloomed on her pale skin, both erotic and horrifying to see.

  Marco lifted his hand and hit her again. Jess’ body shoved across the table at the impact, but still she didn’t say a word.

  Heat rose to Lily’s face as a familiar pressure and tingling condensed between her thighs. She bit her lip, trying to distract herself from the feeling. What the fuck was wrong with her? She couldn’t let watching Marco spank Jess turn her on. It was wrong in so many ways.

  Marco smacked Jess again, and again, but still Jess remained pale-faced but silent. Tears trickled down her face.

  “You like it, don’t you, bitch?” he growled. “Is it making you wet?”

  “Leave her alone!” Lily screamed. “Take me instead.” She’d be able to take the spanking better than Jess—hell, the way her head and body seemed to be working lately, she might even enjoy it.

  Rodriguez yanked her arms back. “You don’t get to offer yourself up like that. You belong to me.”

  “I’ll screw every man in this house if he touches her like that again,” she spat back. “I’ll climb on that table, spread my legs, and invite every one of them to fuck me.”

  Rodriguez’s body tensed behind her and then softened. “That’s enough,” he called out to Marco. “Let her go.”

  Lily exhaled a sigh of relief. Her stupid mouth was going to get her in serious trouble one day.

  Jess bent to pull her underwear back up her legs, and dragged her skirt back down to cover up her bottom. The men all stayed back, as she let out a sob, and covered her mouth with her hand. With her head down, she rushed from the room.

  Rodriguez released his grip on Lily’s arms and she yanked herself away.

  “I meant what I said,” he told her. “Every time you step out of line, it’ll be your little friend who gets the punishment. That was just a taste. Threaten me like that again and I’ll have every man I know rape her over and over, and I’ll force you to watch every single moment. Do you understand?”

  Her inside twisted with a sickening hatred. She wanted nothing more than to kill this man in the most hideous, violent ways she could think of. She’d believed she’d hated Cigarette Hands as much as it was possible to ever hate someone, but Rodriguez had taken her loathing to a whole new level. Monster had been right when he’d said he would make the Gonzalez-Larrinaga brothers look like a couple of school boys. She understood now why he’d said such a thing.

  Lily had killed before, and now she knew she’d happily do the same thing again.

  Monster (Fourteen Years earlier)

  Days had passed since he’d last seen the girl with the honey-colored hair and creamy skin. Though he knew he should be relieved at the lack of repercussions from claiming the spilled meat and rice, and the ruined rug was his fault, he couldn’t stop worrying. Other than a missed meal, he’d not been punished in any way. The girl, however, had not returned, and Monster worried endlessly about her safety. His father must have known he’d been hiding something. Why else would he have stopped the girl from bringing him the meals? Or was it that his father had picked up on the attraction and affection Monster had experienced for the girl, and he’d wanted to bring it to an end before it could cause any trouble?

  Either way, Monster struggled to believe his father had bought his story about tripping on the rug and spilling the food himself. He didn’t know how, but his father always knew the truth of what happened in Monster’s life. It was as though he had eyes in the corners of the bedroom, and ears pressed against the walls. Monster never got away with anything, but especially not something as big as telling a direct lie to his father.

  The thoughts of what had happened to the girl troubled him. Every time he closed his eyes, the image of her deep blue eyes completely meeting with his filled his mind. He remembered the tears trembling in their depths, but more than that, he remembered how she’d focused only on him, and not on the birthmark which blackened one side of his face. He found himself touching his fingertips against his lips, remembering how they had brushed her soft skin, and imagining he was touching her arm again. He hated that the last thing he’d ever said to her had been said in anger.

  “Go,” he’d snarled. “Don’t make me say it again, or I will be the one you receive the beating from.”

  The memory of those words cut him deep. More than anything, he wished he could go back and sew his mouth shut. Would she hate him now? Was she frightened of him? Was that the reason she’d not returned, or was his father at the root cause? When he lay in bed at night, the thing that haunted him the most was the idea of his father hurting her. Was she lying somewhere, beaten and broken, because of the lie he’d told? If they’d been honest about what had happened, would she have received a simple punishment, but still be visiting him now?

  He had so many questions he couldn’t bring himself to ask.

  Two more days passed, and the rug his father had removed for cleaning was brought back to the room by a couple of his father’s servants. He wanted to ask them if they’d seen her, but couldn’t get the words off his tongue. They didn’t speak, or even look at him as they laid the rug down in its original position. They turned to leave, and as they did so, his father stepped silently through the door.

  Monster inhaled, his breath trapped in his chest. He knew his father well enough to be able to read him instantly, the slightest bit of body language or facial expression—the tick in his jaw, a stiffness to his shoulders—to alert him to when trouble was brewing. Monster had known this all along. His mistake wouldn’t go unpunished.

  “I’ve always taught you to respect your belongings and those of others, is that right, Monster?”

  He used to call him ‘my little Monster,’ but he was too big for the name now.

  Monster nodded. “Yes, sir.”

  “When I speak of our belongings, I don’t only mean the inanimate ones. I’m talking about the men, women, and even girls who work for us, too.”

  “Yes, sir,” he repeated. “I understand.”

  “So what happened between you and the girl who was bringing your food?”

  His heart rate stepped up a notch, pattering in his chest. “Nothing, sir.”

  His father’s eyebrows lifted. “Nothing? You expect me to believe that? Have you been having impure thoughts about that girl? Did you touch her? Did you think about her when you touched yourself?”

  His cheeks burned with shame, fire rolling down
his neck and chest. “No, Father, of course not.” It was a lie, another lie. So many his father would certainly see through them all.

  “Did you forget I was young once, too? I know how a boy’s mind works. Why else would you take the blame for something she had done?”

  He knew. Of course, he knew. He always knew.

  “I’m sorry, Father. I felt bad for her.”

  “And you think feeling sorry for some girl is an excuse to lie to your own flesh and blood?”

  He shook his head. “Not an excuse. I was just trying to explain—”

  His father crossed the short space between them and his hand shot out and cracked across Monster’s cheek. He was bigger now, and the slap rocked his head, but didn’t send him to the floor. Monster clutched his cheek, now burning for a different reason. Anger coiled inside him, but he hadn’t been raised to fight back. His father was trying to teach him how to behave in order to protect him. Monster knew he was different. He didn’t have any experience in the world that would make him think fighting back was the right thing to do.

  “You were happy to go without a meal for someone else. Let’s see if you’re still happy after several meals. Perhaps then you’ll learn whose side you’re supposed to be on.”

  His father turned and stalked from the room, slamming the door behind him, and clicking the lock into place. Monster went to his bed and sank down on the edge of the mattress. How many meals did he mean? It was already lunchtime, and he was hungry, but he guessed there wasn’t much chance of that meal arriving.

  Knowing it would do no good to bang on the door and try to get his father to change his mind, he sighed and threw himself stomach-down on the bed. He picked up the paperback he’d been in the middle of, determined to lose himself in the story and forget about his empty stomach for a few hours.