by Ella Miles
“Come,” he says in a deep, commanding voice. A voice I’m not sure I hate or love. But even if I wanted to disobey his command, there is no way my body could disobey.
“Yes, Conti.” I come, screaming his name. Pretending I didn’t just let a man who raped me, fuck me.
We both finish, completely spent, but nowhere near sated. The exhaustion gets the best of us, however. We don’t talk. We don’t fuck again. We drift slowly off to sleep with our arms and legs entangled together.
I realize nothing I thought about Caspian was true. Everything has changed. He’s not who I thought he was. Or he is. Maybe he is exactly who I thought he is.
10
Caspian
“No!”
“No, No, No.”
“No!”
I don’t know who’s screaming. Is it me? No, I’m not screaming. I open my eyes and feel the wetness on my face. I’m crying from another nightmare. Another reliving of the worst day of my life over and over again.
But with my eyes open, the screaming continues. I turn to my left and see a naked woman flailing next to me, screaming ‘no’ over and over again. It takes me a minute to realize who the woman is in my arms. I haven’t had a woman in my bed in years. At least none whom I allow to stay after the fucking is over.
Gia, I finally realize. I remember. The sex. God, the fucking sex. What I did to deserve such a beautifully strong woman, I don’t know.
Last night started as a disaster. I considered raping her. That’s not who I am, but that’s how desperate I was to fuck her. I would do anything, including turn into the type of man I hate, to have her.
She told me, no, and my heart broke. I didn’t even realize I had any of my heart left capable of breaking. But then she grew deviant. And I could tell from the gaze in her eyes, she was as torn inside as I was. She wanted me to fuck her, and when she finally said yes, I lost my damn mind.
I only fucked her once, but I already can’t imagine fucking any other woman. I loved her mix of strength and sweetness. She fought me every step of the way but then gave into my commands with some persuasion.
Gia isn’t my type. I like obedient woman. Women who do exactly what I say without arguing. I like women who don’t have a clue what I’m thinking, but Gia seems to guess my every thought.
“Gia,” I whisper, afraid if I wake her too abruptly, I’ll end up with a broken face or something.
She stirs but doesn’t wake.
“No! Please don’t…” her voice gets quieter as tears drip down her cheeks.
“Gia, it’s okay.” I put my arms around her, strategically trying to calm her while ensuring her flailing arms don’t find me as a target.
“No! Conti, don’t rape me!”
I let go of her when she says my name, and I get smacked in the face by one of her thrashing arms. I don’t feel the impact though. I’m too shocked by what she just said. Is she having a dream about last night, when I almost raped her? I didn’t, but am I now a bigger nightmare than Dante is to her?
I deserve to be. I’m no better than him. I have different desires than him, but I’m just as capable of permanently scarring her.
Gia’s eyes slowly flicker open. They are soaked with her tears. And she cautiously looks around like she doesn’t know where she is. I sit on the edge of the bed, staring at her like she’s a tiger that made its way into my bed. And if I get too close, I will get clawed.
“Caspian? What are you doing in here?” she asks, moving her body up as she leans against the headboard. She’s completely naked, lying on top of the covers, but she doesn’t seem to care. I guess weeks of being naked in Dante’s world would make her not care.
“We must have fallen asleep after I fucked your brains out,” I say.
She blushes, and a slow grin creeps up on her tearstained cheeks.
“Oh, I remember now,” she says, smiling like a silly teenager.
“What was your nightmare about?” I ask.
Her smile drops in an instant and small lines form around her eyes, thinking too hard.
“You,” she finally says.
I nod. “I thought so. You said my name. Was what happened yesterday that bad, you had a nightmare about it?”
She cocks her head to her side and opens her eyes wide like I’m crazy. Her hand drums up and down her smooth stomach while she waits for me to realize my mistake. I have no idea what mistake I could have made.
“What aren’t you telling me?” I feel anger again. She doesn’t have to tell me anything, but I want to know everything. I want her to trust me with her everything. I haven’t earned it, but that is what I’m used to. We will have to talk later.
“I didn’t have a nightmare about last night. Last night was well…last night was pretty great. I had a nightmare about when you came to Dante’s.”
I frown, not understanding. “I thought when I killed those men in front of you, I didn’t upset you?”
“You didn’t.”
“Then, what the hell are you talking about? The only time I’ve been to Dante’s in the last month was to kill his men and install the security system. I didn’t see you when I installed the security system.”
“I’m talking about when you fucking raped me, you asshole!”
Tears, so many tears, flow down her cheeks. She’s pissed and angry and hurt. But I still don’t have a damn clue what she’s talking about.
I can’t stand women crying. It might be one of my biggest weaknesses. I reach my thumb up to her cheek, to brush the tears away, so I can focus on this psychotic conversation, but she slaps my hand away.
“Don’t touch me.”
I jerk my hand back and rub my neck, while staring at her, forcing my eyes to stay on her face instead of perky breasts like my cock wants.
“I don’t understand. I’ve never raped you, Gia. I think I would remember raping a woman like you. The only time I’ve fucked you was last night.”
“No, you raped me. It was one of the worst ones,” her voice trembles as she speaks.
“Tell me,” I say, hoping her telling me her nightmare, which is most likely just that: a nightmare she dreamed up.
“Dante said he had a surprise for me. Five of his closest friends he owed. Each would get a turn with me. You were first.”
She stops, pausing as her eyes shut. She’s remembering. And it chills my heart knowing her words are true, even if I’m not the one who committed the crime.
“I was on the bed, spread wide for you. I was cold and warm at the same time. You looked so calm and collected. You wanted me, and I would have given myself to you if you asked. You had saved me.”
I bite my lip. Her story can’t be true if I had already saved her.
She grasps the end of her long dark hair and twists the strands together in her fingers. “You were my fantasy. My last hope at freedom. When I ran into you that day in the street, I thought you were hot. And somehow your face and body were what I imagined every day when Dante was fucking me. Any chance I could, I pretended he was you. I dreamed about fucking you, instead of him. I fantasized about you coming to save me.”
She sucks in a breath that rattles in her throat through her shaky tears. “But then you were there. You were as bad as Dante. You weren’t my savior anymore. You wanted to rape me.”
“Gia, I—”
“No, let me finish.”
I close my mouth.
“You settled your body between my wide, open legs. I couldn’t move, I was so badly beaten. You kicked me rougher than Dante ever had. And then, just before you entered me, you realized you couldn’t have me watch. You couldn’t let me watch you hurt me. So you knocked me out.”
I bite my lip to keep from talking. This is her time to talk, not mine. I will have a chance to tell my story.
“And as I was slipping into unconsciousness, you started raping me. I didn’t even wake up until after the four other men had violated me. The only way I even knew that it had happened was because of the soreness and cum that ke
pt dripping out of me. The additional bruises that my body earned, even though I was knocked out.”
The green in her eyes turns red as she spits her words at me. “You may have thought you were compassionate. But not being awake, not being able to fight, not knowing who has violated my body, is worse than knowing. You are nothing but a coward!” Her voice breaks.
I want to hold her, comfort her, but she doesn’t want that. She doesn’t need that. She is fully capable of taking care of herself. And me holding her, would only make things worse. But I need the comfort. I have to wait to get it though.
I open my mouth, wanting to say words to make her feel better, but I’m not sure how to start so she will believe me. I’m not sure she will ever believe me.
I decide right now isn’t the time to try.
I get up off the bed while she is still shaking with her anger.
I grab her favorite pajama pants and shirt and place it on the bed next to her. I walk over to my dresser and put on some boxer shorts and sweatpants.
“What do you want for breakfast?”
She doesn’t answer. Just stares at me with a gaping mouth at my balls to ask if she wants breakfast when I haven’t addressed her story. But I can’t tell my side of the story. Not without a lot of help.
“I know you like french toast and eggs. I’ll make that and some coffee. Join me out on the balcony when you are ready.”
I don’t wait for her to answer or yell at me. I walk out and head to the kitchen.
Michi jumps to attention when he sees me. “I haven’t started the coffee yet, because I wasn’t sure when you’d awake. What should I make for breakfast?”
“Take the day off, Michi.”
“Sir, I would be happy to make you breakfast. I don’t need a day off—”
I take a deep breath before speaking so that I don’t take all my anger and frustration out on him. “Take the day off, Michi. I am fully capable of making breakfast today, and you haven’t had a day off in months.”
Michi stares at me a moment. I don’t think I’ve ever asked him to take a day off. He’s taken only a handful in all our years together. He’s like a father to me. He would do anything for me. And I know he sees the pain in my eyes right now. He wants to help me. But I won’t let him.
Michi finally nods and then leaves me alone in the kitchen. I make coffee, french toast, and eggs. I pile everything up on plates and carry it outside. Gia hasn’t left the bedroom yet, and I don’t know if she’s going to or not. But this is the only way to earn her trust.
I set the plates down at the table and then take one of the seats.
The french doors open and Adela steps outside. “Did you make some for me too?”
My lips thin. I want to talk to my sister, but I also want Gia out here. I nod, and Adela takes one of the seats behind a mound of french toast.
Adela takes several bites of her breakfast while studying me. “I guess you aren’t going to tell me what last night and this morning was all about?”
I shake my head. “You will find out soon enough.”
She shrugs. And I know she already knows more than she is letting on. The walls in my house are thin, so she probably heard plenty of our conversations. And she is more skilled than I am at finding information when she puts her skills to use.
I sit silently, watching Adela shovel in her breakfast.
“You’ve gotten better at cooking, bro. This is almost edible.”
I glare at her. “You seem to be eating it just fine. My cooking is as good as Michi’s.”
She laughs. “No, it isn’t. You aren’t the best at everything.”
I roll my eyes. I am the best at everything, but I’m not going to argue with my sister about it.
The door slowly cracks open behind me, and my heart stills.
Gia.
I know without turning my head that it’s her. The only other person it could be is Michi, and he knows better than to come back after I gave him time off.
Gia walks toward us. Her feet loud on the deck floor, it creaking below her steps, and then she takes a seat next to me, across from Adela, at the table.
“I’ll let you two talk,” Adela says, winking at me.
“Stay,” I say.
Adela raises an eyebrow, but she eases back into her chair.
I put a plate of food in front of Gia. “Eat. Then, we will talk.”
I want her fed before I speak and she storms out without eating. Dante left her far too skinny.
She rolls her eyes at me. “No, talk.”
“No, not until you eat.”
She pouts, sticking her bottom lip out roughly toward me.
“I’ll eat while you talk.”
I sigh. “Fine.”
I wait until she has eaten a couple of good bites, and then I start.
“Gia, this is Adela, my sister,” I say, gesturing toward Adela.
Adela jumps in, like the good sister she is, and holds out her hand. “It’s so nice to meet you, Gia. You are such an amazing woman, and I’ve heard so many great things about you. I’ve always wanted a sister. I know you aren’t exactly my sister, but I hope you don’t date this guy,” she says, pointing her thumb at me. “He’s a bit of an asshole, but you already know that. I’m just so happy to see a woman in his life at all.”
Adela speaks without taking a breath. But Gia smiles as she shakes her hand.
“It’s very nice to meet you too, Adela.”
Gia lets go of Adela’s hand and turns to me with an evil grin on her face. She slaps me hard across the jaw.
“You are worse than an asshole. You are a motherfucking jerk-bastard-man who deserves to get shot repeatedly in the leg every few weeks, just after you heal.”
I nod. “Jerk-bastard-man?” I smile a little at her new nickname for me.
“Yes, that’s what I said, and I stand by it.”
She crosses her arms. “I can’t fucking believe you. You led me to believe you were going to hurt her. She’s your sister! I know you are a bastard, but I don’t think you would ever rape your sister.”
Adela eyes me suspiciously.
“Really, Adela?”
She laughs. “No, I don’t have to worry about that. You would never rape any woman.” Adela glances between Gia and me, her smile faltering. “Wait! Did you rape Gia?”
I turn from Adela to Gia. “That’s what we need your help with Adela.”
“What? Did you rape her last night?”
“No,” Gia and I both say in unison.
Adela visibly relaxes in her chair, her body sinking into the wicker and cushions. “Thank God! If I had thought you would have actually have raped her last night, I would have never left you alone with her.”
I shift my weight in my chair, not letting her know I almost did rape Gia. But Gia again saved herself. I’m not as good of a person as Adela thinks I am. I don’t deserve any of the affection Adela gives me.
“How can I help then?” Adela asks.
“Where was I last Tuesday?”
Adela narrows her eyes. “What time?”
“Three PM.”
“You were running on the boring ass treadmill at the gym, twenty minutes from here on Ratonni street.”
“How about last Sunday at ten AM?”
“You were installing a security system in Milan.”
“And how about three Saturdays ago at six PM?”
“You were getting a manicure.”
Gia laughs at that.
“Adela has a photographic memory. Everything she reads, sees, or hears, she remembers. It’s quite annoying, actually.” I give a dirty look to Adela, who laughs at me.
“It’s true; I remember everything. My husband, Rodolfo, hates it. He never wins a fight.”
Gia continues her careful laughing.
“And how do you know everything about my schedule and daily life?”
“Because it’s my job to know. I protect you. I work for you and so most of the time I’m with you, and when I�
��m not, I have access to all of the security. It’s my job to keep you safe.”
I turn to Gia. “Satisfied she knows my whereabouts at all times?”
Gia nods slowly.
“Eat,” I command, looking at her still full plate.
Gia lifts her fork and cuts off a bit, before sticking a bite in her mouth.
“Tell Gia every time I was at Dante’s house while she was captive there.”
“The first time was Tuesday, the second of May. You were there to install the security system. I was with you the entire time. I don’t trust Dante, and I thought he might try to backstab us. As soon as the system was installed, I was able to monitor every part of the house. Including you Gia…”
Adela’s voice grows sad when she says she could see Gia. I’ve watched enough of the security feed of what Dante did to Gia to want to go over and strangle him with my bare hands, bring him back to life, shoot him, and then bring him back to life again and continue until he can’t survive any longer.
“Any other times?” I ask, prodding Adela.
“Yes, the day you rescued Gia.”
Gia’s mouth falls a little. And I can see her un-chewed food in her mouth. It doesn’t make me stop wanting her.
“Do you have any questions for Adela?” I ask Gia.
Gia shakes her head, although I’m sure Gia will eventually have a million questions for Adela.
“Adela, give Gia and me a few minutes alone.”
Adela smiles sweetly and nods. “Of course.” Adela gets up and walks over to Gia, squeezing her in a comforting manner on the shoulder. Then Adela looks at me, and I know she is going to be listening to every word of our conversation. At least Gia doesn’t have to know that.
I wait until Adela walks back inside.
“I never raped you, Gia.”
She looks up from her plate, staring at me like staring at me is the most important thing in her life. Like her life depends on finding my secrets.
“I believe Adela. I believe she thinks she knows what you do at all times. But she can’t possibly know. You could have snuck away for a few minutes that day.”
I nod. “I could have.”
“So why would I believe you? Why would I believe you when you say you didn’t rape me?”