“I have to get dressed,” she whispered, feebly, hoping the fear creeping into her tone could be passed off as fatigue. “I’ll be down in ten minutes.”
George nodded at her, scowling. He turned and slammed the door like he wasn’t pleased that it would take more than a minute to make herself presentable and get her ass downstairs.
Unless he didn’t buy the whole being sick thing, but he had no reason to suspect. He can’t know. Nico can’t know. If he does, I’m as good as dead.
Her entire body thrummed with adrenaline and her hands quivered. Her heart thundered madly. She stripped off her pajamas, wondering if the t-shirt and jeans she pulled on would be the last clothing she ever dressed herself in. Would she come out of this alive or would her brother put a bullet between her eyes for giving him up?
The only way that could have happened is if… if Drake ratted. Her brother would never, ever do that. They’d kept to the same routine, so as not to arouse suspicion. He’d stayed in his room doing his online summer classes like he’d done before Nico left. He ate regular meals in the dining room, but only because Nico refused to ever sit in there. It wasn’t out of his normal routine.
Nothing was out of the ordinary.
Drake wouldn’t have cracked. Even if Nico tortured him, her brother wouldn’t have given her up.
Would he?
Laura thought she knew Drake better than anyone else on earth, but the things he’d said to Ryder back at the shelter- it was like listening to a stranger. She had no idea who that person was. She had no idea that Drake ever snuck into Nico’s office. She wouldn’t have believed it if she hadn’t caught him there.
Was there more to Drake than she knew? Was he in line with Nico all this time, just waiting for her to mess up, to make a misstep? Was he Nico’s man all along?
No. Laura pulled her hair back into a high pony tail. She realized that it made her look too well, since she actually wasn’t sick, and changed her mind at the last minute. She pulled the elastic out, ran her fingers through the dark strands, mussing it.
As part of the act, she hadn’t eaten anything for two days. She’d sipped a glass of water here or there, that Drake brought when he came to ‘check in’ on her. She felt a little light headed and dizzy and when she checked the dresser mirror, she wasn’t surprised to see that her normally olive hued skin looked paler than normal.
Laura stared at herself in the mirror for just one more minute. She took in her cheeks, devoid of color, her lips slighted parted, so that she could take frantic little breaths. Her eyes were wide and filled with terror.
She blinked slowly. What had Ryder said to her? He’d said she was strong. That she must have been to have survived so far. She didn’t feel strong. She felt weak. Terrified. Victimized. She knew that if Nico was going to execute her, she wouldn’t be able to lift a finger to stop him.
It was ironic, that if she was going to die, it was going to happen on the very same day that Nico should have been assassinated. Murdered. Dispatched. Whatever word she wanted to pick for it, it was just as bad. She’d planned on faking sick until George and Nico and the rest of his men left the house. Ryder had given her a burner phone that she’d hidden away in her closet in a box that she used to keep her childhood sticker collection in. She was supposed to call the minute Nico left the house, so that the Servant’s knew that the timing wasn’t off and that he hadn’t deviated from the schedule.
Laura lifted her cell off her dresser. She flicked the screen and was dismayed to see that it was only an hour before Nico was supposed to leave.
Only an hour more and she might have been free.
Now… now she didn’t know.
She closed her eyes and thought about running. Panic clawed at her chest. It rose into her throat, choking her and she nearly gagged. Calm. She forced herself to take a deep breath. I need to stay calm. This could be nothing. If Nico knew, he wouldn’t exactly call me down to his office and have a rational talk with me before shooting me. That wasn’t Nico’s way. If he had any idea that she’d betrayed him and helped plot his death, he would have kicked that door down, dragged her from her bed by her hair, beat the living shit out of her, before putting her into the bathtub and shooting her, just so the blood would be contained in his precious house.
That was the Nico she knew.
I’m panicking for nothing. I have to stay strong. For me. For Ryder. For Drake. For all of us. I can’t do this. I can’t lose it, not now. Ryder’s right. I am strong. Laura inhaled, composing herself. Stronger than this. She raised her head and squared her shoulders. Stronger than I’ve ever known or ever thought. I can do this.
Laura blinked hard, one last time, before she tore her gaze away from the mirror and walked out of the room.
By the time she made it down the stairs to Nico’s study and his goons held the door open for her, Laura remembered that she was supposed to be sick, so she dropped her shoulders. Her demure attitude, bowed shoulders, stopped posture, and eyes that she cast down to the floor, weren’t an act. They were a shield for herself, but it was also the way she always approached Nico. He viewed her cowering as a sign of respect. She didn’t actually care that she had to do it. It was a way to protect herself and once she’d learned that, she hadn’t thought of it as anything more than a form of self-defense.
Nico hadn’t broken her.
He’d never break her.
She just wanted to stay alive and the less bruises she accumulated doing it, the better. She didn’t need to give Nico a reason to break her spirit. It was much better to let him believe that he already had; that he’d won.
“I’m glad you’re home safely,” she said to the floor. “I’m sorry that I’ve been sick and haven’t been able to- to welcome you back.”
Nico snorted, but it wasn’t a snort of disbelief. More one of boredom and disgust. “I wanted to have a little discussion with you. I’ve been putting it off, but I know you’ll need some time to get used to the idea.”
Laura froze. This wasn’t about the appointment Nico was leaving for shortly. It was about Marcello. She lifted her head just a little, but was sure to put on a demure look. Her eyes chanced to Nico, but then back down to his desk top. Of course he was sitting behind it. He’d never actually stand when she came into the room.
Stay strong. He doesn’t know. There’s still time. Just get through this.
“I’ve arranged a marriage for you. I know you’ll be happy with my choice. Marcello will make an excellent husband.”
“Mar- Marcello?” Laura stammered, aware that she was supposed to know nothing about the match.
“Marcello,” Nico repeated.
“But he’s- he’s- three times my age.”
“Experience isn’t a bad thing.”
“He- he killed his first wife,” she said softly. Obviously it was the wrong thing to say.
Nico slammed out of his desk chair. He stood before her in an instant and she didn’t have to fake the shiver of fear that clawed up her spine. Laura’s instincts took over. She wanted to punch out, to hit and kick and fight her way out of the room, away from Nico, but she couldn’t do that. She had no doubt he was going to hit her, but she’d take it and it would be for the very last time. Ever.
She shivered again, but this time it was in anticipation. How had she ever doubted that this was the right path? Nico held no love in his heart for her. None at all. She wished there was another way to make him disappear forever that didn’t end his life, but Nico had been raised, as the firstborn in the Cannelli family. He’d been groomed for the position, always knowing he was going to step into their father’s shoes. It made an already unsavory personality even harder and more messed up.
That was the Nico he was now. He wasn’t really even her brother. He wasn’t even fully a human. To be human meant having compassion and wisdom, love and empathy, and her brother lacked those.
His hand snaked out and he gripped a fistful of Laura’s unbound hair. She tried to stifle her scream, but it
came out as a muffled cry of pain anyway. Her scalp ached and white hot tendrils of pain filtered down her neck and shoulders.
“Please,” she pleaded. She reached up, trying to untangle Nico’s fingers, but it was useless.
Nico’s dark eyes met hers. They weren’t normal eyes. Fearsome, but soulless, deep pits where nothing resided but hatred and greed. That blackness was like staring straight into Nico and finding nothing, nothing but yawning emptiness where there should have been a heart, a soul…
“You will do what I say, you stupid bitch. I’ve kept you in this house all these years. Provided for you. Kept you safe. This marriage will bring this family the strategic alliance that it needs. It will expand our territory and the people who are willing to do business with us. I’ve been working on this for a long time and I won’t have you fuck this up.”
With a rough yank on her hair, Nico tugged her forward. Laura wasn’t anticipating the movement and she wasn’t quick enough to get her hands up before she was smashed right down onto the hard top of Nico’s desk.
Stars blurred her vision. Pain bloomed everywhere. Her face was on fire and the hot metallic taste of her own blood flooded her mouth. She wasn’t sure if she’d bitten her tongue with the force of the blow or if she’d broken her nose or just hit it hard enough to make it bleed.
Just as quickly as she’d been churned forward, Nico’s fist tightened in her hair again and she was tugged backwards. He slammed her against his chest and his hand shot out. The same hand that wore the two rings that had belonged to her father. One on his pinkie finger and one on his index finger. Big, gold pieces of metal that glistened in the light.
It was going to be the last time she’d ever see those rings on that hand while it was still warm and alive. Laura closed her eyes as Nico’s hand tightened around her throat. He knew just how much pressure to apply to scare her, to cause her maximum pain. He usually let up when she started choking, gasping for air.
Not this time. His fingers were brutally crushing, crushing at her windpipe, until the burn was too much to bear and her eyes watered at the force of it.
He leaned in, his breath putrid against her cheek. Tears poured out of the corners of her eyes and scalded her cheeks in hot trails. “Or do you object for a different reason? Because, behind my back, you’ve given that tight virgin cunt of yours to someone else?”
The blinding fist that smashed into her face caught her off-guard. She’d just about slipped into oblivion, her lungs raging, burning, on fire, but that wicked fist brought the world screaming back. She gasped and choked, spittle spraying from the corners of her mouth as she clutched at her wounded, bruised throat. She didn’t even think to bring a hand up to her face to stem the bleeding. That same white hot pain radiated out, flooding her body, flooding her brain, her consciousness, her entire being.
Laura tried to blink, to focus on Nico, but her eyes refused to clear. There was something in them? Tears? Blood? Why couldn’t she see him? How can he know? How?
“You see, my dear, I know everything that goes on. You are mine and no one takes what is mine. Don’t think it will get you out of marrying Marcello. I’ll pass you off as a virgin all the same. Say you did rough play as a fucking child. Something.”
How ironic. How. Fucking. Ironic. Nico had used the same excuse that she’d told Ryder she would for the lack of her virginity.
“This is punishment for acting like a spoiled little fucking whore. For daring to give away what belongs to me and to this family. You’re a thing. Nothing more. You’re a thing to be used and traded and if you have no value, that’s how I’ll treat you. The meeting with Marcello won’t take place for weeks yet. You’ll have time to heal and think about your actions. You will not be allowed out of this house. You’re not leaving this place ever fucking again. You got that?”
Laura tried to say something, to voice assent, to save herself any more of the pain and humiliation, but her lips wouldn’t move. They felt swollen and useless.
Her silence enraged Nico, who must not have realized that she couldn’t get the words out if she tried. She was choking on her own blood. Her stomach roiled like she was going to vomit at any second. There was still a vice pressed down on her throat, bruising her painfully.
“You little cunt.” Nico gave her a firm backhand and her neck snapped back. More stars floated in front of her vision. The gray closed in at the corners, the blackness coming for her, coming to claim her. She’d welcome the oblivion. Nico’s hand closed around her jaw and she let out a little whimper when he nearly crushed her face. He pried her mouth open and produced a knife out of nowhere. She saw the wicked glint, watched as he brought the brutal blade closer to her face. “I’ll cut that tongue right out of your pretty little face. Marcello would have no problem with a wife who was mute. He’d probably fucking thank me.” He ran the blade down her cheek. “Or maybe I’ll leave marks somewhere he’ll never fucking care about. He wants you. The deal’s already done. Scars or no scars. If it was up to me I’d take your eyes. Then you couldn’t look at another piece of shit again.”
Nico paused and Laura made a whimpering sound, wishing she could just black out. That the darkness would just take her and Nico would just leave and someone would blow his fucking head right off his evil as fuck shoulders.
“No, I think I’ll teach you a lesson another way.” Nico snapped his fingers. “George. Get the fuck over here.”
George complied. Nico pushed her hard, over the edge of his desk again. He didn’t smash her face into it, but he held her down hard, winding what little air she had left in her lungs. She gasped and was greeted with a wall of pain. Air. She needed air, but her lungs refused to cooperate.
“George here will teach you the lesson you need to learn. He’ll fuck you in each hole and you will not make a sound or I will cut that fucking tongue out and feed it to you. You’ve already given it away, what wasn’t yours to give. This is my retribution. This is your punishment. You will go to Marcello with that fucking wayward spirit of yours broken. After all these years. To think that I had you cowed and then to find out that you’ve been whoring yourself out behind my back. Probably for years.”
Nico unhanded her and stepped away. What little light she had left in her eyes illuminated the knife still gleaming wickedly in his hand.
Then it was George’s hands on her, thick, groping, tearing at her clothes in greedy, sickening eagerness. Laura ground her teeth together so hard that another fresh wave of pain bloomed from her bruised jaw and radiated out to the rest of her aching body.
She willed herself just to find oblivion. To give up. To get there and go to a place where George couldn’t hurt her. The blackness threatened and teased her, but ultimately betrayed her. It wounded her like a lover who should have protected her and threw her to the wolves instead. She wasn’t going to pass out.
I’m strong. Ryder said I was strong. Laura thought of him. Thought of his face. Of his gentle, sweet touch, his touch that made her come alive.
As George tore her jeans off and ripped her panties down her legs, Laura lost herself. She went so far inside of herself that she’d probably never feel a single thing again. She was safe. She was safe with Ryder. She wasn’t there in that room. She wasn’t going to be victimized by this man, by this beast, with her brother’s permission. She would leave and it would be her body that took the brunt of the assault, but he wouldn’t touch her spirit, her soul, the heart that beat for a man she barely knew but already knew was the one for her. The one man that she’d love. That she’d ever love. Even if Nico killed her right there, she’d go to her grave knowing that she’d found the one thing that she’d been searching for her entire life. Love. Happiness. Purpose.
Laura was so far gone, so far inside her own mind, that she didn’t even hear the spray of gunfire erupt in the room until she hit the floor.
She hadn’t heard it so much as she slowly registered it in her foggy, pain filled, deadened mind.
Nico’s soulless eyes stared b
ack at her while a crimson puddle of blood spread out from the bullet hole in his temple.
She registered that he was truly, truly dead, right before the blackness finally claimed her.
Chapter 17
RYDER
“Something’s wrong.”
Shawn had the nerve to fucking roll his eyes. Anyone else would have done it and lost their damn head. Ryder was already twitchy. His hands itched for blood and the gun he had tucked in the waistband of his jeans, as well as the two he had hidden underneath his leather jacket, sans patch on the back, were whispering his name in no so subtle tones. In fact, they were screaming his name. He wanted nothing more than to palm one and let fucking loose.
He ached for blood. Rivers and rivers of blood.
He had a little voice inside of him, one that spoke to him, an instinct he couldn’t ignore. He wasn’t just guessing something was wrong, he knew it.
“She should have called by now. It’s after one. Nico should have left already.”
“Don’t worry. It was just a courtesy call,” Shawn tried to assure him. The words fell flat. “There are ten Servant’s stationed outside that restaurant. Nico shows, he’s going to get his head blown off, right along with the bastards stupid enough to work for him in the first place.”
“They paid off the other guys though? The guards in the house?”
“They did, but the body guards were loyal. He has his right hand man and one other. They weren’t on the list, so they weren’t approached. The others have been bought.”
“So if shit went down at the house, like if he knew, would they have stayed and risked defending Laura and Drake or would they have got the hell out of there to save their own hides?”
Shawn’s face creased in concern. The fucking back alley they’d picked to sit and wait out the shit, a place where their bikes could be hidden and they’d go unnoticed, was dank even in the middle of the day at full sunlight. The place reeked. There were no dumpsters in it, so Ryder wasn’t sure why.
Lonely Rider - The Box Set: A Motorcycle Club Romance - The Complete Series Page 74