Sinister Love (Dark Intentions Duet Book 2)

by T. L Smith

  “Two nights,” I say to Antonio. He wipes his hand on his trousers, standing. He offers me his hand, and I shake it. He looks at me carefully. I can see it, the hunger for more power. He wants what I have, but he won’t get it. The only way I’ll lose this fight is if I’m carried out in a body bag, and that won’t be happening. Because then he wins, and Antonio can’t win. My father would haunt my ass, and I’d never live that down.

  “Aren’t you going to kiss me goodbye, Ryken?” Amy asks, standing offering me her cheek. If I could skin anyone, it would be her. Just so she can see her black insides aren’t as pretty as her false exterior. Maybe she should work on that?

  “I don’t kiss trash.”

  “That’s my wife, Ryken,” Antonio says.

  “That’s your problem, not mine.” Walking out, we don’t look back. What’s the point? We don’t want to engage with her. If there was a hellhound, she’d be it. She’s just like the fictional demonic dog. A guardian to the entrance to the world of the dead, with her foul odor and poisonous saliva. She skulks in the shadows, and you’re doomed to die. If she locks eyes with you, it most definitely could be a death omen. So if Amy’s around, you should run for your life because more than likely she’ll be on your heels before you can do anything to save yourself. One word—hellhound—it’s an excellent description for Amy.

  The minute we get to the car, Quinn starts it then shakes his head as he pulls out. “He’ll find the best fighter he can.” I nod. “He’ll make sure he fights dirty. You know that, too.”

  “I know,” I say to him.

  “Is she worth it? Really worth it? We never cared if girls got taken before. Fuck! We do the taking. Yet, you care so much about this one. Even though you don’t want her. Am I correct?”

  “Livia was the right choice,” I say, trying to remind myself of that fact.

  “Was she? Your father isn’t right about everything, you know. One thing I can say for sure is he was never right about the women in his life.”

  “I know, but I don’t want to be reminded.”

  “She isn’t pregnant, is she?”

  He obviously heard, but he hadn’t brought it up until now.

  “She isn’t.”

  “She’s a good liar. That talent will serve her well in court.”

  I don’t say anything to him. Because I hadn’t really even processed the fact that she was pregnant in the first place, let alone now she isn’t. She sprung that shit on me when she knew Barbie might be a choice to make. She told me a lie. I think Livia knew I would have chosen Barbie if she wasn’t pregnant, and sent her to Antonio instead. Well, as it turns out, it’s a damn fake pregnancy.

  “She’s blowing up your phone.” I look down and Quinn’s right. Livia’s ringing. I let it ring out to see five missed calls, all from her. Then it rings again, but this time I answer it. Because I know she won’t stop otherwise.

  “What do you want, Livia?”

  “You can’t leave me, Ryken.”

  I laugh at her. “We had this discussion about you telling me what you think I can do.”

  She huffs into the phone. “I love you.”

  My hand scruffs over my face. She thinks those words will work, that they’re magical, a cure for everything. She doesn’t know shit. She’s never had to not love someone in her life. It’s always been handed to her on a platter.

  “That won’t work anymore, Livia.” She starts to cry. “Neither will that shit,” I say groaning.

  “Saskia doesn’t know how to love. She’s broken. Why are you chasing her, and not here fixing us?”

  “Maybe I don’t want to fix us anymore, Livia.”

  “Don’t say that, Ryken. Don’t.”

  “I said it. Now stop calling, Livia.” I hear her cry again before I hang up.

  Quinn coughs but doesn’t comment.

  “She’s doing my head in,” I say, referring to the headache she gives me, every fucking time.

  Maybe I don’t really love her the way she deserves to be loved?

  Maybe we just aren’t molded to fit together anymore?

  “Block her,” Quinn says, and that’s what I do.

  Chapter Seven

  Saskia

  Amy’s hands are hitting me, hard. Why, I’m not sure. But they’re coming down fast and consistent while she’s swearing at me. Telling me what a piece of shit I am. And all I can do to protect myself is try to stay in a ball on the floor, where she pulled me from my bed to hit and kick me.

  Why? I have a feeling she wouldn’t tell me even if I asked. It seems she doesn’t like me, and it’s all I get. Why she doesn’t like me, I don’t know. It’s not like I’ve done anything to her. Hurt her in any way. But as each hit lashes my body, I wish I could be anywhere but here right now. Blood pools in my mouth and I try my best to protect my face, but it does me no good. Then she kicks me in the ribs, bruising them worse than they’ve ever been hurt before.

  “He thinks he can speak to me like trash.” She laughs and stops.

  I don’t dare move, I don’t even try to.

  “He’s lucky I don’t send you back to him in fucking pieces.”

  Then I hear the door click, and I know she’s gone. Leaving me curled in a bloody mess on the floor.

  Amy’s a vindictive bitch, and I hope one day she gets what she deserves.

  SCOTT’S STANDING OVER me when I open my eyes. I want to pull the blanket up over my face and hide. Amy hasn’t been back in today after she left yesterday. The only person who came in was the old lady who helped shower me.

  “You have to work today,” Scott says.

  Pulling myself up to a sitting position, I wonder how I’ll handle walking, or even wearing a tight dress and heels when I can hardly breathe. Scott got me my tablets, so most days have been better than when I first arrived. Apart from when Amy visited me, that was the worst.

  “I can hardly move, Scott.”

  He looks down at me and shakes his head. “Someone pissed her off. She wanted to hurt that person. You were her choice.” He walks to the door then stops. “You aren’t in the arena tonight, so it doesn’t matter what you wear. Just hurry up, Cecelia is waiting for you.” Managing to stand, I stay in what I’m dressed. I haven’t been able to change the shirt because it hurts too much to lift my arms. The blood stains are still clearly visible on my shirt. My sweatpants are dirty from where her heels kicked into me. I follow Scott, but my steps are slow, each step I take is like a knife to my ribs.

  Scott turns to look at me but doesn’t wait for me. When I finally catch up to him, I have my hand holding and supporting my side. He doesn’t say a word, mainly because he just doesn’t care. And, why should he? He isn’t here to look after me.

  Scott opens a door, and I remember this door. It’s where I first woke, it’s the place with only a toilet. He steps out of the way, and when I look in I see a young girl, possibly my age or maybe younger. She’s curled into a ball, and I wonder if they have starved her too. I really hope for her sake they haven’t, because hunger pangs don’t just hurt from the inside. It’s a cruel punishment. I turn to look at Scott, who’s watching me for my reaction. But I have none for him. Because the last thing I want to do is end up back in this room.

  “What do I do?”

  He looks at the girl. “She is to be sold. The buyers are already here. You need to clean her up then you need to bring her to the Arena.” He pauses. “Do you think you can handle that?”

  My hands sweat and my bottom lip quivers, but I somehow manage to bob my head.

  When he walks away, I step into the cold, cement room. She doesn’t look up, and all I can see is long dark hair. I think about crouching down to touch her shoulder, but that would hurt me too much. I can hardly walk as it is. My chances of getting down on the floor then trying to get back up are slim to none.

  “Hey...” I say in the most calming voice I can muster. She doesn’t move at first until I step closer again. “You should really try moving. After we clean you up we c
an feed you.” At least that’s what I hope.

  Does she know what she’s here for?

  Or why she’s been stolen like those girls from my neighborhood?

  Her hand moves, brushing the hair away from her face, and I notice green eyes looking up at me. When she sees it’s not who she thought it was, she sits up, her knees to her chest.

  “We need to shower you. Do you think you can move?”

  She nods but doesn’t speak. I remember that feeling. It’s a feeling of total helplessness. Unsure of how to react. If you speak, you’re beaten, so it’s safer not to open my mouth.

  I’ve been here now for two weeks. I haven’t seen any other girls staying where I am, this girl is the first.

  We walk to the showers, and I turn it on, test it with my hand to make sure it’s warm, then indicate for her to get in. She looks around to make sure no one is here then she pulls her clothes off fast before she steps under the water.

  Pulling the chair up, I sit down and look up to her. “Why are you here?” My question surprises her, she looks like she’s not sure how she should answer me. “I’m not one of them.” She looks me over, I think she can tell that I’m not one of them. For a start, I’m sporting some pretty big bruises myself. Her mouth opens like she wants to speak, but she closes it and puts her head under the water. I wait for her to tell me anything.

  Will she be in the same room as me?

  Are we both destined for the same thing?

  Then she talks. Her voice is sweet and innocent. “They took me at night. I was walking home from a party. I didn’t even hear him come up behind me.” She looks down to the tiles, the water running over her feet. She doesn’t understand, I think she knows this place is not where she should be.

  “Where you from?” I ask her.

  Her eyes don’t lift when she answers me, “Darwin.”

  I gasp. Could he have lied to me? Did he sell me? Because I have a strong feeling that this girl was collected by either himself or Quinn. “Do you remember what he looked like? The guy who took you?”

  She nods her head. “He was tall, dark hair, dark clothes. He had a slight stubble. He was intense. Scary as shit.” She’s talking about Quinn. When women look at Ryken, they don’t use words like scary to explain him. He’s intense, yes, but attractive is usually the first words to leave a woman’s mouth to explain what Ryken looks like.

  “How old are you?”

  She looks up from the floor. “Eighteen in a month.”

  Oh Jesus! My heart breaks for her. “I’m sorry.”

  She doesn’t understand my words because so far I’ve done nothing wrong. But I have a feeling her being here is in some way related to me. Maybe he’s trying to supply girls to get me back, but that’s not something I’d want to happen. Another girl’s life, yeah, that’s just as important as my own. If I could free this girl right now, I would. But I don’t know the way out of this place. So, instead, I do what’s been asked of me. Because I like my head exactly where it is and not under Amy’s shoe.

  “What will they do to me?” she asks me like I know. I have a feeling whatever’s happened to me. Whatever it is about to happen to her is going to be worse, though. I shrug my shoulders and stand back, turning off her shower. Passing her a towel she covers herself. When I turn to go back through the door, Scott’s standing there.

  “Dress?” I ask him. He looks at me with pity in his eyes when he nods his head. She walks behind me to the room I’m currently staying in.

  “You stay here?” she asks me, looking around. Shutting the door behind her, I pull out a dress that I know will fit her. She isn’t crying, she isn’t screaming, she isn’t even trying to run.

  Would she even have anywhere to run to if she could?

  If this were me, I don’t think I could be as placid and compliant as what she is right now.

  “They want you dressed.” She hugs the towel wrapped around her body. “Please, it’s easier if you listen.”

  “Is that how you got the bruises?”

  I haven’t looked at my face, but when I lift my hand to touch it, I can feel it’s starting to swell. I shrug my shoulders. She drops the towel, listening to me, and grabs a dress from my hands and pulls it on. Food is on my bed, and I offer it to her. I don’t know how long they’ve had her for, but I bet they haven’t fed her. It can’t be too long, as she’s not that weak. I was so weak I could barely stand, after being starved for days. I quickly change as well, knowing I don’t want to go around dressed like this with these blood stains all over me. We sit in silence as she eats until Scott comes back to the door.

  “It’s time. Take her to the Arena.” He walks away, and she looks to me.

  “What’s the Arena?”

  “It’s a nightclub.” I half conceal the truth from her. What’s the point of telling her the truth, when it will scare the shit out of her? She will have enough of that when the time comes. When she stands, I pass her some heels which she puts on without an argument.

  Am I about to walk her to the devil’s den?

  I surely hope not, but she doesn’t fight or ask any more questions. Not even when I open the door to the Arena and men are seated around a large stage. The same one I’ve seen fights happen on. She won’t be fighting, though.

  “I’m scared.” I want to touch her to reassure her, but my hands stay in place because Amy’s staring at me. The minute we’re seen, we’re waved through. I stay right beside this girl’s side, at least until I’m told to leave. A few guys’ heads turn to us as we walk past to the stage.

  Cecilia is there, I recognize her straightaway. She seems surprised to see me. Her eyes fall on the girl next to me. Cecilia steps forward, taking the girl’s hand and pulling her toward the stage. The girl looks worried, she looks back to me as if I can help her. But I can’t. I can’t even help myself. I notice Antonio, he’s seated right next to Amy. He’s watching me, studying me, just like she is. Can she see the bruises she’s left all over me? Can he? He didn’t seem to like it when I was marked last time unless it was him doing the marking.

  Cecilia’s voice comes over the speakers, and everyone gradually becomes quiet. She walks around stage smiling, her hand waving around. She thanks Antonio, to which everyone else claps. Then she looks back to the girl.

  I wonder what the fastest way for me to leave the room is.

  Because in her next sentence Cecilia does something that I’ve only heard stories of.

  She starts a bidding war, and it’s play money.

  She starts off at half a million. Who has that kind of money? What a waste. Oh, that’s right, Ryken does. The bids keep climbing higher and higher. Until a man outbids them all. Cecilia takes his offer, closing down the bids, and she tells the man when to collect his prize. The girl on stage is frozen to the spot. She doesn’t move when Cecilia asks her to. She has to yank her firmly from the darkened stage.

  “Saskia,” Cecilia says to me as she passes. The girl doesn’t even look up as she’s pulled to a room out the back. I glance over and see Amy staring at me. It isn’t long before my feet are moving, and I step myself back to my room.

  I just witnessed a girl’s life being sold as if she was nothing more than a ragdoll.

  Chapter Eight

  Ryken

  Two nights is all I had, two nights is how long it will take for me to get her back. She can’t stay there any longer. That shit hole is no place for her to be. Her place in this life is next to me. It’s just taken me a while to see that.

  My father was married by the age eighteen, and he had me by the age of twenty. He had started his business by the age of nineteen. Father began his businesses in clubs, nightclubs in particular. Then the business evolved. He got mixed up with some of the local motorcycle gangs. He didn’t see them as negative, he saw the positive in what they could do for him, and how they can do it. Because somehow, they were all connected, through each State, it was a brotherhood. That’s when he saw the potential. That’s how it grew into this busine
ss. He may not have been able to do it without them, but they definitely could not have done it without him.

  Once he worked out the ins and outs of his business, that’s when he put everything in place. He would find buyers. First off, they were all in Australia. Then, it grew worldwide. He’d made connections along the way. Politicians would buy a sex slave because their wives didn’t want to fuck them anymore. Each time he sold a girl, the connection grew. He was almost untouchable.

  You had to admire his business, even if you didn’t like what it was or what he’d become. Because to grow something from nothing, it was absolutely extraordinary. He developed his business while I was a child. I hardly ever saw him when I was growing up. His business was more important. Much more important than me, and he’s left it all to me.

  Sometimes I think I’m not worthy because I never earned my spot. It was given. But maybe my sacrifice was not having my father because even now I still don’t have him. Just what’s left of him. And even though he had an extraordinary mind, it doesn’t mean I should be listening to everything he said.

  Problem is, though, I did listen, and now Barbie’s out of my reach. But soon, I’m taking her back, and I may even lose my life trying to free hers. But if any woman’s worth it, it’s her. She doesn’t ask anyone for anything. She even donated half of the money I used to buy her virginity to a charity. She could have done so much with that money, but she didn’t. She seems to only live within her means.

  “You have to fucking train, Ryken.” Quinn’s not impressed. My lack of concentration is pissing him off.

  “I’ve been fucking training all damn day.” I’m angry now. All I want to do is sleep, but I can’t even fucking sleep. Every time I close my eyes all I fucking see is her. Cane wants me to come back, but he doesn’t understand, he’s never been in love. All he does is fuck. He doesn’t understand why I’m going after her. He believes I wouldn’t even be in this predicament if it wasn’t for her. Maybe he’s right, but what does it matter now.