Made to Beg

by Piper Stone

  I didn’t even remember placing the glass on the table, but I wasn’t certain I had to strength to pick it up again and God, I needed the damn bourbon. What was happening to me? I wrung my hands, staring at the blood on the towel, horror wrapping its bony fingers around my neck. How in the hell had I gotten myself in this predicament? I shivered to my very core, my heart racing to the point the sound of the beats echoed in my ear. I hadn’t intended on coming here but the moment I was in the cab, Lorenzo’s address was the only thing I’d been able to remember or say.

  I was dirty, filthy, and disgusted with myself, so cold that I could barely breathe. I darted a look in his direction, finding it entirely too weird that I found him so attractive at this moment. By all rights, I should fear him as much as the monstrous asshole I’d come across. I’d been chasing a story for almost six months, a series of horrific crimes I’d been able to link to one man. I’d just needed a last confirmation and nothing more, instead stumbling onto a murder scene. Not murder. Slaughter. And I’d frozen. A weak and helpless girl.

  I’d known I was in over my head, but my adrenaline and drive refused to be denied. The informant I’d talked to had promised me a story of a lifetime. My fucking fifteen minutes of desired fame had almost cost me my life.

  No, it likely would cost me my life unless a gangster agreed to help me. I didn’t want to die but I also knew the chance I was taking in accepting any assistance from Lorenzo. Favors he didn’t do. He merely took what he wanted.

  Just like he had four years before.

  Fucking me.

  Spanking me.

  Using me.

  Oh, God. Oh, God. What was I doing here?

  I looked down, trying to find the courage to even speak. I’d never been weak, had always been the girl to take chances, enjoying and savoring adventures. I was a black belt in karate, had a concealed weapons permit. Where the hell was my gun now? Taken. God, it had been taken from me. I was like some sniveling little girl unable to find her voice.

  Lorenzo sighed and walked to the couch, keeping his distance yet sitting beside me. “Whatever happened tonight, you can tell me. I’ll do everything I can to help you, but you gotta open your mouth, doll. There isn’t another way.”

  I could only nod like some bobble-head doll.

  He picked up my glass, gently tugging one of my hands from the cloth and positioning the tumbler so I could wrap my fingers around the thick crystal. When I didn’t move, he lifted my arm for me, pushing the rim to my lips. “Take a few sips so you can calm down.”

  I obeyed him just like I’d done before, licking drops of liquor before taking a few tentative sips. Then gulps.

  Lorenzo muttered under his breath as he eased the bloody rag to the table. “Okay, that’s enough.” He forced the glass away from my mouth and out of the corner of my eye I noticed him shaking his head. “Sierra, what the fuck happened?”

  One. Two. Three.

  Four. Five. Six.

  I counted all the way to ten before I was able to answer. “I witnessed a horrific murder.”

  He issued another deep sigh. “If you only witnessed it then why are you covered in blood?”

  “Because...” I started, shaking even more. After a few additional seconds, I was able to look into his eyes. “Because I was right there when he issued the killing blows, savagely plunging the knife over and over again into the guy. The poor boy was screaming, begging for my help. I tried. I really tried to help him, but I couldn’t. I just...” I gasped for air, unable to finish the sentence. I could still hear the monster’s laugh as he chased me, only I knew he had no intention of killing me then.

  He would wait.

  He would hunt.

  And he would capture me.

  And nothing I could say would sound plausible. There was no law enforcement agency who would believe me either. I’d gotten too close.

  “Christ. Just take a deep breath,” Lorenzo instructed, his tone emotionless.

  There was such coldness in the man, except in his eyes. I would never forget his chocolate brown eyes from before as he fucked me over and over again. I’d hungered for him for months after the tryst, aching to have his cock filling me, his hand spanking my naked bottom.

  Then I’d learned his true identity and swore never to think of him again.

  But fate had other things in mind. The images of blissful passion filtered into my mind like a movie repeating itself.

  Days spent together, obeying his every command. Remaining naked in his room, chained to his bed for a time. The harsh spankings. The brutal fuckings. Hell, I hadn’t seen the sun again, except for in passing, until I left Cancun and I hadn’t cared.

  “The killer. Let me get this straight. You followed someone to Fuller Park in the middle of the freaking night for what reason? You’re not a cop.”

  “No, not a cop, but I... I had to.”

  “Uh-huh. I don’t take you for a stupid woman, Sierra. There is a reason and I already told you, I refuse play games. If this is some kind of ploy or if you lie to me, I will know and trust me, I will punish you.”

  “Ploy? No. I’m telling you the truth.” The man was threatening to punish me now? I should be shocked, but this was the man I believed I could trust. Something had to be wrong with my brain for thinking I could come here and get help of any kind.

  He seemed exasperated. “All right. Then go on.”

  Why was I terrified to tell him the entire story? I was exhausted, my stomach churning from the intense nausea. “I was stupid. Just stupid. Don’t worry about it. I’ll be fine.”

  “You must have a death wish, Sierra. Do you know what kind of criminals walk streets in that part of Chicago? They would kill you for the clothes on your back. Fuck.” He abruptly moved to a standing position, walking toward an oversized window. “Jesus Christ. Whatever the hell you were doing there, you were damn lucky.”

  My God, he was so angry.

  I watched him as he processed the fact I was here, let alone the reason. I knew at that moment I’d made a huge mistake coming to his house for any reason. I struggled to my feet, still swaying, lightheaded from the terror riddling every cell and muscle. The cab driver had tried to take me to the police, but I knew that was the last place I wanted to go. I couldn’t trust them. Hell, I was no longer certain I could trust myself.

  “I’m... sorry. I shouldn’t have come here.” I willed my feet to move, to head toward the door. I’d find a way to get to somewhere. Anywhere.

  “Where do you think you’re going, Sierra? You have no money, no identification, and no phone. Let alone the fact you’re covered in a dead man’s blood.” As he turned to face me, he rubbed his jaw, closing his eyes briefly.

  “I don’t know. Okay? I wasn’t thinking.”

  “What. Were. You. Doing. There?”

  I swallowed at least three times. “Talking to an informant.”

  “An informant. If you’re not a cop, then that makes you a reporter.” He didn’t need me to answer, a smile curling on his lip. “Goddamn it.”

  “I know what it sounds like. I thought I’d be safe.”

  “You thought wrong,” he snapped, pacing the room for a full minute. “Here’s what we’re going to do. You’re going to get into a warm bath. I’ll get you something to sleep in. You’ll get a good night of rest then we are going to talk in the morning.”

  “No, I can’t.” I held out my hand, taking two steps backward. I couldn’t tell him the rest. I wasn’t certain I could tell anyone what the bastard did to the poor kid. He couldn’t have been more than twenty-one, maybe. The blood. The gore. The screams.

  “I’m not going to touch you, Sierra, but I will protect you until we can figure this out. That’s the single promise I’m going to make to you. I hope you understand me.”

  The room was suddenly spinning, my entire world plummeting straight into hell. Images rushed into my mind: the killer’s face as he licked blood off the knife, his wild eyes as he studied my reaction, and the man’s body
writhing in the throes of death. Lights. Suffocation. I couldn’t breathe.

  As I slumped forward, the blackness reached out with ugly claws, dragging me into a cataclysm of fire and damnation.

  “There’s nowhere you can run from me. I will be coming for you...”

  * * *

  I’d never felt such warmth enveloping my body, tickling my senses. I felt cocooned, so comfortable. My eyelids felt heavy, every muscle aching.

  “I know who you are, Sierra Fox. I know where you live. I know who all your friends are. And I know your weaknesses. There isn’t a place on this earth you can run to where I won’t find you and when I do, I’ll never let you go.”

  “No!” I jerked up, gasping for air.

  “Whoa. Take it easy.” The husky voice was velvety smooth, slipping over me like a warm blanket as strong hands held me down.

  I blinked several times in an effort to focus, still struggling to breathe as the realization of where I was finally settled in. “Lorenzo.” I realized that I was in a bathtub full of bubbles, the warmth surrounding me from the water. He was crouched over the tub, a washcloth in one hand. He’d rolled up his sleeves, his muscular arms creating a beautiful memory instead of a wretched one. I concentrated on the open portion of his shirt, taking shallow breaths as I envisioned the time we’d spent together.

  “You fainted but you’re going to be all right. You have a cut on your hand, but I don’t think you need stitches.” He gave me a stern look before reaching into the water and lifting my arm. As he began to scrub, sliding the terrycloth up and down in a methodical manner, I realized this wasn’t the kind of behavior I could ever imagine.

  Not from a powerful leader.

  Not from a man who’d been purported to kill dozens.

  Not from the man who’d required full submission.

  I shivered, not from any chill but from the realization that I was still as insanely attracted to him as I’d been before. I was embarrassed that my pussy was quivering as much as my heart was racing. I couldn’t take my eyes off him as he carefully washed every inch of my arm, dipping the cloth into the water several times. The pink tinge of the bubbles was a clear reminder of the horrors I’d experienced.

  He shifted closer, rubbing the cloth down my neck, his hand disappearing into the water. As it brushed across my nipple, a moan slipped past my lips. Everything about him was far too enticing, but I’d done my research the day I’d seen his picture in the newspaper. Moving to Chicago had been the last objective in my mind given this was my father’s territory, but the opportunity to work with the Tribune had been far too lucrative to resist.

  That’s when I’d learned who Lorenzo truly was, his identity hitting me like a ton of bricks. I’d bedded a mobster, learning to surrender in a way I never had before. Since learning about the dangerous man he was, I’d been leery of my decisions regarding men, diving into my professional life.

  Investigative reporting had consumed me, my natural tendency to track down vicious criminals placing me in several precarious positions during the last two years.

  But none was so damning as the crime wave plaguing the city on an entirely different level than what the Francesco mob handled. The mafia family was pristine in their actions, sophisticated in their methods. While they were brutal in every manner, they chose their victims based on necessity instead of lording their power.

  Usually.

  I’d read every story and every report, knowing by instinct that so many were glorified bullshit. What reporter didn’t want to get close to the supremacy that the Francesco regime offered? I’d shied away on purpose, even though my boss had proposed on several occasions that I delve into various aspects of the family and their hold on Chicago.

  This was something else entirely.

  He slid his hand lower, his eyes raking over me provocatively. I could see the same kind of burning hunger in him as I had before, the electricity we’d shared brimming once again. I was terrified that I’d fall into his web, but this was my doing. I had to figure a way out. Was there any such thing?

  His breathing remained heavy as he moved the cloth to my other breast, his head dropping until his lips were dangerously close to mine. I wanted to reach out, but I knew better. I had to rid myself of everything involving this man. I was finally somewhat clearheaded, realizing I’d made two significant mistakes tonight.

  “I can do it,” I said quietly.

  He froze for a few seconds then jerked to a standing position, as if angry that I’d pushed him away. Huffing, he moved toward the door, not bothering to turn around when he spoke. “That’s fine, Sierra. All I have is a tee shirt and sweatpants for you to wear. I’m certain you’ll find those comfortable. I’ll have the clothes you came in washed. The bedroom is just outside this door. However, hear me. We will talk in the morning and Sierra, no more bullshit. You’re going to tell me everything. I’m not the kind of man to take this lightly.”

  “You’re threatening me?”

  “You obviously know who I am by now, so you realize the kind of man I am. Don’t fuck with me. You came to me because you have no other choice but to do so.”

  His words made me shiver all over again.

  He closed the door with a hard thud, the sound reverberating in my ears. I swallowed hard, sinking further into the water before reaching for the drain plug. I needed to wash away every inch of dirt and grime, including Lorenzo’s touch.

  Too bad the memories continued to flood into my mind.

  “Will I ever see you again?” I asked, knowing the answer.

  Lorenzo swept his hand over my cheek, his thumb rubbing back and forth across my lip. “Sierra, make no mistake. I own you. While we can’t be together at this point in time, there will come a day that I will have you and trust me, Sierra, you will never leave my sight again. You are my possession and when I do see you again, you will surrender to me body and soul. That is a promise I make to you and trust me, I always make good on my promises.”

  “Yes. Sir.”

  I’d never forget those words, but I’d known even then that I couldn’t lose myself in him. Not then. Not now.

  Not ever.

  Was fate intervening? I was sick at the thought. I was no man’s possession.

  I would never allow him to own me, use me.

  He was wrong. I could figure something out. I would. The promise made, I was determined to think of a story that sounded plausible. Somehow. Some way.

  I found the clothes on the massive king-sized bed and I was able to gather the scent of him; raw and masculine, the fragrance of the forest mixed with testosterone. I was shaking as I sat on the bed, angrier than ever with myself for coming here. It had been a reflex action and nothing more. I quickly jerked on the clothes, still shivering. Still furious.

  I bolstered my courage once again, moving toward the set of stairs, my grip on the bannister firm, even white-knuckled. I heard music coming from somewhere in the house. I knew Lorenzo lived alone, the five thousand square foot mansion befitting his stature but not the man I’d known four years before. Things changed. People changed. I certainly had. There was little of the person I remembered, his on-edge personality hard and cold. All businesslike.

  I could certainly be that way as well.

  I ventured down the stairs, studying the architecture as I headed toward the music. Every aspect of his house seemed surreal, expensive in detail but cold in design. Even his impressive kitchen held no life, stainless steel appliances and dark gray granite countertops devoid of any warmth.

  Or love.

  As I took careful steps down the hallway, passing by his office, I held my breath. The music was jazz, another surprise. How could such a brutal man enjoy something like this? When I walked into the doorway, I wasn’t expecting the change in décor. While the furniture was burnished leather, the entire room was warm and inviting, the fire in the stone fireplace giving me a smile. Even the art on the wall was seductive in nature, bold reds and yellows, depicting scenes of an erotic
nature taking my breath.

  I hadn’t realized I’d walked in until I felt his presence.

  “Why are you awake? Is there something wrong?” he asked casually, the demanding tone missing.

  “Nothing is wrong. I just wanted you to know that I’ll get out of your hair in the morning. I appreciate your hospitality, but I definitely shouldn’t have come here.”

  He studied me as someone would a specimen, lifting a single eyebrow. “Why were you handling an investigation by yourself in the middle of the night?”

  “Because I was onto something. I had a story.”

  The near arrogance returned as he walked closer. “I took the liberty of doing some research while you were finishing your bath.”

  “O-kay.”

  “You are an award-winning criminal investigative reporter with a solid reputation, including getting yourself in difficult situations.”

  “I’m very proud of my work.”

  “I can tell. However, whatever you’ve gotten yourself in the middle of has certainly placed you in danger.” His eyes were burning as he inched even closer, the electricity soaring between us. “Your father is David Fox, a veteran FBI agent.”

  Of course, I’d realized he would make the connection. My father had set his sights on taking down the Francesco family years before. “Yes. What does that have to do with anything?”

  “You mean other than trust? As I told you before, I’m not a good man, Sierra, and I certainly don’t appreciate whatever game you’re playing.”

  “I’m not playing a game!” I heard the shrill sound in my voice, the utter conviction. How dare he question me?

  Because you’re asking for a mobster’s help.

  He inhaled deeply, shaking his head. “Are you aware of who was murdered tonight in a back alley in Fuller Park?”

  “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “I think you do,” he said in a hushed voice. “In fact, my belief is that the man you witnessed being murdered was the very same person.”

  “I didn’t catch his real name as he was writhing on the pavement. He was my informant and I knew little about him. I ran, getting as far away as I could.” Lorenzo was so damn accusatory.