by Rowena
“Leverage!” I suddenly cry it out as it hits me out of nowhere.
Crap, that was too excited. Did I screw this up?
Glancing at him, covertly using my hair as a cover, I see the surprise on his face.
His eyes narrow, and for a moment, I’m sure the gig is up.
He’s on to me, and I pretty much jumped from the frying pan into the fire.
My heart races in my chest and my lungs scream for air but I’m afraid to breathe, afraid to make any motion that will dig the hole any deeper.
“Well,” Donnie says at last, and I’m still hanging on a cliff’s edge, waiting for him to reveal his thoughts. “That is most unfortunate for you. Luckily, my friends and I were there to save you.”
He looks at Francesca behind me.
I don’t know what she does but he shakes his head just slightly. He frowns and these fine lines furrow his brow, adding depth and character to his face, which I find oddly attractive.
“Yeah, I really appreciate it,” I say.
“Yes, I’m sure you do,” he says, leaning back in his chair.
Minutes tick by in silence.
No one says a thing; no one moves.
My butt and hands are completely numb now.
I shift in the chair, trying to find a spot that is less uncomfortable while the minutes continue to tick by.
“So?” I ask, unable to take the silence any longer.
“I need to speak with my associates for a moment,” Donnie says, standing up.
The chair creaks as he gets to his feet, then he walks around the desk.
Alex falls in behind Donnie.
The door to the office opens and then shuts behind them.
It’s thin glass, so despite the barrier, I hear them clearly.
“Do you believe her?” Alex asks, and Francesca snorts.
“I do,” Donnie says.
“Are you kidding me? This is the worst possible timing,” Francesca says.
“It is,” Donnie agrees. “Too much is at stake right now to let her go. How important was she to them? Did those men recognize one of us? Does Emilio know we have her? If we let her go and they… apply pressure… No, we must keep her safe until the plans are complete.”
“This is stupid,” Alex says.
“Perhaps, but we’re too far in now to turn back,” Donnie says.
“What do you want us to do?” Francesca asks.
“Alex, I need you to hit the surveillance. We need to know what’s going on at their compound. Are they locking down? Are they preparing for an assault? We need to know if they know we have her.”
“Sure,” Alex says. “How about we just kick the hornet’s nest before we remove it? It’s such a grand plan to stir shit before you make a move.”
“Your thoughts and opinions are noted, Alex,” Donnie replies, his voice level.
I’m surprised by the way Alex speaks to him.
If one of my father’s men did that, he’d be dead.
Even my father’s most trusted advisers speak carefully when talking to him.
Is this the Donnie that I’ve heard my father complaining about?
This is too organized, too many cogs to be a low-level street operation. Could my luck have actually delivered me into the hands of my father’s greatest enemy?
“I don’t disagree with him,” Francesca says. “Your big heart will be the death of all of us.”
“Duly noted,” Donnie says. “I need you on the streets. Get our crews spread out and hit up every informant we have. Spread cash and find out if there’s any word about who she is or why they thought she was important enough to use for leverage.”
“Fine,” Francesca says. “Just remember I told you so when this shit goes sideways.”
“I’m sure you won’t let me forget it if that’s the case,” Donnie says.
The door to the office opens.
I shift in the chair, unsuccessfully still trying to find a way to sit that keeps the pressure off my ass and my hands at the same time.
Donnie’s footsteps scrape on the concrete floor.
He comes closer and closer then passes around me.
He moves behind the desk and I look up at him with parts of my hair hanging over my face and tears staining my cheeks.
“Well?” I ask.
He doesn’t speak as he reaches down then pulls a drawer open.
He reaches in and pulls out a gun.
It’s shiny—bright silver with a massive barrel and a dark hole at the end of it that passes across my field of vision as he raises it then drops it to his side.
My heart goes into triple-time beats and my breathing becomes ragged gasps.
He taps the gun against his leg while looking at me, and I stare into his blue eyes, begging without saying a word.
My throat is swollen shut, and I don’t think I could force a sound past the lump.
One step; he moves from behind the desk, that massive metal death-bringer in his hand, still tapping his leg.
Two steps; he’s beside the desk and all I can see is the shine of the silver reflecting the dim fluorescent light of the office.
“No,” I beg. It comes out as a squeak.
It can’t end like this. I’m so close to being free—finally free. I’ve dreamed since I was a little girl of escaping the clutches of my father.
I thought I’d made it—all I had to do was negotiate my way out of here and then the world was open to me. I could disappear and never see any of this life again.
Donnie’s beside me now.
The gun is out of sight on the other side.
I can hear it tapping his leg—a soft sound, barely discernible, but the adrenaline pumping through my body is making every sense operate on overload. The smell of gun oil is strong in my nostrils, to the point of being nauseating. My head is spinning, the dim light is blinding, the tap of the gun is too much to bear.
He’s behind me.
I brace myself.
This is the end. I know it. It’s all over and there’s not a damned thing I can do about it.
He grabs my left arm roughly, pulls it back.
Unsatisfied for whatever reason I don’t comprehend, the hand with the gun in it presses hard into the middle of my back forcing me forward.
The hard, unforgiving metal digs into my spine.
I want to scream but only a whimper escapes my lips.
The gun is off my back.
I’m still bent in half.
Bile rises in my throat; I’m going to be sick.
Tears fall from my eyes to the concrete floor, making small stains in the layers of dust and grime.
Everything slows.
I hear the gun cocking, the hammer pulling back like it happens one click at a time.
I’m sorry, Tommy. I tried.
I scream as the shot reverberates around the room.
It’s loud—so loud all I hear is a ringing in my ears.
Goddamnit, he missed and now I have to go through this again.
How did he miss when he was so close?
I’m breathing so fast that I’m hyperventilating.
My vision is gray at the edges; I’m passing out.
I bring my hands up to my face and sob into them.
Then it hits me—my hands. My hands are free.
He didn’t miss—he shot the chain off the cuffs.
He wasn’t bending me in half to make a head shot, he was moving me so that he could shoot the cuffs without hitting me.
A dry heave grips me as the adrenaline shooting through my body slows down, and the tears stream harder.
Pulling myself together, I inhale deeply then rub my wrists.
The bracelets are still pinching tight, but I can move my arms and my shoulders.
I cry out in relief.
I wipe away my tears as I sit up straight, then push my hair back as I take another shaky breath.
I’m alive. I’ve made it this far.
I stand, wiping my face again, t
rying to make myself presentable to some degree before I turn around.
After doing the best I can with my face, I finally turn to face Donnie.
Donnie’s stunning eyes lock onto me, and my heart stops for a different reason. Some primal part of me wants to jump into his arms. I can almost feel the strength of him as he grips me by my waist tightly. Wetness leaks from me as I consider it, and my cheeks flush with heat.
I want to smash my lips into his, I want his rock hard cock pressing against me then thrusting…
“I can’t let you go,” he says. “You won’t be safe right now.”
“You… uh, sorry, what?” I shake my head and try to focus on what he’s saying.
“I can’t let you go,” he repeats.
“Oh, you can’t? Why is that exactly? I don’t know anything.”
“Don’t you?” he asks, smiling in a way that sends another surge of desire through me.
Obviously, playing coy with him isn’t going to work. He’s not going to buy it, and I can barely keep my thoughts straight when I look into his eyes.
Besides, he’s right.
I have no idea how many men my father will have out looking for me, but I’m sure he’ll send some; he’s not going to let anyone take his little girl. I wish I thought it was because he cared about me and what happened to me, but I know better. He won’t let anyone take me because I’m his. No one takes what’s his.
“I guess I do,” I say, and he smiles again, making the inside of my chest flutter.
Christ.
“So, you know you’re in danger,” he says. “Stay here with me and I’ll assure that no harm befalls you. My men and I will keep you safe.”
“I don’t have much of a choice, do I?”
“I’m afraid not,” he says.
“Well, then. Let’s make the best of it, right?” I say with a smile.
He nods almost imperceptibly.
“Come on, I’ll show you to where you can sleep.”
5
Donnie
The girl walks past me and I catch a hint of her perfume. It’s the light scent of flowers in bloom.
It’s very pleasing, and for just a moment, my eyes roam over her, seeing her in a different light.
She’s pretty—really pretty—with a nice body as well. The kind of body a man could spend a long time exploring, getting to know better. If I was a different man, and she was a different girl, and we’d met under better circumstances, I’d be happy to indulge.
But as it is right now, she’s a problem. Everything is at risk because of her. She’s the unplanned for, unforeseen factor that can destroy an empire if not handled exactly right, a walking time bomb that could destroy everything.
I point toward the steps to the upstairs and she takes them.
Her ass sways in front of my face and I look—of course I do; it’s a nice ass and I’m a man.
Looking is it, though—nothing more can happen.
“So are you, like, a mobster too?” she asks.
“No,” I answer. “That would be illegal.”
She walks on in silence.
Is she a trap? Was she sent here as bait to see if I’d take it? What does she know? What could she reveal about us? About me?
We reach the landing and she waits for me.
“Go through that door,” I say.
She opens the door and enters the hallway on the opposite side.
The hall is short with four doors spaced along either side and one at the end. I point to it and she walks ahead.
Is she putting an extra sway in her hips? If she is, then she’s bait for sure. All the more reason I can’t let myself get involved.
This is the worst time for this to happen.
“So, I have to stay here?” she asks, looking around in dismay.
I can’t say I blame her—the place is filthy—but I can’t take her to my home. I’ve got my entire family on high alert because of the deal I’m working with Emilio. Adding her into the mix makes it volatile; she’s all the provocation he’d need to go to open war. The look in Emilio’s eyes when he gripped my hand and warned me of the consequences of anything going wrong…
Damn it, I should have left her.
I could send her out now, leave her to her fate.
I could, but I won’t. Call it a flaw.
I won’t be an animal like others, like Emilio Baldini. I’m better than that.
“For now, until I can find some place safe for you.”
“Why are you doing this?” she asks as she walks through the door.
I stop in the doorway and lean against the frame.
This room, like the others, is a bunk room.
Four metal-framed bunk beds with thin mattresses jut out from opposite walls.
There’s a dresser beside each one and a sink at the far end of the room.
It’s a room meant to house eight men when we’re in a dangerous situation—when we ‘hit the mattresses’ as they’d say.
I’ll lock this one down just for her.
“Honestly?” I ask.
She turns and stares into my eyes.
She has warm hazel eyes with gold flecks in them. I like them.
She bites her lip, chewing on it before speaking, and I wrestle my thoughts away from other ways to preoccupy those lips.
I wait for her to answer me, but instead of saying anything, she gives me a nod after a long wait.
“I don’t know,” I answer her truthfully. “I have a weakness for strays.”
“I’m not a stray,” she replies.
“Aren’t you? You show up out of nowhere, in danger, needing to be saved…”
“I had that situation under control,” she says defensively.
I almost laugh.
“Right. Handcuffed, a bag over your head, but you had it all under control.”
“I had a plan,” she says, but I hear the edge of a whine in her voice.
I smile and wait for her to admit the truth; there’s no need to flaunt it in her face. I’m not crude like that.
She shifts from foot to foot and her mouth opens to say something but then snaps shut.
Her shoulders slump. “Okay, yeah, I was totally screwed. Thank you,” she says.
I can’t help smiling more.
She’s cute and I like the way she owns the room.
I cross my waist with my left arm and give her a half bow, flourishing with my right, while keeping my eyes on hers.
The look that comes over her face is almost enough to break my heart.
Her eyes immediately water, flashing brightly, and I’ve never seen anyone look so sad before.
I want to take her in my arms and comfort her but that’s stupid. Beyond stupid—that’s inviting suicide.
This is bad; I can’t let this random girl into my emotions.
I need to get out of here.
“Good and you’re welcome. The restroom and shower are this way,” I say, turning to indicate. “I’ll make sure the boys know this dorm is for you only so you won’t have to worry about unwelcome guests. The shower and bathroom are shared, unfortunately.”
“This is like being back in college,” she says lightly.
“You went to school?” I ask, opening the door to the shared restroom and shower.
She peeks her head in and looks around.
“Yeah,” she says absently.
Nothing up here is nice. It’s not intended for comfort, and the boys don’t bother with cleaning on any kind of a regular basis.
If I’m being blunt, the place is disgusting, but it’s what I have available. I can’t let anyone on the street know she’s with us. Things are too precarious.
It’s taken years for me to move everything into place for my plans and I can’t allow this girl to throw a wrench into them.
“I know it’s not nice but this is temporary.”
“It’s fine,” she says, shrugging.
“Good, are you hungry?”
“Yes!” she repli
es enthusiastically. “I feel like I haven’t eaten in days.”
“Come downstairs. I’ll have some food brought to us,” I say, heading down.
She follows along behind me.
She’s taking this surprisingly well.
Is she taking it too well?
If she’s a plant from the Baldini, would she balk at the quarters?
I’m overthinking it.
Relax, I tell myself. You’re doing the right thing.
“ Simon,” I call when I’m halfway down the stairs.
He steps out of the shadows, carrying his gun at ease in front of him.
The girl jumps behind me.
“Can you send out for our dinner, please? Miss… ”
Only then do I realize I don’t know her name.
I turn toward her, arching an eyebrow.
She smiles and shrugs.
“I don’t know your name?” I say wondrously.
Stupid of me. Simple thing, names. How did I let such a thing slip past me? How is it I don’t know her name?
“Bella,” she says, but I wait for her surname. She shifts her weight and isn’t meeting my eyes. “Fletcher.”
“Ah, of course. Simon, would you get dinner for Miss Fletcher and myself?” I ask.
“Yes, sir,” he says and then fades back into the shadows.
My phone rings as I step off the stairs.
I retrieve it from the inside pocket of my jacket, and when I glance at the screen, I see it’s my brother, Maxwell.
“Max?” I answer.
“Yeah,” he says. “There’s nothing unusual.”
“You’re sure?” I ask.
“Beyond sure,” he says. “Also, they’ve started operations at the warehouse.”
“What?” I can’t keep surprise out of my voice.
Bella looks curious so I walk a few feet away from her.
She wanders over to some of the shelves that still have old parts on them and starts rummaging.
“Yeah, they’re up and running already,” Max says.
“Did they find our taps?” I ask.
“No, it’s all secure. We have eyes on everything they do.”
“Doesn’t that seem odd?”
“No. Why would it?”
“Would we ever take a place over and not have it thoroughly swept?”
“No, and they did check—their guys just suck. They’re moving heroin in there. Crates of it.”