by J. L. Beck
Curling my lip, I direct my attention to Lucca. “What is it?”
“You didn’t answer your phone.”
“I’m fucking busy, and I told you that I was taking the rest of the day off.”
Lucca doesn’t flinch at my harsh tone. He’s been conditioned for violence, pain, for a world that most wouldn’t survive in.
“I know, and I apologize, but you’d kick my ass if I didn’t tell you that I got word on Lev. He took the bait for the girl and arranged for the services to be completed tonight. He’ll be at the hotel at nine o’clock. It’s tonight, or we have to wait and set something up.”
I wasn’t a patient man, and even more impatient when I wanted to spill blood. I wouldn’t let Lev slip through my fingers. I couldn’t.
“Fuck.”
I really didn’t want to ruin this evening with Elena, but I didn’t have an option. Lev was going to die for fucking with what was mine.
“I’ll be ready, good work.”
“Of course, sir.” Lucca nods.
Dismissing him, I took a moment to gather my own thoughts while leaning against the railing. Killing Lev may cause problems, but it was going to prove a point as well. Word would spread through the mob families that I had killed someone for touching what was mine.
It would bring good and bad with it. Some would fear me further, and others would see Elena as my one true weakness. On top of that, I’m not sure how Lev is with his father, who might retaliate.
Deep down, it would be worth it. Where Elena was concerned, it was always worth it. She was opening my eyes to things. Before her, I saw everything in black and white, and though parts of my life would always be seen that way, the parts with her in it were slowly becoming colored.
Walking back to the table, I find Elena sipping her lemonade. She smiles when she sees me and shifts in her seat.
“Are you cold? We can go inside and eat?”
“No, no. I want to eat outside.”
Grabbing her plate, I take the top off the trays and find little sandwiches, bowls of fruit, crackers and cheese, and vegetables with dip. I fill Elena’s plate and give it back to her, trying not to let the information I just discovered cloud this time with her.
“Is everything okay?” she asks, popping a grape into her mouth.
“Everything is fine,” I reply a little gruffer than I intended to.
Elena flinches at my tone, and I take a gulp of lemonade to stop myself from apologizing. We eat mostly in silence, and when it looks like Elena can’t eat another morsel of food, I get up from my seat and offer her my hand.
I don’t have much more time to spend with her before I leave, so I’ll make up for my sour mood with something more.
Guiding us up the stairs, Elena digs her heels into the floor when we reach the top step. It’s obvious she doesn’t want to go back into the bedroom, and I can’t really blame her, but we’re not married yet, and I don’t quite trust her to stay put.
“What other rooms are on this floor?” she asks, peering up at me curiously.
“Most are guest bedrooms. There is a bathroom, the library which you already know about, and my office.”
Her eyes light up when I say my office.
“Can I see it? Your office?”
“I guess, but it’s nothing special.”
Her curiosity is almost laughable. I’ve never met someone who asks so many questions. Normally, I would be annoyed, but with her, it’s refreshing.
Walking a few more feet down the hall, I stop at the door to my office, retrieve a key from my pocket, and unlock the it. The door creaks as I push it open, and Elena releases my hand, walking inside all on her own.
A smile curves at her lips, and her bare feet slap against the tile. Her fingers run along the edge of my desk, and over the armchair, Markus usually lounges in.
“This is where you are when you’re working?”
“As of lately, yes, but sometimes I have to go places, and handle business.” And by handle business, I mean murder and hurt people.
She nods, and her eyes fall onto the huge window overlooking the front yard. Walking into the room, I come to stand beside her.
“This is the best view in the entire house,” she says.
“I thought you loved the terrace the most?” I poke fun at her.
“I do, maybe someday, you’ll let me walk the entire estate.”
“Maybe, but it won’t be without me by your side.”
I let her stare out the window a little while longer, and then we leave the room. I lock the door behind me and pocket the key.
“Why do you lock the door if it’s just an office?”
“Because I trust no one.”
Back in the bedroom, Elena’s mood seems to change. She becomes shy, and I’m puzzled by the sudden change in her demeanor. Was it something I said? Tugging at the string on her bikini, she saunters toward me, her shapely hips swaying with the movement.
The fabric slides down her chest, leaving her perky breasts on display. A growl builds in my throat, and I clench my hands into fists to stop myself from dragging her panties down her legs and fucking her senseless.
White teeth sink into her bottom lip, and fuck, she looks hot and naive, and so fucking sweet. I want to dirty her up, crack her open, and see what makes her tick.
Her damp, dark locks cascade down her back in soft ringlets, her smooth skin is creamy and begging to be licked. She’s a damn goddess, a queen.
“I want you.” She bats her eyes softly.
“Is that right?”
She nods. “Yes. I want…” Her fingers slide into the bottoms of her bathing suit, and I swallow my tongue. There isn’t any way in hell, she is asking me what I think she is. The bottoms hit the floor, and though there is no sound, the mere action is like a bomb being dropped on top of me.
“I want to have sex.”
Shoving from my seated position, I feel the need to get up and move because if I don’t, I won’t hesitate to take her up on her offer.
“Why wait until after the wedding, I mean… I don’t care if you don’t care. We’ve already done… stuff.”
She’s looking at me like I’m her world, and it’s exactly what I’ve wanted to see, hoped to see even, and the fact that I’m going to have to wipe that look from her face angers me. There is no way I can give her what she needs right now.
“I don’t have time for this, and I don’t have the patience either, not today. I have somewhere else to be.”
Why the hell does she have this thought today of all fucking days? I would have gladly done this yesterday, and I would definitely do it tomorrow, but not tonight. My need to kill Lev outweighs my need for sex, even if it’s sex with her.
I glance at her face, disappointment, and rejection seeping into each pore. I can’t take seeing her like this, it guts me. She is hurt, I hurt her.
Quickly, I disappear into the closet and pull on some dry clothes. I need to leave, get out of here fast before I change my mind.
Without another word or a second glance, I walk through the bedroom and out the door, locking it behind me.
With my gun in one hand and the key card in the other, I stand in front of the hotel room Lev is in. His slimy voice clearly carries through the thin door, and the blood in my veins reaches a new boiling point. All I can see is Elena’s tear-stained cheeks and the fear in her eyes. He hurt her, and now I’m here to hurt him.
I slide the card, push the door open, and step in with my gun raised all in one fluid move. Lev turns to me, looking shocked as hell while the girl we hired looks relieved to see me.
“This is a mistake, Moretti. You’re making a mistake.”
“You can go now, Lola.” At my words, Lev turns pale, his beady eyes go wide, and I know he’s quickly putting one and one together.
“Thank fuck, this guy is a real creep.” The girl snatches her purse and climbs over the bed instead of walking by Lev to get out. She squeezes past me and scurries out of the room, clo
sing the door on her way.
Alone at last.
“You gotta be kidding me?”
“Funny, that’s what I thought when I heard that you touched something that belongs to me. I know your stupid, but I didn’t know you were this dumb.”
Lev tips his head back and laughs into the quiet room.
“So, let me get this right. You left a half-naked girl sitting at a bar at a flesh auction, and it’s my fucking fault that she was eye-fucking me? It’s not my fault your whore can’t keep her hands off of me. That she wanted my cock.”
Aiming the gun at his kneecap, I pull the trigger. The faint smell of gunpowder wafts into my nose as the bullet flies through the air and hits its target precisely where I intended. A scream that is pure bliss to my ears rips from Lev’s throat as he immediately sags to the floor and cries out in pain, grabbing his leg.
“You fucking asshole!” he groans while rolling to his side. “You’re gonna die, you bastard! You’re gonna die! Everyone is after you anyway!”
What just said makes me pause, but only briefly.
“Who is after me?”
He curls his lip, giving me a half-smile. “Everyone! Romero put out a hit on your ass. Ten million. And to sweeten the pot, he’s giving away the whore with it. Hope you didn’t use her up, ’cause I’m sure looking forward to–”
I don’t blink. I don’t even think. Lifting my gun, my finger presses against the trigger, and the bullet leaves the chamber, hitting him right between the eyes, shutting him up for good.
His body stills, his eyes go blank, and blood puddles around his head. I meant to make this painful, draw it out, and watch him suffer, but what he revealed to me changes things.
It means the timeline just got moved up.
23
Elena
The key seems to weigh ten pounds in my hand. I’ve been pacing the bedroom for hours trying to decide what to do. I thought Julian and I were getting closer, I thought there could really be something between us, but after today, I’m not sure about anything.
Nothing makes sense. None of his actions line up. He buys me, he touches me, then rejects me in the next instance. Something more is going on, and I can’t be stuck in this room any longer doing nothing. What if my father was telling the truth? Julian could be out there killing my father, and then come home to finish the job.
Or maybe Julian simply doesn’t want to have sex with me. He mentioned before that he doesn’t think I can handle him, handle his sinister needs. What if he went to have sex with someone who can?
Both theories have me in knots. Every thought is worse than the next, and I don’t want to believe either theory is true, but what am I supposed to think? Is there even a third option, and would that one be any better? I wish I could call my father. I think if I could talk to him freely, he would tell me the truth, tell me what is really going on. Julian won’t allow that, and even if by a miracle, he would agree, it would be under supervision, and my father would never tell me what I want to know with Julian hovering over me.
Then a thought occurs to me. Maybe I could sneak out and find a phone. I think there’s one in the kitchen. I saw one of the maids talking on the phone before, and it looked to be a landline. I mean there has to be a phone in this house somewhere.
Looking out the window, I see the orange bursts of light on the horizon.
It’s now or never.
Running into the closet, I find a pair of sneakers and slip into them. My heart is racing as I cross the bedroom and stop in front of the door. Bringing the key to the lock, I briefly wonder if it will even work? I still don’t understand how my father could have gotten ahold of this.
All my doubt dissipates when the key slides into the lock with ease. I turn it and listen to the lock disengage. My lungs burn as I hold my breath. Twisting the brass knob, I slowly pull the door open. There is a small squeaking sound, but in the early morning hours and the quiet hallway, it seems extremely loud.
This feels like a dream. Like at any second, I’m going to be shaken awake and find that I was only hoping the key had worked, and that I was free of the bedroom.
Sticking my head out the door, I peek into the hallway to make sure no one is coming from either side. I wait for a few more moments, using the time to gather up all my courage. When there is still nothing but silence, I step out and pull the door closed behind me.
On tippy-toes, I move through the semi-dark hallways. The house is huge, but I’ve paid enough attention to know my way around by now.
I make it into the kitchen without hearing or seeing anything, which makes me wonder if I could be truly alone. Like a needle popping a balloon, that thought bursts from my head when I hear two male voices carry through the house.
Panic claws at me, threatening to petrify my limbs, but I force them to move. Pushing past the fear, I do my best to keep my breathing even and hide behind the kitchen’s butcher’s block… how fitting since that’s where I’m going to be if they catch me.
For the first time tonight, I’m thinking about the repercussions I could face. What will happen if I’m caught, and why the hell didn’t I think this through? Will Julian hurt me? He hasn’t, but I’ve also been listening to him. He threatens me repeatedly but says as long as I obey, I won’t be harmed.
As the voices come closer, my fear rises exponentially. Curling myself up into a ball, I wish the ground would swallow me. With each passing second, the men grow closer, until they are close enough for me to make out what they are saying.
“I wonder why the boss moved the timeline up?”
“I guess he can’t wait to see the Romero family dead and gone.”
No! It can’t be. My heart stills within my chest, and the beating is replaced by a deep ache. Closing my eyes, I will the tears away, wishing I would have just stayed in the room. Ignorance is bliss, I suppose. I don’t know why I thought things were different. Maybe because of how caring he’s been? I think back to the way he cared for me after the auction and gave me a chance to spend time outside.
I listen to the men’s footsteps as they pass the kitchen and continue walking down the hall, in the direction that I just came.
When everything is quiet once more, and I’m sure they are gone, I pop up and out of my hiding spot, surveying the area. The kitchen is clean, immaculate even, and worst of all, I don’t see a phone.
Shit.
Now, more than ever, I need to speak to my father. I need to warn him, and if I can’t call him, that means I have to get out of here to warm him.
Rushing over to the terrace door, I unlock it and slide it open just enough for my body to squeeze through. Crisp morning air fills my lungs, and for a split second, I actually feel free.
“Going somewhere?” Julian’s sinister voice meets my ears. His tone dark and restrained, promising a world of hurt. A hand wraps around my heart. Squeezing my eyes shut, I curse myself for being so stupid for thinking I could actually get away.
Slowly, I turn to face him. The devil, that’s what he looks like. Seconds away from pulling the rug right out from under my feet. I have to think… I have to. Swallowing thickly, an apology sits heavily on my tongue, but I can’t suck in enough air to form the words.
“You look like you’re scared that I’m gonna kill you now.”
Isn’t he? Isn’t this the whole point? My family dead, including me. There’s a giant lump in my throat that won’t let a single word pass, but apparently, my legs are still working because in the next moment, my fight or flight response kick in. My subconscious chooses flight, and before I can stop myself, I’m on the run.
Pushing my legs as fast as I can, I dash past him and across the terrace. Hoping that my shorter legs are at least faster than Julian’s, I run down the marble stairs, which are wet with morning dew. When there are only three steps left, I jump over them, my heels sinking into the soft grass before I take off on another sprint.
I think maybe I have a chance, but I don’t. Not against Julian. I make it
about five more feet before his chest bumps into my back, his thick arms circling around me. One moment I’m running, and the next, I’m in the air, headed straight for the ground.
Somehow, he manages to turn us both mid-fall, so I land on top of him instead of the other way around, but the impact alone knocks the air from my lungs.
By the time I’m able to suck a breath into my lungs again, I’m pulled off the ground like a doll and thrown over Julian’s shoulder.
“You really shouldn’t have done that,” he growls as he trudges through the grass and back to the house. I don’t even fight him, there is no hope, no point.
Burying my fingers into the back of his shirt, I grip the fabric like it’s a life raft, hoping that whatever he has planned for me is going to be quick and painless.
Ha, wishful thinking.
Julian doesn’t stop or even talk as he walks through the house, and I think that’s the scariest part of all. His silence. It’s the calm before the storm because I know what happens next.
He punishes me, or maybe even kills me?
Reaching the bedroom door, I feel myself start to shake. He pushes the door open with his foot and strides into the room, depositing me on the mattress. As soon as my back hits the sheets, I scurry backward.
Julian isn’t having it though and grabs me by the ankle, tugging me back to him. I kick and lash out the best I can, but I’m easily subdued by his strength.
Leaning into my face, I can see the betrayal in his eyes. The dark, bleak orbs burn with barely restrained rage.
“Did you really think you could make it off this property without me finding you? Huh? How did you get out of the room? Who helped you? Marie? Did she give you a key?”
Immediately, a different kind of fear fills me. If he hurts her, I don’t know what I’ll do.
“What? No! No, Marie did nothing, I swear!”
“Who then?”
“My father. He sent a woman to the bathroom at the auction. She gave me a key, I put it in my bra and hid it...”