Imperfect Forgery: (A Dark Romantic Suspense)

by G. D. Madsen

  "Fuck! How many?" His outburst startles me, the tone too close to the one that called me a slut only a week earlier, and I cannot help but flinch. "No, love, I didn't mean... I swear, I am not mad at you. This was never your fault. But, please, I need you to tell me the truth. How many corrupt bastards infest this city?"

  My gaze drops to the cup again. "Six, before I turned eighteen."

  I remember every one of them; my skin still crawls from their touches, my body still shivers from every agonizing thrust, my stomach turns whenever the sound of them, grunting above me, replays itself in my head. I wish I could forget these degrading minutes; I would scrape my skin till it bleeds if it helped to erase those men touching me, but they will remain imprinted on me forever, just like the last one. "Seven total, including the man from the auction."

  Of course, this number is too little to grant significant power. David appears to be thinking the same when I dare to glance at him. Is he wondering if I would try to hide the real number?

  I'm not. Because there is something that he fails to apprehend. "Not all of them were into girls."

  David's eyes double in size. "Mauro?"

  I nod, barbed wire wrapped around my heart with the memory of Mauro's sobs, years before I was equally crying.

  "There were times I failed too. When that happened, Silvio would teach me by stripping me naked and tying my wrists with rope. He would pull the rope up until my tiptoes barely reached the floor. He'd leave me like this until all blood drained from my arms and I was almost fainting. Silvio would then untie me for the culmination of the lesson, as he would call it. He would pull me to his lap and caress my body, and I would..." Tears stream down my face, and I wish they could wash my sins to cleanse me for the man I love, but I am forever dirty and perverted.

  "And you would come?" David guesses. I nod, unable to meet his eyes, ashamed of the part of me that will never seize to crave those post-punishment caresses, despite all the horror related to them.

  "It was only a physical reaction," he adds, but it's no more than a beautiful lie. I know it, and so does David. "I told you; I will do anything to erase his image. I will do whatever it takes until it is only my face and body you connect with every form of sex!"

  "Then take me upstairs," I say, teeth scraping my lips, as I attempt to push aside the idea that he might not want to touch me. "Make love to me. Gently, slowly, let me melt in your arms. Make me crave this with you. Please..."

  "But your wounds are still..." David turns silent. He understands now.

  Yes, it will hurt no matter how gentle he is, and that is precisely what might erase those twisted desires Silvio planted in my head.

  I desperately need David to erase Silvio forever.

  Chapter 19

  Kahina

  David pulls Lea's blue top over my head slowly, hesitantly almost.

  Is it my bruised body that repels him, or my bruised mind?

  I am not sure. I am not certain I want to know. God, I'm afraid to find out, but David must sense something because he pauses, the blouse still in his hand.

  "Talk to me, love." He hooks his index finger under my chin and lifts it slightly, his thumb trailing my lower lip.

  I am standing half-naked in front of a man, and it is not my nudity, but the softest touch of his finger brushing my lip that sends sparks, igniting my body and driving my hesitations into the shadows again.

  "No more secrets," he smiles.

  And with those words, the sparks turn to ashes. The secret I kept ever since David answered the phone is now floating in the space between us, in the worst moment possible, but if I ignore the truth any longer, I am afraid I will suffocate.

  David tosses the top on the bed and glides his fingers through my hair to the back of my head. "Trust me, please."

  I did. I trusted him with my life, but David built a wall of suspicions between us, and those bricks nearly crushed me.

  Despite what he tells me, will those blue eyes, searching mine for answers, cloud with fury after I admit our acquaintance was not exactly accidental? Maybe I should remain silent, but lies cannot feed love, they can only destroy it.

  No more secrets...

  "I lied about the first phone call," I whisper, wrapping my arms around my chest, shivering despite sunlight heating my back.

  The look in David's eyes matches the frost creeping up my spine.

  "I didn't mean to call you, I swear. I indeed was trying to reach Mauro, but dialing your number was not a random accident. I knew every digit by heart."

  "What do you mean?" David sits on the bed – far enough not to touch me.

  The frost spreads through the room, painting the windows and walls dark red, creeping up toward the door, threatening to cut me off from the only escape option.

  "Don't you dare." David jumps to his feet, his grip iron-cladding my shoulders before I make a move. "You are not leaving this room until you tell me everything! What did you mean about knowing my number? How?"

  My gaze fixates on his chest, on the rapidly pulsing spot, but the image turns blurry in no time. "I saw it in one of the papers on Silvio's desk."

  A tear lands on my upper lip, and I lick it off.

  I am back in the devil's office, my nails scraping the hardwood of his desk, papers that Silvio never bothered concealing from me scattered across the surface, wet with tears flopping down while I chew my lips to suppress my cries from charging into the darkened room.

  "One night he summoned me to his office to tell me about the new forgery I had to make, but wouldn't allow me to leave before giving me the taste of what would happen if I failed. When he… When I... I mean..."

  The grip on my shoulders loosens. "When he raped you..." David suggests, his voice hoarse.

  I shake my head, still unable to look at the man. "No, not when – while. I was desperate for something to help me switch my mind off, but the room was too dark, the curtains were drawn, and only the dim light illuminated part of the desktop. My eyes located some papers under the table lamp, and amid all the text that was too blurry for me to see, I spotted a phone number. I kept repeating each digit in my head thrust after thrust, so I wouldn't center on the burning pain."

  By the time I finish the sentence, my whole body is trembling. David's arms slide to my back, and I bury my face in the soft fabrics of his shirt, my arms still limp at my sides. "I swear, I had no idea who you were," I mumble into his chest. "At first I panicked, believing I called one of Silvio's associates, I intended to hang up, but then your voice... You sounded hurt, and the more we talked, the less I thought of Silvio, or Mauro, or every other moment of that day."

  "You made me forget." David repeats the words I told him that night. "Why didn't you tell me earlier?" He steps aside.

  "Would you have believed me?" I am unable to hide the reproaching note of my question.

  "Probably not," he answers with a sigh, turning his back to me. "Last weekend I behaved like a total ass. My rage almost killed you."

  "Yes, it almost did," I say, taking his hand in mine and pressing my forehead to his back. "That night was the most horrible night of my life, and not because of Silvio or Mauro. I wanted to die more than ever because the throbbing pain in my chest was unbearable. Knowing you despised me hurt more than years of torture combined, but if I keep blaming you, I will never truly escape that damn basement. Maybe you don't deserve it, but I forgive you because I deserve a new start, and I could never imagine it without you."

  He pivots around with my last words and engulfs me with his entire body, his warmth sieving through the pores of my bare skin, despite his soft shirt separating our bodies.

  "Just one last detail; if you doubt me again, I will strangle you in your sleep."

  David cracks up laughing. "I have a better idea. If I ever doubt you, you are more than welcome to cut my throat with the dagger that my grandfather made for me years ago. It may be child-size but it sure as hell is sharp. Just like your tongue."

  Our lips crash togethe
r, the tension melting inside the kiss enough for a startling revelation to choke me. "The number..." I gasp in between kisses. "He already knew who you were. And your phone... He will track it..."

  "It's okay, baby," David murmurs against my lips, unwilling to let go. "I never got my phone replaced after smashing it, and last weekend I turned it off as soon as you got into my car outside your apartment. I have a different one to reach my friends. Forget about him. That bastard will never lay his dirty hands on you again! You are mine, and mine alone. Only I get to kiss you."

  "Only you," I whisper against his lips.

  "Only I get to touch you." His fingers tangle inside my short curls and turn into fists. "Say it," he commands, yanking my head back.

  "Only you..." I grip his shoulders for balance as David's mouth maps its way down my neck, his teeth scraping at my collarbone. I moan arching my whole body toward him.

  "Only I get to hear you moan." He bites into my nape and the surge from an entire nuclear plant ripples through my skin.

  "Oh, God!"

  "No, love," his voice is deep and husky. His hands release my hair to cup my breasts. "There is only one name I want on your lips right now."

  "David..." My body craves his, but my mind seems determined to wreck the moment again. The bugging hesitations resurface. "Don't you find me repulsive? After everything..."

  "Are we doing this again?" He takes my hand and presses it against the bulge in his jeans. "Enough talking. Don't get me wrong though, I enjoy telling you how perfect in every way I find you, and I love the sound of your voice, but now I really need you to shut up and climb on that bed."

  I shouldn't, but I giggle at his hoarse command, both relieved and aroused. I lay on the bed, observing him discard his clothing. The flames in his eyes boost the temperature of the room above one hundred degrees. He pulls my jeans and thongs down before settling above, his knees on each side of my hips. David picks up the blue top, rips the fabrics in half, and before I say another word, his mouth is hushing mine. "No more talking." His croaky tone vibrates against my lips.

  The cotton twines my wrists. My heart flutters as the memories cascade down the alleys of my mind, but the softness of the bondage assures me that I could escape it at any moment. But I won't. This is about trust – something I never experienced with Silvio.

  David raises my arms above my head and lets them rest there. "I am not going to tell you again how perfect I find you," he hums the words. "I am going to show you instead. I'm going to kiss every single bruise on your body, so you know how much I don't find them repulsive. I only wish I could do the same to the invisible bruises you are so ashamed of. They are the witness to your survival, your freedom."

  He fulfills his promise, kissing every bruise like the most precious gem on a queen's ring. This is how I feel right now – like I am the queen he worships, and I cannot remember why I was so worried before.

  I dissolve under him, like turpentine dissolves in water, and pleasure spreads all over when his tongue strokes my folds. "David..." My voice is a pure plea, although I am clueless of what it is I am begging for.

  "That's right," he says, his voice hushed as his mouth continues teasing my over-sensitive nub. "Come for me, Kahina..."

  The name comes out as a growl, reverberating through even the tiniest nerve endings, and I come with a cry, my whole body arching in the stingingly sharp release.

  I remain with my eyes shut for what feels like an eternity, my body still sated with pleasure, fistfuls of curls in my hands, arms over my flushed face, trying to return from the oblivion he sent me to.

  "Sweetheart," David parts my elbows, "was it too much?"

  I shake my head because I am worried my voice will tremble. Nobody has ever asked me how I felt.

  I finally open my eyes. David is leaning above me, breathing heavily, only a thin blue circle outlining the black pupils of his eyes, and I know he is barely holding back.

  "I can take it," I manage to whisper.

  David unties my wrists and lies on his back, tugging me to his chest. "So can I, love." He presses my hand to his lips. "But if you insist, I know just the way you can help me." David kisses my palm and guides my hand down.

  ∞∞∞

  The moment I wake up in David's huge bed alone, every brain-cell screams that something is wrong. I jump into loose blue jeans and white tank top we bought yesterday in a shop next door to the hairdresser who transformed the bird's nest on my head into a decent haircut. Still barefoot, I go looking for the man who for the past two days and nights only left me alone to shower.

  I spot David on the balcony. He is pacing, holding a phone to his ear, a grim expression on his face. The instant I step outside, he ends the conversation, his eyes avoiding mine.

  "What's wrong?"

  "I must return to Chicago, love." He sighs. "Something happened." David looks at me as if trying to decide if he should explain more.

  "Come here." He takes my hand and walks me to the sunbed. I sit down, and he squats in front. "The CEO who bought the painting at the auction died last night. They believe he went swimming drunk and drowned in his pool."

  David told me about the scam with the picture, and about how I got used as a down payment. He also told me the man chose to double-cross the devil. "Silvio killed him?"

  "There were no signs of forced entry, no signs of a struggle. The toxicology report should show us what happened. As for now, an accident is the most probable cause." Only David doesn't buy this version either. "A perfect accident when he could have pointed his finger at Silvio."

  The reflection of my face inside David's eyes resembles a sheet of paper.

  I was more than a down payment. I was a sex toy with a camera.

  "Silvio didn't need to break in. He had all the entrance and alarm codes. This is why he wanted me to go to the man's house. Silvio Beltrani never does business with strangers on their demand. They are potential witnesses, and he never leaves any."

  "You are a witness too, but you are still alive, and I intend to keep it this way. You are the only one who can help us bring Beltrani to his knees." David suddenly frowns. "Unless we find Silverstone's mystery lover."

  "Wait." I grab his hand before David stands up. "I forgot to tell you. There was a woman in the basement during my last torture. Her features resembled a spooky, twisted mask when she stood in the shady corner, observing my agony. No, ravishing in it... She smiled..."

  "Can she be the same woman?"

  "I don't know. But if she is, this woman will never say a word against Silvio."

  "Then we have to protect you more than ever! I will ask Lucas to join you. That guy has been a ghost for the last couple of years. Not even Silvio Beltrani would be able to track him down. He could use a few days outside the city with his girlfriend after the shit they've been through recently."

  "What happened?"

  "Allow them to tell you everything if they choose to." David caresses my cheek. "I promise to be back by Friday. The more casual my routine is, the less tail Silvio will put on me. And when we are close enough to trap him, that monster will seize to exist!"

  "I hope so." I sigh. "I cannot imagine what living without fear would feel like. It's like a dream."

  "Then dream, my queen!" David pulls me to my feet and pushes me into the room. "Never be afraid to dream big, and I will be there to make sure every dream comes true. So, why don't we start with what you desire for breakfast?"

  "Pancakes!"

  "Are you trying to keep me here forever?"

  I cock my head to the side, a smile across my face. "You told me to dream big."

  "Using my words against me, ah?" David chuckles, heading into the kitchen, and I follow him. I climb on a bar chair to observe the shirtless chef fulfilling my wish. Suddenly, my howling stomach is no match to the heat spreading all over my lower belly. I cannot tear my eyes off his light grey sweatpants hanging loose on his hips, partially revealing the dimples on his lower back.

  "I should p
aint this image of you," I giggle, "and sell it for a good fortune to some old, rich lady."

  "For as long as you don't sell the model." David beams, pouring pancake mix into the sizzling pan, and glances at me. One glimpse – and the dark pupils swallow the blues of his eyes again. "These pancakes will turn to coal if you continue biting your lips."

  "Let them." The trembling hum I do not recognize delivers my answer. My cheeks flare up with heat, and I forget to breathe when David's gaze travels down my body and lingers over my breasts. "I won't survive five days without you."

  He is in front of me before I finish saying the words.

  "Three days, love, three days until we see each other." He kisses my nose. "Tuesday." A soft peck lands on my left cheek. "Wednesday." His stubble tickles my right cheek. "Thursday."

  David cups my face in his palms. "And on Friday I will do this again," he whispers against my lips, his tongue brushing along them, causing me to search for his mouth. He kisses me until I melt in my seat, praying this moment never ends, craving much more than a kiss. David growls, our tongues still dancing together, and tears his lips away as if it is the most torturous decision he must make. "I will never sate my appetite for kissing you. You are turning me into a hopeless romantic, Kahina!"

  "Are you sure?" I snicker despite the intensity of the kiss still tingling on my lips. "You have been singing me serenades for a while now."

  David guffaws as he returns to the stove. "You are correct. I turned romantic when I realized the laughter that was caressing my soul belonged to the very woman who caressed my sight."

  Chapter 20

  Kahina

  Massive storm clouds ambush the already darkening sky by the time Lucas and Aurelia arrive. A ghost, as David put it, Lucas still chooses to take precautions. Darkness allows you to spot any possible tail, according to him, and the downpour makes for a perfect cover.