by Abbi Cook
“Boss, look what I have for you,” Tap brags, practically cooing his words.
Duke stands at his bar in the back corner of his office pouring himself a drink as he usually does at this time of night. Nearly as tall as me at six foot four, he tends to be heavier, especially when he goes through periods of drinking too much. I’ve been working for him for nearly eight months, and in that time, he’s given up booze twice—once last winter right after I started here and once in late February as what he gave up for Lent. Both times he lost twenty pounds and looked like a new man.
Now, two months since his last dry period ended, he looks like he’s swallowed a small keg. For some reason this time, the booze has made all his weight settle in his gut. He likes to slap my flat stomach and joke that if only he stopped drinking, he’d look more like me and less like Humpty Dumpty’s twin brother.
Tap’s announcement makes the two men sitting in front of Duke’s desk turn around to look at us, and their eyes get wide like he’s not holding a female in his arms but a chest filled with gold.
“Boss, you’re going to want to see this,” Marsh says in his usual whisper, unable to talk any louder after someone crushed his larynx in a fight a few years ago.
Duke slowly turns around, and the first thing I see is not his enormous gut hanging over his dress pants but his dark eyes opening wide like he can’t believe what he’s seeing. Tap may have been right with his prediction that grabbing Sophie Varens would make him the new favorite of the boss’s.
For her part, Sophie refuses to pretend to be a willing participant in any of this and flails against Tap’s hold. Against his hand, she cries out the same words she’s screamed the whole drive there.
“Let me go!”
“Holy shit! Is that who I think it is?” Duke asks, putting down his glass of whisky without taking a drink.
“Sophie Varens, the niece of Victor Varens himself. I saw her when we went to get Carney’s payment and grabbed her,” Tap brags, all too proud of his capture. “I knew you’d want her, boss.”
His eyes still wide as saucers, Duke slowly walks over toward where Tap holds her tightly, even as she continues to fight him. “I’ve heard she’s Victor’s favorite niece. When he finds out I have her, he’s going to lose his fucking mind.”
I had a feeling Duke would enjoy the idea of having this kind of leverage over the boss of the Varens family. Tap becoming the favorite of all his guys isn’t going to be good for any of us, especially me. We barely tolerate one another, and that’s when all things are equal between us. Tap having power over me isn’t going to work.
“You’ve done well, Tap. Very well,” Duke says slowly as his eyes scan Sophie.
“That’s all well and good, boss, but she’s mine. Tap owes me, and I’m calling in his debt,” I say flatly, needing to turn the tables on this shitshow now.
Everyone in the office turns to look at me, including Tap. The girl’s eyes fill with horror, as if being with me would be worse than being with that ugly motherfucker.
“Tap owes me for that fuck up last month. I took the heat for it, but now I want my due.”
I know how Duke thinks. He likely doesn’t want to strip Tap of his take, but he can’t let my claim go unanswered. He looks over at me and then back at him before saying, “King’s got a point. You know how things work here, Tap. I told you last week he’d come calling when something good came in.”
“No way! She’s mine. I saw her and grabbed her for you, boss. He did nothing!” Tap shrieks, clutching the girl closer to him.
From over near the desk, Stills laughs and says, “I think we should share her. Seems only right so nobody gets their nose out of joint.”
Tall and thin, he’s cornered the market on being the clown here, so I don’t take him too seriously until I see Duke nodding, like he thinks that’s a good idea. I must not have made myself clear.
I take a step toward Tap and stop, pointing at the girl. “She’s payment and I want it. It’s that simple. Tap owes me, boss. It’s only right that he pays me, and she’s how he needs to do it.”
For a long moment, no one says anything. I watch as Tap waits to hear Duke’s decision, glancing over at Sophie to see her eyes darting back and forth between my boss and me. If she thinks I’m the worst choice, she’s clearly not seeing this situation clearly.
Finally, Duke nods. “King’s right. You owe him, Tap. There’s nothing else to be said. Hand her over.”
I don’t expect to take her without him causing some trouble, so when he pushes her away into Duke and pulls a knife on me, it’s not surprising. While Duke grabs hold of the girl, Tap and I stare each other down, both of us waiting for the moment when we’ll start this fight.
He’s smaller than me by about three inches and forty pounds, so I can take him no problem. The knife is a whole different story. He spends every spare fucking moment with his goddamned knives and knows how to use them. If I’m not careful, he’ll cut me bad enough to take me out.
“You can’t have her, King. She’s my prize, not yours,” Tap says, practically whining as he moves that damn knife of his back and forth in front of him.
“You owe me, man. You know how that works. I told you I’d handle things, but you knew I’d be calling in the debt. Pay up.”
I’m not sure which of those words enrages him more than before, but he lunges at me, ending our little dance around the room, and I easily take him down. His back slams off the floor, momentarily knocking the wind out of him. That’s my chance to overcome him before he can recover, so I send my fist into his face, pounding his cheekbone.
But it’s not enough, and a second later, he’s back to swinging that fucking knife at me, even from his position on his back. I move left and right, avoiding the sharp edge of the weapon he’ll use to carve me up like a Thanksgiving turkey if he gets the chance, but he catches me in the leg.
The pain from the blade slicing into my skin becomes secondary to my rage at having to deal with this asshole all night only to get fucking cut. Something snaps inside me, and a moment later, I’m ramming my fist into his ugly face like a jackhammer, his blood and teeth flying back at me as I beat the hell out of him.
By the time Marsh and Stills pull me off him, Tap is unconscious and his face looks like something a dog puked up. I struggle against their hold, still wanting nothing more than to beat this guy into the ground, and fight them as they stand me up to lead me away.
“King, man! You got him! Now we have to do something about that leg,” Duke says like a referee as they drag me toward the bathroom right off his office.
“I’m not done with that motherfucker! Let me go!”
The last I see of Tap is the bloody mess I made of his face before Stills slams the bathroom door closed. I stop fighting them and sit down on the side of the bathtub. Looking down at my torn pants, I shake my head in disgust.
“I hate those fucking knives of his. He better watch or one night I’m going to bury one in his chest. Motherfucker needs to find an outlet for his aggression. Maybe he needs to jerk off more or something.”
Marsh lets out a low chuckle and hands me a pair of scissors. “Open up your pants so we can stitch you up.”
Cutting into the black fabric, I peel it apart to reveal the damage Tap did to me. A thin streak in my skin on the outside of my thigh is currently gushing enough bright red blood to cover my leg.
“Glad you can see the humor in this,” I say, looking up at his meaty face before handing him back the scissors.
Stills and Marsh have together sewn me back up no less than a dozen times in the months I’ve worked for Duke. Closer to the boss’s age than my thirty years, they’ve probably stitched up dozens, if not hundreds, of guys.
The two men stand staring down at me, each one smiling. “You pick. Stills or me,” Marsh says in that whispery way of his.
“Stills. The last thing I need is that husky voice of yours giving me a hard on at this very moment,” I joke.
Scowling
, Marsh mumbles something that sounds like fuck you and steps back to let Stills work on me. He hates having his balls busted about how he sounds, but the more I make it seem like my leg doesn’t hurt like a motherfucker, the better things will be for me.
Stills crouches down near my leg and laughs as he douses it in peroxide and then begins to sew the skin back together. “I would have personally chosen him, sexy voice or not. He’s better at this.”
The pain makes me feel like I’m about to explode through the roof, but I laugh at his comment, even as I worry I’m going to black out. I can’t let them see this hurts so bad I’d kill for something to deaden my emotions at the moment. The world we all live in will eat a man alive if he shows weakness. Anyone who can’t handle a few stitches after a knife fight with a pussy won’t last long here, so whatever I have to do to show strength, I’ll do it.
My life depends on it.
Ten minutes later, Stills looks up and smiles at me. He’s done his usual good job, so I say, “I guess I’ll live to fight another day. Thanks, man.”
All this playacting that I’m not in pure agony and watching someone sew up my leg didn’t make me want to throw up is exhausting, but I have to keep it up, at least until I get away from Duke and the other guys. Just a few more minutes and I’ll be in the clear.
I follow Stills and Marsh out into the office to find Duke’s the one holding Sophie now. She’s stopped squirming, which seems curious. Does she have a thing for old, fat bastards?
Putting on my best face, I smile at my boss and walk up to where he and Sophie stand. “All better now, so I’ll be taking her with me.”
The way I say that is meant to quash any questions he or anyone else may have about her being mine. Duke may be the boss of this organization, but even he follows rules, particularly ones he’s set. My tone is intended to remind him of that.
She looks up at me like the mere idea of going anywhere with me terrifies her, again baffling me. How could I be the most upsetting choice among Tap, Duke, and me?
“Those are the rules, so she’s all yours, King. Let me warn you, though. She’s got fight in her, so don’t turn your back for a second.”
“I won’t. No need to worry about that.”
“And don’t damage her. She could be useful at a future date, and having her look like she’s been through a meat grinder wouldn’t do us any good. Understand?” Duke says as he roughly pushes her toward me.
“I have no intention of damaging her, boss. In fact, that’s the last thing on my mind,” I say with a wink I’m sure he’ll understand as I pull her to me.
Duke throws his head back and lets out a hearty laugh before patting me on the back when he passes me to return to his glass of whisky. “That’s exactly why I gave her to you, son. You see, there is a method to my madness.”
As I wonder why Sophie isn’t fighting my hold on her or saying a word, I keep up the pretense of everything being fine, even as the pain in my leg makes focusing on anything nearly impossible. “I never doubted it, boss.”
Tipping his glass up, he takes a big swallow of whisky and waves his hand to dismiss me. “Have a good time with her, but don’t forget I expect to see you back here bright and early tomorrow morning. I suspect you’ll be tired, though.”
Duke, Stills, and Marsh all laugh at his poorly concealed sex joke, but fucking Sophie is the last thing on my mind. I can’t imagine my cock even getting hard at this point I’m in so much pain.
“See you tomorrow!” I say as I guide her toward the office door.
From behind me, Duke yells, “By the way, Tap’s pretty hurt. I don’t know if he’s going to be okay after what you did to him.”
I look over my shoulder and shrug. “You take a swipe at the king, you better kill the king. Maybe Tap learned that lesson now.”
“If he can’t come back, I’m going to make you responsible for breaking in his replacement. That’s my job as the king of this organization,” Duke says in a serious tone.
His message comes through loud and clear. Take on Tap, who’s an asshole and causes us all trouble, and he doesn’t care. But make his life and how he runs his business more difficult, and that’s a whole different story.
“Got it.”
Closing the door behind me, I walk a few feet with Sophie and stop as the pain overwhelms me. For the first time, she stirs in my hold, likely sensing her opportunity to escape.
Nothing could be a worse idea.
I pull her tightly to my body and squeeze my arms around her as the guard dogs bark in the distance. Leaning my head down, I whisper in her ear, “You hear that? Their sole job is to capture people. Try to escape, and they’ll tear you limb from limb, sweetheart. And if they don’t get you, the dozen or so guards with guns will. You’re miles away from any house or anyone who can help you, so behave yourself. Your previous owner may have cut me with that fucking knife of his, but you lucked out when I took you. Trust me on that.”
Sophie turns her head and frowns at me. “That’s not much comfort since the first guy was a psychopath.”
“Who knows? I might be a psychopath too. I did just beat one of my co-workers unconscious.”
Her frown deepens. “Again, not comforting.”
Wincing from the pain shooting up my leg into my hip, I take a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Behave yourself and you won’t be hurt. Don’t behave and you’ll wish Tap had won his claim on you. Understand?”
I wait for her to answer, but she simply nods. All the better. I don’t feel like talking much at the moment anyway.
As we walk toward the outside, I look over and see her staring down toward my leg. “Don’t get any ideas. If Tap couldn’t take me, you have no chance.”
We stop at the door and she quietly asks, “What are you going to do with me?”
She’s not stupid. The show she got to see back in Duke’s office tells her the kind of men holding her. I’m not different from any of them. Well, not that she can see.
I look into her dark eyes and force a smile as I push the door open. “You’re in luck tonight, Sophie. I couldn’t get hard if I wanted to.”
Her breath hitches as we hit the balmy late June night air, and I can’t decide if it’s because the thought of being with me terrifies her.
Or excites her.
Chapter Three
Sophie
My captor’s apartment is located on the far end of Duke Cantorini’s estate, far enough away that I can imagine there must be a place nearby to escape through that the guards and dogs King mentioned might not check often. Then again, I might be delusional since I’m still in disbelief that I’ve been taken and brought to this place.
My father warned me since I was a little girl to never be alone. When I was young, I thought he said that because of the stories about the rest of my family that sounded too fantastical to believe. As I grew up, I came to understand the life they lived was exactly what everyone claimed it was and meant I would forever be in danger, despite never being a part of that world.
For years, I made sure I never went anywhere without someone with me, and nothing happened. Then a few months ago when I turned twenty-one, I decided my father had always been just an overprotective parent and all his warnings had been to simply scare me. I stopped forcing friends to accompany me to the mall or to the coffee shop simply to have someone with me. I started running alone at night, something I’d been cautioned never to do, even if I had someone with me.
But I didn’t listen. I knew better. People didn’t get snatched off a side street in a residential neighborhood, for God’s sake. I carried mace sometimes, just in case, but I stopped doing that last month too since night after night proved to me I didn’t need it.
Now I’m being held by one of Cantorini’s men after he nearly killed the one who took me from that residential neighborhood.
I sit in the chair King shoved me into when we walked into his apartment and then immediately disappeared into the bathroom. My mind constructs a doz
en plans to escape, but each one ends in dogs ripping my body apart and him standing there watching as they devour me.
Looking around, I wait a few seconds for him to appear, and when he doesn’t, I stand up and tiptoe over to the door. This apartment is on the top floor and above another apartment that appeared empty when we walked up the stairs past it. I might be able to get away and make a run for the edge of the estate, which I imagine is nearby. King’s injury made walking up all those stairs difficult for him, so I could outrun him if I sprint.
My heart slamming into my chest, I turn the doorknob and find it unlocked. I knew he was in too much agony to pay attention to details! All I have to do is get outside and then run as fast as I can before the alarm is sounded and those dogs are set after me.
“Bad move, sweetheart.”
I freeze at the sound of his voice. Much angrier than before when we spoke right outside Duke’s office, it practically stops my breathing.
Slowly, I turn around and see him behind me. He’s huge and intimidating bearing down on me. I want to speak but don’t know what to say that wouldn’t anger him more.
Taking a step toward me, he stops and inhales a deep breath of air into his lungs. “I can smell your fear, little girl. But there’s something else under that delicious scent coming off you.”
“Oh, yeah? Like my perfume? I’ve been told it’s pretty great, so you have good taste,” I say to him, mustering all the bravado I can while everything inside me quakes in complete terror.
He shakes his head and smiles. “No, little girl. Not your perfume. Now sit back down and behave yourself or I’m not going to be responsible for what I do.”
I want to answer that he’d be the only one responsible since he’s the one in control of this get-together we have going on, but I don’t. I may have a smart mouth, but I have the intelligence to go with it and I know better than to back talk a man like this one.
However, I can’t stop myself from correcting him on the pet name he seems to have chosen for me.
“My name is Sophie, and I’m not a little girl.”