The Rossi Crime Family: The Complete Five Book Mafia Series

by J. L. Beck

  I can’t even feel the pain from my wrist or ankle any longer. It’s just a dull ache in comparison to the pain I’m feeling inside my chest. “He won’t hurt me, Tasha,” I reassure her, holding my wrist to my chest. I feel betrayed, broken, lost, and damaged. I trusted him—and I was so stupid to do so, because now I’m here, and he’s gone.

  “He will, Elyse. He will. I saw the look in his eyes. I mean, he already has. Look at you. Look at me.” She sounds so unstable, so afraid.

  Taking in her words, I swallow them down and consider that maybe she is right...maybe she was right all along. Her warning isn’t for nothing, and it’s painfully obvious now.

  Still, pieces of me cling to the Hero I knew, the man beneath the mask. I may not be experienced in much of anything, but I know pain, and Hero is hiding his, shoving it way down deep.

  Tasha doesn’t say anything more to me and starts driving.

  The pain in my wrist is nothing more than a dull ache now, and I decide I’m better off nursing the damn wound myself. If I go to the hospital, my parents will find out, and if they find out, they’ll try to get me to come back with them.

  It’s not something I can afford to deal with right now. The last thing I need is another run in with them. “Let’s go back to the dorms.”

  Tasha looks at me through the rearview mirror. “What? Your wrist is clearly broken, and Hero had to carry you out of there. Aren’t you worried you’ve hurt something?” Her response is typical Tasha.

  I shake my head.

  “I know I hurt something, but I can’t go to the hospital.” I frown. “If I do, my parents will find out, and if they find out, that’s another storm I have to endure. I’ve broken plenty of bones before. There isn’t anything a doctor can do I can’t do myself.” And that’s the truth, at least when it comes to broken bones. “We’ll just get a brace, I’ll wear that for a few weeks, and before you know it, I’ll be better than new.” I force myself to smile.

  Tasha doesn’t seem like she wants to listen to me, but as we get closer to town, she heads in the direction of the dorms instead of the hospital.

  I damn near sigh in relief.

  When we pull into the parking lot of our building, she puts the car in park and kills the engine. Then she turns in her seat to face me. “We need to go to the police...you know that, right?”

  “No!” The word comes out in a scream, and I slowly exhale, calming my voice before I continue. “We can’t go to the police for the same reason we can’t go to the hospital. Don’t you get it?” I plead with her to understand and hope she buys this is the only reason I don’t want to go to the police. Because the truth is, I wouldn’t do that to Hero. He might be able to hurt me emotionally, but I will not inflict the same pain on him. Not when I know he does really care about me, deep down inside.

  He might’ve messed up tonight, but that doesn’t mean he deserves to go back to prison, and even if it did, it doesn’t mean I want to be the reason he goes back.

  “Okay,” she whispers, her voice soft. She’s not acting like herself at all, but then again, neither am I. There is no taking back what we saw tonight, or the things that were said.

  “It’s going to be okay, Tasha.” I lean forward and give her a half hug, wanting to put all our broken pieces back together.

  But even I know the broken pieces of my heart will never be whole again. Not until I see him. Not until I get the answers I need.

  ***

  The next week goes by in a blur. My wrist is healing up nicely in the brace Tasha picked up from Walgreens. I focus on my studies as best I can and hope every day he’ll show up at my door to apologize. I make sure my phone is charged and the volume is up just in case he finally returns any of my calls or texts.

  So far, he’s done neither, and with each passing day, I’m getting more and more impatient. I know this entire thing is my fault, but I still feel like he should have come to his senses by now.

  Tasha thinks I’m crazy for trying to get in touch with him at all, but I ignore her warnings. I know him. I know he didn't mean the things he said to her that day.

  I walk across campus, my feet dragging the entire way. Today is Thursday: paid study session day. Even though I’m glad I didn’t officially quit my job, like Hero had suggested, I haven't been looking forward to today either.

  My heart beats frantically against my ribcage, as if it’s trying to break free and fly away. Each step I take up the stairs and into the library makes it beat faster, harder.

  Then, I feel it. A slight change in the air. Just like in the past few days, I have this feeling someone is watching me. I narrow my eyes and turn around, scanning my surroundings.

  Has he been watching me?

  He admitted to watching me before, so it must have been him. Who else would be sneaking around after me? Or maybe I’m just being paranoid hoping he’s watching me, hoping he’s sorry. Righting myself, I straighten my back and hold my head high.

  Today, he’ll finally have to come face to face with me, and I’ll demand answers—answers I deserve.

  When I get to the study room, I pause in front of the door with my hand on the knob. Is this it? Will he already be inside waiting for me? I take a calming breath to brace myself for the onslaught of emotions surely awaiting me.

  The knob turns, and I push open the door, revealing an empty room. Disappointment washes over me like a tidal wave, pulling me down deep into the water.

  Ugh, he isn’t here yet.

  I walk inside the room and slump down into one of the chairs—the same chair I sat in when I kissed him for the first time. The memory of that day brings tears to my eyes. I was shocked when he made that request, but I had never been so excited, or felt so alive. Kissing him was one of the most exhilarating experiences of my life, and it didn’t help that he was my first kiss either. I will never forget the way my body reacted to him, or the way it continued to react to him.

  I bring my fingertips to my lips, as if I could still feel the kiss there. But the warmth is gone, and so is the taste. I need to see him. I need to have him back.

  Checking my phone, I realize it’s already ten after six. If he were going to show up, he’d be here by now. Slinging my backpack over my shoulder, I stomp out of the study room far more determined than I’ve ever expected myself to be.

  I’m done waiting for him to come around. I don’t care what he thinks is right for me. I want answers, and I want them now.

  In the time it takes me to walk to his place, I let every possible scenario run through my head. Maybe he’ll open the door...just to slam it in my face again. Or maybe he isn’t there at all, or maybe he’ll just pretend not to be there.

  The worst case scenario would be another girl opening the door. I don’t know if I would survive that one, but I guess I’m about to find out.

  By the time I get to his apartment, my still sore ankle is throbbing. I concentrate on the pain to keep me grounded.

  Lifting my good hand, I beat against the heavy wooden door. My heart races at hummingbird speed as I listen intently for any noise. It’s now or never...right?

  When I finally hear footsteps approaching, I think I might just pass out from anticipation alone.

  The door swings open, revealing a freshly showered Hero, wearing nothing but a pair of low hanging shorts.

  Looking him up and down, I feel all the saliva suddenly disappear from my mouth. He looks like my beautiful dark knight. I want to press up onto my tip toes and kiss him. Spill all the words from my lips I’ve been begging to tell him for the last week, but it’s like some kind of silly magic trick is taking place, leaving any words I want to say behind and my tongue drier than the Sahara Desert.

  “What are you doing here?” he growls.

  The harshness of his voice is like a slap to the face, dragging me back to reality. His eyes are a dark green, and they pierce mine with a cold stare that settles deep into my bones.

  “I-I want some answers,” I demand…or try to. The man is so i
ntimidating, he makes it hard to say anything when he’s looking at me the way he is right now. “I deserve some and you—you know you owe them to me.”

  Rather than open his mouth to give me the answers like a normal person, he steps forward, grabs me by both shoulders, and pulls me into his apartment. He closes the door behind us, locking the dead bolt into place. Suddenly, I feel like I’m caught in a cage with a wild animal rather than a human.

  Before I can get a word out, not that I could get a word out anyway, he’s in front of me. His face is so close to mine, I can feel his hot breath on my skin. His body takes up all the light in the room, covering me in shadows.

  I part my lips slightly, inviting him to kiss me, hoping, praying he does.

  Instead, his hand slithers out, his fingers curling into the back of my neck.

  My pulse pounds furiously in my ears. When he releases me, I almost sigh, but my relief is short lived, because he grabs a fist full of my hair and tilts my head back until I have to look up into his eyes. My scalp is on fire as he pulls on the roots, forcing me to keep my eyes on him.

  “Is this what you want? The answers you came to find?” His voice is dripping with venom as he lowers his head to my neck, grazing the tender skin next to my ear with his teeth.

  My whole body aflame, every inch of my skin electrified. This isn’t Hero.

  This is the man he warned me about—the man he told me he really was.

  His free hand starts roaming my body, down my throat, over my breast, and trailing down my belly. It only takes a second of him touching me for my mind to go blank.

  “Did you come because you want this?” He grabs my uninjured hand and brings it to the iron shaft between his legs.

  I wrap my hand around him through the thin material of his shorts, and he groans. I want to squeeze harder, give him more pleasure, but I stop myself and pull my hand away. I can’t give into him like this. I need to keep a clear head and get what I really came here for.

  That’s easier said than done, though. Before I can open my mouth, Hero leans into me, pressing his kissable lips harshly against mine, swallowing any of my words and pushing all my brain cells out the window.

  Then it occurs to me…

  What if this is the only way I can get to him?

  If this is what he needs from me right now, I’ll give it to him.

  I’ll give him myself.

  Chapter Eleven

  Hero

  I wrap my hands around her tiny waist and push her toward my bedroom. Part of me wants her to stop me, push me away and run out the door as fast as she can. The other part is terrified she might do just that. Then again, I’m not sure I’d let her. I warned her, told her not to come here, yet here she stands in all her glory.

  Demanding answers, acting like she can trust me.

  Didn’t she learn anything?

  She’s asking for things I can’t give her right now, maybe never. She knows I’m not a good man and I’ve done bad things, yet here she stands.

  But at the same time, I’ve missed her so fucking much. I’ve missed how soft her skin feels, the honey taste that lingers on my lips when I kiss her, and the way her hair smells, like sunshine and flowers on a summer afternoon.

  She’s life, and I want to breathe her in, every single fucking molecule of her.

  I bury my face into the crook of her neck and inhale her unique scent. It tickles the inside of my nose and does crazy things to my head. She rests her hands on my shoulders as I walk her backwards all the way up to my bed.

  Her wrist is now in a brace, and it takes everything inside me not to ask her if she’s okay. Leaving her that night killed me. It ripped me apart. But it’s for the best—all of this is for the best.

  So, I’ll give her this. I might not be able to give her answers, but I can give her something else—something she wants just as much as answers, or at least something her body wants.

  “What were you doing that night?” She sounds breathless.

  I clear my face of any emotions. I can’t let her know what I’m thinking, or how having her this close makes me feel. “Let me ask you something, Elyse, why did you come here today? It wasn’t just to ask questions.” I grin down at her as we reach the bed. The backs of her legs hit it, forcing her to sit down. I’m not sure I can go through with fucking her. I don’t trust myself with her, not physically at least.

  She gives me a puzzled expression. “What do you mean? Of course it was to ask questions. What else would I come here for?”

  I push her gently against the shoulder, but she doesn’t budge. In fact, her eyes stay glued to mine. Fuck! It’s clear she wants to play hard to get with me, and that only magnifies my darker, more primal needs. I know I’m fucked up. I’ve seen what killing someone can do to you firsthand, but Elyse...she’s sweet, pure. She’s everything that should stay the fuck away from me, yet I want her. Dammit, I want her more than I’ve ever wanted anything.

  “Okay, you want to play hard to get?” I sneer, and all the blood in my body seems to pump straight to my cock at her wide-eyed, fearful expression. A week ago, I would’ve hated seeing her look at me like that, but now…it’s something I need her to do. It’s the boundary I need to keep my heart in line and my head where it needs to be.

  “No…” She shakes her head in confusion. Those soft brown locks of hers escape from behind her ear, leaving me with an itch to put them back into place. “I mean, yes…” Her cheeks turn a soft shade of pink. “I didn’t come here for sex, Hero. I came here to talk about what happened. About what you were doing that night.”

  “If you aren’t here to give me that pretty pussy, then you aren't here for shit.” I lean into her face, making it clear I want something I know she isn’t ready to give. That’ll get her to run.

  I take a step back and cross my arms over my chest, smirking down at her like the asshole I am.

  She looks broken, sad, then her features change…

  “You don’t get to do that, Hero.” She shoves from the bed and gets right in my face, rage painting her adorable features.

  I have to force myself not to reach out and touch her, because fuck, do I want to touch her. Her tiny fingers press against my bare chest, sending electric shock waves through me.

  “I will not be bullied! I will not let you hide behind some mask of fury.”

  Her words are meant to chip away at my mask, the one she knows I’m wearing. But what she doesn’t realize is I’m a master at wearing a mask. Not because I want to be, but because I had to be. I’m stronger, and I’m way fucking better at lying.

  I grip her by the wrist firmly, not hard, because truthfully, I want to scare her away, not hurt her. “If you don’t want me to fuck you, you better turn the fuck around and walk your ass out of my house. I don’t want to talk to you about what could’ve been. You fucked that up when you didn’t listen to me. You did this, not me.”

  Elyse gives me a doleful expression.

  I feel the same emotions she’s showing me, just way down deep inside, buried beneath the pain, beneath the sorrow. The question still lingers. Why the fuck didn’t she just stay here?

  Her tongue darts out over her plump bottom lip.

  I wonder what she’s going to do next. She shocks the hell out of me when she pulls her hand from my grip and starts undressing. She pulls her shirt off with ease, but her yoga pants are another story. With one working hand, she struggles to pull them down her hips.

  I smile smugly, watching her struggle, but deep down in my stomach, I know I won’t be able to follow through on my word.

  With pink cheeks, Elyse looks up at me, a shyness in her eyes. “I…” she stutters. “I can’t get them off.” She makes another effort to push them down, seeing as I make no move to help her, but loses her balance halfway through.

  I reach out, balancing her without thought, her hot bare skin igniting a fire in my belly. “Are you sure this is what you want? Just mindless sex?”

  I watch her visibly swallow, a me
ek “yes” slips from her lips.

  “I won’t be gentle with you. I won’t cuddle you afterwards. I won’t call you. And I won’t give a fuck if you come,” I say the words through clenched teeth, wanting to stab myself in the heart.

  “I know,” she whispers, her eyes sad.

  Fucking Christ! She’s testing me. She has to be.

  I pick her up and throw her onto the bed, peeling her yoga pants the rest of the way off. My mouth waters when I see her cute lace panties. Her chest heaves with every breath she takes, and I feel like such a bastard for doing this to her.

  “Roll over,” I order, but she shakes her head no, a defiance in her eyes that has me on the verge of breaking.

  “Fine,” I growl, then flip her over onto her belly with ease.

  She doesn’t fight me, and I hate it. I fucking hate it.

  It’s time to scare her, to send her packing. Pushing my shorts down to the floor, I lean over her on the bed. I grip her by the hips, forcing her onto her knees.

  I rock against her ass and watch as she falls helplessly against the mattress, clearly not ready for what I’m going to give her. With her face pressed firmly into the sheets and her ass in the air, I grip her panties and shift them to one side, exposing her perfectly pink pussy. A gasp escapes her lips, and I fist my cock in my hand, bringing it to her entrance.

  “You sure this is what you want? You want me to fuck you?” I barely get the words out. My chest heaves as I try and get oxygen into it. My heart is pounding so hard inside my chest, it feels like I might die. And damn, wouldn’t this be a way to go.

  “I don’t—I don’t want it like this, but I want you,” she mumbles into the sheets.

  She’s giving herself to me, but why? So I can break her, hurt her?

  “Well, I don’t give a fuck what you want.” My words are coated in rage as I push my swollen cock against her entrance. The head barely slips inside, and she cries out, but not in pleasure. No, this is a cry of pain.

  My grip is tight on her hips, and I exhale, trying to determine my next move. Do I follow through and fuck her like this for the first time, knowing damn well she’s a virgin or do I do right by her and give her the best time of her life.