by J. L. Beck
“Stitches?” She starts shaking her head. “N-no, I don’t like needles. I think it will be fine. I don’t need stitches.”
“Shhh, Kitten, calm down. It’s going to be okay.” I cup her by the cheek and look deep into her eyes. She’s terrified, worried out of her damn mind, and I have to make her feel protected, secure.
“Breathe, just breathe with me and it’ll be fine.”
When she nods her head, to let me know she hears me, I release her and open the kit, pulling out everything I need.
“I’m going to pull out the glass and then I’m going to clean the cut. I want to see how deep it is before I start sewing you up. This isn’t going to be like pulling a band aid off. I can’t do this fast and quick or I might widen the cut.” I hold onto her wrist with a death grip, afraid she may jump off the counter and run away. With a steady hand, I start to pull out the glass, slowly, very slowly.
“Close your eyes if you need to, it might help.” I glance up at her, and she closes her eyes Her tiny chest heaves beneath my shirt, and her skin is still a snowy white.
“Why did you do it?” she whispers.
“You’re doing good, Kitten.” I pull the glass out all the way and toss the shard into the sink, before I start to clean it with hydrogen peroxide, ignoring her question.
“Talk to me, Ivan,” she cries, gripping onto my hand with her uninjured one.
I grit my teeth, not wanting to answer her, but knowing if I don’t, she may just flip out more.
“I was angry, and I still am,” I answer as I finish cleaning the cut, and then inspect the wound. It’s not too deep... thank goodness.
“Why are you angry? Are you mad at me?” Her gaze widens when I release her hand and get the needle and thread ready.
“More myself than you, Kitten.”
She visibly swallows.
“This is going to hurt. I wish I had something to give you for the pain, but I don’t unless you want me to go get those pills from the cell.”
She shakes her head without thinking about it.
“Just stay with me, and it’ll be over soon, okay?”
“I’m sorry, Ivan,” she apologizes yet-a-fucking-gain, and I have half a mind to tell her to shut up again. I’m tired of her being sorry, of apologizing for things that aren’t her fault.
Instead, I start stitching her up. The needle pierces her creamy skin, and I realize then that she’ll always have a stark reminder of me on her hand... a scar to remind her of the kind of mistake I was. Words land on the tip of my tongue, and I start speaking without thinking.
“I’m not who you think I am, Violet. Yes, I’m helping you, but I’ve hurt hundreds before you. A lot of people, a lot of women, died because of me, and some I’ve even killed myself. Me saving you doesn’t change the things I’ve done. One good thing for all the bad doesn’t make the bad disappear. It doesn’t make me a good man for doing right by you.”
“I know you aren’t good, but you’re good enough for me. There’s light inside of you, and it’s begging to be set free, beginning to shine bright. You’re like a firefly trapped in a jar, and I want to set you free, Ivan.”
My jaw tightens, and I steady my shaking hand as I pierce her skin once more.
“Stop trying to see the good in me, the good in everyone around you. We’re all evil in some way shape or form. God didn’t make us without flaws.”
“What’s my flaw then?”
“Loving me.”
She quiets at my response, and I finish sewing her up. I clean up the blood off the side of her hand and toss all the bloody gauze into the trash. When I wrap the hand lightly, I can feel Violet’s eyes on me, burning a hole through my body. I silently clean up all the glass off the floor, sweeping it up and tossing it into the trash.
A headache starts to pound directly behind my eyes.
“Let’s go to bed,” I order, picking her up from the counter by her hips, before placing her back down on her feet. She holds her hand to her chest and looks up at me, sadness in lingering in her eyes.
“Will you hold me?” The hopeful tone in her voice crushes me all over again. I press a hand to the small of her back and usher her forward. Things have changed between us, and I’m torn in half by the feelings accompanied with that change. I feel like I’m being pulled in two different directions. Part of me wants this, wants her so badly... while the other part despises the thought of it.
“Yes, Kitten, I’ll hold you.”
She lets me get her into bed, and I follow suit, settling onto the mattress, pulling out a few shards of glass that had embedded themselves into my feet. If Violet notices, she doesn’t say anything, and I’m thankful. I don’t have it in me to argue with her anymore tonight.
I turn the light off and pull her into my chest, inhaling her sweet scent into my lungs, wishing that her loving me didn’t change things... that it didn’t change us.
“Good night, Ivan,” she murmurs into my chest.
“Good night, Kitten.” I exhale, letting every inch of her surround me. She’s the one thing I want, but the only thing completely out of reach.
***
“Ivan...” I hear someone calling my name, and my body shakes. I brush the hand away, rolling over. It’s too early to get up.
“Ivan. It’s past breakfast time.” Violet’s soft voice caresses my ears, pulling me out of my stupor. My eyes fly open and meet her worried ones. Her face is set in a frown, and I know something is wrong.
“What?”
“It’s past breakfast time. You should have brought me down an hour ago.”
“Fuck!” I get up from the bed, and she follows suit. I get us some clothes from the dresser, and we both start to get dressed.
I don’t even have my boxers all the way pulled up when a loud knock on the front door has us both frozen in place. I glance at Violet over my shoulder, and she looks scared out of her mind.
“Don’t worry, just… get naked and lay on the bed face down.” She gives me a confused look, but I don’t have time to explain.
“Just do it, Kitten, trust me.”
I close the bedroom door behind me, hoping that she fucking listens. If someone comes in here looking for her, I can always say I have her up here for my entertainment, but it won't look real if she doesn't do what I fucking telling her to. Another loud knock echoes through my apartment before I can make it to the door.
“Hold on,” I growl and pull the door open to find Gabe on the other side. Fuck. He must be here to tell me Violet is gone. It takes a lot out of me to keep an emotionless mask in place when I have the burning fear that someone is going to take Violet from me.
“Sorry to wake you, boss, but I guess you didn’t get Rossi’s message?”
“What message?”
“He is on his way here, and he called an emergency meeting. He is going to expect you to be in the conference room when he gets here.”
“Shit, okay... I’ll be down in a minute.” I shut the door quickly and hold my ear to it, listening to
Gabe’s footsteps disappear down the hall.
When I get back to the bedroom and find Violet naked, sprawled out on the bed, her head down and ass up in the air, my cock goes from limp to hard in zero point nine seconds. I have this primal urge to peel my boxers off and sink deep inside her. I step closer to the bed and notice she is shaking. That alone takes the edge off the need to fuck her right now, dousing my hardened cock with ice water.
“It’s okay, Kitten. He wasn’t here because of you, but I do need to get you back downstairs quickly.”
She flips over, her soft sunshine-blond hair clings to parts of her face and when I catch sight of her perfectly shaped tits, flat stomach, and the beautiful valley between her legs, I almost forget what I just said and lose myself in her.
Tonight, I can have her again tonight. I remind myself. But right now, I need to get her to the cell and find out what the fuck Rossi wants. He hardly ever comes here, so some bad shit must have gone down for hi
m to show up like this and call a meeting out of the blue.
For a moment, I think it might be because of Yulie’s disappearance, but that’s unlikely. That would be something to deal with quietly, not call a fucking meeting over.
“I would like nothing more than to pull of my boxers and climb in that bed with you, but we really need to go.” I put on the rest of my clothes and look at my phone. Fuck, he did send me a message. I stuff both phones in my pocket.
“I heard, you have to go to a meeting?” she asks quietly, as if she is not sure if she is allowed to ask. I watch her pull her own clothes on and as soon as her skin is covered, I want to get her naked again.
“Yeah, Rossi is the… well, my boss. So, I really need to be there when he gets here.” She pulls socks onto her small feet just as I tie the laces on my boots. “How is your hand?”
“It’s fine,” she murmurs right before I pick her up and throw her over my shoulder.
“We’ll unwrap it and look at it later.”
I carry her down to the basement, moving quickly down the stairs. She tries to hold on to my shirt to stop bouncing on my shoulder so much, but when I set her down in her cell, she still looks a little dizzy. I pull the burner phone from my pocket and hand it to her.
“I need to go.” I’m trying to rush out, but Violet stops me.
“Wait, are you… are you coming back tonight?”
“Yes, Kitten, I’ll come and get you after dinner.”
A small smile tugs on her lips, and I almost kiss her, but then I remember that I really do have to go. Closing the heavy door behind me, I start to speed walk up to the first floor.
Thank fuck Rossi isn’t there yet when I enter the room. Six guys are already sitting around the conference table as I take my usual chair, next to Rossi. I glance over across the table at the empty chair where Yulie usually sits and hope the fuck no one knows he was here last before he went missing.
Actually, I hope no one even knows yet that he went missing, though if they don’t know by now, they will today.
“Anyone know what this is about?” I ask, breaking the heavy silence in the room.
All six guys either shake their head or murmur no. After my question, we resume to sit in uncomfortable silence. All the guys are clearly on edge, not knowing what is going on, myself included. I usually don’t get worried about shit, not until now… not since I have her to worry about.
The door opens, and Rossi walks in with one of his personal guards.
“Hello, gentlemen.” He takes a seat at the head of the table, a lit cigar in his hand.
“My bastard sons have finally figured out that I am not dead. They attacked my private estates last night, burning it to the ground, and I doubt they’re going to stop until they find me. I called this meeting because I need everybody on high alert. Keep your ears to the ground and make sure my name is kept out of everything... as always.” His eyes scan the room and land on Yulie’s empty chair.
“Where the fuck is Yulie?” he booms, and a nervous sludge coats my insides. When no one answers, he just shrugs as if he doesn’t really care. “That cocksucker is probably passed out drunk in his sex dungeon,” Rossi chuckles and half of the men in the room join in.
“All right then… I just wanted to let you know that I will be laying low for a few weeks and only a handful of people will know where I am. If you need anything, you’ll need to ask Ivan or Yulie. I’ll expect you all to treat them as if they were me. I’ve got a couple more rounds to do and then I’ll be out of here. I have a plane to catch.” Rossi gets up from his chair, buttoning his suit jacket up, flicking ashes of his cigar all over the table, while smoke billows in soft wisps through the air.
“Sorry your house burned down, boss,” Derick calls from across the table.
“Don’t be, the house didn’t mean shit to me. I am, however, disappointed that I didn’t have time to enjoy the virgin pussy I had tied up on my bed. It was truly a waste for such a fine piece of ass to die before being used. Any of you been down to see the girls going to auction yet?” He lifts his thick brows, his eyes piercing over each of the men, before meeting mine.
There isn’t an ounce of emotion in my features.
“Of course, it’s the only kind of window shopping I’ll ever do,” Derick snickers, and I have the urge to pick up the pencil in front of me and shove it into his eyeball.
“Well, if you’ve seen number five, you know what I had lying in my bed. It was her fucking sister.”
If I hadn’t trained myself for so many years to wear an emotionless mask, I would have looked shocked. I had a thousand and one questions, the biggest one being… how the hell did her sister end up in Rossi’s twisted web?
“No shit?” Derick sounds interested, and I watch him rub his chin as if he is thinking about her right now... about my Kitten.
“Yes. A real fucking waste I didn’t get to play with her for a bit before she burned to a crisp. Oh, well, the world is an oyster full of some of the finest pussy...” He laughs, but I can’t muster up even a smile.
Fucking Christ.
I realize then exactly what he said... Violet’s sister is dead. Rossi killed her. Well, he didn’t kill her himself, but he left her to die. I want to shake my head, clench my fists, throw something. As if she doesn’t have enough to deal with. Now this? It’s like a bad hand of poker, and she just keeps drawing shitty cards. One shit card after the next.
How am I going to tell her? How am I going to explain to her that her sister got tangled up in Rossi’s web, too? Fuck! No… telling her would just make everything worse for her. There is nothing anybody can do now to change what happened. Telling her would only cause her more pain, but the idea of not telling her, of breaking the fragile trust that’s been built between us, angers me. The last thing I want to do is risk losing her, but if finding her sister after this is the only thing keeping her going, then telling her isn’t going to help either of us.
I decide then I can’t tell her... I won’t.
“Ivan, walk out with me.” Rossi’s voice drags me out of my thoughts and as he makes his way toward the door.
I get up, shoving the chair away. I follow Rossi outside until we are in the hallway and out of earshot.
“Ivan, you’re going to be one of the few people who actually knows where I’ll be.” His dark evil gaze pierces mine. A long time ago, I looked up to him, but since Violet, all I see him as is a vile monster... a man consumed with an uncanny need to destroy. “I hope I can trust you with this, Ivan.”
“Of course, always… boss.”
Chapter Thirteen
Violet
The cut on the palm of my hand throbs, and I have half a mind to take one of those knockout pills to ease some of the pain, but I remember how vulnerable that would make me, so I decide against it. I’ll take the pain in my hand over being raped while unconscious any day. Yulie might be dead but that doesn't mean there aren't others who would try and get to me.
Only a few minutes until dinnertime... I smile in cheerful happiness.
Noises out in the hall reach my ears and have me sitting up a little straighter. Moments later, the food flap on my door opens and a tray is shoved inside. A sandwich. What a surprise, the same thing as always.
I sit down on my mattress and nibble on the stale bread that holds no flavor, even with the bologna smashed in between. Would it kill them to slap some mayo on here? I put the plate by side of the bed, hoping Ivan has something a little more edible at his place.
As if he hears me thinking of him, the jingle of keys followed by the door opening grabs my full attention. Ivan appears in the door, and I jump up from the mattress, running for the door. He carries me to his place as he always does and deposits me on the couch, closing and locking the door behind us. “I need to take a look at your hand, Kitten, since I didn’t get to this morning.”
Ivan’s gray eyes seem darker than normal tonight, and I wonder what happened today, how his meeting went?
“
Okay.” I watch him get the first aid kit from the kitchen and my stomach growls, reminding me that I haven't really eaten.
“Do you have something I can eat? Turns out the bologna sandwiches aren’t that good.”
He grins at me. “Sure, I don’t have a lot here. We have a small canteen downstairs where I usually eat, but I’ll find you something when I’m done looking at your hand.” He sits down next to me and unwraps my hand, shaking his head. “I’m sorry... I should have asked you if you were hungry.”
“It’s okay, you already do so much for me. It’s not your job to ask me about things like when I last ate.”
His angelic features turn into a frown. “It will never be enough, Kitten, never…” He cleans my cut again and smears some ointment on it but doesn't rewrap my hand.
“Come on, let’s find you something to eat.”
He leads me to the kitchen and makes me sit down on a chair. I watch him search through the cabinets and peek in the refrigerator before gazing at me over his shoulder.
“How about some oatmeal with apples?”
“That sounds amazing.” I smile.
He makes me some oatmeal on the two-burner stovetop, and I can’t keep my eyes off of him. Watching him do this mundane task is oddly comforting. Especially knowing that he is doing it for me. It gives me a sense of false hope that maybe someday we could actually be together, we could do this somewhere else, somewhere safe.
A few minutes later, he sits a bowl of warm oatmeal topped with cut-up apples in front of me. I dive in, shoving steaming hot spoonfuls into my mouth. Each bite lands heavily in my belly. I catch him looking at me as I vigorously eat the delicious meal. I feel like a slob, and embarrassment starts to heat my cheeks.
“Sorry.” I try and eat a little slower, but he just smiles.
“Eat however you want, Kitten. You don’t have to hide the fact that you’re hungry.” He takes the seat across the table, and I decide to change the subject.
“How was your meeting?” I curiously ask while finishing up my oatmeal at a much slower, far less sloppy pace.