by Julia Sykes
Joseph snarled and took a step forward. I winced when Ricky dug the gun deeper into my side.
Joseph froze again, his body vibrating with suppressed violence.
“Go on in,” Ricky told him. “Your old man is waiting for you.”
“You don’t work for my father,” Joseph said. “You work for Costa. Why are you here?”
The pressure of the gun eased slightly just before it slammed back into my ribs. My pained cry caught against his hand, and Joseph’s face twisted with rage.
“Go in,” Ricky repeated, his tone silky with vindictive malice. “We’ll be right behind you.”
Joseph reached behind him for the doorknob, but he didn’t turn away from me. He kept his eyes trained on the gun at my side.
He was so busy watching me that he didn’t see the man waiting on the other side of the door. He didn’t see the flash of steel just before the knife slammed into his lower back. His eyes flew wide, his mouth falling open. For a second, he didn’t make a sound.
Then, the man wrenched the knife free, and Joseph fell to his knees with a harsh shout.
I screamed and twisted against Ricky’s hold, struggling to get to the man I loved. I managed to get my mouth free from beneath his hand, and I sank my teeth into his fingers. He released me with a curse, but I didn’t get a step away from him before the gun slammed into the side of my head.
Pain cracked through my skull, and I heard Joseph say my name.
The world flickered around me, and I blinked hard, willing everything to stop spinning.
I realized I was on the floor, my cheek pressed against cool tiles. Something warm and wet trickled through my hair, but I couldn’t think about that.
All I could focus on was Joseph’s pale face, his gorgeous features drawn tight with pain and panic. He struggled to his feet, but Ricky pushed him back down with a hard shove to his shoulder and trained his gun on the back of Joseph’s head.
Gritting my teeth against the pounding pain in my skull, I tried to stand, to go to Joseph.
I didn’t make it to my knees before a man’s hand tangled in my hair, jerking me up to my feet.
“Let the girl go, Gabriel,” Mr. Russo demanded.
I struggled to get my bearings. Joseph’s father sat in his chair at the head of the table, but a man stood behind him, with a gun pressed against the side of his skull.
“I don’t think so,” the man holding me—Gabriel—said. “I was going to finally kill you, Dominic. When everyone finds out your son’s a fag, no one would bat an eye at eradicating your family. You’re obviously too weak to take Lombardi’s place. But I don’t think I’ll have to kill you, after all. Are you going to cry, Dominic?”
Mr. Russo’s eyes were shining as he stared at Joseph. No matter his feelings about Joseph allegedly being gay, Mr. Russo loved his son.
“I won’t have to kill you,” Gabriel continued. “I won’t have to shed first blood. Your faggot son doesn’t count. But watching him die will break you. Everyone will know you’re not fit to control our family.”
Every fiber of my being rebelled at his words. Joseph wasn’t going to die. I couldn’t let him die.
I twisted in his hold, ignoring the pain as some of my hair was ripped out of my scalp. I managed to drive my elbow into his doughy stomach. The air whooshed out of his lungs, and his grip on me eased as he doubled over, wheezing.
I ran toward Joseph, throwing myself at Ricky with a defiant shriek. His eyes widened, and he was too surprised to react in time.
I didn’t know how to fight, but I did know how to hurt a man. I slammed into him with enough momentum to shove him and his gun away from Joseph. Then, I rammed my knee up into his balls.
He dropped to his knees, clutching at his crotch and gasping for air.
“Joseph,” I sobbed, struggling to get my shoulders under his arm to help him to his feet.
He got one foot down to support himself, but his boot slipped in a pool of his blood, and he went back down.
“Stupid bitch.” Gabriel’s fingers dug into my upper arm, and I shrieked as he wrenched me away from Joseph.
He spun my body away from his and threw me onto the table. My head cracked against the wood, making my skull throb and my stomach turn. His hand pressed between my shoulders, pinning me down hard enough that my breasts ached against the unyielding table.
I heard the sound of a belt buckle being loosened, a zipper being lowered.
Joseph snarled, and I felt something hard pressing against my ass.
“Your son can watch me fuck his whore while he bleeds out,” Gabriel told Mr. Russo.
I screamed and slapped my sweaty palms against the polished wood, struggling to get free. But Gabriel had me trapped, his hand pinning me in place while his hips trapped mine against the edge of the table.
A shot rang out, and I screamed again, fearing for Joseph.
A heavy weight fell onto my back, driving the air from my lungs.
Two more shots, in quick succession.
“Ashlyn!”
“Marco,” I sobbed his name.
The weight was lifted from my back, and I realized Gabriel’s dead body had fallen onto me. I watched Marco heave his lifeless form aside before he reached for me, running his hands over my body to check for injuries.
The man who had held a gun on Mr. Russo was on the floor, moaning and clutching his shoulder. Marco’s father stood over him, his head cocked to one side. His black eyes betrayed no emotion when he emptied another round into the man’s skull. He looked up at Mr. Russo and nodded, as though everything was handled.
“Joseph,” I gasped, trying to move past Marco to get to him.
Joseph lay on his side, blood pooling around him. At first, I thought it was all Joseph’s blood. But then I saw Ricky’s ruined face, and I realized a lot of it was flowing from the hole in his skull.
I gagged, but I focused my attention back on Joseph. I struggled past Marco, stumbling to my knees beside Joseph. He wasn’t moving, and his eyes were closed. But I could see his chest rising and falling.
He’s not dead. He’s not going to die.
I heard Mr. Russo shouting into his phone for an ambulance, saying something about a robbery. I wasn’t sure how he planned to cover up three murders, but I didn’t care. All I cared about was getting Joseph to the hospital.
Marco joined me, his face drawn with fear as he reached for Joseph’s hand. I took Joseph’s other hand in mine. I squeezed his fingers, willing him to squeeze mine back.
He didn’t stir.
I choked on a sob, and I leaned into Marco’s chest for support.
He can’t die. I couldn’t lose Joseph, or I’d lose half my heart.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Joseph
My recent memories were fuzzy. I’d drifted in and out for… How long?
I wasn’t sure. All I knew was there were moments of pain, and then a warm fog would take it away.
Someone’s hand covered mine. But it wasn’t the small, soft hand I craved.
Ashlyn.
The last thing I could remember clearly was her pained expression as Gabriel Costa ripped her away from me.
My eyes snapped open, and I jolted forward. An erratic beeping sounded around me, but I ignored it, as well as the pain that knifed through my lower back.
“Easy, son.” Dad’s hand left mine to touch my shoulder, guiding me back down onto the hospital bed.
“Ashlyn,” I ground out her name as I gritted my teeth against the pain. I had to get to her. I had to know she was safe.
“Ashlyn is fine. She’s with Marco.” My father’s lips twisted around the last statement.
“Costa,” I growled his name, remembering the way he and his men had hurt her. “Where is he?”
“He’s dead. Leo killed him.” He didn’t even blink when he told me Marco’s dad had killed his rival. “That little shit Matteo ran straight to Gabriel after he saw… Well, after he saw you. Marco and Leo tracked him down and found out that Gabriel had
“Leo’s in lockup at the moment,” Dad added. “We couldn’t fully explain everything away as a robbery gone wrong. But I’m sure he’ll post bail and be out in no time.”
I nodded, not really caring about Marco’s dad. He always managed to get out of serving jail time. I was sure he’d manage it again.
“What about you?” I asked. “Have the cops been hassling you?” I might not like my father’s criminal lifestyle, but I didn’t want him to go to jail.
“I’ll be fine. Don’t worry about me, son. Just focus on getting better.”
But I couldn’t focus on that. I couldn’t focus on anything but Ashlyn. I wouldn’t be able to rest until I saw she was safe.
“Where are Ashlyn and Marco?”
Dad sighed, his expression drooping with disappointment. “I told them they couldn’t see you yet. I wanted to talk to you.” His pale eyes glinted, his jaw firming with anger. “And they’re not your family.”
“They are,” I countered. “I know you don’t understand, but they are my family, Dad.”
“No, I don’t understand. But I don’t want to see my only son murdered because he’s… Because of his unorthodox choices.” I knew he was swallowing a dirtier word, and I appreciated his tact.
“Once you’re better, you’re going to have to leave New York,” he continued. “All of you. Ashlyn doesn’t belong here, and Marco’s not welcome here anymore, either.”
I knew my father would think of my exile as a punishment, but he had no idea the gift he’d just given me: a way out.
“Thanks, Dad,” I said earnestly. “Are we all right? I mean, I know you’re not happy about all this, but we’re still on speaking terms, right?”
His eyes sparkled with a glimmer of tears. “I thought I was going to lose you. I thought you were going to bleed out on the floor while I watched. Maybe, if that hadn’t happened, I’d throw you out and never speak to you again. As it is…” He swiped at the wetness on his face. “Call me anytime, son. If you ever need anything, just call me.”
“I will,” I promised. “What about Mom? How is she taking all this?”
He waved his hand dismissively. “Your mother is furious at Ashlyn for stealing you away. Give her some time, and she’ll cool off. She loves you, too.”
“Can I see her? Ashlyn, I mean. I want to see her and Marco.”
Dad’s lips thinned when I mentioned Marco’s name, but he nodded. “I’ll go tell them they can come in.”
“Thanks, Dad,” I said, more grateful for his loving nature than ever. My father might be a ruthless criminal, but he loved me and cared about my happiness.
Dad slipped out the door, and a minute later, Ashlyn burst into the room. She held a handful of colorful get-well-soon balloons, and she pulled Marco along in her wake. From the bemused expression on his face, he was happy to be pulled wherever she wanted him to go.
Ashlyn rushed to my side and released the balloons in her haste to grab my hand. Marco caught them before they could float away and knotted the ribbons to the guardrail on my hospital bed.
“Joseph,” she said my name on a relieved sigh. She looked like she wanted to fling herself on top of me and hold me close, but she stopped herself, settling for holding my hand. “I was so worried about you,” she said, tears spilling from her lovely sapphire eyes.
I reached up and wiped them away. “I’m okay, angel.”
I caught her chin between my thumb and forefinger, turning her face so I could inspect her. One of the last things I could remember was Ricky hitting her with his gun.
I locked eyes with Marco, knowing he’d give me an honest answer. “How is she?”
Physically, she looked fine, but my memories were hazy, and I couldn’t recall everything that had happened after I got stabbed.
Marco wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her close. “Our girl’s a fighter. She’s okay.”
“Yes, I’m fine,” she insisted. “But you need to rest,” she told me firmly. “I’m going to call the nurse to get you more pain meds.”
“Don’t,” I insisted. “I want to talk to you. Both of you.”
Marco hit the call button for the nurse. “Talk fast. Then, rest.”
I glared at him for being so high-handed, but I didn’t waste time arguing. “We’re leaving New York,” I told them. “Dad says we have to.”
Marco’s eyes lit up with hope. “What?”
“We’re out, Marco. We can leave. They don’t want us here anymore.”
“Really?” Ashlyn gasped, her tears falling faster. “It’s over? We can all go back to Cambridge now?”
“Is that where you want to go?” I asked her. “You don’t have to go back to Harvard if you don’t want to.”
“I’d love to go back. I want to finish school. On my terms.”
I squeezed her hand. “Then that’s what we’ll do, angel.”
The nurse appeared, ready to administer more pain meds. I thought about refusing, but one hard look from Marco silenced me.
“We’ll be right here when you wake up,” he promised.
Ashlyn brushed a kiss over my cheek. “Get some rest. I love you, Joseph.”
Her words of love followed me down as I sank back into sleep.
Epilogue
Marco
Six Months Later
Ashlyn whined and wiggled in Joseph’s ropes. Her arms were drawn tight behind her, bound from shoulders to wrists. A blindfold covered her lovely eyes, and he’d just introduced her to a wicked new toy: nipple clamps.
She was on her knees in the middle of the bed, and he loomed behind her, stroking her skin in a teasing caress that drove her wild.
I increased my pace, my hand flying over the page as my light pencil strokes captured the beauty before me. I used to draw from memory, but now that I was taking my art more seriously, I wanted a live model. Ashlyn was the perfect woman for the job.
When I could pry her away from the Harvard library and urge Joseph away from his classes at Tufts University, I’d get them to help me with my sensual drawings. I was developing something of an online following, and I was able to sell my work. I’d even started earning enough to cover our bills for the little house we’d bought outside Boston. Dad had given me a chunk of cash and a “good riddance” on my way out of New York, but being with my new family—Joseph and Ashlyn—eased the sting of abandonment. And being able to help support us financially gave me a sense of personal pride I’d never known before.
Ashlyn let out the sexiest little whimper, and I couldn’t hold back any longer. I set my drawing aside and snapped a picture on my phone for later reference. My balls ached and my dick throbbed, desperate to get inside her. I couldn’t sit back and sketch for even a second more.
I had to fuck her, had to touch her. I was as addicted to her as ever, and so was Joseph. Our pretty, clever little princess. She was focusing on her academics, but I knew that ultimately, her dream was to have a family. With both of us. We didn’t bother to hide our unconventional relationship, now that we were free of our families’ expectations. We made our own choices and lived to make each other happy. No one else mattered.
Joseph noticed that I’d set my work aside. He shot me a wicked grin and removed the clamps from Ashlyn’s nipples. She shrieked and writhed as blood rushed back to the abused buds. Joseph petted her wet pussy, making her cry morph into a desperate little whine.
I closed the distance between us and removed her blindfold. She stared up at me, her shining eyes dark with erotic pain. She’d taken to Joseph’s games beautifully, but I’d always be here to take care of her when he was a little harsh with her.
I cupped her jaw and traced the line of her lower lip with my thumb.
“Poor little princess,” I cooed. “Did Joseph hurt your pretty nipples?”
“Yes, Daddy,” she whispered, tipping her head back as Joseph continued to stroke her swollen labia.
“I’ll kiss it better,” I promised, dropping to my knees by the edge of the bed. I captured one of the abused buds between my lips, gently rubbing away the discomfort with my tongue.
She groaned and thrust her chest toward my mouth, welcoming more. I moved my attention to her other nipple, soothing it as well. After a minute, she began to moan and rock her hips against Joseph’s hand, seeking more stimulation.
“I think our girl needs to be fucked,” I told Joseph.
“I think so too,” he agreed, his voice deep with his own, darker lust. “She’s earned it.”
“Yes,” she begged. “Please, Sir. Please, Daddy.”
My cock jerked toward her, and Joseph’s jaw clenched with his own need. He was already naked, and I quickly undressed so I could join them.
Joseph lay down on his back, and I shifted Ashlyn so she straddled his hips, facing away from him. He scooted her to the edge of the bed, and when I stood, her lips lined up with my dick.
“Lower yourself onto Joseph’s cock.” She’d been such a good girl, waiting for my command.
His fingers curved into her hips, controlling her pace as he slowly guided her down onto his length. Once he was fully inside her, I brushed my cockhead against her lips, letting her taste my pre-cum.
She knew better than to try to suck me off right away. While Joseph gripped her hips and guided her to ride his cock, she started to kiss my dick, licking me and pressing her lips against me. I stared down at her, intoxicated by her reverence for me, by her innocent, complete devotion. Ashlyn didn’t hold anything back; she eagerly gave herself to both Joseph and me. Despite the dirty things we did to her, she was just as pure and perfect as she’d been when we’d first met her.
“Open up, babygirl,” I ordered, no longer able to stand her soft kisses. I needed the wet heat of her sweet mouth around me.
Her lips parted, and she welcomed me in as I slid all the way back to her throat. My girl had always been good a sucking cock, but in the last few months, I’d taught her exactly how Daddy liked it.
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