Becoming His Pet

by Stone, Measha

  It was almost laughable, the bullshit spewing out of his fat face.

  Greg looked at Nora. “No. Nora, he’s lying.” If only he’d had the backing of the FBI, he could have kept Nora locked down in a much safer location. He wouldn’t be staring down the barrel of some street thug on the side of the damn highway.

  Nora’s jaw dropped, and her brow wrinkled. The confusion, the mistrust, it was all warring inside of her now, right in front of him, and he couldn’t get to her to help.

  “Nora. He’s fucking lying,” he said again, firmer this time. How the hell could he convince her? She’d been raised with the idea that the FBI was always a few steps behind the Santinellis. It didn’t matter that her father protected her from the life as much as he could, keeping her hidden away from his friends and associates, she knew the risk of his work.

  “I heard you on the phone. You were talking to someone, taking orders or something. I heard you.” She spoke softly. “Yesterday, when I was in the shower,” she continued.

  Greg thought back, what conversation had she overheard? He’d made a few calls while she had been in the shower.

  “Nora, no. I can explain that. I’m not working with anyone.” Which call had she heard? He hadn’t been taking orders from anyone. He’d spoken with John briefly and then Blake. Which conversation had she listened in on?

  “Why were you at the flower shop then?” Nora asked with a narrowed gaze.

  A bubble of laughter burst in his chest, but he managed to keep it in check. The entire situation was completely fucking absurd.

  “Because I was running errands for Aubree. She needed carnations for Bella’s swim class graduation.” Life had been so simple then. Grab milk, check. Gas up the car, check. Ordering carnations for the three-year-old’s swim class had been his undoing.

  “Elenora, you need to come with me now. I need to get you somewhere safe. When I meet with the Santinelli brothers tomorrow, I’ll explain everything and we can figure out what happens next. But you must come with me now.” Bernie held out his hand.

  “Nora.” One word, but with it a plea. To believe him. To trust him.

  Nora looked at him, her jaw tight and tears in her eyes. She’d made her decision. And it wasn’t the one that meant she’d be getting back in his car.

  “You won’t hurt him, Bernie, right? If I go with you? You’ll leave him alone, and his brother’s family. I don’t want them hurt.” Nora’s voice went hard, while she negotiated with him.

  Greg clenched his teeth.

  “Dammit, Nora! No.”

  “If you don’t shut up and let the lady talk you’re gonna find yourself without a tongue,” the shorter assailant snapped at him. Greg turned his aim on him. Three shots. He could take them all out in three quick shots before any of them got a shot off at him. But Nora was moving again. Taking steps toward the fat old man fucking everything up.

  “I promise you, Elenora. No harm will come to his family.”

  Nora paused. “Or him, Bernie. I don’t want him hurt,” she said forcefully.

  Bernie sighed and shook his head. “Fine. If you’ll get in the back of the car, we can get going.”

  Nora gave Greg one last look and disappeared into the back of the SUV. Rage burned through Greg’s chest. He lunged forward, but a shot rang out. Fire coursed through his left foot and he stumbled to the ground.

  “Now, you forget all about Elenora and the Santinelli family, Mr. Turner,” Bernie sneered at him from behind the safety of his goons.

  “You lied to her.” Greg’s gun was at his side, but with the blood pouring out of his foot, and the other two assholes still training their weapons on him, it may as well have been locked in the trunk.

  “I told her what she needed to hear. Now. I will honor my promise to leave your family alone, and I’ll even let you live. But you can’t go running off after us. Boys, handle it. But be quick.” Bernie turned his back on the scene and climbed into the back seat with Nora.

  Another shot rang out, then another. Pain followed.

  Then nothing.

  Chapter Twenty

  Nora stood in the middle of the bedroom Bernie stashed her in when they arrived at his condo in Chicago. Something was wrong. Everything felt wrong.

  She wiped her eyes again. Tears wouldn’t stop coming. Her throat was still hoarse from all the screaming she did in the SUV after Bernie climbed in beside her and his men began tearing into Greg.

  The assholes hadn’t even made it a fair fight. The shot to his foot hadn’t been enough, they’d let one loose in his arm as well before they pounded on him with their fists and feet.

  Nora had tried to get out, to get to him, but Bernie had held her back. His tone changed, his orders were harsh and laced with the promise of pain if she didn’t do what he said.

  When they’d driven away, she clung to the window, praying to see Greg get up. But he laid there, blood pooling around his foot, covering his arm. He laid there on the ground, crumpled and unconscious. Even if he was awake, they’d shot out his tires. That had to mean he was still alive, though, right?

  Bernie wouldn’t answer any of her questions on the way back to Chicago. He told her to remain quiet. She’d sunk into the leather seat and bit her lip, saying silent prayers that Greg would be okay.

  And that he would come find her.

  She’d been so fucking stupid.

  The door to the bedroom opened and a young woman dressed in a casual maid’s uniform walked in carrying a tray.

  “Breakfast,” she said with a smile and placed the silver tray down on the small table near the bed. “Scrambled eggs, bacon, and buttered toast. I wasn’t sure if you liked tea or coffee, so I brought both.” She waved at the two pots.

  “Is Bernie still here?” Nora asked, ignoring the food. It smelled beyond tasty, but she wasn’t interested. She hungered for information, not scrambled eggs.

  “No. He left for a meeting half an hour ago. He said to make sure you ate and showered. He’ll be expecting to see you at lunch.” The smile fell from her lips with the instructions.

  “I think I might go for a walk before he comes back, do you know when he’ll be back?” Nora asked, edging her way toward the table.

  “No, and he said you weren’t to leave the room.”

  “The room or the condo?” Nora asked, eyeing the silverware on the tray. If she could get a hold of the knife, she might be able to use this maid as a way to get out.

  “The room, ma’am. He said I’m to keep the door locked. I’m sorry, for whatever has happened,” she quickly added.

  “Thank you for breakfast, it smells wonderful.” Nora flipped the napkin over to find the silverware set. A fork and spoon. Useless. She pushed a smile to her lips and regarded the maid.

  “There’s a phone on the nightstand, if you need something just pick up the receiver and the phone will ring in the kitchen,” she said and left the room. Nora listened for the soft click of the lock.

  Bernie had her locked away. Why?

  But he’d given her a phone. She could call for help. She’d call The Bar and check on Blake, tell him what happened to Greg. Surely, he’d go find him and get him help.

  Nora ran to the phone, freezing when she saw it. No dial pad. It was a one-way call to the servants, nothing more.

  Well, fuck.

  Nora sank down on the bed, rubbing her eyes again. She needed to think, figure a way out of this condo and back to Greg.

  If Greg was still alive.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  A consistent beep filled the room. Greg slowly opened his eyes, needing to find the fucking sound and wreck it. His head pounded, his body ached, the last thing he needed was that fucking alarm bothering him.

  “Hey, no, no, lay still.” Blake’s commanding voice was followed by his hands pushing Greg back to the bed by his shoulders.

  “Blake?” Greg blinked, bringing the focus in. His older brother stared down at him, concern written clearly across his face.

  “Wh
o else were you expecting? Your fairy godmother?” He tried to crack a joke, but it didn’t penetrate the worry in his eyes.

  Greg grimaced when he tried to move, and more pain blossomed in his side.

  “Man, stop wiggling around. You have two broken ribs, a gunshot wound to your foot and your damn arm. Just stay still for a minute.”

  Greg nodded, sinking back into the pillow. That was a good idea. If he didn’t move, the pain wasn’t so bad. He closed his eyes and waved away Blake when he started fiddling with the IV. Greg couldn’t care less if it was tangled in his arm, he just needed to get that beeping out of his head.

  “Stop that fucking beeping machine,” Greg growled and shoved Blake again.

  “I don’t think you’re supposed to touch stuff.” Aubree’s sweet voice floated into the conversation.

  An immense wave of relief washed over Greg. They were safe. All three of them were safe. Next came the head-pounding realization.

  “Where’s Nora?” He bolted up in bed, ignoring the pain in his side. “Where is she?”

  Aubree looked at Blake then to Greg.

  “Greg, she wasn’t with you,” Blake answered. “We were waiting to ask you.”

  “Bernie! We have to go.” Greg started to swing his legs over the side of the bed, but Blake held him back.

  “Whoa, no. Just wait. You can’t go anywhere. You were fucking shot, Greg! Shot!” He pointed to his arm. The throbbing in his foot reminded him well enough he’d been shot twice but it didn’t matter. He had to get to Nora before something horrible happened.

  Bernie hadn’t tracked her down to keep her safe. He had another game to play.

  “Nora’s not safe,” Greg announced.

  “Okay, I get that, but you aren’t going to get as far as the elevators in your hospital gown and messed-up foot.” Blake and his damn logic. Greg didn’t have the luxury of waiting to heal. Nora was in danger right now.

  “How’d you find me?” Greg asked. He hadn’t gotten back to his car to get his phone. The last clear memory he had was of a boot coming straight for his face.

  “I got a call at The Bar. Said where to find you,” Blake said, his arms crossing over his chest.

  “Where’s Bella?” Greg looked to Aubree.

  “She’s fine, Greg. She’s with John and Julie.” Aubree placed a hand on his chest.

  “They came home?” Greg asked.

  “When I couldn’t get straight answers from you and the stories about Nora kept playing on the news I asked him to look into it for me. After John talked with you, they came straight back, Greg. She’s tied up in some nasty business,” Blake explained.

  “She doesn’t know anything about the Santinelli business.”

  “I know she doesn’t. But that doesn’t make her less tangled up in it. Julie has Bella at a safe house, which is exactly where my wife is heading once John gets her to pick her up. Then you and I are going to find Nora. You can’t do this one on your own, little brother.”

  Greg nodded. He was right. Going up against Bernie and whoever else was behind this fucking mess was more than one man could handle on his own. He wouldn’t let his ego get in the way of keeping Nora safe. He’d already failed her by letting her go, now he needed to get her back.

  “I know that look,” Aubree laughed, patting his chest. “This isn’t your fault. I’ll get the doctor. You two can bully him into giving you whatever they need to, so you can get out of here.”

  “No, you’re staying in here with Greg, and I’ll go talk to the doctor.” Blake wiggled his phone in the air. “Just got the text John’s on his way up to get you. You just stay put.”

  “I’m not—”

  Blake’s glare cut her off.

  “I was going to say I’m not going to argue.”

  Blake laughed. “Right.”

  John showed up in the doorway a minute later. “I have a man downstairs waiting. He’ll take you to the safe house. Don’t do anything unless he gives the okay, Aubree. I mean it, no heroics.”

  Greg suppressed a laugh when she rolled her eyes.

  “Whatever. Just get me to my little girl, but I thought you were taking me.”

  John shook his head. “No. I’m staying with these boneheads. They’re going to need all the help they can get going up against Bernie Santinelli.”

  “Santinelli? He’s one of them?” Greg asked. Nora hadn’t told him that. Though he shouldn’t be surprised given how hard it had been to get simple truths from her.

  “Yeah. Though he goes by a different name. Took his mother’s name or some shit. But he works beside the head of the family. From what I found, he’s been living up in Wisconsin working a different branch of the business.”

  “Which branch?” Greg asked with a heaviness building in his stomach.

  “Sex trafficking. There’s not enough to tie him to anything solid enough to take him down but he’s being watched,” John explained.

  “Trafficking. Nora said he was friends with her dad, almost like an uncle to her.”

  “Well, let’s hope he has the same feelings toward her,” John said with a nod.

  Sex trafficking.

  The men at the flower shop had said they had business with Nora.

  Fuck.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Bernie didn’t come home for lunch like the maid had told Nora. But another tray of food did appear around noon. A salad and soup combo.

  It went untouched, just like the scrambled eggs from breakfast.

  Night began to fall outside, the sun set, and the street lights below turned on. As far as she could tell, her room sat on the twelfth floor. Jumping out the window obviously would be a bad choice.

  Grunting her frustration at the situation, she went back to pacing the room and worrying about Greg. Someone had to have found him on the highway and helped him. He was bound to be tucked away in a hospital bed somewhere being treated.

  And while convincing herself he was at least safe made her feel a little better, it did nothing to improve her mood about her own situation.

  Could Bernie have been right? Was Greg working with the government to take down the Santinelli family?

  If he had been, he would have told her. Greg was damn clear on truth and lies, he wouldn’t have kept that from her. Especially since she didn’t know anything about the family other than wanting to find out the truth about her father.

  He wouldn’t have kept that from her.

  Unless he was using her to get in contact with the family. Maybe he thought he could use her as leverage to get inside and get information.

  Nothing seemed clear anymore!

  Obviously, Bernie wasn’t the man she’d thought he was. She’d seen him as an uncle growing up, and after her father died, he’d been there for her. But an uncle wouldn’t lock her up in his penthouse and hurt the people she loved.

  Flopping herself on the bed, she clenched her eyes shut. Did she love Greg? If she had loved him, wouldn’t she have trusted him? Given him a chance to explain what Bernie was telling her? Wouldn’t she have listened to him and stayed with him?

  The problem was she did trust him. She completely believed in him, and knew whatever Bernie was telling her about him was an out and out lie. Going with Bernie hadn’t been about choosing him over Greg. It had been to keep Greg and his family safe.

  She’d caused him enough trouble. He had been hiding something, that phone call still played over and over in her mind, but she knew he would have an explanation. If she’d given him the chance to tell her.

  “Still haven’t eaten.” Bernie’s voice filled the room when he barged in.

  Nora bounded from the bed to square off with him. He ignored her bravado and went to the tray, still untouched, and the food now cold.

  “I’m not hungry,” she said flatly.

  Bernie placed the lid back on the plate and turned to her, a dark, cold glare settling on her. “I didn’t ask if you were hungry. You need to eat. I’ll have a sandwich brought up for you after we
’ve talked.”

  “Is Greg all right?” She leapt to the first question burning on her tongue.

  A smirk crossed his lips. “Of course you’d ask about that asshole first. Yes, he’s fine. His brother picked him up and dusted him off. And he’ll stay fine so long as he doesn’t meddle in my business again.” Bernie pointed a fat, wrinkled finger at her.

  Why hadn’t she noticed how old he looked? His hair was graying, much more than her father’s had. Wrinkles had taken over the sides of his eyes and around his mouth. Too many Italian beef sandwiches had settled around his belly.

  “What about me? Why are you keeping me locked up here?” she asked, trying to iron the shake from her voice. Just because she was terrified didn’t mean she needed to let him have the satisfaction of knowing it.

  “Because I don’t want you leaving,” he answered with a shrug.

  “I don’t understand.” She sank to the bed again, pressing her palms into her knees.

  Bernie tsked his tongue. “So much like your mother.” Bernie walked over to her. “You look like her, too. Dark hair, trim build. Tiny tits.” He grabbed her breast and squeezed. She jumped back, but he held onto her. “Yes, just like your mother.” He laughed and released her.

  “My mother died when I was a toddler, before you knew Dad. How could you know her?” Nora held a protective arm over her chest and scrambled away from him on the king-sized bed. He’d have to walk around the bed if he wanted to touch her again.

  Bernie laughed. “You know, your father didn’t do you any favors hiding so much of his life from you. Lying to you about your mother.” His smile dropped a fraction, enough for his depravity to slip through. “Your mother didn’t die when you were a toddler. She lived longer than your father, but not by much.”

  “What?” Nora hissed. “What does that mean? When did she die? Why wasn’t she with us?”

  “Because I took her.” Bernie sighed and looked at his watch. “I really don’t have much time, so I’ll give you the short history. I run a very profitable business, and one of my clients showed a lot of interest in your mother. But I knew your father would never agree, so I took it upon myself to make the deal. She passed away last year, shortly after your father. Some lung infection, I think. Anyway, her owner wants a replacement and has offered twice what he paid for her, for you. You look just like her, like I said.”