“Diabetic?” I mutter, ripping open another wrapper.
“Right. Of course. You need to keep meals regular, too. I’ve done a little research on it.” My brow cocks. I suppose she would have done. “Which type is it by the way?”
“Irrelevant,” I blurt out. The last thing I want to do is discuss the intricacies of the disease, or how fucking pathetic it can make me. Certainly not in front of someone I’m interested in. She knows; that’s enough as far as I’m concerned. It’s more than any other woman has ever gotten out of me.
I push off the counter and reach back into the fridge, searching for more food. There isn’t enough here to keep me going, or anything with any decent nutritional content. I reach for the phone to call up some room service, tipping the menu at her. “You want anything?”
“God no. I’ll go shower if this is what you’re going to do,” she says, sliding from the stool and picking up her soda. “Actually, yes. Some fries or something.”
I watch her ass walking away from me as the room service voice comes across the line. I don’t even know what I’m ordering as I mumble the order and swipe my brow clean of sweat. I’m too busy checking out fine legs walking away from me, as she lifts the back of the shirt up to throw it at the couch. Toned. Long. And too steady for my liking given the fucking we’ve been into. She should be staggering not walking like she owns the goddamn world.
I end the call and shake my head back to the here and now, reaching for my soda again and smiling. Feels good to smile like this. Don't know why. It's intrigue, I think. Or maybe just the fact that I’ve finally got what I wanted. Stupidly maybe, but who gives a damn? I lick my lips and down some more drink, heading over to the window to look out at the view again before I go get my shot. It’s beautiful in its own way at this time of day. Lights twinkle from the boats out there, hazy, the beach line starting to light up with hanging lines of more decorations. The sea’s turning black as coal, though. Blue turning darker by the minute. I'd find another metaphor in there if I could keep my mind off fucking. I chuckle.
Apparently, I can’t.
My phone rings in my hand, breaking my contemplation of all the shit we’re getting back into the moment I’ve eaten and calmed my body back to normal. Fuck steady legs. Not on my watch. She’s about to find out exactly what being with me is all about, more so than she did yesterday. Another grin breaks across my face at the thought, and then I look at the number on screen. Fuck.
Vico.
Every goddamn thought of fun vanishes from my mind as I look at his name flashing on the screen. Much as I might want to toss the device aside and sink into her for a few more hours without thought, only a fool would ignore him completely. Not only do I not run, I’m no damn fool either. Debatable given who’s in my shower at the moment, I know, but the meeting needs setting up one way or another. I said I’d take whatever was coming for me, and I will.
I hit answer and lift the phone to my ear, waiting.
“I think you have something that belongs to me.” His words are direct, low and menacingly calm. I nod at the window, not able to find a suitable response and unsure if I even need one. “She’s precious to me, Carter. You knew that. Damn well knew it. No one fucks around with me and gets away with it.”
My hackles rear up at the threat, a snarl covering my face as I listen to him walking somewhere. I can almost see him now, see his aggressive features coming for me. I pull in a long breath and stare out at the ocean, my brain coming up with all kinds of metaphors now this shit just became a reality.
“Have you touched her?”
What a fucking question to have to answer. Aggressive. Direct. To the point. Everything that Vico is. Still, no running.
“Yes.”
That’s all I’ve got. I’m not lying, and I’m big enough and strong enough to take the hiding I’m gonna get for it as long as I’m prepared.
“That was unwise.”
Probably. I listen to the sound of the shower in the background, partly agreeing with his statement but still not regretting a goddamn thing, and head for my case in the bedroom. “Never had you down as a stupid fuck before this, Carter.”
A sudden battering on the door has me swinging my head back towards it, phone pinned to my ear. It happens again, and again, until it finally bursts inwards.
“Time’s up for a dead man,” he murmurs across the line.
Three guys storm in, Vico kind of trouble all over their harsh features, and I slide the phone into my back pocket, readying myself for a fight. My eyes flick to the bedroom again, knowing both Fia, my blade and my gun are in there. No fucking chance of getting to either now these fuckers are in my way, unless I barrel my way through them.
“Get dressed,” one of them snaps.
Fuck that. No way am I going anywhere with these cunts. I’m speaking with Vico and no one else. I walk straight up to them, fists tightening if I need them.
“Get the fuck out,” I snarl quietly. “I’ll meet him. No one else. You wanna try something, come back with more than three of you.”
Both the second and third of the three creep around the side of me until I’m surrounded, no way out but battling. Fine by me. I eye them all, standing my ground and waiting. No one’s fucked me up for a long damn time, and I’ll take whatever Vico thinks necessary if I have to, but not from anyone but him. These three dicks will have broken bones the second they try touching me.
The second the cunt behind me reaches for me, I swing and floor him, spinning my body back round to get to either of the others. Too late, apparently, because the hit to my jaw sends me crashing into the side table, my feet just managing to keep me upright. I spin again and right myself, feet starting to bounce now I’ve felt the first strike. My hand waves them both on, eyes flicking to the other who’s slowly pulling himself up from the deck.
“The fuck kinda hit is that?” I spit at all of them, neck cracking out. “That all you’ve got?” That’s nothing to me. Quinn hits harder. Although, the goddamned room won't stop spinning. That's a fucking problem I'm not prepared for.
My head shakes as all three close in, and I glance at the bedroom door, moving myself towards it to block their access. They’re not getting in there; that’s for damn sure. I’ll die before I let any one of them touch her.
No one’s touching her now I have.
She belongs to me.
Twenty
The respite in the shower is certainly needed. My body has never felt so ... relaxed, but at the same time, energised. Like I have a new type of energy in my veins, and it’s satisfying in a way nothing else in my life has been. And after all the sex, I’m a little sore.
I’m careful to wash around the cuts that have started to heal up. Carter was right; there isn’t going to be a scar. Not like his, anyway. I think over Carter’s diagnosis and watching him inject at the restaurant and try and wrap my head around it. All the signs were there, now I have context for them. I just assumed that someone like Carter, so strong and young, wouldn’t be suffering from a disease like that. It’s become such a serious illness all over the world I’ve forgotten you don’t just develop diabetes because of poor life choices.
There’s a dull thud and something breaking shatters my peace and calm. My body strains to hear what the commotion is, and I shut off the water to listen for a moment.
Nothing.
“Carter?” My paranoia grows the longer he doesn’t answer me. I step out from the huge shower area and wrap myself in the marshmallow-soft robe that’s hanging on the door just for me.
With no other noises coming from the apartment, I step out into the main room, and my heart freezes in my chest.
Carter’s arm is twisted up behind his back by two men I’ve never seen before, and another man seems out cold by his feet. His eyes flick towards me and then to the door. I follow his line of sight right to my dad.
I instinctively pull the robe tighter around my body, as if it can hide more of my skin, or perhaps act as a shield for what I might be about
to face.
“Dad?” He doesn’t respond, just stands a few steps inside the room. His eyes bore into me and for only the second time in my life, I can see the man everyone is afraid of.
We stand locked in a silent standoff, neither of us wanting to make the first move. I don’t even know what I could start with to explain any of this beyond the obvious, which isn’t going to do anyone any good in this situation. “Dad?” I try again. His arm flies up, pointing at me. The instant he does, Carter moves to try to stand between us, elbowing one of the men holding him in the jaw and fighting to free himself and get to me.
“Carter!” I cry, now seeking him rather than my dad.
My body drops to the floor in a panic the second I see a gun being pulled. It only makes Carter fight harder even with the metal now being shoved in his face. Scared tears roll down my face as I realise the severity of the situation. As I see Carter still struggling, I crawl over to him, a vital part of me now desperate to try to help.
“Don’t you move, Sofia,” Dad’s voice booms out in the airy room. “Or I’ll put a bullet in his head right this second.”
My eyes fly to his, the reality of his words sinking in, and I obey and pull my robe around me. Vulnerability takes hold of me, transporting me back to being a little girl with the man I thought I knew. How wrong was I? He's everything I now know of him, and the tears continue to race down my face as I try to meet Carter’s eyes in the struggle.
His arms are bound behind his back, one of the men pinning him with his knee on the floor, and I can see redness on his jaw. When I look around, my eyes running over the guy beginning to wake up on the floor, I notice there are other signs of a fight. I watch him stand and right his clothing, his eyes immediately looking at my dad for instruction. Guilt falls heavily on my shoulders as my mind extrapolates the situation brewing out to a conclusion.
None of the scenarios are very promising.
The tension builds around us in the room as we all wait for the next move. It’s not obvious what will happen, and for a moment, I wish I weren’t here, that I didn’t bring my father right to Carter’s door.
With confidence I shouldn’t be feeling, I pull myself up from the floor and stand to look at Benjamin Vico.
“Fia,” Carter warns as he's dragged to his feet. I don’t listen, can't. This is my fault, all of it.
“What do you think you are doing here?” I question, with as much attitude as I can find.
Dad tilts his head and narrows his eyes like he’s working me out. “I think I warned you what I’d do. And I think the bigger question is why the fuck are you here? With this parasite?” His eyes stare right through me, but I hold my ground. I can’t back down.
“I’m nineteen years old. I can do as I please.”
“And I thought I told you the rules don’t apply to you. You are my child, Sofia fucking Vico. You don’t get to have a normal life. And you'll damn well do as you’re told from now on.”
“Well, sorry, Dad. I don’t care what you say. There is no way you can treat me like this.” I cross my arms as if the defiance will finally win him over.
He steps closer to me, leaving only inches between us. “You ran off to fuck this piece of shit. I thought I raised you better, Sofia. He’s just some lowly criminal Quinn decided to take under his wing. Fucking soft.”
His voice, his words, they crawl under my skin and break down the vision I’d held of my father for years. How can the man in front of me be the same person my mother loves? That I love? Loved.
“Don’t you talk about him that way. Not when you’re no better yourself.” My voice wobbles, ready to break, just like my heart.
“You wanted to be a Vico? Wanted to see what it was about? Well, now you can.” He grabs my neck and twists me, keeping me still and forcing me to watch as the two men let go of Carter. His hands are still tied up, but they aren’t holding him in place.
He looks to me, his eyes searching mine and I nod, telling him I’m okay. As soon as he gets that confirmation, the guy on the right slugs him in the stomach, while the other guy goes for the face again.
“No, stop!” I plead and try to run to help, but my dad’s grip is tight, and he doesn’t budge.
“Take him,” he commands. One raises his gun again and presses it to Carter’s skull while the other shoves him forward.
“Fia, it’s going to be okay. Stay calm.” His words are calm but that only makes me worry more, and my heart splinters for a whole other reason. My mind rushes to the worst conclusion, and right now, at this moment when I believe my father might have the man I’m choosing to be with killed, I hate him. It’s a hate that’s corrosive and evil and all encompassing.
“I hate you. I hate you for this.”
“You gave yourself to him. Scum. Someone as pure and innocent as you—he shouldn’t even be in the same fucking room with you. Go get dressed into something decent before I treat you the same as him.”
“Why? Why should I do anything you ask?” I try moving again, and this time, he allows me to turn.
“Because I told you to and I’m past having you defy me. Now go!”
My whole body shudders as his voice strips me of any courage I had to stand up to him. I rush towards the bedroom and slam the door behind me, locking out the hurt and pain.
“Don’t think you can hide in there. You’re going to see this through.” His voice echoes and the split second I thought I could stay hidden away vanishes. Besides, don’t I owe it to Carter to stay strong? To work through this and hope there’s a solution? To somehow reason with my father?
I exit after grabbing a clean pair of jeans and a top and tying my hair in a messy knot. My eyes are still bloodshot from the tears, but I don’t mind showing him what he’s done to me.
“Where are we going?” I ask, as I come back out. I look around, noticing no one else in the room anymore.
“To show you the consequence of your actions.”
My father keeps a grip on me for the entire journey down in the elevator and out to a waiting car. He doesn’t have a gun to my back, but it certainly feels like it. Another man I’ve never seen before swings the back door open to allow me in, my father close behind.
My heart and my head wage against each other over what to feel. Horrified, frightened, and fearful are winning at the moment. Sadness and utter grief are both threatening to swallow me up, but the hate that I first felt for Benjamin Vico, the hate that rose up within me, now festers and darkens anything I feel towards my father.
“Where are we going?” I venture after a couple of minutes, unable to take the stillness any longer. “Does Mom know why you’re here? Have you told her your plan?”
“She is none of your concern right now. She’s betrayed me as well and she certainly knows better,” he grates.
“What have you done?” Fear for my mom’s safety isn’t something I ever want to consider, but seeing this new side to him…
“Fuck your questions. You think you have a right to know anything now? Shut your mouth and think about what’s yet to come.”
The rest of the journey we sit in silence and thankfully it’s short, which doesn’t allow for much time to consider what altered universe I’m currently in. It does give me enough time to wonder how much his expensive suits have covered up over the years, though. What else this man I've loved is capable of.
As the car draws up next to a large building, I realise I’ve been here before. We’re at the docks where all the sordid revelations about my family started to unravel.
The driver opens the door for me, and I look around, hoping to catch a glimpse of Carter. I turn to look at Dad as he steps from the car, doing the button up on that expensive jacket as if he’s about to walk into a business meeting.
“Is this where you take all your dirty problems then, Dad? Bit of a fucking cliché, isn’t it?”
His hand is so fast and so direct that the blazing sting on my cheek registers before I realise what he’s done. The gasp is automat
ic, as is the rise of my hands to my face after the fact. I stare up into his eyes, fear filling me, and try to search for the man I used to know as my father. The throb in my cheek beats in time to my drumming heart and I know, as I step away from him, panic infusing every bone in my body, that everything in my world has just changed. The family I loved, the life I led. Nothing can, nor ever will, alter the reality that I now know is the truth.
Hitting me is a line that I never thought he’d cross, but it seems that Benjamin Vico is more concerned with his reputation than his role as my father. Then again, there have been a lot of firsts when it comes to him now.
He leads me inside the warehouse, his feet clacking at such a tempo that I struggle to keep up with his long strides. It’s just a huge empty space, the occasional bit of debris littering the edges, metal side-panelling and dark corners looking foreboding in the blackest of nights. And then I look into one of the far corners, drawn there by the sound of more feet moving, and see Carter being dragged towards me, a canvas sack over his head. “Carter!”
Twenty-One
The high-pitched yell from her makes my head turn under the cloth, trying to get a feel for where she is as I’m pushed fuck knows where. The hell is she still doing here? He should have taken her away from this by now. I struggle against the men holding my arms, pissed that I can’t get to her and unsure what’s coming next. It doesn’t fucking help that I’m dropping. I can feel my blood sugar damn near evaporate with every breath. Everything’s hazy, nausea riding my guts, and I’m getting weak, my muscles pulsing to try to find more energy.
Something smacks across my head, making what was already fucking blurred, spin uncontrollably. It’s enough to cause their grip to tighten on me as I almost fall, and I’m dragged to wherever we’re heading. They mutter to each other about something. I can’t hear it because of the goddamned bag on my head, but I do hear the crank of a steel door closing somewhere behind us.
The temperature cools instantly as I’m pulled along with them, giving me a slight reprieve from the sweat and heat building on my body. Dusty air filters through the cloth into my senses, and I try to concentrate on the sound of Fia’s feet being towed quickly and her bitching at her father. They stop after a while, as does her voice.
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