Dark Desire (Famiglia Book 1)

by A. J. Daniels

  BLURB

  Klara

  Everyone always says love will find you when you’re not looking. Well, they’re not wrong. Except, the man my heart stupidly fell for was more interested in playing his own twisted game of catch and release. Claiming me for himself, then pushing me away when I got too close, but there was an aura of darkness clouded around him.

  A darkness that beckoned to me.

  A darkness I was grateful for when those he thought he could trust ripped me away in the middle of the night to be a pawn in their own sick, twisted game.

  Braxton

  She was supposed to be an itch I needed to scratch. That red dress and those pale blue eyes called to me like a siren. In my line of work falling in love is dangerous.

  “I believe there’s good in you, Brax,” she had said.

  “Baby, I’m the thing monsters are afraid of,” I warned her.

  I pushed her away, thinking she would be safe from this fucked up life I lead.

  I couldn’t’ve been more wrong.

  My enemies smelled fresh blood. They knew if they wanted to take me down, they had to get to her. But it wasn’t my enemies I had to worry about. No, the threat was a lot closer than I thought. It shouldn’t have surprised me. After all, the devil was once an angel.

  Klara was my light out of this hell, and now she was in danger of being snuffed out. But not if I could help it.

  They should’ve thought twice before taking what belongs to me. Now, I’m out for blood, and I’m not stopping until my concrete floor runs red.

  Dark Desire is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2018 by A.J. Daniels

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Cover Design and formatting by: ©Just Write. Creations

  Edited by: Ansley Blackstock

  ISBN: 978-0-9958409-4-2

  Prologue

  Part 1

  Chapter1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Part 2

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Epilogue

  Thank you to J.M. Walker, Dee Garcia, Ansley Blackstock, and V. Theia for letting me run scenes by them and taking the time to give me their feedback. You ladies rock! And I’m extremely grateful that I met you ladies and can call you friends.

  Thank you to Teolia, and Laurie, my betas and ARC team who took a chance when I told them that this was different from anything I’ve written before.

  Thank you to you, the reader. You didn’t have to pick up Dark Desire, but I’m extremely grateful that you did.

  Trigger warning: scenes of sexual assault.

  “I’d cut my soul into a million different pieces just to form a constellation to light your way home.

  I’d write love poems to the parts of yourself you can’t stand.

  I’d stand in the shadows of your heart and tell you I’m not afraid of your dark.”

  – Andrea Gibson

  THE RIPENED SMELL body odor and human waste are the first things I notice as my body stirs. The old, stained mattress I’m lying on is the next. Followed by the sounds of harsh grunts, skin slapping against skin, and anguished cries.

  I groan and try to find a position that alleviates at least some of the tension in my body, but it’s no use. Everything aches. My arms from being tied above my head for god knows how long now. My legs from being violently pushed open day in and day out since I was dragged into this hell. My wrists from constantly pulling against the metal that’s holding me captive. My heart with the cold realization that this is my life now. Nobody has come for me in the three months since I was taken.

  The curtain separating my small section of the room screeches open, and I brace myself for what comes next. Before today I would’ve fought. Fought with everything I have left while cold fingers ripped the clothes from my body. While man after man did whatever they pleased with me. Sometimes one at a time, sometimes more.

  But never, not once, did they ask for my consent. Not like I would’ve given it to them anyway. I was taken from my bed in the middle of the night. Sold from person to person until I ended up in this dark hell.

  The smell of cigarette smoke and stale beer drifts down from above me as hands rip the blanket away from my body—the only thing I was allowed to cover myself with. I refuse to open my eyes because if I did… if I allowed myself to take in this new reality I would surely pray for death.

  But with my eyes squeezed tightly closed I can drift away to another time. A time filled with love and laughter. When the only thing warring in my head were what classes I wanted to take.

  The curtain screeches open again and I squeeze my eyes closed harder, but then the heavy weight above me becomes less and less, until there’s nothing.

  Slowly, wearily, I open one eye, and then the other. A silhouette of a giant stands at the entrance until he comes closer. One step, two steps. Then he’s standing above me, chest heaving, nostrils flaring, fists clenching, but for reasons unknown to me, I don’t flinch away. No, instead I stare down the giant. Emerald eyes into grey ones.

  He grunts, bending down and pulling a tool from his pocket. I try shifting away, well, as far as my restraints will allow but he places a gentle hand on my arm. I frown looking at his monster sized hands, not understanding how they could be so big, so strong, and yet touch me with such gentleness.

  “Going to cut you out of these,” the giant says in a deep voice.

  I nod, anxious to get the feeling back into my arms, to be able to move them in front of me, to be able to shield myself from further threats. But when he cuts through the binds, my arms don’t move. Panic starts setting in, my eyes round in fear, and I can’t get air in my lungs fast enough.

  “Shit,” he curses, gently pulling my arms down and in front of me, but I still can’t feel them. Why can’t I feel them? “Going to take a while until you get feeling back in them, baby girl. Hold on, going to get you out of here now, yeah?”

  I swallow hard as his arms slip under me and lift me, bringing me into his hard chest. I can’t help it. I burrow into him as close as I can get and take comfort in his warmth.

  My first taste of comfort in months.

  “GET READY, BIACH! ‘Cause we’re going out tonight!” my best friend and roommate hollers, the front door slamming shut behind her causing the picture frames to rattle against the wall.

  I groan and try to become one with the couch and the blanket covering me. “Dri, I don’t think I want to go out tonight. My head is pounding, and I really don’t feel good.”

  “That’s why I got you these.” She digs through the grocery bag hanging from her wrist before rearing back and pitching a box at me. I quirk an eyebro
w at the cold meds and look up to see a smug grin on her face. “Take a couple of those and you’ll be good to go.”

  “I don’t know, Dri. Cold meds and alcohol shouldn’t be mixed.”

  I know I should stick to my insistence on not going but the more Adrienne tries to convince me to go, the more my resolve melts away. I mean, it’s just one night, right? I’ll take the cold meds now, and by the time we hit the club I should be okay enough to have one drink. One drink, that’s it. I owe my best friend this anyway after blowing her off last weekend so I could finish a paper early.

  “Alright. Okay, I’ll go.” I pull back the blanket and grab the box of cold meds from the coffee table before making my way to the bathroom and the hot shower that awaits me.

  Adrienne and I slide into the waiting cab an hour later. It only took about two point five seconds, and a side-eye perusal from the cab driver for me to realize that the crimson red dress Dri had picked out for me was way too short, barely covering my private parts when I sat down.

  As soon as the driver pulls away from the curb, I try—unsuccessfully—to pull at the hem of my dress in hopes that I can wrench it down an extra inch or two. But all I’m doing is pulling the top down even more. The top that’s barely covering my above average cleavage.

  Ugh, tell me again why I agreed to go out tonight, and not just that, but why I let Dri dress me?

  The only explanation I have is that the cold meds were starting to kick in, and I was not fully in control of my decisions.

  “We’re here.”

  Dri is radiating pure excitement as the cab pulls up to a…warehouse?

  “Um, Dri? I don’t think this is right.”

  “Just trust me, Klara,” she says, paying the driver and grabbing my hand to pull me out behind her.

  She yanks me out of the cab so fast that I have to scramble to try and keep my dress pulled down past my ass, but it’s useless, and I’m pretty sure I just flashed the driver. Not like he was complaining though.

  Fuck a duck! Just kill me now, please.

  Dri’s long, chocolate locks swish from side to side as she pulls me along behind her and up to a— oh, dear god the man is huge—bouncer. At least I think he’s a bouncer. A sliver of fear races down my spine. I’m not liking the feel of this so far. This doesn’t look anything like a club. Where’s the lineup of people? Where’s the velvet rope? Why are there absolutely no people outside, except for the huge mofo standing in front of us under the lone street lamp.

  Dri and the dude don’t exchange any words as she shows him a business card, and he nods, stepping back to pull open the heavy steel door with a squeak.

  “Um, Dri –” I grip her hand tighter in mine and halt her advancement.

  “It gets better inside, I swear,” she promises, drawing an invisible cross over her heart. The gesture makes me giggle. It’s the same gesture we’ve been doing ever since we were kids. When we made promises to each other we would say, “cross my heart,” and draw the invisible cross over our hearts. It meant more to us than a pinky promise. We may have grown up, but that gesture still meant as much to us now as it did back then.

  “Ugh, fine.” I give in and let her lead me further into the darkness. “But remember, I don’t have to be a fast runner, I just have to out run you, and judging by those shoes I’d have no problem.” I grin.

  Dri laughs, but her response gets cut off when the dark hallway finally opens, revealing a nightclub the likes of which I’ve never seen before – which isn’t saying much, but still it’s impressive.

  My jaw drops taking in the crystal chandeliers hanging from the high ceilings. If it weren’t for the DJ’s lights, the illuminated bar, and the black light focused on the dance floor the entire place would be encased in darkness. The black walls run seamlessly down into black stone floors. Dark, blood red velvet curtains separate what I’m assuming are the VIP booths from view of the rest of the club.

  “Holy –” I can’t finish my sentence. I’m still trying to take everything in and process what I’m seeing. I was not expecting this when we pulled up to the seedy building.

  “Right?” Dri asks, a wide grin splitting her face. “C’mon, let’s get a drink, and then I’m dying to hit that dance floor.”

  She practically bounces down the stairs, through the throng of dancing bodies on the dance floor and over to the bar, dragging me—albeit willingly now—behind her. Dri pushes her way through the three people deep line at the bar and leans over more than is actually necessary, immediately catching the attention of the bartender, and eliciting scowls from the other patrons waiting to place their drink orders.

  Shivers rain down my spine when I feel eyes on me. I crane my neck from side to side trying to get a lock on the culprit but when I don’t see anyone blatantly looking, I shrug it off and accept the drink Dri is pushing into my hands.

  “Right, it’s dancing time,” she announces, pushing past me on her mission to the middle of the dance floor.

  Why do I feel like I’ll be the one following her around all night? Oh right, because I’m pathetic, and although going out dancing once in a while with Adrienne is fun, this just isn’t my scene. I so obviously don’t belong here. I’d rather be back at home, curled up under my gravity blanket with a good book and a big steaming mug of coffee.

  But live and let live, right?

  Plus, Adrienne and I haven’t been able to spend as much time as we’d like with each other over the last year. What, with both of us writing a thesis this year for our respective degrees, and work on top of that. We’ve been ships passing in the night lately. Sharing an apartment, but never really seeing each other except for the occasional, ‘Hi. Bye’ scenario.

  I miss my best friend something fierce, so if this is what she wants to do, then I’m happy that I get to be here with her tonight.

  I find Dri on the dance floor just as the DJ starts spinning the CID version of TLCs Creep. She giggles when I move closer to her and start grinding against her. We look like a couple dancing a little too close but neither one of us cares. Dri spins around into me, draping an arm over my shoulder as the song switches to Jax Jones’s Instruction. I can’t stifle the laugh when Dri dips down low and seductively dances her way up against my body.

  I haven’t felt this carefree or laughed this hard since before my parents’ car accident that took them from me. It feels good and I hope I can hold on to the feeling a little longer. Two songs turn into four and before we know it both of us are sweating, our feet aching in our heels.

  “Going to get a drink. You want one?” Dri yells above the music so that I can hear her. I nod and point my thumb over my shoulder to an open booth in the corner in a silent communication for her to meet me over there with the drinks. She grins and gives me a thumbs up before moving towards the bar.

  Just as I’m about to turn around, I still. I feel his eyes on me long before the unmistakable scent of wood and spice and pure man invade my senses, and I sense him behind me.

  “About to cause a fight in this club with the way that dress is riding up, Mia Bella.” A low growl sounds near my ear, making my core clench. His warm breath causing goosebumps to appear on my skin.

  “Hmm, not my fault if they don’t know how to control themselves,” I bite back.

  He chuckles, a warm solid, very manly hand curling around my hip, while the other brushes my long ash-blonde hair from my shoulder.

  “It’s not them you have to worry about, babe.”

  His voice. Dear Lord, that voice. It’s like silk, and sex, and that first bite of Lindor chocolate as it melts against your tongue. I gulp and turn around, making sure to not back away too far for fear that he might remove his hand from my hip and I’d lose the heat searing my skin at the contact.

  “I’m not your babe, babe.”

  My eyes—the traitorous bastards—take in the dark leather shoes, dark dress pants, black button up shirt with the top button undone, sleeves rolled up revealing tanned, toned forearms, lips tipped up in a s
mirk. And oh, sweet Jesus, what I wouldn’t give to tug on that full bottom lip. A little more than a five o’clock shadow, and then finally dark, amused eyes.

  He chuckles, and it’s deep, raw. “Drink.”

  “Huh?” I tip my head to the aside. I was so busy sizing him up that I didn’t catch a word of what he said.

  “Another drink?”

  I can’t help but stare when his tongue licks along his bottom lip, and suddenly images of him running that tongue down my neck, around my nipples, and over my clit flash in my mind’s eye. My thighs clench.

  “ONLY GOING TO ask you one more time, Mia Bella. I don’t like to repeat myself.” His voice was a breathy whisper against my heated skin as he ran his nose up the curve of my neck, inhaling my scent. “Can I interest you in another drink?”

  I gulp and try not to think about how close he is, and the heat radiating from his body, and what it would feel like to be pinned beneath said body. “Um, I’m okay. One was my limit tonight.”

  He grins but doesn’t try to push the matter which earns him a point in my book. I hate when guys insist on buying me another drink after I’ve said no.

  “Keep me company while I get a refill then?”

  My heart races and my belly does a little flop. What the fuck was that? Is it normal to have this kind of reaction to a perfect stranger? I don’t even know his name, and despite my lack of experience, if he asked me to leave with him tonight, I know without a doubt that I probably would. Not because I’m eager to discover what exactly lies beneath the expensive suit—well, maybe it’s a bit of that too, okay, it’s a lot of that too—but because of how he’s making me feel.

  I’ve been in close proximity to him for less than five minutes and he’s already managed to elicit more certain feelings in me than any man who bothered to put the time in. I wasn’t stupid, I knew there had been rumors circulating my high school about me being gay because I never dated, never had sex with a boy. It only got marginally better when Dri and I graduated four years ago and started university, but I knew our small group of friends also wondered why I never dated or slept around.