Sinister

by Sherell Cummings

  “I know,” he said standing close behind me. “Which is a bad move on your part.”

  I dropped the fork keeping my head facing forward. “How so?”

  “Because now you can’t stop thinking about me, like I can’t stop thinking about you, bella ragazza,” he whispered near my ear, breath so warm against my skin I shivered at the contact of his lips as he pressed a soft kiss on my neck. The two days spent with no contact felt like torture if I ever knew any. Almost as if my body knew that his touch, his scent, or his words were what I need to survive this treacherous place. His touch burned my skin the moment his fingers slid across my stomach to the tie that kept the robe together.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Taking what’s mine. I’ve been hungry, bella,” he said, I spun to face him. With both hands on either side of the counter encasing me between, he leaned in with hungry eyes as my gaze studied his. “Watching you for days without touching was a hard adjustment. I don’t like it.”

  “I don’t care. Nicolae knows something.”

  “I know that.” His eyes soften with remorse. “I’m sorry for what happened at dinner.”

  I tilted my head perplexed, hand reaching up on its own accord to touch his stubbled face. “Why?”

  “Because I did nothing.”

  “You couldn’t do anything. He would have known, if he doesn’t already.”

  “Doesn’t matter. I feel like I fucking failed with the way he demeaned you in front of me. I wanted to kill him then and there.”

  “I know.” I brushed my thumb over his bottom lip before letting my hand drop to my lap. “It’s why I stayed away from you. You’re getting too attached, which makes you careless. I like you, Andrea, and watching you die at the hands of Nicolae would be something I can’t let happen.”

  His voice got menacingly low. “Why are you trying to protect me like I don’t know how to protect myself?”

  “Because you don’t, not when dealing with him,” I growled clenching my jaw. “I’ve seen too many men die at his hands and some of them for the simplest reasons. What do you think he would do to the man fucking his girlfriend under his own roof?—I am just as disposable as you are.”

  “I know,” he scowled.

  “Then act like you know and stop thinking with your dick.” I shoved him away and got off the stool glaring at him. “You think this is easy for me? I want to be with you,” I said angrily pointing at him. I was sure we were the only ones awake in the house, and this house was so big, who was upstairs couldn’t hear what was happening down here.

  “So why aren’t you?” he said equally pissed, as his English got thicker. “You want to act like I mean something to you and yet you stay with him? Why?”

  I shook my head, mouth opening and closing as I tried to find the right explanation without delivering the truth. It was on the tip of my tongue to tell him the truth, but my job would be compromised if I did. “Because I have to.”

  “No, because you want to.” He took a step to me bringing his face closer to mine. “You like this life. All the nice things, the clothes, the shoes, the jewellery, the fucked up boyfriend who's eager to rape you in front of strangers—”

  That earned him a slap across the face. My hand stung on impact, but I didn’t care, he deserved it, and fuck although I was pissed by his words I couldn’t help the kiss that came next. I was up in his arms, legs wrapped around his waist as my back slammed against one of the walls near the doorway. “You slapped me,” he said against my lips before shoving his tongue back in my mouth.

  I moaned reaching down to unbuckle and unzip his pants, pulling his hard cock from his boxers before smirking against his lips. “You earned it for insinuating I was a gold-digger.”

  He smirked, grabbing hold of his cock and placing it against my opening. “Now I didn’t say that.”

  “Didn’t have to, it was implied.” With a quick thrust he was inside me and capturing my mouth once again. I groaned at the glorious pressure that instantly started building with every twitch of his massive cock. We stayed connected when he gently kissed me into submission, my body a ball of worked-up pleasure that desperately needed release. It was so hard to want anything other than his mouth on me all the time with the way he kissed. Rolling his hips my hands grabbed him around his neck when one of his hands firmly gripped my ass and the other held the wall above my head, before he started moving.

  “Hold on tight, neonata because this is going to be quick.” I gasped moaning softly when his mouth covered mine as his thrusts rammed me into the wall. This was not what I wanted and it wasn’t what I meant by trying to downplay our relationship. Fucking in the kitchen seemed like a bad plan with Nicolae asleep upstairs, but my resistance was non-existent whenever Andrea and I got near each other. His words only made me weaker and although I wanted to be mad, I preferred if he kept his cock in its current position.

  With quick thrusts we both gasped as the feel was unimaginable. Every time we had sex instead of me losing a bit of myself like I usually did with Nicolae, I felt stronger. He was doing things not only to my body, but also to my mind and as I feared, my heart. Suddenly he stopped moving and grabbed my jaw lifting my head, so my eyes could find his. Deep soulful eyes held my gaze for a long minute before he said, “You want this? You want me?”

  I held his gaze contemplating on his words. I couldn’t deny wanting him. Couldn’t deny needing his touch and everything he had to offer. With my chest rising and falling rapidly, my earnest gaze held his eyes. “Yes.”

  He thrusted upward as I groaned matching his rhythm and closing my eyes. “You need this?” he huffed in a gruff tone pressing harder. My mind was swarming with pleasure as every thrust pushed me closer.

  “Yes.”

  “Then take it, bambino. Take everything I have to give.” My head fell against his shoulder as I bit into his t-shirt to prevent myself from screaming out as I came. My eyesight blurred when I felt his gasping breath against my ear as his body stiffened when the last of his cum entered my body. Our deep breaths were the only sound breaking the silence of the night, and through my post orgasmic fog I vaguely remembered where we were.

  With my eyes popping open, I lifted my head slowly before pushing at his still heaving chest. “Off,” I commanded demanding to be let out of his hold.

  He smirked capturing my lips in a heated kiss before letting me down. “You know you’re the one that attacked me,” he said amused, eyes following my movement as I walked around him on shaky legs.

  I fixed my clothes and watched as he shoved his dick back into his pants, but other than that, he looked like nothing had happened. I was pretty sure I looked like I’d just been fucked. “Yes and while that was— great—”

  “Just great?” He grinned mischievously walking forward and pulling me back into his arms. I could have resisted, but his playful side was so easy to get lost in there was nothing I could do but fold.

  I rolled my eyes. “My apologies—that was the best up-against-the-wall-banging I have ever had,” I said seductively grinning. His head fell back in a hearty laughter as I laughed along with him surprised at how easy it was being with him. I’d been in this house for over eight months and not once had I laughed as I had in the four days of being around Andrea. At first glance he seemed menacing, and maybe he was to most who knew him, but with me he was different. The laughter died as I placed my hand on his stubbled face. “Where did you come from tonight?”

  His face softened as he moved it against my palm. “I was out for a drink.”

  “You know we have plenty to drink here.”

  “I know, but I needed to clear my head away from the craziness of this house.”

  I released him with a frown and returned to my seat and unfinished cheesecake. It wasn’t the first time Nicolae had done something like that. There were times every last chair at that table was filled with one of his ruthless friends. It was then Nicolae chose to abuse his power and decided to embarrass me by ripping my clot
hes and showing off my body in a demeaning way. Of course I hated him for it. Wanted to rip his eyes out with a dinner fork, but I smiled through it and learned that it was a part of the roll I was playing.

  My embarrassment faded, and I learned that it was a proof of my strength and a proof of his weakness. That night at dinner, with Andrea watching, I’d never felt so weak in my life. “You mean the craziest at dinner—I’m sorry you had to see that,” I said solemnly with my back to him gazing down at my plate.

  “It wasn’t your fault, and I don’t blame you.”

  “I’m not blaming myself either—just apologizing for you having to see me that way.” I stood and walked to the sink dumping the remainder of the cheesecake down the disposal before leaving the plate on the counter. Embarrassment was clawing at my skin and I wanted to be away from him. “I should really get back to bed before he notices I’m missing.” I turned to leave when he grabbed my arm causing me to look down at our connected skin.

  “Tonight after this dinner, I want to take you somewhere.”

  “Where?”

  “It’s a surprise—Say you’ll come.” He pulled me forward, kissing me passionately. I melted against his body losing myself in every swipe of his tongue against mine. As he pulled away with a satisfied smirk leaving me breathless, I whispered yes to his question. With a gratified smile he released my arm and turned heading back the way he came. “Good night, bello,” he whispered disappearing into the night.

  I grinned watching him go, finally happy about something in this miserable place. Being undercover wasn’t easy, but maybe I had found something hat made it a little more fun. I returned upstairs and snuck into the dark room, watching Nicolae who hadn’t moved while I was gone. Blowing out an easy breath of relief, I crawled in next to him as if I hadn’t left and made myself comfortable by melting into the soft pillow. When he turned and buried his face against my chest, I froze hoping he didn’t wake, because I couldn’t deal with him wanting to use my body after being worshiped by Andrea.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Nathaniel

  The plan was simple, until it became complicated. The worst thing about trying to find someone with only a name, was that anyone could be him. I tried to remember if at any point I had met Michael Lomas. At all of the parties my father hosted throughout the years, I always tried to distance myself from everyone. If I wasn’t drinking profusely to get through it, I was kept company by either Justine or Willow. It was during one of those parties did I discover Justine’s secret.

  From the moment I met her I noticed something different. Justine wasn’t like the other women my father usually kept as girlfriends. Usually they were annoying, easily controlled and so transparent you could see through their thoughts, which wasn’t much considering since they weren’t allowed to talk. He liked his women empty-headed and only had girlfriends to keep up appearances. Everyone around him already knew he kept slaves, but the girlfriend was to be by his side on the outside of the slave trade industry.

  Justine was different. She spoke intelligently, had wit and charm and I thought finally, my father pulled his head out of his ass and found a girlfriend who could actually make him look good with her brain and not only with her looks. I watched her closely, because although she was very beautiful, she was also very clever. I noticed when she spoke with me at those parties how her demeanour and personality changed compared to when she was with my father. When she looked at things, it was almost as if she was calculating something in her head and out of all of his girlfriends she was the only one who knew where every exit in the house was within the first half hour of being there, whereas all of the other women couldn’t even find a bathroom, even if you placed them in front of it.

  It was something only someone with training could do. Someone calculating who was expecting danger and wanted to be prepared. Something only a cop would do. When I cornered her and demanded the truth, she didn’t hesitate to give it, only because she knew I would rather help her than sell her out. “What do you see?” Costas asked, so I removed the binoculars and glanced at him with a grim expression. Darkness had fallen, and the boat had docked near a jetty filled with other cargo boats that had already docked. With its workers done for the night the place was vacant as it was well past midnight.

  The boat that was rusty and way past its prime held wooden crates that were now being pried open by armed men with crowbars and MK 17’s strapped to their chest, while they talked and laughed in their native language. The crates that were already opened held smaller wooden boxes that took two men to carry onto a waiting truck a few yards away. Leonardo, Costas and I were on another boat a few yards away, keeping an eye on the men while trying to determine who Michael was. We had armed men stationed all around the yard, waiting for our signal for when to move in. With the binoculars to my eyes, I turned toward the scene, trying my best to get a clear picture since there wasn’t much light to see faces.

  Profiling every man as they came and went I said, “They're moving the cargo to the truck. Still can’t tell who he is though, it’s too dark.” I dropped the binoculars and faced them.

  “Then we should go out there,” said Leo insistently as he stood facing the other direction with a lit cigarette hanging from his mouth. He took a long drag before tossing it overboard and facing us with his hands in his pockets. “The longer we wait the less chance we have of getting to him if that truck is filled.”

  “He’s right,” said Costas removing the pistol from the back of his pants. “Waiting is useless, we can’t fucking see anything anyway. It’s best if we move in.” Leo was checking his gun when I turned back toward the men.

  There were at least twenty in the area, not counting the ones that were already dead upon our arrival. As I looked on my thoughts travelled to Izzy who was probably curled up in bed waiting to hear from me. I hated lying to her, but I wanted her safe, and I knew if I’d told her the original plan she’d freak out even more than she was right now. We came here to get away from my father and now I was willingly giving myself to him. She wouldn’t understand, but at least she’d be safe here until I could come back for her.

  I faced the two of them, putting the binoculars down on a wooden bench nearby. “You ready?” I said to Costas who nodded cocking his gun and placing it against his back.

  “I’ll make the call and be ready to move in,” said Leo as Costas and I took our leave. I stepped off the boat with Costas following and we headed toward the action.

  Costas smirked tossing a coin back and forth into the air. “You know—” he said in a light-heartedly whisper. “I don’t think there is anything my father could do that would make me hate him enough to send him to jail.”

  I nodded knowing he was right. For them, family was everything. They all worked together, trusted each other and loved each other no matter what. “Sometimes—family isn’t always everything. And my father isn’t family. I learned that a long time ago.”

  He chuckled deep in his throat. “I find that hard to believe.”

  “Well, before your time with me is over, I’m sure you’re going to see that sinister isn’t just a word.” At the sound of guns cocking the both of us paused when suddenly the cold steel was pressed against my head. There was one up against Costas’s head as well.

  “Quem é Você?” said the man holding the gun to Costas’s head. I understood a lot of languages except Portuguese, and as it would seem neither did Costas. Leo was the one that spoke the language. We both remained silent when he repeated the question, with the other poking the gun harder against my head.

  “We don’t understand you,” I said as my head jutted forward from the push of the gun.

  “Who are you?” said the one stabbing the gun against my skull, who couldn’t be more than twenty, twenty-one. Definitely too young to be in charge. “What are you doing here?”

  “I want to talk to the man in charge,” I said as they both started chuckling. I glanced at Costas who had his usual amused smirk even with a gun
pressed to his head. “Who is your boss?” I knew it was neither of them, and I also knew they weren’t going to tell me like I’d hoped.

  “Walk.” They shoved us forward toward the boat, where every man was now aware of our presence because every gun was now pointed at us. “You think we don’t know who you are.” This coming from my English-speaking friend who moved to stand in front of me, with the gun still pointed at my face. “Your father said you’d be by.”

  “Are you who I’m looking for?” He wasn’t, although he did seem to have a higher rank than the others. He was Brazilian, but spoke English without much of an accent.

  He smirked lowering his gun and pulling a phone from his pocket. In no time he was dialling my father and had him on the line. While they talked I looked at each one of their faces trying to figure out who the real Michael Lomas was. Most of them were natives, with tanned skin and dark hair, ages from as low as seventeen, to as high as forty. The few that were Cuban were unrecognizable, since I had never seen them before now. There was still a few of them missing, since I had counted at least twenty back at the boat and there were only nine guns pointing at us.

  He hung up the phone and I smirked at him. “You tell daddy dearest I said hi?”

  He blinked at me with a malicious grin. “Take them.” Two men moved, one grabbing my arms tightly behind my back with the gun pressed to the back of my head. Costas got the same treatment.

  He grinned over at me shaking his head as he spoke in Italian. “Tem certeza de que não foi adotado?” (Are you sure you weren’t adopted?) he asked.

  I chuckled below my breath only pausing to scowl as the man behind me who shoved the gun deeper into my skull. I was suddenly a prisoner, by my own father no less. I chuckled again at the thought, knowing it would have happened someday. He was never subtle with his threats and neither was I with mine. I knew what my father's orders were and it wasn’t death at the hands of one of his hench men. If anyone was going to have the pleasure of killing me, it would be him.