by Adams, Evie
“Eggs,” he teased.
“I know, I mean, it's good. What else is in it?”
“That's a secret. I'm Italian, we don't share our recipes with outsiders.”
“Full of secrets.”
He finished before me and sat back, and began playing with my hair. Twirling it between his fingers, playfully. “So are you,” he said absentmindedly. “Do you want a shower?”
“I'd love one.” I looked around, it was a one-room cabin, with a divider for the bedroom, but nothing that looked like a shower. Sometimes these rustic cabins have them outside, attached.
“Come then.” He stood up and grabbed towels and soap, and walked outside. I followed him as he walked around the cabin and to the back side. The lake spilled around the back of the cabin, a little lagoon with a sandy shore. His cabin was on a little point, and sheltered this inlet from the rest of the lake. But no shower stalls in sight.
“You can't be serious?” I asked him as he sat down near the sandy shore.
“Deadly.”
I had felt the cold water on my ankles earlier, and I didn't want that again, all over me, but I didn't have much choice. “OK, you can leave now, I think I can handle it from here.”
“Nope.” He said with a grin.
“If you expect me to. .”
“You can't be trusted while I sleep, so this is what you get. Trust is earned. Get in.”
“Turn around at least until I’m in.”
“Nope. I haven't had your body. Yet. But I like to look at it, and that's what I plan on doing.” He leaned back, relaxed, like this was a day at the beach.
This was insufferable, that he was enjoying this and grinning and relaxed. “Then I'll skip it and smell.”
He laughed a quick belly laugh, a sarcastic laugh. “If you think I'm going to stay with you in a one room cabin without showering, you're crazy. Get in or I'll drag you in and scrub you myself.”
“I hate you,” I told him, and started to feel like a surly teenager the way he was making me act. I couldn’t use force, I couldn’t use words, there wasn’t much I could do to fight him. And I wasn’t ready to try to seduce him with my feminine charms, I was sure that would backfire too.
I turned around to undress, then waded in slowly, without looking at him, pretending he wasn't there. The water was piercing cold at first, but slowly warmed the closer I got to the far side, and the sandy shore, and him.
He called out over the water, his hands cupping his mouth, “Don't get too close to the hot spring, it’s scalding if you get too close.”
“Hot spring?” That was the warming jet of water I felt as I got closer to the far shoreline.
“Yeah, I usually get in over here, close to it, instead of the freezing cold water like you.” He laughed at me, as I rushed closer to the warm water.
“You're an asshole.” I told him.
“Guilty. But not stupid.”
I submerged myself in the warm water, but careful to stay in the mix of warm and cold, so one side of me was warm, almost hot and the other cool, almost cold. When I got up, I shouted to him, “Toss me the soap.”
“Come get it.” He smiled again.
I stared daggers at him as I walked straight to him, out of the water. I wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of begging or pleading, or covering myself up. He met my eyes for as long as he could, then looked me up and down, with a hunger on his face, and almost stumbled to put the soap in my outstretched hands. I turned around and walked back in coolly.
It really wasn't that bad in the warmth of the water, the path down from where he sat was all sand, no sharp rocks like the other side, a well-worn, probably raked path, and a perfect warm temperature all the way. I lathered myself up and put a light amount on my hair, and dunked myself again to rinse off. I heard a splash behind me, when I looked he was coming right at me, with the hungry grin on his wolfish face. I yelped and ran to the near shore, the cold piercing water and the rocky stones underneath me, but he kept going for the spot I was just in and grabbed the soap I had left and laughed.
“You're braver than I am to wade out there. Snapping turtles as big as a car in this lake.” He said as he lathered himself up.
I ran to the shore and toweled off. And by the time I had finished he was on shore too, with the other towel, next to me, I had missed the show of him coming out, I should have reclined on the shore to watch him. But he wasn't very shy toweling off and wrapping the towel around his waist. I tried not to look, but, his body was lean and muscular, and the water drops sparkled in the sun as he stood in front of me.
“Feel better?” he asked.
I did.
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CHAPTER 8
She was lovely in the sun, lovely naked, lovely angry at me rising from the water. Lovely.
“So what is this place, why are you here, why have you brought me here?” she asked me questions like a machine-gun.
“This is a family retreat. I am part of the family. And because I wanted you here is all you need to know on the last one.”
“I thought you and your brother weren't a part of this family though. Part of your mother's sure, but not part of this one.”
“You're not wrong to think that, actually that's probably right. We're not part of either really. Not really Marletti, not really Morgan. With the advantages of both I guess, and disadvantages of both. Michael chooses to be Morgan, I choose to be Marletti, at least for now. But we're not completely one or the other.”
“You’re a mutt. It's okay, so am I.”
“So are most. I don't know if I like 'mutt', but that's probably accurate. My parents were married, had us, then were divorced and we were Morgans, grew up in that world and visited this one. This one seemed more honest for me. But Michael liked the other one, or felt more at home there anyways. I tried the other one, but feel more at home here.”
Before she could say something biting or sarcastic, Sal came up behind us. “How's the water?”
“Warm.” I answered. “This is Anna, a friend. You going in?”
“No, I like the shower better.”
“Shower?” Anna asked, incredulously.
Sal laughed deeply, annoying to my ears. “Yeah, up in the main cabin. He told you this was it right? He always does that. Just because Marc likes the pond, doesn't mean the rest of us do.”
She scowled at me, but she was sexy angry, “He does this to all his hostages?”
“Mostly just drinking buddies from college, you're the first woman he's brought up here. What do you mean hostage?”
“Nothing,” I interrupted and told her to shut up with my eyes. “The old man up yet? I'm going to introduce her to him today.”
His eyes lingered on her hoping for an answer, then he turned to me, “No, sleeping now. Me and a couple of the boys are going out for a bit this morning. Want to come?”
No. I want to stay here and watch her remove the towel and try to dress and fight me off at the same time, I thought, but what came out of my mouth was, “Yeah, I'll come. Give me a minute.”
When he left I grabbed her by the arm, hard, so she would understand, and spoke quietly, but with barely restrained anger, “Remember when I said there are worse things than me out there? He's one of them.”
“That hurts,” she said and I relaxed my grip on her arm, but didn't release it. “I just want people to know I'm here against my will. Does your father know I'm a hostage?”
“They know what I tell them, and so do you. You're a hostage, but believe me, you'd rather be here than out there, for now. Here you're safe.”
“Safe being threatened with rape and beatings and whatever else?”
“It's all relative. You're more safe here, even with threats of rape and beatings.” I almost had a laugh out of her for that one, but she turned it off and looked away, out at the lake. “I'll send Appy down to keep you company while I'm out.”
“Keep guard over me you mean.”
“No. If you're t
hat cruel, I don't think you'd have a problem overpowering Appy. Escape, leave if you want to, but don't tell me I didn't warn you when you come across someone worse than me.” I hoped she'd still be here when I returned, but I couldn't not go out with Sal and the boys if I hoped to lead them one day. Besides, someone needed to watch over Sal, keep him in line. Gianni was my guy and could be trusted, but Sal was his boss, Gianni couldn’t exactly tell him what to do. But I can.
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CHAPTER 9
He left me in the cabin, and I thought about what he said, his warnings were nothing more than imaginary threats. Exactly what a captor would say, to keep me close, to keep me dependent on him. In the light, it would be easier to hike around the shoreline until I met some other house or a road or something. It seemed so easy, but when I opened the door, there was what must have been “Appy” on the porch.
A hunched over old woman who looked about 150, but I didn't dare ask her. She pushed by me and went to the stove, tried to grab the cast iron pan on top and I thought she would fall over with it, so I went to help her.
“Gratzi,” she said and smiled. And set it down to scrub it.
So this was my new captor. Marcus was right, I'd be too worried what would happen to her if I left her alone. But, the door was open.
“Sally,” she said and looked at me. “Sally?” in a thick Italian accent.
I pointed to myself and said, “Anna.”
“No, No, Sally! Certamente Anna. Sally!” She said and waived her arms, pointing at the shelf above the wood stove. “Salt!” she said, finally. I felt like an idiot, and got her the salt, which she poured in the pan and used it to scrub the pan until it was clean and the salt was dirty. She stood up, again about to fall over with the pan, so I went to help her and as soon as I had it, she moved around behind me, quickly for her, quick for anyone. She made the bed and straightened the rest of the room as I watched and tried to help and make sure she didn't hurt herself.
She was a whirlwind really, but when she was done. She smiled and said, “Ho finito.” And she pulled a book from under her dress, and motioned me to follow her outside. She pulled two chairs together and gave me the book and told me, “Forte. Parla Forte.”
The book had a pirate on the cover, and I already felt I didn't want to read this out loud to her in front of the lake. But she looked at me like an excited puppy, and she did just clean the house for me, sort of, so what could I do? I couldn't refuse her. She kept yelling at me, “Forte, Forte.” Which must have meant louder, but after saying, “love muscle” loudly three times I had enough of Appy, as sweet as she was.
Thankfully, a younger woman came by shouting, “Ma!” and words I couldn’t understand in a sweet flowing Italian. The old woman just put her hand in the air, and waived her off, “Bah.”
The young woman looked at me and spoke, “Sorry for her, she has no shame. I tried to get her a book on tape, but she turns it up so loud that they can hear it across the lake. What am I going to do with you” She leaned down and kissed Appy on the lips.
“I'm Tess.” She stuck her hand out to me, which I shook. “Marcus said he was going to look after her for me, but it looks like it was you instead. Thanks.”
“Anna,” I replied, stupidly.
“Well, I need to bring her back to take a nap, and give you a rest from her. But come visit. We're in cabin 4 over there behind the main one. I'm trapped in there with a toddler and Ma, so come over or give me an excuse to get out for a while.”
“Sure. Tess.” She smiled and walked away with her mother, who seemed to hear Italian better than English.
This place was busier than I thought. At least four cabins, maybe more. I was left alone, but the fact that this place didn't seem as bad as I had thought at first and the warnings Marcus gave that sounded plausible, I decided to lay down instead of escape. At least for now.
I still had the pirate book, but the fact that the picture in my head of the main character looked like Marcus made me want to throw the book across the room. It was no use reading it. I hated him for abducting me, for threatening me, but I couldn't exactly say I was disgusted by him. Especially how he looked coming out of the water, in the sun, or how hungry he looked when I came out of the water to fetch the soap from him.
I woke to his face above me, staring at me, he spoke, “I could help you with that.”
“With what?”
“That.” He said, pointing to the book laying on my stomach and my hand down the front of my pants.
Dammit.
I jumped away from him, but he grabbed me by the shoulders and kissed me hard, pushing his tongue into my mouth.
I pushed him off me, “You promised you wouldn't rape me.”
“I know what I promised. And it doesn't seem like I'd have to. When we fuck, you'll want me as much as I want you. And you don't need this,” he took the book from the bed and threw it across the room, it fluttered open, and landed like a wounded bird on the wood stove, “when I'm right here.”
“That's not mine, and it was the only thing to do in here.”
“Not the only thing.” He grinned that wolfish grin. “But I did get you something to keep you busy for when I have to go away. Hope you like records and Italian music.” He pointed to a record player on the floor with a box of antique records next to it.
“For me?”
“It was but I’m not sure now.”
“I need something here.”
“OK, but I want something in return.”
“Not that, you promised.”
“You have a dirty mind. I like it. But no not that. Just a kiss. A good kiss.”
It was worth it. I went up to him and put my arms around his neck and planted one, on those soft lips, one he could remember. One I could feel in his pants, but just when I felt he had enough, he grabbed me, and kissed harder, his tongue in my mouth, and picked me up and started walking to the bed. I broke free again, “A kiss, that's all.”
“That's not all. That wasn't just a kiss.”
“You said a good kiss, so I gave you one, but that's all.”
“Goddamn it.” He growled and knocked over the stack of records and slammed the front door as he went out.
I almost felt sorry for him, but that was payback for not telling me about the shower. I went over to the pile of records, to gather them back up, and saw they all had price tags. $75, $200, some were even $500, all antique, rare records. He came back in the room, “You stole these didn't you?”
“Not really.”
“Did you kill or beat someone for them too?”
“I don't have to explain myself to you.”
“No, I know you did something awful for these. I'd rather not know. Take it away, I don't want it.”
“You didn't ask where I got the money for the donation, now did you?”
“If that was dirty it'll have to be returned.”
“Of course it was dirty. All my money is dirty. I made millions buying companies and dismantling them piece by piece. But that was perfectly legal. I formed companies to buy other ones, and when the deal went bad, the company declared bankruptcy and millions more were washed away. I was dirtier in my old line of work than this one. But if you have to know, this is from a guy who runs a music shop. A degenerate gambler, drug addict music shop owner who owed my half-brother Sal money and of course didn't have it. So instead of beating him or worse, I talked my half-brother into busting out his business. It's not much different from what I did on Wall Street, just much smaller potatoes. This guy has nothing, but his business has credit, so he orders a ton of inventory, we take the inventory and sell it off to pay ourselves back, and in the end he declares bankruptcy and goes out of business. Trust me, it's more humane than what Sal planned to do to him. This way he walks away, bankrupt and broke, but at least he can walk.”
“But you don't need the money.”
“No, but Sal does. His guys do. If it makes you feel better, I did pay for these, but I didn't
pay full price. And you know what? After I handed him the money, he placed another set of bets with Sal. I'm the sucker here you should feel sorry for.” He left again, slamming the door.
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CHAPTER 10
My god she was a pain in the ass. I do something nice for her and the thanks I get is a rebuke and an accusation. But worse than all of that, I followed it up by being honest, by telling the truth, by showing myself what an idiot I am for her.
