Violent Beginnings : A Dark Enemies To Lovers Mafia Romance

by J. L. Beck

  I huff out a breath. “Fine, I’ll listen, but not for you. For the people in that restaurant because I’m sure they didn’t come to work today thinking they would die.”

  Markus chuckles. “Of course, not for me. Why make things easier for me, or us?”

  Us? There is no us. There is him and me, and we’re on opposite sides of the spectrum. I want to help save my sister while he wants to keep me chained to his side.

  He climbs out of the car a second later and comes over to the passenger side. Opening the door, he grabs my hand and pulls me to my feet. My legs feel like jello and buckle beneath the weight of my body as I try to stand.

  “I’ve got you.” His voice strokes my ear.

  Leaning against him for support, I grow angry. I don’t want his help. I don’t want to feel the feelings I’m feeling for him. All I want to do is save my sister, protect her, and make sure she is okay, but I can’t even do that.

  I’ve failed her and failed myself. Everything that is happening to her now is my fault, and I have to live with that. So no matter what Markus does to me, nothing will be worse than what I’ve already done to myself.

  “I’m fine,” I snap. “I don’t need you.”

  Markus takes a step back, and I almost eat the pavement but catch myself at the last second. “Let’s go.”

  He tugs me forward, and I let him. Together we enter the diner, where the smell of fried foods and coffee fills my nostrils.

  “Sit wherever you would like,” a middle-aged woman says as she pours a cup of coffee.

  Markus obliges and drags me to a booth in the corner of the restaurant, away from the other patrons. He releases the hold on my wrist, only to shove me into one side of the booth before sliding into the other.

  There are menus at the end of the table near the sugar and salt and pepper, and I grab one to give myself something to do.

  A woman who looks to be about sixty-years-old with graying hair saunters up to the booth. She looks like the mothering type. The kind that makes the best hot cocoa, crochets blankets, and stuff.

  Her gaze bounces between us before coming to a stop on me. Her big eyes widen in horror. Oh god, are their marks on my throat? Do I have a black eye? Shit, I didn’t even look in the mirror. I probably look like I just lost a boxing match.

  “What can I get ya to drink?” she drawls, dragging her gaze away from me.

  “Two coffees,” Markus answers before I can even form a response.

  The old woman seems to bite her tongue, nods her head, and whirls around, heading for the coffee pot. My heart skips a beat in my chest as anxiety swirls. The last thing I need is for Markus to do something to her.

  I wouldn’t put it past him to kill a little old lady.

  I stare down at my hands, which are holding the menu with a death grip. Markus doesn’t say anything, and aside from some late-nineties diner music, silence surrounds us.

  The little old lady returns with our coffees, setting them down in front of us.

  “We’ll have two number one breakfasts,” Markus orders for me, and I lift my gaze to glare at him. He gives me a toothy grin that says try me, and I’m tempted, but not enough to risk someone else’s life. He’ll kill everyone in here, even her, and I couldn’t live with that on my conscience.

  “Sure.” She scribbles something down on her little notepad and then turns to me. It’s then I see her name tag. Minnie. It’s hard to appear normal under her microscopic gaze, especially when I know she can see right through me.

  “Ya know, sweetheart, if you need help…”

  I shake my head, fear rising up. “I don’t need help,” I whisper almost shamefully.

  I do need help, so much help, but not from her.

  Markus clears his throat, and I worry the second I look at him, he’s going to have his gun out and pointed at this old lady’s head. It’ll be an image I won’t soon forget.

  “Listen, lady, you need to mind your own business,” Markus growls like a bear.

  Fear pulses through my veins like a second heartbeat. I’m sure the waitress is going to back off, scared of Markus, but instead, her wary gaze flicks to him. She shoves her notepad into the front of her apron before placing her hands on her hips, ready to give him a lecture.

  “Everything becomes my business when it walks into my diner, boy. I know guys like you, seen ’em my entire life. Always causing trouble and hurting women. Thinking they’re the king of the world. Your type doesn’t scare me. You’re nothing but a little boy to me. I’ve seen much bigger and scarier monsters than you.”

  Oh god. Please.

  “I’m okay, really… everything is okay,” I try to defuse the situation, afraid that Markus is going to lose his cool and flip his shit. My chest tightens, and I’m prepared to jump between this woman and him if I have to.

  Strange enough, the opposite seems to occur. Instead of overreacting, Markus lets out a low chuckle and shakes his head. It’s like he’s amused and not at all threatened. The likelihood of her fighting him is slim, but she could call the police.

  “I appreciate your concern and your bravery. Seriously, lady, you’re hiding some gigantic balls under that tiny apron, but I can assure you, she’s well taken care of. I’m not the one who did that to her face, and I’m not causing trouble, yet. I respect your need to check on her, but she’s fine.”

  Her brows pucker together with disbelief, and I add for reassurance, “I’m okay. He’s not hurting me.”

  She scowls, looking my face over once more. I know she doesn’t believe us, and she shouldn’t, however, after a second, she doesn’t seem to care anymore.

  “If you say so,” she mutters and walks away to submit our order.

  Once she’s out of earshot, I peer over at Markus, giving him a dirty look. I find him sitting back in his seat with a smug look on his face. He thinks he’s so smooth.

  “You thought I was going to hurt her, didn’t you?”

  I shrug. “You hurt me, so what makes it any different?”

  He leans across the table, his eyes bleed into mine, and I can’t help but squirm.

  “I didn’t hurt you because I wanted to, Fallon. You left me no other option, and you continue to put yourself in danger again and again. As for the little old lady, I’m not always a violent person. I can be very understanding, given certain circumstances.”

  It’s my turn to laugh, but I don’t.

  Even though this is a joke. All of it.

  Him and me. What we’re doing right now.

  We’re headed nowhere.

  A car with no destination.

  I have to focus my attention on finding the one thing that the person who took my sister wants. If I can find it, then maybe I can still save her.

  Or at the very least, I’ll have a bartering tool. Hope starts to bloom in my chest at the thought. I could still do this. I’ll save her at any cost. Even if that means putting myself in danger.

  He doesn’t want to help me, anyway. He wants to keep me trapped, keep me as his for as long as he can. Soon he’ll find out I wasn’t made to be kept. This started as a job and will end as one.

  28

  Markus

  I pull into my designated parking spot and cut the engine. The underground parking garage is silent and dimly lit. Still I feel like we’re out in the wide open. I can’t believe I’m bringing her here, to my place, my apartment.

  I bought it because it’s safe. But it’s set up to keep people out, not to keep someone in. There is no way for me to keep Fallon here besides constantly having her tied up, and I know she isn’t going to like that, not one bit.

  “Where are we?” Fallon asks curiously as she peers out the window.

  “My place. Come on.” I get out and jog around the car quickly just in case she gets any ideas about running. I take a step back, giving her some distance so she can get out.

  When she stands, I take her hand, close the car door, and lead her over to the elevator.

  “Jesus, could you maybe s
low down a bit. Not all of us are six feet tall,” she complains, and I grunt in response. All I want to do is get us upstairs. Here in the city, anything could happen, and we don’t need to be ambushed.

  Inside, I punch in my code, and the door slides shut. When they reopen, we’re looking into my penthouse. I tug her out of the elevator and into my living room. She digs her feet into the wood grain floor.

  “Wow… this is your apartment?” The shocked tone of her voice meets my ears.

  I nod and tug her further inside. “You want a drink?” I ask before forcing her to sit on the couch.

  “Sure, why not?”

  I pour us both a glass of bourbon and hand her one. Taking the seat across from her, I lean back and take a sip of the amber liquid. A sigh slips past my lips. I still feel uneasy, but nothing like I felt on the way here or coming into the building.

  Fallon takes a hesitant sip, almost as if to make sure it’s not poisoned or something. Once she is convinced it’s not, she takes an actual drink, leaving the glass half empty. Her blue eyes gleam when they meet mine.

  “How long are you going to keep me here?”

  “Indefinitely,” I reply, swirling the bourbon around in my glass.

  She laughs. “I’m serious.”

  I look up from the amber waves in my glass. “So am I.”

  “You can’t just keep me forever.”

  “We’ll see.”

  She sighs heavily, as if the weight of the world is pressing down on her shoulders. “I need to help my sister.”

  “You can help her. Give me the number. Trust me.”

  “Trust you?” She laughs humorlessly. “How can I trust you? You tell me that you are a bad man. You point out how you bought me and how you’re using me until you’ve had your fill. Hell, you told me just earlier today that you are going back on your word of not hurting me. Now you expect me to trust you?”

  I shrug. “I’ve never lied to you, and none of today would have happened if you would have done what you were told.”

  She places her glass down on the coffee table. “I’m not a child, Markus. You can’t just demand things and expect me to follow them blindly. I have my own mind, fears, and morals. I can’t just override them. I can’t change who I am, and I definitely can’t risk my sister’s life on a whim to trust the man who has not given me a single reason to trust him.”

  Logically, I know she is right, but what she doesn’t realize is that’s the only way this is going to work. She either tells me what I want to know and gives me the information so that I can help her, or she doesn’t. I could easily make everyone disappear. Tie her to the bed and hunt down these people, killing them one by one, but she’s stopping me.

  Fallon is the moral compass I don’t have.

  She’s the guidance I need, the rope tethering me to the rational side of thinking. Her sister would die before I could save her if I did things my way.

  “So, tell me, Fallon. How do you see this working out? What do you think I should do with you?” I give her a moment to answer, but her rosy lips are set in a thin displeasing line. “Hold on, let me guess. I should let you go, but don’t worry because you’re not going to tell anyone what happened to you, right?”

  “I wouldn’t,” she blurts out. To her credit, she sounds sincere.

  Moving, I place my glass on the table as well. “Maybe that’s what you think right now, but in reality, you will eventually give in. People are going to keep asking you. Your parents will know you’re lying right away, and they will nag you about it. Not to mention, the police will get involved. Do you really think you would be able to lie to an officer’s face in an interrogation room?”

  Her eyes go wide, and the reality of everything sinks in. She knows I’m right.

  “I hate to break it to you, but you’re a shit liar. Any cop is going to smell your lies from a mile away, and then they’re going to tell you stuff like, if you don’t tell us the truth, we’ll have no choice but to charge you for obstruction of justice—”

  “They can’t do that,” Fallon gasps. It’s comical how she assumes she’ll be safe when all of this is over. Does she not fully believe me when I say I’m a bad man? Did she not witness me killing a man today? Maybe she’s just blocking it all out, afraid to see the truth that’s right in front of her.

  “Yes, they can, and they will.”

  She shakes her head. “I don’t care what happens in the future. I care about the now. About saving my sister.” Despair drips from every word she speaks.

  “I offered to help you,” I add once more.

  “And I declined. I don’t want your help.”

  “Then I suppose there is nothing I can do for you. You’ll stay with me, and I’ll fuck you whenever and however often I want.”

  There is a long moment of silence.

  “Will you ever admit that it’s more than just sex?”

  Her question surprises me and irritates me because the last thing I need her to think is that she has some kind of hold on me. I’m not ready to admit my feelings to myself, let alone tell her about them. I don’t even know if what I’m feeling is real.

  “Never. It’s just sex. Nothing more. Your cunt is tight, and the fact you’re attractive helps matters, but that’s where it starts and ends.”

  “See, this is exactly why I can’t trust you.” She shoves out of the chair and turns to face me. “You say you never lie to me, but you do. You just did. Can you not admit the truth to me, or to yourself?”

  The sides of my mouth tip up in an evil smirk. “Maybe it’s you that’s developing feelings? Is my cock that satisfying? Or are you afraid to admit that you’re falling for a man that’s on the wrong side of the law? Are you self-conscious? Worried what Mom and Dad will think when this all ends? I bet they’ll love to hear how hard you came on my—”

  My words are cut off, and before I can even grasp what is occurring, her hand is flying and landing with a sear against my cheek. The force of her slap sends my head to the side. Nostrils flaring, I suck air into my lungs. I try and calm myself, but I can’t. I’m ready to implode. Fists clenched and chest heaving, I turn my head slowly back toward her.

  As if she realizes what she’s done, her blue eyes grow wide, horror and fear overtaking her features as she takes a step back.

  I barely manage to keep my voice even as I speak. “I’ve saved your ass, protected you. Fed you and offered to fucking help you save your sister, and you repay me with violence.” I shove off the couch, anger vibrating through me.

  Instinct kicks in, and she takes another step back, and then another. Her lips tremble, and she opens her mouth to speak, but I shake my head. I’m not sure what I would do if she spoke right now. I’m pissed, burning with rage.

  “Mmm-Markus. I’m sorry. I didn’t—” I’m on her in a flash.

  Everything moves at a rapid pace from that moment forward. Like a fucking beast, I strip her out of her clothes, ripping them clean from her body.

  She lets out a soft cry that barely registers in my mind.

  My actions are careless, and my heart is completely disconnected from my body. In this instant, I’m relying on my most basic instincts, and those tell me to subdue her, to show her who the fucking alpha is. I’ll deal with the consequences later, but right now, I need to put her in her place. The place she should’ve been in all along.

  “You want me to show you what you mean to me? Want me to prove to you how good you had it?” I grit through my teeth.

  “Markus… don’t. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—” I shove her into the couch face first, not wanting to listen to her excuses, and grab each arm, twisting them around, so I can hold both wrists in my grasp.

  With little effort, I shove my pants down my muscular thighs. My cock springs free, the organ as hard as a diamond. I look down at Fallon’s slender body, the slope of her back, the goosebumps that pebble her flesh, the way she trembles, waiting for the worst to come.

  I almost break down then but force myself
to push forward. My cock slips between her ass cheeks and Fallon lets out a ragged sob.

  “Is this what you want? For me to fuck you like a whore?” I growl and guide my cock down to her pussy.

  Normally, she would be wet for me by now, but looking at her folds, I can tell she is dry. The fear outweighs the pleasure in this instance. It shouldn’t matter to me. That’s how I’ve treated all the others. I’ve fucked them regardless of foreplay, and yet try as I fucking may, I look down at Fallon, at her trembling body, at her dry cunt, and my cock deflates.

  To fuck her now, like this, would destroy everything. It would break her, hurt her beyond repair, and she would surely hate me.

  I can’t fucking do it.

  I can’t hurt her, can’t treat her like the others because she isn’t like them. She’s more, so much more, and that infuriates me. Rage bubbles up inside me, and I want to punch myself, make myself bleed for ever thinking I could go through with this. She’s already bruised and experienced trauma, and here I am about to hurt her all over again.

  Angry with myself and the situation, I pull away. I release her wrists and tuck my cock back into my jeans.

  “Get up!” I order harshly.

  Fallon slowly rises off the couch, tears cling to her blonde lashes, and her lips tremble. She’s looking at me like I’m a monster, and I suppose that’s what I am. What I’ll always be. She isn’t moving fast enough for my impatient ass, so I grab her by the wrist and tug her to her feet. She’s unsteady on her legs, but I don’t give her time to balance herself. Dragging her into the bedroom, I shove her toward the mattress and head toward the closet.

  “I didn’t mean it. I’m sorry…” she pleads, and her soft, sad voice unravels me. Thankfully, I find the handcuffs I was looking for and reenter the bedroom to find her sitting at the edge of the bed.

  “Move your ass up by the headboard.” She scurries back, and the fear in her eyes is astounding. I keep fucking up, keep hurting her, keep pushing her away, but it’s not like she’s making it easy. She doesn’t give me the information I need. She doesn’t want my help finding her sister. She expects me to let her go when I can never do such a thing.