by Mae Doyle
“Nice to meet you,” I say. “You guys ready or is there something else I can get you?”
“Sit.” Marco scoots over a little and pats the seat next to him. There’s hardly enough room there for a tiny cheerleader to sit, let alone someone with actual hips, and I shake my head.
“Thanks for the offer, but there’s no sitting down when we’re on shift,” I tell him with a shrug. “Sorry.”
“It wasn’t an offer,” Marco tells me, his voice and his face growing dark. “Sit, Natalia. There’s something that we want to talk to you about.”
He reaches out before I can step back, his huge hand closing on my wrist and then he pulls me forward. For a moment, I feel stuck to the carpet, but then I take a step, and another, and slide into the booth next to him.
If Dina sees me sitting down then I know that I’m out of a job and totally fucked. Marco swings his arm around my shoulders, pulling me closer. He smells delicious, like expensive cologne, and I find myself leaning into him to catch a big whiff before I catch myself and try to pull back.
“You like working here?” He asks. I’m pressed so close to his body that I can feel the rumble of his voice and I have to blink a few times to clear my head enough to concentrate and be able to answer him.
“It’s a great job,” I tell him, which is a lie. I’m on my feet all day, barely make enough to make ends meet, and most of the customers are assholes. There’s no way that I’m telling him any of that, though, not when Dina could be anywhere listening to me.
“Is it, though? You look tired.” He reaches over with his free hand and pushes some hair back behind my ear. The touch of his skin on mine makes me shiver and sends a jolt through my body. I’m surprised that I’m having this ridiculous physical reaction to some guy I’ve never met before, but I can’t help it.
His face is so close to mine that I could easily lean over and kiss him, but instead I move to stand up.
Marco tightens his grip around my shoulders.
“I think she wants to go back to work,” the man across from Marco says and I look at him gratefully, glad that at least one of these guy is on my side. He doesn’t look worried for me, though, he just shakes his head.
“You want to go back to work, Natalie, or do you want someone to take care of you?” Marco’s voice is soothing and I can almost feel myself relax.
Almost.
Except I’m about to get caught by Dina or her creepy husband and then I’m fucked straight out of a job.
“You mean like a sugar daddy?” I joke, pulling away from him again.
Again, he doesn’t let me go. His arm tightens around my shoulders, pinning me against his body. I feel a jolt of fear shoot through my body and I shift position, trying to put some space between the two of us.
But I can’t. He’s easily twice my size, stronger than me, and obviously has no interest in letting me go.
“Something like that.”
The man next to Margo chuckles and I feel my face flush hot red. I need to get the fuck out of there, and soon.
“Natalia!” Dina’s voice from across the restaurant makes me whip around. She’s standing just outside the kitchen door, disappointment splashed across her face. “What are you doing?”
“I’m so sorry!” I say, pulling away from Marco. This time he lets me go and I hurry across the restaurant to talk to Dina. “I didn’t have a choice,” I tell her. “That man pulled me down next to him and I couldn’t get back up.”
She holds up a hand to stop me from talking. “Natalia, I’m sorry, but I warned you at the start of your shift. One more strike, remember? That’s what I told you. Well, what the hell do you think that this was?”
My heart sinks and I whip around to look at the table of four men. They’re all turned to look at me, obviously wanting to see what’s going to happen next.
“I didn’t have a choice,” I hiss, turning back to Dina. “He pulled me down next to him and wouldn’t let me get back up.” Anger rushes through me and I have to take a deep breath to keep from totally blowing up at her.
I’ve fucked up a lot in my life, but this isn’t my fault and she can’t blame me for it.
Except it seems like that’s exactly what she’s going to do.
She shakes her head sadly like she can’t believe how disappointed in me she is. “You should know better than to flaunt the rules, Natalia. Give me your apron.”
When I don’t immediately strip it off she points at me and then snaps her fingers, the sound loud in the quiet restaurant. Even the table of teenage boys is quiet as they all watch to see what’s going to happen to me.
“Please,” I whisper. I hate begging, hate owing anyone anything but I don’t see that I have a choice right now. “Please, don’t do this to me. I need this job, Dina. I’m not going to have a place to live if I don’t have this job.”
She frowns and I think for a moment that I’ve gotten through to her, but then she shakes her head and I feel my heart drop. “Do better by your next boss, Natalia,” she tells me. “Apron. Now. Don’t make me take it off of you in front of everyone.”
One look at her face tells me that she’s willing to do just that if it’s what it takes for me to give her back her apron so I untie it and rip it off of my head angrily before tossing it to her.
She catches it against her chest and balls it up, squeezing it tight.
“Get fucked,” I say, the words out of my mouth before I can stop them. I know that I’m not getting paid today and that I just got screwed out of all of my tips, but before I leave, there’s one more thing that I have to do.
Ignoring the fact that everyone is staring at me, I spin away from Dina and march back over to the men’s table. Marco is staring at me, one eyebrow raised, like he’s trying to figure out what I’m going to do.
I could hit him. The thought of slapping him across his smug face is so appealing that I have to restrain myself to keep from doing something stupid. Instead of facing assault charges, I slam my hands down on the table and glare at him.
“You happy?” I ask, doing my best to keep my voice low so that I don’t sound hysterical. “You just made me lose my job, you asshole.”
He grins at me like the whole situation is hysterical and I reach out, grabbing his glass before I know what I’m doing. It’s mostly empty but there is still some whiskey and a few melted ice cubes in it and I swing my arm back, throwing the liquid in his smug face.
As soon as I do it I realize how badly I’ve fucked up and I turn away from the table, practically running through the restaurant, back through the saloon doors, and through the kitchen to grab my stuff.
It’s not much, but it’s what I have, and I’m not leaving it behind.
Dina follows me, her arms across her chest, shaking her head and clucking from time to time.
“You know what?” I ask, spinning angrily to look at her. “Your restaurant sucks, your pay sucks, and I hate it here.”
“I hope you figure it all out, Natalia,” she responds, maddeningly calm. Before I can come up with a retort, she reaches past me and opens the back door for me. Bright sunshine streams in through the door and I have to grit my teeth as I step out of the restaurant.
I have no idea what I’m going to do now, but I do know that I’m fucked.
Although I just want to go home and go to bed, I have to find a new job or I’m not going to have a home or a place to sleep. As I walk across the parking lot I make a mental list of places I haven’t applied at before. I’ll just start next door with Tony Tony Tony’s, then work my way down the street.
At least this shit town has no shortage of restaurants.
Before I can make it out of the parking lot, though, a huge black Escalade backs out of its space and turns, cutting me off.
I know that I should let it go, but I’m pissed, so I march up to the driver’s door and prepare to knock on the window.
Chapter 4
Marco
From the moment I saw Natalia step out of the k
itchen I knew that she was perfect for our games. There’s something about her that immediately drew me to her. I want her. Not just for our games, although I’m happy to take her for those if that’s how I’m going to get her.
The last thing I an do is admit to the guys that I think I want her for more than a hut, but my body feels drawn to her.
Maybe it’s the fact that she looks a little broken but she still has some fight left in her. It’s obvious that there’s something shitty in her life that she’s trying to heal or run from and the fact that she just fell into my lap makes her perfect.
“I told you that coming here would pan out,” I tell Nathan, my right-hand man. He’d seen Natalia a second after I did, but still after me, so she’s mine. I know for a fact that he’ll bitch and moan about it for a long time, but I don’t care.
I saw her first, I get her. Those are the rules.
“Next you’re going to be saying that we need to hit up every little podunk town around here to find girls,” he complains, stretching back in his seat. “And there’s no way that I want to spend all of my time eating in places that have gingham tablecloths and overcook their steaks.”
“You’re pissy because Marco found her first,” Zach says. He’s driving, or will be, once we pull out of the parking lot, but I’m not leaving without Natalia. Seeing her get fired like that made it that much easier to take her away from her life.
“Fuck you,” Nathan says, staring Zach down.
Dale hasn’t said anything and I glance over at him. “You good?” Dale’s with us because he likes the hunt but he doesn’t need to be out looking for a girl like I do. Just like Nathan and Zach, he already has his girl picked out, she’s back waiting on the island for us.
Training. Getting stronger. Getting ready for the hunt.
“Oh, I’m just here for the fun of it and the whiskey,” he tells me, craning his neck to see behind us. “She’s coming, Zach. If you back up now you can stop her but not hit her.”
I raise an eyebrow as Zach does just that, pulling to a stop right in front of Natalia. She looks pissed and tired, like she’s on the verge of tears, but it’s anger that flashes across her face when Zach gets in her way. Just like I thought she would, she stalks over to the car, her fist raised to pound on the window.
Before she can do that, though, I hop out of the car and grab her wrist and her waist, spinning her around so that she’s caught between me and the car. “Good to see you again, Natalia,” I say.
“What the hell are you doing?” Just like I knew she would, she pulls her wrist back, trying to get me to let her go. “What the fuck is your problem? First you get me fired then you come stalk and harass me in the parking lot? Who the fuck are you, anyway?”
She yanks back on my grip, but there’s no way that I’m going to let her go, and I just squeeze her wrist tighter to make that point clear. I love how her face goes pale when she realizes that she’s not getting out of this.
She smells interesting, like sweat and cheap perfume. Above that, though, I can smell her fear, and that’s what turns me on the most. Leaning forward, I take a huge whiff, running my tongue up along her neck before she can try to get away from me.
“Hate that you lost your job,” I say.
“Fuck you.” She rears back and spits at me, the thick glob landing on my cheek before sliding down my skin. “Let me go.”
I always carry a tissue in my pocket and I wipe it away, tucking the used tissue into her jeans pocket. “Thanks for that,” I tell her.
“I’ll scream.” She’s breathing hard, her chest rising and falling as she stares at me. I can tell that she thinks she’s being tough, but she has no idea how strong she’s going to have to be to survive what’s coming next.
“Scream,” I tell her. “I love the sound of it.”
She opens her mouth to do just that but I clamp my hand over it, yanking her closer to me so that she loses her balance. She’s a petite thing and even when she slams into me, she doesn’t come anywhere near to knocking me off my feet.
Before she can scream or fight back, I scoop her to me, pulling her into my chest, then turn and toss her lightly into the car. Dale grabs her shoulders, pulling her farther onto the seat so that she can’t try to slip back out and I hop it, slamming the door shut and then locking it.
“What the fuck are you doing?” She cries, kicking out at the two of us. “You can’t just kidnap someone like this! Who the fuck are you?”
She hits me, her fists slamming uselessly into my chest. It must make her feel good though, even though it has no impact on me, because she does it again.
“Natalia!” I grab her wrists to keep her from hitting me and then pin them down by her side. She struggles, her body writhing this way and that as she tries to free herself from my grasp, but I don’t let go. “You need to chill the fuck out, okay? We’re not kidnapping you.”
“Sure as hell looks like it!” She snaps, throwing her head back to scream again.
I roll my eyes and nod at Dale, who lifts his gun from his hip and slams it down on the back of her head.
Immediately, she falls forward, but I catch her, turning her so that she’s leaning against my shoulder for the ride. That will keep her comfortable and the fact that she’s not screaming means that we’ll actually make it back to the island without wanting to kill her.
She looks so peaceful when she’s not screaming, her perfect little mouth parted a little, her breath coming slow and even. I let my eyes trace down her body, enjoying her curves and the way she fills out her clothes. It would be so easy to have a taste of her now, but that’s not the way I want to do this.
Natalia is special. She’s rough around the edges and a little broken, and I’m going to sand those edges down and fix her. I’m going to refine her until she’s my greatest masterpiece.
Then, and only then, can I touch her.
And, by that point, she’s going to be begging me to. She’s going to beg me for a lot of things and I’m going to love every single moment of it.
“We’ll be back at the island in about two hours,” Zach tells me.
“Good.” I lean back in my seat, enjoying the smooth ride. “Why don’t you put on some Tchaikovsky? He’s perfect for something like this.”
Chapter 5
Natalia
Footsteps wake me up.
They walk away from me, stop, then come back before whoever is pacing hovers over me for just a moment, probably long enough to tell that I’m still alive, then they walk away again.
I want to open my eyes but I’m afraid of being caught, so I try to keep my breathing as natural as possible while I think through what the hell just happened.
I got fired from work, that much I remember. I think that I’ll always see the look of glee on Dina’s face when she told me to take off my apron. The memory makes me hot and I want to shift the blanket off of me but I’m too afraid to move.
And then what?
There was a table of men. Terrifying men, to be sure, but I remember that I wanted one of them.
Michael.
Mark.
No, Marco.
It sounds like the name of a wanna-be gangster and I almost smile to myself before I remember that someone’s waiting on me to wake up.
The footsteps come back to me and pause for a lot longer than they have before, then the person turns and hurries away.
Crap.
I wait until I hear the door shut behind then then I open my eyes and sit up, flinging my covers off of me so that I can get out of bed.
My bare foot hits the cold tile in the room and I gasp, pulling it back up onto the bed just a second later. I didn’t expect to be at home but I have no idea where I am. Never, not even when I was couch surfing after running away from my foster parents, was I in a room like this.
It’s a simple room, and definitely one I’ve never seen before. The walls are white and the one window doesn’t have any curtains, although I do notice that it has bars across it. The
floor is tile, also white, which is why I was able to hear the person walk across it so well.
White walls, white floor…I feel like I’m in an insane asylum and pinch my arm hard enough to make me suck in a breath.
“Ouch! So where the fuck am I?” I ask, looking around me again.
There’s no furniture in the room except for the bed I’m in, which is also white, with white sheets. It feels so sterile, like a hospital, that I feel a jolt of panic shoot through me.
I get out of bed, gasping at the feeling of the cold tile on my feet. I’m still wearing what I wore to work except for my shoes and socks and I wrap my arms around myself, trying to get warm.
At least whoever brought me here and put me to bed didn’t strip me out of my clothes. The thought of being naked in front of someone while I was passed out is enough to make me feel queasy.
Part of me wants to call out and see who’s here, but the rest of me knows that I just need to get out. Gathering all of my courage, I cross the room as quickly as possible, yanking on the door.
It doesn’t open.
Panic shoots through me and I pull it again, harder this time, even going so far as to brace my foot on the doorframe.
“No,” I whisper, jiggling the handle. “No, let me out. Let me out!” All the sanity that I had and all of the thoughts about staying calm are gone and I scream, pounding on the door.
“Let me out! Let me out!” My throat hurts and the room echoes with the sound of me screaming and hitting the door, but nobody comes.
After a moment, I stop. I’m breathing hard, my body feels like it’s on high alert. Turning around, I spot the window and I run to it, flying past the bed in my hurry to reach it.
“Please, please, please,” I say like a mantra, grabbing the bars and shaking them. They don’t budge, don’t even rattle in place and I feel my heart sink as I look out the window. The sky is growing dark, the sun setting as beautiful fingers of light streak across the sky.
