Torn

by Natasha Knight

  “Punish me,” I say again, tears warming my face.

  He draws me over his lap so my torso is resting on the bed and my legs are hanging off his thighs. He scissors his legs to trap mine between his and takes both of my wrists into one of his hands at the small of my back. He then rubs one cheek, then the other and when he slaps the flat of his hand over one, I gasp and think I need this.

  It’s a cleansing. A sort of contrition.

  And maybe he needs it too.

  He brings his hand down again and again, two on one cheek, then two on the other, and it stings more than I think it should and although I don’t want to struggle, although I want to take it, he still has to squeeze his legs together to keep mine trapped and the hand that’s gripping my wrists is firm, just shy of bruising.

  It’s loud, the spanking. Louder than my cries which are more whimpers.

  I’m biting my lip to take it, and I don’t know if when I cry it’s because it hurts or because I just need to, need to let out the strange emotions inside me.

  And I know when he punishes me, it’s not only for my wanting his brother, or for watching him come, or for letting him watch me.

  It’s because he wanted this too. Because he gave me to him.

  When I’m too tired to struggle anymore and my arms and legs go limp, he stops.

  “Enough?”

  I nod.

  I’m exhausted and I just want him to hold me and when he raises me up to cradle me against him, I turn my face into his chest and I cry. I cry deep, quiet sobs. I don’t understand the reason for them. I don’t understand all these mixed-up emotions.

  When it’s finally over, I reach up, sit up, and he’s still watching me. With his hands on either side of my face, he uses his thumbs to wipe away my tears before kissing me. And when he cups the back of my head, his touch is gentle.

  “You’re mine. Even when he fucks you, you’re mine.”

  I nod. “I know that. I know.”

  He’s hard, I feel him between my legs and when he lifts my hips and lowers me onto him, all I can do is cling to him, our eyes locked, close, so close.

  It’s not urgent, this fucking. It’s him reclaiming me, fucking me where his brother just fucked me. Where his brother just came inside me. Fucking me deep and slow and when he comes, I touch his face and just look at him. I can’t look away and I don’t come. I just watch him and what I’m feeling, it’s twisted. It makes no sense.

  When he’s still, and he’s holding me, I run my fingers through his hair.

  “You’re beautiful,” I say.

  He gives a small smile and when we sleep that night, we’re both clinging to one another, naked, the room smelling of sex, of us, his gentle heartbeat lulling me to sleep, his soft breath on the top of my head, arms around me, cocooning me.

  The next morning, it’s close to eleven when I wake up. After a shower, I go downstairs, trying to push the memory of last night out of my head.

  I don’t know what I feel. A little embarrassed at it all. A little hungover from the wine and the whiskey. A lot raw from the fucking.

  The spanking, it wasn’t a punishment at all. It was a purging.

  I feel different this morning, but it’s not lighter. I remember what Gregory said to me when they brought me back to the island. That it’s just us now. That things are changing.

  I can’t think about a time that Sebastian will give me to Gregory. A time that I’ll belong to Gregory. I don’t think I’ll be able to stand it, Sebastian here with us, but me, not with him. Not in his bed. Not in his arms.

  It makes no sense, what I feel, because being with them last night, I liked it. We were close. So close. And then, Sebastian and me…

  I’m so confused and the word that keeps coming up, that one word to describe what I’m feeling, it can’t be that.

  I give my head a shake.

  Right now, I just have to focus on how I’m going to get through the morning. How I’m going to look Gregory in the eye.

  But the moment I get outside, I find a note addressed to me sitting on top of the plate in my place. I pick it up, unfold it.

  Helena,

  Gregory and I are off the island for an appointment. You’re on your own for the day. We have a party tonight. I need you ready by eight o’clock for a late dinner. Dress will be sent up later today. Wear your hair up.

  S

  Okay. I guess I’m relieved, at least for the time being.

  I eat a leisurely breakfast and spend the afternoon swimming and reading. I even fall asleep poolside and by the time seven o’clock rolls around, I’m a little bored, so I go upstairs to get ready.

  The dress is a beautiful floor length, strapless, white dress with a flowing skirt and long slit that reaches a little higher than mid-thigh. On the bodice and part of the skirt are butterflies in various shades of turquoise and sea-blue some with wings wide open, some resting, all beautiful.

  The high-heeled sandals that come with the dress are about as comfortable as I’d expect but the whole look is beautiful, right down to the diamond studs and bracelet that go with them.

  For the first time in what feels like forever, I put on makeup, lining my eyes heavily in black, and twisting my hair into an elegant chignon. I look different than usual. Older and more sophisticated.

  I go downstairs in the hopes of having a drink to calm my nerves because I keep thinking about last night.

  The living room is dark, and I don’t switch on any lights, but the moment I reach for the bottle of vodka, someone clears their throat behind me.

  My back stiffens, and I startle.

  Goosebumps cover my flesh and my nipples seem to harden in the suddenly cool room.

  Before I can move, Gregory is behind me. He takes the bottle from me and pours me a glass.

  “Ice?”

  I shake my head. I smell his aftershave and he’s so close, I can feel his breath on the back of my naked neck.

  He holds the glass out to me.

  “Thank you,” I say, taking it, his fingers warm against mine.

  He surprises me when he walks away, back to his seat. I turn and remain where I am. I need the distance.

  He lets his gaze run over me. “You look good.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Did you have a nice day?” he asks, swirling the amber liquid around his glass.

  I nod. Swallow a big gulp. Almost choke on it.

  He must notice because he chuckles. “Do I make you nervous, Helena?”

  He didn’t call me Willow Girl. That’s good, right?

  “No,” I say.

  “You sure?”

  I nod. “Where’s Sebastian?” I ask.

  “Come here,” he says instead of answering me and pats the seat beside him.

  “I’m fine.”

  “Come here.” His tone makes a command out of the words and I go. I sit beside him. “Don’t worry, I can’t touch you when Sebastian isn’t in the room.”

  “Is that some sort of agreement you two made?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I’m glad you consulted me.”

  “Why would we need to consult our Willow Girl?”

  Ah. There it is.

  “My Willow Girl,” Sebastian’s voice booms.

  I startle, gasp.

  Sebastian is standing at the entrance of the room wearing a tux.

  “Your Willow Girl,” Gregory says, getting to his feet. He doesn’t seem ruffled, though.

  “Don’t forget that, brother.”

  “You’d never let me, brother.”

  I stand up too. “What’s the party?”

  “A little thing Gallo’s throwing.”

  “Joseph Gallo? Why are we going? You don’t even like him.”

  “I don’t trust him. Like has nothing to do with it.”

  “Then why are we going?”

  “Because he invited us.”

  “Why do I have to go?”

  “Because you look pretty on my arm. Let’s go.”


  He holds out his hand.

  I go to him, take it. At the door, he puts a wrap around my shoulders that matches the dress.

  “You look beautiful.”

  “Thank you.”

  We go out to the boat and tonight, I ride inside while the brothers ride outside, Gregory smoking a cigarette. It brings back memories of the night Lucinda had me kidnapped and I look away.

  But when we dock at the same spot where Sebastian and I came when I had to sign that stupid ledger, I hesitate.

  “Where’s the party?”

  “At our property,” Sebastian says, obviously waiting to tell me until the last minute.

  “I don’t want to go there.” I back away from him.

  Gregory makes a noise and steps off the boat onto the dock.

  “We’re both here with you, Helena. Nothing’s going to happen.”

  “Please. I don’t think I can.”

  Sebastian takes my hand, holds it tight in his. “I promise I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”

  “I don’t have a choice, do I?”

  He doesn’t answer. He doesn’t have to.

  With Gregory on one side of me, and Sebastian on the other, we head to the building and I wonder how Lucinda and Ethan got me to it without anyone seeing. It’s a little bit of a walk from the dock.

  As we get closer, I grow more nauseous, and when we’re climbing the stairs, Sebastian has to all but drag me up.

  The doors open to a beautifully lit space and soft opera music playing in the background.

  The gathering is small, maybe forty people, and a long dining table is set formally. Gold and white are apparently the theme and I recognize the receptionist who greeted us last time.

  We’ve just taken three glasses of champagne from a passing waiter when Joseph Gallo makes his way toward us.

  I stiffen and slide my hand into Sebastian’s.

  He squeezes it.

  “Sebastian. Gregory,” he says, shaking their hands, smiling wide. “And Helena. Pleasure to see you again.”

  I don’t offer my hand.

  “Helena, why don’t we go find some food,” Gregory says, taking my arm.

  I look to Sebastian, but he’s got his eyes locked on Gallo.

  “Come on,” Gregory says.

  I let him lead me away. I turn to him and he seems relaxed, picking up a canape and chewing on it, replacing his already empty champagne glass with something stronger.

  “What’s going on?” I ask.

  “Gallo has the only key to that room Lucinda put you in.”

  “He knew?”

  “Possibly more than that. Watch closely.”

  I do. I can see from here the older man lose his cool, flustered maybe for the first time in his life. Sebastian stands tall and proud and powerful, a force to be reckoned with.

  “Do you think he knows where Lucinda and Ethan are?”

  “Not sure,” Gregory says, eating another bite of something.

  “How can you eat right now?” I ask, turning to him.

  He shrugs a shoulder. “I’m hungry.”

  A woman approaches us, older, but quite beautiful and elegant, and I glance up at Gregory, who seems to roll his eyes.

  “Jacqueline, you look lovely, as always,” he says, taking her offered hand and kissing it.

  The woman smiles, cocks her head and gives me a sideways glance. But she isn’t interested in me.

  “I haven’t seen you in a long time, Gregory. I’ve missed you.”

  “I’ve had a guest, this is Helena Willow. From the states.”

  “Oh. Pleasure.” I can see from her face it’s anything but. She turns back to Gregory and follows his eyes to Sebastian and Gallo. She grins. “Your brother seems to be in rare form. I’ll go say hello to him since you seem occupied with your guest.”

  Gregory grabs her arm. “I wouldn’t do that just yet.”

  She looks at him, confused for a moment. He gives her a smile.

  “I’ll see you later tonight, Jacqueline.”

  With that, he dismisses her, and I turn to him. “Do you fuck her or something? Isn’t she a little old for you?”

  “Some might say you’re a little young for me.”

  “I’m only a few years younger than you.”

  “She’s only a few years older.”

  “Besides, I’m not for you.”

  He leans in close, cups my ass. “I don’t remember you shoving me away when you were coming on my dick last night.”

  I hate that his comment flusters me, leaves me feeling embarrassed and at a loss.

  “Why did he spank you?” he asks, his expression changing, becoming serious.

  I feel myself flush red. Again.

  “Spankings are loud. I have ears,” he says.

  “None of your business.”

  “Tell me anyway.”

  I look at his dark eyes, so similar to Sebastian’s yet so different. “I asked him to.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I looked at you when I came.”

  He’s quiet, considering. I guess he doesn’t expect me to be as direct as he can be. “Why did you?”

  I shake my head, shrug my shoulder and look at the middle of his chest for a second. “I don’t know. It was just where I was looking.”

  “Bullshit.”

  I shift my gaze to his eyes. “What do you want me to say?”

  “The truth.”

  “And what do you think that is?”

  “You like me watching you. You like watching me. And you like being fucked by both of us.”

  I don’t know how to answer that. It’s the truth, after all. Gregory speaks the truth.

  “Difference is, you sleep in his bed,” he says.

  “I’m his.”

  “Because you have to be or because you want to be?”

  “Both.”

  “And what about me? What about how you look at me?”

  His gaze shifts to somewhere beyond me, and I turn to find Sebastian approach with Gallo in tow. He looks at the both of us before signaling to Gregory that we should follow, and I’m saved from having to answer.

  Sebastian and Gallo go ahead of us up the stairs and Gregory follows with his hand at my low back.

  When we reach Gallo’s office, he unlocks the door and we all enter. He moves behind his desk, opens a drawer. From inside it, he pulls out a CD or DVD. Sebastian takes it, pockets it.

  “Are there copies?”

  “No.”

  “Did you watch it?”

  Gallo glances at me, shakes his head no.

  Sebastian steps close to the older man, takes him by the collar and lifts him.

  Considering everything I’ve been through with Sebastian, this is the most violent I’ve seen him and it’s startling.

  “I’ll throw you out the fucking window if I find out you had anything to do with this.”

  “I didn’t. I told you. I was the one who told you where she was, remember?”

  He was?

  “That doesn’t prove innocence.”

  “How many times do you want me say it? I questioned the girl and she said Lucinda had asked her for a copy of the key for storage purposes. She didn’t know any better and your mother—”

  “Stepmother.”

  “Your stepmother can be persistent. I only bothered to look at the video at all when I noticed my key was missing.”

  “You keep your keys on you.”

  “Not that one. There’s no need. No one ever goes down there.”

  “Fine.”

  Sebastian releases the older man, and Gallo stumbles backward, rights himself and adjusts his collar.

  “Get out,” Sebastian says.

  We watch as Gallo leaves, closing the door behind him.

  “I really wanted to see you throw him out the window,” Gregory says. He’s sitting on one of the chairs, casual, his ankle crossed over his other knee.

  Sebastian leans on the front of the desk, folds his arms
and looks from Gregory to me.

  “What were you two talking about downstairs?”

  “Nothing,” I say too quickly.

  He narrows his eyes. He knows I’m lying.

  “I was asking her why you spanked her last night.”

  “What?” Sebastian starts, not sounding surprised. “Did you jerk off to the thought of it, brother?” he asks, taking a step toward Gregory.

  “No need,” Greg says, standing and taking a step toward his brother so they’re nose to nose. “I’d had my fill.”

  “I should throw you out the fucking window.” Sebastian takes hold of Gregory’s shirt.

  “I’d like to see you try.” Gregory’s response matches Sebastian’s and the two turn a circle.

  “What are you doing?” I ask, trying to step between them. “Having some sort of pissing contest?”

  Neither looks at me and I put one hand on each of their fists.

  “You need to mark your territory or something?” I continue, trying to yank them off each other.

  “We already established territory,” Sebastian says, his eyes on his brother.

  “I thought we had too,” Gregory says. “But you keep going back on our agreement.”

  “What agreement?” I ask.

  Nothing.

  “What agreement?” I ask again.

  For a minute, I think they’re going to fight, and I think that yes, one of them will throw the other out the window.

  But then Gregory says something in Italian and Sebastian exhales.

  He gives me a glance because whatever Gregory just said diffused things.

  They release each other and I find myself exhaling.

  “What agreement?” I ask once more a moment later.

  “You, Helena,” Greg answers, eyes on his brother. “You’re the agreement.”

  13

  Sebastian

  I look at Helena, then at my brother and in that minute, I hate him. I hate him for what he proposed. Because there is a way out. A way for Helena to be mine. For this to be over without breaking tradition. Without consequences for the next generation of Scafoni sons.

  But I’m not entertaining that. No fucking way. Even if she agreed, I wouldn’t allow it.

  My dick is hard at the thought, though. That’s the sickest part of this. And my brother knows it.