by Anne Connor
The each grab a handle on one of the thick wooden doors leading into the boss’ office.
This room has been converted from one of the guest suites into his private office, or I guess it never was a guest room to begin with. I can’t remember now. I’ve been in so many of the rooms in this high tower, that I can hardly remember each of them, and even though we built this place from the ground up, I don’t remember what it looked like in our imaginations when it was just a distant fantasy, not yet erected in steel and glass.
“Boss?” One of the men says, unmoving except for his terse lips. These guards always look like this. They’re wound up. They’re wooden. The talk and move like marionette puppets, controlled by some unseen, unnamed person or thing up above us all.
My uncle is peering out the window. He’s a short man, and he’s more like a father to me than an uncle, although in this business, with bloodlines so close and so paramount, sometimes I think a father and an uncle are closer than you think. My cousins and I share a set of grandparents, and they say the bond between a grandparent and grandchild can be stronger than that between father and son.
“Come in,” he says casually. He’s always had a veneer of grace. He doesn’t seem like the unpredictable man I know him to be. His demeanor is soft, almost feminine. He seems nurturing in his office right now, the way he tells us to come in so inviting and friendly.
And then he sees the girl. His eyes don’t widen the way a man consumed with lust would open his eyes to her, like I felt myself do early today when I saw her in the flesh for the first time. No, his eyes close slightly, the lids hiding his view slightly. It’s as though he doesn’t want to see all of her. He only wants to see certain parts. He doesn’t want to see what makes her real, what makes her tick, what makes her her. He wants to see what he can use.
“Sit,” he says. “Not you two. You two get out,” he says to his sons, but it doesn’t sound mean-spirited. It sounds like he’s joking, but he isn’t. He means it. “I should tell you to get out too, but this is your find, and I want you to thank you for bringing her to me.”
I look back to my two cousins as they back away from me and Cherry toward the door. The big double doors close in their faces as they keep backing away. Cherry and I step forward to my uncle and take a seat in either of the chairs facing his desk.
“This is the girl you were talking about when you said she was just a kid, isn’t it?” my uncle asks, taking a seat behind his desk.
He’s an older man, and he looks like my father, if my father had thinning hair and a greying moustache. No, my father is handsome, with thick, black curly hair and a square jaw, and at just under six feet, I’ve seen women try to pick him up when we go for our weekly dinners at the local bar and grill. His brother, on the other hand, had thinning hair and is short. He wears more expensive clothes, though, and could buy and sell my father. He’s spent more money on the furnishings in this room than my father’s entire net worth.
“Uncle, I have to tell you something. I have to tell you the truth.” My words hang in the air between us as I look away from my uncle and to my right, where Cherry is sitting. I couldn’t let her endure whatever the hell my uncle would do to her for being unable to pay. I wouldn’t be able to look in the mirror. I’d reach out with my fist and smash it to pieces if I saw myself in it. I’d do the same to my own fucking face if I could.
“The truth?” My uncle gets up from his desk and slips a hand under his chin. “I’m sure we always tell each other the truth, Sean.”
“I haven’t.” Heat rushes between my ears. I can feel Cherry’s energy next to me as I inhale and exhale a deep breath. I consider what I’m about to say. I’ve come this far, and my only options now are either telling this lie or feeding her to the wolves.
A lie in this life, it’s not like a lie in any other. I remember going to confession when I was a boy. The confessional seal was a sacrament. It was sacred and the priests would protect that covenant. You could confess anything. Everything. The sacrament of the confessional was revered. It still is. The confessional is sacred. And I’m about to confess something that isn’t true at all.
“She’s my fiancee,” I say. I exhale the words through my mouth. “I am just learning about all of this now, as you are. Cherry and I keep secrets from each other, like the fact that her father owed this money. But it’s out in the open now, and she can’t pay up, and I’m taking on her debt. Anything you want to do to her, do it to me instead.”
My uncle folds his hands under his chin and clasps his two index fingers together, putting them to his lips. He nods and smiles. I know his smile doesn’t signal mirth.
“Sean. This woman is your fiancee?” He pushes away from his desk and walks over to the window overlooking the strip. “What about last week when we had the engagement party for your cousin? You didn’t think to mention that you had a girl of your own?”
I clear my throat. He’s right. I seem shady as fuck right now, and I don’t blame him for questioning me.
“I didn’t want to take away from Kevin’s celebration. You know how Bianca can be.”
“That’s right,” my uncle says. “Bianca is a brat. He can do better. Is that what you’re saying?”
“No,” I say coolly. “I just didn’t want to take the focus off of them. They deserved it. They deserve all the happiness in the world.”
My uncle clears his throat and comes back over to his desk, sitting down.
“Where did you meet this woman?”
He barely conceals his disgust as he speaks. He looks at me with anger. I can see it on his face, though I’m not sure Cherry registers it. He wanted her, but he’s out of fucking luck.
“I’m a waitress, actually,” she says, leaning forward in her seat. My girl. My good little girl. She’s rising to the occasion and doing beautifully. I can feel her instinct kicking in. She’s coming alive. She’s going along with it. “We met when he was sitting for a game of blackjack at my casino. He ordered his favorite drink and gave me a big tip. I thought he was someone I should talk to.”
“So you liked him for his money?” My uncle asks as he laughs. “I should warn you that he doesn’t have as much as you think. I have more. You want a real man, you come to me.”
“You trying to steal my woman?” I joke, but his steely cool gaze is still trained on her.
“I just thought it was intriguing,” she clarifies. “I thought he must really want to talk to me if he was giving me a tip like that for one drink. Plus, he won four hands in a row. He split Aces. I mean...it was impressive.”
She’s hamming it up for him. I know she isn’t mine for real, but my cock stirs at the way she’s teasing my uncle right in front of me.
“And we just hit it off from there,” I say, reaching over to take her hand.
My uncle rises from his chair and shoots daggers into my eyes. My stomach churns into a knot. I just pray that whatever he’s about to do doesn’t include calling my bluff.
This is a delicate dance. It’s a match of wills. Brawn can be left for another day. Right now it’s just me and my uncle fighting over this girl neither of us really fucking know.
Cherry
I stand up and nearly tip over. My heels dig into the carpeting on the floor of the office and I turn around to make my way over to the door.
If I end up with a bullet in the back of my head, would I realize it before I die? There’s no point in being scared. If I die, it won’t matter. I won’t know that I’m dead.
No one will miss me. My father is the only person who ever gives a shit about me, and he’s on the way out.
I don’t know if I’ll make it. And worse, if I don’t make it, no one will care or even notice.
I feel Sean’s uncle come up next to me. His hand comes up to my face and takes my chin in his hand, in his fingers. Two fingers lead my chin around so my eyes are looking right into his. I’m about as tall as he is while I’m wearing my heels, the one some anonymous voice on the phone told me to wear
if I wanted to please the man I’d be meeting.
“Cherry red,” he says calmly, but with fire behind his eyes. “My nephew has chosen someone quite beautiful.”
He lets go of me with a lurch, nearly throwing my body away. I pull my lips into a tight line, because I know I have to seem happy to be here. I’m being introduced to my fiance’s boss.
Beads of sweat erupt on the back of my neck as Sean’s uncle moves away from me. I step forward and the doors open, and time is moving in slow motion again.
They say that time slows down when you feel threatened. I move through the hotel suite. I don’t know what is happening. Am I being sold to Sean? To his uncle? When I agreed to get down on my knees for the winner in the casino, I had control. Now? I have no control. I can’t help myself. I don’t know what I’m doing now.
“Just follow me,” Sean says as he ushers me down the hall as we pass through the final door away from the suite, away from his two cousins. Sean takes me by the arm above my elbow and rushes me down the hallway. I’m light on my feet because I have to be. I couldn’t keep up with him if I put my feet on the ground and walked for myself. If I put one foot in front of the other and walked for myself, I’d just be swept up again in his rush, in this skin. In the adrenaline that seeps through every single one of his pores.
We stop down the hall and he takes a keycard out of his back pocket, motioning it over the lock on the door and pushing us inside. He grinds to a halt as I stumble into the room and collapse onto one of the beds.
I can’t feel my body. My hands, my feet - I feel nothing. My body is a vessel for my own fucked up thoughts.
There’s two beds in the room, and Sean walks past it and looks out the window, his arms crossed against his chest.
“You should get yourself cleaned up,” he says, unmoving. His voice enraptures me, and I want to do what he says - not just because the way he says it is convincing, but because I want to get cleaned up. All I want is to get out of these clothes and get into bed. I want to be in my own bed, and I want to close my eyes, and I want this all to end. I want this day to end.
But I know that if today ends, tomorrow will be just as bad.
“You should really get cleaned up,” Sean says again. “If you want this to work, you have to trust me.”
“Trust you?” I ask in a small voice, though I feel my blood boiling in my veins. “What am I trusting you to do? What the hell was that?”
He turns around and crosses the room to me. He takes me in his arms and looks down at me.
I can’t help myself. His body is perfect, and I allow myself to indulge in looking at him. His fingers wrap around my arms and he holds me at a distance, but firmly. Heat arrows between my legs as his fingers dig into me.
“I told you you had a choice, Cherry. You can trust me or you can take your chances with those fucking people. And you chose to trust me.”
His piercing blue eyes stare down at me, his scent intoxicating me. His muscles flex and grind against his t-shirt. He lets me go and crosses the room again, tossing his jacket onto one of the beds.
“And now what?” I ask desperately, tears pricking at the corners of my eyes. “Are you going to fuck me? Is that how this works?”
I walk over to him. I’m weak. I can’t feel myself inside my head, inside my body. It’s still me - I know it’s still me. But it feels as though I’m animated by some outside force, and it’s not because he is so sexy. It’s because I don’t know what the hell I’m supposed to do.
He catches me as I press my body into his. I’m small, but my body feels heavy.
“If you’re going to fuck me, just get it over with.”
“I’m not going to fuck you, Cherry.” He chuckles and sits down on the bed, putting his elbows on his knees and scrubbing his face with his hands.
I swallow hard. I know this man has done some very bad things. I’m not stupid. I can see the outline of the gun on his hip.
“If you’re going to kill me, please just make it fast,” I tremble.
He doesn’t look at me. He just speaks simply, without emotion.
“You’re confused. You need to rest. Go take a shower.”
I stumble backwards away from him, my mind a blur of want and confusion. The way he said no to me makes me feel hot all over, embarrassed, humiliated. I say nothing as I make my way over to the bathroom and shut the door behind me. I turn to look in the mirror.
God, I look like shit. I start to strip my clothes off, peeling my tight leather pants away from my body and then unhooking each of the hooks in the back of my corset. I take my hair down and allow my red waves to flow over my shoulders. I’m standing in front of the mirror in just my black lace thong and the push-up bra I chose for him, before I knew who he was. Before I knew what would happen. Before I knew what his name was.
I take a towel from the bar hanging on the back of the door and wrap myself up in it, and then take off my bra and panties. I don’t want to see myself naked. I already feel naked enough. Going over to the shower, I realize that I can feel the cold tile under my feet, and it feels good. It feels so good to be out of those shoes. I could sleep for days.
I reach into the shower and turn on the hot water. I adjust the cool water so the shower of water pellets falling down hard into the glass encasement aren’t scalding, and I step into the glass, vertical tomb.
His name is Sean. I don’t know if I’ve been captured or rescued, but it doesn’t matter. I squeeze some body wash into my hand and lather it over my body. The scent is calming for a moment. I think back to my ex, to the night when he swept me out of the bar where we met. He put me in the shower before anything happened between us. He wanted to wash away the night; he wanted to wash away me from myself. Make me forget. The truth is that I don't know if I could ever remember.
The hot water pelts down on me like a million tiny drumsticks, and I let the steam fill my lungs. I expect Sean to come in, but he doesn’t. I finish showering after lathering my hair with the nice products they have here in the hotel. I don’t know if I’ve ever been in a hotel this nice before, and I don’t think I’ll ever be in one this nice again.
Wrapping myself up, I dry off before putting my clothing back on. I can’t let Sean see me in a towel or a bathrobe.
When I step out of the bathroom, the steam billows out around me. My long curly hair is still wet, but I rub a towel against it gently, squeezing out the excess water.
Sean’s sitting at the desk, scrolling through his phone intently. He doesn’t look over at me as I perch on the corner of the bed nearest the door.
“We have to get a few things straight,” he says, not looking up at me. “My uncle is expecting me at a party tonight. We’re hosting a few people from Jersey. You need to stay here.”
I swallow hard and look up at him, feeling the blood inside my veins coursing through my body. I feel my blood pumping life into me, heating me from the inside. When Sean looks up and we lock eyes, I become warm all over.
“Why are these men in from New Jersey?”
“That’s another thing you need to understand. Don’t go around asking a lot of questions. You don’t know shit if anyone asks. You’re here as my woman. That’s it.”
He stands and approaches me, keeping his eyes locked on mine. But when he gets to where I’m sitting, he keeps going, walking past me. He opens up the closet and ticks in the combination for the safe hidden inside. From behind, I see him tuck a gun into a holster on his hip and slam the safe door shut.
“Do I get a gun of my own?” I ask, feeling my face go white. “To protect myself?”
“Baby,” he says, flashing a look at me over his shoulder, “that won’t be necessary. You’re with me. No one is going to fuck with you. I’ll protect you.”
Sean
I’ve seen it rain bullets. I’ve seen the sky open up and swallow the earth whole. I’ve seen ditches and graves and pretty things in just their panties swaying their asses in front of my face. I’ve held the end of a chrome p
iece to enough skulls and slipped crisp, fresh hundred dollar bills into enough g-strings for a lifetime, and I’ve gotten hard at all of it. I don’t like doing some of it, but if it’s the choice between throwing a piece of shit who doesn’t deserve to live to the wolves and letting him wreak havoc, then it really isn’t a choice at all.
I’m not the chaos maker. I’m the one who evens the score. I settle the books, I make things whole. I keep the scales even.
Is it justice? It doesn’t fucking matter. All I know is that when you owe, you pay. You settle up and make things even.
What I don’t fucking like is when families get involved. And a poor chump who owes forty thousand dollars because of some fucked up addiction isn’t worth my time. It isn’t worth my family’s time. That’s what I’ve been trying to get through my uncle’s skull since I started.
Getting involved with this chump shit, lending cash to civilians? Not my choice. But now I do have a fucking say, and I’m not going to let my voice go unheard.
She’s obstinate. She doesn’t want to cooperate with me. Given the choice between fucking her and killing her, I know what I’d do. And she’d like it. She’d lick up every drop of my cum before I even touched her, and she’d be soaked from it, too.
No one’s going to fuck with her. I have my eyes set on her pink lips as I unload a clip from my piece and hook another onto my holster. I see the chrome flash in her irises. If I had my with her, she’s going to be seeing stars and getting down on her knees to beg me.
“You stay here. Don’t open the door. Don’t answer the phone. Don’t talk to anyone.” I push my way past her. My cock is like a fucking rocket. I should say fuck the meeting and stay here with her back against the wall and her legs wrapped around my waist as I pummel her tight pussy with my cock.
I don’t look back as I push my way out of my room, leaving her behind. I don’t give her a key. I don’t have an extra, so I couldn’t give her one even if I wanted to. No one comes into my room or leaves without me. I’ve never left anyone alone in there before, but it’s where she needs to be if I want to keep her safe.
