by Box Set
“Like hell is she innocent.” Charlie points a leveled finger at me. “Why would you have a bonita girl like that and not have her?”
Silence dominates us, though I can almost hear Charlie's thoughts running through his mind.
“I have my reasons. Why don't you go and get yourself a proper drink, My Little Pet?” Maksim ushers me to leave. He half smiles too, as if pleased with me. “Charlie and I have some business to discuss.”
“Yeah, you bet we do.”
On autopilot, feeling a little more like myself with Maksim's order filtering through my system, I nod and walk past them, eyes down, heading for the kitchen. I could do with a cold, stiff drink. It's been a crazy day.
The hallway is aglow with soft blue lights shining up the white walls. Walls that boast pictures of every boxer to have ever won a world title.
Charlie is a seriously good fighter. I wonder who taught him.
I need to find out exactly who he is. Knowing he's a syndicate leader isn't enough. I don't trust him or his intensions—nor his effort to bend me to his will with that damn kiss for that matter.
Though, it was a nice kiss.
I'll not tell Maksim that. Charlie's bloody nose tells him all he needs to know, that I fought. I fought against him for touching me.
Perhaps that's why he was so relaxed about catching Charlie and I in a compromising position. He thinks I resisted.
In the kitchen, where it is still heaving in naked women, that guy says nothing to me. He moves out of the way and lets me walk through the cooking space.
I pull out my hair tie and my long, fuzzy mane falls down my back. Then I grab a beer out of the fridge, crack open the lid, and guzzle down a healthy mouthful, ignoring the music and the people around me. The bitter liquid is refreshing. I sigh, resting back against the counter top. The bottle is so cold that droplets of water gather under my palm. I press the bottle to my cheek, feeling hot.
I still cannot believe Charlie just kissed me. No one has ever kissed me like that before. Maksim is cruel when romantic—if I can call what he does to me romantic—but it's all I know. Though now, I have this. Whatever this is.
Over an hour passes before Maksim and Charlie enter the kitchen. I'm still standing by the fridge, looking as though barely a minute has passed.
“I guess I will see you in a week or so, Charlie,” Maksim says with obvious irritation, making his way outside without looking at me.
I frown. Why isn't he coming to speak to me? He usually says goodnight at least.
“Out!” Charlie barks with a thumb, and everyone, I mean everyone, leaves through the back doors.
I aim to leave too, but Charlie stops in front of me and says, “Not you, Señorita.”
I rest back against the countertop in resistance.
“The eleven minutes will work.” He takes the beer out of my hand and pours the rest down his throat. “You all right, Blaire?”
Arching my neck back, I scowl at him, noticing he's cleaned up his face of blood. “Of course I'm all right. What's Maksim doing?” I grab the edges of the kitchen countertop because Charlie virtually puts himself between my legs. “What are you doing?”
With the back of his finger, he wipes my upper lip and shows me his blood is still on my mouth. Again, much to my frustration, I don't even think about hitting him for touching me. I simply get rid of the blood on my mouth by using the cold, leather sleeve of my jacket.
“Maksim's joining the party,” Charlie says softly, his blue eyes glued to my face. “We've come to a deal.”
“A deal?” I whisper in mystification. Maksim hasn't told me of any deal. He usually tells me everything. “A deal about what?”
Charlie smiles lazily at me. I glower with confusion. His mood is different than before when we were in the living room. He seems very...I can't be sure. Satisfied, maybe?
“Your hair's longer than I thought it was.” His eyes glance over my appearance. He reaches out for a strand of my hair and runs his fingers down it, making my scalp tickle. “It looks nice down.”
Ignoring his inane compliment and these weird vibes he's got going on, I ask, “What deal have you come to, Charlie?”
Still fondling with my hair, he stares at my mouth in total silence. My heart is suddenly pounding. I don't like that look on his face, that dark, I won, look.
“Maksim's got a hefty debt with me. He's been trying to pay it back but I don't want money. I've got enough of that.”
“Oh'kay.” I blink at him a few times. “Well, what do you want then?”
Charlie stares up at my eyes now, gazing with wicked intent, while curling that lock of hair around his finger. “You.”
I go cold on the spot.
“And as he knows better than to refuse me, you're now mine for three months—or until I get bored.” He's still speaking, still playing with my hair, but I'm not really listening.
I'm not sure how long I stand there gawping at him, until I yell, “What?!” I shove Charlie's chest, hard enough to knock him back a step and let go of my hair. “I'm not going anywhere with you. What fucking debt are you talking about?”
I know Maksim can probably hear me shouting but right now, I don't care.
“Charlie, what debt?!”
Putting the beer bottle on the side, he leans back against the fridge and crosses his arms. “We did a job together a few years back and unforeseen circumstances meant I wasn't able to collect. While I was away, Maksim spent the money without my permission, so now, I'm collecting.”
Steam blows out of my ears.
“Not through me you're not,” I hiss, my face tense with anger. “I'm going to speak with Maksim. He wouldn't barter me to pay off some debt.”
“You're not allowed to speak to him,” Charlie says in a chilled, unfazed manner. “That is part of our deal.”
“Huh?” My face scrunches up. “You can't decide that.”
Throwing his head back, he bursts out laughing.
My eyes widen with insult. “What the hell are you laughing at?”
“Do you know how confusing you are?” he asks once he's done laughing, wiping his watery eyes with one hand. “One minute I think you're so deeply conditioned to Maksim that there's no getting through to you. Then you're rebellious with your cocky attitude. But then you're thawing in my arms as I kiss you.”
A hot flush comes over me at the memory.
“Now, you have a chance to come with me and get away from this life for a while—if you can call this a life,” he casts a hand around the place, “but you don't want to leave?”
I don't know what to say right now, so I just look at him.
“What ties you to Maksim?” His thinning eyes search my face, glittering in curiosity. “Tell me, I'm dying to know. I'm almost sure it's not just fear.” He sounds like he's taunting me, goading me into losing my cool, and I am. My blood is boiling.
“You can shout your reasons at me if you want, Blaire.” His eyebrows flick up with daring. “No one will stop you.”
“If my reasons for staying with Maksim need explaining, you're denser than I thought.” I twist my lips, struggling to contain the bubbling explosion going off inside me. Why would I want to leave Maksim when he's all I know? Why's that so hard to understand?
“As for this life,” I say, pointing at the floor between us, “it's mine, and I like it just the way it is.” I head for the back doors with my hands fisted at my sides, certain he's talking bullshit. Maksim wouldn't barter me. He wouldn't.
“Not so fast.” Charlie's large hand wraps around my upper arm and forces me to an abrupt stop.
“I'm not fucking doing this with you again!” I yank back and forth. “Let me—aargh!” Something sharp stabs me in the side of my shoulder and a cold, dopey feeling rushes through my veins.
Within seconds, my brain goes fuzzy and I fall back in Charlie's arms, my legs buckling under me.
“Wha...what have you done to me?” I say breathlessly, trying to grab my shoulder but my hand
s are all floppy.
“Shhh. S'all right, Blaire,” he whispers in my ear from behind, stroking my hair back out of my face. “You're gonna be all right.”
The world as I know it goes dark.
9
“Take off your clothes, Blaire, or I will,” Charlie says in a deceptively soft voice.
He's staring at me from across the shadowy bedroom, around fifteen feet away. It's almost too dark to see him, but I can. His tall, powerfully broad frame is blocking my way to the door. He's standing there prepared for combat, with his legs slightly spread open. He thinks I'll try to fight him, and he's right to assume that because I will. He just reiterated the ‘deal’ he made with my master, how I’m supposedly his for three months or until he gets bored. I don’t know if I believe him. He said that after he stabbed me with a needle, knocking me out, Maksim apparently had one of his men bring me here—wherever here is—so he knows where I am. He refused Charlie’s request to bring me himself. That’s my silver lining. It tells me my master still cares, or that this could possibly be a lie.
I hope it’s a lie.
“Go on,” Charlie says, and comes toward me, his heavy feet thudding against the wooden floors.
Swaying on my feet, I clutch the bedpost with one hand. I try to gain focus so I can battle, but I'm still groggy from whatever he gave me.
When he reaches me, he tries to get me out of my leather jacket by pushing his fingers in the shoulders. I weakly grab his wrists, but he twists out of my grasp and pins my hands at my sides, making me groan in a mixture of fear, anger, and self-pity.
“Just relax,” he says, his breath warming my face, and I can feel his silky hair tickling my cheek where he’s let out his ponytail. “You must feel light headed.”
Resisting the urge to scream at him, I let my head roll to the side so I can hide in my hair. “What did you give me?” I ask, staring into the darkness.
“Just a little something to put you down so you couldn't resist,” he whispers. “But don’t worry, it'll wear off.”
When his hands over mine loosen, I slip out of his grasp and slam my fists into his chest, knocking him back a few steps. I breathlessly bump into the bedpost on my shoulder. I'm not at full strength, and my head is so cloudy that I can't think straight. The last twenty-four hours are like looking into a black hole.
I strive to focus my mind, desperate to figure out what’s really happening, and what is the truth.
I remember telling Maksim that I cannot get his fifteen minutes. I remember Charlie kissing me. I remember talking to Charlie in the kitchen and briefly waking up in the back of Maksim's SUV—I know it was Maksim's SUV because I could smell his brut scent. It was dark, and the road we were driving along was bumpy. I could still taste Charlie's blood in my mouth from when he kissed me.
My eyes widen at the realization. He is telling the truth.
“No,” I breathe out, a lump forming in my throat.
“Blaire?” Charlie hunches down to look at my face hidden behind my hair. “What's wrong? Do you feel ill?”
In a moment of madness, to save my ass from whatever he has planned, I reach for my gun in my inside jacket pocket. I fumble to grip the cold, metal handle, and pull it out. Though it's heavy, I'm sure not to drop it, holding it with both hands. I lift it high enough to aim at Charlie's head, as he stands upright with mute shock.
“Where the fuck are we?” I say, clicking back the hammer while blinking rapidly to clear the fog.
He points a long finger at me, warning, “Put that down.”
“You didn't anticipate I'd have this, did you?” My voice is the wrong side of confident, but I'm not confident. “Didn't you think to pat me down?”
His nostrils flare in the shadows.
“Where the fuck are we?!” I scream, tearing my throat to shreds.
He doesn't say anything, so we watch each other for a moment, the atmosphere thick with tension. I'm not sure who is the prey. Inside, I feel it's me. I'm shitting myself.
Charlie walks into the barrel of my gun, hunches down, and presses it to his forehead. “Do it,” he hisses through clenched teeth. “Or give me the gun, Blaire.”
My face crumples with defeat and anxiety. I cannot actually shoot him. I'm just trying to scare him. I don't really know who he is yet, or how important he is to others. I cannot be sure people won't come looking for him if he goes missing, and I cannot risk the blame landing on Maksim, even if he has betrayed me.
I hold Charlie's unnatural blue gaze. He's not at all afraid. I am, because I’m certain he's going to abuse me for the next few months. Maksim clearly cannot stop him. He took me from my master’s house and doesn't seem to have a scratch on him.
“Go on, Señorita,” he says more gently this time. “Shoot me.”
“If I don't, you're going to do terrible things to me.”
He nods, making the gun move in my grasp. “You're right. I am.” There's something icy in his voice, like vengeance. He wraps his long fingers around the gun to hold it in place on his head. “Do it!” he yells, making me squeak and jump in my skin. “Fucking do it if you want to do it!”
Exhaling shakily, I let go of the gun. He throws it over by the door. It lands with a heavy bump that makes me flinch. He then grabs me around my arms, imprisoning me with all his strength. I stiffen in his hold, panting heavily, trying to gather my wits.
He doesn't do anything right away. He's just holding me in place, looking down at me.
“I need to speak to Maksim,” I say, lifting my eyes to his.
Charlie quietly scans my face, his expression unreadable. Or to me his expression is unreadable. I'm so dizzy.
“I need to ask him something. I-I need to speak to him!” I yell in Charlie's face. It makes me dizzier.
“What for?” he says. “Permission?”
I nod in a floppy state. He's right. I do need permission. I can't do this—whatever this is—without Maksim's full permission.
“Are you gonna let me take off your jacket?”
Give and take, is that what this is all about?
I can let him take off my jacket if it means I can talk to Maksim. I need to talk to Maksim!
I nod again in a weak manner, as his hands draw down my arms, and he pulls off my jacket. Leaning past me, he lays it over the foot of the bed, then steps back.
He's quiet again. I can't fucking stand it. His silence seems to magnify his presence.
“Can I speak to Maksim?” I say, wavering under that powerful stare of his. “Please, Charlie?”
More silence.
I try to convince myself that I can see pity in Charlie's eyes as he studies me, but it's a lie my mind has conjured up. This man doesn't pity me at all.
“Charlie?” I snap, balling my hands.
He pulls a phone out of his jeans back pocket, dials someone, and passes it to me. With a rickety hand, I take it and put it to my ear.
“What's the problem, my friend?” Maksim's husky Russian voice almost breaks me. “Having trouble taming—”
“Cэp Maksim,” I whisper, cutting him off, squeezing the phone in my grasp.
“My Little Pet, are you okay?” He sounds worried. “What's happened? Please do not tell me you have done something to Charlie Decena?”
“No. He...he's here.” I glance up at Charlie, who is watching me intently, then I turn my back on him, holding the bedpost with one hand so I don't topple over. “Cэp Maksim, what...what am I doing here with Charlie?”
“Did he not tell you?”
“Yes,” I say with hesitation. “He...he says—”
“You are to fulfill Charlie's needs without ruining your virtue, complete the job when he needs you to shut down London's CCTV system—and only that job—and return home to me alive and well in no more than three months’ time.” Every word he says is like punching me in the chest. “Is that clear?”
“You want me to...” I blink into oblivion, swallowing past the lump in my throat. “He's allowed to touch me?�
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“Yes, My Little Pet.” There's a long pause, before he elaborates, “He can do whatever he likes to you as long as he doesn't take your virginity or kill you. Also, he doesn't want you to respect him as you do me. He wants you to decide for yourself, for whatever good it will do.”
I cup my face in one hand. My head is hurting. “I'm so confused.”
“Don't be confused, My Little Pet. Do not fight him. Just do your job and come home to me.”
His words echo while my world narrows. He can do whatever he likes to you as long as he doesn't take your virginity or kill you.
Charlie was telling the truth. Maksim has bartered me!
“No. No—please, I'm sorry,” I squeeze out every word, gripping the phone so tight my fingers ache. “I'm sorry if I've been bad the past few years. I'm sorry for...maybe if I come back and live with you at the house, it will help? I'll be good. I swear!”
There's nothing but silence.
“Cэp Maksim? Cэp Maksim, are you there?”
I check the screen, trembling so hard I almost drop the phone. It's dark. He's hung up the call.
“No...” The ability to breathe abandons me. I try to call him back, to beg for my life, but Charlie takes the phone from me. “No!” I scream, attempting to snatch it out of his grasp but he pins me to the bedpost with one arm over my chest. “Let me go!” I grip his wrist with both hands, trying to pry him off but his body is too powerful. “I’m not finished talking to him!”
“You are.” He shoves his phone in his jeans back pocket. “He just told you what you have to do.”
“No. He-he didn't clarify.” I'm shaking out of control now, and Charlie is so close that I can smell the clean, sweet-musky scent of his skin. I wish he'd back the fuck up so I can think.
“Why didn't he tell me this in person at his house? Why did you have to drug me? I-I would have come willingly if Maksim told me to. I would have.”
“I don't want you having anything to do with him until I'm done with you. That's why he didn't tell you himself.”
“But, that doesn't make any sense.” I shake my head to get rid of this vertigo. “You just let me talk to him, and if...if you let him give me my orders, you wouldn't have had to drug me.”
