Chapter Fourteen
Bruno
Once I start kissing Olivia, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to stop. Her body is soft and warm from sleep and fits neatly in my arms. The taste of her lips drives me crazy. I want more of her. So much more. I want to taste every inch of her skin. I want to lay her on her back and plunge inside of her. I want to feel her writhing with pleasure beneath me. I want to hear her say my name again. Bruno.
But I’m not supposed to touch her. This isn’t about sex. It’s business. And even though she’s clutching at my back and kissing me willingly, does she really want it? Has being locked up in this room driven her crazy? Maybe she’s trying to manipulate me so I’ll let her go.
My cock throbs angrily. I’m so hard, I can feel the skin stretching over my shaft. I can already feel the wet, warm relief between her legs. But if I take her now, it won’t be the last time. I’ll want her again and again, for as long as she’s here. Once I take a bite, I won’t be able to stop myself from devouring her, body and soul.
The first time her phone chimes, I ignore it, and keep exploring her mouth with my tongue, running my hands over her soft flesh. When Olivia moans against my mouth, I get even harder. I can make you moan louder than that, I think.
Her phone chimes again. There’s a moment of silence, then it chimes three times in quick succession. Who the fuck is that? I think. I want to keep kissing her, to go deeper inside of her, but those texts worry me. What if someone’s suspicious?
I growl with regret when I pull away from Olivia. My cock is so hard my balls are getting sore. But it’s for the best. I shouldn’t do this. It would only complicate an already complicated situation. I’m starting to realize that Olivia isn’t who I thought she was. She’s not like the mafia daughters I’ve encountered in the past. There’s more to her than fake tans, selfies, and beach vacations.
Olivia stares at me in shock. Her eyes are full of disappointment. Her mouth is still open. I trace her bottom lip with my thumb, thinking of sliding my cock over her tongue. I swallow down my lust and stand up from the bed.
“I should see who that is,” I say. I quickly turn and leave the room. When I come back, Olivia’s hugging her knees to her chest with a dazed look on her face. “It’s your mom,” I say, handing her the phone.
Olivia shakes her head, coming back to reality, as she quickly scrolls through the text. “My mom is the worrying type,” she explains. She blinks up at me, and says in a quiet voice, “She wants to know when I’ll be back.”
I look away, considering this. Snake and I are meeting a Lombardi today. Once Vince knows we have his daughter, the trade should happen soon.
“Tell her,” I say, my mouth going dry. “Tell her it will be soon.”
Olivia swallows. “Really?”
I clear my throat, straightening my back. “Tell her you’ll be home soon. Keep it vague.”
Olivia nods obediently. I watch while she texts her mom, then take the phone from her.
“I should get your breakfast,” I say.
*
While making her breakfast, my erection subsides, but the gnawing guilt returns. I snatched Olivia away from her life. I took everything from her and locked her up here. She didn’t deserve any of this, no matter who her father is. It feels strange to serve her breakfast in that tiny room. What’s the harm in having her eat at the dining table, with me?
I go back to her room empty handed. “Your breakfast is ready,” I say from the doorway.
“Okay.” Olivia walks to the small table and sits down, then gives me a questioning look. “Where is it?”
I sweep my arm towards the hallway. “Out here.”
Olivia’s face goes ghost white. Her lower lip starts to tremble. It appears my captive is so used to her routine that even the smallest change freaks her out.
“It’s okay,” I say, stepping into the room. I take her arm and gently pull her up out of her chair. Her back is straight and rigid. “It’s okay,” I say again. Her lips break into a timid smile.
At this hour, the morning sun is shining right on the dining table. Olivia closes her eyes when she sits down, saying “Ahhh,” as she feels the warmth. It makes me feel like a major asshole. She hasn’t seen the sun, not any real sun, since I’ve been keeping her here.
She glances up at me shyly through her lashes, then starts to butter her toast. She looks so beautiful in the sunlight, her dark eyes glittering. Every time she takes a breath, I can see the shape of her body beneath my T-shirt. I can still taste her on my lips. I rub the back of my neck awkwardly.
“So,” I start. “What are you studying in school?”
Olivia is caught off guard. She stares at me, shocked for a second, then looks down at her toast. “Biological anthropology.”
I fold my hands in front of my face. “And what’s that?”
She chews her toast slowly, then swallows. “It’s the study of human behavior from an evolutionary prospective.”
I take a sip of hot coffee. “And what’s the point in that?”
She looks me in the eye, and drops the toast on her plate. Her entire face lights up. “The point? The point is to… to…understand. To explain. To find historical precedent for the instincts we all share.” She waves her hands animatedly as she speaks. The excitement in her glittering eyes makes my stomach tighten with need.
I huff. “What’s there to understand? Humans are assholes. Selfish animals who worked their way to the top of the food chain by being sneaky and underhanded.”
“No, no.” Olivia shakes her head. Her cheeks turn pink as she gets worked up. Shit, I like her like this. She picks up the butter knife and points it at me to emphasize her point. “Behavior is rooted in survival. And not the survival of oneself, but of future generations. There are plenty of parents out there who would willingly give their lives to spare their children. It’s incredibly selfless. It’s how the human race has soldiered on for so long.”
I cross my arms over my chest, cocking my head to the side. “How do you explain parents that betray their children?”
She scrunches her face as she considers this. “I don’t know. I’d need more context.” She sips her apple juice with her brows furrowed. “Are you speaking from experience?”
I shift uncomfortably in my chair, then make a big deal of looking at the clock. “I have to go,” I say. She blinks back at her juice as I stand. “Listen, it’s okay if you…” I look around, grasping for the words. “You don’t have to stay cooped up in the room, as long you don’t leave the apartment.”
Olivia smiles against her cup as she takes a sip. “Okay. Thank you.”
I’m about to leave, when I get paranoid that she could take my newfound lenience as an excuse to try to escape. I lean down, planting my hands on the table. “Don’t try anything, okay?”
She shakes her head profusely. “I won’t.”
I believe her. I could turn and walk away now, and she’d obey my orders. There’s no need to continue, but I can’t stop myself. I reach out and touch her smooth cheek. Her eyes flutter closed.
“This will be over soon, Olivia. I promise.”
She bats her lashes up at me. That look in her eyes stirs something inside of me, and it’s not lust. It’s something else. It looks like she trusts me. I drop my hand from her face and get the fuck out of there. Hopefully, I can make good on my promise.
*
Nick Lombardi, the soldier we’re meeting, texted Snake the meeting place that morning. We hop in Snake’s car and head out that way. It’s going to be a long drive. The location is on the edge of the city. Snake is focused as he drives. He looks a little less stressed now that he’s seen Olivia. I’m sure he’s hoping that this will all be over soon.
What am I hoping? What am I feeling? That was a fucking mistake this morning. And not just the kiss, but the conversation we had over toast and juice. All of it was over a line I never should’ve crossed. This is serious business. I’ve gotten too close to our bargaining chi
p. It could complicate things.
I shouldn’t touch her again, but that’s easier said that done. I can’t get her out of my head, the way she smells, tastes, shit, even the way she thinks. Does she really believe that drivel she was saying today, that parents would sacrifice themselves for future generations? How can she think that when it’s her father’s fault that she’s in the situation that she’s in right now?
“You okay?” Snake asks, snapping me out of my thoughts.
“Yeah, I’m good.”
“How’s the captive?”
“Fine.”
Snake turns on to the highway, then hits the gas harder. “Have you fucked her?”
I look at him like he’s crazy. “No, I haven’t.”
Snake nods. “What a good boy you are, Bruno. Listen, I wouldn’t blame you if you had temptations. But it’s good you haven’t touched her. We don’t want you getting attached.”
I rub my sweaty palms on my thighs. “You don’t have to worry about that.”
“Good.” Snake peers through the windshield. “There’s a lot riding on this, you know.”
“I know,” I say, an edge of impatience in my voice.
“Not just for Anthony’s sake, but yours too. If this goes down how it’s supposed to, Franco said he’d consider opening the books for you.” He reaches over and grabs my shoulder. “You’re going to get made, man.”
“Jesus,” I say. For all of my adult life, I’ve wanted nothing but to be a Mariano soldier. Now that it’s in my grasp, it doesn’t seem that important.
Snake frowns. “I thought you’d be happier.”
“I am happy,” I say, rubbing my face. “I’m just focused. We have to make sure this works.”
“Good man,” Snake says.
*
The car’s GPS leads to an abandoned barn in the middle of an open field. There aren’t any other cars around.
“Do you think they’re here?” I ask Snake.
He nods. “They’re definitely here.”
We push open the old wooden barn door. It’s a huge structure with a dirt floor and a loft up top. The smell hits me right away. It smells like shit.
“Yeah, they’re definitely here,” I quip, sniffing the air. “I can smell them.”
“That’s not a very nice thing to say,” says a low voice.
Nick Lombardi emerges from the shadows at the far end of the barn. I see movement behind him. There’s at least a half a dozen guys waiting in the shadows. Snake and I didn’t come alone either. There’s a car full of Mariano’s behind us, who should be arriving right now. They’ll wait outside in case we need backup.
Nick steps closer to us. Unlike the Mariano’s, the Lombardi’s don’t enforce a dress code. Nick doesn’t wear a suit, but is dressed for business in black slacks and a red, button down shirt. He’s as tall as I am, though not as bulked up. His Italian heritage is all over his face, and in his jet black hair. This fucker could’ve just gotten off the boat. I’ve not dealt with this guy much, but I’ve heard a lot about him. He’s a bad motherfucker, and ruthlessly loyal to his family. From the stories I’ve heard, he’s knife happy, and probably the one who sliced off Anthony’s finger.
“You ready to talk?” Nick asks.
Snake grits his teeth. “Not about the list of insane demands your boss sent over.”
Nick shrugs. “I thought the boss was being quite generous, but you don’t see things that way, so that’s fair. I have to warn you though, some of the guys have been eager to cut on Anthony a little more.” Nick glances down at his crotch. “And this time, his wife won’t be getting a finger.”
My fists tighten at my sides. How I’d love to knock this fucker on his ass. Snake keeps his cool. He gives Nick a one-sided smile while reaching inside of his suit.
“I have something your boss will be interested in,” Snake says, pulling out Olivia’s file. “Maybe we can organize a trade.”
Nick laughs. “What could you possibly have that we’d want?” He steps forward, yanks the file from Snake’s hand, and flips through it.
“That’s Vince’s daughter,” Snake says. “Olivia Presley.”
While Nick peruses the file, Snake pulls up Olivia’s picture on his phone. “That’s her, just the other day. She’s enjoying a nice a stay with the beast here,” Snake says, gesturing to me.
Nick looks at the picture, then looks at me, raising an eyebrow. “I bet. How do you know that’s her?”
“It’s her,” Snake says. “We had it verified.”
I wonder if Snake is bluffing. I hadn’t fully shaken the suspicion that Sal could be fucking with me. Olivia’s not who I thought she was at all. And why wouldn’t Nick recognize her? Hasn’t he ever seen Vince’s daughter? Maybe Olivia’s been kept far, far away from her father’s professional life. That would explain a lot. She’s not close to Vince. I see all of her text conversations. She never talks to him.
Snake points at Nick. “A clean trade, Lombardi. That’s what we’re proposing. No more slicing appendages off of our man, and we’ll treat Olivia with the same respect.”
Nick nods dully, turns back to the picture, whistling. “Man, I wouldn’t mind having her tied up at my house.”
My muscles tense. What’s that supposed to mean, motherfucker? She’s mine.
“Okay,” Nick says. “We can agree not to chop Anthony’s dick off, for now. I’ll run this by the boss.” He turns and walks back into the shadows. “We’ll be in touch.”
On the drive back, I feel agitated. I’ve been around enough evil motherfuckers to know one when I see them, and Nick is definitely one. All of the Lombardi’s are, Vince especially. It doesn’t feel right to give Olivia up to them, even if she is their blood. It doesn’t fit. She’s smart, ambitious, and beautiful. How could she be one of them?
It doesn’t matter. I have to let her go. We need Anthony back. His wife needs him. And I need to finally be made so I can stop looking over my shoulder, wondering when the Mariano’s will turn on me. I’m in too deep with them to simply run away.
Whatever fucking feelings Olivia has brought up in me will have to squashed. But that doesn’t mean that I can’t enjoy her, fully enjoy her, while I have her in my grasp.
Chapter Fifteen
Olivia
I don’t know what to do with myself while Bruno’s away. It was easy when he’d locked me in that room. I didn’t have any choice but to lie in bed, or curl up in the corner with my knees drawn into my chest. Walking around the apartment, it feels like I’m intruding on his space. This apartment is sparsely furnished. The cabinets are stocked with glasses and dishes. The living room has a couch, two chairs, and a flat screen TV. Either Bruno’s a minimalist, or he doesn’t expect to stay here long. There are no pictures of Bruno or his family anywhere. The only thing that gives me a clue about Bruno’s personality is a box full of vintage magazines. I peek inside, expecting to see porn, but it’s only old editions of Motor Trend magazine. I dig into the stack and find a copy from September 1949, presumably the first edition that was published.
Bruno’s gone for a long time, for hours. Around noon, I find my own lunch, a grilled cheese made on his stove. While cooking in his kitchen, I entertain delusions that this is a normal situation. He’s my boyfriend. We live together. I’m here of my own free will. After I finish eating, I clean up, and put everything back just the way it was.
Afternoon gives way to dusk. I’m tired of pacing around the apartment, so I go back to my room and wait. When I hear the front door open, I sit up straight, gripping the sheets with excitement. He’s home. Maybe he’ll kiss me again.
The floorboards creak as Bruno walks down the hallway, then peeks inside the bedroom. I’m relieved to see that he’s not bruised and bloody.
“You don’t have to stay in here,” he says.
“I know.”
“You could’ve stayed out here, watched TV.”
“I know,” I repeat. I could’ve done that. I could’ve seen what’s happening on t
he news, in the outside world. Why didn’t I? I was content with waiting for him.
I grip the edge of the mattress. I want him to come in here, sit next to me, and feel his mouth against mine again. I want him to wrap his arms around me and hold me tightly again. I want it with every cell in my body.
Bruno jerks his head towards the hallway. “Come out here. I have something for you.”
He turns and walks down the hallway. I follow, fiddling with the hem of his shirt. In the kitchen, there’s a big Old Navy bag on the counter. Bruno takes out the clothes and shows them to me.
“I thought you might be tired of wearing my T-shirts,” Bruno says. His lips curl into a smile, a real smile, a shy smile. This feels so normal.
“Thank you,” I say, running my hands over a pair of jeans. It would be nice to wear pants again. There’s a half dozen blouses, the jeans, a pair of khakis, and some leggings, and a hand full of underwear.
“There’s something else,” Bruno says, his cheeks flushing slightly. He picks up a bag I didn’t notice. It says, LA Book Collector.
“What’s this?” I say, while he hands me the bag. I reach inside, and clutch the thick volume in my hands.
Genetics and the Origin of Species, by Theodosius Dobzhansky. I clutch it to my chest, breathing in the familiar scent. It’s an old book. I flip through the thin pages to the copyright page, then gasp with surprise.
“This is a first edition,” I say. “Incredible.” I flip to the first chapter and skim over the words. “How did you know to get me this?”
Bruno slings his head down. “I remember, from one of your texts, you mentioned him.”
He remembered, I think. Thumbing through the pages comforts me. That warm feeling, coupled with Bruno’s promise that I’ll be getting out of here soon, fills me with immense joy. I dash to him, stand on my tiptoes, and throw my arms around his neck.
“Thank you,” I whisper, then softly kiss his cheek. “Bruno.”
Beware the Beast (Mafia Soldiers Book 2) Page 8
