by Amy Starling
“I told you already that I had feelings for you.”
Oh crap.
“But... But we can't be together,” I stammered like an idiot. “I mean, I shouldn't have even slept with you.”
He raised a hand to silence me. “That's not the only reason. See, my mother died when I was a boy. She was assaulted and murdered right in front of me by some men from a rival gang.”
My stomach twisted imagining the horrors Alec must have lived through. I wanted to comfort him, but how? There were no words that could take away such pain.
“My God, that's horrible. I'm so sorry.”
“It was a few days before Christmas,” he recalled, his lip trembling. “She had taken me with her to go shopping for gifts. We'd almost reached the car when three guys stepped out of the alley. Thought they'd teach my father a lesson for what he'd done to them.”
Talking about this obviously hurt him greatly, but he kept on, going faster and faster as if desperate to get the words out.
“I was only eight years old. They did horrible things to her, but I couldn't stop them. I knew if I didn't hide, I would be next. So I ran.”
The room was silent except for his breathing, which grew steadily harder like he was about to knock somebody out.
“I let everybody down,” he growled. “I didn't protect my mom, and I got away without a scratch. It felt as if everyone in the family blamed me for her death.”
“That can't be true. You were only a kid. If you hadn't fled, you probably wouldn't be here today.”
His face was bright red. He got up and kicked the dresser so hard I thought it'd splinter from the impact.
“I couldn't do a thing back then, but I sure as hell can now.” His searing gaze landed on me. “So you want to know why I'm doing this for you? Now you know.”
I reached for him, unable to offer anything useful except a hug. When I put my hands on him, though, he jerked away.
“I'm a grown man, Ceci. I don't need your pity.”
“Pity?” I gaped at him. “That's not what this is about.”
“What is it, then?”
I didn't have an answer. How could I bring myself to admit it – maybe this mobster wasn't as much a monster as I first thought.
Maybe beneath his rough, damaged exterior, there was a man inside who needed to be loved.
But how could I be the one to love him? The question felt like a knife in my chest.
“Anyway, you wanted an answer, so now you know.” He turned on his heel. “If you like this bedroom so much, you're welcome to have it. I want you to be somewhat comfortable for your stay here – but be warned, if you attempt anything funny, I'll put you right back in the basement.”
With that, he left me there, almost as if the conversation never happened. A moment later, there was the clatter of dishes in the kitchen as he started to prepare lunch.
All that I could do was unpack the things he'd brought me. I plugged in the laptop, turned it on, and basked in the familiar glow of its screen. Then I put my clothes in the dresser, sandals and house slippers by the door.
He thought to bring me slippers.
No man had ever treated me so kindly before. If he was trying to make me fall for him, he was doing a good job of it.
“It's just Stockholm syndrome,” I mumbled as I dumped my textbooks onto the bed. “That's all. The prisoner having a crush on her captor. Not normal in the least.”
I stared out the barred window at the forest around us. Given what Alec just told me about his mom, how was I supposed to treat him now?
I wasn't sure, but the desire to learn more about him was irresistible. What made him the man he became today? That curiosity wouldn't be sated until I found out.
And mom, wow. What the hell was she thinking, messing around on dad with a gangster? Alec surmised maybe she didn't know he was in the mob. That could be true; she always had been something of an airhead.
But if someone really did come to get me, would I go with them willingly?
The laptop made a beeping noise, shaking me out of all these strange and unsettling thoughts. I jumped, startled, and put my hands to the keyboard.
“Oh yeah. The internet. If it works...”
But of course, the browser wouldn't load any pages and the network icon said there was no signal to be had anywhere nearby. That wasn't to say Alec didn't have satellite internet or something. Maybe he had a way to block it from me.
Downstairs, he cursed angrily, followed by the sound of stuff being knocked over.
“Shit! Son of a bitch.”
A sane woman would have kept her nose down and stayed out of his problems. I padded down the steps, fearing the worst.
He stood before the stove, clutching his hand, with little droplets of red falling slowly to the floor.
“You cut yourself?” I jogged over to him. “Let me see.”
He whipped his head and glared. “I'm fine.”
Startled, I skidded to a stop. He didn't move, only muttered under his breath. The fish he'd thrown in the frying pan was starting to burn.
He could be a jerk all he liked – but even jerks needed medical attention sometimes, and his outburst wasn't going to stop me.
I ignored his protests and joined him by the stove. When I reached for his hand, he yanked it away.
“What's the matter with you? I want to help.”
“I don't need help. Not from you. Or anyone.”
He wrapped a paper towel around his bloody finger and went back to tending the fish with his good hand.
Something had changed about him. His voice cracked when he spoke, and his eyes were full of some emotion I couldn't decipher.
Talking about his mother, I realized, had torn open some long-closed wounds.
Was this my fault for pushing him? Because I doubted him, he felt strongly enough to convince me otherwise – but at what price?
The bleeding had soaked through the paper towel now.
“I'll be right back,” I promised.
He replied as though he didn't hear me. “If you don't want lettuce or onions on your sandwich, tell me now.”
Back upstairs, I dug through my backpack. It contained a small first-aid kid, from which I took some antibacterial gel and a thick bandage. This ought to do, unless he'd cut himself deeper – which I seriously hoped not. Convincing that man to go to the hospital would be tough as getting a cat to take a bath.
Alec was almost done with the food when I returned. He did cook impressively well with just one hand.
“At least put this on.” I showed him the bandage. “Looks like it won't stop bleeding anytime soon.”
He watched me with narrowed eyes as I lifted his hand from the counter and rinsed the cut under cool water. Didn't look too serious, thank goodness.
“You're not the sort to take no for an answer, are you?”
“Not really.” I dabbed the cut with the medicine and wrapped the bandage around it. “There's nothing wrong with taking someone's help. You can't do it all by yourself.”
“I've done just fine by myself up until now.”
With the bleeding staunched, he returned to stacking condiments on bread. He put a sandwich on each plate and handed me one.
“Eat up. You must be starving.”
My mouth watered. Funny, wasn't it, that I ate better being his hostage than I did a free woman. Fast-food burgers had nothing on a home-cooked meal.
“You're not obligated to cook for me,” I said, taking a big bite.
“It's not an obligation. You've got to eat, and I'll be damned if I make you subsist on scraps for the next month.”
I kept my eye on him while we ate together at the counter. What was I supposed to make of him? When he was his normal asshole self, he could be downright frightening. But every now and then, I saw another, more caring side of him.
It confused me.
He unlocked the back door and trailed outside to the deck. I followed, not sure if he wanted my company – but for whateve
r crazy reason, I wanted his.
There was a wooden table with an umbrella over it to shade us from the hot midday sun. Alec sat and stared into the trees as he ate.
“So, uh, what's the plan? Are we going to just sit here and do nothing? Because my dad is not going to come up with that money, and we both know it.” I picked an onion off my plate. “Kind of feels like I'm on death row.”
Alec looked mad for a second, then shrugged, his shoulders slumped. “This is the safest place for you right now. Long as no one knows you're here, you'll be fine.”
“But what if someone does? You said yourself the Giseppis might be looking for me. And even if they don't come, when the thirty days are up...”
His dad would order my execution. Worst of all, I wasn't so sure Alec would refuse the command. Sure, he treated me pretty well, but he lived for his family. He'd do anything that man asked.
That was why I had to flee. I couldn't take the chance.
“You're right,” he said suddenly, slamming his hand down on the table. “Your father's incompetent, no offense. He needs help.”
“Yeah, what kind of help?”
“There are ways to get money fast. Hit up a couple of banks, maybe.”
I slowly chewed my bread and stared at him, confused. “But no bank in the world's just gonna give him a loan for that much.”
Alec cocked his head, then his mouth lifted into a smile, followed by laughter. Even now, in this dire situation, his laugh had a way of making me melt inside.
“Ceci, I don't think I've ever known anyone as adorable as you.”
My face burned, and I pretended to be very interested in the crumbs on my plate so I wouldn't have to look him in the eye.
“Uh, thanks, but what's so funny?”
“I didn't mean to take out a loan.” He chuckled. “You just give the teller a strongly-worded note, and you get a sack full of all the money you want. 'Course, he'd have to be good at running from the cops after. Would need a getaway driver.”
“You're suggesting my father rob a bank?” I kicked him under the table. “He'd never do that. Though I get the feeling you've done it before.”
“Nah. I'm a hitman, not a robber. Only dumb, petty criminals put themselves at risk like that.”
“Yet you're saying my dad should do the same.”
“Hey, how else can you earn a bunch of money fast? It's not as if he has the time to go a more legal route.”
I didn't have any answers. Short of selling everything our family owned – and maybe that wouldn't even be enough – what could he do?
I tried to hold back tears, but the feeling of overwhelming hopelessness was too much.
Alec held his arms out for me. I slid into his lap, lay my head on his chest, and listened to his pounding heart.
“We'll work it out. There's always a way,” he murmured. “I promised I wouldn't let anyone hurt you. Maybe you don't believe it, but I keep my promises.”
But even if I didn't end up dead, how could our family recover from this? Dad had destroyed us financially, and now mom was running off with another man.
And, with my drained college fund and no more scholarship, my dream of becoming a doctor was further away than ever.
I used to think everything was great at home. Now I wondered just how oblivious and clueless I had been.
“Hey, I'm sorry I snapped at you. I can be a real asshole sometimes, but a sweet girl like you shouldn't suffer for it.”
“I understand. I shouldn't have made you talk about your past. I'm sure it was horrible.”
He shook his head. “It was... good to tell someone else. I keep stuff like that bottled up inside, mostly 'cause my problems are nobody's business.”
“But what if you had somebody who wanted to hear them?”
“If you're talking about yourself, then no, trust me, you don't want to hear about my life.” He had a lump in his throat. “I'm a bad guy. If you saw the things I've done, if you knew what I was really like, you'd be disgusted.”
“Maybe, but I'd rather know the truth than pretend everything's okay. That's what my dad did, and look what happened to him.”
He slid me off his lap and leaned over the porch railing. I joined him, but he wouldn't look at me, not even when I put a hand on his shoulder.
“You might be a criminal, but you're not necessarily a bad man,” I said softly. “I can see there's some good in you, too.”
He closed his eyes, and I thought maybe he was about to explode in anger at something I'd said.
“Don't get attached to me, Ceci. I hurt people, and I'm gonna end up hurting you too one of these days.” He scowled and stroked his old knife wound. “Hell, I already have.”
He pulled away from me and strode back into the house, leaving me by myself outside.
It dawned on me then – he'd left me alone out here. All I had to do was sprint for the the woods, and I'd get my shot at freedom. I'd be long gone before Alec realized what I had done.
I gazed at the forest for a moment longer, then picked up our plates and went back inside.
Chapter 12 - Alec
“Hey, handsome.” The busty waitress, Lisa, winked as she dropped off our drinks. “Ain't seen you around the club much the past couple days.”
“Yep,” I muttered, and threw my whiskey down the hatch.
She bent over the table, clearly trying her hardest to give me a good view of her tits. Sam and Jerry stared. I tried to make it clear as day I wasn't interested.
“You look lonely, Alec,” she purred. “I'm free to keep you company after my shift, if you like.”
“No thank you.”
She scoffed, turned on her heel, and strutted away with her tray. The guys groaned and complained.
“Man, what's gotten into you? Sweet young thing like that throwing herself at you, and you shoot her down.” Sam sipped his beer as he shook his head in disgust.
How could I tell them, exactly, what had gotten into me? They wouldn't get it.
The only woman who caught my eye these days was Ceci.
“Hey, Sam, you like her so much, why don't you go get her,” Jerry suggested.
Sam snorted. “You kidding me? She only goes after the pretty boys – like our man Alec here.”
I slammed my glass down on the table to shut them up. “Look, this is not the time to be flirting with girls. Either of you have any news on this alleged traitor?”
They exchanged glances and shrugged. “Nah, we've seen nothing out of the ordinary. Everyone's real jumpy lately, y'know,” Jerry said. “Hope they catch the bastard soon. I can't stand it.”
Normally, I felt so at home at Wanton. The flashing lights, the booming bass of the music, the throngs of beautiful girls, all of it relaxed me after a hard day's work. I could come here after a job and pretend, if just for a few hours, I was a normal guy who didn't kill people for a living.
But tonight, something was different. It wasn't the same without Ceci by my side.
Funny, huh? I told her not to get attached.
Sam nudged me. “So where's this girl, eh? You just leaving her alone all day long?”
“I've got her locked up tight. She won't be going anywhere until dad gets his money.”
I hated leaving her by herself. Maybe I was going crazy, but I actually felt bad about what I'd done to her. If I could let her go free, I'd do it in a second.
That's why I came out here. Dad would be coming by to smoke and enjoy the ladies in his private lounge. Figured it couldn't hurt to try and talk some sense in him.
But who was I fooling? The old man never listened to me. Still, if there was a chance I could help Ceci out of this mess, I would try.
“There's my boy! Get your father a round of Jim Bean and a couple of your prettiest ladies, if you please.”
Dad strutted through the door with some other guys beside him, probably new friends he was trying to impress. The club was where he went to rustle up new business deals. Good; if things were going well for him, the
n he just might be willing to negotiate Ceci's predicament.
I sent a few girls to the lounge. His friends went in, but I nabbed him just before he followed.
“Dad, I gotta talk. It's about the Trenton girl.”
“If she gives you trouble, just slap her around a bit. She needs to know you're in charge.” He grunted and turned to the lounge. “Anyway, I didn't come here to deal with that nonsense right now. Can't you see I got guests to entertain?”
“I... I want to ask you reconsider.”
His eyes bulged out of his head. Then he let out a bellowing laugh that could be heard even over the loud music.
“You're hilarious, kid.” He smacked me on the back so hard it stung. “Reconsider what? Mr. Trenton owes the family a debt. He will repay it. That's how it always goes.”
“Yeah, but do you seriously have to kill his daughter if he doesn't?”
“Oh, I won't be killing anyone. You will.”
My jaw clenched. Adrenaline pumped through my veins; it took all my strength not to sock him in the face. The way he stood there, looking so unafraid of me, angered me even more.
“I don't want to kill her. She's got no hand in this. If you have to punish someone, go after him.”
He lit up a fresh cigar and puffed away. “Don't worry, I'll be doing just that if he continues refusing to pay. First his girl, then maybe his wife. He'll come last.”
I turned my back to him. Never had I said no to an order he'd given. Nobody did. It was unheard of – because if you dared to do that, you were as good as dead then.
“I refuse to hurt Ceci.”
He was silent for a long time. When he did speak, his words were clipped with barely-restrained rage.
“Son, you were given a job to do. You're gonna do it, one way or another.”
“No.”
Sam and Jerry sat nearby, watching me with disbelief. They'd tell all the guys about this later. I didn't care.
“You've killed lots of people before. This girl is no different from them. Why are you acting like such a little piece of...” He trailed off, then his face reddened. “I see. You've got a thing for this broad, don't you.”
