by Amy Brent
“I am,” she said. “At least for the moment. I don't know what's going to happen when my father brings Tony around.”
For a moment, I feared that maybe this was goodbye. I thought that perhaps now that she was back at home, was safe and happy, that what we had between us was going to evaporate. That it had all been an illusion – or at least something that was temporary and easily cast aside. My heart ached at the mere thought of it, but if that was what she truly wanted – I would have no choice but to honor her wishes.
“Please come get me, Deacon,” she said, her voice choked with tears. “I'm begging you. I can't be here anymore. I only want to be with you.”
“Everything is okay, right?” I asked. “You're not being hurt or anything like that?”
“Of course everything is okay. And no, I'm not being hurt. Everything is back to normal around here. The status quo has been restored,” I said. “My dad doesn't even suspect that there's anything between us. And he doesn't know about the baby. Not yet. And he won't until I'm far, far away from this house. I can't stay here. I won't. I miss you, Deacon.”
“I miss you too, Emelia.”
“So that means you'll come get me? And we can run away together like we talked about? We can go somewhere far away?” she laughed, but I could also tell she'd been crying.
“Of course, love,” I said softly. “In fact, I'm already on the road.”
“Good,” she said. “Because I love you, Deacon. And I want to be with you. Need to be with you.”
“I love you too, Emmy.”
There were more voices in the background. “I have to go, Deacon,” she said quickly. “But you have my number, so call me when you're close and I'll figure something out. But be careful. My father is looking for you. He said he's going to do terrible things to you, so please, please be careful.”
She hung up and the phone went dead before I could say anything else. Hearing her begging me to come save her nearly brought tears to my eyes – and I wasn't the type of man who cried very easily. In fact, I couldn't recall the last time I cried. But this girl, she did something to me that I couldn't explain. She had a way of getting into my head and twisting my thoughts and emotions all around. I couldn't think straight when I was near her and my head always seemed to be in the clouds.
Emelia was special. She was unlike anybody I'd ever known before and she really seemed to fill holes within me that I never knew existed before she fell into my life. And I knew I'd never be the same again because of her. I had to get her back.
And there I was, heading back into town with both my Brothers and the Italian mafia on my ass, looking to kill me. If I were smart, I would have been running far away, not running toward the danger. If I were smart, I would have been putting as many miles between me and Chicago as humanly possible and would never set foot on those streets again.
But my Emmy wanted me to come get her – and how could I say no to that?
I couldn't. Which was why I was willingly walking back into the lion's den.
Emelia
“Who were you talking to on the phone earlier, Emelia?” my father asked me, his eyes narrowing as he stared at me.
“A friend,” I said, staring down at my plate, feeling anything but hungry in that moment.
Esme had prepared a lavish feast to celebrate my return. She'd cooked all of my favorites, but I honestly didn't think I could keep anything down even if I'd wanted to. Tony was sitting next to me, holding my hand, and it took everything in me not to slap his hand away from mine. I didn't want to touch him. I didn't want him anywhere near me. The simple fact that he was holding my hand sent waves of revulsion sweeping through me and I was fighting the urge to throw up then and there.
“A friend?” my father pressed. “And which friend might that be, dear?”
“Just one of my friends, dad. You wouldn't know him.”
I flinched as soon as I said the word “him” because I knew that would only bring on more questions – from both my father and Tony. But it had just slipped out.
“Him, huh?” Tony asked, taking a long swallow of wine and then laughing. “Sounds like I've got some competition, eh?”
Tony – my fiance thanks to my father's meddling – was much older than me and repulsed me in ways I never knew I could be repulsed before. Maybe to some people, he'd be considered good looking. Perhaps even distinguished. But he smelled like stale cigarettes, had yellowed teeth from smoking too much and his face took on that pale, pinched look of someone who was already starting to age – and not very well.
I saw nothing attractive about him, and I was convinced that anyone who said otherwise only saw one thing – his money. And there was no question, Tony had a lot of money.
But to hell with money. I didn't want or need Tony's money. And I certainly didn't want to be tied down to that old man – much less sleep with him night after night – just so I could go shopping whenever I wanted to without having to worry about the price tags.
And there was no way in hell I wanted to be saddled with that disgusting old man now that I knew what real love was like.
“Not like that,” I said, rolling my eyes. “He's just a friend of mine.”
“You've remained pure for me, haven't you?” Tony asked, even with my father sitting right there. “Not been whoring yourself around, have you? Because you know that your purity is very important to me. Very important.”
“Of course not,” I said, feeling my stomach churn. “I mean, I'm not whoring around. I am a good girl. Always have been, always will be. I was raised well, Tony.”
Tony's hand moved off my hand and slid down my leg until it was resting on my thigh. He smiled and gave me a gentle squeeze. I thought I might actually throw up as he leered at me. My body stiffened up and I no longer could stomach eating my dinner as he stroked my thigh, moving higher and higher, sliding his hand ever closer to my most intimate parts – parts that he would never see. Not in this lifetime, anyway.
“Please don't,” I muttered under my breath.
I looked at Tony, and if he'd heard me, he gave no indication. My guess though, was that he already considered me his property and felt entitled to do whatever he wished, whenever he wished it. So he ignored my request. Instead, he continued to stroke my thigh through my pants and my stomach roiled. I couldn't speak, I just stared at my plate and tried to pretend this wasn't happening. That he wasn't groping me in front of my father.
My father stared hard at me. I knew he knew exactly what Tony was doing right there at his dinner table – and yet, he was doing nothing about it. I had the irrational urge to grab my knife and slit both of their throats right then and there. But I took a deep breath and tried to will myself to relax. Doing something rash – knowing that Deacon was coming for me – wouldn't be smart. And I really needed to play things smart for the moment.
“I don't think it's wise of you to be talking to other men, Emelia,” my father said. “Not this close to your wedding, and not without supervision. I just think it sends a very poor message. And we wouldn't want to do that, now would we?”
“What am I, a prisoner?” I snapped. “I thought you rescued me from my kidnappers. I didn't realize I was going to have to have somebody babysit me twenty four hours a day, monitoring my calls or who I talk to.”
As soon as I said it, I knew I shouldn't have. Tony grabbed my inner thigh, pinching the skin roughly, making me yelp in pain. I looked at him with hatred burning in my eyes. It would be so easy to bury my knife in his soft, fleshy throat. He'd never see it coming and I could have it buried to the hilt before he even reacted. And it took everything in me to keep myself from doing just that.
“No, you're not a prisoner,” my father said, staring at me with a serious, grim expression on his face. “But sometimes, a father knows what's best for his daughter. And right now, I'm just trying to protect you.”
“Protect me from who?” I asked, staring at Tony.
My father wasn't doing a very good job of protectin
g me from Tony right now – and that was obviously who I needed protection from.
“From Deacon, of course,” my dad said.
“Why would you – ”
“Don't assume I'm stupid or naive, Emelia,” my dad said, his voice rising. “I know how to check phone records. I know a lot more than you think I do. There is literally nothing that goes on in this house that I don't know about. You would do well to remember that while you're living under my roof.”
“What do you know exactly, father?” I said. “What is there to know? That I called Deacon? Big deal.”
Tony moved to pinch me again, but I grabbed his hand roughly and pulled it away from my thigh. He looked at me, an expression of surprise on his face – and a light in his eyes that said I would pay for that insolence later, when my father wasn't present and couldn't stop him. I had no doubt that Tony was the kind of man who liked to slap his women around. Beat them. Maybe worse. And I knew that he viewed me as a spirited horse that needed to be broken – and that he would enjoy trying to do just that.
My father wiped his mouth with his napkin and smiled. “I know that you and Deacon were close. I know that you let him in,” he said. “Because my men had been watching you, for some time actually, before swooping in and picking you up from that motel. I also know you called him earlier today, on the cell phone I gave you. Which is no longer in your possession, I might add.”
I had left the phone on the desk in my room before coming down for dinner, but my father dropped it upon the table with a thud. I stared at him, my mouth agape and a cold finger of dread sliding up my spine.
“Why did you even let me have it then?” I growled. “If you were only going to use it to spy on me?”
“Because I knew you'd reach out to him,” my dad said, smiling ever so wide, “I also knew he'd come for you, child. And trust me when I say that we have plans for Deacon Murphy. Big plans for him. I can't wait, actually. And I'm excited that you get to watch what we do to him.”
My heart sank and a knot tightened painfully in my belly. All of this was a trap, and now, there I was, a prisoner in my own home, completely unable to reach out to Deacon to warn him. He was going to walk into an ambush that was likely going to get him killed and it was all my fault.
“Why are you doing this, father?” I asked, tears welling in my eyes. “You have me back now. Why not just let him go?”
“Because he took something that belongs to me,” my father said. “And not only that, he took something that belonged to Tony as well. And for that, I'm going to let Tony have some fun with him too. He is going to pay a steep price for thinking he could just waltz in and take that which was not his. He – and his entire brood – need to learn their place.”
I stared at the two men who were now grinning at me, waiting for me to say something. But my heart hurt too much. It was breaking at the mere thought of them hurting Deacon. I wanted to scream, cry, to fight back. But there was nothing I could do. Tony had put his hand on my thigh again and gripped it even tighter. And the way he looked at me – like I was a piece of meat ready to be devoured – scared me to death. If he knew I was no longer a virgin, did that mean he was going to have his way with me long before our wedding? Would my father let him?
I looked at my dad, and I so badly wanted to plead with him. I so badly wanted to hurt him.
“I'm not an object, dad,” I said, the tears sliding down my cheeks. “I'm your little girl. Why are you doing this to me?”
His eyes softened slightly – but only for a moment. They returned to the cold, hard chips of diamond that they usually were. Devoid of all emotion.
“The question should be, why did you do this to me, Emelia?” he asked. “Why did you betray your family like this?”
“I didn't – I didn't mean to,” I pleaded. “It just happened, but I promise – I won't stray again. I swear it. Just leave him be, father.”
“No, you won't do this again,” he said. “That much, I can guarantee.”
“Just leave Deacon out of this,” I said. “Please.”
Both men laughed – and not just the evil little chuckles of bad men doing bad things. No, these were full on belly laughs that shook their entire bodies. I remained silent, not sure what was so funny, but apparently it was something they thought was hilarious. The longer they laughed, the angrier I grew. But before I could unleash a verbal assault, my father spoke.
“No way, Emelia,” he said. “Like I told you, he took something that belonged to me, and he's going to pay. Dearly. There's nothing you can do about it now.”
ooo000ooo
Tony had tried to follow me to my bedroom – and I had no doubt what was going through his mind – but my father stopped him. Thankfully.
“What? She's already been with a man, why does it matter?” he asked, pitching his voice loud enough that I could hear him.
“You're still under my roof and she's still my daughter,” my father said. “I don't want that happening down the hall from where I'm sleeping. Wait until she's yours, Tony. Then, feel free to do with her whatever you wish.”
Tony grumbled, but I was thankful. I looked back down at the two men who stared at me with open hostility and disdain. I was a dirty, vile thing to them – nothing more than used merchandise. My father was likely angry about that, and Tony – well Tony would just use that as an excuse to take whatever he wanted from me whenever he wanted. I had no doubts that he believed I was going to be made to pay for my sins by his hand. I had no doubt that he would take every opportunity to degrade and humiliate me.
I had to make sure he never got the chance. Neither one of them knew I was pregnant with Deacon's child – and I shuddered to think what they would do to me if they did know. All I knew for certain was that I didn't want to find out.
Even though they didn't follow me, I knew there were people watching me. I knew I wasn't alone. My father showed that he didn't trust me, which told me that he was going to keep eyes on me every minute of every day. If I was going to make a break for it, I was going to have to be incredibly clever. Or incredibly lucky.
As I slipped into my room, I walked over to the patio door, hoping to step out and get some fresh air. But I found that the door wouldn't open. I fumbled with the lock and rattled the door, hoping that it was just stuck. But looking down, I saw why it wouldn't budge and my heart sank. My father had sealed the doors shut. I wasn't going out that way.
I went over to my window. Same thing. Then to the bathroom where I checked the tiny window above the bath – and it too was sealed shut. As if he expected me to slink out of a tiny window on the second story of our home. I was well and truly trapped inside my room with absolutely no way out of it.
Suddenly, I felt very claustrophobic. I was literally locked away, a prisoner in my own home. No way to reach out to Deacon, no way to even escape from the home. No phone, no internet. No way of communicating with the outside world at all. I had nothing.
I fell against the bathroom door, drew my knees up to my chest and buried my head in my hands, as I started to panic. I felt like I was on the verge of hyperventilating and my heart was racing like I'd just run a marathon. I was scared not just for me and my unborn child, but also for Deacon. My father had set up a trap for him, and I had unwittingly lured Deacon right into it.
I couldn't let that happen. I couldn't let him be hurt. As much as I wanted to have this baby, if it meant Deacon would be dead and I'd be tied to Tony for the rest of my life, then I might as well be dead. There was no way I coud live with Tony and without Deacon. I wouldn't.
And you better bet, I was going to fight like hell to make sure none of that happened.
DEACON
I was at a gas station outside the city, debating with myself about what my next move should be. I hadn't heard from Emelia since that first phone call, and I wasn't sure if I should call her back or not. I didn't want her to get in trouble, and I sure as hell didn't want for us to be discovered – who knew what kind of danger that would put
her in if her father found out I was calling.
I knew where the Antonelli's lived, that wasn't the issue. But I also knew there was no way I could just stroll up to the front door and ask for Emelia. There was no way I was going to be able to just walk up in there and save the day – at least, now without at least a hundred armed guards drawing down on me. No, going up to the front doors was out of the question – it would only end with me in a body bag.
I stared at my phone, debating about whether or not I should call her. I knew that I had to worry about calling her because I feared that doing so would only be putting her in danger. Without knowing what was going on inside that house, I couldn't be sure what was happening – or what might happen. I couldn't be sure of anything honestly.
With no better options presenting themselves to me, I decided to reach out to an old friend – someone I'd trusted more than anyone else at one point in time. But he was part of the group that had led the coup that ousted me from my own Brotherhood. I didn't know how deeply involved with the group he was and I couldn't be certain if he was working with Colin and Sean's guys or not. I had to hope that despite everything that happened, when the chips were down, he would remain loyal to me.
And there was only one way to find out.
I looked at my phone and took a deep breath, letting it out as I dialed up his number and then waited for him to answer. As I listened to the ringing on the line, I realized that I was using a burner and he wouldn't have this phone number, so he might not answer. But I held out hope that I'd get lucky.
“Hey, who's this?” the voice said on the other end of the phone.
“Neil?” I said. “It's – ”
Before I could even say my name, he recognized my voice and when he spoke, I thought I heard something that sounded like relief in his voice.
“Deacon?” he asked. “Is that really you, man?”
“Yeah, it's me,” I said. “I'm sorry to call you like this – ”
“Listen, man, the others wouldn't be too happy if they knew you were calling me, but I'm just glad to hear you're alive. You planning on coming back and kicking a little ass? Going to take the big seat back?”
