Guard Me: A Mafia Romance (The Rossi Crime Family Book 4)

by J. L. Beck

  I have no answers to my questions and that terrifies me. I don’t know why any of this happened to me and most of all I don’t know what my future holds. Parts of me wonder if I'm better of dying?

  I crawl into a tiny ball and let the tears stinging my eyes fall. I cry for the unknown, for my future, and for the past I'm certain I'll never get to go back too.

  Chapter 3

  Ivan

  I’m just looking over the weapons export reports laying on my desk when someone knocks on the door of my office.

  “What?” I growl into the air.

  Gabe opens the door popping his head in as if he's making sure I don’t shoot him on sight. I have been in an extra foul mood for the last week and my men have all noticed and most likely felt it, since I've been handing out ass kicks more often.

  “What do you want?” I don’t even look up at him. I just keep sifting through the papers wishing he would just turn around and leave already.

  “Sorry to interrupt boss but I thought I should tell you that one of the girl hasn’t been eating.”My head snaps up at his words and suddenly he has my full attention.

  “Which girl?” I ask irritated. I really hope it’s not the same one as before. I’ve been trying to get her out of my fucking head all week but the image of her beautiful face, her big blue eyes looking up at me and how she felt cradled in my arms is permanently embedded into my brain. Everytime I close my eyes I see her in that damn room, alone, and cold.

  “Number five.” I sigh at his words, of course it’s her. Out of the ten women on that floor it's got to be her.

  “For how long?” I ask uninterested

  “Almost a week.” A week? A whole fucking week? I remember her face and how swollen it was when I left her. Maybe she can’t eat. Fuck, I should have let the doc check her out. No one is going to buy her if she is dead.

  “I’ll take care of it.” Gabe stares at me for a second longer than I’d like, look at my like he is waiting for an explanation or something. I don’t owe this guy anything.

  “Get the fuck out of my office,” I snarl at him and watch him scurry away shutting the door behind him. I shove the papers on my desk away from me and open the drawer underneath. I rummage through it until I find the pill bottle I’m looking for.

  Demerol is going to numb her up, and help her sleep. I wrack my brain on what I’m going to say to her. I’m not sure what I’m going to tell her but I can’t let her starve herself.

  I get up and walk out of my office, making my way down to the the cells. When I get to her cell I stop in front of the one way mirror and watch her for a few minutes. She is curled up on the mattress in the fetal position.

  Most of her body is covered by my shirt that she is wearing and even though her eyes are closed she doesn’t look like she is sleeping. Her features are too tense. Her cheek and jaw are still bruised but her lip has mostly healed. Her face looks skinnier and I’ll bet anything she’s lost weight. What the fuck am I supposed to do with her?

  I shake my head and unlock the cell door. Immediately she sits up looking at me with wide eyes, When I step closer she scoots back on her mattress until her back hits the wall.

  “You need to eat,” I tell her walking until I’m standing right in front of the mattress.

  “Why?” Her voice is quiet and raspy as if she hasn’t been drinking enough water either.

  “If you don’t eat, you are going to die.”

  “Aren’t I going to die soon anyway?” She looks up at me with those big blue eyes of hers and even the dark circles underneath, the beauty of them still pours out of her.

  “Not necessarily.” I know the chances that she is going to end up dead are high but I don’t want to think about that, not right now.

  “I doubt men buy women like their at a meat market just so they can take them out on nice dates... I’d rather starve to death then die at the hands of some sicko.” In my mind I know that she is right and it would probably be a kindness to let her die this way instead of selling her to the highest bidder. Yet, the thought of her dying has my chest aching.

  I pull the pill bottle from my pocket and hand it to her. She looks down at it but makes no move to take it. Jesus this woman is infuriating. Instead of forcing into her hand like I want too I throw it onto the mattress beside her and turn around, heading for the door.

  “Don’t leave… please,” she begs and I almost lose it right then. Balling my hands into fists I grab the tray of food from the door. When I turn back around to look at her, her eyes are watery like she is about to start crying. Fuck me. She looks like a mess, but a beautiful mess, like the sky after a horrible thunderstorm. I close the distance between us and hold the tray in front of her face.

  “Take a pill and eat.” I order. She looks down at the tray examining the food.

  “Will you stay if I eat?”

  Bargaining. She’s bargaining with me. I consider her offer for a moment even though I already know what the answer should be. I sit down next to her on the mattress holding the tray of food on my lap. As soon as I settle, she scoots over to me so her body is pushed up against mine.

  I should push her away… I should get up and walk out of here, but I know I can’t. I feel compelled to see this through to the end, to at least make sure she’s safe for the rest of her stay here. I break off a piece of the sandwich and hand it to her.

  Her small hand reaches out to grab it and her thin fingers brush against mine as she does. Her skin is still cold and suddenly I have to fight the urge to pull her onto my lap and throw my arms around her. I want to hold her close, protect her, make certain she’s taken care of. Everything I shouldn’t do for her I want too.

  She starts taking small bites of the already bite size piece I’ve handed to her. I watch her chew and it seems as if even this simple task takes an enormous effort for her. After a few bites she leans her head against my shoulder and closes her eyes while she eats.

  “You need to take one of these. It’s just some pain medicine.” I don’t tell her that this is more like morphine and less like tylenol.

  “I don’t want to take any drugs,” she tells me sleepilly.

  “It’ll help you feel better.”

  “Yeah and make me weaker...easier to be taken advantage of.” Her words spark a fear deep in my belly. She’s right. If she’s sleepy, knocked out on pain meds then any of the fucking bastards in this place can come in and take advantage of her.

  “No one will touch you.” The words vibrate out of me.

  “Don’t lie to me Ivan.” I straighten up a bit at her use of my name. I didn’t think about it when the guys called me by my name in her presence the other night. And now I suddenly wish I knew her name.

  “I know that far worse is to come for me. The least you can do is be honest with me, if you aren’t going to let me go.”

  “No one will touch you, or hurt you again. I won’t let them.” I don’t realize how much I mean those words until I say them, and I know deep down that I won’t let anyone hurt her, or touch her again. I can’t let her go, no matter how compelled I feel too but I can protect her, and that’s just as good right?

  “What’s going to happen to me?” She asks, and I hand her another small piece of the sandwich. She eats it slowly. I’m not sure I want to tell her what’s going to happen, not when I shouldn’t even be in here to begin with. If any of the men saw me in here I’d have to come up with some kind of excuse, I have no real reason to be in here. It’s unlike me, and I think the men are already starting to notice a change in my behavior.

  “Just eat.” I hand her another small piece but she doesn't reach for it. I want to offer her more than this dry piece of shit sandwich, but I can’t. Yet another item on the long list of fucking things that I can’t bring myself to do for her.

  “I’m done.” She shakes her head slightly.

  “You need to eat more than a quarter off a sandwich. You haven’t eaten for nearly a week.”

  She sighs while continuing
to shake her head, “I can’t...I’m not hungry.” Her body sinks more into mine like she is too weak to keep holding herself up. She stretches out her legs in front of her and the shirt rides up to above her knees revealing a little more of her skin. I almost throw the tray across the room when I see some dried blood on the inside of her thighs.

  I twist to look at her and she slides down the wall where she was leaning on to me. I catch her before her head hits the mattress. My hands are on her thin upper arms pulling her up straight before I can stop myself from doing so. Her eyes fly open and she looks up at me, shock reflecting in her eyes.

  “Who hurt you? Did someone come in here again?” My voice comes out much harsher that I intend it to but I’m fucking furious.

  I ordered them not to touch her, told them I’d kill them myself if they did and yet here she fucking is clearly hurt. I grit my teeth wanting to leave the room right this second and find the fuckers who did this to her. All I fear is burning rage. She looks at me with her eye going impossibly wide, her body stiff in fear underneath my touch. Fuck, and now I’m hurting her too. I loosen my grip on her and watch her shake her head slowly.

  “No one came in here again, no one but you.”

  “Then why is there blood between your legs?” I watch her look down at her thighs and she squeezes them together as if out of reflex, as if she’s trying to hide the evidence of whatever the hell happened.

  “It’s… It’s nothing.” She tries to pull away from me but I don’t let her. I watch her face closely but she won’t meet my eyes. She tries to pull the shirt down to cover her legs more and I see her cheeks turn a faint pink. Is she blushing? Now that I’ve take another look at her I realize she looks more embarrassed than scared.

  “I’m… well, I’m on my period,” she says without looking at me.

  I release her at once, feeling like an even bigger asshole than before. I squeeze my eyes shut trying to make all of this go away. When I open my eyes again I find her staring back at me with tears in her eyes. I look up and down her body, her hair is a matted in spots, and greasy. Her legs are filthy and she has been wearing the shirt I gave her for over a week now.

  Christ. I pry my eyes away from her and look around the empty room that holds nothing but a dirty mattress. I can’t take it anymore. Something inside me snaps...it cracks, and the contents seep right out of me. I have to get her out of here and cleaned up, even if it’s just for a few hours.

  I stand up and she immediately starts pleading with me. “Please don’t go, I can get cleaned up in the sink. I’ll try to eat some more. Just please don’t leave me alone, please Ivan. Please.” Her words just add to the growing pain in my chest. The way my name falls from her lips making it a million times worse. She reminds me of all the good I could do for her, she reminds me that beneath everything I am human and I am capable of caring, and that scares the fuck out of me, because caring for her will only mean one thing... and that would get us both killed.

  Already having made my choice I look down at her, “Get up.”

  She looks up at me confusion maring her delicate features, and she gets up anyway. Her small arms pushing herself up to stand on shaky legs.

  “You’re going to come with me to take a shower and then I’m going to bring you back down here…you will not run. You will not scream. Do you understand?”

  She nods her head furiously and her eyes light up just a little. I grab her by the arm and start guiding her outside the cell. Her steps are small and hesitant. At first I think she is afraid but after watching her for a few moments I see her face contort in pain, and I quickly realize that she is far too weak to be walking.

  “I’m going to carry you.” I tell her and slide my arms underneath her at the same time. She lets out as small gasp as I pick her up but doesn’t complain. I walk out into the hallway and she leans her head against my shoulder.

  “Close your eyes, ”I whisper as we walk. I don’t need her to be looking around here. I’m already taking a huge fucking risk letting her out of her cell. She doesn’t need to see anybody or anything around here. Looking down at her I see she has followed my command and turned her face into my chest just like the last time I carried her.

  I carry her all the way up to the third floor where some of us have small apartments. I briefly set her down on her feet so I can grab my keys from my pocket and unlock the door. I twist the knob, opening the door I gesture for her to walk in and she does, her eyes wide, her legs shaking as if she is unsure of what will happen next.

  “You live here?” She asks, her eyes moving over the contents of the apartment. The place isn’t much just a one bedroom, with a small kitchen, and living room. It’s only me living here and I don’t need all that much. I watch her take a few more steps, her fingers gliding over the back of my leather couch. I wonder what she’s thinking? If she’ll try and run away from me? If she’ll take my kindness for weakness?

  “Yes. This is what I call home, at least for right now.” I pocket my keys, and close the door behind us, locking the deadbolt into place. I don’t think she is in any shape to run off, but it’s better to be safe than sorry.

  She turns to face me and I can see she is nervous about being here. She is wringing her hands in front of her and I can see her swallowing repeatedly. The look in her eyes reminds me of that of a scared animal. I want to tell her she’s safe with me, that no one will ever hurt her again but then I’d be lying. Anyone could hurt her, including myself.

  “Come on,” I reach out and offer her my hand. She looks down at it for a moment, as if she’s worried that taking it will harm her in some way, then as if she’s made up her mind she takes it.

  I lead her into the bathroom, leaving her standing in front of the shower while I grab some towels. When I turn back around I see her swaying and leaning against the the wall for support.

  She is so fucking weak, she can’t even stand up for five minutes on her own. Damnit, this is my fucking fault. All mine.

  How the fuck is she going to take a shower?

  She’s going to end up slipping and falling, probably breaking her damn neck in the process. I walk over to her and grab the hem of her shirt to pull it up and off of her but she stops me grabbing me by the wrist, a quiet yelp of fear or maybe even shock falling from her lips.

  “What are you doing?” She tries to make her voice sound strong but she can’t fool me.

  “I’m helping you. I’ve already seen you mostly naked, remember plus it’s not like you’re the first woman I’ve ever seen naked.” I pause briefly, realizing maybe I shouldn’t have said that.

  “Look, you can’t even stand up straight, so I’m not going to let you take a shower by yourself just so you can fall and break your neck.”

  She’s looks so timid and completely unsure about all of this but she lets go off my wrists and doesn't make another move to stop me. Yet again, the way she blindly trusts me has my stomach in knots. She shouldn’t trust me, if she was smart she’d turn around and run out of this fucking room and back to her cell. She definitely wouldn’t find comfort in my touch, or presence that’s for sure.

  Gripping the hem I pull the shirt up her body, and over her head and she lifts her arms a little bit so I can slip it off of her the rest of the way. I try not to let my gaze linger on her creamy white skin underneath and her small perky breast but I can’t help it. It’s been too fucking long since I took a woman, or at least that’s what I tell myself as I continue to take in her body.

  Even with her being a little too skinny for my liking, her body is undeniably beautiful and I have the sudden urge to kiss that body all over. To hear and feel her beneath me.

  Fuck. No. I shake the thought away, and instead focus on turning the water on. I adjust the temperature of the water, waiting for the water to warm. The pipes squeak slightly, and once the water starts to fill the bathroom with steam I turn towards her.

  She takes an uncertain step towards the shower, and I start to peel my own clothing off. Since the
re is no fucking way I’m letting her shower alone I might as well get my shower for the evening in too. When I’m down to nothing but my boxers I look up at her. It’s then I realize just how different we look. She’s all smooth creamy white skin, and I’m dark, with scars, and tattoos.

  Fear fills her gaze, and I realize that I probably should’ve told her I was going to be taking a shower with her. Gripping the edge of my boxers I shove them down my muscled thighs.

  If she’s going to be afraid then she is...but either way we’re taking a shower.

  “Take your underwear off,” I order, stepping into the shower extending a hand to her. She stands there frozen in place for a few seconds. Frustration fills my veins. Patience isn’t something I have, not with my men, and not with anyone else in my life, but I know I have to be patient with her. At least a little bit. I give her a few more moments. I’m about to grab her and pull her in when she dips two fingers into her panties and pulls them down with shaking hands.

  When she stands back up she takes my hand and I gently tug her into the shower with me. The space is small, and suddenly I’m aware of just how fucking bad of an idea this is.

  Chapter Four

  Violet

  He’s huge. That’s all I can think in that moment. Like huge, and I don’t just mean his penis. I mean his body overall. How is it that he can seem bigger without any clothes on? I look him up and down, his eyes are an intense gray, a color that reminds of the sky before a storm. He’s built and I do mean built, like a tree standing thick, and strong in the forest. A forest with integrate tattoos all over. He has way more than the neck tattoo I have already seen. One arm is completely covered and the other one is half covered. There are two large ones on his chest and multiple pieces on his back. There are so many I can’t all take them in.

  His hair is a dark brown, almost the color of espresso, and I can’t help be feel invaded by his body. His presence is intimidating and while I feel safe with him I worry he may only see me as an object, rather than an actual human in this moment. After the way he looked at me when he took my shirt off I wonder if he even cares about my feelings.