Those Boys Are Trouble

by Willow Winters

  “I didn’t fucking touch her. It’s a roofie, for Christ's sake. It was either this, or off the broad.” Roofie. That word triggers something within me, and makes me move involuntarily.

  I try to jackknife off the desk, but someone’s still holding me down. I open my eyes and focus on the man holding me down. I recognize his face. Vince. I struggle against him. His large frame towers over me as his dark eyes search my face. Betrayal hits me hard, and tears prick my eyes. He drugged me. Did he…? I can’t even finish the thought. I struggle to breathe as a sob rips through me.

  How did I get here? I’m in an office and it seems vaguely familiar. I shake my head and try to shake the sleep away. How long have I been here? I remember his face, I remember his name, I remember this room. I remember it all, but only in brief flashes. I shake my head again.

  “Vince?” I ask in a wary voice. Please let me know him at least. I need to remember something.

  “Shit, she remembers,” one voice from over my shoulder says, and then he curses under his breath.

  “She won’t remember it all. I promise you this is going to work,” the third voice sounds out with confidence. Remember what?

  I turn to my right to avoid looking at Vince. Fear washes over me like ice against my skin. Two large men stare back at me. Their tanned skin is stretched tight across their bulging muscles. One man is much less muscular compared to the other one, but he's still jacked. It's only because he's standing directly next to a guy with a truly beastly physique that he seems even a hair less intimidating than he actually is. Their dark hair and eyes make them a frightening sight. Mostly because they look back at me like I’m a threat. Again I try to move away, but Vince's grip only tightens on my wrists as his forearm digs deeper into my hip. My wrists burn as I continue to struggle.

  Their words finally start to register and sink in. I don’t know who they are or why I’m here, but I know they want to kill me. Or did. I open my mouth to scream for help out of pure instinct, but Vince is faster. He covers my mouth with his hand. I take the arm that's suddenly free and push against his hard, unmoving chest in a feeble attempt to push him away. It’s useless.

  Vince leans down with his lips barely touching mine. “Don’t fucking do it, sweetheart.” His voice holds a threat that leaves my chest hollow as fear consumes me. Who is this man? The weight of the situation crashes down on me. What the hell did I do? My eyes dart to the other men in the room. I’m surrounded by criminals, predators who’ve drugged me. I close my eyes and try to will away the depressing helplessness. I’m not okay. I’m not going to be okay.

  “Get out.” Vince’s hard voice has the two men walking slowly to the door. I concentrate on my breathing and watch them leave.

  The larger of the two men looks back at Vince with a hand on the door, standing just inside the room, and holds his gaze. After a moment. Vince says softly, “I’ll let you know if I need you.”

  Something about his tone, the somberness of it, sends pricks down my chilled skin.

  The second the door shuts, I try again to get out of his grasp.

  “Stop struggling.” I hear the dark threat he whispers in my ear through his clenched teeth, but I don’t listen. I can’t listen. I saw those men. I saw the look they gave me, and then the ones they gave him. I’m fucked. I’m so fucked. They’re going to kill me, and I don’t even know why. I need to get the fuck out of here. I try to scream again, and the hot air and spit cover my chin as his hand presses even harder against my mouth.

  “I said to stop it!” he yells. His strong arms wrap tighter around my body, and he easily lifts me up and against the wall. My heart beats frantically as I search for a way to escape. Adrenaline rushes through my blood. “Don’t make me gag you.” I hear his threat in my ear as tears streak down my face. I try to calm down, but all my body can do is stay tense. My muscles scream for me to move them. They want me to fight. Everything in me wants to fight. Against a man like Vince, it’s hopeless.

  But I can at least beg.

  I stay still and try to calm my breath. My chest rises and falls with sporadic hiccups from my sobs. I need to calm the fuck down. I close my eyes and just try to breathe. He won’t hurt me. I need to believe that. I need to believe there’s a way out of this other than death.

  As if reading my mind, he says in a calm voice, “It’s going to be alright.” His deep, baritone voice soothes me. It shouldn’t, but it does. I shouldn’t believe him. And yet, I do.

  “I’m gonna take my hand away, Elle. And you’re not going to scream.” I attempt to nod, but his grip on me is so tight that I can’t move. His hand slowly pulls back and the cool air makes it painfully obvious that I have spit all over my chin. I want to move my arms, but I’m pinned against the wall.

  I turn my head slowly and see his stern expression, daring me to scream. I swallow thickly and I can’t help the need to do just that. I have to try. I won’t be a good little victim for him. I have to try to get the fuck out of here. My body lunges away from him without my conscious consent. The movement makes my head spin.

  His large hand tightens around my throat. I struggle to breathe as my feet lift slightly off the ground. His blunt fingernails dig into the back of my neck as he shoves me against the wall. His force stuns me. But even more so, I'm shocked by the dark look in his eyes. It's a deadly look that tells me I shouldn't fuck with him. I'll regret it if I do.

  I don’t understand. I’m so confused. I remember glimpses of passion between us. What the fuck happened?

  My hands want to reach for my throat. It's a natural instinct as my breathing comes up short. But they’re pinned at my side by Vince's hip and his other hand. My eyes water, and I look back into his gaze to plead with him. I don't want to die. Not like this. Not now.

  He leans into me, and the scruff on his cheek rubs against my jaw. His lips are practically touching my ear. "I don't want to hurt you, sweetheart.” His breathing is unnervingly even. He’s calm. Too calm. “I don't want to, but I will. I won't hesitate if you keep this shit up.”

  I try to stay still. With everything in me, I try to obey him, but the need to fight against his hold wins out as my vision fades and my throat seems to close.

  Just as I think he's really going to end my life and choke me to death, he lets go. My feet stumble against the hard ground and I nearly roll my ankle, heaving air into my lungs. My hands feel around my throat as I land hard on my knees. I let my body sag to the ground and just breathe.

  It's only then that I realize I'm crying hysterically. My face is hot and wet from the tears.

  I see him bend down, his worn, dark wash jeans just an inch from me and I fall back on my butt and kick away, scrambling backward as fast as I can until I hit the wall. I restrain the scream crawling up my throat and wait as still as I can.

  He's still in a squatted position, his hands resting on his knees as he looks back at me as though contemplating what to do with me. The need to fight is suppressed for now. Attempting to run would be useless. All I have left is to try and beg for mercy.

  “Please let me go,” I plead with him. My words are slurred. My head spins slightly as I feel the full weight of my body. I’m not okay.

  “Not until I know everything you saw.” His words confuse me. I don’t know what he’s talking about.

  I shake my head violently. "I didn't see anything."

  A cocky smirk graces his lips. "Sorry sweetheart, but lying isn't going to get you anywhere with me. You remembered my name."

  “What did you give me?” The question comes out slower than I intend as I move my arms sluggishly and realize my motor function is off. My body heats with anxiety.

  “It’s a heavy sleeping pill.” My head shakes. Liar.

  “A roofie?” I ask accusingly. I remember someone saying it earlier. He drugged me. Betrayal washes through my body once again.

  “It’s similar to Rohypnol.” He doesn’t even have the decency to look away as he admits that they drugged me.

  “Why?
” I ask, in a small voice that I hope expresses my hurt.

  “You saw something after we were in here, and I didn’t have much choice.” His jaw clenches and he faces the wall for a moment before his gaze focuses back on me. “It was the best option at the time.”

  “I don’t remember anything, I swear.” My breath and voice both hitch in my throat. If only he’d believe me.

  He sighs heavily. “It’s gonna take more than that, Elle.” My lips tremble and my throat dries up.

  “What do I have to do?” I ask, my voice shaky.

  “You need to come with me.”

  “Am I even going to remember this?” The thought occurs to me as I really think about what a roofie does.

  “I don’t know,” he answers calmly. “I hope not, 'cause that would really fuck this plan up. You should still be asleep.”

  "I won't tell anyone." The words fly out of my mouth. I whisper hoarsely, "I swear to God, I won't." I don’t care that he drugged me; I just want to get the hell out of here.

  His eyes are full of remorse. "That's something we just can't risk."

  "Who are you?”

  He answers easily. "The mob, sweetheart." My blood chills at his confession. "You just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time." His eyes narrow and turn angry. "You should’ve waited for me." His words have a tone of accusation, but I don’t even know what he’s referring to.

  Even with the fear from his threat still hanging over me, I manage to spit out a response in disbelief. "What did I do to deserve this?" I slam my mouth shut at the pissed off look on his face.

  "That mouth, sweetheart, that mouth of yours is going to get you into trouble."

  I close my eyes and pretend it's all a dream. "Please, just let me go," I whisper. After a moment, I open my eyes and find him standing, looking down at me. His broad shoulders and air of power make him the epitome of intimidation and domination. This man owns me. I am completely at his mercy.

  "I'm sorry, sweetheart. I really am." He presses his lips into a straight line and shakes his head slowly. "But I'm not letting you go."

  "What are you going to do with me?" My heart thuds against my chest, yet my lungs seem to freeze as I wait for his answer. He walks around the desk with his back turned to me. The sinewy muscles of his arms ripple with his movements.

  He opens a drawer, and my eyes widen as I whimper and shove my body even harder into the wall. I want to look at the door. I want to search for an escape. Instead, my eyes are zeroed in on him, waiting to see what he's pulling out of the desk. I'm assuming it's a gun. I fully expect for him to shoot me.

  I don't expect him to pull out thin, twined rope. It's the coarse kind that's used in kitchens. “You're going to listen to me, Elle. And I promise if you do, I'll do everything I can to keep you safe."

  A mix of emotions washes over me as he pulls out more rope and wraps it around his wrist. Surprisingly, confusion is one of the strongest ones I'm currently feeling. "Why?" I can't help asking the question. “Why are you doing this to me?”

  Vince pauses his movements as his eyes find mine. His cold gaze keeps my eyes locked on his although I desperately want to look away. He responds after a long moment of silence. "Trust me, Elle. It’s better this way." For the briefest second, some sick part of me does trust him. But then I quickly come to my senses.

  I don’t trust him. I won’t.

  Vince

  What the fuck am I doing? I run my hand down my face as I hear her bang against the trunk. Again. I keep hearing her muffled screams and it’s pissing me off. She doesn’t listen for shit. The cold sweat that I can’t kick runs through my body as I gently move the car through the intersection, past the familiar weathered stop sign. She can keep kicking and screaming for all I care. These back roads are deserted this time of day. No one is going to come save her. For now, she’s mine. And that means no one’s going to hurt her either.

  I’ll take her to the safe house in the country. It’s a good 30 minutes away from here, and at least a 10 minute drive to civilization. I used to go there to hunt. Back when I thought I’d like that shit, anyway. Turns out waking up before the crack of dawn is not my thing. So now it’s the familia’s. Only Dom and Pops know about it though. She’ll be safe there. I run my hands through my hair and let out a heavy sigh. I’ll keep her there until I know what to do about this. Until I know for sure I can save both our asses.

  I wish she hadn’t woken up. If she’d just stayed asleep it would’ve been so much better. I would’ve been alone, maybe told her she hit her head. I have no idea. I’ve never been in this situation. But I wasn’t going to let them kill her. It was my fault. My fuck up. And I’m going to fix this.

  The memory from earlier flashes before my eyes. Her shrill scream as she saw my cousins Anthony and Tommy hovering over the brutalized body. Blood covered nearly every inch of that poor bastard’s exposed skin.

  My grip tightens on the steering wheel, and suddenly her relentless banging is more annoying than it was before.

  I grind my teeth remembering how they came in to the office while I was trying to calm her down.

  I drag her back to the room, her small body pushing against mine. Her feet barely touch the ground as I lift her squirming body to hold her tighter to my chest. Her nails dig into the skin of my forearm that’s pressed hard against her chest, until I can pin her up against the back wall in the office. Her breathing is heavy and so is mine. Adrenaline courses through my blood. One hand covers her mouth to keep her screams muffled.

  Fuck! I grit my teeth and keep my voice low as I speak through clenched teeth. “Stop. Screaming.” She doesn’t listen. She keeps it up as though I haven’t said a damn thing. I slam my body up against hers, then move my hand to her throat and squeeze.

  “Listen real good, you had better fucking stop.” That gets her attention, but then the office door opens and two sets of heavy, even strides are heard in the silence. The door closes and locks with a loud click.

  “I thought it was locked, Vince.” Anthony speaks, but I don’t turn around. I keep my eyes on hers as they dart to my cousins behind me.

  “You want me to do it quick, Vince?” Anthony asks. “I’ll make it painless.”

  My blood chills as I watch her eyes widen in fear. My poor sweetheart. I can’t. I can’t let that happen.

  “No.” It’s the only word I can say. I don’t want to explain it to them. Because I’m their boss, I should know what to do, but I haven’t got a clue.

  “You need her to talk or something, Vince?” I can hear the confusion in Anthony’s voice. She should be dead by now. I shouldn’t be toying with her like this. Thing is though, I don’t want her dead. She whimpers and her eyes finally meet mine. I know I must look like a cold-blooded killer. My jaw is clenched and my eyes are hard.

  She struggles again in my grasp and then I remember my forearm on her neck. Her head is pushed back in an unnatural way and she’s taking in ragged breaths. I let up on my grip.

  I place my lips at her ear and whisper, “Don’t you make a fucking sound.”

  “Vince?” At Anthony’s question, I turn my shoulder to Elle. And she acts like a fucking idiot and takes off behind me. My hand reaches out to snatch her but I miss. Tommy’s right fucking there, though. Did she really think she’d make it? Watching Tommy wrap an arm around her waist, bringing her body up against his pisses me off.

  He speaks clearly, and I can hear the remorse in his voice as he says, “I’m sorry, I really am.”

  I know exactly what he’s gonna do. He’s planning on snapping her neck. Quick, painless, but it’s not going to fucking happen. I take three strides and I’m on him. I land my fist on his jaw like a fucking asshole. He doesn’t see it coming, and it sends him flying into the wall. His shoulder blade hits the drywall, leaving a large dent. Elle tumbles to the ground and I step over her, fuming with rage.

  “No one touches her. No one!” I scream so loud I know they all hear it. Everyone in this place. But I don
’t give a fuck. It’s not going down like this. I know the rules, just like I know I’m breaking them right now. But I don’t care. I’m not going to allow anyone to hurt her.

  I hear her shriek, and I turn to see Anthony holding her just like Tommy was. But he’s quick to respond. “Just keeping her from running, boss.” I give him a quick nod and turn back to Tommy. He’s looking up at me with equal amounts of shock and aggression.

  I reach down and offer my hand and help him up. His eyes stay on me, waiting.

  “I don’t want her dead, Tommy.” He looks at me for a moment and then nods.

  “One second, boss.” I don’t know what he has planned. But I do know this is all fucked.

  It’s all my fault. All of it.

  What the hell was I doing letting her leave on her own? Fucking careless. I was sloppy. I’m not fucking sloppy. Never. That’s not how Valettis do business. I grind my teeth and look out of the window as we finally leave the outskirts of the city. Pops is going to be pissed.

  Just the thought of his disappointment makes my heart sink. I don’t really give too much of a shit what anyone thinks of me, except for Pops and Ma. Sometimes my brother Dom and sister Clara. But my father's opinion matters the most. He’s always been proud of me. But this shit I’ve gotten us into--this is not good. He’s not going to fucking like that I risked the family to get my dick wet at our place of business.

  I don’t know what it is about this broad that has me making poor decisions left and right. I don’t know if it’s her curves, that little pout she has that shows me she’s hurting, or that snappy little attitude that comes out of nowhere.

  I fucking love the spitfire my sweetheart is. I can’t fucking wait for her to go off on me again so I can spank that ass of hers. Next thing I know my dick's hard, pressing against my zipper. I let my head fall back, but keep my eyes on the road. And then I hear her thumping away in the back. What the fuck is wrong with me? I’m never getting in that pussy again. I’m the fucking enemy now.