Dirty

by Ella Miles

  "Get up."

  Her eyes open thinly, but she doesn't move. I grab her arm and jerk her up, tired of her games. I unshackle her, not bothering her to shackle her back to myself. Instead, I twist her arm behind her back and lead her out my bedroom, down the hallway, and down the stairs to the darkest place in the mansion. The dungeon.

  "What's going on?"

  "I have work to do, and I'm tired of your games. I know that you've been getting food elsewhere. And I know that the food and sleep deprivation aren’t doing enough anyway. It's time for Plan B."

  "And what's plan B?"

  I throw her to the dungeon floor and pull out the needle filled with drugs that will knock her out for at least twenty-four hours.

  "No." Her eyes grow big and her body trembles, just enough to be noticeable. She’s more afraid than she was a moment ago when my cock was buried inside her.

  I should be focused on pushing the needle into Eden’s neck, instead of cooking her. All I can think about is her gorgeous lips and beautiful cunt wrapped around my dick.

  It gives Eden a chance to run to the door I locked behind me. She grabs the doorknob and shakes it fiercely, trying to pry it open, but it doesn't budge. I march toward her with the syringe in my hand.

  "No."

  "You don't have a choice. You either tell me where to find Nina, or I’ll jab this needle into your neck. You'll stay passed out for hours. Weak and incapable of defending yourself if any of my men decide to get frisky with you. You won’t even remember if I raped you or not.”

  She stares at the needle, and for the first time since she's been here, I can truly see the fear. This is her Achille’s heel: being unconscious. But I don't have time to deal with her now. Maybe after getting knocked out again, she’ll be ready to talk, but it's clear she is not willing to speak now.

  I plunge the needle into her neck as she cries out. She tries to push my hand away, but she only fights for second before her body collapses to the floor.

  Her lifeless body is lying on the ground, and I can't help myself. I pick her up and carry her to the bench in the corner of the room. It's not much more comfortable, but at least she's off the dirt. I shouldn’t have touched her. I should have left her in the dirt. I don’t know why I moved her.

  Because Eden is so much like Nina, that's why I.

  I walk out of the dungeon and pull the gun I always keep in the back of my pants out as I head to my car. It's time to kill some motherfuckers for daring to cross me.

  6

  Eden

  My eyes flutter open and the same familiar headache throbs in the back of my head like last time. My stomach heaves and the dizziness and grogginess consume me. My muscles ache like I just finished running a marathon. Last time I didn't know what was happening to me, but this time I do.

  Matteo knocked me out with drugs.

  I take my time sitting up, so I don’t vomit like last time. I lie in bed for several minutes as my eyes adjust to the light and my body gets used to being awake before I try to sit up.

  I don’t know how long I was out. Hours? Days? Weeks? It doesn’t matter. I don’t have access to a calendar or phone telling me what day it is. I can hardly keep track of how long I've been here when I’m conscious.

  I very carefully sit up in Matteo's bed. Careful not to move too fast, so I don't get sick.

  Surprisingly, I don't feel like throwing up when I sit up. I felt much worse last time. So either my body is getting used to the drugs, or he didn't give me as much as last time.

  I close my eyes, trying to regain my strength before I stand up. Darkness and cold overwhelm me in one memory. Matteo’s black eyes before he locked the door, leaving me in the filth.

  The dungeon. I remember.

  He locked me in the dungeon unconscious and left me there all alone. I don’t remember why he was so angry. What did I do to piss him off enough to do that to me again? He’s a horrible person; he doesn’t need a reason to do monstrous things.

  I know one thing: I will do anything not to get drugged again. Well, anything short of telling him where Nina is. But I need a plan.

  I thought I had one after Matteo tried taking food and sleep from me. I thought when I found a way to get food and defy him; he would give up and realize I was a dead end. Apparently, he hasn't given up yet.

  I need help. My lips curl up. I’ve made one ally here. I can make plenty more. Eventually, I’ll have enough allies to escape or fight back. Maybe I’ll find more allies as I did with the first…

  My stomach rumbles again for the hundredth time today. I've never gone so long without food. It's only been three days but the way my stomach heaves, it feels like torture. If I don't get some food in my system soon, I’m going to become delirious, and I'll tell Matteo whatever he wants.

  "I have to go meet Maximo and sign a deal for a weapons trade for next week. Watch her." Matteo undoes the shackle on his wrist and hands it to Dierk who hesitantly attaches it to his arm.

  "What am I supposed to do with her?”

  “Make sure she doesn’t run. And if she tries to, beat her.”

  We both stare, as Matteo walks away from us, both thinking this is some sort of a joke. He hasn’t left me alone with anyone since I got here. He’s only worked at his home office. Today, though, he either needs to leave or having me around is getting on his nerves. Matteo is a loner; he likes to be left alone in his thoughts. We don’t converse a lot when I’m around; he doesn’t like the company. I think I remind him too much of Nina. That, or he’s a grumpy ass for no reason.

  When I get out of here and talk to Nina again, I need to ask her what happened when she was here. Because apparently, she did a number on Matteo.

  My stomach growls again and Dierk gawks at it, like a stomach making noise is a foreign concept to him.

  “You hungry?” he asks.

  I nod.

  “Let’s get you some food then. I could eat, too.”

  I try not to react. My eyes gloss over, and I smile politely. But my heart is beating fast in my chest. My feet are jittering at just the thought of food. And I can’t keep my lips from curling up. Matteo forgot to tell Dierk he isn’t supposed to feed me or let me sleep. If I play this cool, I might get to eat.

  My stomach is going to give me away, though. It’s booming loudly now at the thought of getting fed. I try to calm it down by holding my belly gently, but it can’t be calmed.

  Dierk turns and starts walking toward the kitchen at a much slower pace than I’m used to following Matteo at. I don’t like it. Especially not now, when I might be getting food.

  We finally make it to the kitchen, after what seems like hours have passed. Lines at Disney World have moved faster than Dierk.

  “I’d like a Turkey sandwich with fries,” he says to Emelia.

  He looks at me, waiting for me to give Emelia my order as well.

  “Same,” I say, though I really want a Turkey sandwich, fries, a burger, tacos, and a milkshake. I try to act like I haven’t eaten in hours instead of days.

  The woman’s eyes bulge while I stare at her, biting my lip hard, begging her with my entire body to not give me away. To fix me food and not question if she should be feeding me or not.

  I don’t know how Matteo treats his staff. I’ve never seen him treat the men who work for him poorly. The worst I’ve seen him do is raise his voice slightly when he was frustrated with them. I’ve never seen him hurt them or threaten to kill them or something. But for the most part, I’ve never seen any of the men who work for him do anything that would deserve punishment. They practically worship him.

  I’m not sure if the regular house staff would be immune to any discipline if they were to fuck up. If this cook got caught giving me food when she knew I wasn’t allowed to eat, what would Matteo do? Dock her wages? Fire her? Beat her? Or kill her?

  I don’t know the answer, and I hate making this woman take the risk, but I’m desperate.

  She nods and turns toward the grill to start preparing
our food.

  Dierk turns, takes a few steps, and waits for me to follow him until we are standing side by side. He doesn’t go to the main dining room as I expect. Instead, he walks past it to another room, which I realize is an office.

  “You okay eating in here? I like having some quiet time to think before things become crazy at night.”

  I nod, happy not to have to eat in the dining room where any number of people could walk in and remind Dierk he’s not supposed to be feeding me.

  He slowly walks me over to the small table in the corner of the room where two chairs are seated around it.

  He pulls out my chair for me like we are on a date or something.

  I smile at him as I take my seat. I try not to let his simple charms eat at my heart. There is a high probability this is all an act. Like a good cop, bad cop routine. Dierk is going to treat me nice so that Matteo can treat me like crap later and I’ll let something slip.

  “What do you do?” he asks.

  I snort.

  His eyes wide and his mouth parts questioningly, like he doesn’t understand why I could find what he said funny.

  “You’re serious? I’m a slave in this house, and you want to pretend we are friendly strangers chatting for the first time?”

  He rubs his neck with the hand tied to me. He stares at the chain like he’s seeing it for the first time and realizes what it means.

  “I’m sorry.” His eyes show the sadness of the world as he speaks. He leans forward in his chair placing his hands in his lap. “I’m sincerely sorry. I know you don’t understand, but I am.”

  I frown. Dierk can’t be serious. I distract myself with the office filled with ancient wood, worn like it was made in a different time, as is the entire house. It looks old-fashioned and regal. The mahogany desk takes up most of the space in the room, leaving enough room for a bookshelf and this small table.

  “This is your office, right?” I ask.

  He nods.

  “Then I don’t think your sorrys mean very much. You decided to work for the devil. So you are just as culpable for what happens to me as he is.”

  A knock startles me.

  “Come in,” Dierk says, staring at the door past me.

  Emelia comes in, carrying two plates of food and my stomach churns. The dizziness in my head aches, knowing soon it could be gone. Soon I might be able to walk straight without swerving. Soon, I might have some strength back.

  “Can I bring you anything else?”

  “No, thank you,” Dierk says.

  The woman leaves.

  It takes everything inside of me not to dig into my food, stuffing everything on my plate into my mouth in one scoop.

  “I know you’re hungry. Eat.”

  I hesitate and peek at Dierk, even though I know I shouldn’t. I need to eat as he said.

  “You know?” my voice trembles, thinking this is some twisted game.

  He nods. “I know Matteo isn’t feeding you.”

  “But you’re allowing me to eat? What game are you playing? The food’s poisoned or something, isn’t it?”

  His lips fall, and his body seems to hunch over a little.

  He reaches onto my plate, stealing one of my fries and popping them into his mouth. He chews and swallows before I’m satisfied.

  I can’t wait any longer. I dig into my food as Dierk nibbles on his fries.

  “Why? Why be nice to me?” I ask, my mouth full of my turkey sandwich.

  He stares out the large window out into the forest below.

  “Because I know what it feels like to be hungry.”

  My mouth drops open a little. Dierk seems to have transformed into a young boy in seconds.

  “I went without food many a night when I was a kid. I watched my mother starve to death. My sister cried herself to sleep every night because she was in so much pain from the stomach aches. No one should ever be hungry.”

  I swallow down the turkey, along with the lump in my throat.

  “Thank you.”

  He nods. “I know Matteo wants you to tell him where Nina is. He still loves her, but he deserves better. She loves Arlo; she will never love Matteo. He needs to move on and do what’s best for his family.”

  I shovel the rest of the fries into my mouth and Dierk places the rest of his food on my plate.

  “Matteo is a caring, devoted man. He’s just lost. He’s always had his brother. He doesn’t have the confidence to operate on his own. He hasn’t found his place in the world yet.”

  I frown. “I don’t think Matteo’s a very caring man.”

  He takes a deep breath staring at me. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe he isn’t a kind man. I don’t know. I took this job in high school to put food on the table and ensure my family never goes hungry again. But I can say Matteo is a better boss than Enrico was. That doesn’t make Matteo a saint; it makes him better.”

  “I guess,” remembering all of the horrible things Nina told me about Enrico, Matteo’s father.

  “Now, tell me about yourself. I might as well get to know you if I’m risking getting fired for you.”

  I wince. “You could get fired because of me?”

  He shrugs. “Maybe. If Enrico was in charge, yes. No one has gotten fired since Matteo took over. But probably.”

  “You shouldn’t have risked it.” I don’t want another family hurting because of me.

  He laughs. “You say that now you have a full belly again. I couldn’t sit back and watch you wither away.”

  “You’re prolonging the inevitable. Tomorrow Matteo will start starving me again.”

  “He’ll try, but he won’t be able to, not when I’m sneaking you food.”

  I smile. “Thank you. I wasn’t sure there was a kind person in this house.”

  “There are a lot of nice people here. There are a lot of bad people too, though. Now, what do you do for a living when you aren’t here?”

  “I prosecute the bad guys and lock them up in prison.”

  He grins. “I guess you were right. You do have a better judge of character than I do. Any chance you will spare me when this is all over with?” He wiggles his eyebrows, and I laugh.

  “What makes you think I will make it out alive?”

  “Because you are strong and resourceful. And despite Matteo being cruel, he’s not the worst kind of monster. He won’t kill you. Heck, he can’t even beat you or rape you as he wants. He’s desperate to get answers about a woman he loves, you’re the only lead he has to find her, and the best he can do is deprive you of food. I’m pretty sure he left you with me because he knew I couldn’t resist feeding you. He’s aware of my past.”

  I think for a minute, letting Dierk’s view of Matteo in, but I’m not sure it’s true. I think Matteo hides his plans from everyone he doesn’t fully trust.

  “You don’t have a clue where Nina and Arlo are?”

  He shakes his head. “Not a clue.”

  I grin. “I will spare you once I escape.”

  Dierk said Matteo has a soft side, that Matteo has some warmth in him, even if the evil hides it. Looking around at where I woke up, I’m beginning to think Dierk might be right. I was drugged in the dungeon, but he didn’t leave me there. Instead, he brought me back to his bed.

  When I was unconscious, did Matteo sleep next to me in bed or did he sleep on the couch and give up the bed to me? I’m guessing from how I was lying in the middle of the bed, I slept in the bed alone. So he gave up his bed for me, again.

  His weakness is Nina, I know that, but could I also be his weakness? I remind him of her, so maybe I can find a way to use that to my advantage. All I know is I won’t let him drug me again. I’d rather he starve me. I can’t handle giving up substantial portions of my memory.

  The door opens, and Matteo steps in, but only to make his presence known as his eyes focus on me.

  “Come on. Breakfast is getting cold.”

  I raise an eyebrow. “Breakfast?”

  “Yes, starving you only works when my
staff doesn’t feed you behind my back.”

  My heart races. “Your staff didn’t—”

  His face tenses, and his dark eyes protrude, threatening me. I stop.

  “I’m not asking you to rat out who it was. I don’t care. I know my employees are loyal to me and I can understand how a woman like you could manipulate them into doing what you want. Now get the fuck up and let’s go.”

  I stand up abruptly, forgetting I’m still weak and need to move slowly. My knees give out, and I grasp for the post at the end of the bed, hoping it will keep me upright. I miss. I prepare for impact, my arms outstretched to catch myself. I don’t hit the floor though; Matteo’s arms snatch my wrists, holding me up.

  He searches my eyes. “Why do I do this?”

  I swallow down whatever emotions are creeping up in my throat. Matteo doesn’t have to explain himself. I know what he means. Why does he keep protecting me? Why doesn’t he let me fall to the floor? Why does he care at all? I don’t know the answer, but I have a feeling it’s the same reason I haven’t stolen a knife from the kitchen and jabbed it into his throat while he sleeps. Something unexplainable stops me.

  He lifts my body up into his arms, carrying me like a baby. My head instinctually rests against his firm chest. I breathe in, and the chills all over my arms cause all the tiny hairs on my arms to stick up straight.

  He notices the goosebumps on my arms and carries me to his closet, before pulling a sweatshirt off one of the hangers. He gently places me down on the bench on one end and holds the sweatshirt above my head. I lift my arms up, and he places it over my arms and head, pulling it down to my waist. He walks back over and pulls a pair of yoga pants off the shelf and bends down in front of my leg. He puts one foot into the pants, then the other, and helps me shimmy them up my bare legs until the pants are on.

  I feel much better now that I’m clothed. I don’t know why Matteo always has me sleep in my underwear and one of his t-shirts.

  “Why?” I ask, confused why he dressed me.