by Ella Miles
She’s afraid of me. I don’t have to ask her to understand that.
“You’re going to return me to him…” Her lip quivers and tears threaten in her big green eyes, clouding the sparkle there before.
“No.”
“I don’t believe you. You turned me over to him before. You want to wait a few days. Get your fill of me, and then pretend you found me when it’s most convenient to get back on Dante’s good side.”
“N—”
“I’ll tell Dante. I’ll tell him everything if you give me back to him.”
I pull the car over abruptly to the side of the road. I need to focus on her if I’m going to win this fight with her.
I grab her shoulders and pull her, so she is staring straight at me. I tell myself it’s so I have her full attention, and she can see into my eyes that I’m telling the truth, but it’s because I need to have my hands on her.
“If you believe one thing about me, believe this. I will never give you back to Dante. Even to save my own skin. You will never see Dante Russo again. He will never touch you again. Never beat you. Never rape you. Once I claim something as mine, it’s mine. I don’t share. I don’t change my mind. I will never let Dante have you again.”
“Dante won’t stop looking for me. Ever. You can’t assure that.”
I cock my head to the side and give her a wicked smirk I’m sure reaches my eyes. “I’m Dante’s security now. He wiped out his old team. He trusts me. Dante will never find you unless I want him to find you. I control Dante now. And I’m the best damn security in the country. You are free of Dante.”
My eyes scan hers, trying to decide if she believes me. I don’t know why it matters to me that she believes me. It’s frustrating me that I can’t read her.
“Do you believe me?”
Nothing. No answer on her face or from her lips.
“Gia?” I ask, with a warning to my voice.
“I don’t know.”
I sigh.
“Why? Why would you never turn me over to Dante? I don’t understand.”
So many heartbreaking images fill my head, and I almost forget where I am.
I shake my head, pushing the memories away.
“It doesn’t matter why. Just believe me when I say Dante will never own you again.”
I release her, and her body falls back into the chair, unable to hold herself up. I start driving again while we both sit in silence.
I do everything I can to not think about the gorgeous, feisty woman sitting next to me. When my mind starts counting her breaths, I change to counting the road signs we pass. When my eyes cut to the glow of her filthy skin, I punish them by playing images of Dante. When my nose takes deeper breaths, trying to get a whiff of her sweet smell, I roll down my window as we pass a cow pasture.
It takes us forty-five minutes to reach the small turnoff for my house. Gia fell asleep shortly after driving again. Her breathing has been slow and steady since.
I reached over around minute ten to tuck her hair behind her ear so I could see her pretty face better. She didn’t stir. I punished myself by digging my nails into my skin. I’m going to need a better way to keep Gia out of my thoughts when I’m on the job. This won’t work.
Now that we are almost to my house, it doesn’t matter if I think about her. I can act on my needs. Fuck her if I want.
No. I will not fuck a woman who was so recently touched by another man. He probably fucked her in his office before she ran.
I slow my speed as the car sways over the gravel path leading to my house. There is no sign for this road. There is barely even an opening among the trees. It’s how I like it. No one knows my house even exists back here.
Slowly, my black roof starts peaking out over the trees. The small cabin-like feel of the siding comes into view.
“Your house is tiny.”
My head jerks to Gia. I thought she was asleep, but the bouncing of the car must have woken her.
I raise an eyebrow. “I can return you to your previous owner. Just say the word, and you’ll be back in his giant mansion.”
She stills. “I’ll give your tiny house a try first.”
I narrow my eyes. “I forgot. You’re a Carini. You care about things like houses and cars and money.”
She looks out the window, suddenly more solemn. I said something wrong.
“I’m not sure if such things matter or not, but I miss them.” The way she speaks with regret stirs my deep feelings. It’s clear she doesn’t want to miss mansions, money, and expensive cars.
I shrug. “I don’t think it matters if you prefer giant mansions or not. I prefer my excluded house in the woods.”
“Our house was excluded. Hidden. But it had enough rooms we could all live under one roof. My entire family. We could have extravagant parties and lush rooms. Why wouldn’t you want that?”
I shake my head. “You may think the Carini mansion was hidden and private. It wasn’t. Trust me. I’ve been doing security for a long time. I’ve seen hundreds of houses. My house is private. Yours wasn’t.”
“I doubt you have been doing this for a long time.” She rakes her eyes over my body as she takes in my appearance and age.
“Security is all I’ve ever done. Even when I was a kid. Don’t start judging me because I don’t come from a long line of Conti’s who work in security. I made my money on my own.”
Her face brightens at my admission. Damn it. How do I keep revealing so much about myself to her so easily?
She nods. “I wasn’t judging you for not inheriting money. I admire that. It seems like a simpler life, where nothing is expected of you, and you can choose your own path. I envy you for that.”
“Don’t. My life is no more perfect than yours is.”
She raises an eyebrow. “You can’t be serious. Your life is a lot better than mine. You’ve never had your life threatened. Your ownership of your body, taken. Never been violated by another person.”
“Don’t speak unless you know the words you are saying are truthful. You know nothing about my life. In some ways, my hell is much worse than yours.”
Her eyes cross in confusion and her luscious red lips open to speak again. I climb out of the car before she starts firing off her questions. This is one area she won’t be getting any answers to her questions. I’ve endured more pain than she can ever imagine. I would easily trade paths with her to get rid of my own omnipresent pain.
I walk to her side, but her door is already open, and her feet are swung to the side as she prepares to step out.
Not fucking happening.
I scoop her up roughly.
“Put me down. I can walk! There is no threat at the moment. Dante isn’t lurking behind one of the trees. Let me walk. It doesn’t matter how long it takes me.”
“It does too matter how long. I have work to do. I can’t just sit around waiting for hours as you stumble into my house.”
She pouts. “What did you mean back there about your hell being worse?”
I refuse to answer her or even acknowledge her words. I enter my code on the front door and wait for the door to unlock after it has scanned my face and recognized me as the owner. It opens, and I carry her in. The door shuts and locks automatically behind me.
“Caspian, it’s good to have you home. Can I get you anything, sir?” Michi, my assistant, and the owner of the house on paper, asks. He oversees everything that has to do with the house when I’m not here.
“We would love some food. Something light, please Michi.”
Gia looks from me to Michi curiously. I expect her to open her mouth, but she doesn’t.
“Yes, sir. I’ll make some soup and grilled cheese.”
“Thank you.”
Michi heads to the kitchen.
“Wow, I’m surprised you can fit a third person into this shack,” Gia says, with a hint of teasing in her voice. I don’t know what it is that allows her to feel comfortable teasing me, but I like it.
“Watch it, or
you’ll be sleeping outside.”
I carry her to my bedroom. The house is small, with only two bedrooms; one for me and one for Michi. The living room couch folds out into a bed when my sister stays over. But that isn’t often anymore. I didn’t think about it much when I was planning on taking Gia, just that I wanted her here.
I’ll figure out the rest later. I place her on my bed before I realize my mistake. My cock comes to life straining hard in my pants at the sight of her on my bed.
The T-shirt she is wearing doesn’t hide her glorious tits. Her nipples are hard against the thin material. And the boxers she is wearing cling to her far too skinny legs. Legs that were not this skinny before, but after a month of hardly eating, I’m sure she has lost a lot of weight.
I frown. I need the clothes off of her, but I don’t want this to be a fight. She’s exhausted, and my temper is tired of being tested. I’m not used to anyone disobeying my commands. She will learn to follow my demands, but it will take time.
Today, I want her clean, in new clothes, and fed. Then I will busy myself in work or spend my night jerking off while I try to be patient and not claim her pussy tonight.
I leave her on my bed, knowing full well she will try to get up and make a run for it. My bathroom is good sized. Not huge, but it has a large clawfoot tub I never use. Now I’m glad I never got rid of it to make more space in the bathroom.
I turn on the faucet in the tub and stick my hand under the water until it is warm, but not hot. I don’t think her skin can handle hot. I take my time returning to the bedroom. I lean against the door frame watching her as it takes everything in her to scoot herself to the edge of the bed.
“What is your plan once you are standing?”
Her body jumps at the sound of my voice. She looks up with a frown.
I smile. “What’s your plan? I know you don’t have a weapon. You haven’t figured out where I keep my guns yet. You can barely walk. If you run, I’d get you back in five minutes. What’s your plan?”
“Dante didn’t find me in five minutes when I ran.”
I nod. “True, but then you weren’t the one that planned your escape. I did.”
Her frown deepens, and the determination in her eyes grows stronger. “You did not plan my escape, I did.”
I smirk. “I had my team call, Dante, to distract him so you could escape. I made sure no one was in that building or parking lot. I made sure he didn’t find you.”
“I escaped on my own.”
“Fine. You made it down an elevator, through a parking lot, and into the woods. If it weren’t for me, you would have died in those woods or Dante would’ve found you.”
She folds her arms across her chest, hiding her view of her breasts from me.
My lips thin, but I don’t frown. I don’t want her to see my disappointment at her hiding her body from me.
“What’s your plan? You aren’t escaping. You aren’t strong enough. So I would recommend you let me help you clean up, you eat some food, and you rest. And then, when you’ve healed, you can try an escape again. Okay, sweetheart?”
Her jaw twitches when I say ‘sweetheart.’ She clearly doesn’t like nicknames. But she doesn’t say anything.
“I’m going to remove your clothes and help you into the tub so we can clean the filth off you.”
I walk to her not giving her a choice in the matter as I grab the hem of her T-shirt. She keeps her arms crossed and I give her a stern look.
“Do you want to waste energy fighting me on this? You want to be clean. And I can’t leave you alone in the bathtub. You’d drown. So let me help you.”
Slowly, she lifts her arms and lets me remove her shirt. She doesn’t shudder or hide when my eyes rake over her body. She’s used to being naked in front of men.
My cock grows, but it stills every time a new bruise or injury is revealed. I don’t think there is one area of her skin that hasn’t been touched by that monster.
I kneel down in front of her as I grab the waistband of his boxers. She lifts her hips the tiniest bit as I pull them off her. My eyes go to her beautiful cunt. Needing to see it. It’s glorious. But then my eyes see the large bruise on the inside of her thigh. I see the red cuts around her ankles and wrists where she’s been tied up too tightly. I see the way her knee bends at an awkward angle, clearly not set correctly.
Fuck.
Her body is more damaged than I ever imagined possible. I don’t know how her body hasn’t already shut down from the pain.
I hoped to see the naked body of the beautiful woman who fell into my lap and begged for my help. Now that body is so scarred, there are only remnants left. She needs to heal.
My cock stiffens at the sight of her nipples hardening in the brisk air.
Damn, cock.
I can’t fuck her. Not here. Not now. I’m better than this.
Our gazes meet, exchanging too many feelings. I hate feelings. I don’t do feelings. Not anymore. I’ve spent the last few years shut off from the world. The only emotion I ever felt was anger and revenge.
Now, looking at Gia as I stand over her, she stirs a feeling I haven’t felt in years. I can’t quite place it. I don’t know what the feeling is called. I hate it. I want it to go away. But I need to wash away any sign of Dante from her body. Or at least, what I can wash away. I know I can’t remove the bruises or scars. Or the mental images from her mind.
I see the same emotion in Gia’s eyes. Revenge is what she runs on. It’s what has kept her alive, but there is something different now.
“Thank you,” she says quietly.
I still. She shouldn’t thank me. Not until she understands what I require of her. Not until she knows who I am. But I recognize it as the feeling in her eyes. She’s thankful. Her eyes say she’s scared to say the words, but she says them because it releases her from any guilt over what comes next.
I feel the reflection of emotion in myself. I’m grateful I have her. That I could save her, whatever that means.
I will accept that I did save her. Dante was set on killing her. Doing everything he could to get to that point and push her over the edge to darkness until her body stopped working, her mind shut down, and she vanished into nothing. If I hadn’t saved her, I’m not sure she would have survived another week. Definitely not another month.
“You’re welcome,” I say, finally admitting what I’ve done.
Gia moves to get off the bed but then stops herself. She looks up at me with her dopey sad eyes. Her eyes say sad, but her long curling eyelashes say beautiful. I could get lost in the length of her lashes.
She exhales deeply, but it comes out more of a huff of frustration.
“Caspian, will you please help me to the bath?”
I catch my breath in my throat. Of all the things I expected her to say, I never expected her to ask for my help. I don’t know what I did to earn her trust, but at this moment, she’s giving it to me.
I don’t say a word. I put one hand under her frail legs and the other under her arms. I lift her, feeling every bone in her body pressing into my chest as I carry her.
I’ve fantasized about carrying her naked since I first saw her. But this is the opposite of what I wanted. This is me taking care of her. This will hurt her worse than any physical thing I could do for her. She can’t feel anything when it comes to me. She can’t like me, or be grateful for me, or love me.
I place her into the warm water of the bath, carefully lowering her as her hands grasp onto the side of the tub to keep herself upright. I turn the faucet off as the water covers her breasts.
I kneel next to the tub. I can’t leave her alone because she could drown, I tell myself. No matter how weak Gia’s body is now, she would never let herself drown. She’s too strong for that. Her spirit won’t allow it.
Gia closes her eyes and lays her head against the back of the tub, letting the warm water go to work on her body and soul. The water immediately turns a light brown color as the caked on dirt washes off her skin.
I can’t keep watching.
My hand reaches out to grab the soap from her, gripping her hand over the soap resting against her chest.
Her eyes meet mine, and I think she’s going to fight me. Tell me she can wash herself. But she slowly relinquishes the bar of soap to me.
My teeth clench together, and my cock is hard as a rock as I move the soap over her chest to wash off the dirt. She watches me a moment. Staring into my eyes like she will find the greatest treasure if she keeps looking. Luckily, my waist is hidden from her view by the side of the tub. She can’t see how hard I am for her and how desperate I am to become Dante. To rip her from the tub and fuck her. If Dante hadn’t already hurt her so much, I would probably be doing just that.
Slowly, Gia closes her eyes and rests her head back while I move as slowly as I can to wash her. Applying just enough pressure to clean away the dirt, while careful not to press too hard and cause her more pain.
Every once in a while she bites her lip, winces, or lets out a low moan when I press too hard. But for the most part, I feel like I’m in more pain than she is.
“I need you to sit up so I can wash your back.”
She opens her eyes slowly, as if even doing something that simple hurts. I’ve never been in that much physical pain before, so it’s hard for me to understand. I do understand emotional distress, however.
She grabs onto the side of the tub again and starts pulling while I put my hand on the smoothness of her back and push her into a sitting position. Her entire body trembles as I wash her back. I move quickly so she can relax again.
I put the soap away and grab the nearby bottle of shampoo. It’s not a feminine scent. It’s the kind I use. Fresh and manly. She will smell like me if I use it, and I can’t resist.
She notices the shampoo and dunks her head under the water to soak her long tresses. I squeeze a couple of drops of the shampoo into my hand and then massage it into her hair, hoping it will work on the tangles as well as the dirt.
