by DD Prince
“Mornin’. Have fun last night?”
She opens her mouth, about to start firing questions at me.
“Nature calls,” I sing out and head to the bathroom down the hall from my room. When I come out of the bathroom after my shower, I see she’s put a cup of coffee on my dresser with a buttered blueberry muffin. It’s like she knows I need space and she’s, thankfully, giving it to me.
I successfully avoid my sister for the next few hours until the mid-afternoon when Dario knocks on my bedroom door.
Dario starts to tell me that Will had something come up and he couldn’t be my bodyguard any longer. Dario would find someone else.
As he’s talking, Angie comes in, listening to him talk to me about Will, and then she elbows him with a pointed look.
“Everything okay last night?” Dario switches the direction of the conversation, obviously with the elbow as his cue.
I nod, “Yeah, perfect.”
“Lex spent the night?”
I nod again.
“Holl… an engagement ring?” Angie asks, wide-eyed.
I make myself smile, “Yep. We’re official.”
She grabs my hand and looks up at me, stunned. I hide a wince. My wrists are both bruised. I have long sleeves on and I move closer so that her yanking my hand hopefully doesn’t make my sleeve ride up.
I can’t read Dario very well. He’s got his eyebrows up.
I fake my joy. I don’t feel joy. I felt so sad and alone, more sad and alone than I’ve felt in a very long time.
“Maid of honor duty?” I ask with a big smile.
“Wait… So, he came, got engaged to you, but left. After putting a knife to Will’s throat? Why? What’s going on? You’ve been in the dumps for a month and he shows up and now it’s just fine and dandy?”
“Yeah. Yep. It is,” I tell her, “He needed time to figure some things out and he did, so, yeah. Fine and dandy.”
Why am I lying? I can’t tell them what happened. I can’t put Dario in a state of mind that might mean danger for him. I don’t know enough to know who is the bigger badass but I’ve seen where we live and what’s around us and compared to Alessandro’s compound and the stuff I’ve seen down there? To me, there’s no doubt in my mind that I do not want to give Dario any reason to go head to head with Alessandro. I’m not putting my sister in danger of losing her husband. Because I suspect Alessandro wouldn’t hesitate in hurting him.
“Then why did he leave you here? And why did he dip in and out like that, gone in twelve hours?”
“None of your business,” I say, mirroring her body language, which is arms crossed, eyebrows all knitted together. “If you can’t handle me being here and not knowing every damn thing about why, then maybe Dario should call him to come pick me up.”
She tries to ask more questions. I feign a headache and they leave me be.
And then I get a real headache. And my heart aches, too.
Month Two
Alessandro
Rocco drops an envelope on my desk.
“What’s this?” I glance at it.
“Photos of her, taken yesterday.”
“Anything going on I should know about?”
“She leaves the house most days. Tino Rossi looks to be a good choice as her bodyguard. He watches her like a hawk. He made our guy, Coulter did not.
We chilled him out before he took out our guy. As for how he’s with her? He’s not overly friendly. He’s one hundred per cent all business all the time. He’s not on night watch unless she needs to go out, which is rare so far, but there are two men on surveillance at Ferrano’s property during the night. She’s started teaching a painting class twice a week. Twice a week she also goes to yoga with her sister and one of the other Ferrano girls. Other than girl shit with the sister, she’s in Ferrano’s new house, helping her sister decorate and shit. Except two days ago, she started volunteering at a hospital. I don’t know the schedule yet. Finding out.”
He’s told me shit I already know, but I listen anyway. I’ve already given Tino a bonus for spotting our tail on him. I was impressed. Rocco then fills me in on a couple other non-Holly things and then as he goes to leave, I lift the big yellow envelope and slide the photos out.
“You’ll see there what she did yesterday,” he adds as he closes the door.
I look down at the first photo and my lip curls. I call out, “Book me a fucking flight.”
***
“Tino? Lex here. Where is she?”
“Hey boss man. Art class. I’m outside in my ride. She gets out in fifteen. I’m taking her to the grocery store to pick shit up for her sister and then taking her to the house.”
“I’ll get her.”
“Say again?” he queries.
“I’ve got this. I’m three minutes out. My driver’ll pull in, black Mercedes, you pull out. I’ll call you later tonight and you can pick her up from me and take her back to Ferrano’s. Unless you have plans. You do, I’ll bring her back.”
“I did have plans but I can reschedule,” he says.
“No need. I’ll bring her back to Dario. I wanna see you before I leave town. I’ll text.”
“I’ll be wherever you need me to be.”
He’s valuable. I’d hire him again. He and his brother Nino were both high up on the security ladder for Tom Ferrano Sr. before he died. They’ve started their own security company.
Young Will didn’t take well to my making sure he understood Holly was mine. His reaction and subsequent departure told me all I needed to know. He was starting to have feelings for her.
How could he not, spending a month with her? She has this infectious laughter, this shining light or some shit that surrounds her like a glowing aura. It sounds ridiculous but I know it to be true. Her purity either grounds me and gives me the fucking feels or it sends me into a blind rage. Usually the latter.
My driver pulls up and Tino watches until I roll the window down and show him it’s me. He nods. I jerk my chin up at him. He leaves. And I wait.
A few minutes later, she steps out of the building. She’s wearing faded distressed jeans, high heeled brown boots, and a long light tan suede coat with a collar the same color as her hair. She looks like she belongs on a runway. She has a brown leather messenger bag on cross body. She’s got on a light pink winter hat with a fucking pom-pom on top and matching pink mittens. Her lips are the same pink as the hat and mittens. She’s got a spring in her step as she steps out but then she looks around and pivots on her boot. She’s looking for Tino.
I hit the button and step out of the car. She sees me and her eyes widen. I quickly erase the distance between us and get to her and pin her against the wall and rip the hat off her head.
My eyes and mouth are both betraying my emotions. I feel it. And I don’t give a shit. I’m holding her jaw and my own jaw is flexing as I breathe hard, glaring at her.
She’s lopped off at least a fuckin’ foot and a half of hair. It’s just barely touching her shoulders. And I’m fucking pissed about it.
“Hola,” she greets snottily and she’s got fire in her eyes.
I raise my eyebrows. She glares at me. Fucking glares at me!
“You little bitch.” I grab her hand and half drag her to the car. She’s running, her boots clicking on the pavement as she tries to keep up with me. I push her inside and she falls in. I give her a shove and get in beside her. The car pulls away from the curb. My driver won’t flinch. He’s with a service that understands and knows better than to flinch at anything he sees.
She’s panting. Her face is red. And there’s so much fire in her eyes that it takes me by surprise.
The privacy glass is up but it wouldn’t matter if it weren’t.
I grab her by the back of the coat, fling her across my lap, and wallop her ass over her jeans. She squeals and struggles.
“The fuck?” I demand.
“It’s been a month. A bloody month!” she screams at the floor because I’ve got her pinned over my lap.
“This how I get your attention, right? Right? Leave me again and I will shave it off. All of it. And I swear to God, I will take Spanish lessons.”
“Are you fucking kidding me right now?” I’m seething. Has she fucking lost her mind?
She scrambles off my lap and is on her knees on the seat beside me, right in my face.
“You come and you put a ring on my finger, put a knife to Will’s throat, making him quit, and then after holding me all night long despite that horrible thing you did to me, you just leave me. For four weeks! I cut my hair and you’re here the next day! Magically. I’m so fucking mad at you!” She shoves my chest with pink mittens on her hands. Fucking pink mittens, for fuck sakes.
I grab her by the face and back her up until she’s lying on the car seat, me on top of her.
“Who do you think you’re talking to here, Holly? You think you can talk to me like I’m some schmuck? Like I’m fuckin’ nobody? You haven’t even caught a glimpse of who I am yet, little girl, and here you are with all this attitude, this filthy mouth? I should take you home and put you in the basement with the other bitches. Put you in line.”
She’s gone from huffing to cowering and I’m right in her face. I’ve pinned her to the seat and I’m on top of her, holding her wrists above her head. And it hits me, this position she’s in. Her eyes are wide with fear and her body is shaking and I’m hard as a fucking rock. I grab a handful of her hair and pain shoots through my chest. Of course she’s still taking my breath away. She looks older, more grown up, and she’s gorgeous. But she’s done this to defy me, to get my attention. To get me to come for her.
Well-played.
Instead of cowering in fear after the lesson I thought I taught her that night, she tries to go head-to-head with me. Not smart.
The car stops. And just in time, too, because I’m this close to ripping those jeans down and sinking inside of her. We’re in front of the hotel I booked my room in. I back off her. She stays, lying on the seat.
“Get up,” I order.
She scrambles up and looks like she’s trying to catch her breath.
“Behave yourself. I fuckin’ mean it.” I warn and grab her hand and pull her out of the car and she jogs to keep pace with me as we enter the hotel.
We’re in my room before long, because I barely register anything from the car to the room, I’m so focused on holding my shit together.
I’ve had a bad fucking month, no two bad months, because my father didn’t only find out that I killed Andrea, he also found out why. And in typical Sandro the Butcher fashion, he’s attempting to use it to his advantage.
Women are a weakness if you let them be, Alessandro. And now everyone knows that she is yours. My son. Weak. How do you think it makes you look? How you think it makes me look? You know how dangerous she is to you, right? I should get rid of this problem for you. Save you from your weakness, ah?
I don’t bother pointing out to him that what I do doesn’t make him look like anything, because he’s supposed to be dead. He thinks he’s like a king of legend. Notorious. He’s right in that people think I’m like him. I have no choice but to let that be. Otherwise, I’ll suffer the consequences he doesn’t hesitate to remind me of whenever he has the opportunity to spew his fuckin’ poison at me. But after years of playing that role, it’s probably who I’ve become.
When I finally find him? He’ll suffer. But I won’t kill him. I’ll do better than that.
Even once he’s suffered, it doesn’t matter. It’s already too late for me. I’m ruined. And it’s too late for Holly, too. She just doesn’t know it yet.
Holly
We’re in this gorgeous hotel room and he’s so mad that he’s like a raging bull. Nostrils flaring, smoke might as well be coming out of his ears. He’s hurt my hand by gripping it too tight and my rear end is still on fire from when he smacked it.
My heart is racing and yet… I feel alive. I feel alive for the first time in weeks.
I take off my mittens.
He slams the door and then he pushes me and I land on my back on the big bed.
It took me a week after he left last time to peel myself off the proverbial floor. I had to move forward. I was pining to death. And now that I’ve seen him, I’ve started to get angry. I can see that my anger is no match for his.
His hand goes to his belt. My jaw drops. But I dig deep for some bravery.
“What’s it gonna be?” I ask. “Another spanking? Belt this time? Gonna gag me with your dick while you fuck my throat? Gonna rip my butt open again?” I hiss at him. I jump up and tear my coat off and throw it.
“That’s a dirty mouth, baby,” he snickers and his eyes sparkle like he finds it a turn-on or something.
“Wonder why? You think I’m pure as the virgin snow, but I grew up with a cracked junkie drunk for a mother,” I challenge, “Go for it. Punish me,” I invite, wiggling my fingers at him.
He glares and his hands stop moving at his fly.
“No? No de-flowering today? Guess you’re waiting until the happiest day of my life, right? My wedding night?”
“You want a gentle lover? Some sweet and romantic gesture from a man who takes his time to open up those flower petals? Well, that's not me. You said you love me? If you want that from me, then you don’t love me. You love who you want me to be.”
“Actually, no. I’d rather you be real with me."
"Right," he rolls his eyes.
"I would," I insist. "I want to feel everything you have been saving to give me. I’ve ached for you since I knew it was you who saved me, Alessandro, and when you saved me from the fire and I was in your arms, that ache turned to a burn for me. It’s burning a hole in me.”
"You've got an unrealistic view of who I am, Holly. Didn’t you figure that out on your birthday? Didn’t you figure it out when you flipped this fuckin’ switch? When I saw you last month?"
“No,” I say. "Who you showed me last time? That wasn’t you. That was who you’re trying to make me think you are."
He stares at me. He’s seething. But, so am I.
“And I didn’t flip it,” I tell him.
He looks at me like I’m insane, so I explain.
“Your dead girlfriend Andrea flipped it when she tried to kill me, when I jumped out that window, and you caught me, saving me. She flipped it. And I don't think I have an unrealistic view. I didn’t imagine you being a knight in shining armor, gallantly taking me off into the sunset on a white horse, Alessandro. I imagined you devouring me like a hungry wolf. Because that’s how you look at me; like it’s taking every ounce of your self-control to not rip into my throat."
“That’s exactly what it is,” he says.
We stare at one another for a long moment.
He swallows and looks away, like I’ve affected him, maybe.
He speaks without looking at me, “You talk a big game. You think you're ready for me? You don’t know, little flower, what you’re asking for. You have no idea how bad the big bad wolf truly is.”
"Well, why don't you show me then? Who are you, Alessandro? Show me who you are. "
“You don’t know what you ask for.” He’s still not looking at me.
“Take me to Mexico, then. Put me in the basement. It wouldn’t hurt any more than this.” I shrug.
“Who told you about that cunt, Andrea? Mena, right?”
I don’t say anything. He rolls his eyes, “Fucking Jimena. And you are so fucking naïve, Holly. You think being with your sister and her family is a punishment? You don’t know punishment. Yet.”
I sniffle. Right. Having my ass ripped open on my birthday, almost choking to death on his dick last time I saw him. Being locked in a room for two years in almost solitary confinement and now being sent away, not knowing my fate, if that’s not real punishment, I don’t know what is.
“Yet,” he repeats, his eyes meeting mine. And I shiver at the implication.
He moves toward me and I stand there, strong, brave. Stupid. He grabs me by the
beltloops and works my fly undone, his face an inch from mine, his hair in his eyes, his jaw ticking with anger. He pushes my pants and panties down my hips and that whole time, I’m staring into his eyes, my heart racing, my throat dry.
He backs up, sits on the bed, pulling me by the elbow. I trip on my pants and wind up over his knee with a gasp.
A long moment passes.
“You forget what it’s like down there, don’t you?” His voice is dark, sinister. His fingers dance along the skin of my butt and I get goosebumps.
“I remember,” I say and now I’m looking off into space, my mind filled with images of that underground hellhole. “How could I forget? And this hurts so much. At least if I’m there, I’m near you. Maybe I’ll see you.”
His hand cracks across my bare ass and I jump. He holds me still and then his hand moves slowly up and down my ass.
“What in the fuck is the matter with you?” he asks in a sinister whisper. “What the fuck makes you tick?”
I shake my head. “I could ask you the same thing. That you even have those women in the basement.”
He laughs. Laughs! And I can’t say more about that. I won’t. Because I don’t want him to minimize how awful it is. I’ll just be an ostrich about it. I don’t pretend to understand it and I couldn’t.
I don’t want to think about sex slaves in his basement, being broken so that he can sell them. That he’s probably touched some of them the way he touched me. That he’s maybe been touching them now that I’ve been gone two months.
God. My heart…
“Andrea helped us along on this inevitable journey because she forced you to acknowledge that I was in that room. That I’m real, not just an idea.”
His fingers dig into the flesh of my ass punishingly and I pull my lips tight and stay still.
We’re both still for a long moment.
“When will you take me home?”
“I’m taking you home tonight. Putting you in the fucking basement. That’s your home until I sell you, you disobedient bitch.”
“No, you won’t.”
“I won’t? What the fuck do you know?”
“I know you’re not gonna do that.”
