Anguish

by Elizabeth Knox

  “Shit, if you’re not calling dibs. I sure as hell am.”

  I clench my jaw and stare across from me, my body heating up all of a sudden. I’m not sure why, if it’s just because he’s said that he wants her and I can’t bear the thought of it, or if it’s because in my head, she’s already mine. I’d be lying if I didn’t admit to the latter. “She’s our boss’ daughter. It’d be unprofessional,” I seethe out, knowing all too well that I couldn’t give a flying fuck what Kristof would think. It’s not like he’d be around long enough to protest that much anyway. He’s ten seconds away from death’s doorstep. Plus, he chose me to guard her for a reason. He knows I’m the best. Who better to be with her than someone who can protect her in the way that no other man can?

  I smirk to myself; the only thing I don’t have going for me is the fact I’m American.

  “If you don’t make a move soon, Duncan, I’m going to. She looks just like that fucking beaut’ Asa.” I roll my eyes at him, and, grabbing my glass in front of me I take down the rest of my Guinness and leave some cash on the table. Standing, James just can’t let me go. He insists on poking the bear. “Let the games begin.”

  I can’t help myself. I wrap my hand around his throat and tighten my grip, shocking the ever loving hell out of him. Meeting my eyes with his own, I stare him down and speak clearly. “There is no game when it comes to her. Know your place and that you’ve already lost. You weren’t ever in the running and never will be.” I release him and walk towards the door, needing the chilled London air to run across my skin. Hopeful that it’ll cool me down enough when I get back to the townhouse.

  A five minute walk and I’m back safe and sound in the townhome. I take the side entrance in through the garden and stop in the surveillance room. We have cameras everywhere in this place, and I mean everywhere. You can’t even take a shit in this joint without someone looking at you. Kristof is a smart man and wants every inch of his home covered. I can’t blame him for that, especially considering he’s lost almost everyone he holds dear to him. Willow being the only exception.

  I look over the monitors, checking the kitchens, living area, study, hallways, until I’m overviewing the garden cams, and then my eyes float to Willow. She’s asleep in her bed, cuddled under her comforter. She must be damn cold; it isn’t that brisk up here yet, but women always get a chill about them. That’s what my Momma used to say at least.

  After I feel like I’ve properly looked at the monitors and made sure that there is no imminent danger, I conduct a perimeter check and go upstairs. For some reason I have a gut feeling, like something isn’t right. Just for the hell of it, I turn around and walk to Willow’s room. I don’t knock because I don’t give a shit if she screams, or bitches at me. I’m only doing my job. I place my hand on her door knob and creak the door open, I wait for a moment and watch, not hearing anything.

  That doesn’t make me feel any better.

  I take a few steps forward and come closer to her bed, waiting to hear anything come from her mouth. She looks like one of those girls who whispers in their sleep, so I wait, and nothing. At this point, I know something’s up. Walking forward even closer, I stand directly next to her bed and put my hand on it, pulling it backwards.

  Motherfucker!

  A couple pillows are thrown together making it look like a human body. I fell for the biggest trick in the book. I wonder how long she’s known about the cameras…

  Chapter Eight

  Willow

  I seethe as I stare at the four walls around me. I have never felt more stuck in my life or more infuriated. Firstly, this is the twenty-first century, and I am not in some middle eastern country where these kinds of arrangements are still commonplace. Arranged marriages are outdated and plain abusive, if you ask me. But what angers me the most is the fact that my father has never wanted me. I was useless, a secret he had to push away to keep his real family from remembering his transgressions. Yet, suddenly, I am his only hope and expected to just jump in line like he is doing me a favor. If there is one thing being his non-existent daughter has taught me, it is that I don’t want any part of this mafia life.

  I stand up and pace the floor, a little frustrated at the fact that this rich man has me in a tiny room in a townhome.

  I go straight for the closet and run my fingers over the various fabrics of fancy clothes in there. Apparently, everything had already been prepared for me to be here despite the fact that I didn’t know I was being watched until last minute.

  Even if I hate all of this, I can’t deny I would look sexy in some of the dresses I have been provided. I don’t feel guilty at all as I strip down and pull on one of the shimmery ones that comes only to my mid-thigh. It fits me like a glove.

  I walk over to the small vanity in the room and find a small brush, running it through my hair and fixing all the knots.

  My subconscious knows what I am up to long before I truly do. But with what they had done to me, locked me up like a prisoner basically under the watchful eye of this scheming, lying American guy, it was par for the course.

  I finish off the look; makeup, heels, the whole thing. If these kinds of things are going to be placed in front of me, I might as well take advantage of them. Especially if I am stuck under his roof.

  I sometimes used to wonder how his "real" children lived. I am no longer envious of them, but I deserve as much as they had.

  I go and press my ear to the door that leads out into the main house. I can’t hear much, at least not from my father or Duncan. I hope that they had gone off to do business or maybe passed out. I don’t really care as long as they aren't paying as much attention to me as they had been.

  I want out.

  Not that I think I will get away with it for long. I doubt that he would let me just disappear; run away. And I don’t exactly have the means. All of my money is tied up in my pastry shop, which I don’t even know if it would be running without me right now. I don’t know what will become of it. But I need a break, and I need to show them that I am not so easy to control. It doesn’t matter what they want, I will continue to be difficult, getting my little victories. Maybe then, they will just get tired of me and find someone else. A distant cousin, a friend, I don’t really give a damn.

  It feels a bit silly as I go to the window, moving the curtains out of the way, and slowly slide it open so it won’t alert anyone with a noise. It feels like something a teenager would be doing. Maybe it feels too normal too. After all, most people sneak out because they want to go to a party they shouldn't be at or something, or to see a boy. I am sneaking out because my mafia family is holding my hostage so I can marry some random asshole and take over the family criminal business.

  Yeah, totally normal.

  Finally, I get it open and breathe a sigh of relief as nothing has changed. The last thought I have before I climb out is that a place like this likely has cameras everywhere, and they will probably catch me that way. I just have to hope that they won’t figure out for a while where I’ve gone.

  I luckily come out the side of the building, shutting the window almost all the way as not to get locked out if I am lucky enough not to get caught.

  I am a bit spotty with my directions, but I know that an old friend of mine works at a pub nearby. Hopefully, he will be on his shift right now. I needed a good stiff drink and a distraction. Someone to talk to for that matter that isn’t wrapped up in guns, money, drugs, or women.

  I finally get out of the line of fancy townhomes and out the gate, getting my bearing just in time for the drizzle to begin. There were only two types of weather here as far as I remembered from the sporadic times I had been here, and those were stifling hot, or raining. It was just something you had to get used to.

  I roll my eyes as I make my way to the pub, which is not too far, though I will likely have to take a cab back because it will be more than just this mist when I come out. I can tell by the greyness of the sky above me and the thickness in the air.

  I walk
in, smiling when I see him in profile, serving someone else up at the bar. I wonder if he will even remember me. I have been so busy with the pastry shop I have lost contact with many of those I used to know while settling into my new life. It was part of growing up.

  I approach the bar and slide onto a stool, trying to be as modest as possible in this tight, short dress. It is a beautiful emerald green with sequins that shimmer under the dim lamps of the pub. I know I am drawing more than one pair of eyes, but I ignore it. Not that the thought of having a little fun with one of these guys after a couple of drinks is off the table. It would certainly be a big FU to daddy dearest. But I am not interested in anything more. I like things to happen naturally in their own time. Fate, I guess. Though, I know it is silly to believe in such things. It would also be pretty fucked up that my fate directly involved being the bastard daughter of a mafia king and shoved aside until I was necessary.

  He approaches me, my friend, Jackson. He had grown up here. I knew him pretty well. I was the first person he came out to when we were very young. "What can I get you?" he asks, not really looking at me.

  I smirk at him. "Got any good rum, Jackson?" He looks up at that and then grins.

  "Well, I'll be fucked. I never thought I would see you here again," he says in his thick accent which always got him any guy he wanted, at least for a night. I always thought it was cute myself.

  "I would have agreed with you there, but looks like I was needed." I don’t feel like going into any more detail, and Jackson gives me a knowing look. He knows who my father iss. There is no more explanation needed.

  "So, you're in need of something strong, then." It wasn’t a question, and I nod.

  He passes me a shot and starts making me a mixed drink as well. I knock it back and go for the straw as he passes me the mixed drink. It tastes fruity but is definitely not skimpy on the alcohol.

  I wave to him. "Keep them coming." He smiles and goes to help someone else for a moment.

  I didn’t know how long it was before he ended up on a stool next to me. I didn’t know after how many drinks either, but by then I had started taking it slow. I didn’t want to get super drunk, just take the edge off. I held my drinks pretty well, though, at least.

  “I don’t want to make a scene,” Duncan says, a fake toothy grin on his face. He is a damn good actor, isn’t he? I want to spit in his face, but I doubt it would get me any brownie points right now. “But if I have to, I will. Wrap it up, and walk out of here.”

  He then gets up and waits for me by the door, a knowing look as Jackson comes over to check on me. “What’s up with the American asshole? Should I be worried?” he questions, raising an eyebrow.

  “He’s my glorified babysitter. Looks like I’ve been caught,” I grumble.

  Jackson scoffs. “Well, good luck with that. You’re welcome here whenever you can spring yourself. And you can consider your tab covered.”

  I sigh and thank him before sliding down and tugging my dress down, the heels feeling like a bad idea now that I am a bit tipsy, and as I get to the door I realize it isn't just raining, it is pouring. “Shit,” I curse under my breath as I am told to walk in front of Duncan. He has me go into a dark alley, and I can see the hint of a shiny black car on the other side; likely there to take us both back to the townhouse. The thunder rumbles above, and I look up just before being caught off guard, being pushed into the brick wall as the rain soaks my dark hair and makes me feel like a drowned cat.

  "Have you lost your damn mind!" Duncan hollers, getting in my face, his hand above my head so that I am trapped in.

  I glare at him. I am not in the mood to have this out, but if he wants to, I'll let him know what the fuck I think of all of this. "No, I think all of you have lost your damn minds. In the world I live in, the world I was shoved into because I wasn't worthy of daddy dearest, people choose who, if, and when to marry. They choose what they do for a living. And they sure as hell do not get kidnapped and taken to another country against their will without consequences from the law. I want no part in this, and I don’t care what he pays you, what you're doing by helping him is wrong."

  I am sure the back of the dress is likely ruined from the rough bricks as well.

  "You may not have gotten the best of him, and I won’t condone that, but he has done everything for me. It’s not about the damn money. What’s wrong is all those people out there in the world who don’t deserve what is handed to them, good or bad. Being in this world gives us the power to change it. And whether you wanted it or not, you were born into it. No amount of separating yourself by miles will make you any less a part of this," he spits, fire in his eyes.

  "You shouldn’t give a damn about me. I am nobody. I was fine being a nobody."

  If I had been totally sober and the rain wasn't playing tricks on my eyesight, I might have caught what he was doing in time to stop it in some way. But I am trapped the moment his hand wraps around my neck to hold me there, his lips crashing against mine like I am giving him the breath of life.

  The rain comes down over us as his lips force mine to move, force me to feel something. I hate him for the way he had been watching me, the way he tricked me, but damn was he is a good kisser.

  Chapter Nine

  Duncan

  I woke up and stretched, my alarm blaring at me much too early, But honestly, I needed to be up at the crack of dawn to keep an eye on this chick. She was fire, she was sneaky, and she was determined. Those things were not something easily containable, and I was the only person I trusted to keep watch on her. And I surely would have to keep a much closer eye on her after last night. Not that I minded, considering how she looked. Even if she was my boss' daughter, I was still a warm-blooded male. I still notice the way her skin is like porcelain, her hair as black as night and silky, her body the right mix of thin and curves.

  I walk from my room, straight into the surveillance room I had set up in the house. I lean over the screens and searched for where Willow might be. Maybe she is still in bed, or maybe she is trying to beat all of us awake to try and get out again. I will have to get some locks on that damn window of hers so she can’t get out.

  I scoff as I watched her come out of the bathroom, a towel around her neck and donning some of the athletic clothes that had been purchased for her by another one of Domn’s employees before she got here. I'd have to thank them for getting something that hugged her ass so well.

  Looks like I am going to have an early morning workout.

  I walk back into my room to slip on some long shorts and my Nikes. I don’t bother with a shirt. She'd like the view better anyway; maybe be more cooperative.

  I come down the stairs, taking them two at a time and trying to stay light on my feet as I know few others in the place are up or on duty yet. I also don’t want to alert her I am coming. Maybe it makes me a prick, but I want to annoy her a bit. She is hot when she is pissed.

  I come into the room to find she is on the treadmill, getting up to speed. I figure she is taking out some kind of aggression or stress on the thing. I can’t blame her for that. Her situation is shitty, but she could take it and do so many things with it. She would have to. Her father won't have it any other way, and if she doesn’t give in, then his death will bring a slew of enemies she doesn’t want, men much worse than her father could ever be. One day, she will have to understand that.

  I sit down on the machine next to her, immediately going for working my legs while glancing over at her to wait for her reaction.

  "Is there a good reason you won't give me any space or privacy? It is six in the damn morning, and I am working out. That's all," she snaps. It only makes my smile broader.

  "It's my job to protect you, Willow. I am under orders here, and it seems you're kind of a hard one to protect. So, I will be here whatever you're doing, wherever you go," I tell her making my tone serious. I couldn’t be a jokester when I was trying to get it through that thick skull of hers, even as much as I enjoy a good laugh.

 
; I watch her set her jaw and increase the speed; now she is running. "Sorry if I got your panties all in a twist last night. Even if we kiss, you're still my job to watch OVER."

  Her eyes shot daggers at me even as she continued to run. She is good and pissed, more pissed than she had been able to be the night before when she was under the influence. I don’t know whether to laugh or prepare myself for a brawl. I know she is a smart girl, she could easily have words that sting, and she probably knows that even if she hit me, I likely would never harm her. I know what will happen to me if I do.

  "That kiss last night was incredibly stupid on your part," she says finally. It came out matter of fact. She was so damn confident about that, I had to know.

  "What makes you say that?" I inquire as I move onto my biceps.

  "I am supposed to be finding a Romanian man to marry. I would think if you're watching me or protecting, or whatever it is you are actually doing here, you would do everything to support that. You are clearly not Romanian."

  I tighten my jaw and let the bar snap up loudly back into place. I don’t like where she is going with this. She is challenging me. I can’t think of any woman dumb enough to do that. "Obviously, but so what?" I ask, my tone belying the anxiety I feel.

  "If you don’t leave me alone and give me some space, I might just have to tell my father that you kissed me knowing that I would belong to someone else."

  I lose control. I can’t help it. I stand up like some crazy superhero and lift her right off that goddamn treadmill with it still running, her kicking and screaming the whole way to her bedroom. I throw her down onto her bed and stand over her. No woman, especially one I am supposed to be keeping out of danger, is going to threaten me like that, threaten my job, my life.

  "Don't threaten me, Willow. I will always come out on top." I say it as I look over her body so she knows just what I mean before walking out and closing the door behind me. Looks like it ‘s time for a cold shower.