by Ella Miles
We both breathe heavily as he pushes me down in my seat. I expect I’m about to be punished for what I just did. I’m going to be hit and beaten until I’m barely standing when we make it to Italy. But I welcome the pain. It will distract me from the pain I feel in my heart.
“Where did you learn to shoot?”
I frown. “Why does it matter?”
“You don’t get to avoid my questions anymore. Answer me. Where did you learn to shoot?”
“I hired several different men at various shooting ranges to teach me.”
He sighs. “Well, you wasted your money. That was horrible. I’ll have to teach you how to shoot properly.”
My eyes widen. Why would he teach me how to shoot? Why would he do anything for me?
He laughs at my expression. “Your new life isn’t going to be as bad as you think it will be, Nina, no matter how short of time you have left. You will still be able to do some enjoyable things.”
“I’m not going to survive my time with your family, am I? Even if you teach me how to shoot? Even if I do everything right, I’m still going to die, aren’t I?”
Arlo lets go of my body, releasing me. “That depends on you.”
He stands up and starts undoing his buttoned-down shirt. He’s going to shoot me and kill me right here. He’s just acting calm to keep me calm.
I watch as he removes his shirt, and I think his abs might be even more magnificent than they were seven years ago. He looks even stronger, more powerful. And I thought he was strong before. Now, he looks invincible.
I suck in a breath. He’s going to rape me. I know it.
And then I see the blood as he removes his shirt. It spills out of his left shoulder. He doesn’t flinch or even seemed fazed by the blood pouring out of his shoulder.
He doesn’t seem angry or afraid that he’s about to die from blood loss. He doesn’t go to the front of the plane to signal an emergency landing when we get back over land. Instead, he walks to the back of the plane as he throws his bloodied shirt on the floor. He opens the door at the back and disappears inside, leaving me alone.
I take a deep breath as I realize that I might have missed his heart, but I hit him. I shot someone. And it could still result in his death.
I spot my gun lying carelessly on the floor. I pop out of my seat and run over to pick it up. It’s still loaded. I still have a chance to take Arlo out.
I hold the gun in my hand and start walking toward the back of the plane until I get to the door. I hesitate, but I don’t understand why. He’s already wounded. I don’t have to shoot him clearly in the heart. I just need to wound him again. The blood loss over the next few hours would do the rest. And then I could be free of at least one Carini. The worst of them anyway. The one who got me into this whole mess.
I throw the door open, shocked that he didn’t lock it, and see Arlo lounging on the bed. I glance at his shoulder and see the staples that he somehow placed there, already closing the wound I’d created. It’s no longer bleeding. The only risk of death now is an infection. And that could take weeks to kill him.
I aim the gun at him as he smirks.
“Come to kill me again?”
“Yes.”
“You’re never going to kill me, holding the gun like that. You can’t even tell what you are aiming at.”
“I shot you once. I can do it again. And again and again. For as many times as it takes to kill you.”
Arlo sits up just a little. “What’s this fascination with killing me? I know you don’t like me. I know I took you away from your true love or whatever. But, really, have I done anything that horrible to you other than give you the best sex of your life? Because I know Heath never fucked you like I did. I know that, even at his best, you still thought of me when you fucked him.”
I’m angry. My blood is boiling. My heart is racing as I point the gun at Arlo.
“You’re evil. You think I spent the last seven years just running and living in fear? No. I studied everything I could about your family. I read everything. I know exactly who you are, and I know exactly how to take you down. I’m not a naïve, obsessed girl anymore. I’m a woman scorned who will not be defeated.”
Arlo cocks his head to one side as he lies back. “And what are we? What makes us so bad that we deserve to be killed before we even lay a hand on you?”
“You are traffickers. You kidnap women and sell them as slaves. You are the worst kind of people.”
Arlo purses his lips as he nods. “You’re right. We are the worst kind of people. But we aren’t traffickers. We would never sell a person to another. What enjoyment would we get out of that?”
“You would get money.”
Arlo laughs. “And what would we do with the money? We already have more money than we know what to do with. We don’t need more money.”
I feel my hands drop a little, lowering the gun the tiniest bit, and then I quickly force my arms to rise again.
He raises an eyebrow. “You maybe should have worked on your arm strength a little more along with your shooting skills if your plan was to smuggle in a gun and shoot us all to death.”
I ignore his remark. I’m stronger than he thinks. That’s all that matters. Not his goading.
“You’re evil people who traffic women. You all deserve to die.”
“No, we are a powerful, ruthless family who has fought long and hard to earn the money and power that we control in Italy. We don’t always play by the rules. We don’t always fight fair. But, when it comes to taking someone’s life, we only take what is owed to us. We only take when a debt is owed.”
“And you saving my life means I have to give it up to you?”
“Yes. When we had to do what we did to save you, then yes. You have no idea how much you owe us.”
“Then, tell me.”
He laughs. “You’ll know plenty soon enough.”
My hands start shaking from holding the weight of the gun.
“Now, are you going to shoot me or not? Because I’d like to try to get some sleep before we land.”
I continue to hold the gun out, aiming it at his heart.
He sighs. “Well, at least step closer. If you are going to shoot me again, I’d rather you get a clean shot to the heart that instantly kills me instead of having to deal with the pain of getting shot over and over again in the arm or leg or wherever else your horrible aims lends itself.”
I step closer.
“Closer, Nina,” he commands.
I do. I climb onto the edge of the bed, and I aim at his heart. My hands tremble though, and I know I won’t get a clean shot off.
“Closer, Nina.”
I move closer to him. This is foolish. Stupid. But I keep moving closer until he grabs on to the barrel of the gun and places it against his chest, right over his heart.
I fall forward as he jerks the gun to him. My legs are straddling his hips, and my face hovers over his face as my hands clutch the gun to his heart.
“Shoot me. Kill me, Nina. End this before it even starts.”
When he speaks, he seems so sincere. He seems so hurt. Like he’s in so much unbearable pain that he can’t stand to live another second. Yet he patched up the wound on his arm. He won’t kill himself, but he won’t stop me from killing him. I wouldn’t be killing him for me. I would be killing him to end his pain.
“No,” I say, dropping the gun on the floor.
“That is the most foolish thing you have done yet, Nina.”
“You’re probably right. But then again, I’ve done a lot of foolish things in my life.”
I feel his cock harden beneath me. I’m turning him on. I should move off of him. Retreat to my seat on the plane. But I need to understand more about Arlo. I need to understand what makes him tick, and then maybe it will be enough to save myself.
But, before I can say anything, he rolls me over and pins me to the bed beneath him.
“I’m not going to fuck you, if that’s what you think is happening.”
“That is not what I think is happening. You’re not going to fuck me because I won’t let you.”
He laughs. “You can keep telling yourself that if you want to, but we both know it isn’t true. You want me to fuck you.”
“No, I don’t.”
I take a deep breath in and out, trying to slow my racing heart. I’m just anxious, worked up because I shot him. Because he’s on top of me, holding me down. Because I’m in a dangerous situation, and he could kill me at any second. That’s all I’m feeling.
He lowers his mouth, and I think he’s going to kiss me. I don’t know whether to spit in his face or beg for his lips to caress mine. His lips move at the last second though, and he nips forcefully at my ear, tugging and pulling until I think he is going to rip my ear off.
It should make me more afraid. But it doesn’t. I feel my nipples perk to attention, and there’s a stirring deep in my belly as I wish that he would never stop.
“You want me, Nina. You want me desperately.”
He moves to my other ear, giving it the same treatment.
“No,” I say in barely a whisper.
He grins. “Are you sure, Nina? Are you sure you don’t want me to fuck you? I’m sure that Heath tried his best these past few days, but did he satisfy you like I did?”
“Stop,” I say.
He cocks his head to the side as he stares down at me. “Fine. If that’s what you really want, I’ll stop. I’m not evil, Nina. And, unlike you, I’ve had plenty of sex these last seven years. Plenty of dirty, filthy sex that would put what we did last time to shame. I don’t need you.”
Arlo gets off of me and takes a step back.
He starts removing his pants.
“I said no.”
He laughs. “Then, get out. No one is stopping you. I’m going to drink a couple of glasses of scotch to deal with the pain-in-the-ass wound you created in my shoulder, and then I’m going to sleep until we get to Italy. And I happen to sleep in the nude. So, either join me or get the fuck out.”
I jump off the bed, intending to get out of there as quickly as possible, but I stop at the door. I don’t know why. He’s letting me go. I can spend the rest of the flight planning what I’m going to do once we get to Italy. How I’m going to escape. But, instead of leaving, I want to stay.
He’s right in thinking that I want him to fuck me. I shouldn’t. It’s the absolutely wrong thing. I just married another man. But I can’t get the last time we were together out of my head. I can’t forget about the rope tied around my wrists. I can’t stop thinking about how he controlled me. How having no control made me want him more. I can’t stop thinking about that damn night.
It’s just because that was the night my life changed. That was the night I had to start running instead of living.
“Go, Nina,” Arlo says, standing in nothing but his underwear. “You don’t want this. Save yourself, like you promised.”
I open the door and disappear back into the main part of the plane. But I can’t get the sadness and pain that I felt from Arlo out of my head. He cares about me. I know that. It’s why he saved me. But everything else, I don’t understand.
Save myself.
That’s what Arlo wants me to do. He’s given me chance after chance tonight to save myself. I could have let Heath go in my place. I could have shot and killed Arlo twice. And I got to leave his bedroom instead of letting him fuck me. I’m still alive and unhurt. Other than ripping Heath out of my life, Arlo really hasn’t done anything that bad to me.
Save myself.
That’s what he wants. But what if, by leaving his bedroom, I just lost an opportunity to save myself? Because I think the best way to save myself is through Arlo. He’s the key to my freedom. I need to make him fall in love with me, and then he’ll save me.
6
Arlo
Nina is too easy to seduce. She’s still too obsessed after all these years. She loves Heath. That’s clear, but it would have been all too easy for me to get into her pants if I had truly wanted to last night.
She is going to fuck up all my plans before we even get home at this rate. I can’t let that happen.
I haven’t seen her in hours though. For all I know, she’s found a way to put us both out of our misery.
We are landing soon, so it’s time for me to get off my ass and go figure out what to do with her. I roll off the bed to start to get dressed. I should shower, as it would make me feel better, but I don’t. I don’t want to feel better. Maybe, if I let the pain consume me, I can do what I need to do.
I put my pants back on and then grab a clean shirt from the closet. I begin to put it on and feel the stabbing pain in my shoulder as I slip my arm in the sleeve. She got me good in the shoulder. It will take me several weeks to fully heal.
Good. I need to remember that she’s no angel. That she’s a fighter even if she is a terrible shot. I’ll have to remedy that situation soon.
I finish getting dressed, and then I step back into the main part of the airplane to face her.
I expect her to be asleep or planning her revenge on me and my family, but I find her doing neither.
She smiles at me brightly.
“Don’t do that.”
“Don’t do what?” she asks with a smile still plastered on her sweet face.
“Don’t pretend that everything is okay when it isn’t. Stop smiling. You shouldn’t be smiling.”
“So, now, you get to tell me that I can’t even smile? I don’t think that’s fair.”
“Life isn’t fair. Get used to it.”
I walk toward the front of the plane to check in with the pilots to figure out when we are landing. When I return, Nina still has a bright smile on her face.
“Buckle your seatbelt. We will be landing soon.”
She smiles as she buckles her seatbelt. “When we get back to your home, will I be able to shower and change? This dress is uncomfortable and dirty.”
I stare at her with wide eyes. I don’t know what she is doing, but she needs to stop. Pretending like she isn’t being kidnapped against her will and about to step into a completely different world where she will be tested in ways she could never imagine is useless. It won’t help anything.
I ignore her and look out the window as we land. She doesn’t understand it, but it’s the last time I will have any freedom either. At least, until this is all over.
In the backseat of the car, I watch Nina’s eyes as we pull up in front of my house. Her eyes grow just as big and wide with wonderment as they did the first time she entered my house when her class was getting a tour for her art history lesson for the day. I don’t see any fear.
“What is your fascination with my house?”
She blinks rapidly, like I just turned into a monkey or something. “It’s not just a fascination; it’s an obsession. Your house is beautiful. It’s the most beautiful home I’ve ever had the pleasure of stepping foot inside of. It has architecture and history unlike so many homes in America that are just built for convenience. This home was built to be beautiful, just for beauty’s sake. It was spared no expense and has lasted hundreds of years. Through all the changes in the world. What isn’t there to love about it? Don’t tell me you don’t think your home is magical.”
I shake my head and then rub my neck. Nina looks very much like a woman, and for the most part, she acts like it, but she has a long way to go in understanding how things really work.
“I don’t think my home is magical or beautiful. And it’s definitely not something you should obsess over. It was built on the backs of slaves, like most of the world’s greatest buildings were. It served as a dungeon for many. A place of oppression for others. That history you speak so fondly of is nothing more than pain and suffering of other people. It’s nothing to be obsessed over.”
She frowns as she narrows her eyes at me. “It’s also your home, and it carries your family’s history and that of generations of people before you. It also represented hope and lov
e for a lot of people. It represented freedom and a chance at a better life. It gave employment to some. Shelter to others. It was a place of fancy parties and people falling in love. Every place has a negative history. But you can’t focus on the dark without also seeing the light. Everything has two sides.”
When she speaks, I know she isn’t talking about the house anymore. She is talking about me. She thinks I have a light side along with the dark. She’s wrong. I haven’t had a drop of goodness in me in years. It died the day Nina’s life effectively ended. I’ve had a very different mission ever since.
The driver parks the car outside the mansion that holds more secrets than I will ever know. I can see how she finds it beautiful, but she’s just letting her naïveté through.
I step out of the car, and Nina follows. She looks like a mess in her wedding dress that is covered in dirt and filth. Her makeup is smeared all over her face. She looks broken already. Maybe that’s a good thing. Maybe it will make my family think she is weaker than she actually is, and they’ll underestimate her.
I step back into my home that might as well be my own prison cell. That’s what it feels like every time I walk inside, but in a few months, that will all change. I will own everything. I will become the ruler instead of the captive.
I keep walking through hallways and past large rooms that hold beautiful paintings and history that Nina used to stare at like it was perfection when, in fact, they are nothing more than paint and canvas.
“Where are we going?” Nina asks as we wind down hallways and up staircases that she wasn’t privy to on her tour.
“To prove to my father that you are here and to learn the terms of your debt.”
I hear her gasp, but I don’t turn to look at her. I need to turn off my humanity now. If I have a chance at winning this fight, I need to not feel anything. Not her pain, fear, or excitement. Not my own heart racing or even the ache in my shoulder. I need to feel nothing.
I keep walking until I get to the family room in the back of the house. When I gave the tour seven years ago, I only showed the students rooms that were practically never used. I never showed the rooms that actually mattered. The rooms that we actually live in.
