King’s Captive

by Amber Bardan

  I turn my face away, and try to rein in my breaths. My little brother is the center of my universe. There hasn’t been a day that’s gone by since Dad sent him off to school that my heart hasn’t been broken, missing his sweet face. “Good luck with that. Thomas is with Uncle Pietro in Sicily.” I make myself face him, look him in the eye. “You’ll need more than a few men and a handful of guns to get past Pietro Mercedes.”

  Julius leans closer, his shoes an inch from my red-spattered white pumps. Two lines dig between his brows. “It amazes me.” He reaches for my face, touches the thin skin right below my eye. “You don’t even blink when you lie.”

  Now his fingertips are on my face, it’s as though he can’t stop examining me. He traces my cheekbone. I feel the touch as sharply as if he touched me with a blade. Every sense fixes to the exact point on my body where skin meets skin.

  I hold my jaw tight—it’s that or bite him.

  His fingers reach my chin. He takes the point between his thumb and forefinger. “Want to try the truth now?”

  “That’s the truth. He’s with Pietro. You’ll never touch him.” I don’t wrest my chin away, but don’t move. As he claims, I don’t blink when I lie.

  “That’s interesting, because I heard Pietro was arrested this morning.” He sighs and lets me go. “He and his entire crew were taken in for weapons dealing, drugs and worse things—” Julius holds up the photo right in front of my face “—and there was no boy there.”

  I cover my mouth with my hand. Arrested? How did we not hear this?

  Is Julius the one bluffing now?

  “The sky is falling, baby. It’s all coming down. I’m the only one who can keep it at bay.”

  I breathe through my fingers. I’ve never met the uncle my father left behind in Italy. Never met the notorious man whose last name we share, but that name, it eased our way here.

  Helped Dad become who he was—until today.

  No one told me, they never needed to say, exactly how bad Uncle Pietro is—but we aren’t the same here, are we?

  We’re legit... Mostly.

  Mostly law benders, not breakers. Aren’t we? What is there really to come down on us?

  Julius King opens his jacket again and this time pulls out a phone. Taps on the screen, then hands it to me.

  I don’t take the phone but can’t help seeing what’s displayed.

  The image on the screen changes everything.

  “The nuns still rule with an iron fist in Switzerland, I hear.”

  I stumble. Julius catches my arm. Holds me upright.

  The phone flashes in my vision. Thomas playing in the playground of a school whose student list is so closely guarded I cannot fathom who Julius could have bribed to find this out.

  “Come with me, do what I’ve asked, and everything will be alright. Thomas will be safe.”

  Screams echo in my head. I can’t tell whose they are, the screams from before or new ones my mind invents.

  I tear my gaze from the phone and look at Julius King, the man who just ruined my life. We’ve gambled with a lot of lives today. Maybe I could go another round with my own but I won’t risk Thomas.

  The fingers on my arm loosen.

  Julius has won. Not just won, he’s conquered completely.

  I blink, breathe, try to think through all the possible catches. “Safe from you?”

  “Safe from everyone.”

  I shut my eyes, see my brother in my mind. A little boy who is all I have left besides the money and material things I never asked for. “Fine.”

  He takes my other arm. “No, no. You’ll mean this when you say it. Open your eyes.”

  They open on command, but I’m not level with the face I expect. I stare into the ruby eyes of the snake. Look into the open mouth, long fangs poised for the bite.

  “I’ll come with you,” I say to the ink on his neck.

  “Look at me,” he demands. “Swear you won’t ever try to leave me.”

  I lift my chin. The cool eyes are worse than the red ones. I meet them anyway. “I swear I’ll never leave you.”

  He scans my face, watches so intently maybe he might catch what floats in my mind. “Will you do what has to be done?”

  My tongue catches. I’ve promised to be his prisoner, but there’s one thing worse than that. One thing I won’t do.

  Can’t do.

  But I have three years.

  The fingers on my arms shift gently, but hold me that much closer, and he looks down at me that much harder.

  Three years... I’ll be long gone by then. I have to believe that.

  “I’ll do what you’ve asked.”

  “Do you swear?”

  My lips move but I hardly feel them. “I swear on my life.”

  “Swear on everything.” His face sinks toward mine. “I want everything.”

  Is he going to kiss me? “I swear on everything.”

  He watches my mouth and breathes in. He wasn’t about to kiss me—he captured my vow. Something in my chest goes hollow. A lot like I just sold my soul.

  There’s a chance I’m wrong. There’s a chance I’ll be trapped with him forever. I repeat a name in my mind over and over and over until there’s some small spark of hope.

  Fury, Fury, Fury.

  Chapter Thirteen

  I’ve always thought this bungalow was huge. Yet with Julius next to me the room seems rather coffin-like.

  “What do you have to say to me?”

  I could confess. Could see if sorry and apologies fall deafly on his ears. “I never promised not to see other people.”

  Only the sound of the insects that followed us inside pierces the silence around us. He won’t like this. Not one bit. That’s kind of the point. Three years was enough. I’ve seen just enough to work a few things out about this man. To save Ash, I’ll play one last game.

  Julius will punish the man who dared touch his toy.

  But there’s only one penalty for trying to take it.

  “I guess I’m not as strong as you, Julius.” I step toward the king bed monopolizing the room, white linen pulled tight and crisp. “I’m not built for celibacy.”

  I reach the bed, turn and sit on the edge. We’ll make it through a lie but not the truth.

  His shoes tap across the floor, until their shiny tops fill the square of floor I stare at. “Stop lying to me.”

  There’s a vibration in his tone, a rattle that makes my gaze fly to that snake.

  Today there’re bristles flowing down his neck long enough to distort the image. He hasn’t shaved as he usually does in the evenings.

  As he does every morning and night.

  I inhale through my mouth. His scent flows along my tongue. Sends the feverish sensation that accompanies being this close to him bursting through my veins. It won’t take much pretending to play this part.

  I drag my gaze up his neck, over his jaw, his lips, until I look him in the eye. “I get so lonely.”

  His palms come down either side of my hips. He watches me. Takes score. Takes score of every lie I’ve ever breathed to him. Adds them up so one day when he delivers the mother lode of all deceptions, he’ll call us square.

  “How far has it gone?”

  I swallow. The trick to making shit up is to line it with truth. I’ve been lonely. Been needy. Longed to get warm again. And I’ve been taking count too. Over a thousand nights I’ve been here, on this island and with him. Slept in this very bed a thousand times, and burned hot and cold. Burned with icy lust and blistering hate.

  Or so I’d thought. Right now, though, I know one thing for certain—there’s no such thing as hate. Doesn’t exist.

  “All the way.”

  His eyelids snap shut, then open on a cusp of rage.<
br />
  Hate requires feeling. Invests so much emotion it spoils the sentiment altogether. What I thought was hate was anger eclipsing other emotions. Didn’t matter where the rage came from, pain, hurt, pride, jealousy, injustice, it’s all the same. All anger.

  I hate Julius.

  “I won’t let this pass, you know that.”

  Hate him. But hate is passion—a bitter kind of love. Obsession. The truth is I’m obsessed with Julius.

  He is all I think about.

  His jaw snaps shut. I don’t pull away from the sound, I lean in closer. Day, night, morning, afternoon, doesn’t matter, my head is full of him.

  My heart is full of him.

  “Then you’ll have to punish them all.”

  I notice everything. The way he walks across the yard, the way sweat beads on his forehead, the way he smells underneath his cologne, how short he keeps his nails, the exact place on his cheek his sideburns end.

  Just like I now notice the confusion, the moment of doubt flickering his features.

  “What do you mean?”

  In my mind I hear his laugh, that rare sound, and it makes me shiver. Makes someplace deep in my stomach ache. I imagine him hurting. When he’s cutting his homemade cold meats, the way he does with that knife of his, toward his thumb. I imagine it sliding through his flesh. Imagine a great big flap of skin tearing clean off.

  That makes me shiver too.

  I touch myself and think about him. All. The. Time.

  Obsession.

  There’s no such thing as hate.

  I hate Julius.

  “I’ve had them all.” My vocal cords constrict, but it only makes me sound huskier. “Leo.”

  His face contorts, but I’m not done, I make the next one count. Think back to when I’ve accidentally seen Dan piss. “And for such a big guy, I have to tell you Dan has an itty-bitty prick.” I press my hand flat on Julius’s chest. He jerks. His heart pounds under my touch. “I bet you won’t let me down that way, will you, Julius?” I lean in the rest of the way. Bring my mouth to the shell of his ear. “I bet I’d never recover.”

  My fingers shift on his shirt. It’s odd to experience his rapid heartbeat, and my own galloping one, both at the same time yet so out of sync.

  His hand flies to the back of my neck and then I realize, it’s not just my mouth at his ear, his is at mine. “Liar.”

  He cups me beneath my skull, tugs me so my cheek scrapes on his. “I know everything there is to know about you, baby.”

  My dress pulls where it’s trapped under my thighs and where he leans between my legs.

  “I know the things you’ve never told a soul.” His lips touch my ear, and his hand squeezes. “The things you don’t know yourself.”

  He releases my neck. “I know you have not.”

  I breathe out. He’s right and he’s wrong. I’ve lacked for opportunity but never for intent. If it wasn’t for him, I’m sure I’d have traveled through Europe and sampled the world and everything and everyone it has to offer.

  “Are you sure?” I reach down and grab his ass in both hands. Let my fingers dig into cheeks I’ve watched walk by—a thousand times—and wondered why I’d never noticed asses on men before.

  His is why. Because like everything about him his ass is hard, and wicked, and not at all nice in the most provocative way.

  I tug him between my thighs, and for someone who’s never done this, boy do I perform. I roll my hips and the erection I knew would be there hits where my starving body craves it. The impact shudders through my core. My eyes widen and my neck arches.

  He catches me with an arm behind my back.

  I look at him, not into the anger or knowing I expect, but into bafflement. His brows tug. I’ve baffled him.

  He’s not breathing, just staring. I let go of his ass, fall back against the spongy cotton duvet. Trail my fingers up my thighs until my dress is around my waist.

  He stares at my panties like they’re Pandora’s box. In a way they are. He’s tried so hard to observe his promise. I’ve already implied invitation today. But there’s no more time for borderlines.

  I cross over. Reach out and clutch his shirt between buttons. The backs of my fingers slide through the gap and brush his belly, enough hair there to tickle my skin. I pull and he follows me down, catching himself on a forearm beside my head.

  My skin prickles, alive with danger and the promise of sin. “You could have what you’ve always wanted.”

  His chest rises and falls, then he moves. His hand on my belly, then between my legs over cotton. He captures my mouth, thrusts his tongue inside. I meet him there, mouth open and willing.

  I’ve outplayed the devil. Don’t know what kind of prize you get for that yet. My thighs open wider and my hips rock into his touch. He makes a sound, a low kind of growl, and moves my nice-girl panties aside, and touches wet throbbing flesh.

  I gasp, but his tongue fills my mouth, I gulp his breath.

  He strokes high on my pussy, rubs the knot of nerves that shoots pleasure through my limbs. I can’t see through the cracks clouding my vision. There’s only this movement. Two fingers swirling, cranking tension though my being—and his taste, the weight of him. My own hand will never be enough again.

  I wrap my arms around his waist, cling to him. Everything tenses. Muscles pull tight up my calves and through my back. He kisses me harder. Maybe this started as a game, but the way we kiss, he can’t not know there’s been no one but him.

  His fingers flick over and over and I break. White-hot bliss washes over me. His fingers plunge inside—not one or two, it’s three. I come harder. A contraction of hurt and joy. I scream into the cavity of his mouth. He eats the sound. My pussy squeezes his fingers and I can’t wish them away. Not for all the feeling consuming me.

  I’m done, but keep on shuddering.

  He breaks the kiss. Makes another sound, but this one isn’t of need, it’s a sound of sorrow. A gush of air and crushing insides, of heartbreak.

  “Why do you always lie to me?” he says against my forehead.

  My chest heaves. The truth betrayed me in that kiss. I hurt. Not just where his hand is, I hurt in places that have no name. He’s right, he knows things I’d never say.

  It doesn’t matter that I’ve bought some time.

  Doesn’t matter that maybe Ash got away. Something has happened between Julius and me, and we can’t go back again.

  He withdraws his hand. I flinch but don’t close my thighs. He leans on his elbow. “Why did you do this?”

  He asked for honesty and this time he’ll have it.

  “Because I wanted to make one choice that was mine.”

  His lips purse fuller. For a moment I think he’ll actually give something away. “I hope you enjoyed that, baby, because the rest are mine.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  He doesn’t leave immediately the way he should. Instead, he lies down beside me and stares at the ceiling as I have so often. The fan on the roof turns around, and without looking, I still see his mind turning the same way.

  Round and around and around.

  We don’t touch but he’s there. His heat melting my side. I don’t know if all men throw off this kind of warmth or if it is Julius’s own energy.

  I’d tell him to leave, but every moment he stays is one Ash gets farther away.

  A vibration hums.

  Julius reaches into his pocket and answers his phone. “Yes.” He listens, glancing at me as he leans on his elbow. “I’ll be there in a moment.”

  He tucks the phone away. “It seems as though my speedboat is missing.”

  I bite the inside of my cheek.

  He rolls off the bed onto his feet. “As is your friend.”

  “What are you going to do?” I
slide off after him.

  He gives me one long stare, then leaves the bungalow. I follow him down the stairs, have to jog a little to keep up with his steps down to the house.

  He slides open the back door to the dining room. Leo and Dan wait inside.

  “The helicopter ready?”

  Dan knocks a cartridge into the base of a handgun. It locks into place with a click. “Yes, boss.”

  I glance between the three men. Leo runs his hand through sleep-mussed hair and snorts a phlegmy sound through his nose.

  This morning they were all friends, now they’re going after Ash with guns?

  I reach for Julius’s arm and grab his sleeve. “Let him go, he didn’t do anything.”

  He stills for a moment, then slides free of my touch. “He ran. Only guilty men run.”

  Dan holds the gun out to Julius by the barrel. Julius takes the gun, inspects it and tucks it into the back of his pants.

  “Or scared ones.” I move between Julius and Dan. Flinch as another cartridge clicks behind me. “He probably thinks he’s going to get shot for hitting on his boss’s personal hostage. It’s only sane to run.”

  Julius’s gaze snaps to mine. “Hostage? That’s still what you’re going to call it?”

  I frown, and drop my attention to the floor. My chest gets a little wheezy.

  “We’ve got a problem, baby. It’s time you understand what you really are to me.”

  I squeeze the muscles around my ears, try to block out what he’s saying. The sliding door scrapes and I turn sharply and look at him even though I don’t want to.

  “Please, Julius. Don’t put this on me too.”

  He stops, hand over the metal part of the door. Dan and Leo walk out ahead of him. “I never killed a man I didn’t have to. You can continue to dispute that—” his lip curls at the top “—or not.” He steps out and shuts the door between us. Then follows his men down the path toward the airstrip.

  I don’t think our have-tos mean the same.

  * * *

  The house grows quieter around me. I go to the kitchen and pour a glass of milk. Then raid the massive room-sized pantry and come out with cookies, and take them to the table. Slide out the tray and dunk, bite, dunk my way neatly through half the package, stopping only when the milk is a used-up sludge. Don’t think I tasted a single bite. A shame because I’ve missed cookies.