Highest Bidder Collection

by Lauren Landish

  I hate to see him when he’s like that. Alone with his thoughts. Consumed by his past. He becomes a different man and puts me aside. I loathe it.

  He needs someone to help him get over his past. And I want to be that person.

  Isn’t that what I’m supposed to do? Be there for him, like he’s trying to be here for me?

  I just want to get to know him. I don’t like how he shuts me out or when he goes to his study late at night. I’m grateful he lets me read what he’s written. In a lot of ways that’s his way of talking it through. Talking to me.

  He needs that. I know first hand how powerful it can be to just talk things out. Even if it’s just your school guidance counselor. Maybe if I open up to him, he might then finally open up to me.

  Gathering my courage, I sit up in bed and roll over onto the edge, my feet dangling off the side. I’m about to slip into the plush, white slippers, when I hear an angry shout downstairs. My heart racing, I slip off the bed and rush from the room.

  As I’m rushing up the hallway to Joseph’s study, the voices get louder. He’s arguing about something with another man. Their voices are muffled so I can’t understand exactly what they’re saying, but it doesn’t take a genius to know whatever it is, it’s not good.

  Stay out of it, the voice in the back of my head warns. I know I shouldn’t go down there. My blood is freezing and my heart refuses to beat because yells are coming from both Joseph and someone else. It’s more than a heated argument. But my feet are moving before I can stop them. I have to see. I have to make sure he’s okay.

  But I can’t go unarmed. The thought chills my spine, paralyzing my movements before sending me quickly on a different path.

  I make it down the hall into Joseph’s room, the voices rumbling like thunder throughout the house, making my blood freeze. I hear Joseph yell something that sounds like an awful threat. I’ve never heard him sound so angry. Fuck, I’m scared.

  I rush into Joseph’s closet, shaking and trembling, my heart skipping every other beat. The room spins around me as I steady my clammy palms on my thighs. I can hardly breathe. What the fuck did I get myself into.

  He was in the mafia.

  He was a bad man.

  I take in an unsteady breath, staring at the suits that block the gun rack. I didn’t for one second think he had anything to hide other than his dark past.

  My fingers are trembling as I push his suits aside and swallow thickly at the sight of the guns. I stand there for a moment, my heart thump thump thumping as the noises downstairs gets louder. Staring at all the cold hard steel, my heart bounces around like a fighter in a cage.

  I’ve used a gun before, but only for target practice. I don’t know which to choose.

  But I don’t have time to sit here debating with myself. Joseph might need me. My throat closes as I quickly grab one of the Glock’s and check if it’s loaded. It is.

  The click of the gun makes my heart pound faster, I rush out of the closet and out of his bedroom, and down the hall to his study, holding the gun down carefully at my side and trying to be quiet for once in my life.

  I stop to the side of the door of his study, my heart racing, and dare to peek inside. My heart pounds. Thump. Thump. Thump. The cold steel seems to heat as my palm sweats, making my grip on it weak.

  Joseph’s sitting at his desk, his face a mask of rage and there’s a man in a black suit standing in the center of the room with his arms crossed across his chest.

  They’re arguing with each other, the man in black waving his hands sporadically before running his hand over his shiny bald head. Neither of them can see me from this angle, so I slip into the study, hiding behind the table, eavesdropping on their conversation. I can hardly keep my hands from trembling and the grip on the gun as I listen.

  “The La familia wants you back,” the man is saying, his voice incredibly harsh. “Did you think they just forget about you when you left?” He has a thick accent, but it sure as fuck isn’t Italian. I’m trying to be quiet, but I feel like they’re going to hear me just from my breathing.

  “I don’t give a fuck what they think,” Joseph growls.

  “Oh really? Do you really want to play this game?”

  “I don’t want to play anything. I’m done with that life. I’m a different man.” The confidence in Joseph’s voice makes me proud of him. I find myself nodding my head, although my heart is still begging me to get the fuck out of here.

  The man in black lets out a harsh laugh. “You’re not done until the la familia’s says you’re done.” His quiet answer makes me want to peek around the table. My fingers grip the edge, but I can’t do it. I’m frozen in place. “You can lie to yourself all you want to, but it doesn’t change the fact that you’ve killed in the name of la familia. That’ll never go away, no matter how hard you try to forget, or no matter how many lies you try to tell yourself.”

  My heart stutters. Joseph’s killed people. Goosebumps run over every inch of my skin.

  There’s a moment of silence and I swear the only thing I can hear is the pounding of my heart. I’m afraid even Joseph and the man in black can hear it. Maybe that’s why they’re quiet; they know I’m in the room.

  “You have 10 seconds to get the fuck outta here,” Joseph growls suddenly, his voice dark and deadly. My blood chills at the note in his voice. I don’t think I’ve ever heard him so angry, so ruthless. It lets me know that whoever this man is, he has really gotten under Joseph’s skin.

  There’s another pause, almost a hesitation, as if the man is wondering if he should press his luck and call Joseph’s bluff. Please don’t. My pointer finger steadies on the gun in my hand, although I’m too afraid to even open my eyes.

  I can barely hear the man respond, “La familia will be waiting for you.”

  He turns to leave, and when he does, I dare a peak from behind my hiding place. I catch a glimpse of dark hair, dark cold eyes and handsome features that remind me of Joseph’s, except his are marred by the absolute ruthlessness stamped on his face.

  For an instant, his cold eyes meet mine.

  Fuck.

  I sink down almost immediately, but I think he saw me. I know he did.

  I can hear Joseph rise and follow the man out, the sounds of their shoes smacking against the ground, so much softer than the sound of my wild heart. He saw me. Fuck!!

  Before I can even move, Joseph returns and closes the door.

  I sit there, clinging to the gun, my heart pounding, wondering what I should do. I’m fucking scared. I don’t know what kind of shit Joseph is in, but I want no part in it. The man claimed Joseph killed before. He killed people.

  After a moment, I decide to remain hidden until Joseph leaves the room. However long that takes.

  But I don’t get the chance.

  “You can stop hiding now, flower,” Joseph says, the sudden sound of his voice making my heart jump.

  I close my eyes, swallowing thickly, and then slowly rise to my feet as a feeling of dread and two words run through my mind.

  Oh fuck.

  Chapter 22

  Joseph

  I can’t stand the look in Lilly’s eyes. Accusing me. All this time she’s been reading my journal. Looking at me as though I’m a wounded animal. I don’t want her sympathy. But her kindness and the sweet side she’s given me has been addictive. I’ve grown to crave it.

  Now she sees me for who I really am. What I represent and where I came from. As if she didn’t know. How did she think I got this fucked up?

  You can’t have one without the other.

  “Hand me the gun,” I hold out my hand and she’s quick to look down at her hands as if only now realizing what she’s holding. She rises slowly, her shoulders hunching in slightly and takes a step forward, handing it to me and quickly backs away. She looks around the room, still processing everything.

  I gently set the gun on the table before turning back to her.

  “What did you hear?” I ask her. More for her own safety
than anything else. My brother isn’t going to let up. I need to know what she heard.

  She doesn’t answer me. She stares at me wide-eyed with a mix of fear and something else.

  I raise my voice and give her the command again, “what did you hear?” My heart hammers in my chest. I hate the look in her eyes. The way she’s looking at me. I want my Lilly back. My flower.

  “Nothing,” she barely answers. Her voice only just above a murmur. I narrow my eyes at her, hating that she’s lying to me. I open my mouth to admonish her, but she cuts me off.

  “I didn’t sign up for this!” Lilly’s voice wavers as she raises it. Her eyes are glazed with tears as her body trembles. Leaning forward, I can feel the anger radiating off of her in waves. As though I betrayed her.

  “Who did you think I was Lilly?” I ask her, my head tilting and my voice low, filled with my own anger. She’s a smart woman, she knew what she was signing up for. She had to know.

  She stares at me with a look of contempt, but tears cloud her eyes. She shakes her head unable to speak. She keeps looking at the door and then back at me. I can practically hear what she’s thinking. She doesn’t want me anymore. She doesn’t want this anymore. I’m not the man in the books she reads. I’m not the poor boy whose memories of abuse are coming to front.

  She thinks I’m one of them. One of the villains.

  She swallows thickly and takes a step forward.

  “Kneel,” I give her the command but she doesn’t obey. She stares back at me, her eyes wide and disbelieving. My heart freezes. Don’t deny me Lilly. Don’t do this. What we have is so good. It’s so right.

  “No,” she shakes her head. “I want to leave!” She screams at me. My chest clenches with pain at the conviction in her voice. “The contract says that I can leave at any time.” Her voice shakes as she speaks, mirroring the trembling of her body.

  I can’t let her go. I won’t.

  They’ve seen her. I saw the look in Ricky’s eyes when he left.

  They’d use her as a tool to get me. I take two steps closer to her and she takes two back until her back hits the wall. She staring back at me with her fists clenched and her breathing is coming in sporadically. Her eyes flash with the challenge, but they also contain fear. She’s scared of me. It fucking kills me to see that look in her eyes.

  I brace my palm on the wall beside her head, leaning forward and whispering into her ear. “You aren’t going anywhere.”

  The only sound I can hear is her breathing. As though it contains her hate for me in this moment. She swallows thickly before answering, “you lied to me.” The hurt in her voice is surprising. As if that’s my biggest offense. Telling her she can go and then taking it away.

  I kiss her neck gently, she’s stiff and I wouldn’t attempt to kiss on her lips at this moment. I pull away from her and rest my hand against her neck, my fingers wrapping around her throat in a possessive hold. “I’ve never lied to you Lilly,” I speak softly staring at her plump lips rather than the daggers in her eyes. “The game has changed, you shouldn’t have let him see you.” I chance to look at her face, her expression is one of sadness, her eyes staring at the hardwood floors.

  Again she swallows, quiet and no longer fighting me. But that’s only because she doesn’t know how to fight back yet. She will, I know she will. She has too much fight in her to give up so easily.

  “You directly disobeyed me,” I say quietly; that draws her attention to me, and the sadness is once again replaced by anger. I prefer that. Because with anger there’s passion. I crave her passion.

  “You need to go to your cage now.” I deliver the blow.

  Her lips part and I can practically hear the words on her tongue, “yes sir.” But she snaps her lips shut, looking me straight in the eyes and refusing to obey yet again. It makes me want to smile. Her defiance, her new game move. I’ll take it; I’ll take anything she’s willing to give me.

  We’re both quiet as I lead her to her room, I silently opened the cage and she gets them without a fight. That’s not to say she doesn’t have one, I can feel her disobedience rolling off of her in waves. I shut the door as I did before, not locking it. I never have and I never will.

  She stares at me through the bars of the cage. A look of pure hate shining back.

  But she doesn’t use her safeword and I cling to that knowledge..

  Chapter 23

  Lilly

  I lie in my bed, naked, the cool air from the ventilation system caressing my bare skin. I’m counting the days until this is all over. Just thinking that hurts my heart, my hand moving to it and tears pricking my eyes.

  It hurts to think Joseph maybe isn’t the man I thought he was. I knew he was hiding dark secrets, but this is just too dark for me. He won’t let me leave. But as soon as he deals with this mess, as he says, then I’m gone. Money or no money, contract or not. I don’t care.

  It’ll all be over. I roll over, onto my side, clinging to the small, blue pillow and ignoring the pain in my chest.

  At the same time, I don’t want it to end. It’s crazy. I both hate it and love it. Hate him and love him.

  I blow out a frustrated breath as I think about my predicament, think about the position I am in.

  It makes me want to fight him. Knowing he’s keeping me here. And I’m getting addicted to it.

  But even with the urge to be belligerent, I still obey him. Only to a degree. Pushing my limits, testing him. He knows it too and that only makes me push harder. Because I want him to push me harder. The knowledge makes me lower my eyes to the beautiful white comforter.

  And I still have feelings for him, even with my doubts. I can’t deny how strong they are. How could I not?

  A part of me hates myself for feeling that way. But I can’t help it. I can’t snap my fingers and erase what I feel just because Joseph may have done some horrible things. We have a connection, something that I’ve never had with anyone, though it feels very strained right now. Because of me. Because his past won’t leave him alone.

  I stretch out my leg, and lay it over the outfit he has laid out for me. My eyes are drawn to the beautiful short dress. Don’t know why he laid it out. It’s not like I’ll be wearing it.

  He wants to tempt me to wear it, that voice at the back of my head says. So he can have a reason to punish me when I don’t.

  As if he needs a reason. He can do whatever he wants to me.

  He owns me.

  I can’t even lock my bedroom door.

  I never have a moment a privacy.

  That’s the part that my romance novels left out. The cold, harsh reality of never having a moment to yourself, never being able to do anything without approval. It was fun and games before, when I wasn’t angry at him. When I wanted it as much as he did. But it changed.

  I hate that I even have to ask to work on my novel. But it’s not like he denies me that privilege. He always gives in when I ask. Somehow, that makes it more infuriating.

  I wish I could be more pleased with him. Instead, I feel like I’m a spoiled pet throwing a tantrum.

  I’m so confused.

  My thoughts are swept away as I hear the soft creak of the bedroom door.

  I hear him walk into the room but I only move my head just enough to peek at him. My breath catches at the sight. He looks handsome as usual, dressed in black dress pants and a white dress shirt opened at the chest. I don’t get off the bed to kneel or greet him. That’s why I know I won’t be wearing those clothes. I’m done playing. He can just throw me in the damn cage until he lets me go.

  His eyes find my naked body and I blush fiercely, though I don’t know why. It’s nothing he hasn’t seen before. Looking at him, I’m feeling so many emotions, that I have to turn away, my chest heaving.

  Anger. Hurt. Betrayal. Lust.

  They’re all there.

  I startle slightly as I feel his arms encircle my waist. His hot lips find my neck and I find myself leaning back into him, my lips parting in a soft sigh, my nippl
es pebbling. I’ve missed his touch. My eyes close; he feels so good. My arm wraps around his, betraying me, but I don’t care. I just want to feel him for a moment. Just a moment.

  “I know you’re still angry with me, Lilly,” he says softly in my hair, his breath hot on my neck. I can feel his big, hard cock pressing against my ass, and I desperately want him inside of me. Make love to me. Make me forget. Please, make me forget.

  I wish he couldn’t read me so well. And I don’t want to really respond. But I know he’s expecting an answer.

  “Yes sir,” I say softly, my words sounding a bit stiff. I’ve come to hate them. But I love saying them at the same time. I’m just one big walking contradiction.

  He runs his hand down my stomach, and circles it around my pubic hair. “When you shower, make sure you shave.”

  Anger swells up my throat and I swallow. I’m glad he can’t see me roll my eyes. He knows that I’ll shave, I just haven’t gotten a chance to take a shower yet. I think he just knows that I’m pissed and wants to make me even angrier. He wants to rule over me. Fuck him!

  “You’re an asshole!” The words spew from my lips before I can stop them.

  His arms leave my waist. I’m relieved and miss his touch all at the same time. I fucking hate how he makes me feel. “Why are you angry with me?” he asks, his voice even and low. Deadly.

  I turn to face him, no longer able to hide the anger I feel. “You lied to me.”

  Joseph clinches his jaw. “I already told you that I didn’t.”

  “And I’m supposed to believe that? That man said you killed people. How do you explain that?”

  “Lilly, I’m going to ask you not to talk about that. It has nothing to do with us.”

  My jaw nearly drops as I stare at him with wide eyes. “Nothing to do?” I ask breathlessly, stabbing my finger into the mattress. “I’m a fucking slave to a murderer! That’s what I am! How do you think that makes me feel?”