Russo Saga Collection

by Nicolina Martin

  I’m not like that. I’m not like him.

  Eric’s soft voice cajoles me into a trance of memories. “When you’ve been hurt, Anna, when you’ve been lonely. Seen couples laughing before you and crossed over to the other sidewalk because you didn’t want to meet them. When customers make your life hell no matter how you bend over to please them. Didn’t you feel like hurting someone then? Wouldn’t it have been satisfying? Even for someone like you?”

  I cringe and look up at him. His face is mere inches away, and I exhale, realizing I’ve been holding my breath. How does he know all this? He smiles and, for the first time since back at the Starbucks, he appears friendly again. And all I want is to slap him. I know I’d take pleasure in that!

  “Do I take pleasure in hurting people?” he asks again.

  I mean to say ‘Mmm’, but it comes out as a small, pathetic squeak.

  “It depends—” He bends his head closer and watches me from under a curtain of dirty-blond hair. I stare back, hypnotized, intensely regretting bringing this up. “Are you asking if I like hurting you?”

  The same ridiculous whimper escapes my lips again, and my heart pounds so loud it roars in my ears.

  He holds my gaze. “What do you think?”

  I look him straight in the eyes as rage rises in my chest. He’s such an asshole! He’s trying to gnaw his way under my skin, and he’s succeeding all too well. Fuck him!

  “I think you’re the most fucked up person I’ve ever met.” I sneer.

  I yelp when he grabs my wrist.

  “I can’t fucking figure you out,” he snarls hoarsely. “You keep dancing on razor blades when you keep on pushing— What’s your deal? You seem to want me to hurt you because you keep coming back for more. And trust me, love, I can hurt a person. Badly.”

  I yank my wrist, trying to get out of his grip, and he lets me go. As I massage my hand, I study his face. He has darker circles under his eyes, and he looks tired. I shake my head.

  “I don’t want you to hurt me. I wish you wouldn’t.” I hold onto his gaze.

  “What is it then? You haven’t been very compliant. Most people crumble under the pressure I’ve put on you and do whatever I tell them. If I tell them to roll over and die, they roll over and die. I never meet this much resistance. It’s not often I let myself be convinced not to go through with my plans.”

  “I’ve crumbled.” I whisper and close my eyes to fight the pain. I flinch when his hand touches my chin. I jerk my head away and meet his gaze.

  “You’ve been fighting me every fucking step of the way, Anna. I thought I’d taken a step forward and then you forced me to take two back. Over and over.”

  Random flashes of blood and violence tear through my mind. “I made the wrong choice anyway.”

  “Why is that?”

  “I couldn’t stop you from murdering a really good and decent man.”

  Eric shrugs. “Of course you couldn’t. It’s what I do. It was, and is, completely out of your control. Also, know this, he wasn’t as decent as you think. If that’s any consolation.”

  “Why? How can you do something like that? How can you live with yourself?” I don’t know why I ask. I shouldn’t poke. I shouldn’t have any desire to get to know Eric. It’s not sane. But maybe I’m not sane.

  “Money’s good.” He grins and winks.

  I frown and squeeze my eyes shut, focusing on the anger that rises inside at the casualness with which he toys with human lives.

  “You asked me before what I think. If you enjoy hurting people.” I clear my aching throat. “If you enjoy hurting me.”

  “Yeah?” I feel him shift beside me.

  “I think you are a very damaged, very pathetic human be—”

  I dodge to the left and leap to my feet as his arm shoots out to grab me. Within a blink of an eye, Eric has chased me into a corner. He slams his hands to the wall behind my head, trapping me between his arms. His eyes flare with rage and the muscles on the sides of his jaw twitch. I try to duck to the side, but he catches me easily and pushes me back against the wall with his forearm against my throat. I jerk and try to get loose, achieving nothing but being held tighter.

  “Why—” he pants in my ear, “do you keep looking for trouble?”

  “Maybe I just can’t take your attitude anymore,” I sneer.

  “Care to develop that a little?” he snarls.

  “No, I don’t. You know what I mean.” I shake my head and glare at him. Eric pushes harder, making me gulp for air and struggle to bend his arm away. My heavily thudding pulse taps rapidly against his skin. “You do enjoy hurting me,” I wheeze.

  He yanks me toward him, and in my struggles to get loose I end up with my back to him instead and my cheek against the steel wall. His every heavy breath reverberates through me.

  “Little Anna,” he snarls in my ear. “With you I discover pleasures I never even knew existed!”

  “I hate you!” I scream.

  “Really? I’m so hurt!”

  “Let me go. Now.”

  “Mmm, I don’t know. I kind of like the view.” He pulls my hair hard, forcing my head back, closer to him.

  My scalp aches. His cheek rasps against mine. Tears well up in my eyes and the scar on my throat burns with the memories of the rape, the pain and the humiliation.

  “Please,” I whisper. The images that worm their way to the surface make bile rise in my throat. “I’m gonna be sick.”

  He releases me in an instant, making me sag. “For fuck’s sake, don’t puke in the elevator! Can you imagine the stench?”

  I nod as a sour taste fills my mouth. “Give me some space,” I gasp. He backs up and I crouch, trying to focus on my breathing, riding through the waves of nausea until they subside. I lick my dry lips and glance up at him. He stands in silence, regarding me.

  “You don’t like people touching you, do you?”

  “Touching,” I huff and sit back on the floor, wishing intensely I had something to drink to get rid of the bitter taste in my mouth.

  He crouches before me. “Yes, touching. One way or the other.”

  “There’s a difference between people and people, Eric.”

  “You can’t continue to keep everyone away.”

  “It’s working just fine!” I sneer.

  “But look at you. It’s pathetic—”

  That does it. I lift my head and meet his searching eyes. They’re filled with questions, and I have an answer.

  “Have you ever been hurt, Eric? Really hurt? Have you any idea what a rape does to you? How the humiliation reduces you, how it takes over your life until there’s nothing left but pain? How every ounce of your self-confidence shatters and ceases to exist?” A spear of hurt stabs my heart. I clench my hands into fists and press them to my empty stomach, struggling to take back control and not succumb to the memories. “I fight for every breath, for every moment of normalcy. Then you come and… tear me apart all over again.”

  I turn away, not wanting him to see how my eyes water, and jerk when a hand touches my shoulder. A yelp escapes my lips when we’re plunged into complete darkness once more.

  “Oh God, no!” I breathe. I don’t move. His hand remains on my shoulder. I was but a breath away of slapping it off, but now I welcome the proof of the presence of another human being. “Not again,” I whisper. “This is insane.”

  “I’ve had better days—well, nights,” Eric replies. He shifts and settles next to me, removing his hand.

  He doesn’t speak, and neither do I. If it wasn’t for the slight, even whisper from his breathing, I’d go crazy thinking I’m alone in this hell. My eyes are wide open and still I don’t see a thing. This is what being blind must feel like. I try closing my eyes, and it feels better for a while. If I squeeze them hard, colorful patterns appear behind my eyelids and I can feign normalcy for a moment. I voluntarily shut out the light. It doesn’t work for long though. Soon a frightening feeling of being watched creeps up on me. As if I’m the only one who doe
sn’t know the light is back. I flip my eyes open again, only to find it’s still black as a tomb.

  I can’t stand it!

  As my heart begins to race, Eric shifts next to me. I flinch when he speaks.

  “I know hurt.”

  I’m not entirely stupid, so I keep my mouth shut and wait. Minutes tick by and he doesn’t speak again.

  “How?” I ask after a while.

  “Oh, wouldn’t you like to dig into the mind of your kidnapper slash near-murderer?” The earlier softness in his voice is replaced with an edge that makes my stomach clench.

  “No, I mean… You seemed like you were going to say more, and I thought—”

  “You thought I would give you the sad story of my life. Short and dirty version.”

  “Given the circumstances and the fact we’re going nowhere, I was thinking of the longer version,” I snap.

  Eric laughs, and then goes quiet again.

  I was so grateful for the distraction and I’m not willing to give up yet. “You know hurt? I find that hard to believe. If you did, you’d never do what you do.”

  “What is it I do?”

  Relieved he’s still in talking mode, I press on. “You hurt people.”

  “Call it retaliation.”

  “Yeah? On what? Or whom?”

  “Aspiring to become a shrink?” There’s a slight venom in his voice.

  “I might. Does it bother you?”

  “Nothing bothers me,” he sneers.

  “Well, good. Then talk.”

  I revel in the sudden turn of the conversation. He’s painted himself into a corner and I’m not going to help him out easily. I want him to suffer. Yeah, maybe I do take pleasure in that. Irritation oozes off him and my lips twitch in satisfaction as I nearly smile. Keep on talking, Eric. Let me hear what a terrible childhood you had and what made you become so remorseless and cruel. When he still doesn’t say anything, I hammer the nail in a little further.

  “What’s the matter, Eric, cat got your tongue?”

  I gasp when his hand strikes out and grabs my arm. He pulls me until my shoulder collides with his chest, squeezing me so hard I know I’ll bruise.

  “You have no idea who you’re dealing with, Anna,” he snarls. “Don’t think for one second I’d hesitate if it came to that.”

  Relaxing in his grip, refusing to ignite yet another fight and drift off-topic, I press on. “Did he beat you badly, Eric?”

  “Who?” he snarls, his breath hot on my face.

  “Eric Reed, Sr.”

  He hisses and it sounds as if he almost explodes. His hand clasps so hard it feels like it will break my poor limb in two. I wince but force myself to stay calm. My chest rises and falls against his. “You’re hurting me. Did I hit a sore spot?”

  He grunts and eases the pressure. “No.”

  “Oh, sorry,” I continue. “I forgot. You don’t have any weaknesses, right?”

  I stiffen until it feels like I’ll shatter when his hand shifts and moves along my back. I shy away when it passes my shoulder blades and settles, palm flattened, on my lower back. He swiftly pulls me to him and whispers in my ear, “I wouldn’t say I don’t have any weaknesses.”

  “Eric,” I croak, not so brave anymore. “You—you’re changing the subject.”

  He leans in, and I jerk when I feel his cheek next to mine. “And here I was thinking you wouldn’t notice.” Releasing me, he sits back again with a sigh.

  My cheeks burn, and I’m suddenly thankful for the darkness. Correcting the jacket and pulling it tighter around my trembling body, I go for another approach. “Please, Eric. Say something, anything. I need some distraction. I was beginning to panic when you said that.”

  “Oh, you’re good. You know that?”

  “What?”

  “You’ve got some mean managerial skills. You negotiate better than most and you work well, even under pressure. I’m fucking impressed. I could use someone like you.”

  “Not in a million years!” I gape. I can’t believe what he just said. Does he think—

  “Relax, Anna, I’m pulling your leg.”

  Oh.

  I’m almost disappointed. I hoped he at least had meant the compliment. Oh! “I might be good, but you’re even better,” I say with a short laugh.

  “Say what?”

  “You’ve done it again.”

  “Done what?”

  “Shifted topics.”

  He laughs. “I work full time manipulating people, Anna. That’s what I do. That’s what I’m best at. I can be muscle too when needed, if negotiations have failed.”

  I shudder. “Meaning?”

  “That someone’s about to draw their last breath. No need to beat around the bush between you and me.”

  Swallowing hard, I hug my knees, realizing that during our banter I’ve forgotten who he is. Or, more to the point, that I have no clue who he is. “How did you get involved with… this?”

  “The murder and deceit?”

  “Yeah... that.”

  He’s quiet for a moment. “I had my reasons. Shit happened. I was young and malleable, met the wrong man, or right, depends on how you look at it, and before I knew it, I had the rest of my life planned out for me, more wealth than I’d ever thought I’d see, and a whole lot of blood on my hands to go with it.”

  I bite my lower lip to prevent it from trembling. My chest aches. “But… you seemed so nice.”

  “Good. That was the whole point.”

  My heart pounds harder and harder and I try to swallow the huge lump of sadness and disappointment in my chest. What did I expect? I inch away from him, regretting ever asking, feeling lonelier than ever.

  When his hand touches my shoulder, I almost jump out of my skin.

  “I’m sorry, Anna.”

  Chapter 12

  Eric

  She inhales sharply. “For what?”

  “I didn’t play you entirely at Starbucks.” I swallow, I’m on thin ice here. “I liked our conversation too. I was curious.”

  Then I wait, listening to her erratic breaths, already regretting what flew out of my mouth. She’s so gonna use it against me somehow. She’s a wolf in sheep’s clothing, my little captive. You don’t ever bare your throat to a wolf.

  “You—you can’t just say that,” she says hoarsely.

  “What?”

  She clears her throat. “You can’t say you were ‘curious’ and then leave it at that. You need to give me a little bit more.”

  “And why is that?” I’m not sure I want to. That was stupid. The darkness and the cold are getting to me and fuck it, I’m gonna lose it in here.

  “Because—because of this! Everything!” Her voice takes on a shrill tone, a slight hysteria creeping in. “Because you did all this to me and I… It—” She sighs and starts over. “It really hurt me.”

  I frown. I’m not following. “That I threatened you?”

  “You hurt me!” she yells, making me twitch as the realization dawns on me. I see. I reach out toward the sound of her breathing, my fingertips brushing her soft cheek. She moves and I lose the contact, missing it a little.

  “Anna, did you think…?”

  “No! I didn’t!” she sobs. “But you made me laugh… and actually relax in your company a little. I’m not… I don’t normally—” She laughs, the sound strained. “God, my cheeks are so hot.”

  A bolt runs through me, a need to touch her, to borrow some of that heat. “I could use some warmth,” I whisper and reach for her again. She flinches when the tips of my fingers find her delicate throat. I shuffle closer and cup her cheeks. “Don’t move. I’m not gonna hurt you.”

  “What are you doing?” she asks, her voice faint.

  “You are hot.”

  My cock stirs from the innocent contact. I remove my hands and shake my head. It’s not like I’m starved, she just makes me so damn curious. There’s this hard shell around her that I ache to crack. What I’d do after, I don’t know. It would probably leave her
even more of a mess. Shattered. Because that’s what I do, I don’t know how to be anyone else. I never will.

  “Are you very cold?” she asks.

  I can’t resist the fucking pull anymore and move closer, until my shoulder touches hers. She tenses, her whole posture screaming that she’s about to flee.

  “Shhh. Stay. I am cold.”

  She doesn’t move when I hesitantly lay an arm around her shoulders and pull her close. It’s only survival. Nothing else.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispers.

  “Don’t be sorry. It’s not your fault.”

  “Well… technically it is. I ran into the elevator.”

  “I chased you here. I’d say we’re both to blame.”

  I smile when I hear her little laugh and, despite everything, feel her relax against me.

  We sit in silence, a little awkward, close, my arm around her shoulders, my hip to hers. The little warmth we can share, we share. I don’t know how much time passes. My head hurts, my mouth is dry and I have a slowly growing need to pee. It’s not bad yet, though, and I suppress the feeling the best I can. The light flickers once, startling us, before it goes out again.

  She wondered what my background was, what made me into the damaged man I am. I don’t talk about it. Ever. Salvatore knows of course. He picked me up off the streets a couple of years after the disaster, after my childhood ended for good. You don’t keep secrets from Luciano Salvatore anyway. It’s not good for your health.

  What’s the harm in telling her, though? Everything is so fucked anyway. Maybe we will die in here?

  “Every day,” I say.

  Anna

  I flinch when he suddenly speaks. A brief shudder shoots through my body. I don’t ask what he means, just sit up straighter. He doesn’t say anything else for a while. Then his husky voice continues in the dark,

  “He beat me every day.”

  I swallow hard and squeeze my eyes shut. Oh God. Not long ago my reaction would have been different. I would have thought he deserved it, and now I don’t. He has slowly started to become a real person to me. Very real, in fact. Actually, he feels closer than I’ve let anyone come for years.