The hands stop tugging, but the callused fingertips still graze my skin. Whoever speaks...he has a voice that makes the entire room go silent. The roar of a lion is heeded by all predators. A part of me flinches in recognition. Iknowthat voice, but my mind is too busy spinning to place it.
“Think...Arno... Another method.” His words come in bits and pieces like the clues to a puzzle I’m too dumb to solve.
“Don’t tell me you’ve gone and grown a heart on me,” someone snidely retorts, but his tone is cautious. There’s a true monster in this pit of beasts, and even this animal knows when to tread carefully. “Want me to give her back to fucking Stacatto on a silver platter?” He’s shouting, and I shudder at the wordsgive back.
I’d rather die than go back.
I arch into the hands at my sides, hoping that their owner will let his lust override any objections. Use me. Kill me. Ican’tgo back.
“...just want...to think about other options. Use this to your benefit. There’s another way to make him pay.”
“How?” It’s a violent, bellowed plea that a part of me seconds.
Tell me how.How can I win? How can I screw the devil himself?
I don’t hear what is said next. The panting of the man crouched over me drowns out all else. He strokes me sloppily, grazing my hip with his nails. It feels like an eternity before another softly spoken word breaks the monotony.
“Your choice. Don’t say I never gave you business advice.”
I’m unsure just what makes me peel my eyes open. He stands out like a panther in a jungle of weeds. Tall, broad shouldered. Fearless, he heads for the stairs as if he doesn’t have a care in the world. I’m just a speck on his peripheral vision, too insignificantto merit a passing glance. With my eyes, I follow his ascent through the door and up the narrow staircase beyond it. Then the man at my backside shifts.
“Arno? We...we, uh, doing this or what?”
The red-headed man’s reply comes without hesitation. “We’re doing it. Who’s first?”
My eyes drift shut again. I will my head to float and separate from my body. I need to be far away. I’m not here. I’m not here. I’m...painfully trapped inside my skin, forced to feel every inch of the hand that dips into my panties and plunges between my legs.
Panic dances through my skin, riding the sharp tendrils of pain. My stomach, overflowing with alcohol, rebels.You’re not here, Daniela. You’re not here. You’re not—
“Ah, fuck! Stop.” There’s a sound like that of flesh striking flesh, but it isn’t violent—more as if someone slammed a hand into their own fist out of frustration.
I can taste it, this dangerous tension building in the room like poison. Then a man somewhere grits out a harsh sigh, and it all scatters at once.
“Let her go.”
The hand between my legs doesn’t abate its cruel, searching thrust. I can’t silence the cry that slips loose, verging on the edge of a scream. I can survive anyone but Vinny...anyone. But my aching body isn’t as willing a sacrifice.
“I said let her go.”
The hands recede, and I slump to the floor, trembling and floating and panting. My eyes open once again, and I see him there, lurking just near the mouth of the staircase. A part of me wonders if he ever really left, but his voice isn’t the one that put an end to the party.
“Jesus—fuck,oneday, Dante,” the red-haired man snarls. “One fucking day. You come up with nothing and I’ll fuck her myself and send her in pieces to Stacatto. Understood? You fuck this up...and Parish’s blood is onyourhands.”
The blue-eyed predator accepts the challenge with only a nod. He is uncaring, his face revealing nothing. I wonder what he’s promised. What he wanted. Why the men are leaving, spearheaded by a furious red-headed man, who slams his boots against the floor with every step.
“You can leave her here if you want,” he tells the man, Dante, before pushing past him for the stairs. “But I won’t lock the door. If anyone wants her, they are free to have her.”
I shiver, pressing my throbbing cheek against the floor while I try to find my melody again.“If anyone wants her, they are free to have her...”I hear footsteps approaching me. They’re steady, unconcerned when I try to shift out of reach.
My new attacker catches me easily. He seizes my panties in a fist...and then drags them back up to my hips. The next second, I’m in the air, and the world spins for a terrifying moment before coming to a sudden stop—only I’m upside down. My eyes open to a hazy view of the cement floor. It shifts and writhes right before my eyes like a vibrant, gray body of water. My arms sway, dangling before me like pendulums. I’m moving.
Though, on second thought, it’s more like movingwithsomeone. They’re carrying me, whoever they are, across the basement and up the stairs. My nose hits something firm, which I assume to be a muscular body shielded by cheap cotton. I inhale sharply before I can stop myself. A mixture of musk and sweat and alcohol.
CHAPTER TEN
Dante
She weighs almost nothing.I’ve worn coats with more give to them. It’s almost entirely too easy to carry her up two flights of stairs to the apartments. It’s a bitter sort of irony fit to kick someone in the ass; her weight reflects none of the burden she brings.
