“I’m sorry, it was an accident.” I deadpanned, staring off into space.
“Let her go, Nate.” Short and Stocky ordered, grabbing Meathead by his beefy arm.
“Fuck that.” He spat, shaking out of his hold. “She needs to learn respect.”
“She isn’t yours to touch, you idiot.” Lanky Blonde mumbled, not even bothering to look up from the purse he was still searching through.
“I don’t give a fuck who she belongs to!” Meathead yelled, sending spit flying in every direction. “She ain’t going to disrespect me and get away with it.”
I made a show of wiping his spit off my cheek before staring off into space again. He wanted a reaction, but he was barking up the wrong tree. My emotions were like Fort Knox, and the bastard would get nothing from me.
“You should give a fuck,” Short and Stocky warned, “for all our sakes.”
Meathead had gone off the deep end and refused to let go. Minutes ticked by and I could already feel the bruise forming under the pads of his dirty fingers as he increased the pressure. He wanted me to cower, but I refused to. My mother’s conditioning ensured that I now had complete control over my emotions. The dumb asshole was fighting a losing battle.
“I hope she’s worth dying for.” Short and Stocky mumbled, “If you don’t let go, we call the bosses, otherwise they’ll kill us too.”
That threat finally struck a chord, and I felt his grip lessen. No matter how big and bad meathead thought he was, he knew The Reapers were much worse.
“Forget it.” He said, flinging my arm away from him like discarded trash. “The bitch is obviously fucking crazy. She didn’t even try to fight me off.”
“Of course I am.” I said gesturing towards the gate behind them. “Why else would anyone agree to come here willingly?”
No one said another word. They knew what being here meant and based on the looks in Short and Stocky and Lanky Blonde’s eyes; it was a fate they wouldn’t wish on their worst enemy.
My eyes drifted to the monstrous gate as the two guards resumed their searches and Meathead trekked back into the guard station he crawled out of. With the threat of Meathead now far in the back of my mind, I refocused on the task at hand; getting through the gate.
The gate itself was gigantic, standing tall at least twelve feet of ornate metal. The thick metal bars were slippery; slick with dewdrops of the evening’s mist. My eyes clung to the beads of precipitation as they slowly rolled down, softly gliding and building momentum only to plummet to their unceremonious death. It was a morbid distraction from the feeling of dread trying to creep its way into my thoughts.
If I lingered too long on what was happening and what was most likely going to happen once I entered that gate, I’d either run away or crumple in on myself and neither of those were real options.
The two guards finally handed back my belongings and stood to the side as the heavy metal gate slowly crept open. My heart rate kicked up a notch as my eyes flicked up, searching for what was next.
So much in this world was kept under wraps, and no one bothered to fill me in on the details. From the moment I arrived at Alessandro’s, no one said a thing. I didn’t know where I was going or who I would encounter. When I tried to ask questions, I’d get ignored. It was as if my thoughts and opinions no longer mattered, and I had no say in anything that happened to me from here on out.
That’s why when my eyes spotted a literal mansion in the distance, I audibly gasped. I prepared myself for a lot of things, but I did not prepare myself for that.
The colossal home was strangely disarming, and its overwhelming elegance almost made me forget it should terrify me. Large tinted floor to ceiling windows encompassed the entire first floor, illuminating the front of the house in a soft inviting light. The wide modern moat that surrounded the property was bottomless and if I wasn’t studying every detail, I would’ve missed the discrete slate slabs that rose from its inky depths at my arrival.
It was a dream home in every sense of the word and a far cry from where I expected The Reapers to live. But I was quickly learning that in this world, it was better to expect the unexpected.
Stepping over the slabs, I quickly made my way towards the front door and tried to calm my nerves. I couldn’t swim; having to walk over thirty feet of seemingly bottomless water wasn’t helping the situation.
The moment I stepped off the last slab, I heard thewhooshof water moving. Looking back at the path I’d taken, I watched as the slate slabs descended back into the water, leaving me with no escape.
I felt the fear bubble up again, but I stuffed it right back down. I refused to show them my fear. Villains love to prey on helpless victims. I was many things, but I wasn’t a victim.Notanymore.
Taking a deep breath, I shook off the last bit of nerves and raised my fist to knock on the door. I watched the heavy door slide open and a man’s scrutinizing eyes peered out. Hidden by the door’s shadow, it was impossible for me to see much more than the vivid green eyes staring back at me. The silence hung heavy in the air as he continued to stare without speaking a word.
After a few tense moments, I couldn’t stand the silence anymore, so I repeated the only proper words that had left my lips since I entered their world.
“I’m here to repay Malcolm Warner’s debt.”
I fought the instinct to run as he pulled himself out from behind the door. His stride was graceful for such a large man, and as he moved to stand before me, the difference in stature was almost comical. I stood at around 5’5 on a good day and he had to be nearly a foot taller than me. His soft emerald eyes scanned the vacant air around us before looking down to settle on me again. His gaze was penetrating, and I was at a loss for words.
I didn’t expect him to look likethat. He was painfully handsome. His silky brushed back dark hair and bold, striking brows combined with his full lips, sharp jawline, and high cheekbones made him arguably the most attractive man I’d ever seen. He had the height and striking facial structure of a male model and the physique of a Greek god. If his body wasn’t covered from the neck down in ornate tattoos, I would’ve assumed I had the wrong house.
His enormous frame slowly circled mine, like a beast sizing up his prey. I ignored his bout of machismo and the delicious wisps of crisp citrus and spice his movements created, focusing instead on the carvings of the massive door he had closed behind him.
