Dirty Addiction (Dirty 2)

“You shouldn’t have risked it.” I don’t want another family hurting because of me.

He laughs. “You say that now you have a full belly again. I couldn’t sit back and watch you wither away.”

“You’re prolonging the inevitable. Tomorrow Matteo will start starving me again.”

“He’ll try, but he won’t be able to, not when I’m sneaking you food.”

I smile. “Thank you. I wasn’t sure there was a kind person in this house.”

“There are a lot of nice people here. There are a lot of bad people too, though. Now, what do you do for a living when you aren’t here?”

“I prosecute the bad guys and lock them up in prison.”

He grins. “I guess you were right. You do have a better judge of character than I do. Any chance you will spare me when this is all over with?” He wiggles his eyebrows, and I laugh.

“What makes you think I will make it out alive?”

“Because you are strong and resourceful. And despite Matteo being cruel, he’s not the worst kind of monster. He won’t kill you. Heck, he can’t even beat you or rape you as he wants. He’s desperate to get answers about a woman he loves, you’re the only lead he has to find her, and the best he can do is deprive you of food. I’m pretty sure he left you with me because he knew I couldn’t resist feeding you. He’s aware of my past.”

I think for a minute, letting Dierk’s view of Matteo in, but I’m not sure it’s true. I think Matteo hides his plans from everyone he doesn’t fully trust.

“You don’t have a clue where Nina and Arlo are?”

He shakes his head. “Not a clue.”

I grin. “I will spare you once I escape.”

Dierk said Matteo has a soft side, that Matteo has some warmth in him, even if the evil hides it. Looking around at where I woke up, I’m beginning to think Dierk might be right. I was drugged in the dungeon, but he didn’t leave me there. Instead, he brought me back to his bed.

When I was unconscious, did Matteo sleep next to me in bed or did he sleep on the couch and give up the bed to me? I’m guessing from how I was lying in the middle of the bed, I slept in the bed alone. So he gave up his bed for me, again.

His weakness is Nina, I know that, but could I also be his weakness? I remind him of her, so maybe I can find a way to use that to my advantage. All I know is I won’t let him drug me again. I’d rather he starve me. I can’t handle giving up substantial portions of my memory.

The door opens, and Matteo steps in, but only to make his presence known as his eyes focus on me.

“Come on. Breakfast is getting cold.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Breakfast?”

“Yes, starving you only works when my staff doesn’t feed you behind my back.”

My heart races. “Your staff didn’t—”

His face tenses, and his dark eyes protrude, threatening me. I stop.

“I’m not asking you to rat out who it was. I don’t care. I know my employees are loyal to me and I can understand how a woman like you could manipulate them into doing what you want. Now get the fuck up and let’s go.”

I stand up abruptly, forgetting I’m still weak and need to move slowly. My knees give out, and I grasp for the post at the end of the bed, hoping it will keep me upright. I miss. I prepare for impact, my arms outstretched to catch myself. I don’t hit the floor though; Matteo’s arms snatch my wrists, holding me up.

He searches my eyes. “Why do I do this?”

I swallow down whatever emotions are creeping up in my throat. Matteo doesn’t have to explain himself. I know what he means. Why does he keep protecting me? Why doesn’t he let me fall to the floor? Why does he care at all? I don’t know the answer, but I have a feeling it’s the same reason I haven’t stolen a knife from the kitchen and jabbed it into his throat while he sleeps. Something unexplainable stops me.

He lifts my body up into his arms, carrying me like a baby. My head instinctually rests against his firm chest. I breathe in, and the chills all over my arms cause all the tiny hairs on my arms to stick up straight.

He notices the goosebumps on my arms and carries me to his closet, before pulling a sweatshirt off one of the hangers. He gently places me down on the bench on one end and holds the sweatshirt above my head. I lift my arms up, and he places it over my arms and head, pulling it down to my waist. He walks back over and pulls a pair of yoga pants off the shelf and bends down in front of my leg. He puts one foot into the pants, then the other, and helps me shimmy them up my bare legs until the pants are on.

I feel much better now that I’m clothed. I don’t know why Matteo always has me sleep in my underwear and one of his t-shirts.