The Dark Protector (Kingpin's Property 1)

Hours must have passed. I’ve drifted off to sleep twice, but I keep waking up because of the uncomfortable position I’m trapped in. But when I open my eyes later on, I find Antonio in the room, silently watching me and holding his gun as usual.

“Let me down,” I rasp. “I’m in pain.”

He doesn’t respond, just stares at me with that cool, troubled gaze that reveals none of his true feelings.

I want to scream and shout, but I know it will not change things. So I keep crying quietly, feeling sorry for myself. I have no way of knowing what time of day it is and how many hours have passed. Xavier doesn’t even check up on me.

Later, the door flies open and one of Xavier’s men walks in with a stormy expression. I think his name is Hugo.

“You just going to leave her like that?” he barks at Antonio. The younger man scrunches his face in worry but doesn’t comment as Hugo approaches me. He won’t go up against someone who outranks him. “She’s a fucking child, Antonio.”

Still no response from the stone-faced guard.

But I let out a whimper of pain as Hugo cuts through the ropes, setting me free. He takes off his crisp white shirt, revealing muscles upon muscles. I don’t let myself get distracted by the sight, quickly wrapping the shirt around my naked body.

Hugo seems troubled by what he’s done and leaves the room without checking up on me. As I rub my swollen joints, I glare at Antonio, saying, “Aren’t you going to offer some comfort?”

“Not my job,” he mutters, averting his gaze when the shirt falls open. “Not my problem.”

“You think you’re better than Xavier, don’t you?” I hiss at him, hurriedly buttoning the shirt before going up to him. “You’re just like him. Just as cruel. Just as ruthless. Just as bad.”

He doesn’t respond, which only frustrates me more. I walk out of the playroom, slamming the door shut on my way out. But Antonio is close to follow, and he silently holds the door of my bedroom open for me.

The puppies, Zeus and Hades, are waiting for me and I’m delighted to see them. I pet them, cooing and cuddling them as they whimper for my attention. If Xavier was really as cruel as I paint him out to be, he would take my dogs away from me. It’s a fear I can’t get rid of.

As I pet the puppies, I allow my mind to wander. Maybe I can use the dogs to my advantage. Maybe one day, when Xavier finally goes too far, they’ll be able to help me. There’s no doubt that they’re attached to me, already so ferociously protective they make the guards scared. I smile shakily, hoping the puppies will be a saving grace.

“They’re getting big,” Antonio mutters from the sidelines. “They’ll be all grown up soon.”

I’m surprised he’s spoken up. I take it as a peace offer - he wants me to understand why he can’t help me, but he’s showing his human side with an errant comment, at least. Still, I don’t respond. I cling to the dogs.

Antonio walks up to me, still holding the gun. I stiffen when I see it in his hand, always ready to shoot, always ready to protect me. As far as doing the job Xavier hired him to do, I can’t find faults in Antonio. But I need to keep reminding myself he’s just a guard. He has no personal interest in me. He can’t, unless he wants to die. Xavier would punish him just for talking to me casually like this.

He kneels next to me, landing a hand on my shoulder. My bare skin sparks in the tiny spot he’s touching it. I haven’t been touched this way in so long.

“Are you okay?” he asks softly, so quiet nobody can hear him outside in the hallway.

“Get your hand off me,” I hiss, and the puppies accompany my words with low growling.

“Please,” he mutters. “I just wanted to-“

“I meant what I said.” I push his hand off my shoulder. “You’re as bad as Xavier. And I need you to remember what I’m about to say. We are never, ever going to be friends. I will never, ever care for you. And I hope one day Xavier kills you. You deserve it.”

He takes a step back after straightening up. I can tell my words have impacted him, his face a mask of sorrow and regret. But I watch it turn before my eyes. Switching from the worried friend who wants to help to a ruthless creature just like Xavier.

He steps aside, his hand tightening around the gun until the veins on his arms pop. His knuckles are white, and his face is pale. I could console him, but I don’t want to. I’m not connecting with Antonio, not after he left me up there, forgotten by Xavier. If it weren’t for Hugo, I’d still be strung up in the playroom.