Her lips brush against the crook of my neck as I carry her the few feet to the mattress. Her pleas are still whispered, and the gentle warmth of her breath sends a tingle down my spine. I barely contain a groan of desire as I move her to the mattress. She clings to me still, holding tightly and begging me. This time she begs me not to leave her.
“Don’t go. Stay with me… please,” I barely hear her words. Her face is still pained, but there’s gentleness in her cries as I shift her onto the mattress.
Her hand fits in mine as I pull her fingers from me and place them on her chest. Her chest rises and falls as she calms herself, slowly drifting to a different place.
Time passes quickly. Too quickly as I sit on the mattress, making it dip with my weight and staring down at her. Her heavy sighs emphasize her breasts, the bit of lace from her black bra peeking from her shirt. It almost tempts me as much as the dip of her waist.
My gaze caresses each curve of her body as I remember the first time I heard her name.
The day my life changed forever.
Her bed groans in protest as Aria turns in her sleep, settling into the mattress and my body stiffens. I shouldn’t be here right now. That’s not how I gain the control I want. I can’t breathe until she’s still and her own breathing evens out. But as I move to stand, shifting my weight ever so slightly, the mattress slumps and her hand falls, her soft fingers brushing mine, the tips touching.
My hand stays still beneath hers, but it begs me to explore. To thread my fingers between hers. Closing my eyes and inhaling deeply, I remind myself that there is time.
Time will change everything.
My eyes open at the reminder. Just like that day did years ago.
The day my father dropped me off at the corner of West and Eighth by the liquor store to sell that last bit of his pain pills. I was more approachable, according to him and we needed to pay the bills. It didn’t matter what I said or how much I didn’t want to do it. I was the oldest of five, my mother was dead, and I had nothing left in me. Nothing but pain.
My father dropped me off on Talvery’s territory unknowingly. And it wasn’t long before I learned what it meant to sell drugs on his ground.
I was only a child before that day.
But one day changes everything.
Chapter 8
Aria
* * *
Waking up with my heart beating out of my chest, the hope that it was all a nightmare crumbles into dust when all I can see is cement and cinder block walls.
I have to close my eyes and cover my face to keep from losing it. “This can’t be happening.” The trembling words leave my lips unbidden. Wrapping my arms around my knees, I try to tell myself that it’s all a dream. I rock back and forth, and as I do, the sounds of the mattress creaking beneath me and the feel of my heels digging into the comforter makes my body freeze.
I try to remember last night, and I know full well I slept on the ground only a few feet away. I know I did.
My hands fly over my body. As if they could check to see if I was touched.
I feel the sharp edges of a scratchy throat but swallow thickly, trying to suppress the terror of what he could have done to me.
I must have crept into the bed and not remember it. I know I haven’t been touched. I would know, wouldn’t I? “I would,” I say the words aloud as if I was speaking to someone else. Maybe I just needed the reassurance. I don’t remember a thing after falling asleep. I wish I could have just stayed awake.
The whispered words echo in the hollow room as I glance up at the door. And then to the camera as it moves. Carter Cross, I almost speak his name aloud. I’ve heard his name before, always spoken with anger. I know he’s one of a number of brothers and the head of a drug cartel. That’s where the information ends. My father never liked me knowing anything and the only bits I learned were slivers of the truth from Nikolai. And he only told me what I needed to know. They said it was to protect me, but I would give anything to know what I’m up against.
I’d give anything to know what Cross is capable of.
Is he just going to leave me here to die? My throat pains in a way I didn’t think was possible.
“Let me out,” my raspy voice begs and the words themselves are like knives raking up my throat. I haven’t eaten or had a drink of water since I’ve been here, and I don’t even know how long that’s been.