Violent Beginnings (The Moretti Crime Family 2)

“You are beautiful,” he murmurs. “I’m going to enjoy you very much.”

His words make me shiver. I know sex is a part of this. Probably the most prominent part to him and realize he will take it whether I want him to or not, but I’m not ready. Then again, I guess no one can prepare themselves to be raped.

“But not right now. Put these clothes on,” he adds.

For a moment, I think he is joking, but when I turn back around to face him, I find a pair of owl-print pajamas laid out on the bed beside him.

Regardless of this being a trick or not, I don’t want to disobey again.

Something tells me that Markus’s patience is not to be tested. Moving to the side, I lean over and grab the clothes off the bed. Curiosity has me wondering if he usually has women’s clothes lying around. Everything about him and this place is off-putting.

Maybe he brings women up here all the time? My thoughts twist, and soon I’m wondering what he does with the others? If there are even others? Does he sell them? Kill them? Oh god, I’m going down a hole I cannot come back from.

I slip into the cotton pj’s quickly, and for the moment, they make me feel normal again, even though I know for certain all of this is as far from normal as it gets.

Markus pushes off the bed, and the room seems to shrink with his stature. Unconsciously, I take a tiny step back.

“Take the pill and drink at least half of that glass of water.” He points to the nightstand, where I find both. He reminds me of a caveman more and more, ordering and pointing, expecting me to listen to him without question.

“What is—”

“Do it,” he says more sternly this time, his gaze slicing me down the middle.

As badly as I don’t want to take the pill, I know there is no way around this. It’s the pill or something far worse, and I’m not ready to go down that path. I’ll have to pick my battles, and this one isn’t worth fighting over.

Defeated, I pick up the white oval pill and place it against my tongue and swallow it down with nearly the entire glass of water. Markus watches me, a look of satisfaction appearing on his face.

“Now, get on the bed on your knees, and put your hands behind your back.”

I hesitate for a few seconds, but the deep growl rumbling in his chest has my legs moving a second later. I climb on the bed and crawl across it, coming to rest on my knees like he instructed with my hands behind my back. The position is uncomfortable and will make for restless sleeping, but again it’s this or… I think back to what he said in the car—a dark, cold cell.

The air shifts with every move Markus makes, and I think I could feel him behind me even if I couldn’t hear his footsteps approaching. I dare to sneak a peek over my shoulder and find he is holding a rope instead of the chains. That makes me feel a little better.

It might not be comfortable having my hands tied behind my back all night, but it will certainly be better with the rope than metal cuffs, a collar, and chains.

“Eyes to the front,” he barks when he notices I’m watching, and my head snaps back like my body is already used to being ordered around.

He wraps the rope around my wrists a few times, looping it in between, and then he tightens it somehow. The rope digs into my already tender flesh, but I bite my tongue to prevent the groan from escaping. This is not the time to complain.

I need to be smart about this. I need to make sure I don’t anger or annoy him. And most importantly, I need to earn his trust. That’s my only chance of getting out of here.

He latches onto my upper arms from behind and lowers me to the mattress, so my head is on the pillow, and I’m lying on my side.

A moment later, the light turns off, and the room descends into complete darkness. Panic seizes me the second the space goes dark. My eyes are wide open, but I can’t see a thing. In a flash, I’m back in that cell… alone, and cold, so fucking cold. My heart races as I hear Markus move around the room. Somehow, his presence is the only thing keeping me from going off the cliff and diving headfirst into a panic attack.

The bed dips, and I can feel him climbing into bed, lying down in the spot next to me.

Our bodies aren’t touching, but I can still feel him, his body heat radiating toward me. I can smell the thick manly scent of his cologne and hear the even rhythm of his breathing.