“Alejandra,” he uttered firmly, annoyed, then huffed out a long breath. “We’ll find something.” Then he reached over to our wrists and, with a small key, unlocked his hand, freeing it. He reached back, and the unmistakable light clicking sound of the handcuffs locking again sounded.
I was once again fastened to the headboard.
I was also back to plain ole Alejandra.
The way he called me baby…
Shit. Is that all it takes to win you over, a pet name he probably uses with every woman he meets? That’s tragic.
I shook my head to clear it. This man was dangerous to me. This man would likely be the cause of my death, if not at his own hand. I was not to trust him.
Emotions were fickle. Talk was cheap. It was actions that spoke louder than words.
Actions like his from last night?
Without a single word uttered, I pulled myself up into a sitting position, my arm raised at an awkward angle, my elbow attempting to bend in a way that an elbow will never naturally bend in. But I sat quietly, my mind sleep addled and void of any real thoughts. I wondered whether my sisters were missing me, or were they disappointed in me, in what I’d done.
A big part of me hoped that Veronica, my closest sibling, my best friend, would know there were reasons for me lashing out in such a way.
Lashing out, I thought with a cool laugh. It sounded like something a teenager did, like taking the car without permission, or borrowing your mom’s heirloom diamond earrings and losing one. No. Lashing out was a poor phrase to use. Lashing out didn’t end in the cold, violent death of a person. Well, not normally.
I wanted to feel bad about Dino’s untimely demise, but, God help me, I couldn’t even muster a small piece of sympathy or regret. Rather, I felt warm. I felt my lungs expand to their full potential. I could finally breathe again.
My reason for doing what I did was simple.
I had lost all of my basic human rights. Desperation was my main motivator.
My melancholy thoughts left me as the bathroom door opened and Julius stepped out of the cloud of steam, wearing a pair of too-dark-to-be-navy jeans low on his hips, the button on top still undone.
Beads of water clung to his defined torso as if they had a hard time letting go and, as my eyes roamed his madly toned upper-body, I can’t say I blamed them. He caught my roaming eyes and he stilled. Affected, his stomach clenched a single moment before he took a step forward. The slow movement shook me, and my cheeks blazed in mortification as my surprised gaze met his hooded one.
Shit.
I was caught out.
My belly dipped at the thought. Embarrassment warmed me.
He kneaded one broad shoulder with a large hand, and I could tell of his discomfort, but he never let his pain show.
It had been so long since a man had touched me with gentle hands or kissed me long and slow, with feeling. My gaze came to rest on those full, unintentionally inviting lips, and I wondered how it would feel to kiss a man I wanted to kiss, not one I was forced to.
The thoughts were irrational. Stupid, even. I should not have been thinking these thoughts about anyone, let alone Julius. Especially Julius.
I told myself that it was only because he was extremely attractive, gorgeous actually, and that being in close contact with a man of Julius’s stature was bound to stir some feelings in a woman who craved affection.
It was a crush.
Once again, my eyes glanced over the sharp angles of his beautiful face and came to rest upon his full mouth. I fought a sad sigh.
A harmless crush.
A crush was all it ever could be.
The truth was, I’d never felt so attracted to a man based solely on his appearance. His dark, short, neatly trimmed hair. The day old stubble on his cheeks. The way he held himself, tall and menacing. His flawless light brown skin, high cheekbones, strong nose and manly chin. Those lips…
Oh, God, those lips. They were the stuff of pure fantasy.
His lightly veined arms. The size of his hands. I looked down to his bare feet and my gut clenched. Down to his icy-blue stare, it did it for me. He was the complete package, looks-wise. And it should’ve been the furthest thing from my mind, but I wanted him to hold me again like he did the night before. The feel of his strong, muscled arms around me evoked feelings in me I’d believed were long dead.
Shit, but that meant something to me. That was important to me. It was something bittersweet, something I wanted to explore knowing damn well it could never happen.
I clenched my legs together tightly, slightly shocked at the warmth slithering down my chest and settling in my lower stomach with a light throb.
Knowing I wasn’t immune to the male body was kind of exciting.
That meant there was life after Dino, and the fact had me no longer wanting to die, because, at the end of the long, dark tunnel, there was still hope for me. A very small sliver of hope, but hope nonetheless.
Julius walked into his closet a moment and walked out just as quick, pulling on a thin cream-colored sweater. It looked soft and warm. As he approached me, I wanted to reach out and feel the cool wool myself. I held back, clenching my fingers in reproach.
He leaned over me, and I closed my eyes, breathing in the warm, spicy scent of his cologne. When he unlocked me, my limp arm gave way, but he held it fast. A pained look spread across my face, and my mouth parted as his long fingers worked the stiffness out of the muscles. It felt wonderful.
He felt wonderful.
Julius must have been watching me closely, because he mistook my pained expression for actual hurt. “I don’t like cuffing you, but you leave me little choice.” My gaze flew to his at the gruffly spoken words, and he went on, kneading the muscles in my forearm. “Regardless of what you might think, I don’t like the fact that you’re hurting. If I could, I’d let you go.” His admission stuns me. “But Gambino wants you dead, and I’ve got to give him something.”
My breathing heavy, I swallowed hard and held his stare. “I don’t want to die.” My whispered confession is very real.
His eyes softened a moment. His hands worked my arm a second longer then his fingers slid down past my wrist then curled around my hand for a whisper of a moment before he placed my hand on my lap. His voice held a notion of regret. “That’s not my business.” He released me and took a small step back, his eyes on me, his gaze cautious. “Not unless you make it my business.”
My mouth gaped in an attempt to save myself, and all the words begged to come spewing out, but I snapped it shut just as quick. I reminded myself that all the men in my life had either deserted me or hurt me, and this man would do the same. I would be wise to watch out for any tricks Julius planned to use.
This man did not want to help me. He wanted to manipulate me.
He missed nothing, dear Julius, and shook his head softly in irritation. He moved ever so slightly, placing his hands on his hips, looking at me expectantly. “Can’t help you unless you talk to me, little sparrow.”
I so badly wanted to become his little sparrow, but my body curled in on itself, my cheeks pink, as I responded quietly, “I’d like to shower now.” Then added, “Please,” in case I seemed mildly ungrateful.
Coming forward, he grasped my elbow and led me to the bathroom. I walked inside, and the door closed behind me, the distinct sound of a lock clicking over echoing inside the pristine white en suite.
I looked wistfully at the shower stall, reached for the hem of my dirty shirt, but then hesitated.
What if Julius decided to come back in while I was showering?
I couldn’t let him see me.
A split second decision had me removing my bra, sliding through the armhole of my blouse, and pants, but leaving my underwear and ripped, dirty top on. Turning on the water, I waited until the temperature was to my liking then stepped under the warm spray, wetting my hair. I shampooed twice, only satisfied when my hair squeaked from cleanliness. I didn’t spot conditioner, but I wasn’t about to complain. I undressed the wound on my heel and cleansed it gently. It stung so badly, but I kept quiet lest Julius come storming in to see what was wrong. I soaped up thoroughly and took my time rinsing off, and when I was officially clean, my skin scrubbed red raw, I stood under the spray with my eyes closed, just because it was soothing to my soul.
A hard knock on the door startled me. I called out, “Yes?”
Julius responded through the door, “Brought in some of Ling’s clothes.” The click of the lock turning over sounded then the doorknob started to turn. “I’m bringing them i—”
Sheer panic had me yelling, “Leave them in the closet!” It took everything for me to not shout, “Do not come in here.”
Much to his credit, he did not press the issue, just grunted, “Hurry up.”
After a five-minute pep talk to myself, I covered my bottom half with a towel while draping another over my shoulders, leaving my body completely covered, before rushing out of the bathroom, face down, and making it to the enormous closet, which could have acted as a second bedroom.
I was pleasantly surprised at the selection of clothes he had brought. I slid on the plain black panties provided but, as predicted, there were no jeans in sight. However, there was a classy but comfortable pair of black slacks that fit me nicely, but were a little loose around the waist. I slipped back on my own bra, because Julius hadn’t thought to bring one of Ling’s, and shrugged on a tasteful, white long-sleeved shirt, buttoning it up one button from the top. My hair was a write off without product, but I brushed it out and let it hang wet down my back.