A Tempting Arrangement (Twisted Vows Book 1)

51. Misty

I hitthe snooze button on my alarm when it buzzes on my nightstand and let Damon pull me back under the fluffy covers. I bury my face into the fabric, but the bright sunlight streaming in my window tells me it’s not the first time I hit it. We’ve been holed up in our apartment for two days since Damon found me at the hotel, fucked my literal brains out, and brought me home.

I turn into his chest, running my finger along the lines of his tattoos, and just breathe him in. “I need to see her.”

“Cancel,” he mumbles into his pillow, arm not loosening. He’s being adorably defiant.

Laughing, I attempt to peel his arm from around me. “Let go. Sidney’s leaving today. I have to go.”

I squeal with laughter as his fingers dig playfully into my side, tickling my bare sensitive skin.

“Mercy. Mercy!” I squirm away from him, but he just rolls me under him and brackets my head with his forearms.

I stiffen. “Wait. Are there cameras in here?”

Damon runs his nose along mine. “Not yet.”

“Is it weird that I sorta love that you’ve been watching me?”

His hair is mussed to perfection, giving him that bed head look others take patience and the perfect amount of dry wax to achieve. I cup his face and run my thumb between his brow, arching out to his temple. He looks a decade younger, like all of that pain and stress he’s been carrying around is wiped away. I meet his twinkling eyes, and he raises one brow at me.

“You’re staring again.”

I’d be embarrassed if he wasn’t staring right back, eyes scanning over my face like he’s memorizing every detail. I want to tell him that I’m not going anywhere, that he caught me and now he’s stuck with me forever. That I’m going to spend my entire life doing my best to annoy him until he drops his hard shell for good. At least around me. Instead of saying any of that, I lean up and press my mouth to his, pushing all my feelings into that single kiss. He takes over kissing me slowly, his mouth softer than I’d ever imagined.

He breaks the kiss, resting his forehead on mine, and touches our noses together. “I love you.”

His grip tightens slightly. “Misty Everette, will you marry me again? This time, with your friends, my family, and hundreds of other guests. I know you won’t let me buy you one, so I want to help you make the perfect dress. One so long we need four people to hold the train. I want to scream in front of a crowd that I love you with every ounce of my being and that I am the lucky fucker who gets to keep you.”

I bite back my smirk, bubbles of giddiness popping in my chest. I hum as if there’s any possible answer but yes. “Will your mom be invited?”

His mouth grows closer to mine, his eyes narrow. “Only if she apologizes to your satisfaction.”

I brush his hair back from his face. “What if I don’t want a big wedding and I just want it to be my friends and your brothers?”

He lowers, lips brushing mine. “I’ll give you anything you want, Nymph. Just ask.”

“I love you.” I lift up to kiss him, and he pulls back.

“And?” He gives me a look that says he’ll happily wait all day.

“And I’d be honored to marry you. Again.”

He captures my mouth in a kiss so tender it steals my breath away. His hands map out my body, taking their time to worship every inch of me. My alarm goes off again, but I’m too lost to his touch to care.

Forty-five minutes later, I’m still wrapped in his arms. I’m cocooned in a place I never want to leave, but I know if I don’t get up now, there’s no leaving this bed today.

I place a chaste kiss on his chest and push up. “I have to get up. I’m already going to be late.”

“Fine,” he huffs, rolling onto his back. “I’ve been putting off checking in with Matthias.” He twists my bracelet around my wrist. “I’ll see you later.

I run my finger along the smooth metal that’s brought me comfort, fiddling with it countless times. “Is this really a tracker?”

I should be disgusted—hell, terrified—but all I am is elated. “Of course it is. You know, you’re basically a walking red flag.”

He smirks. “You love that about me.”

Fuck it. “I really do.”

I sent the girls a group chat message saying I was running late, giving me enough time to shower and put myself into some semblance of put together. I chose a light green sundress that lands just below my knees and twisted my hair up in a claw clip, too exhausted to pull off anything else.

The group chat immediately blew up with a dozen lewd comments about Damon and me disappearing off the face of the Earth for the last few days.

The sun beams warmth down on me as I walk toward the cafe where I’m meeting the girls. There’s an overwhelming lightness filling my chest, an almost giddy happiness overtaking my every sense. Everything feels perfect in the world.

Sometimes it’s hard to spot the pretty in a city, but the birds are chirping, and the leaves are turning to a rusty red, giving a hint of the fall to come. Soon, it’ll be sweater weather, filled with pumpkin spice lattes and Ugg boots. I cannot wait to see Damon’s face when I pull out my Snuggie covered in cat faces.

There’s a lady up the sidewalk from me. She can’t be more than a few years older. Her clothes fit her perfectly, the seams crisp and pressed, making her stand out like a sore thumb in this neighborhood. And by the way she’s looking at her phone, then up and down the street, she’s clearly out of her comfort zone.

“Do you know where you’re going?” I give her my friendliest smile, knowing people do not trust strangers out here, and just hope that my being another woman will help ease that anxiety.

She’s wearing her own smile, but it’s tight, curved too high to the right, like there’s something wrong to it. Like it wants to be three times the size, but she’s holding it back.

“Yeah, sorry, I think I got off the bus at the wrong stop.”

I give her outfit another glance over, spotting her Hermès purse, and tension grows in my spine. This is not the type of lady that takes the bus.

“Oh, that totally sucks. Which route did you take? The D1 or V2?” I ask, knowing damn well neither of these exist—Boston doesn’t use letters for their routes.

A thin line forms between her brows. “Definitely the D1. Was that not right?”

Unease settles over my shoulders, and I take a tentative step back. The stranger catches the movement and shakes her head.

“No use doing that. You’re not going anywhere, Misty.”

Tires squeal from around the corner, a van pulling up to the curb, its large side door sliding open to reveal a man I’ve never seen before holding a gun right at my face.

Every survival episode has taught me not to get into the vehicle. That nothing good comes at the second location, so I do what feels insane and run.

I only make it three strides before a firm arm bands around my stomach, the force knocking my breath away. I heave to get air into my lungs just as a cloth is wrapped over my mouth.

The world goes black.

My body rocks like it’s riding a wave, the motion making my mouth fill with saliva as I try to hold down my already twisting stomach. The screech of brakes cuts through my blinding headache. The world slowly filters in around me, but nothing that’s happening makes any sense. The last thing I remember is walking to meet up with the girls.

No…the last thing I remember is a too-wide smile and deep black hair. Fuck.

Fear crashes through me, and I struggle to keep my breathing even. The last thing I need right now is for them to figure out I’m not asleep.

I push through the pain in my head and try to get my bearings. I’m lying on something hard, but it’s not cold like metal. More like metal covered in some kind of scratchy fabric. Tears sting the back of my eyes, realizing I’m in the back of the van.

“Wake up,” a deep voice says and punctuates it with a kick to my sternum.

The air knocks from my lungs, and I gag as I try to inhale, coughing until acid fills my mouth.

“You’re awake. Good,” the man says, using his foot to roll me onto my back. There are no windows in the back, so the only light filters through the windshield, giving everything a muted gray tone.

“Fuck you.” I spit the bile pooling in my mouth in his direction, earning me another kick.

He waits until I recover to speak again. “Do you remember me?”

I scan his face, searching for recognition in every detail, and the realization hits me harder than any kick ever could. Anthony Ricci looks down at me with hate in his eyes, like I’m a disgusting bug that he can’t wait to crush.

“You didn’t think he’d tell me? Thomas was my favorite cousin, after all. Of course he told me all about his whore of an ex, who’d walk around like a fucking tease.” Anthony smiles, and it’s the most sadistic thing I’ve ever seen. There’s a pride emanating from him that makes my stomach flip. “He taught you a lesson, didn’t he? He taught you all about what happens to little unimportant sluts that go around being a tease. Tell me, how did you end up with Damon? Hmm? Did you spread those pretty legs for him? Did you give it up like the fucking whore you are?”

I open my mouth to call him an asshole, to tell him to fuck off and his cousin deserved everything he got, but nothing comes out.

“Nothing to say? Fear will do that to you. Awful, isn’t it? When you’re helpless?”

I grip my bracelet, the only thing grounding me. They won’t have noticed I’m missing yet, so all I have to do is stay alive. Damon’s coming. He promised.

Delicate fingers grasp my wrist and try to pull it toward them. I grip it tight to my chest, holding it to me with my other hand.

The lost girl from the street gives me a sweet, sickening smile. Any hope I had that she’d call the police is washed away by the realization she’d set me up.

Her nails dig into my wrist, and warm liquid drips down my fist, but I don’t let go, knowing this is my last lifeline.

Cool metal is pressed into my forehead, drawing my attention, and my eyes focus on a black gun handle, a thick finger wrapped around the trigger. “Give her your fucking hand.”

My chin quivers as I loosen my grip, letting her pull my arm toward her. She immediately tries to remove my bracelet. I grunt when the metal ridge is stopped by my bones.

The woman’s fingers are replaced by male hands, and I hiss out in pain when he tries to rip it off.

“It slides on, but it doesn’t slide off, asshole.” Serves him fucking right.

But the way his smile grows tells me I’ve made a terrible mistake. He holds my wrist so my pinky is against the van floor and my thumb is in the air.

“No!” I rip my hand back, freeing it for a split second, but there’s no time for relief. He shoves my hand back into place, his strength at least doubling my own.

He moves so that I’m forced to look at his face. “I want you to know I’m going to enjoy this.”

His boot comes down on my wrist, filling the van with a sickening crunch as the thin bones crack. My vision goes white with the pain, my scream caught in my throat as he does it again.

Tears pour down my cheeks, and I beg him to stop.

My limbs convulse as I try to drag my injured hand against my chest, but Anthony doesn’t let go. Instead, he slides the bracelet I’ve loved over my damaged hand.

I scream at the excruciating pain as the metal finally clears my fingers.

He releases his hold, concentrating on the bracelet.

I use my good arm to move as far away from him as the tight space will allow, holding my broken wrist instinctively to my chest.

He turns it in his fingers. “This is a precise piece of technology. Expertly hidden from the unknowing eye. I’ll admit, I probably wouldn’t have figured it out if it wasn’t for the fact…” He grins at me. “That the Ricci family is the one that created it.”

The van slows, and my body rocks when it comes to a stop, pain lancing down my arm with the unexpected motion.

He hands the bracelet to the woman. “Make sure it keeps moving. We want him chasing after it instead of looking for us.”

She smiles at him, and it’s clear she’s in love. That she’ll do anything this sicko tells her. All hope is crushed when the sliding door shuts behind her.

The line that ties me to Damon, effectively cut. My teeth rattle against each other.

Anthony grips my chin, holding another cloth to my face.

“He can look all he wants, but he won’t find you. No one will.”