Taking Over the Dark (High Stakes Syndicate #2)

Chapter 16

SIXTEEN

NASH

Ellie smashes her lips to mine, and for now, that’s enough.

I will never rush her into love, but I know she’s capable of it. She’s scared of it, or maybe of getting hurt, and the commitment of it all. Before this, it was all fun and games to her, but now she’s realizing none of us ever want to let her go. I find myself wondering who hurt her, but I don’t think it was a relationship that caused her calloused look on love…

It was her mom.

Between what Ellie has told me about her mother, and what Marcello has added, the love she should have gotten from her mother was never given, causing her heart to freeze over in order to protect itself. My father may be the same way, but it’s almost expected out of men… sadly. But never experiencing your mother’s love has to be hard to deal with. She shoves that hole full of whatever she can find within herself—hiding those feelings with a hard exterior, trying to make up for what she never got in the first place.

She wants to be enough on her own, but she doesn’t see that she is just that—enough. Plenty, actually. And I want all of her. Every broken piece. I crave to see what’s in that pretty head of hers. However she’ll have me. I’ll hand this damaged heart of mine over to her in my own hands.

This kiss isn’t rushed and is not overly hot, either. It’s just what we both need after being on the brink of death, and surprisingly, I feel pretty good for how dehydrated I know my body had to be.

Marcello’s voice cuts through our kiss, causing us to break apart. We both look toward his office. Zamir is nowhere to be seen, while Cello wears a devilish grin and purrs through the intercom, “When you two are finished being angry and sucking face, come to my special room. I have a fun plan for all of us.” And with that, he spins on his heel, and we watch as he walks out of his office.

? * “I’m slightly afraid to see what we’re about to walk into, but I guess we’ll never know until we go, right?” Ellie asks, and I don’t miss the way that could be used in the same context as her finally admitting her feelings for me… or us, for that matter.

I whine, “Yeah, but can we try to find some kind of shower first?” The feeling of the grime and sand that’s been covering me for days is too much for my overstimulated brain.

“We sure can,” she says as she shoots me a wink, pulling me up and off the metal table. She adds, “You’ll feel better after not lying on this horrendous metal table. I could kick Cello’s ass for having these.”

I just chuckle and let her drag me to wherever she thinks there’s some water and soap.

After the most glorious shower of Ellie and I cleaning one another from head to toe, we stumble out into the main hallway of the warehouse. My dick is straining against whoevers sweatpants these are. I’m guessing Cello’s or Vin’s maybe. While showering was amazing, the shower itself looked like something they use after getting into questionable activities, so I’m not asking any questions. If they want me to have the info, they’ll give it to me.

We walk hand in hand down the massive hallways, looking into the glass front of each room we pass. Marcello said something about his “special room,” whatever the hell that means. All these rooms seem special to me, but again, I’m letting Ellie lead the way. She hasn’t steered us wrong yet today.

? * A whimper hits my ears, sounding like it came from the end of the hall. I look down at Ellie, and the grin that spreads across her face would give a full moon a run for its money with the ability to light up the night sky.

Speed walking to the end of the hallway and turning the corner, we seem to enter another world.

“What is this, Marcello? Sins on wheels?” Ellie questions, and I can’t stop myself from busting out laughing.

She’s so fucking funny, dude.

The walls are a deep-emerald green, and the lights are turned down so low that it takes a minute for my eyes to fully adjust and take everything in. Once they’re adjusted, they land on a tied-up Zamir, hanging by his wrists to hooks on the ceiling, completely bare. He has a bandage over his left peck, and I itch to run up to him and make sure he’s okay.

Marcello responds to Ellie, “No, Ragazza Dolce, this room was built for my enjoyment, and maybe all of your enjoyment as well… but most things you can find at Sins, you can also find here.” The cocky bastard’s smirking like always. Marcello’s only in his suit pants, slung low enough that when he turns around, I can see the muscular V that runs above his ass cheeks.

Why that’s so hot on a man, I’ll never know.

I watch as Marcello walks over to the oversized sage-green, double-door storage cabinet, opening both doors to search for whatever he needs. We’re all blessed in the ass department, but Marcello may have the juiciest ass I’ve seen on a man. The perfect round globes that seem to be worked out so evenly has drool practically running down my chin. I need to find out who his tailor is and kiss them on the cheek because fuck, those maroon suit pants may as well be painted on him. He spins around on his heel with a tubular metal-looking cage.

“Is that a cock cage?!” Ellie asks.

Marcello explains, “It is; he doesn’t get to enjoy being hard. He has to focus on what he needs to confess to, and then you both can decide what you want to do moving forward. I’m sure you’re both very confused about his role in all of this, and I know it’ll be another day or two until you’re both back to a hundred percent, so I figured I’d make it easier for both of you.”

Marcello looks back at me, raising his brows before he starts touching Zamir. I give him a quick nod, letting him know this is fine with me. I don’t know if he expected jealousy from me, but I don’t feel any. I’ve quickly learned that I like watching just as much as participating. Marcello will be good for Zamir. He’ll be able to feed that dark and depraved side of Zamir’s soul that I can’t. And by the look of the erection Marcello’s sporting behind his pants, he’s just as excited to get a hold of Zamir as we are.

Marcello pulls the lock off the cock cage and detaches the part for Zamir’s dick, holding it in one hand. I’m watching with rapt attention. I’ve never even seen a cock ring used, let alone a cage. He places Zamir’s balls through the cock ring, pulling them to the end and pushing his fallcid dick through. How Zamir isn’t hard from looking at Marcello, and being at his mercy, I’ll never know. He slides Zamir’s cock in the cage, lining up the top of the cage in the post and putting the lock on it like the cherry on top.

A shiver racks my body at the thought of how painful it would be to get hard in that thing, and that may just be why Zamir was controlled enough to not get hard.

Ellie’s voice pulls me back to the present. “Marcello, I’m still pissed the fuck off at you as well, but knowing you’re just a protective asshole, you probably had some dumb reason for what you did.” She raises her hand to keep him from talking and adds, “I don’t want to hear you talking. I’m sure you have a gag in your fun little cabinet. I’m not afraid to use it and put you in the corner to watch if need be.” My cock shouldn’t be jumping at the thought of Marcello gagged, but I clearly have no control over that thing.

I watch as they battle silently with looks. Ellie wins… this time. She keeps going, starting with her questions to Zamir, “All this is pointed to you, Zamir.”

All he responds with is, “I know.”

There is no way…

There is no way he set us up.

There is no fucking way he was dumb enough to cross Marcello Barone.

Marcello would’ve killed him already, right?!

He hangs his head, explaining, “It’s my family… not me.”

With no sympathy, Ellie deadpans, “That would be a good excuse to keep you around, and you know it.”

Zamir turns to look at Marcello and asks him, “Cello, can you take my bandage off?”

I watch as Marcello reaches out and pulls off the gauze and tape covering Zamir’s heart. Ellie gasps, and I take a few steps closer to look at red, angry-looking skin. I quickly realize it’s a skin brand and matches the ones they gave those Albanian men not long ago.

I ask before I talk myself out of it, “Does this mean you went against Marcello?”

“No. I made Marcello brand me to show my loyalty to him and his family.” I look at Marcello and he gives me a nod, and I step back beside Ellie.

I let Ellie focus back on the questions while I openly appreciate Zamir’s body. He looks incredible stretched out like he is. Every visible piece of skin is covered in tattoos up to the blacked-out circle around the shaft of his cock. But the canvas is what I’m appreciating. The fine-tuned muscles in his arms are flexing, trying to relieve some of the weight from his wrists, which in turn is causing his whole stomach and obliques to ripple in the most delicious way.

It’s sinful what I would do to trace those obliques with my tongue…

My eyes travel further down his body. Some of his tattoos look newer and more intricate, but some I can tell he got back before he was even old enough to be getting his body permanently inked. This is my favorite thing about tattoos: some are meant to tell a story, and some may just be for fun, but you can always tell the age of how long they’ve lived on someone’s body, and what that person has gone through since.

Ellie’s next question comes. “Did you really go to your apartment when you texted that to Nash?”

“No,” is all Zamir gives her.

Marcello elaborates, “We have video of him knocked out, being carried and thrown into a supply closet at the stadium. He doesn’t come out until an hour later, well after the both of you were taken.”

In a weak voice, I ask, “Is this all because you didn’t want to be seen with me in public?”

Zamir immediately raises his head, looks me straight in the eyes, and ends all my doubts. “Nash, I would call a press conference right now and confess my lo—my… you know what? I don’t care anymore. I would confess my love for you to millions of people right now. I will never keep you hidden away, Djale I Bukur. ”

My heart is beating out of my chest, and if the heat rising from it and up into my cheeks is any indication, I know my face is as red as a beet.

“You both clearly know what actually happened, so why don’t you tell us Zamir?” Ellie says to him and Marcello.

“I wanted you both to find out the way Marcello did, so I didn’t look as guilty. None of this looks good, and that’s exactly what Vito and Agron wanted.”

I butt in before he keeps going because I’m lost. “Pause… which ones are these again?”

“Vito is my uncle and Alex’s father. Agron is my father…” He trails off and waits for me. I nod, giving him the ok to continue. “We still don’t know the full extent of everything, but they paid one of the players to drug me in the locker room and carry me to the supply closet. Someone hacked into my phone and sent you those texts right before you both were taken by who I’m assuming were Albanian men. You were both drugged and dropped in what we now know was an underground Faraday cage to sit there and die. Alex and Arben, our family hacker, found out about the bunker and saw that our fathers were on the move heading that way, and so did we…”

“And that’s when you found us. Cut the dramatics,” Ellie says with a roll of her eyes.

“Right before we found my uncle sliced up, dead, laying in a pool of his blood,” he says like it was no big deal. “I’ve known I cared for the both of you for a while now, but when walking up on my dead uncle, the only thing I could think of was where you two were and was hoping to anyone listening that my father had left you two alone. I knew then and there that I had made the right choice, choosing Marcello and both of you.”

My nose starts to sting, and tears begin to pool in the corners of my eyes.

I’ve never had anyone choose me.

* ? Addicted - Saving Abel

* ? Make Me Feel - Elvis Drew