16. Amorette
AMORETTE
I heard his voice through the door.
Addict, the one who brought me here.
As soon as voices started lobbying back and forth, I’d slid to the floor, tilting my ear to the crack. They probably knew I would try to listen to their conversation, but it wouldn’t have mattered. Every word I could make out was Spanish.
Damn it. Too many of them knew I didn’t speak it.
Instead of getting a crick in my neck, I stood back up and examined the room.
This was obviously someone’s room. There were personal items everywhere.
In the bathroom, there were hygiene products, different from what was in the other apartment.
Clothes were in the dresser and the closet.
Shoes at the bottom of said closet, all designer and about three full sizes bigger than my size five and a half.
All of my girlfriends back home always made fun of my small stature and feet. Said my personality was too big for my body, but if my body matched, I’d intimidate people from my sheer size.
I grinned as I ran my finger over the dresser on my way to the window. Grace was my identical twin and had just as big of a personality. Though where I was a bulldog, she was a bit of a princess. Then again, her armor left that impression on everyone. They didn’t see the warrior beneath the beauty.
Missing her was a punch in the chest.
Blinds and sheer curtains covered the window. I pulled the string to open them, seeing the sun was starting to set and the leaves of the palm trees swayed in the light breeze. We were on the first floor and the wall surrounding the yard blocked my view of the town beyond.
Men of all ages, though I’d say most of them were in their twenties, either walked the perimeter or sparred in a makeshift ring in the middle of the grass.
There was also a luxury outdoor kitchen with an awning to block the counters and appliances from the wind, along with a stone fireplace on one end.
They were laughing, cutting up, and relaxing. Like this was some kind of military resort.
My brain fritzed. How was I supposed to make sense of this type of place and this type of experience when I knew they were bad people? Bad men who did bad things. I just couldn’t see their evil on the surface.
From my brief encounters, the brothers didn’t seem like the men in that other place.
Although that didn’t mean they weren’t just as evil.
Clearly, they were complicit. A trickle of guilt and confusion cut through me as I tried to reconcile my thoughts and feelings, because without the high-tension violence that was a constant in that warehouse, here I mostly experienced relief at being safe.
Or quasi-safe?
Images of that man flashed through my eyes while he pushed the gun under my chin. I couldn’t even recall what he looked like, except his eyes had been such a dark brown they were nearly black. I’d fallen into his gaze, and I hadn’t been able to look anywhere else. I had been trapped.
The dark slashes of his eyebrows had cut low giving him a menacing look, even while he fisted my hair to yank my head back. Pain burst, but I hadn’t allowed myself to flinch. No way would I give him the pleasure of knowing he had hurt me.
That must have been Andre, their other brother.
I didn’t doubt the gun was real. I didn’t doubt he was a man who could kill if provoked, maybe even without the provocation.
But even as I had glared at him, daring him to kill me, to add one more stain to his dark soul, he hadn’t.
Instead, his black eyes held an immeasurable amount of pain and fear.
But these were the bad guys. I had to remember that. I couldn’t go assigning human emotions to their actions as if that justified what he did. I mean, he fucking tossed me in here like I was last week’s trash.
Behind me, the door opened. I thought about not turning at all, giving in to my immature need to be angsty and belligerent. But, at the end of the day, I valued my life. To not look was to give whoever it was an opportunity to get close.
Grey stood in the doorway, one hand on the doorknob and one on the frame. He grinned wildly. “They’re gone, mamí . You can come back out now that the big bad wolf has left.” He pushed away and left the door open.
I followed, needing to know more about who held me as much as I needed to be around someone else. Anyone else. After being alone for so long, my sanity was starting to fray at the edges. It definitely explained why solitude was a form of torture.
He’d already taken up a spot on the couch again, but when he saw me, he lifted the top of the coffee table, pulled a blanket out, and tossed it next to him.
I paused.
This was so weird. I half-expected to wake up from a dream and still find myself locked up in that pretty prison of an apartment or still with the other girls in the cage. Part of me felt like that was the better option, because I could trust that.
“Come on.” He patted the seat next to him. “I don’t bite. Much,” he said through a devious smirk. “I’ll find something to put on TV for us.”
Pushing past my own mental issues, I walked around the far side of the coffee table and plopped down on the sofa, pulling the blanket on top of me. I made sure to stay on the end, leaving a whole cushion between us.
Grey was a giant of a man who was too large for the couch. Although you’d never know it from the comfortable way he stretched out over it. He turned to the corner and propped one leg over the table as he surfed the TV. Netflix. So surreal.
He was still shirtless, the shorts hanging low over his hips and that delicious V most men coveted but could never obtain was on full display. Grey was sexy and he didn’t care. It was attractive.
I wanted to smack myself. How could I have such normal thoughts?
"You like Spartacus ?” He flicks his green gaze my way, a smile tugging at his lips.
Actually, I loved that show. It showed male nudity instead of pretending like dicks were more important than vaginas and boobs. The love stories and tragedies in season one were also as epic as they were heartbreaking. “Only season one.”
“I feel you. Andy Whitfield made the show. The guy they replaced him with did terrible things for the character,” he agreed.
Unable to take it, I cracked. I laughed like someone in a psych ward who had lost touch with reality and hadn’t realized it. When my mirth started to wane, I peeked at Grey through slitted, tear-filled eyes. He looked a mix between amused and concerned.
“What’s funny?” he rumbled, adjusting to reach out and lay a hand on my knee.
I’d brought my legs up crisscross style, apparently making it easy for him to touch me. His hand was huge on my bare thigh. His palm warm.
I held my breath, the hair on the back of my neck standing up as I waited to see what he would do. Was this the moment he showed that he truly was a monster who preyed on women?
“I didn’t kill your cat.”
Confused, I shot my gaze to him. He tightened his grip on my leg, his ring finger and pinky too far on my inner thigh. Only, he didn’t do anything else. That small squeeze was to get my attention.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked, not moving. He still seemed like my safest bet to leave this place, even if he said it was impossible.
“I touched you, and your face dropped like you were afraid I was going to hurt you,” he answered, his voice steady and calm. He still didn’t remove his hand. His touch burned through me in more ways than I’d like to admit.
Was I this hard up for human interaction that I’d accept, and even want, the touch from someone who was holding me captive? Even if he wasn’t the aggressor but merely a bystander who chose to side with his brother?
Could I even blame him for that? If I had to choose between Grace and anyone else, I’d always choose her and keep her safe. But she wasn’t a criminal, and she would never hurt anyone in any way. Not on purpose.
As much as I was afraid of him taking advantage of me, my dark curiosity lurked beneath the surface. I sneered at him.
Grey barked out a laugh. “You’re tough. I’m not saying you’re not, but you still looked scared.” He shrugged like the truth was what it was, and he wouldn’t lie to me.
His honesty was refreshing, giving me something I could count on, even if he was wrong in what he’d seen. I wouldn’t accept anything else.
Instead of acknowledging my fear or something else, I answered his other question.
“I laughed because this is so bizarre, don’t you think?
Your brother kidnapped me, you also won’t help me leave, and now we’re discussing a series with similar opinions.
It’s hurting my head to have that conversation with you. ”
The lingering smile had lost some of its amusement and what was left taunted me. “Why?”
I studied him. He knew why, but he wanted to make me say it.
“Because we have similar opinions, but we’re very different people,” I finally said.
He nodded like he agreed but was mocking me. “You’re right. Because you’re some abused, scared ,” he snickered on that word, “woman who shouldn’t have anything in common with the thug involved in a crime organization. Right?”
Yes, but I couldn’t say that. It would sound silly and narrow-minded if I voiced my agreement. So, I stared at him, willing him to fill in the void between us. If he wanted me to pretend we were besties just vegging out in front of the TV, he could add the commentary.
“I get it,” he said as he swiped his free hand through his hair.
The dirty blond locks stayed back from his face, making his expression sharper, darker.
“You want to make me the bad guy. But, Amorette…” Chills erupted on my arms and legs when he said my name.
The sweetness in his voice made it seem like we were friends.
Lies. I couldn’t forget this was all lies.
Could I?
“I’m not the bad guy. You’re not the hero—”
I was the hero. He just didn’t know me.
“We’re people. Every single person on this planet does good just as they do evil.
We’re all dealt a specific hand in life, and we have to play the cards we’re dealt.
We make the best decisions based on how long we want to live.
You just happened to be thrown into a world where people are required to do bad things to survive.
” His words were so blasé. Did he honestly believe that? People always had a choice. Always.
“There are bad people out there. Wife beaters, rapists, pedophiles,” I ticked off my fingers, getting heated that he could think something so… off the mark.
“You’re right. Anyone who forces themselves on women or children are the scum of the Earth.
My brothers and I decided a long time ago, in a world where we have a broken moral compass, that was a line we would never cross.
I don’t rape, and I don’t raise my hands against women and children.
What are your other requirements to have a conversation with you? ”
“Fuck you.”
“Gladly,” he grinned, leaning in as if he was going to kiss me.
I knocked his hand away and pushed him back as hard as I could. He went easily like he’d never meant to go through with it in the first place. As if he had been pretending .
He chuckled. “It was a joke. Relax. I just told you I would never force you.”
“But you’d sleep with me if I let you?”
Grey didn’t answer immediately. He trailed his hot gaze over my body, stopping at my chest, then coming back to stare into my eyes as if he wanted to make sure there was absolutely no doubt in my mind.
“I will fuck you. Maybe not tonight or tomorrow. But soon. When you’re ready.
You can’t tell me you don’t feel the lust between us. ”
I inhaled a shaky breath as tingles raced over my body.
It was purely a human reaction. It didn’t mean anything.
“I’m not sleeping with you. You and your brothers kidnapped me.
” I enunciated each word with a sneer so he’d have no doubt about where I stood.
It didn’t matter that only Addict had taken me.
They were all banded together in my mind.
Shit. I was supposed to be making friends with him. Not antagonizing him. Damn it .
He gave me an out. One, I tried not to think too hard on, because I could almost believe it to make my life easier. “Your life, whatever is left of it, is here with us. We’re never going to let you go. But you don’t have to be a prisoner, either. What privileges you have are entirely up to you.”
He didn’t understand what they were asking of me. The only thing I knew was that I’d play along for now. Before I could answer, he continued.
“Which reminds me. You’re with me for now. You can sleep in the spare room you got the clothes from. There’s an alarm on the door that requires a code to exit. You break the glass to escape through the windows, you will die.”
The way he said that with no emotion, like he couldn’t care if I lived or died, right after he said he wanted to fuck me, threw ice water on whatever kind feelings I had for him.
“Now, you want to start from the beginning?” He grinned and nudged my knee with his.
“Sure.” See? I could be friendly.