Chapter Twenty-Eight
Livia
It’s okay. I’m okay.
I’ve been telling myself that the entire morning while Veronica insists I take the day off from the diner. She knows what happened with Lucky Law and thinks I need time to process things.
I don’t.
But my mind has other thoughts. “Am I only going to see them when they babysit me at work?” It’s a strange question to ask, but I tell myself I need to know their whereabouts. If so, and if I see Deacon today, then it would have been three days since I’ve last seen Callen. Not that it matters. It doesn’t.
“Yes, until after the ritual, that is,” Veronica says. “Once that is done, you’ll be having dinner with them every night, and you’ll be moved to the third floor, which is just a bedroom that takes up the whole floor. You’ll be sharing that bedroom with your husbands.”
I can’t get to that point. Whatever the ritual entails, it can never happen.
“Are you sure you don’t want to stay in today?” Veronica mistakes the sudden paleness in my face for being overwrought after yesterday’s events. She doesn’t know I can’t be near them. I can’t share a room with them.
“You’ll have enough time to rest and regroup, darling.”
I shake my head. If I stop, every single thing that happened to me will come crashing down around me, and I’ll have a complete, irreparable nervous breakdown. I don’t have the time for that right now. So I’m showered, changed into my waitress uniform, and on my way to do my Sunday lunch shift at Jimmy’s.
But reality bombards me from all sides. I acted out of character again yesterday with Mason. I’m not like that—I continue making excuses for myself. The truth is, I was scared, and Mason made me feel safe, and the closer I got to him, the safer I felt until I needed him inside me, stoking that strange feeling all three of them are capable of evoking inside my body.
Yet again, I’ve been left with a feeling of guilt, the same as it was with Callen when he made me come. I shouldn’t be doing that. But in all my self-flagellation, I remember what Veronica said about their cocks and their semen: that it was sacred. About what Mason had told me yesterday and how when he comes inside me, it’ll be him completely and nothing of his lowlife, deadbeat father.
I stop all my thoughts right there and continue getting ready for my shift for Sunday lunch at the diner.
Also, Kayla has everything I need to escape in her possession.
It’s too risky for her to come by and give it to me herself, so she’s going to slip it under the door before the diner opens. If the envelope is addressed to me, Babs will keep it safe until I get there.
The envelope will contain plane tickets for my new identity, bus tickets, a key to a deposit box for cash, and a key to an apartment in another country. I don’t know the details, even though they assured me they wouldn’t be tracking this phone because they didn’t need to. If I escaped, they would find me their own way. But just to be on the safe side, even I don’t know where I’ll be going.
I don’t want to leave. And I know Kayla only did all this because I asked her to and because she wanted me to have the option.
I keep replaying my choices in my head. I’m trapped here. I can’t go see my father, never mind that he’s completely avoiding me, because they told me I couldn’t see him. Faith and my FFF girls can visit any time they want, and I can go and see them, but I’ll definitely be accompanied by one of them.
I can’t go anywhere alone. Absolutely nowhere.
I’m their prisoner. If I do nothing, I will remain here doing the same thing every day for, god knows, how long. Until they get tired of me? Veronica told me to give up hoping that day would arrive when they tire of me and send me back home—if they were going to do that, they would never have married me.
But why are they keeping me? Why did they marry me? I still maintain it’s because of Kirill Yenin, but they didn’t have to marry me instead, did they? I’m asking the same questions over and over again, and it makes me want to scream.
But do I accept this kind of life? For the rest of my life? I have everything I could possibly want, as Veronica says.
And yet, everything inside me tells me I have to leave. I have to go see my father. I don’t know why I feel this way, just that if I don”t something bad… something horrific is going to happen. And every day that I don’t speak to him, things are getting worse.
It’ll be a week since I was last home, and my father hasn’t even attempted to make any contact with me. Has he just abandoned me?
I understand if he were threatened and afraid for his life, but I’m his daughter. If it were my child in this situation, I would risk everything to get her back.
Is a new start with a new identity the answer? The thought of leaving behind my life here, of never seeing Faith again, and of losing my friends is too catastrophic to think about.
So I’ll take the envelope as a backup plan, which means it’s Plan B, but I don’t have a Plan A—or rather, is my Plan A just going to be waiting for them to release me of their own accord?
Also, I still have some time. They haven’t yet made me their true Ursid bride. I’m not sharing their bedroom yet, although I don’t know how that would change the status of my captivity. I can’t be more of a captive now than I will be then. And I still don’t know what a Ursid bride ritual entails.
The question makes my head want to explode.
There’s nothing I can do right now except do what I’m supposed to do. Go to work and that means Deacon will be the one babysitting me today. I’m so over these men that I refuse to give them any more thinking time.
Keeping a stoic look on my face, I march downstairs, find Deacon waiting for me in his damn perfectly tailored bespoke suit, and grunt a greeting his way. He does the same.
“Please, can no one be killed today,” I say as soon as he takes off.
I’m sure I imagine it, but was that a slight grin on Deacon’s face that I saw from his side profile and a soft, husky chuckle to go with it? I never thought he was capable of smiling but since Mason made it clear they tell each other everything when it comes to me, he knows about the informant Callen killed, and Lucky Law, who Mason killed well, because he tried to kill me. Yes, this is my life right now.
He also knows that both Callen and Mason touched me.
“How long are you planning on keeping me?” I ask my customary twenty questions.
“You already know the answer.”
“Forever is not an answer. I want my life back. I want to be released.”
“This is your life now.”
“What about my father? You can’t keep me from seeing him for the rest of my life.”
“We can do anything we want when it comes to keeping you safe, Livia.”
I open my mouth to speak, but then I frown instead. He’s my father. He wouldn’t intentionally hurt me, not physically. But he did force me to say yes to marrying someone to save his business and that person, according to Deacon, Callen, and Mason, runs a bratva unit. Honestly, how can this be my life now?
I fold my arms over my chest and look ahead at the road until Deacon parks his massive, scary-looking black SUV at the back entrance of Jimmy’s. I know the drill. Deacon will follow me inside. He’ll take the same seat in the same booth that Callen and Mason have before him, and I’ll have to endure his presence for four full whole hours.
When I’m in the kitchen, Babs hands me the envelope, and luckily Deacon can’t see into the back of the kitchen from his seat. I quickly shove it into the tote bag I carry with me.
Now all the papers, cash, and flight and bus tickets I need are in my possession. I could easily slip out of the kitchen and never look back.
I have four hours to do so.
Just before the diner can start filling up, and I’ve done a good job of ignoring Deacon, a friendly voice draws my attention to the counter.
“Hey, Livia.”
I turn around and see my friend from school, Randy Morrison. His pleasant eyes and easy demeanor immediately make me smile.
“Where have you been? I missed you the last couple of days,” Randy says, leaning over the counter to get closer to me. I really like him, but not in the capacity of being my boyfriend. I did say no to him once, and I’m glad he was okay with it and respected my decision.
“You still owe me a movie night, and I think I know what I—”
Randy’s voice fades, and in the infinitesimal moment of silence that follows, my blood runs cold.
Deacon.
By the time I round the counter, Deacon is just about to… I don’t know, break Randy’s limbs.
“Can I help you?” Randy asks firmly but politely. Dear god.
I come to stand between Deacon and Randy just seconds before anything happens.
“No, no, you don’t.” I stand up against Deacon. He’s removed his jacket so that when I put my hand out, it presses against his broad muscular chest and the fine thread of his shirt, luxurious under my palm. The steady, strong, unhurried beat of his heart scorches my hand and enflames my whole body.
“I had a life before you completely derailed it. I had friends, and Randy is one of them, so you can’t just—”
“Livia, who is this guy?”
I spin around, but my whole back is flush against Deacon’s as I form a barrier between Randy and him. The power in Deacon’s body surges through me, the bulge in his pants presses against my ass, and I pray my swollen nipples aren’t visible through my shirt or that the scent of my wetness is not noticeable. I’m acting as if I can control him.
“Are you in trouble?” Randy asks, suspicion lining his features, he’s already reaching for his phone to probably call the cops. “Just say the word. I can help,” he continues, but I can also see fear reach his eyes, and he’s torn between staying and running.