Chapter Thirteen
Mindy
Seeing his face for the first time should’ve been alarming, but it wasn’t for me.
It was breathtaking and heroic, something I didn’t quite expect from a face riddled with scars.
He reminded me of the Two Face villain from Batman, but more handsome, his scars giving him life instead of creating the monster he sees in the mirror.
After Moseley’s “little talk,” I could see why he chose to show up today. He was there to protect me, knowing that the man who gave me my bakery was the same man who carelessly played with my life.
“Now, Ms. St. John, I hope this won’t be a common occurrence.”
“What are you talking about, Mr. Moseley?”
“Him, his club. We can’t have that kind of riff-raff hanging around a place of business, especially one with my name on it.”
“He’s just a friend, Mr. Moseley.”
“Oh really? Because it looked like you and that friend were seconds away from becoming more than just friends. If me and Rico hadn’t pounded on the door, who knows what would have happened?”
We would have kissed, and it would have been glorious!
“Mr. Moseley, what I do behind closed doors really isn’t any of your business.”
I didn’t like the way he smiled after that. It was sinister… evil. The kind of smile that makes babies cry and skin crawl.
“See, that’s where you’re wrong, Ms. St. John.”
“What do you mean?”
He twirled the corners of his mustache gleefully. “How well did you read your contract?”
“Well, I read most of it.”
He laughed. Not just a chuckle either. It was a laugh that had his whole belly jiggling.
“Just as I thought, seeing as you didn’t come up to me asking about Clause 42.”
“Clause 42?”
“The marriage clause.”
“Marriage?”
Now his laugh just sounded hideous. “You see, Ms. St. John, I’m a man of many talents, and one of my best talents is mergers.
Mergers of businesses, mergers of people…
” He gave me a pointed look, a single eyebrow raising with pride.
“In Clause 42, it clearly states that by signing the lease to my building, you were also signing yourself over to me in a pre-marital merger between yourself and me, or one of my chosen clients. What I didn’t expect was such a difference in age between you and me.
So, I specifically chose you as a potential merger with one of my biggest clients, Mr. Nostra.
I believe you know him as Rico and met him when you first moved in.
He’s also the gentleman who stayed back with your little monstrous biker friend back at the shop. The finest of hired guns.”
Gasping, I took a step back, my legs hitting a table so hard it knocked over a vase.
“Now, what I wasn’t planning on was Mr. Nostra’s aversion to merging with a woman your age. It seems we have similar tastes when it comes to the women we sleep with. We like our ladies young and submissive, with a hymen so fresh and pure it’s just waiting to be popped and soiled by a thick cock.”
Was this really happening?
“Thankfully, Mr. Nostra has other friends who aren’t as… shall we say… choosy when it comes to their women. Men who would pay top dollar to be with a woman with talents such as yours. So instead of sampling you himself, he’s going to sell his merger to someone else.”
“Are you crazy? I’m not agreeing to any of that!”
He laughed. “You don’t really have a choice. Not if you want your little friend over there to live. One text and his life can end right now.” He started to type something on his phone, and I panicked.
“This isn’t legal!” My heart practically stopped in my chest; just the thought of them hurting Krampus broke me in two.
“And yet you signed on the dotted line.” His smirk was a vile combination of conceit and malicious intent. Just looking at it made me want to shed my skin just to shuck off the ick.
“What if I leave town?”
He took a daring step forward. “I’ll find you.”
“What if I leave the country?”
He toyed with his mustache evilly. “I have friends in places you’d never expect, Ms. St. John. Wherever you go, I’ll find you.”
“I’m not agreeing to this! I won’t!”
Moseley moved closer to me. Too close. So close I could smell his foul breath like it was swimming in my nose, the stench of stale cigar smoke and festering wine lingering.
“You don’t have a fucking choice.”
“Everyone has a choice!” I shouted, though I could barely hear my voice over my heart, which was thundering inside my chest.
“Maybe next time you should read the fine print. I own you now, Ms. St. John. Cross me and you’ll lose everything you just started building.”
His threat was clear and concrete, creating a fear I didn’t realize was possible. I’d somehow become a pawn in a sex-trafficking ring, and I believed him when he said there was no way for me to get out.
When his hand touched the small of my back, I jumped about ten feet.
“Don’t you dare touch me!” I screamed.
“Oh, Ms. St. John, how you flatter me. To think a man like me would even be remotely interested in touching a woman of your age.”
It was a dig I accepted whole-heartedly. Sometimes I got the feeling that he liked me more than just a tenant, and just the thought of it made my stomach roll with unease.
“Good. Because the feeling is most-definitely mutual.”
He looked over at me and sneered. “This is where we lay out our ground rules, Ms. St. John. First, I don’t want to see that filthy biker hanging around your shop anymore.
Mr. Nostra doesn’t like his toys played with by others, and he doesn’t like the way that man looks at you.
If he’s going to successfully seal this merger, he needs you in pristine condition. Untouched. Your purity intact.”
“My purity is far from intact, Mr. Moseley. I lost that years ago.”
He frowned. “Pity. A thirty-year-old virgin would’ve fetched a hefty price from the right people.
Nevertheless, a woman is a woman, and a pussy is a pussy.
Even the most desperate men will pay for a good fuck.
And I bet my last dollar that underneath that bubblegum exterior is a harlot ready to spread her legs and moan. ”
“You’re disgusting!” I yelled, stepping away from him.
He opened his mouth to speak, only to be silenced by a single gunshot exploding next door. Followed quickly by another.
“No!” Instant panic took over me. Krampus!
“Sounds like I may have just lost my bargaining chip, but it also sounds like you may have lost the only person who could help you out of this. Face it, Ms. St. John, I own every part of you now.”
“The only person who owns me is me!” I fire back, wishing I had paid more attention to that stupid contract.
He laughed, pushing past me to see the aftermath next door. “And yet there’s a contract binding us together. Scary how easily you fell for it. Oh, by the way, I expect my portion of your sales from yesterday to be ready by noon. A deal’s a deal after all.”
I hated him.
I hated everything about him.
Something inside me wanted to run out back, hop on my bike, and never look back, but I couldn’t, not when all I could think about was Krampus possibly lying on the floor dead next door.
So, I did the only thing I could. I followed him out of the building, submitting to his garish whims like the little slave he wanted me to be.
Krampus stares at me with widened eyes filled with confusion, like me accepting his real face is like finding a unicorn in a pasture.
“Why are you being so nice to me?” he questions, taking my hand, his fingers quivering.
“I’m just a nice person.”
He frowns, the corners of his mouth dropping in disappointment.
He only softens when my hands cup his face, gently urging him to meet my gaze. “And I like you. It’s not every day you find a man willing to buy your entire stock of baked goods in one morning.”
He laughs. Igniting the fire that he was so cautious to entertain. “I like sweet things.” He blushes, and it’s so adorable I’m practically melting. “Especially ones that dress up like pin-up models and wear cute dresses every day.”
Then he flexes his arm, showing off the tattoo that looks eerily like me. “It’s like you jumped off my skin and came alive just for me.”
My fingers brush over his inked skin, admiring the tattoo, trying to figure out how long he’s had it.
“If you’re wondering how long I’ve had it, I got it when I was twenty. It was my first tattoo.”
“Really?”
He nods. “I wanted the artist to ink up my dream girl for me so I could always have her with me.”
Pools of deep blue lust draw me closer, those eyes creating a wave full of havoc that pulls me in and drowns me with hope. I suck in a breath, unable to speak a coherent syllable without fainting.
The sexual tension is cosmic. The kind of perfection you only see in predictable holiday Hallmark movies.
He curls a stray strand of hair hanging in my eyes behind my ear, his arm curling around my back until I’m practically sitting on his lap. “It’s amazing how the craziest dreams can somehow come true when you wish hard enough.”
He leans in, lips puckered and ready.
And I was into it too, leaning forward ready to claim that man as mine…
but then I heard Moseley’s voice in my head, the hit he put out on Krampus that he has no idea about.
It’s enough to deter me from taking what I want, and I abruptly jerk away, jumping off his lap like kissing him is the last thing I want to do even though it’s the farthest thing from the truth.
The hurt in his eyes kills me.
A hurt that quickly transforms into something close to rage.
He rises slowly, hands clenched, chest puffing like he just grew a new enemy.
Then his eyes lift. A silent tear shimmers in the corner of one of them but refuses to fall.
His frown swiftly turns to a scowl so scorching, I fear I may never feel my skin again without thinking of this look and feeling his pain.
“Guess I read this wrong,” he mutters under his breath. “Don’t worry, Mindy, I won’t make that mistake again.”
Then he’s gone, marching out of my shop in a fit of rage that I can’t stop.
The door closes between us before I finally find my voice.
“Rich, wait!”
But it’s too late… his bike's already revved up and gone before I even make it to the door.
My protector gone… probably forever.