Chapter Seventeen
Mindy
“He’s still out there,” I grumble, shooting Amber a pained look.
Krampus has been out there every damn day since our fight, sitting on the bench across the street.
Sometimes I see him parked a few blocks up, always just watching from the sidelines and never venturing inside.
It’s sad, because I pretty much forgave him the second I rode off, but he hasn’t even attempted to make contact with me, just stalks me outside like a weirdo.
“Give him time,” Amber coos, handing a customer her baked goods. “He’s a tough egg to crack, but underneath all that grump is a big ole’ teddy bear.”
“You say that because you’ve known him for years.”
She laughs. “Which is why I know him so well. Rich can be a bit of an asshole at times, but what guy isn’t?”
She shoots me another look of sympathy.
“It’s been almost two weeks. He hasn’t said anything to me. He hasn’t even bought a baked good.”
“That’s because he had enough to last him a lifetime,” Amber says, her chuckle rising above the soft music playing overhead.
“True…”
Our giggles are muffled by the heavy scuff of boots moving across the floor. It’s the same man who shot up my store a few weeks ago, getting into it with Krampus.
“Hi, welcome to Mindy’s Sweets. How can I—”
“Moseley sent me over to fetch you.”
“We’re in the middle of a rush. Can I come over after?”
He shakes his head. “Your presence is requested now.” His tone comes off as a warning, and Amber looks at me with frightened eyes.
“Can you handle it here for a minute?”
She nods, but it’s a bit shaky and nervous.
For a moment, I hesitate following him, knowing damn well he’s the man that Moseley has his ‘merger’ planned with.
We barely make it out the door before my mouth starts moving.
“How are you today?” I ask, purposefully trying to sound sweet.
He tenses for a second but keeps walking, leading me towards Moseley’s den.
Two men are stationed up outside like always, wearing black tailored suits and dark glasses.
They open the door for us, and he doesn’t even let me walk through first, just bullies his way in like he owns the place. What a gentleman.
“So, apparently, you and I are supposed to get married. Isn’t that wild?
I myself think this is a bad idea. You’re not even my type.
I’m a little ole’ chatterbox, and you’re this big, gruff, dangerous man that barely speaks.
If that doesn’t say a match made in H double cinnamon sticks, I don’t know what does. ”
He stops abruptly just past the threshold, the door slamming behind us with a bang.
Then he whips around, his slimy hand slipping around my throat seconds before he pins me against the wall.
“Listen, bitch, I don’t give two fucks what you think about our little arrangement.
” His teeth clench, the stench of his pungent cologne whipping me in the face repulsively.
His grip tightens on my throat, fingers digging into my flesh until my breathing’s constricted.
It’s not enough to crush my windpipe, but enough to make my pulse scream in my ears.
The thunderous tone quickly increases to panicked cries of help.
“You don’t get a say in what happens here.
You’re just going to stand there and look pretty. ”
“Don’t touch me!” I bite back, clawing at his hand still squeezing my throat as his other violently grabs my breast.
My back hits the wall hard enough to knock the breath from my lungs.
Then he inches closer, his mouth covering mine before I can stop him.
It’s not like when I kissed Krampus. His kiss is powerful and possessive, tasting of venom and decay.
There’s nothing pleasing about it, especially when his free hand moves down my body and up into my dress.
“I’ll touch you whatever way I want to, bitch.” His fingers move between my legs, touching me somewhere he shouldn’t.
My hands fly up instinctively, fingers digging into his wrist, desperately clawing at his hand seconds before I clamp down on his lip, drawing blood.
“You little whore!” he rages, hand cracking across my face, whipping it to the side. The pain is instant, a punishing reminder that I’m legally bound to something I had no idea I signed up for.
“Rico, please.”
His fingers dig into my throat, eyes dancing wild with rage.
“That’s Mr. Nostra to you,” he snarls, leaning in so close I can feel his breath on my cheek.
“Biting me was your first mistake,” he growls, wiping the blood from his lip with the back of his sleeve.
“The second is thinking you can be cute and joke around with me. I’m in charge here, little bitch, not you.
When I’m done with you, the only thing sweet about you will be those damn pastries you bake.
I’m gonna fucking love ruining you, stealing that smile and making it disappear, making that positive outlook you have on life turn sour.
I fucking hate people like you. The ones who think you can change everything with happiness and rainbows.
Well, fuck your rainbows, and fuck you too for thinking you have some say on what goes on between us. ”
My heart thuds violently in my chest. Adrenaline turning to fear, his intent clear.
“I didn’t agree to any of this,” I say, my voice shaking despite my best effort. “All I wanted was to open a bakery. If I had known what was in that lease… I would never have signed it.”
His hand slides lower again, this time from my throat to the collar of my dress, fingers tugging at my cleavage just enough to make my skin crawl.
“Oh, sweetheart,” he murmurs, mockingly gentle. “But you did. You signed your life over to Mr. Moseley, and in turn signed your body over to me. At first I was against touching you, but now that I’ve seen your fiery spirit, I might have a bit of fun breaking you in.”
I shove at his chest, panic taking over. “Don’t touch me.”
That’s when his smile turns ugly.
He grips my wrist and slams it against the wall above my head, trapping me. His other hand trails down my side, lingering where it absolutely shouldn’t… again.
Every nerve in my body screams no, but he ignores the signs, intent on taking what’s not his to take.
“Stop,” I gasp, slapping his hand away. “I don’t like that.”
He laughs cruelly. “You’ll learn, little bitch. You’ll learn to enjoy the punishments after a while.”
A door slams open, making us both jump.
Rico steps back instantly, like he wasn’t just pinning me against the wall seconds ago.
My knees wobble, but I stay upright through sheer stubbornness.
Moseley stands in the doorway, perfectly calm. Composed. Staring at us both like he didn’t just interrupt something monstrous.
“What’s all this noise?” he asks mildly.
Rico smooths the lapels of his jacket and sneers. “She was being difficult.”
Moseley’s eyes flick to me, appraising the bruises starting to form, not a bit bothered by them.
“Were you?” he asks.
I swallow, my throat burning where Rico’s hand had been. “I don’t appreciate being manhandled.”
Moseley grins. “I always knew there was something feisty underneath that fake smile of yours. Nobody’s that happy all the time.” He then turns to Rico. “She’s going to fight us on this, as expected.”
Expected?
“However, it seems you’re getting a bit ahead of yourself, Mr. Nostra. As of right now, Ms. St. John is still leased to me. As per our negotiations, you don’t take control of her until after the New Year.”
“Excuse me?” I shout. “You’re talking about me like I’m some kind of animal!”
Rico pushes me towards the room, the door clicking behind me, locking me in. It’s a prison I’ll never stop fearing. “Let’s clear something up, Mindy,” he says, folding his hands behind his back. “You are operating your business in my city. In my building. That makes you mine to control.”
“I pay rent,” I shoot back, my voice steadier than I feel. “I signed a contract to lease your building for a year.
“For now,” he corrects me, his voice calm and smooth. “Your lease expires after the new year.”
My stomach drops. “You can’t do that!”
“Oh, but I can. And when it does,” he continues, “you’ll be reassigned to a new leasing agent.”
My mouth goes dry, tongue sticking to the top like it’s a sponge searching for water. “What are you talking about?”
Moseley gestures toward Rico without even looking at him. “From my care to his.”
My blood turns to ice.
“No,” I say immediately. “Absolutely not.”
Rico smirks.
“You’ll move into a new arrangement,” Moseley goes on, unbothered by my refusal. “Your bakery will remain open, and any debt you have with me will be forgiven. Mr. Nostra will see to that. Don’t worry, you’ll be… looked after properly.”
“I’m not a toy you can give away,” I snap.
Moseley’s evil gaze settles on me, sharpening as his eyes dilate with delight.
“No, you’re a toy that’s proving to be more valuable than I ever could’ve imagined.
” He taps his lips, thoughtfully looking towards Rico.
“I’m sorry we have to stretch out our little arrangement, but I have something I need from her before you take over. ”
Rico nods once in full understanding.
My nails dig into my palms, but I’m numb to the pain. “I won’t do it.”
Moseley grins. “Oh, you will,” he says softly. “Because the alternative is far worse for you.”
Rico steps closer again, crowding my space, making me feel too uncomfortable. I flinch before I can stop myself, already fearing what comes next.
Moseley notices it, but ignores it, returning to the conversation like he’s in the middle of a business meeting, and not selling my body to the highest bidder.
“We’ll revisit this after the holidays,” he says calmly.
“Enjoy Thanksgiving and Christmas while you can. I’m especially looking forward to another one of those warm apple pies.
I hope to find one underneath my tree and next to my turkey this year. ”
My chest tightens.
“After the new year,” he finishes, “things will change.”
He and Rico share a look before Rico opens the door, the hinges squealing in protest.
“Take her back to her shop,” Moseley orders. “But try not to manhandle her like you did earlier; she’s already starting to bruise.”
Rico’s hand closes around my elbow, and it’s far from gentle. “Get up!” he orders, his mouth clenching with hate.
“Make sure you enjoy the holidays with what little time you have left, Ms. St. John; this may be the last one you ever enjoy.”
Rico angrily leads me out the door, leaning down only when Moseley can’t hear us anymore, his mouth too close to my ear. “You should’ve been nicer,” he whispers. “I don’t like it when women fight me.”
“Well, you should get used to it. Because I’m not the type of woman who goes down without a fight.”
“Then I hope you appreciate your knees while you still have them, because if you defy me again, I’ll break both of your kneecaps and feed you my dick while you cry out in pain.”
I don’t respond.
I won’t give him the satisfaction.
He throws me outside like some waif he’s discarding into the gutter, the cold air hitting my face like the slap he inflicted earlier.
“Don’t make this harder than it has to be,” he mutters, already turning away like I’m nothing more than an errand he’s completed.
“Submit like a good girl, and I’ll spare your life. ”
The two goons at the door chuckle as the door shuts behind me with a dull, painful thud.
For half a second, I just stand there.
Breathing.
Shaking.
Doing my best to convince my legs they still belong to me even though I can barely feel them.
I take a few steps before the world tilts, knees buckling beneath me as I stumble to the ground, knees hitting the pavement right outside the bakery’s window, the smell of sugar and cinnamon battling me like weapons instead of tantalizing my senses.
My breath rushes out of me in a sharp, humiliating gasp.
“Mindy!” Amber’s voice slices through the haze seconds after the door flies open behind me, the overhead bells jangling violently as she rushes out, dropping to my side.
“Oh my god, Mindy, what happened?” She helps me to my feet, her hands already assessing the bruises on my throat and face. “What did that bastard do to you?”
“I—I’m okay,” I lie, even though my throat burns and my hands won’t stop shaking.
Amber’s eyes flick up instinctively, focusing on the picnic table across the street. The one where Krampus has been sitting every day, watching and waiting for something to happen.
But for some odd reason, it’s empty.
My chest tightens painfully.
“He was right there,” I whisper, the words breaking without my permission. “He was there all morning.”
Amber follows my gaze, her jaw tightening. “Maybe he just stepped away?”
But I can hear it in her voice.
He’s gone…
And for reasons I don’t want to examine too closely, that realization hurts worse than Rico’s punishing hand curling around my throat.
Tears blur my vision as the weight of it all crashes down on me.
Krampus wasn’t here to protect me anymore, and after the new year, Moseley would be transferring me to Rico’s care. A man without morals or humanity.
I curl inward slightly, my arms wrapping around myself as if I can still protect something even though I feel so alone.
Amber pulls me against her without hesitation, holding me tightly as my meltdown begins. I’m a shaking mess of fear, tears stinging my cheeks like I’ve got hot sauce leaking from the corners and not salty tears of misery.
“You’re safe,” she murmurs fiercely into my hair. “You’re not going to face this alone, Mindy. I promise my husband’s club will protect you.”
I nod against her shoulder, even though nothing feels safe anymore. When Krampus posts up outside, I feel watched and protected.
But he wasn’t there to protect me today.
His absence created a void so big, it stalls in my throat and lingers. But even if Krampus never returns to protect me, at least I still have Amber and her husband’s club. The same club Krampus rides in.
It’s what gives me hope of surviving this mess, because whatever Moseley just set into motion…whatever Rico thinks he’s entitled to… they’ve underestimated one very important thing.
I’m not alone.