Chapter 17
ALEX
The darkness consumed me, swallowing me whole as I sank to the floor and pulled my knees into my chest. I blinked a few times to clear my vision, pinching the skin on my forearm.
“Wake up, Alex. Not real,” I whispered, but it was no use.
Nothing .
Same as the last time.
This was my hell.
Tears fell from my eyes, coating my cheeks as I screamed for someone to let me out and come to my aid. I pounded my fists against the wooden door until my knuckles cracked open and my hands were numb.
I got on my hands and knees and felt around the cramped space. My chest heaved as I struggled for air, fighting the wave of anxiety that ripped through my body like a hurricane.
I hated the dark.
Hated small spaces.
Desperate to escape, I clawed at the molding. Anything that could provide me a way out. But no matter how hard I tried, I could never escape the closet.
This was my punishment for being born.
For taking everything from her.
My mother .
She blamed me for everything that didn’t go her way. The woman should have loved me. And yet, she had never shown me an ounce of affection. She saw everything I had stolen from her when she looked at me.
Youth.
Beauty.
Money.
Fame.
Her father’s love.
My mother had locked me in a tiny closet for most of my life. I didn’t have to do anything to deserve her punishment. Just existing was enough for her.
Someone shook my shoulder, and strong arms wrapped around me like a warm blanket. “Alex, wake up.”
My eyes snapped open. A soft breeze from the bay flew into my bedroom through the French doors. I listened to the water crash against the beach. My heart slowed, and eventually, my hands stopped trembling.
“I got you.” Marcello leaned against the headboard, his muscular biceps holding me in a vise. “You’re safe, Alex.”
“Marcello.” I slid my palm over his heart, feeling his heartbeat beneath my fingers until my body relaxed. “My nightmares went away… until you brought me back here.”
He sighed, pushing my hair off my sweaty forehead. “I’m sorry. But this is what’s best for you. We’re doing this for you.”
“What are you talking about?”
Either I was delirious or still dreaming because nothing Marcello said made sense. When did any of the Salvatores care about what was best for me? And Marcello, of all people, was comforting me. Like, he gave a damn. This was weird but also nice.
He sat up, bringing me with him. “Time to get up, princess.”
“I need coffee and a shower.”
Marcello tipped his head at the silver tray on the writing desk. A smile tugged at my mouth as our eyes met. I slid my legs off the bed, stretching my arms above my head, his dress shirt riding up my stomach as I yawned. His eyes darted up and down the length of my body, and he licked his lips.
Ignoring his heated gaze, I poured myself a cup of coffee.
“We leave in one hour.”
I added cream and sugar and spun around, sipping from my cup. “Where are we going?”
“I’m taking you shopping. Get whatever you need while we’re out.”
“Am I a prisoner or a guest in this house?”
“A guest.”
“Can I drive myself to get coffee and buy art supplies?”
He shook his head. “Your doctor hasn’t cleared you to drive.”
Damn .
I hoped to regain my driving privileges now that I was in Devil’s Creek.
“I need to work. You can’t force me to live here and do nothing all day.”
“You can use my mother’s studio if you behave yourself.”
My frown turned into a grin. “Really?”
He dropped into the armchair by the window. “If you stop asking so many questions and don’t give me shit.”
“I’m hungry.” Holding my coffee in one hand, I rubbed my belly. “Think we can stop somewhere to eat?”
Marcello removed his cell phone from his pocket and clicked the buttons. “Answer the door when they knock.”
“I didn’t tell you what I want to eat.”
He leaned forward, elbows on his thighs, and continued typing on his phone. “You eat wheat toast with butter and raspberry jam every morning. And you take your coffee with extra cream and three sugars. I know everything about you.”
The Salvatores knew way too much about me. It was fucking creepy as hell. I wondered what they did with the secrets of their enemies. Did they hold them over their head as they did to my grandfather, or did they expose them?
I didn’t care about any of my secrets. But Pops… and Aiden. Did my brother owe them a debt he could never repay? If he were dead, the police would have uncovered his body by now.
He was alive.
I could feel it.
A few minutes later, someone knocked on the door. A man handed me a tray and walked away without a word. I sat at the writing desk and buttered a slice of wheat toast, topping it with a spoonful of jam.
Marcello locked onto me with his usual stern expression as I bit into the first slice of toast.
“You should smile. It wouldn’t kill you.”
“It might.”
Leaning back in his chair, he acted as if he hadn’t climbed into bed with me to pull me from my nightmare, like this was a normal thing we did.
As he typed a new text message, I studied his profile, noting the strength in his jaw and the hardness of his attractive features.
Like his brother, he had the perfect bone structure and flawless skin.
I wanted to paint him so badly that my fingers itched for the chance.
The Salvatores were cold and cruel, but they were also beautiful.
“Did your mom ever paint you?”
He greeted me with more silence.
I was not giving up without a fight. Ideas for paintings raced through my mind, and I needed his cooperation to bring the concept to life. He seemed okay with sitting still for hours at a time. Maybe with a little convincing, he would let me sketch him.
I was known for the Many Faces of the Devil series. Lonely Boy could be the first in the Lonely Hearts collection. Yeah, that would work.
I finished my second slice of toast and strolled over to my handsome captor. “How about we make a deal?”
He glanced up from his phone. “For deals to work, you must have something to offer.”
Wiggling my eyebrows, I tugged at the seam of his dress shirt that rode up my thighs. “There must be something you want from me.”
“I could bind your hands and mouth and leave you to rot in this room until Luca comes home.” He grinned. “How does that sound, princess?”
I shook my head, disappointed with the sudden change of events. What happened to the man who held me in his arms and whispered I was safe? It didn’t take long for him to disappear.
Shoving my hand through his thick hair, I pulled on the ends, forcing him to look up at me. “You’re a real jerk, Marcello Salvatore.”
A really sexy one .
He rolled his eyes, annoyed by my advances. “If you want to shower, get moving. I don’t have all day.”