CHAPTER 18 - ARIANNA
CHAPTER
Arianna
M Y FINGERS CLAW AGAINST Red’s iron grip. “Get off me!” I yell. I feel bad my actions have brought this situation to the Batemans, but I’m done with being dragged around like a piece of meat.
Red pushes me against the wall. “Am I hurting you?” he snarls, his face twisted in a rage more feral than I’ve seen yet. “You don’t know the meaning of the word!”
My trepidation of being locked in a room with a man displaying the hallmark qualities of a caged beast about to strike, along with the guilt of what I’ve inadvertently brought to his door, diminishes. “You know nothing about me!”
The urge to scream how I know everything about hurt and pain and so would he if he’d been forced to marry the bastard I had, pushes to leave my mouth but I won’t let him know the level of depravity I was forced to endure.
He grabs my face with both hands; his thick fingers squeezing my jaw as he pulls me forwards against him like a rag doll.
“You could have been killed, you stupid bitch!” he screams, his face so close I can see each individual fleck in his wild eyes.
His raw power infuriates me, yet heats me in ways I don’t understand. “I’d have thought me getting shot dead would be high on your priority list!” I snap, unable to help it. “That would make you happy, no doubt? You should have let it happen because I’ve been dead inside for a long time. ”
Red’s eyes narrow, a look of madness behind his fiery glare that frightens me. “You selfish cow! You should be grateful you’re not dead, so I’ll remind you that you’re very much alive, shall I?”
His mouth crashes onto mine. It’s a closed kiss - a shock factor to prove his point, but there’s an intensity that only hints at what it would be like for him to kiss me properly, and my heat increases. Then, as fast as his mouth slammed onto mine, he pulls away, his eyes blazing with venom.
“How dare you!” I gasp.
“See?” Red sneers, his face a mask of contempt. “You’re very much alive, so never talk shit to me ever again!”
Dropping his grip, he strides to a cabinet on the other side of his office, leaving me rubbing my sore shoulders, shocked into silence.
My hand moves to my throbbing lips where his just were, and an ache tingles between my legs. In my state of confusion, I watch him unlock the cabinet, his whole frame tense.
The gunshot to his shoulder is still bleeding and needs tending, but the wound isn’t registering through his rage.
I’ll be damned if I’ll offer to deal with it - not after what he’s just said and done!
His hatred and blame for the night’s events lay clearly at my door, yet I’m still thinking about his mouth? What the actual fuck is wrong with me?
I’m also struggling to comprehend why I freaked out when I thought he might be dead. Being as he hates me so, why shield me from that gunfire?
Why kiss me - even to make a point?
Of course I’m alive! What I said was a term of phrase, and I don’t need the likes of him outlining anything for me.
I shudder, the sudden thought about whether the gunfire was meant for me taking precedence. If it was, then why not let me die? Isn’t that what the Batemans want?
Needing to bring a sliver of normality into this fucked up situation, if there can be one in this madness, I speak, surprised I can form words. “Why have you locked this office? Am I to be kept prisoner in here now?”
“The last time I noticed, you were about to make a run for it,” Red shouts from half inside the cupboard, acting like he hasn’t just crushed his lips onto mine, similar to an animal staking its claim.
But an animal is exactly what Redmond Bateman is, so why, despite despising him and everything he represents, do I find him such a magnetic turn-on ?
He’s just taken liberties, yet acts like his behavior is normal?
My eyes narrow, but the next remark I’m about to throw trails off.
There’s one thing I’ve somehow failed to include in my analysis of this crazy and extremely hot man: Red has just lost one of his men under orders to eject his brother from the building because of what was done to me .
The man they call Steve is dead - picked off in cold blood by a blatant hit, yet all I’m doing is griping?
I’m being snotty about stuff that, in the big scheme of things, pales into insignificance.
I begin to shake, the severity of the situation hitting home. What was it someone said the gunman shouted? “You have one of my family, and now we take one of yours?” I stagger back against the wall.
That “family” they referred to? Was it me or Roberto?
My family wouldn’t be behind something so callous, would they?
No, my father is a fair man, and even worried sick about my whereabouts, he wouldn’t orchestrate this. I know he wouldn’t.
Red steps from the cabinet, eyeing me coolly. He has several automatic weapons in his hands, and my fear surges. “What are those for?” My voice is squeaky. I wish it wasn’t, but I’m too freaked out to care.
“What the fuck do you think they’re for?” Red shoves the weapons into a large holdall, along with boxes of ammunition. “They’re not getting away with this.”
He paces the room, his face twisting in a rage difficult to decipher. I inch towards him, unsure whether his fury is for me and what I’ve brought to his table, what just happened or for whoever is responsible for slaying his man.
All indignation about being dragged around like a doll, forcibly kissed and then roared at, vanishes as the knowledge of what he’s planning hits me square between the eyes.
Throwing caution to the wind, I grab Red’s arm.
“Please don’t retaliate! Please !” I beg.
“You’ll make things worse if you go for the Bristonis. ”
Red eyes are icy as he shakes me off like I’m a gnat. “Make things worse?” he laughs coldly. “A loyal man is dead! And what makes you think I’m just going after the Bristonis? I’m going for both fucking families, and that means yours too. One of them is behind this, so I’ll take both.”
I suck in air with such force it almost chokes me. “No! Not my Papà! He wouldn’t do this! He wouldn’t!” I resent pleading with this man, but I have no choice.
Red regards me with a strange kind of pity. “You’re sure about that? ”
As he moves to the door, I follow, clinging to him in the hope of preventing him from leaving.
I fail.
It’s futile, as is my sickening pleading.
“Remain here until I return.” Red meets my eyes, his own devoid of emotion.
“It’s for your own protection rather than stopping you from running.
” He pauses, his look sending shivers of apprehension up my spine.
“I wish I’d let you go in the first place, but hindsight is a wonderful thing, is it not? ”
As the door slams behind him and the key turns, I can do nothing but sink into a chair.
What did he mean by “my protection”? Protection from the Bristonis, my own family, Red’s men and brothers or himself?
I sink into the only chair in the room and rest my head in my hands, the heat of Red’s random and meaningless kiss pushed to the back of my crowded brain.
All I can do is wait and see if my family is spared because if they aren’t, I’m not sure if I can live with the realization that it’s because of what I’ve done. This is my fault.