The Dominator : a dark mafia romance

Chapter 5

He was still asleep when I woke up. His face was badly scored with long nail marks and his eye looked bruised. It was early, 5:20 am. I was tangled up with him, legs, arms, and for some reason, we were both on the opposite end of the bed, heads down at the foot and I was on the side he usually slept on. I rolled away, went to the bathroom, put his bathrobe on and went downstairs.

Sarah wasn’t up yet. I looked out the stained glass window panes that flanked the front door on both sides and saw a guy out there, sitting by the gate with a tall Starbucks cup in his hand, doing something on his phone. I also saw another guy out back when I looked out the kitchen window.

I filled the single cup brewer with water, made a coffee the way I liked it, and then explored some of the rooms whose doors were open on the main floor. An office with a big cherry wood desk, bookshelves, billiards table, and a good-sized conference table with a dozen chairs. A dining room with a table for twelve, humungous family room with big couches, a fireplace, the biggest TV I’d ever seen, also a laundry room with 2 stacked sets of metallic blue laundry machines. There was also a big, stocked pantry, two bathrooms, and a long hallway with a few closed doors. I had a feeling one was Sarah’s room, so I didn’t open any of them. At the end of that hallway I spotted the basement stairs. I decided to go down and see if I could find my belongings so I wouldn’t have to keep wearing Sarah’s clothes.

When my eyes opened, I could smell her. I smelled her on the pillow beside me, but she wasn’t here. After I’d gotten in bed on the wrong side and she curled into me, I further experimented. I woke up sometime in the night and got up to use the john, so when I got back in I climbed in at the bottom. She rolled down and curled into me down there, too. I’d wrapped my arms around her and held her tight to me. She burrowed in, letting out a little moan that gave me goosebumps and got me hard. I didn’t act on it, just held her.

Now I was awake, it was bright, and she wasn’t here. I got out of bed, pulled on a pair of track pants, went to the bathroom, then headed down to the kitchen. It was 7:45 and Sarah was frying something on the stove, something that didn’t smell like breakfast.

“What’s going on?” I asked.

“I’m making some freezer meals,” she said without looking up. Then she did look up and looked at me with shock.

“What?”

“Your face! It looks worse than last night.”

I felt the tenderness on my eye and lip and knew Tia’d given me a doozy of a shiner. I grabbed a silver pan off the counter, turned it over and caught my reflection on the back and sure enough, it looked worse. In addition to a black eye and a slightly fat lip I had nail marks streaked down my cheek, too. Great. We were expected at Pop’s for dinner today. Sarah’s face changed and I didn’t need to be a mind-reader to know she was thinking I deserved it.

“Where is she?” I asked, leaning out to see by the pool.

Sarah shook her head blankly. “She’s not up yet.”

“She’s what?” The look on my face made her blanch.

I practically flew to the front door and hollered for Marco and Nino and we soon figured out they hadn’t seen her. My blood was about to boil. “Where the fuck is she?”

In the basement, I found a huge man-cave room with another pool table, ping pong table, two old school arcade games, foosball, a pinball game, plus a home theater room with a sectional and those cool recliners with the cup holders and speakers in them. There was also a big poker table with the green felt, and a long fully-stocked bar, as well as a home gym with every piece of workout equipment I’d ever heard of plus a sauna and bathroom. There was also a big storage room lined with shelves. The storage room was empty except for my few boxes and garbage bags of clothes right inside the doorway. I opened the boxes and started going down memory lane.

Report cards, post cards, boxes of clothes, books, CDs. I slipped through a photo album that belonged to my mom. I felt an overwhelming surge of emotion for her.

I didn’t know who some of the people in the photos were. In the back there were a few loose photos that I’d seen before. I leafed through them and stopped at a Polaroid photo of my mother when she was younger, sitting with a young guy, both dressed up. They were holding hands. His face looked familiar.

I turned it over and saw Carlita + Tom Ferrano in blue ink. There was a heart drawn in red pen under the ink as well as dotting the i in Mom’s name.

Tommy’s father. What on Earth? Is that why he seemed familiar? Because I’ve seen this picture and his name on it over the years? It felt like something else was familiar, beyond the picture about him. I couldn’t put my finger on it.

I heard someone coming down the stairs. A man, maybe in his early to mid-30’s, rushed into the room, the man from the driveway this morning. He was a giant, had to be almost 7 feet tall, had a reddish goatee, a shaved head, had tattooed hands, and pretty much looked like a badass biker dressed in a suit. His facial expression was filled with relief.

He leaned on the door frame, as if catching his breath, pulled out his phone and dialed, then said, “She’s in the basement! Storage room. Yeah.”

I was sitting on the floor cross-legged in Tommy’s shirt, Tommy’s robe, with papers and piles of folded clothing around me. After what felt like a too-long awkward moment with the giant biker guy Tommy was behind him with eyes that were crazy-scary. Tommy was dressed in just a pair of track pants that sat low on his hips. He wore nothing else, but his crucifix necklace.

“Okay,” Tommy said, and the guy left.

I felt the overwhelming urge to turtle, to totally cower and that’s not me. He’s got me turned into a nervous wreck.

I was sure I was staring at him like a timid rabbit. I felt my chin start quivering. The anger seemed to drain from Tommy’s beat-up looking face (Fuck, I did that. Me!) and then he fell to his knees in front of me and let out a deep breath, looking me right in the eyes with tenderness.

Tenderness? Was I reading that right? I felt my face crinkle, confused. He grabbed me and pulled me against him. His heart hammered against me. I stiffened.

“I thought you were gone,” he said softly into my ear and squeezed tighter.

I didn’t know how to respond.

“I’m sorry about yesterday, baby,” he said into my ear so low it was barely audible.

Then he leaned back and his hand curled around the back of my neck. He looked at my face and his eyes travelled from my eyes to my mouth and then my eyes again. Then his mouth was on mine and he was kissing me like he’d kissed me at the beach.

I didn’t want to respond. He didn’t deserve having me respond after all he’d done so far. But for some reason, I did.

His tongue darted into my mouth and his other hand was on my rear. He was hard; I felt it. He was hard whenever he was against me. He gently took me down so my back was on the floor and his hand travelled underneath the bathrobe, underneath the shirt of his I was wearing He was rubbing a nipple with one hand while the other hand travelled up my body from my hip to my shoulder, resting to cup my head.

I looked up at him and chewed my lower lip. He didn’t have anger on his face at all. He was looking at me with some other expression; I didn’t know what it was.

And then he was grinding into me and kissing me, running his hands through my hair. I wanted to be afraid, but I was so relieved that he wasn’t freaking out that I just let him. It made no sense in the world, but I was letting him. His cross necklace was dangling over me, touching my throat.

Right now, he wasn’t the criminal, he was the guy on the date, and I kissed him back. His fingers were inside of me and rubbing me and before my actions registered in my brain I rubbed both of my palms up and down his arms to his shoulders and then one of my hands reached down into his track pants and I wrapped my hand around his cock and squeezed.

He moaned into my mouth and said, “Let’s take this upstairs.” I let go of him and he helped me to my feet and walked, holding my hand, out of the storage room, up the stairs, through the hall, past the kitchen, and back up the stairs to the master bedroom. The whole way I was staring at the muscular detail of his naked back, feeling so turned on. So inexplicably turned on.

Once the bedroom door was shut, he lifted me up gently under my arms and I wrapped my legs around his waist. He kissed my throat while walking the few paces to the bed and then put me down on it and climbed on top of me, kissing my mouth so passionately I was melting. Before I knew it I was out of his robe, out of his shirt and my panties, and he was deep inside me, making love to me. Yes, making love to me.

His lips trailed up and down my neck and shoulders, his hands up and down my body, and he was pumping into me slowly, looking at me like he was savoring it, repeatedly gazing with a smoldering look into my eyes. It was beautiful. It was probably what making love was supposed to be like. I’d fucked before but this was my first time being made love to.

But when the making love thought occurred to me, suddenly I felt like something inside of me was dying. Something inside me was crumbling because he was fucking with my head and because I knew this wasn’t the only side of him.

This was just one half of who he was. I think he knew I was dying inside, too, because I started to tremble and as a single tear rolled down my cheek, his thumb stroked my lower lip, then he kissed the tear away and hugged me tight, being even slower, even gentler, and he whispered, “Tia, baby, please. Please.”

I didn’t know what he was pleading with me for exactly, but it felt like he wanted me to just forget everything else except for what was happening right now. Could I? Could I let this happen, let this beautiful, fucked up man have me without any tears? I guess I couldn’t.

I had a huge orgasm and crying episode at the same time, so I held him tight, muffling my moans with his shoulder. He finished, too, moaning my name, and then he rolled to his side, sank his head into the pillow, blowing out a long breath, then he pulled my back against his front, spooning me.

I glanced back at his face and he looked like he’d been in a bar fight. His eye was rimmed with a deep purple bruise and there were four angry red and scabbed lines down one cheek and another scratch across his nose and part way across the other cheek. His bottom lip was a bit puffy and had a tiny cut that extended about half an inch below his lip. He was looking on the outside like I was feeling on the inside. I put my head back on the pillow. He nuzzled in and kissed me between the shoulder blades, wrapping his arms tighter around me.

I was surprised that all that had ended the way it did. I thought, if anything, him thinking I’d run away – which I’d never thought would be the assumption when I headed to the basement or I wouldn’t have done it – would’ve meant his anger again.

Until I could get out of here, I needed to think before acting; I needed to make that part of my routine now because life wasn’t the same as it was before. I needed to think about what he’d think about things I’d do before I did them. He could’ve been angry right now because he couldn’t find me. But that’s not what I was getting from him. He was unpredictable and to me, that meant he was even more dangerous than I’d even realized because I didn’t know what to expect next from him.

How, till I got out of here, did I stay on his good side? This side? How bad was he screwing with my head that I’d just allowed him to have sex with me, that I’d just participated?

After a long time, he said, “Hi.” His voice was breathy… maybe emotional?

“Hi.” I think my voice probably sounded empty or unsure. I didn’t know.

There was a long pause. Then he cleared his throat. “We have dinner at my pop’s today. I’d like you to dress like you’re going to church, okay?” He was tracing my ear with his finger and kissing the back of my head.

“Kay,” I said.

“You’ve got clothes like that or should I have something sent over?”

“I went to church nearly every Sunday for the past nine years. I’m good.”

“Okay. My sisters will make you their friend. Just because they’re my sisters doesn’t mean the rules don’t apply. Okay?”

“Kay.”

“I mean it.” There was an edge to his voice.

“I know you do.” My heart sank and my body stiffened. Kay, bye bye Ice Cream Parlor Hottie. So much for that.

He snuggled me closer, maybe in response to my tensing up. “I’m very pleased that you didn’t run away from me. Or that someone hadn’t taken you.” He sighed and played with my hair.

“I woke up early and I was just tired of wearing Sarah’s clothes and you said my clothes were down there. You said I could go down and–”

“I know. You’re welcome to wear your own clothes anytime but in bed. In bed you need to be naked or in something of mine. I want you to smell like me.” He nuzzled into my throat and then twisted me so that my face was buried in his chest. “But you need to know that running away, had you done it, would be bad, Tia. Real bad.”

Taken me? Who’d take me? The police? Was he worried Rose and Cal were trying to rescue me? And how would I get away, anyway? This place was locked down like a prison.

“I didn’t,” I reminded him.

“I know.” He cuddled me closer. “I’m glad.”

I started to cry, like ugly cry right into his chest. I couldn’t hold the tears back. He tilted my chin up toward his face.

“Talk to me.” His expression was soft.

I grimaced. “One minute you’re being sweet and the next minute you’re threatening me. One minute you’re rough, the next minute you’re not. Is messing with my head a sport for you?” I couldn’t even believe I was having this conversation with him. I couldn’t believe how weak I was, letting him fuck me and then crying like a baby again. Yet again.

He sighed, was silent for a minute, then whispered, “I need control.”

He was searching my face for something with roving eyes. “I need you to keep being exactly who you have been so far, okay? You’ve been perfect.”

I didn’t know what that meant. Most times he was one guy and sometimes he was another. Gangster Tommy and what? Ice cream Parlor Tommy? How could he say I was being perfect? I was a mess. Last night I’d hit him with a lamp and messed up his face. How was that perfect? And today I had to have dinner with his family and pretend that I was happy to be engaged to him. How would I pull that off?

He twisted in the direction of his nightstand and reached for the heart-shaped box. He looked at me with a stone-cold serious face. “I want you to wear this. My family doesn’t need to feel any awkwardness between us. I don’t want them worrying the way you’ve got Sarah worrying.”

I frowned.

He continued, “So you’ll wear this and it’ll be reality to them. Okay? Like our dinner date the other night. Alone with me, always be real, always be you. But when it’s not just us, no one can think things aren’t perfect, that you’re not ecstatically happy to be mine.”

I was speechless. He was teetering between the two personalities, it seemed. Hadn’t I just been responsive while we were alone? That hadn’t been enough to keep him sweet, though. I didn’t understand. And now my reaction would probably tip him one way or the other. I sat up, pulling up the blankets to cover my nakedness and chewed the inside of my cheek. Me being real was fucked up. I didn’t know what to be right now.

He opened the box. Inside was a gorgeous diamond ring. It was cushion-cut with a big stone and then surrounding round diamonds. More round diamonds took up two thirds of the band. I’d never seen something so sparkly, so beautiful. I wanted nothing to do with it. I wanted nothing to do with a proposal that I’d had no choice but to accept from a man who threatened me every time he looked at me, either with this mouth or with his eyes.

But, what could I do? If I showed him an emotion other than what he wanted to see, would he hurt me again? I opened my mouth to speak, but nothing came out.

“Shh, don’t say anything. Just wear it. When my sisters ask questions about setting a date or anything like that, say we haven’t discussed it yet.”

She nodded, but I could see she was trying but failing to guard how she was feeling – freaked. I put the ring on her finger and then I leaned over and touched my lips to hers. She stayed still. I leaned up and kissed her forehead.

“I’ve got stuff to do but I’ll be back here to pick you up at 4:30 and then we’ll head over to Pop’s. Best behavior there, yeah?”

She nodded, but her eyes were filled with confusion. I couldn’t exactly blame her. I was confused, too. I knew I was acting like a psychopath. I left to get a shower and get dressed.

In the shower, I tried to get my head straight. This girl, she was doing something to me. I didn’t feel like me. Yeah, I felt the desire to dominate her, but I also had the strange desire to be the ice cream shop guy she’d told me she’d fantasized about. Could I be that guy? Did I want to be? I hated the sadness on her face, hated the way she seemed to be beating herself up for enjoying it when I fucked her. So far, she was everything I wanted. But I was me.

One minute I found myself being sweet to her but inevitably I’d become me again. The way she’d responded to me downstairs? That was fucking amazing. I loved that she reached for me, that she kissed me back, and it felt real. I wanted her to keep feeling bold enough to reach into my pants for my cock because she was showing me she wanted me. But I wanted her afraid, too, and eventually I wanted her to want to please me, to do whatever I wanted, even if was out of her comfort zone, because she wanted to please me that badly. I wanted her to want me so badly that she ached for me, ached to submit for me.

A lot of girls want to be submissive, give in to belonging to a lover. I’m not saying every woman wants it but there are a lot of women who enjoy it, who crave it and embrace it. I had no problems finding women who did, but I needed the fear first and most couldn’t pull off convincing me of it unless I went over the edge with them and made them truly afraid. And none of them made me want them like she did. I didn’t want a submissive with safe words putting limits on what she’d give me. I wanted a willing slave, someone willing to give me whatever I needed.

If I let her go tomorrow and she went on to live a normal life I knew I’d already ruined her for vanilla. She’d always think about sex with me. No one would measure up because after me she’d think she had to pick some accountant in a sweater vest, the polar opposite of me. As she laid there staring at the ceiling waiting for sweater vest to finally go limp inside her, she’d be thinking about getting her hair pulled, her ass smacked, and having my hand caress her throat, while feeling my breath against her ear as I whispered in her ear how I owned her and what I wanted to do to her.

How did I walk the line of taking what I wanted to ensure I kept wanting her without breaking her? In the beginning I’d been thrilled by the notion of breaking her spirit and bending her to my will, but now… I still wanted her to be mine, but didn’t want to extinguish that fire in her. Because unlike the women I had to take over the edge to make them feel real fear temporarily, I wanted Tia. The other women were a one off. I couldn’t break her or she wouldn’t be Tia anymore and I’d be married to this empty shell of a person who did what I wanted but in a way I wouldn’t crave it anymore.

She was getting to me in a way I hadn’t expected and I wanted something else from her, too, but I didn’t know what name to give what I wanted. I wanted her to see the real me, to want me, even if I wasn’t perfect, even if I could be a cold-hearted prick sometimes. Did I want her to love me? Love was something I never had before. I got praise and respect through accomplishments. I had to earn everything I got.

Right now, before work, I needed another session with the heavy bag. When I got out of the shower I got dressed to head out, but first I took off my silver chain. It was a curious thing, the way my mindset shifted when I wore it. It belonged to my mother and when I had to make tough decisions, tap into my inner beast and handle the dirty shit in my life and my line of work I couldn’t do those things as well if I was wearing it.

On the other side of the coin, if I was filled with rage that I didn’t want to feel and I put it on it usually helped me find my center, like this morning when Nino said she was in the basement I put it on before I went down.

I knew it was just an object, that it was all in my head, but it somehow helped to ground me. Right now, I had a tough job to take care of before dinner at Pop’s so I left the chain on the counter in the bathroom.

I had a light breakfast alone and then spent the rest of the morning sorting through the rest of my things, watching the beautiful ring sparkle every time my hand moved. I wasn’t generally a materialistic girl at all but this ring! It was just so sparkly. I kept staring at it. My French manicure was still intact, astonishingly, despite the fact that I’d brawled with him, and I couldn’t get over how my hand looked just so grown up, just so not my hand.

Sarah had offered to help me sort things out, but I wanted to do it alone. I knew it was her day off, but more than that, I didn’t want interference. These were my personal things. There had been nothing I wanted to throw out; I’d already done my weeding and sorting thinking I was taking that apartment at the Carusos’. But looking through my things I felt like I was looking at them again with different eyes than I had a week ago when I’d packed everything.

I brought my clothes upstairs in several armloads and I found that there were a few empty drawers in the bureau in the closet, plus some shelving and rod space were cleared out for me, by the looks of things.

I left my box of mementoes in the basement and only brought up my summer clothes. I certainly wasn’t planning to stay here and make it home, so all my personal stuff that I normally liked around me, photos, stuffed animals, frilly throw cushions, they could all stay boxed. All I needed were my basics upstairs. The only other thing beyond clothing I took was my jewelry box. It had been my mother’s and I wanted it, no needed it, close.

I tucked the picture of my Mom and Tommy’s father behind another picture in the album to hide it. I didn’t know whether Tommy knew there was a connection between my mom and his dad or not but I felt like I needed to hide this information for the moment without any explanation. Of course I knew Mr. Ferrano seemed to want me to know he knew who she was after his comment about me looking like her.

After I got everything away, I got ready, but I wasn’t looking forward to this dinner at all. I didn’t know if I’d act the wrong way or say the wrong thing. I didn’t know how to pull off the ruse of acting like I was a blushing bride-to-be.

Sarah was to be out the rest of the day, so I was alone in the house with a security guard that I’d seen before and another outside that I hadn’t seen before.

From what I could tell they worked in twelve-hour shifts on the property. At one point I looked out the window and the one guy had been in the driveway talking to three other guys, one of which had been the Lou Ferrigno-looking burly guy from that first day. I looked back out the window later and it was another guy, one I didn’t recognize.

I was ready at 4:20 and impatiently paced around the front door area until 4:48 when I heard the house phone ring. There weren’t any security guys nearby, so I picked it up, preparing to just take a message.

“Hello?”

“Oh… Tia?” It was a female.

“Yes…” Who would be calling me here?

“Hi! This is Tessa, Tommy’s sister. Tommy’s running late so I’m gonna swing by and get you. I’m pulling up to the gate in like two seconds. Can you meet me outside?”

“I, uh, okay.”

“Cool. See you in two.”

Weird. And uncomfortable. I’d have to be alone with this girl and would I get a total inquisition? I stepped outside and the guard looked up at me and smiled. This was the first of the Ferrano security guys, besides Earl, to smile at me. Then the gate opened and a red SUV pulled in. The guard talked to her. They conversed for a few minutes so I eventually walked down the steps toward them. A pretty blonde unlocked the door and I got into the passenger seat.

There were two boys strapped in the back in car seats, one a toddler, the other a baby. The bigger of the two was playing on a little toddler game system and the smaller was asleep. She was very attractive, a petite blonde with a few chunky dark highlights. Lots of jewelry. Expensive-looking clothes and purse. I couldn’t believe the baby was sleeping through the racket that was the dance music on her car sound system.

“Hey!” She shook my hand and started talking a mile a minute as she pulled out, talking over the loud music.

“I’m glad to meet you. Tommy said you guys were running late and that he hadn’t picked you up yet, so I decided to pick you up on the way and save him the trouble. This way, too, he can’t cancel because we’ve got you already. Back there are Lucas and Antonio.”

“Uh, nice to meet you. Thanks.” I waved at the older of the two boys in the backseat.

“Everyone can’t wait to meet the girl that has finally stolen my brother’s heart. You’re nineteen? You look older than that! How did you meet? Oh my God!” She grabbed my hand again and started checking out my ring, “It’s beautiful! My brother has always had great taste.”

I felt the car swerve and then someone honked at us. She laughed and grabbed the steering wheel. “Sorry. Saw something shiny! Hahaha”

She was funny; I liked her instantly.

“I just gotta stop at the bakery to grab dessert. My father’s wife Lisa is useless in the kitchen and Sundays his housekeeper is off, so Luc is bringing dinner and I’m bringing dessert. We do dinner almost every Sunday and we rotate who does what. You cook?” She turned down the radio a bit.

I nodded. “I do. I –”

Her phone cut me off. It was a really loud dubstep ring and it startled me.

She answered it. “Tommy, what? Driving!” She listened for a second, frowned, and then said, “Yeah. What’s the prob?” She glanced over at me. Then she really scrunched up her face. “Yeah, I’ll be there in like five. Whatever. Here.” She passed me the phone and turned her music down some more. I almost fumbled, getting the phone to my ear.

“Hello?”

“Tia, what the fuck!” he growled.

My scalp prickled, “What’s wrong?”

“Where’s your fucking phone?”

“In my purse.”

“I’ve been calling you!”

“I must not have heard it. The music was loud.”

Tessa pulled into a parking space in a strip plaza, jumped out, and dashed into a bakery.

“My sister picking you up was not authorized, Tia. The guy on duty was a fucking bonehead for letting her drive out of there with you. It’s not safe.”

My heart was pumping directly in my ears, it seemed. Time stood still for a beat.

Oh my God. OH MY GOD! I have a chance to get away. There was no one else in the parking lot. There were no bodyguards with us! I looked around me. I was in a suburban strip mall and there were no goons with guns watching me.

“Hello?” he called out impatiently.

“I’m here.” I slowly looped my purse strap over my shoulder, stepped out of the SUV and closed the door. I looked around, surveying the area. Should I run? This might be the perfect opportunity. This might be the only opportunity.

Someone had let me off the property with the wrong person, a sister who clearly didn’t know I was Tommy’s prisoner. I looked in the van and saw the sleeping baby and the game-playing tot. I chewed my cheek.

“Where’s Tess? It’s quiet,” he asked.

“She’s uh--- driving.”

“I’ll be there as soon as possible. Remember my rules. Yeah? Remind her not to stop anywhere. Go directly to my father’s house. It’s not safe for you to be out there unguarded.”

“Kay.” I frowned.

“You’re still wearing the ring?”

I looked down at it. “Uh huh.”

I could see his sister at the cash register, talking animatedly with the cashier.

“Okay, baby. I’ll see you soon. Be good. Text me when you’re inside Pop’s house so I know you’re safe.”

“Kay. Goodbye, Tommy.” I hung up.

I stood still, feeling like my pounding heart was inside of my ears. I pulled the ring off my finger.

Goodbye Tommy.

Tessa came out of the store holding three white bakery boxes. She passed them to me, so I opened the door and put them on my seat with the ring.

“Oh, just a sec. Let me get the trunk open. You can’t hold those on your lap.”

I passed her the phone. “Listen, it was nice to meet you, but I’ve actually gotta go. I wanted to leave the second you were in there, but I wouldn’t have left your babies alone.”

She looked at me weirdly. I started to walk away.

“Wait a second,” she called after me. “What’s going on? Did you and my brother have a fight?”

“You could say that,” I called back. “Sorry. He’s a psychopath, Tessa, he really is. I can’t do this, can’t be his prisoner. I am outta here.” I started walking faster. She was standing there looking confused.

After a few paces I glanced back and saw her dialing on her phone. That’s when I knew I couldn’t walk away. I had to fucking run.

I couldn’t believe the fucking screw-up. First, my meeting runs late because I have to watch a couple guys rough up someone who owes us money, like I have time for this piddly shit, but then I find out that my sister fucking took Tia. The gate guard that relieved Nino had some fucking stomach bug and was in the pool house taking a shit, so Marco hadn’t left yet despite being on since last night. Tino was at the front gate but then there was an emergency with a shipment that was coming and a few guys dropped by and swapped out Nino’s brother Tino with a newbie who just had to man the fucking gate waiting for the other guy to come back. I called Earl and told him to get over there and straighten this shit out.

My sister heard I’ve told Pop I’m running late and I’m not sure if we can make it and she conspires with my other sister to make sure they get their claws into Tia. So, Tess swings by my house and it’s miraculously during the period the inexperienced guy is there and the experienced guy is in the john and my five foot two 100 pound sister proceeds to bully the guy into letting her take Tia to my Pop’s.

He works for us but isn’t in the inner circle so doesn’t know the rules for handling Tia. All he knows is he’s watching the gate for a minute and my sister wants to give my fiancée a ride. The guy’s phone is dead so he tells her he’s gotta confirm it’s okay, but she starts getting pissy about running late and name dropping that she’s Tom Ferrano Senior’s daughter and does he really think she shouldn’t take her own future sister-in-law to me? She’s like a midget Doberman or something, both of my sisters are.

He lets her take Tia. The other guy comes back out and finds out. After I get off a phone call, I see I missed a text from Luc telling me not to worry about Tia; that Tessa has gone to get her. I piece everything together as my guy at the house is phoning. Tia’s not answering her phone and then I finally get ahold of my sister.

Two minutes after I get off the phone with her my sister is calling me back and telling me that Tia took off on her, ran like her hair was on fire, and left her engagement ring in the fucking car. I heard her voice in my head, how she ended that call with me saying, “Goodbye, Tommy.”

Fuck! Not only has she taken off without the ring that has the damn GPS in it but the anonymous note we got is nagging at me. Heads are gonna damn well roll!

I got to a mall two blocks from that strip plaza and finally found one of the few remaining pay phones in the world. I was debating between calling Susie and calling Rose. I was freaking out. I turned the stupid iPhone off and dropped it in a garbage bin a block from the mall.

I decided to call my Aunt Carol to ask where my father was. I called directory assistance and they connected me, but after the operator laughed at my asking for Carol O’Connor. “Archie Bunker?” She giggled, like I’d been prank calling.

“No, Carol a female, not the actor.”

It rang twice, then there was a scratchy sounding “Hello?”

“Aunt Carol, it’s me, Tia. Athena.” I felt shaky but tried to keep my voice steady.

Dead air.

“Aunt Carol, I’m really sorry to bother you. I know you don’t talk to him much, but it’s imperative that I find my father. Like… life or death kind of thing. Do you have any idea where I might reach him?”

She sighed. “I have nothing to do with your father, Athena. He’s a loser. I’m sorry to say that, but he is.”

“Please; do you have any idea how I can reach him? It’s really important.”

She sighed, “He works at the car parts place on Dufferin Street. Last I heard, anyway. I don’t know if he’s working today. It’s Sunday. I don’t have a home number. His girlfriend is Sadie Lewicki. She’s probably listed.”

“Thank you.”

“Athena?”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t call me again.”

Click.

What a royal bitch.

I called directory assistance again. I didn’t have that much change left in my purse but when I fished around the bottom, looking for more, I found a folded up ten that I could break, if needed.

I got through to my dad’s work and typed his last name into the keypad via the auto attendant. I got transferred to him and he answered.

“Dad!”

“Tia? Is that you, sweet pea?”

“Dad, I took off. You need to hide. I’m sorry, I don’t know why you did this to me and it doesn’t even matter now but you need to hide because they could hurt you and I had no choice but to run so I have and I wanted to warn you about it.” Tears were streaming down my face.

“Shit, Tia. Breathe, sweet pea. Where are you?’

“It doesn’t matter. I’m gonna get out of Dodge and you need to as well.”

“Meet me. We need to talk.”

“No Dad. I-I don’t trust you. You have no idea what I’ve been through the last few days. I can’t trust you after you did this to me.”

“I have things to tell you. We need to talk.” He sounded like he was choking up.

“You’re at work. You’re not trying to find a way to pay off the debt because it’s apparently an unpayable debt, unless you count putting your daughter on the table to become Ferrano property. You’re not coming to my rescue; you never planned to rescue me. For whatever reason, you sold me out. Your own daughter. I don’t know what I did to deserve this but I just wanted to extend the courtesy of letting you know I took off and I’m getting out of here before he catches me. I hope he doesn’t have you killed.”

“Sweet pea, I just need five minutes of your time, I just want to give you my side of the story, okay?” He sounded desperate.

I held the phone and squeezed my eyes shut.

“I have a bit of cash. I can give it to you, help you get out of town,” he said. “Where are you? I’ll meet you after work. I’m just here today doing inventory.”

I had $248 in my account and that wouldn’t get me far. I knew I’d have money deposited in about a week for my allowance from social services, if they hadn’t cut it off already at my disappearance. I didn’t care so much about Dad giving me money, although it’d be nice to have a little bit of help, but I did want answers. I’d been losing sleep over the fact that he’d sold me out. I wanted to know why he did this.

“Fine, West End shopping center but I can’t wait. I’ll be in the food court. Unless I think it’s dangerous, then I’ll be in the family washroom near the lockers by the food court. You can have five minutes to talk and then I’m out of here. I’ll wait twenty minutes. If you’re not here, I’m not waiting.”

“I’ll be there in ten or fifteen minutes. Thanks, sweet pea.”

I was parched. I went and bought a cold drink from one of the food vendors and sat at the table closest to the public washrooms so that if I saw anyone suspicious, it was a good vantage point; I’d be able to take off from here quickly.

The first thing I did after finding out that she’d taken off was call Greg O’Connor’s cell phone. I told him to not say a fucking word but to just listen. I didn’t want to even hear the douchebag’s voice. I told him that she’d taken off and that if he heard from her it was in his best interests to notify me immediately. He answered with a “Yes, Sir.”

I initiated a manhunt with fifteen of our guys, two cops, and called my PI. I had cars parked on the streets of Rose and Cal Crenshaw and the office and home of Susan DeLong as well as in front of that punk Nick’s apartment building.

Ten minutes later O’Connor called and told me where to find her. I hung up without saying goodbye. Thanks a fucking bunch, Asshole.

I didn’t call in help, I got in my car and drove there alone, texting Dare to call off the manhunt that I’d started. I called Pop’s house and told Lisa to hold dinner; that my fiancée and I would be there in an hour. She passed the phone to Pop, insisting he needed to speak with me. I rolled my eyes.

He knew she’d taken off from Tessa’s car and he thought it was hilarious. Him laughing at me pissed me off, big time. I knew he’d find it even more hilarious when he saw me with the injuries his little gift had bestowed on me yesterday. My brother had already seen me last night after the gym and I knew I wouldn’t live it down any time soon. Asshole was enjoying getting digs in at every available fucking opportunity.

I listened to Pop’s ribbing for all of ten seconds and hung up on him, got outta my car, walked into this mall and as soon as I neared the food court I spotted her sitting in the back corner by a frozen yogurt kiosk, looking timid, looking pretty in a black and white checked dress with a red collar. She saw me almost immediately and the look on her face was pure terror. She stood, pushing the chair back with her legs and it fell over. People were staring.

I shook my head at her, narrowing my eyes and warning her with my expression as I picked up my pace. She didn’t heed my non-verbal warning. She took off, knocking some guy’s tray filled with fast food garbage, out of his hands. She apologized and kept going, running in a pair of red high heels, clutching a red purse.

I didn’t want a scene, but I couldn’t help it, I ran after her. She wasn’t fast in those heels and I caught up to her about four stores away, catching her elbow and giving a squeeze. She let out a sound of despair and we were coming up to a hall, where there were utility rooms, so I shoved her down the hall and up against the wall. I took a deep breath in an effort to rein in my fury.

“We’re gonna casually walk out of here and get into my car and we are going to my father’s house for dinner. As planned. I’ll deal with you when we get home. Understand?”

Her eyes were feral. She wanted away from me in the worst way. She looked around like she was gonna bolt again.

“No, Athena. You aren’t gonna make a scene, you aren’t gonna do anything but what I’ve said. Understand?” I took her hand and put it under my arm and around the waistband of my pants so she could feel the butt of the gun I had back there.

She choked on a sob. I took her hand into mine and walked, fast. She struggled to keep up with me. She had tears in her eyes but she held it together as we headed to my car.

When we got in and the doors were closed, she let out a big breath.

“I don’t want to go to your parents’ house. Just take me back to your house and get the beating over with.”

I laughed. “The beating? You think that’s all that’s gonna happen?”

She stared at me wide-eyed.

I leaned toward her. “How ‘bout I burn the Crenshaw house down, put your douchebag of a father in the ground, castrate that punk you used to date, and pick one of your little girlfriends to be shipped off to a whorehouse in Mexico? How’s that for a start?”

She cowered against the door. I grabbed her chin and made her look at me, “You’ve really fucked up. Not only did you take off, but your actions have my sister thinking that things aren’t cool with you and me, and what’s with you and me is nobody’s fucking business. You broke two rules. Now I’ve had a good chunk of busy people involved in trying to find you and that means a lot of people know that my fiancée took off from me. Talk about an absolute cluster fuck!”

I squealed out of the parking lot, white-knuckled. “We’re going to my father’s house and you’ll behave yourself or you’ll be sorry. Very fucking sorry. So much for this morning, huh? Conniving little bitch.”

I couldn’t catch my breath; I was hyperventilating. I couldn’t settle down. I was gasping and I was going to throw up. Until now I knew Tommy Ferrano was scary, crazy scary, but I had no idea he was this horrifying.

“Pull over; I’m gonna puke.” I always threw up when I got super stressed.

He pushed his foot down and the car started moving even faster. I put my head in my hands, leaned forward and took a succession of slow and deep breaths, but it was no use, whatever was in my stomach was coming up,

“Pull over!” I hollered, and started to wretch, the puke came up into my throat and I managed to stop it from going projectile all over the windshield. I yanked off my seatbelt. He slammed on the brakes, jerking me forward, making me bump my head on the dashboard. I shoved open the door and he reached for my arm, but I shrugged him off and got my head out and threw up all over the road.

After a minute, once I was sure there was nothing else coming up, I sat back in the seat and closed my eyes. I wish I’d had the nerve and the strength to run. But, he had a gun. A gun.

Fuck my life.

He sat for a minute and in my peripheral vision I could see his chest was heaving. Finally, he let go of the hem of my dress, which I hadn’t realized he had in his grasp. Then he picked up his phone and dialed a number, then put it to his ear, opening the glove box with his free hand and flinging a stack of napkins in my direction.

“Dare? Yeah. Tell Pop I can’t make dinner. No. Yeah. Yup. Right, bye.”

Then he dialed again. “Earl? You there yet? Yeah, I’ve got her. We’re on our way there. See you in fifteen. You have back-up? Still? Whatever, just keep a watchful eye. I’ll see you soon.”

He started the car and then leaned over me. I flinched but he just fastened my seatbelt and then we were back on the road. I was relieved to not have to meet his family and sit at a table with them, pretending nothing was wrong.

What I was not relieved about was getting to the master bedroom, the place that had become my torture chamber. Because even when he wasn’t torturing my body, he was torturing my brain.

The ride was quiet, but the air was thick with tension. Tommy’s face was stone cold and he was white-knuckled all the way back to his house. I was petrified and wished I could either just disappear into thin air, or that we’d get pulled over and get a speeding ticket so that I could beg the cop to rescue me from this maniac.

The gate at his place opened and the car squealed to a halt. I saw Earl with a frown on his face. He looked at Tommy, then me, and I swear I saw what looked like pity. Tommy and I both got out of the car and just as I was about to round the front of the car, Earl approached me from the side. His hand came up over my mouth and I was being pulled backwards. I caught Tommy’s expression and the look on his face was utterly murderous.

I heard a loud bang. Oh God, that was Earl shooting at Tommy! Tommy hit the ground, halfway behind his car, produced his gun, and fired it in our direction. Earl fired back at Tommy and Tommy’s gun hit the ground. I saw a man come up from around the back of the house and Earl shot him. A dark red hole formed on that guy’s forehead and the man fell face-first onto the ground.

I was dragged backwards past the gate and tossed into the back seat of a big, older car out on the street. I heard a few more shots.

There were two men in the car with Earl and me. What on Earth? Earl had a gunshot wound in his shoulder. Were they rescuing me? I looked at Earl, confused. He leaned over in the back seat of the car, wincing. There was another man on my left side, a slim Black man with a mustache, and there was a man in the front seat driving who sort of looked like the Machete movie actor, Danny something or another. Tall, Mexican, long ponytail. But younger.

“Are you rescuing me?” I asked.

The driver spoke. “Be quiet, miss. All will be revealed.”

* * *

They drove to the airport. The airport? Then we drove into a hangar and there was a lot going on: people rushing everywhere, forklifts; it was mayhem. I was ushered into a big white plane with no lettering. There were only a few seats in the back; the rest of it was wide open with just a few skids that were shrink-wrapped on it.

“Are you rescuing me, Earl?” I asked again.

The slim Black guy ripped Earl’s shirt sleeve off and was inspecting the wound on his shoulder.

“Good, there’s an exit wound.” He reported and pulled out a first-aid kit.

Earl closed his eyes and shook his head as the door to the plane was closed. “Afraid not, Miss O’Connor.”

The Mexican guy pulled a gun and put it on his lap, giving me a look that shook me to my core. Oh no.

“What?” All the air left my lungs.

“Ferranos have enemies,” the guy working on Earl’s arm said, glancing up at me. “A lot of enemies. The fiancée of Tommy Ferrano is an extremely valuable commodity.”

“Earl?”

Why did I keep looking to him? I thought we’d sort of bonded over tea. There wasn’t much of any conversation or anything like that, but he’d had kind eyes. He’d been sort of nice to me. He was working for Tommy’s enemies? Was Tommy dead after those gunshots? He glanced in my direction, pain on his face.

“Where are you taking me?” I asked.

“Mexico,” he answered.

Oh no. I’d heard stories about Mexico. Heck, Tommy had warned me about human slavery in Mexico. I closed my eyes, dread filling my veins.

“No more questions. Buckle up!” said the Mexican man. “Behave and you can sit there in the comfy seat. Act up and you’ll be tossed in a sack with tape over your mouth.”

I was handed a bottle of water, which I accepted with trembling hands. The guy with the first-aid kit continued to clean up Earl’s arm and the other guy disappeared into the cockpit. I was petrified of what could be coming next.