Chapter 5
~Elle~
It’s been a week since I’ve been taken and three days since Dominic woke up. Since then, I’ve been spending more time in the bedroom that Dante has shown me to. I only venture into Dominic’s room when his dressing needs changing, or his medication is due.
He is out of bed now and ambulating. My bedroom is opposite his—making it impossible for me to not be aware of his frequent meetings with Dante and Dario. Their conversations pause every time I enter any room they've assembled in. God alone knows what is being discussed.
I’m isolated in my gilded prison. Other than the three men, Jimmy is the only other person I’ve met. He was the driver of the van that was used to kidnap me. He’s young, barely out of his teens, maybe twenty-one, and is the one who has been responsible for our meals.
They all seem to defer to Dominic. I’ve occasionally heard him being referred to as ‘boss’ and with Dominic’s talk of having enemies, I wonder what’s going on here? They don’t appear to be living normal lives. Now that Dominic is up and about, I know that I’ll soon be getting back to my life.
My face flushes with embarrassment and my heart races with the memory of his body’s reaction to me when I changed his dressings on the day he’d awakened.
This attraction to him is, at best, inconvenient. Based on all that I’ve observed, he’s more than likely involved in organized crime. Why else would they avoid going to the hospital, or to the police, after what was done to Dominic? If I’m smart, I’ll keep my distance.
The damage done to his back was most definitely caused by a whip.
I cringe. Remembering the myriads of injuries…
.weals with skin stripped off his broad muscular back and pink, open wounds.
A kaleidoscope of colors surrounding each injury.
His wrists bore the raw evidence of restraint, ligature marks etched deep into the skin.
The memory of Dante and Dario speaking to Dominic about me still burns with mortification.
I remember his fury at them—for my abduction, for daring to point a gun at me.
Standing outside his bedroom door, I listened, and warmth had spread through me as I imagined what it might feel like to be protected by a man like him.
A foolish part of me wanted to belong to him.
But when he was told I had no family, shame crushed me.
It dragged me back to the truth of my unworthiness.
Stupid, stupid Elle—the girl who never really belonged to anyone.
“She has no family. She grew up in foster care.” It was so embarrassing to hear myself being discussed in that way. So, I rushed into the room announcing that I needed to change his dressing.
When Dominic’s blue eyes met mine as he had awakened, I was momentarily breathless. To me, he’s more strikingly handsome than Dante—who has boyish charm, and is traditionally handsome. But, Dominic carries a darker, rugged beauty.
It’s becoming harder to keep my touch clinical with him. When he was unconscious, it was easy to maintain distance. Now that Dominic is awake, I can’t see him as just a patient. I see a man.
His gaze unsettled me, its intensity was disconcerting. When I touched him, a jolt of electricity tingled through me, leaving me to wonder—did he feel it too? I doubt it. A man like him would never want someone like me… a twenty-four-year-old virgin.
My fingers itched to brush back the black hair falling across his face, to trace the tattoos etched along his broad chest, and down his arms to his fingers.
When he finally turned to his side so I could examine his back, I exhaled in relief.
But when he lay on his back again, my cheeks burned, as I caught sight of the undeniable sign of his arousal.
So, when Dominic tried to apologize for Dante’s treatment and promised to return me to my life, mortification overwhelmed me. I fled the room, flustered, like a schoolgirl stumbling through her first crush.