Chapter 10
The next day, it took me twenty minutes to clean three windows—a job that usually took me no more than five.
There was no denying I was distracted. I had been all day, but the longer time stretched on, the worse I became. What had started out as a couple moments lost in thought with my first client that morning had turned into a handful of daydreams by the second. Now, at the third and final job of the day, I was officially running behind schedule, more caught up in the memories swirling in my head than the work in front of me.
It didn’t matter how many times I tried to shake myself out of it and focus; my concentration never lasted long. A few swipes of a sponge or a feather duster and my head was right back to being filled with images of Dorian’s cobalt blue eyes burning me with their intimate stare as his cock filled me all the way up, satisfying me in a way I never thought possible.
All I could think about was the feel of his hands on my body, grasping my waist, tangling in my hair, as I ground against him.
I picked up the bottle of glass cleaner and sprayed the window in front of me…only to realize that I’d just finished cleaning it a moment ago.
“Shit,” I muttered to myself, picking up the white cloth and starting to wipe it down again.
I really needed to pull myself together. Especially if I wanted to get home before dark.
Oh, and I had plans for the night.
Usually, I grabbed a book or turned on the television when I got back to the cramped single room that I paid for weekly in cash. But not tonight.
Nope, tonight I was going to skip all that and slip right into bed. Then, I would let those memories run wild in my head while I attempted to recreate a little bit of Dorian’s erotic magic with my own hand.
The thought was so absorbing that I didn’t notice the footsteps coming up behind me.
“Hey, Mary,” a smarmy voice said far too close. A cold shiver ran up my spine. “You’re taking your sweet time in here today.”
Urg. This client was one of my worst.
A thickset, oily wiseguy type, he never failed to give me a serious case of the ick on his best day. Still, today, he seemed to be laying it on particularly thick.
“My apologies, sir,” I said, always happy to keep my head down and my eyes on the floor when he was around. “I’ll finish up as quickly as I can.”
“Don’t get me wrong. I ain’t complaining.” From the corner of my eye, I watched his hairy arm extend out. He propped his palm against the window, leaving a greasy print right where I’d just cleaned. “You take all the time you want.”
That cold shiver turned into a full-on shudder.
“Thank you, sir,” I said, turning the other way to try to move away and put some distance between us. “But I’m sure Laura wants to leave on time.”
Laura was my partner for this job, and even though we’d worked it together for the last three months straight, we’d never spoken more than a few words to each other. Honestly, I had no idea what her opinions on overtime were.
“You don’t have to worry about Laura.” He took a step to block my way, forcing me to move back against the window. “I already sent her home a few minutes ago.”
He what?
My head snapped up, meeting the bastard’s gaze for the first time. His eyes were just as lecherous and foul as I’d imagined them. “Why would you do that?”
His lips slowly curled up in a cruel smile. “Because I’m her boss, and what I say goes.”
Oh, I did not like the sound of that.
“I guess that means I should go too,” I said, trying to squeeze around him, but he wouldn’t budge. “You know Jane—our actual boss—has a rule against being alone in a client’s house.”
“But you’re not alone. You’re with me.” He pressed closer, bracing both his arms against the window. Stuck between them, I was pinned in. “Besides, I’ve heard all about how much you like breaking Jane’s little rules.”
My heart began to hammer in fear, but I managed to keep my chin up, defiant. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“That’s not what your colleague, Rose, says. In fact, she had lots to say about you while she was cleaning my friend’s place. She said you stole one of her best jobs out from under her. She also mentioned that you liked to make a little extra money spreading your legs for your clients.”
Oh God. Rose and her damn mouth.
“It’s not true,” I insisted.
But the wiseguy didn’t care. He leaned in close enough to let his hot breath wash over my face. “Don’t be shy, sweetheart. I pegged you as a hot one from the first moment you walked through my door.”
I grimaced in revulsion as he swept his lustful gaze up and down the length of my body.
“I should go,” I said, unable to bring myself to call him “sir” anymore.
“Now, why would you want to do that?” he asked mockingly. “I’ve got plenty of money. Enough to keep you around for a few extra hours, at least.”
“I’m not a prostitute,” I told him plainly.
“Listen, doll,” he said, his stare turning nastier by the second. “I don’t care if you charge or if you give it up for free. The point is you ain’t leaving this apartment until you give me a taste.”
Oh, hell no. This was not happening.
I hadn’t spent the last year and a half crawling my way through hell just to end up being assaulted by some extra from Goodfellas.
“Let me go,” I said, pushing against his chest. When he didn’t budge, I tried shouldering him, but that didn’t work either. The size difference between us was just too great.
“Good. You’re feisty. This is going to be fun,” he gave a mean laugh before opening his fleshy lips and moving in for a kiss.
I turned my head at the last second, dodging the worst of it, but his tongue still squished, wet and slimy, against my cheek.
My stomach roiled, and I felt like I was going to be sick.
But before I could lose my lunch all over his polished Italian shoes, I lifted my hand and slapped him.
He didn’t like that. The bastard’s whole face turned red with rage.
“You fucking bitch!”
Then he pulled back his meaty fist and punched me in the face.
My head snapped back before ricocheting off the window with enough force to crack the glass.
For a moment, I was too dazed to think. My ears rang, and a thousand sparkles lit up the inside of my eyelids. My head swirled like water circling the drain. I feared I was about to pass out.
God only knew what would happen to me then.
A sharp pain tugged at my scalp, and I opened my eyes to realize that the son of a bitch was pulling my head back to force me to look at him. Not that it mattered since my vision stubbornly refused to focus.
“Nobody hits Carlo Costa. Fucking nobody. You got that, bitch?” he screamed in my face.
“Ghot et,” I slurred through a mouthful of blood.
Then, before he could say or do anything else, I slammed my knee as hard as I could between his legs.
The slimy prick howled in pain, doubling over before hitting the floor with a thud.
I wanted to run like hell. Every instinct inside me told me to fly out of there and never look back...but I couldn’t.
Carlo might have been a slimy bastard, but he was also an incredibly strong one. That punch had messed me up bad. My eyes still refused to focus, and my sense of balance was all out of whack.
I couldn’t make it a single step without teetering badly. At least I was able to grab onto the bookcase against the wall to steady myself. I took a deep breath, begging God to let me regain my balance sooner rather than later.
But it wasn’t soon enough.
Before I could even exhale, thick fingers wrapped around my ankle, biting into my skin.
“You fucking whore,” Carlo shrieked. “I’m gonna kill you for that. I’m gonna peel the fucking skin off your body and leave you in the street.”
Yanking hard on my leg, he pulled me down onto the floor. I landed with a hard thud on my back, knocking the wind out of my lungs.
That’s when the real panic sank in.
A second wave of adrenaline surged through me, snapping me back into survival mode as Carlo started to climb on top of me.
I reached out toward the bottom shelf of the bookcase, desperate for anything I could use as a weapon. I almost cried with relief when my hand wrapped around something hard and heavy.
My eyes still weren’t completely focused when I swung what looked suspiciously like a bowling trophy at his head.
The marble base of the trophy hit with a solid thunk against Carlo’s skull. His eyes rolled back, and he instantly collapsed on top of me, unconscious.
Unfortunately, I knew he wouldn’t stay that way for long.
Using the last of my strength, I rolled his limp body off me and pulled myself up off the floor. Even though time was of the essence, I still couldn’t resist spitting a mouthful of blood in his face before limping toward the front door.
I was still in rough shape as I stumbled out of Carlo’s building and onto the street. My vision was still fuzzy and my balance wobbly, but I was able to make the two-block trek to the subway station by leaning against the sides of the buildings.
Everyone I passed no doubt wrote me off as a drunk stumbling home. I was just grateful that the city had chosen this moment to live up to its cold and uncaring reputation. The last thing I needed was anyone deciding to play the good samaritan and call the paramedics...or, God forbid, the cops.
It wasn’t ideal, but I’d just have to take care of myself. There was no other choice.
The good news was I didn’t think I’d sustained any injuries I couldn’t handle. The blow to the head had left me with a concussion, but a few days of quiet rest would heal my vision and balance. And fortunately, nothing seemed broken—no orbital fractures, no busted septum.
There was no avoiding the massive black eye I could already feel forming, but that was just a cosmetic issue. I had bigger problems to deal with.
Muchbigger.
My ears still rang with the echoes of Carlo screaming he was going to kill me.
That hadn’t been an empty threat.
As careful as I’d been the last year and a half, I’d just screwed up big time. Now, it wasn’t just the FBI that was on my trail. There was a mobster who wanted me dead.
I wrapped my arms around myself, literally trying to hold myself together as I started to shake.
I was in a whole world of trouble, and I had no idea what I was going to do.