Page 10 of Possessive

"Terry?" I asked in a quavering voice. I hated the sound of it. I was Mina DiMarco, I was stronger than this. I'd survived everything Kurt put me through. I wasn't going to break down now.

"He's Reuben's butler and chef and whatever the hell else," Gianni said. "He looks like a mountain, but he's harmless."

"The opposite of you," I said without thinking.

Gianni chuckled. "Something like that. I'm nice on the outside, but Reuben keeps me around because I know a variety of ways to get information from people."

"Torture?" I asked.

"If it comes to that," he agreed. "It's not my preferred method, necessarily. I don't hurt people for the fun of it, unless they deserve it. So, bath or shower?"

"With hot water?" I asked.

"As hot as you want," he agreed. "Unless you prefer cold?"

"I never want to feel cold water again," I said. I managed to push the car door closed behind me, but I leaned against the outside of the vehicle. Partly for physical support and partly for emotional.

How fucked up was I that a strange car felt like a safe place?

It was the first place in five years I could sit up and see daylight. The first surface I'd sat on that was actually comfortable. It was so small, but so big at the same time.

"Then you don't have to," Gianni said. He moved around in front of me and offered me his hand. "I understand being touched might be terrible. Just think of me as a crutch. Lean on me until you can lie down in the bath and get clean. Don't think of me as a person, if that helps."

I stared at his hand. "Why are you being so nice to me?"

The question made him frown. "Sweetheart, we found you in a cage, chained up like a wild animal. Don't you think it's time someone was nice to you? Also, Reuben told me to. But I would have anyway. You remind me of myself."

That statement made me blink. "How am I anything like you?"

"Some people think I'm an animal too," he said. "Like I said, I know a variety of ways to get people to talk, including torture. I don't flinch at blood, urine or screams of pain. Does that sound like a normal person to you?"

"In the world I grew up in? Yes," I said. He might be right that we were alike, but I didn't think he really understood how much.

He grinned. "I should have expected that answer. It sounds like your childhood was as fucked up as mine." His smile faded. "More so."

"Yeah." I pushed myself off the side of the car and started to slow walk to the door.

Halfway there, I had to grab his elbow to keep from falling. Through the fabric of his button down shirt, his skin was warm, reminding me he was definitely not just a crutch. He was a living, breathing person, and that was something I should be wary of. Whether or not I thought I could trust him, he was still a man. One who stood over a head taller than me. In my current state, it wouldn't matter what skills I had. I wouldn't be able to fend off him or anyone else.

That forced me to decide. I had to go along with them for now. I had to do everything I could to get fit and strong, until I could defend myself. Besides, the idea of pizza was enticing.

"That was what I thought," Gianni said.

I glanced sideways at him in confusion.

"You're stronger than you think you are," he said. "You're a fighter. I wouldn't expect anything less from a DiMarco."

"We're known for our stubbornness." I followed him inside the house.

He stopped in the middle of the dark hardwood floor. "There's no bathroom down here. I just remembered. Can you manage one more set of stairs?" He looked annoyed at himself.

"I can manage," I said. I let go of his elbow and made my way to the staircase leading upstairs.

It looked as though it had been there for a hundred years, along with the rest of the house. This must have been one of the first in the area, the suburbs growing up around it. The property had probably been in the Brantley family for a handful of generations. And now it belonged to Reuben.

I grabbed hold of the thick banister and pulled myself up step-by-step, while Gianni walked behind me. He made no attempt to touch me, or come too close. He just kept himself near enough that if I needed help, he'd be right there.

"You know mobsters aren't supposed to be nice," I said over my shoulder.

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