“Eat your food, Harley, or I’ll have to resort to feeding you like a toddler,” he snips, and I can feel his heavy gaze on me. I don’t want to do what I’m told, but while I’m still injured, I can’t push my luck when I have no actual way of fighting back against them. If it was just him, I might try, but the three of them? There is no way, and I know it.
On autopilot, I pick up my fork and shovel some of the food in my mouth. It could be cardboard for all I know, with the bitterness still lingering in my mouth from that altercation. I was so wrong about him. I feel tricked. Manipulated. Who the hell is he, really? Not the man I met and fell for.
The trio of men surrounding me persist in their light-hearted conversation, seemingly oblivious to my presence, as if the distressing scene from earlier never took place. This shit is normal to them, and that scares me even more. How could this be normal? Maddox says something about a club, Flamingo Hotel. I’ve heard of it before, some trendy new joint that was an abandoned hotel, but I’ve never been. From what I’ve heard from Dani and the other girls I worked with at the diner, it’s one of those exclusive clubs. Members-only type arrangements. Sometimes when I worked the early shift at the diner, we would have partygoers drop in on their way home. Sounded like the place to be. But I didn’t have time to party when I was too busy trying to work that shitty job just to get by.
“When’s your next fight?” Ricky asks in Maddox’s direction. I glance toward him, wondering what fight?
“Two weeks,” Maddox grumbles around his mouthful.
“Did you hear he bought a basketball stadium, the one by the old quarry?”
“He bought a lot of things,” Alessandro mutters, uninterested. I can feel his eyes on me, but I won’t look at him. I’m more curious about what the boys are talking about.
“Last I heard, Carlo was out of money and options.” Maddox sniggers.
“The gym must be more lucrative than it looks. Or he’s still getting by off the money he made last fight…” Ricky stops mid-sentence, and I glance at Alessandro to find he’s the one who’s cut their chat short. Who the fuck were they talking about?
They change topics to some other shit I don’t understand. I tune out their chatter. I hate every one of them. And as soon as I’m able-bodied again, they will pay for reducing me to this. Six months ago, I was a carefree college student, just waiting for the summer break so I could come home and spend some quality time with my brother Marco, a time that will never come now. My heart aches for him.
When my plate is empty, I place my fork and knife together politely and push my chair back, less aggressively this time. I did what I was told. Despite the uncomfortable churning in my stomach, I ate everything.
Getting to my feet, I fix my crutches. I sense Alessandro watching me, but I refuse to acknowledge him by looking back as I stumble away from the table. If I stay here with the three of them any longer, I’m going to do or say something I’m sure they will make me regret.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Alessandro growls.
“Back to my prison cell.” My words shake out of me, anger dripping off every word.
When he stands up and strides toward me, I hold my breath. He positions himself directly in front of me so I can’t get past him. His hand gently touching my chin, he directs my gaze to meet his. His eyes have a chilling presence, dark and threatening. He’s not the same manI knew either. To be honest, I never had a deep understanding of him. The time we had together was fiery and passionate, fucking wherever and whenever we could. It was impulsive and reckless, but I didn’t experience the emotional closeness I desired with him. He held me at a distance. Now I know why; he was lying through his teeth the whole time we were together.
“I didn’t dismiss you,” he says, and it feels like he’s inviting me to test his limits and see what he does. His fingers press into my chin, causing my skin to prickle. Tension swirls between us, dangerous like wildfire, untamed and all-consuming, threatening to burn everything in its path.
I glare back, trying to get the tremor of my body under control. I don’t want him to know the effect he has on me. “What are you going to do? Have one of your men shoot me again? Do your worst, Alessandro.” I pull out of his grip and storm off as best I can with my crutches.
“I’ll take her back to her room,” Ricky mutters.
But Alessandro stops him. “Let her go. She can’t get far without us knowing about it now, anyway.”
Goosebumps prickle up my arms. I’m not sure what that comment is supposed to mean, but I don’t stick around to ask. He probably wouldn’t tell me if I did.
Chapter 10
Lying on my front,I skim the pages of a book Ricky brought up for me with my lunch yesterday. I fiddle with one of my long braids as I read, surprised he had this type of book just lying around. It’s a romance, and a steamy one at that.
My door opens, and I know Ricky’s behind me. Probably getting a superb view of my ass in the lavender booty shorts I selected this morning. They might have made me dress up for them the other night, but I much prefer to wear comfortable sportswear and tees. I don’t bother looking up at him as he places something on the bedside table beside me.
The bed dips, and I know he’s sitting right next to me. “You know what time it is, baby doll.”
I sigh, glancing over my shoulder. “Do what you have to, doc?”
His fingers brush over the back of my leg as he removes the bandage delicately. “You’re healing up nicely. I can remove your stitches today,” he says, dabbing something around the wound. “You could even leaveyour room if you want to?” Since dinner, they haven’t chained me to the bed or locked my door, but I have chosen to stay where I feel safe.
“Nope,” I huff. “But you can bring me another book. I’m done with this one.” I close the back cover, wishing my life could be like the story I just read.
“Harley, Alex is letting you get away with staying in your room because of your injury, but he won’t put up with it for much longer,” he warns me as he pulls the first thread from my skin. The thought of what he’s doing turns my stomach.
I close my eyes and bury my head in my pillow, trying to block out the awful sensation. “Guess you can tell him it’s still too sore. You know how badly it flared up after he forced me to come downstairs last time.”
“I won’t lie to my boss for you.” His voice holds a hint of remorse. Perhaps witnessing my confinement here day in and day out is invoking his more compassionate nature. Perhaps someone is finally starting to care about me.