Page 22 of Depraved
“Cleaning crew is at Church. We should be good to open on schedule. I’ll keep an eye on things here tonight. Then it’s closed for two days, so we should be all good,” Antonio clips out quickly.
“Perfect. Let me know if anything goes down. And let me know when you get rid of the rat we found in the kitchen. Nasty fucking animals,” I answer, knowing he knows what I mean.
I want to know when he dumps the body where it needs to go to ensure my message is received loud and clear.
“Will do.”
The line disconnects, and I sit staring at my phone. I want to call her. No, it’s worse—I want to check on her. A smile tugs at the corner of my lips as the picture plays out in my head when I remember how mad she was in that kitchen.
She didn’t even give a second thought to the asshole chained up. I laugh, relaxing back into my chair. I don’t know whether to call her a psychiatrist or propose because this girl is definitely one of a kind.
What amount of crazy am I walking into, Billy?I say to myself before shooting off a text to Vincenzo.
Me:How is she?
Vincenzo: Asleep an hour after we arrived but not before she took a swing at me. But you should be all clear. Good luck.
I can’t help but laugh because this girl is no joke. I’m gonna need all the luck I can get.
MY EYES FLUTTER OPEN, THEsun beaming in on me from the floor-to-ceiling windows in the bedroom I’m sleeping in. I roll over, turning my back to the light, feeling heavy from my exhaustion and hot from the clothes I slept in. I hadn’t planned on falling asleep so quickly, but everything hit me all at once. So now I’m in full winter attire and feeling like I’m on fire.
I tried to convince Antonio to stop by my house or a store, just so I could grab some clothes, but he deemed me untrustworthy.
One little left hook, and I’m a monster. Fucking baby.
Sitting up, I unzip my black leather boots and pull them off, dropping them to the carpet next to where I’m lying in my cream-colored decorated jail.
I can’t believe I slept like this all night.What time is it?
I look around the large space for a clock, but I don’t see one. The whole room is fairly bare. Clearly a guest room, housing just a bedroom set and a light wood entry table.
I would check my phone, but seeing as how the assholes confiscated it last night, I can’t.
“Vincenzo… Are you standing outside my door?” I yell as I roll my neck and cross my arms to pull off my sweater, pausing only to wait for the answer.
“No, it’s Matteo,” the familiar voice answers.
I grin because despite my circumstances, I like Matteo. He works with me at Church sometimes and always manages to make me laugh. We’re around the same age, so we’ve always gotten along well.
“I’m changing, so no opening the door,” I call out with less snark than I would’ve given Vincenzo, but still full of the fire I feel.
I look at the door again, waiting for a response. It’s strange to have to just trust him, but I don’t have a choice. There aren’t any locks on the doors. At least not on this room or the en suite bathroom.
“Got it,” he answers.
My skin tingles with instant relief as I remove my sweater and let out a breath. The cooler air envelops my body, making me shiver from being so overheated. Lying back, I unbutton my jeans, my hips doing a shimmy as I begin to pull them down.
A light tap at the door echoes through the room just as it opens, catching me with my damn pants down around my hips.
“Dammit! Matteo, I said no coming in,” I snap, pulling them back on.
A deep laugh accompanies the freshly shaved face that’s walking toward me. The door closes behind him. And I see red.
“You,” I spit, immediately angry, jumping to my feet my pants still undone.
“I see someone’s still angry.” He smirks, setting the drink container and bag down on an entry table by the door.
“Oh, I’m more than fucking angry.” My body lunges forward, ready to lose it on Dante. “Who the fuck do you think you are? You’ve put me in a prison. Where’s my phone…my purse?” I yell, launching myself at him, but he lifts his arms up and skirts my advances.
