Good Girl: Valetti Crime Family (A Bad Boy Mafia Romance) (4 page)

T
he bed is so comfortable
. So warm. And Kane covered me with a blanket and gave me a pillow to rest against. It feels so good. It’s been a long time since he left. There’s no clock in the room, but I think it’s been hours. My muscles relax, but then I remember who I am. I remember why I’m here. My body tenses and I sit up and push my back against the headboard. I can’t let my guard down.

I thought of Kane while he’s been away. My new owner. Temporary owner. Bad thoughts, things I shouldn’t be thinking. I don’t know if it’s because of what I’ve been through or something else. But I want him to take me. My thighs clench together and a wave of arousal heats my center. I’ve been a good girl. And when I’m good, they’re nice to me. They’re still rough, and sometimes it hurts. But they make sure it feels good for me, too. When I’m good.

But Kane hasn’t.

I wonder if I haven’t been good enough. If I haven’t earned my reward. Usually they establish it quickly. I shake my head. This isn’t right. “No.” The word slips past my lips as a mere breath. Something’s wrong. I shouldn’t be thinking these things. I shouldn't be fantasizing about him pinning me against the wall. My back arches at the thought.

I can’t help it.

I crave his touch. I need to know I’m being good. I’ve worked hard to be a good girl.

At least I know I haven’t angered him. I would definitely know if I had. The thought sends a chill down my spine. The warmth in my core and my heated thoughts vanish.

I still don’t understand Kane. I don’t know what to think about him.

He’s not like the others. Not yet, anyway. I don’t remember what’s normal and what isn’t. I used to think they’d be nice, they’d be different. But they’re all the same.

Except Kane. This is very, very different.

I want to believe he’s a kind person. He doesn’t seem so bad. He’s not rough with me. Not at all. And he’s given me freedom from that fucking collar that kept digging into my neck. But I’m afraid to think that. I’m afraid that he’s merely setting me up. He wants to test me. That must be it. This is all an act. He’s waiting for me to be bad.

I look down at my wrists at the shitty knot that’s binding my hands together. I could get out of this. I’m sure I could. I haven’t tried, but I know I could. He’s either not used to this, or he’s testing me. I’m not sure which one it is, and either way I would end up with the same result.

I settle my back against the headboard and square my shoulders. I will be right here when he returns. I close my eyes and picture
his
face. I will not do anything to compromise my opportunity. I know I’ll see him again soon. He’ll come to check on me. He said he would. I need to be good. I need to make sure I live to see him again. Memories flash before my eyes that harden my heart and strengthen my resolve.

My eyes pop open at the sound of the door opening. I have to remind myself Kane is the enemy. His comforting touch makes my body weak. The cravings I have are from the sick way I’ve been conditioned.

Kane is not good. I’m just fucked in the head. I need to remember that. I’ve already forgotten so much about myself. But I have to remember that. None of these men will help me. None of them are good.

He walks through the door with fistfuls of bags. I feel a pull to go help him. But I stay seated. After all, I’m tied to the bed.
Kane
tied me to the bed.

He drops the bags on the floor in the center of the room. He looks tired. He turns to me and gives me a tight smile before walking closer. I stay still and make sure to look at him. I’ve only had one other owner who wanted my attention. And he only kept me for a day.

“Sorry it took so long,” he says, as he starts untying the binds. He must see how easily they come undone, but he doesn’t say anything. Instead his face displays a quick look of worry and then confusion. But then it’s gone.

He doesn’t look back at me. He avoids eye contact altogether and that makes me worry. My heart sinks in my chest and I start to think I’ve upset him. My heart races and adrenaline flows through my veins. I stay still and wait. I need an order. Some kind of a command that I can obey.

He walks back to the bags and finally looks at me as he says, “I need you to go through these things and put them away.”

I move quickly to get off the bed and to the bags. “Yes, Kane. I understand,” I answer as I kneel on the ground. I open the first bag and I hesitate. It’s full of women’s clothes.

“Make me a list of the shit I forgot,” he says, as he walks toward the door on the other side of the room. I turn my head to face him, but all I can see is his back. I don’t have a pen and paper. I also don’t want to assume that I know everything he wanted. I go through each bag, pulling out the clothes and try not to assume they’re for me. A few bags are white plastic; Walgreens is written on the side of those. A few of the other bags are from department stores I recognize.

I hear him put a few bags down on the counter in the bathroom and he walks back into the room, avoiding my gaze once again. He told me to look at him. Didn’t he? My heart falls in my chest. I’m sure of it. I continue to move as doubt creeps in. Kane walks back into the bathroom and I hear the water running as he washes his hands.

I’m being good. I’m listening. I stack the clothes neatly next to me on the floor. There’s another bag with Advil and warm and cold compresses. There’s a tube of ointment and bandages. My heart swells in my chest thinking they may be for me. I push it down. I can’t get my hopes up. No one has ever offered me comfort like this. Even if he is, he’s not good. He’s working for
him
.

He walks out of the bathroom and looks down at the pile of clothes. My body tenses for a moment, but I continue my work. I haven’t finished. I’ll go quicker though. I can be faster if he’d like.

“I’ll get the rest,” he says, bringing my attention to him. “Is there anything you didn’t see that you’ll need?”

Yes. There’s no underwear that I’ve seen. I don’t have a hairbrush, but I can use my fingers. No deodorant or toiletries. But I’m not sure if I need them. I don’t want to make an assumption, but I don’t want to give the wrong answer either. I feel like he’s testing me on what my expectations are maybe. I’m not sure and anxiety starts creeping in.

I set down the bag I was emptying and swallow before answering, “I didn’t see anything to wash with. If that’s something you’d like me to do.”

He looks at me for a moment and then down at the bags with his brow furrowed. “Must’ve left it in the car,” he mutters after a moment. He starts to walk to the door, but then turns around. He looks at me and then the bathroom door, like he’s not sure about something. I feel frozen in place, waiting for an order. I give him my attention, but every second that passes without me unpacking a bag or doing
something
makes my anxiety peak. After a moment he finally says, “Stay here and be a good girl for me.”

I feel a weight lift off my shoulders. I nod eagerly and put my palms on my thighs. “Yes, Kane.” I know how to be a good girl.

I
f she breaks
that mirror or something else and tries to attack me, so be it. Rightfully, I fucking deserve it. I could’ve tied her up again, but I don’t like it. I walk up the stairs feeling a bit apprehensive. It was fucking stupid to leave her alone and give her a chance to arm herself. But at this point I’m feeling lower than low. I fucking hate this. If it was anyone else, I would’ve told them to fuck off.

Abram’s been known to slice a man’s throat for merely looking at him the wrong way. I never should’ve gotten involved with him. If I’d fucking known that’s who Marco was talking about, I would’ve thought twice.

Her handler, Felipe, called me while I was out. Apparently he thought I needed pointers about how to keep her in line. I don’t like being micromanaged. I know Abram’s behind this. I don’t fucking like it. I know this is a test. And I’m not willing to fail because failure is the equivalent to death, but I’m doing this my way now. They want me to take her, fine, but she’s mine and I’m doing this shit how I want.

I stop outside the door and place my free hand on the butt of my gun. The plastic bags I'm holding in my left hand shift and crinkle. She knows I’m coming. If she’s gonna put up a fight, now would be a good time.

The door opens and I find her in the corner of the room, neatly stacking a pile of clothes on top of the dark stained wood dresser. She drops quickly to her knees and pulls her hair forward, exposing her back. Her wrists cross in front of her and she stays still although her hips are slightly raised. I breathe in deep and calm my racing heart.

I only know a little about this sort of shit. And what I do know, I’m not comfortable with.

I need to figure out something though. I can’t have her keeper come here tomorrow thinking I don’t have a handle on the situation. I don’t need Abram to have me on his hit list, but I also don’t want her going back to him or in someone else’s hands. And he’ll take her from me if she’s not being “handled properly”.

I have everything I need to handle her now. Including a proper collar and leash that won’t hurt her. I don’t want to put it on her, but I can’t fuck this up.

I’m going to have to do this, but at least I can do it my way. She’s mine now.

I walk closer to her and she stays perfectly still. I put the bags on the dresser and run a hand down my face. I need to do this. I breathe out heavily and then regret it when I see her thigh start to tremble.

I lean down and pet her hair. “Good girl.” Her body relaxes slightly at my praise. Thank fuck she’s so damn obedient. I couldn’t stomach the shit I’d have to do if she wasn’t. If she can be this good the entire time, then everything will be fine.

My heart clenches and sinks in my hollow chest. I don’t know what will happen to her once they take her from me. I don’t want to think about all the possibilities. I close my eyes and focus on the present. For now, she’s with me. And that’s all that I need to focus on.

“You need to shower.” I put my hand under her chin and lift up her head to face me. Her beautiful blue eyes meet mine and for a moment, I forget it all. I forget she’s a slave. I forget she’s not mine. The world seems to tilt and I lose all sense of reasoning. My thumb gently brushes against her jaw and her eyes close as a small sigh of contentment leaves her plump lips. I feel a pull to draw her into my arms.

And then I snap out of it. My hand falls, and her head drops a bit from the loss of my touch. I pull back and turn around, facing the bathroom door. I don’t know what the fuck that was, but it can’t happen. What kind of sick fuck would that make me? She’s obviously beautiful, but she’s hurting. She’s been used and degraded, and I have no right to let a fantasy like that run through my head.

I walk to the bathroom and listen for her behind me. She’s quick to get up and walks at a steady pace to follow me. I walk straight to the shower and turn it on. I peek out of the corner of my eyes to the mirror. My back is still facing her as I put a hand under the cascade of water, waiting for it to warm for her. She stands facing me with her legs shoulder width apart, and slips one strap off her shoulder and then the other. The scrap of a dress falls to the floor, exposing her skin. Her breasts are firm and plump. Her nipples are small, pale pink buds. They harden as the air touches her tender flesh.

I close my eyes and try to will away my erection. This was not something I planned on when I decided to man the fuck up and take on this role so I didn’t get my ass killed. If I acted on my body’s urges, I’d be taking advantage of her. I won’t fucking do it. I may be a prick, and I may be a criminal. But I would never do that. I don’t give a fuck what Abram expects from me.

I hear her walk closer to me. Her small feet pad softly against the tiled floor. That and the sound of the water cascading into the shower stall are the only sounds. I lick my lips and turn to face her. I’m her keeper and I need to act like it.

I move out of her way and watch as she enters. I could leave her, but that wouldn’t be intelligent. My eyes look back at the mirror. If I was her, I’d shatter it and try to slice my throat with the largest piece I could get my hands on. I’ve seen it before. If you’re lucky, there’s not much glue holding it up, so large chunks will fall. If I was her, I wouldn’t even hesitate. I peek at her from the corner of my eyes as the sound of the water changes. She’s washing herself quickly with a nervous look on her face.

“You can take your time. No need to rush.” I say the words calmly, hoping to ease some of the tension I can see coming off of her. She’s been worried from the second I saw her. I don’t like it. She doesn’t need to worry. So long as she stays in line and obeys me, she’ll be safe.

For as long as she’s mine, anyway. I clench my jaw not liking the thought, and decide to walk over and lean against the edge of the counter.

“Ava?” I ask, to get her attention. My eyes stay on the floor, but I monitor her in my periphery.

“Yes, Kane?” she’s quick to ask, pausing her movements. Her muscles are coiled. She’s waiting for an order.

“I don’t like this, Ava.” I just want to get this shit off my chest. I’ll be honest with her. As much as I can be, anyway. “I don’t know if you can tell,” I begin to say as my eyes find hers, “but this isn’t what I usually do.” I wait to hear her response, but I don’t get one. She’s still waiting. I take a deep breath and grip the counter while looking back down at the floor.

“I’m your keeper for a while, and I know things are going to be different with me than they’ve been with your other...” I trail off and pause. I don’t fucking know what to call them.

“Masters.” She says the word for me. Masters are what they call them. Masters and Slaves.

“I don’t want you to think of me as a master, Ava. That’s not what I am.”

“Are--” she starts to ask a question, but then a jolt seems to run through her and she stills her body in the shower. I look up at her and nod.

“I want you to ask me questions. I want you listen to me.” I point a finger at her to emphasize what I say next. “But talk to me.” I almost say,
it hasn’t been that long, you must remember what it’s like to be normal
. But instead I bite my tongue and feel like a fucking asshole. Yeah, it’s only been weeks of torture and countless times being passed around, used and degraded. I’m such a fucking dick. She’s obviously fucked up from all of this. How could she not be? I grip my hair and lean back against the counter with my eyes closed. I have no fucking right to ask her to do a God damn thing.

What the fuck am I even doing? She’s gonna be gone in a week or two. I’ll never see her again, and not treating her like a… like a
slave
could get her hurt when she goes back to them. “
She’s been trained extensively.
” Abram’s words echo in my head. I fucking hate him. I hate him for telling me to do this. I hate him even more for hurting her.

“Are you my new keeper?” Ava asks, and it breaks me from my thoughts.

I look back at her, not knowing how to answer. I don’t want any part of this shit. But I don’t have a fucking choice.

I say the only words I know that are true. “You’re mine. I’m going to take care of you.”

Her eyes widen slightly in shock, and her bottom lip trembles. She asks with a shaky breath, “Are you going to save me?”

My heart sinks in my chest. I want to save her. I feel a pull to protect her...and I will, for as long as I can. But I don’t know how long that will be. And I won’t lie to her and give her false hope. I press my lips together and shake my head no.

Her head drops as she noticeably swallows and fights the urge to cry. Her shoulders turn inward as she pulls at her fingers. I feel like absolute shit. I’ve never questioned being a part of the family. Never in my life. It was the way I grew up, and the way we got shit done. Yeah we did some fucked up things, but in the long term, everything made sense.

But this? Fuck this. I don’t want any part of it. There’s not a damn thing okay with this shit.

But I can’t save her. Abram hunted her family down. He did that with all his competitors. They fucking took off and went into hiding, but he found them. If he wants you dead, you’re dead. There’s no other way around it. Right now she’s alive at least. But if we took off? If I decided to be her knight in shining armor? We’d both be dead. It would only be a matter of time. Shit. I might be dead regardless. I’m not looking forward to turning his job offer down. I rub the back of my neck and let out a heavy sigh as she straightens her shoulders and tries to compose herself.

“Finish up. It’s getting late,” I tell her, once she seems to have settled some.

My eyes travel down her body, not at all in a sexual way. She’s beautiful, but she’s not well. She’s thin and the light shines off of several small scars on her body. One is noticeably larger though, and looks like a bite mark on her shoulder. There are more small scratches on her hips and shoulders, and some look like they were left by fingernails--from digging in and piercing her skin while holding her down.

I have to close my eyes and look back to the floor. I can’t imagine everything she’s gone through. I can’t imagine what she expects from me. But I’ll do everything I can to make this easy for her. I want to protect her from that shit and take away the pain she’s in. I don’t know if I can, but I’ll at least try.

There’s no doubt in my mind. If I could save her, I would.