EMELIA
“I think I'm going to be sick,” I said, slinking down low in my seat.
I hadn't felt well for days, but the adrenaline rush of having to run from Colin had allowed me to forget about my sick stomach long enough to do what had to be done. But now that we were safe, that greasy feeling in the pit of my stomach returned and I felt like I was going to throw up all over again.
“Can we stop somewhere, please?” I asked, wondering if I was going to make it until we stopped.
“Sure thing, Emmy,” he said, looking over at me with a worried look on his face. “You okay?”
“I'm fine. Just something I ate isn't agreeing with me, I think,” I croaked. “I think the adrenaline rush from that chase is making my stomach churn.”
Deacon nodded and started to slow the car down. “So where did you learn to shoot like that?”
I shrugged. “You grow up in this life, you learn a lot of useful skills. I didn't actually think I'd ever use some of them though.”
“I suppose so,” he said with a laugh.
He pulled into the nearest gas station and I jumped out of the car and ran inside. After throwing up in the bathroom – which already appeared to be covered in vomit – I looked through the feminine hygiene section. Grabbing what I needed, I walked up to the counter, making sure Deacon wasn't around or watching me from the car or something. I saw him outside, standing at the car and watching the entrance, but he couldn't see me – or what I was buying – most likely.
I checked out, asked for a bag and rushed back out to the car.
“Feeling better, I hope?”
“Yeah, a lot, thanks. Getting that out of my system helped.” I said, climbing in the front seat of the car.
Deacon got in the other side and started the engine with a roar. We drove off, looking for the nearest hotel in this podunk little town.
“I need to ditch the car,” he said. “Find another mode of transportation for us. Just in case.”
I nodded. He was probably right. If Colin had surived the crash, he'd be looking for the Impala.
“But first, let's find somewhere to lie low,” he said. “Get some rest and we can deal with all this shit tomorrow, what do ya say?”
“Sounds like a plan.”
Deacon looked over at me, worried again. “You sure you're okay, love?”
“Yeah, just tired. Everything that's happened lately has me feeling a bit wrung out,” I said, closing my eyes and listening to the hum of the road beneath our tires. “Sleep sounds really nice.”
Deacon pulled into a hotel parking lot a few minutes later. It was a pretty gross and shabby place – looking like the sort of place that rented rooms by the hour. It was most definitely not the nicer hotels I was used to, but it would do. Deacon pulled around back so that the car not visible from the highway.
He paid with a fake name and ID. No questions asked – not surprising in a place like that. We got our room key and walked to our room, mostly in silence. Deacon was on edge, his head turning this way and that as he looked for any potential threats. I glanced around too, but didn't see anything. Then again, I wasn't as well trained and might miss something that Deacon could see.
But we made it to our room without incident, thankfully. I wan't sure I could have handled a shootout right there in the parking lot. And as soon as we were alone in the room, with the door closed and locked, I felt my entire body relax and I fell into Deacon's arms.
And to my surprise, he held me close. He stroked my hair and gently kissed the top of my head. This man, who only weeks before had kidnapped me, was now holding me close and hugging me. Comforting me. I looked up into those blue eyes and smiled, just happy to be alive – and to be with him.
He kissed me, and unlike before, there was more to it than simply raw, unadulterated lust. This time, I could tell that for him, it wasn't just about sex. It was a sweet kiss. A gentle kiss. The sort of kiss you give to somebody you truly care for – not one you just want to screw. It was a kiss that sent a shockwave through my entire body and caused butterflies to start battering the inside of my tummy.
I kissed him back, eager to return his emotions and things got heated quickly – because how could they not in that situation? This man was still insanely gorgeous to me and everything about him was sexy. Though there was more emotion behind our kissing than before, that didn't mean I wasn't still feeling powerful waves of lust for this man.
“I can't believe I'm saying this,” Deacon said as he stared into my eyes. “But I think I'm falling in love with you, Emelia.”
My heart fluttered inside of my chest and I felt such a torrent of emotion that I felt like I could cry. And in that moment – such a sweet, tender, even romantic moment – the rush of happiness I felt pushed away all the scary memories that had been etched into my mind earlier in the day.
“Really?” I choked. “I mean, I think I'm falling in love with you too, but it just doesn't seem possible, given the circumstances and all. It just seems – crazy.”
“It's crazy, but it's true,” he said, pushing a strand of hair from my face so he could see me better. “I'm as surprised as you are, but you're one hell of a girl, Emmy.”
I could feel the color rushing to my cheeks, and I remembered what I had grabbed at the gas station earlier in the day. I hadn't had a chance to use it yet, but now, given everything we'd just confessed to each other, it seemed as good a time as any to talk about it.
“Good, I'm glad to hear you say that, Deacon,” I said, looking down at his shirt instead of his face.
I focused on the buttons, fidgeting with them out of nervousness – I had no idea how he was going to react to what I was about to say. And not knowing made my insides churn.
“I'm glad you care for me, Deacon, because I think I might be pregnant.”
EMELIA
“I love you, Emelia,” he whispered into my ear, nipping at it playfully.
We were curled up on the bed of some random hotel in the middle of nowhere – a dumpy little dive, truth be told – but it was just him and me. And honestly, I was the happiest I'd ever been. Pressed up against his warm, firm body, all I wanted was to be with him.
Deacon Murphy was the man of my dreams, and no matter where we ended up, I knew we'd be happy as long as we were together. I never imagined that things could be this way with him. But I was thankful for it.
“I love you too,” I said, staring up into his deep, blue eyes and feeling my heart skip a beat. “So very much.”
“I still can't believe I met a woman who has the power to turn me to mush the way you do,” he said, kissing the tip of my nose. “And of all the women in this world I could have fallen for, I still can't believe I fell for you – the daughter of my sworn enemy. Who'd have ever thought that?”
“Tell me about it,” I said, laughing. “You weren't exactly at the top of my list either.”
Deacon looked into my eyes and lowered his face, pressing his soft lips to mine. Our kisses grew more urgent and intense as his hands moved up the length of my body, cupping my breasts and drawing a throaty groan from me.
Deacon pulled me to him, pressing his body into mine, and I felt his erection through his boxer shorts. It was still early in the morning, the sun had just come out, but Deacon's cock was already awake and standing at attention. It seemed like the perfect way to start a day to me.
Reaching down, I gripped the erection straining against the fabric of his boxers, stroking it, as I stared into his eyes. I'd never grow tired of that. I gave this man my virginity, I had his child growing inside of me, and if I had my way, he was the only man I'd ever be with.
Deacon removed my nightgown, slipping it over my head and kissing me as he tossed it to the floor on the side of the bed. I gasped when his mouth latched onto my nipple and he sucked on it. He nipped at it, teasing me with the tip of his tongue, as he stared up at me with such need in those pretty eyes of his.
“Yes, yes,” I said, arching my body toward him.
Each time he licked or sucked on my nipple, it was like having an electrical current surge through my body. The feeling of his mouth on my breasts was intense and it drove me absolutely wild. I removed his boxers, tossing them in the general direction he'd thrown my nightgown and slid my hand over the flesh of his stiff cock, gripping it tightly in my hands. Stroking him from base to tip, I smiled, loving listening to the sounds he made as I proceeded to jack him off.
“Suck me,” he begged. “Please. I need to feel your mouth on my cock.”
Having had such little experience giving oral sex to a man, I was a little nervous – but at the same time, I also loved feeling him between my lips. I loved listening to his moans and groans as I licked and sucked on him.
Pushing Deacon down onto his back, I moved down the length of his body, running my tits over his cock. I let his dick sit between them as I rubbed it up and down, licking just the tip of him as I stared into his eyes. His fingertips dug into the flesh of my shoulders and he groaned as I continued to tease him with the tip of my tongue.
“You are so fucking beautiful,” he gasped. “Do you know that?”
“I'm just glad you think so,” I said, moving lower and gripping him in my hand.
I took the head of his cock between my lips as I stroked the base, never breaking eye contact with him as I did it. His hand ran along the back of my head as I teased and taunted him with my lips and tongue, taking just a little bit of him into my mouth at a time. Instead of taking him into my mouth completely, like I knew he wanted me to, I licked him up and down and all around the tip, just savoring the experience and the way he looked down at me. Relishing that look of pure desire and need in his eyes.
I watched the need build in his eyes, saw the tension of pure want on his face, and could only smile. I was in control and I had the power. And when he least expected it, I fully engulfed him with my mouth, taking him in as far as I could. Since he was so large, my hand made up the difference – there was no way I could take his entire cock into my mouth at once. I bobbed my head up and down on his shaft, moving slowly at first until his breathing grew ragged and his body grew tense. He moaned with pleasure and called my name softly, which made me even wetter than I already was.
I didn't want to make him cum like that – especially not so soon – so I pulled back, licking the pre-cum from his tip and letting him watch as it stretched from his cock to my tongue.
With his balls in my hand, I went back to licking and kissing the sides of his shaft as I stroked the head of his dick, and Deacon was groaning louder. He was begging me to take him into my throat, to suck him harder. Which I did once more, taking him all in at once, drawing an animalistic grunt from him as I did.
“Stop, stop, stop,” he said, but he arched upward, almost as if his body was begging me not to listen. “I don't want to finish yet.”
As much as I wanted to finish him off with my mouth, my body also had needs of its own that it was crying out to be sated – like having him inside of me.
Sliding up his body and crawling on top of him, I straddled him and placed my opening against his hard shaft, letting just the tip penetrate the lips of my pussy. Our eyes met and was followed by our lips as our kissing intensified, the passion flowing between us. As our tongues danced in my mouth, Deacon thrust his hips upward, driving himself inside of me and taking me by surprise. My eyes grew wide and I gasped as he filled me up completely.
With his hands on my ass cupping and squeezing, he moved me up and down on top of him, his nails digging into my flesh and his cock slamming deep into me. His tongue pushed past my lips as he kissed me while I rode his body, hard, rubbing my clit against him with each downward motion. Never in my life had anything felt as good as this.
He moved his head down, taking my nipple into his mouth, licking and sucking on it while I increased my pace and fucked him harder. Faster. He threw his head back and cried out as I gripped his cock with the muscles in my pussy.
“Jesus, Emelia,” he moaned. “Jesus Christ, yes. Don't stop.”
And I didn't stop. Planting my hands against his hard chest for support, I started thrusting my hips up and down, fucking him harder, taking him deeper. I felt the pressure building up low within me, could feel my orgasm building like a wave out on the ocean. And I knew that it was only a matter of time before that wave came crashing down over me.
Deacon's body twitched and spasmed as I rode him. His muscles tensed and he gritted his teeth. I knew he wasn't going to last much longer either. The sensations were so amazing and so powerful, I wasn't ready for it to end and wanted to keep it going as long as possible.
Deacon groaned and stopped me – though I could see the regret in his eyes. He looked at me and smiled.
“My turn,” he said.
He pulled me down off of him, putting me down on my hands and knees. He got behind me and guided his cock to my opening. With one hard thrust, he buried himself deep inside of me, drawing a gasp from me. With one hand, he grabbed on to my hip as he started to pump his cock in and out of my wet pussy. His other hand found my hair, giving it a nice hard pull, forcing my head back.
The blend of the small amount of pain of him pulling my hair blended with the pleasure of him thrusting his cock deep into me drove me insane. I cried out, calling his name, begged him to fuck me harder – a request which he was more than happy to oblige.
The sound of our bodies slapping together echoed around the small room, mixing with our grunts, moans, and cries, creating an amazing symphony. His fingers dug into the flesh of my hip and I knew he was nearing the end of the line. At the same time though, that wave that had been building on the horizon within me came rushing to the shore, breaking with a speed and intensity I didn't expect.
My body spasmed and felt like it was on fire as I came, sensations of pleasure radiating along my every nerve ending. I screamed out Deacon's name as I came harder than I ever thought possible. And that was it for him.
I felt Deacon's body lock up and he pulled back as he moaned. I felt his hot seed shooting all over my back and my ass. It felt like a warm rain splashing down on my skin and I loved the sensation of it.
I fell onto my stomach and Deacon collapsed next to me on his back. Our breathing was ragged and laboured, but we couldn't contain our smiles. He leaned over and kissed me again, this time a little bit softer and gentler.
He pulled away and looked me in the eye. “I love you, Emelia,” he whispered. “I'm so lucky to have you in my life.”
I smiled and felt my tears begin to well with tears. “I love you, Deacon.”
DEACON
Staring down at her, despite everything that had happened, I couldn't shake the feeling that I was one of the luckiest guys on the planet. Sure, I'd lost the Brothers in this whole mess, but given what I knew now, I was probably better off for it. I thought they'd have my back through thick and thin, but come to find out, they'd deceived me. They'd lied to me. They'd tried to kill me.
And one day, I'd have my revenge for that. For now though, I had Emelia. And that was more than enough.
I stroked a strand of her hair from her face as she slept peacefully, curled up beside me. Her chest rose and fell with each deep breath. Living in hotels like this, living on the run – it was no life for her and it was no way to raise a child. I needed to figure something out, find somewhere we could go, somewhere we could stay and be safe. And I needed to figure it all out quick.
But for now, I needed to take care of my sleeping beauty. I needed to make sure that she was okay. That she was safe. And that meant making sure she had food and everything else she could possibly need or want. I wanted to give her everything. Wanted to make sure she knew she was loved and to treat her like the queen she was.
My stomach rumbled, reminding me that it had been a little while since we'd last eaten and I remembered the diner attached to the hotel. I figured that I could run down there, pick up some pancakes and orange juice and be back before she woke up for the second time that morning. I could serve her breakfast in bed – which I thought would be the second-best way to start the day.
Not wanting to wake her, I carefully pulled myself out from underneath her. Despite my jostling – even as careful as I tried to be – she thankfully continued to sleep soundly. I grabbed my clothes off the floor and hurried to get dressed, making sure to place a gun next to her on the table – just in case. With those pricks out there, I wasn't going to take any chances.
And, as I'd witnessed that night in the car, my Emmy wasn't like other women out there. She knew how to take care of herself, and that included using a gun. She'd earned my respect and I trusted that she could defend herself, if the chips were down and she needed to. I gently kissed her on the cheek and made sure to grab a gun of my own – again, just in case – before shutting the door and making sure it locked behind me.
The diner – The Golden Pancake House – wasn't likely to have amazing food. I could tell just by looking at the cracked, fading sign, and the cheap dime store decorations. That and the fact that it was attached to a cheap hotel and all, more or less guaranteed the food would be substandard. But it would do. I didn't want to go too far, not without Emelia by my side.
I figured we'd head out once she woke up and then decided what our next destination was going to be. We'd talked about heading south, into Mexico and maybe even down as far as South America. But we didn't have anything set in stone yet. We had no firm plans and everything was on the table.
“Good morning,” the waitress said as soon as I walked into the diner. “Seating for one?”
“Uhh no, I'm taking it to go. My – my girlfriend,” it sounded so strange to say that, and honestly, I wasn't sure if I should even be calling her that, “is still sleeping. I wanted to surprise her with breakfast in bed.”
“Of course,” she said and smiled as she pulled out a menu. “Just let me know what you'd like and we'll get that right up for ya.”
Honestly, I had no idea what Emelia liked. I was still so new to this – and new to her – that I didn't know if she preferred pancakes over waffles or if she was more of a French toast sort of girl. Not to mention that I had zero clue whether she liked bacon or sausage – or neither. Normally, I might not care, but for some reason, with Emelia, I cared. I cared a lot and wanted to make this right. She mattered to me, which meant that even the smallest little detail like bacon or sausage mattered to me. As crazy as that was to think, let alone say.
As I stared down at the menu, the sound of a gunshot ripped through the morning air outside. My head spun around and I stared out the glass windows with my stomach up in my throat. My heart was pounding and adrenaline rushed through me as I stood up from the stood. I couldn't see our room from where I was, which only made me more nervous. I dropped the menu and rushed outside to see what had happened – as did the waitress and several others.
“What's going on?” she asked. “What was that? Was that a gunshot?”
I didn't have the time or inclination to answer. All I knew was that I had to get to Emelia. As I rounded the corner heading toward our room, my heart was racing and the knot in my stomach constricted painfully. I was already fearing the worst.
And I was right to be.
I watched as a black sedan pulled out of the parking lot in a squeal of tires and plumes of smoke as it sped down the road. An animalistic growl escaped my throat as I stepped into our room. The door was wide open – and judging by the shattered wood, it had been kicked open – and as I entered, I saw the signs of a vicious struggle. Tables turned over, lamps knocked to the ground, bedsheets ripped from the beds – she had put up one hell of a fight.
But Emelia was nowhere to be found.
The gun had been used – hence, the shot we'd heard – but apparently it had been too late when she'd fired the shot since the weapon was on the floor beside the bed. I turned and saw that there was a hole in the door – she'd taken a shot but had missed someone who'd been standing there. But she'd tried. Oh God, she'd tried.
Which meant, she'd been taken against her will – as if the destroyed hotel room weren't proof of that enough. Whether it was her father or someone else though, I didn't know. All I knew was that no one had a right to take her like this.
No one.
My eyes narrowed and I felt my gut churning. There was a deep well of rage bubbling up within me. I was going to get Emelia back. And I was going to make somebody pay for taking her in the first place.
As I stood in the wrecked hotel room, feeling like I'd been kicked in the nuts, I made that vow to myself. Somebody was going to bleed for what they'd done. And they were going to bleed badly.
EMELIA
“Who the fuck are you?” I screamed, kicking at the seat. “What the fuck do you want with me?”
My hands were tied, but I could kick and scream all I wanted to. The men wore masks, but their thick, Italian accents sounded familiar. Very familiar. Too familiar, in fact.
“We work for your father,” the driver said.
Yeah, that figures. I wasn't really all that surprised to hear them say that – not after I'd heard their accents the first time. Fucking great.
“So that gives you a right to break into my hotel room and pull me our forcibly?” I yelled. “I didn't want to go with you pricks, in case you missed the ever so subtle warning of me shooting at you.”
“We were rescuing you, princess,” the driver said. “You need to relax.”
The guy in the passenger seat stayed quiet and kept his eyes fixed on the road ahead.
“Rescue me, huh?” I snapped. “If that's the case, then why am I restrained like a prisoner?”
“For your own safety, Emelia,” he said. “We knew things were going to happen fast, and we weren't sure you'd recognize us. So we had to restrain you for your safety.”
“And yours, I presume?” I narrowed my gaze.
“We didn't know you'd be armed,” he said. “But it made me glad we had to restrain you so there were no – accidents.”
“Did it ever occur to you that maybe I didn't want to be rescued?” I asked.
The two men looked at each other and laughed, but didn't bother to say anything to me – which only pissed me off even more. I struggled against my bonds, trying to find a way to wiggle out of them. When that didn't succeed, I did the only thing left open to me – vow to kick both of their asses and repeat myself.
“Hello?” I snapped. “I honestly have no desire to go back to my father. Did either one of you geniuss ever think of that?”
“Stockholm syndrome,” the passenger said.
“Has to be,” replied the driver.
“That took hold pretty fast,” the passenger said. “Faster than I would've thought.”
“No, it's not Stockholm syndrome, you assholes,” I growled. “I don't want to go back. Deacon and I – ”
“Deacon Murphy?” the driver asked as he looked back at me in the rearview mirror. “Where is good ol' Deacon?”
“He was – ”
I almost said he was there with me but stopped myself short. Because honestly, I had no idea where he was. He'd been there when I drifted off to sleep, but when they broke into the room, he was nowhere to be found. If he had been, I had no doubt they wouldn't have gotten away with me. I would have bet my life on the idea that they would both be dead and we'd be far away from that dumpy little motel.
But he hadn't been there. He'd vanished. And I was tied up in the back of a car, being dragged back to my father.
“I don't know where he is now,” I said sullenly. “He was staying with me, but it appears he left before you two assholes got there.”
I had no idea where he was and I felt a stab of pain in my heart when I thought about waking up to that empty bed. But I argued with myself because Deacon wouldn't have left me – not like that. He loved me. I had no doubt about that. But where was he? Where had he gone?
At first, I feared he'd been killed, his body somewhere in our room. But when the man asked me Deacon's whereabouts, it reassured me that he got away. That he was alive out there. And if I knew Deacon – and I believed I did – I knew that he loved me and it would only be a matter of time before he found me. He would turn the world upside down to find me.
“What are you smiling about back there?” the driver asked. “Something funny, princess?”
“Oh nothing,” I said, stretching out in the backseat. “Just imagining what my boyfriend will do to you once he finds you, that's all. It's not going to be pretty and personally, I can't wait to watch him take you both apart.”
“Your boyfriend?” he asked. “Don't you mean, your fiance?”
By fiance, he of course, meant Tony. Just hearing the old man's name though, made me laugh out loud.
“No, I'm no longer Tony's. Truthfully, I was never Tony's,” I said. “No, I'm talking about your worst enemy, Deacon Murphy. He's going to come for me and he will burn you all to the ground to get me back.”
“You and Deacon?” the passenger asked, turning to look at me for the first time. “You two are a thing now? Seriously?”
I shrugged. “Maybe. Not that it's any of your business,” I said. “All you need to know is that once he finds you two, he's going to have some fun with the both of you. At least for a little while. After that, I'm going to run off with him again, so you might as well enjoy the last few hours you have left on this planet.”
I couldn't see the man's face thanks to the mask he was wearing, but I didn't have to see it to know what was going through his mind. The way he looked over at the driver told me all I needed to know. He was worried. They feared Deacon and the hell he'd inflict upon them both for taking me – as they should.
But what they didn't realize is that they should fear me as well, because there was no way – no way in hell – I was going to back to my father. And there was even less of a chance that I was going to marry Tony. Never in a million years.
I'd been resigned to my fate for a long while. But that was before Deacon came into my life. And now that he had, I knew I had options. And having options meant I could be free. For the first time in my life, I had experienced freedom with Deacon and there was no way I was giving that up again. There was no way I was going to let them put the shackles back on me and the albatross that was Tony around my neck.
Not when Deacon was out there. He would come for me and we would be together again. We would live free and build the life that we wanted to live. That wasn't even a question in my mind.
Besides, we had a child to raise together. I rested my hand on my tummy, feeling blessed and ecstatic to be carrying his child. No one would keep me away from Deacon. Nobody was going to keep me from my baby's father.
No one. Not even my own father. I would tear this world apart to make sure that didn't happen.
ooo000ooo
“Emelia!” my father said, rushing over to me and embracing me the moment we got back home. “I can't tell you how happy I am to see you standing here. I feared the worst had happened to my little girl.”
“I'm fine, father,” I said, my words coming out a little harsher than intended.
As much as I loved my father, I realized now that I was nothing but a pawn to him. A means to an end. A way to build the reputation and esteem of my family name. A real father wouldn't give their daughter away to somebody they didn't want to be with. A real father wouldn't force a marriage upon his daughter simply to secure some deals with their rivals. A real father wouldn't treat his daughter like a commodity. A bargaining chip.
No, if he really cared for me, he'd want me to be happy. Even if being happy meant that I would be with Deacon. But I knew he'd never, ever let happen. He would see me dead before he ever saw me walk down the aisle with Deacon. I knew that with absolute certainty. I felt it down deep in my bones.
My father sat down at his desk and motioned for me to sit down across from him. He looked at me for a long moment, smiling wide. I was growing uncomfortable beneath his scrutiny and found myself fidgeting with my hands, avoiding his gaze.
“Tony and I have been worried sick about you,” he finally said.
I cringed at the mention of Tony's name. The idea that he was out there looking for me, hoping to find me and bring me home just so I could marry him and give him children – well, that just disgusted me more now than it ever had before. I had no desire to ever see his face again. And even less desire to feel his hands on me for even a second.
“Nico and Pauly said you appeared to be showing feelings for your captor, dear?” my father asked, raising an eyebrow. “I have to tell you, I find that more than a little concerning.”
I knew I couldn't tell him everything. I couldn't shoot my mouth off the way I had with the two men who'd taken me from my hotel room. Not if I wanted him to allow me some freedom – at least freedom enough that I could reach out to Deacon. If I did anything to upset him or raise the red flags in his head, he was going to have somebody watching me every minute of the day. And if that happened, there was no way I was going to be able to get a call out to Deacon – not without being observed and overheard.
Honestly, I should have kept my mouth shut back there in the car. I was kicking myself now for my lack of discretion. But I was so angry and frustrated that it had all just come out before I had a chance to check myself and think it through. I'd let my anger spill over and I'd said too much. I needed to keep my feelings secret for now. I needed to be smart about this. At least until I could get ahold of Deacon and get him a message. Let him know where I was.
“Maybe so,” I said. “Honestly, Deacon Murphy took very good care of me. He was kind and even gentle with me. So, I have no complaints. He was a gentleman, father.”
“He didn't harm you?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. “Are you certain?”
“Not at all,” I said. “He made sure his men didn't lay a hand on me either. Like I said, he was kind and took care of me.”
My dad looked surprised, but then a sinister smile crossed his face. “Probably because he knew I'd make him suffer mightily before I killed him if he hadn't treated you well. He's wiser than I gave him credit for.”
I knew it went deeper than that though. I knew that Deacon wasn't like the other men who lived this life. But no matter what I said, no matter what defense I mounted, I knew my father wouldn't believe me. He hated Deacon and his family with everything in him and would never hear, let alone accept, that they hadn't mistreated me.
“As it stands, I'm just going to kill him quickly,” he said. “Get it over with before he knows what hits him. Consider it a kindness. A thank you for not harming my daughter, of course.”
“Please, father,” I said, choking on my words. “Can't we just let him go? There's no reason to hurt him. No reason to kill him. He's done nothing.”
“Let him go?” my father scoffed. “He stole the heir to the Antonelli family fortune. Kidnapped her. I can't just let something like that go. No, I cannot let that pass. What sort of message would that send? I'm sorry, but kind or not, he needs to pay for his crimes, Emelia. And pay he will.”
I knew that arguing with my father would be futile. It might even make thing worse. I'd need my freedom to warn Deacon. I'd need it so I could escape and join him again. Which is exactly what I planned to do. Because when I did get back to him, we were going to disappear completely. We were going to go somewhere neither his family nor mine would ever find us.
We were going to go somewhere we could live our lives and raise our family. Together.
DEACON
I'd checked out of the hotel room shortly after Emelia had been taken and was driving back to Chicago as fast as I could. I wasn't sure where Emelia was being held – not with any certainty – but I had a fairly good idea. I figured that either her father or my Brothers had her. And when I found out who it was and where they were keeping her, I was going to get her back and them make them pay once I found them.
I was going to hurt them like they'd never been hurt before. And I was going to enjoy every last second of hearing them scream.
As I drove down the lonely roads of Illinois, my phone rang. I picked it up, not recognizing the number. Ordinarily, I wouldn't answer an unknown number, but something in my gut was telling me to answer.
“Hello,” I said.
“Deacon?” It was Emelia. “It's me.”
“Oh thank God,” I said. “I've been so goddamn worried about you. Where are you? Who has you? Are you okay?”
“I'm fine,” she said, whispering. “It's my father, Deacon. He thinks he rescued me from you – ”
She cut herself off and I heard what sounded her putting her hand over the phone. There were muffled voices in the background – she was talking to someone, but I couldn't make out who it was or what they were saying.
“No, I'm fine. Really, I am,” she said to the other person. “I don't need anything, but thank you Esme. May I please have a little privacy? I'm on the phone. Yes, thank you.”
“Sorry,” she whispered. “The maid. Where was I?”
At least it sounded like she was safe and wasn't being held hostage. That was a good thing.
“You're safe then, Emelia?” I asked.
“I am,” she said. “At least for the moment. I don't know what's going to happen when my father brings Tony around.”
For a moment, I feared that maybe this was goodbye. I thought that perhaps now that she was back at home, was safe and happy, that what we had between us was going to evaporate. That it had all been an illusion – or at least something that was temporary and easily cast aside. My heart ached at the mere thought of it, but if that was what she truly wanted – I would have no choice but to honor her wishes.
“Please come get me, Deacon,” she said, her voice choked with tears. “I'm begging you. I can't be here anymore. I only want to be with you.”
“Everything is okay, right?” I asked. “You're not being hurt or anything like that?”
“Of course everything is okay. And no, I'm not being hurt. Everything is back to normal around here. The status quo has been restored,” I said. “My dad doesn't even suspect that there's anything between us. And he doesn't know about the baby. Not yet. And he won't until I'm far, far away from this house. I can't stay here. I won't. I miss you, Deacon.”
“I miss you too, Emelia.”
“So that means you'll come get me? And we can run away together like we talked about? We can go somewhere far away?” she laughed, but I could also tell she'd been crying.
“Of course, love,” I said softly. “In fact, I'm already on the road.”
“Good,” she said. “Because I love you, Deacon. And I want to be with you. Need to be with you.”
“I love you too, Emmy.”
There were more voices in the background. “I have to go, Deacon,” she said quickly. “But you have my number, so call me when you're close and I'll figure something out. But be careful. My father is looking for you. He said he's going to do terrible things to you, so please, please be careful.”
She hung up and the phone went dead before I could say anything else. Hearing her begging me to come save her nearly brought tears to my eyes – and I wasn't the type of man who cried very easily. In fact, I couldn't recall the last time I cried. But this girl, she did something to me that I couldn't explain. She had a way of getting into my head and twisting my thoughts and emotions all around. I couldn't think straight when I was near her and my head always seemed to be in the clouds.
Emelia was special. She was unlike anybody I'd ever known before and she really seemed to fill holes within me that I never knew existed before she fell into my life. And I knew I'd never be the same again because of her. I had to get her back.
And there I was, heading back into town with both my Brothers and the Italian mafia on my ass, looking to kill me. If I were smart, I would have been running far away, not running toward the danger. If I were smart, I would have been putting as many miles between me and Chicago as humanly possible and would never set foot on those streets again.
But my Emmy wanted me to come get her – and how could I say no to that?
I couldn't. Which was why I was willingly walking back into the lion's den.
Emelia
“Who were you talking to on the phone earlier, Emelia?” my father asked me, his eyes narrowing as he stared at me.
“A friend,” I said, staring down at my plate, feeling anything but hungry in that moment.
Esme had prepared a lavish feast to celebrate my return. She'd cooked all of my favorites, but I honestly didn't think I could keep anything down even if I'd wanted to. Tony was sitting next to me, holding my hand, and it took everything in me not to slap his hand away from mine. I didn't want to touch him. I didn't want him anywhere near me. The simple fact that he was holding my hand sent waves of revulsion sweeping through me and I was fighting the urge to throw up then and there.
“A friend?” my father pressed. “And which friend might that be, dear?”
“Just one of my friends, dad. You wouldn't know him.”
I flinched as soon as I said the word “him” because I knew that would only bring on more questions – from both my father and Tony. But it had just slipped out.
“Him, huh?” Tony asked, taking a long swallow of wine and then laughing. “Sounds like I've got some competition, eh?”
Tony – my fiance thanks to my father's meddling – was much older than me and repulsed me in ways I never knew I could be repulsed before. Maybe to some people, he'd be considered good looking. Perhaps even distinguished. But he smelled like stale cigarettes, had yellowed teeth from smoking too much and his face took on that pale, pinched look of someone who was already starting to age – and not very well.
I saw nothing attractive about him, and I was convinced that anyone who said otherwise only saw one thing – his money. And there was no question, Tony had a lot of money.
But to hell with money. I didn't want or need Tony's money. And I certainly didn't want to be tied down to that old man – much less sleep with him night after night – just so I could go shopping whenever I wanted to without having to worry about the price tags.
And there was no way in hell I wanted to be saddled with that disgusting old man now that I knew what real love was like.
“Not like that,” I said, rolling my eyes. “He's just a friend of mine.”
“You've remained pure for me, haven't you?” Tony asked, even with my father sitting right there. “Not been whoring yourself around, have you? Because you know that your purity is very important to me. Very important.”
“Of course not,” I said, feeling my stomach churn. “I mean, I'm not whoring around. I am a good girl. Always have been, always will be. I was raised well, Tony.”
Tony's hand moved off my hand and slid down my leg until it was resting on my thigh. He smiled and gave me a gentle squeeze. I thought I might actually throw up as he leered at me. My body stiffened up and I no longer could stomach eating my dinner as he stroked my thigh, moving higher and higher, sliding his hand ever closer to my most intimate parts – parts that he would never see. Not in this lifetime, anyway.
“Please don't,” I muttered under my breath.
I looked at Tony, and if he'd heard me, he gave no indication. My guess though, was that he already considered me his property and felt entitled to do whatever he wished, whenever he wished it. So he ignored my request. Instead, he continued to stroke my thigh through my pants and my stomach roiled. I couldn't speak, I just stared at my plate and tried to pretend this wasn't happening. That he wasn't groping me in front of my father.
My father stared hard at me. I knew he knew exactly what Tony was doing right there at his dinner table – and yet, he was doing nothing about it. I had the irrational urge to grab my knife and slit both of their throats right then and there. But I took a deep breath and tried to will myself to relax. Doing something rash – knowing that Deacon was coming for me – wouldn't be smart. And I really needed to play things smart for the moment.
“I don't think it's wise of you to be talking to other men, Emelia,” my father said. “Not this close to your wedding, and not without supervision. I just think it sends a very poor message. And we wouldn't want to do that, now would we?”
“What am I, a prisoner?” I snapped. “I thought you rescued me from my kidnappers. I didn't realize I was going to have to have somebody babysit me twenty four hours a day, monitoring my calls or who I talk to.”
As soon as I said it, I knew I shouldn't have. Tony grabbed my inner thigh, pinching the skin roughly, making me yelp in pain. I looked at him with hatred burning in my eyes. It would be so easy to bury my knife in his soft, fleshy throat. He'd never see it coming and I could have it buried to the hilt before he even reacted. And it took everything in me to keep myself from doing just that.
“No, you're not a prisoner,” my father said, staring at me with a serious, grim expression on his face. “But sometimes, a father knows what's best for his daughter. And right now, I'm just trying to protect you.”
“Protect me from who?” I asked, staring at Tony.
My father wasn't doing a very good job of protecting me from Tony right now – and that was obviously who I needed protection from.
“From Deacon, of course,” my dad said.
“Why would you – ”
“Don't assume I'm stupid or naive, Emelia,” my dad said, his voice rising. “I know how to check phone records. I know a lot more than you think I do. There is literally nothing that goes on in this house that I don't know about. You would do well to remember that while you're living under my roof.”
“What do you know exactly, father?” I said. “What is there to know? That I called Deacon? Big deal.”
Tony moved to pinch me again, but I grabbed his hand roughly and pulled it away from my thigh. He looked at me, an expression of surprise on his face – and a light in his eyes that said I would pay for that insolence later, when my father wasn't present and couldn't stop him. I had no doubt that Tony was the kind of man who liked to slap his women around. Beat them. Maybe worse. And I knew that he viewed me as a spirited horse that needed to be broken – and that he would enjoy trying to do just that.
My father wiped his mouth with his napkin and smiled. “I know that you and Deacon were close. I know that you let him in,” he said. “Because my men had been watching you, for some time actually, before swooping in and picking you up from that motel. I also know you called him earlier today, on the cell phone I gave you. Which is no longer in your possession, I might add.”
I had left the phone on the desk in my room before coming down for dinner, but my father dropped it upon the table with a thud. I stared at him, my mouth agape and a cold finger of dread sliding up my spine.
“Why did you even let me have it then?” I growled. “If you were only going to use it to spy on me?”
“Because I knew you'd reach out to him,” my dad said, smiling ever so wide, “I also knew he'd come for you, child. And trust me when I say that we have plans for Deacon Murphy. Big plans for him. I can't wait, actually. And I'm excited that you get to watch what we do to him.”
My heart sank and a knot tightened painfully in my belly. All of this was a trap, and now, there I was, a prisoner in my own home, completely unable to reach out to Deacon to warn him. He was going to walk into an ambush that was likely going to get him killed and it was all my fault.
“Why are you doing this, father?” I asked, tears welling in my eyes. “You have me back now. Why not just let him go?”
“Because he took something that belongs to me,” my father said. “And not only that, he took something that belonged to Tony as well. And for that, I'm going to let Tony have some fun with him too. He is going to pay a steep price for thinking he could just waltz in and take that which was not his. He – and his entire brood – need to learn their place.”
I stared at the two men who were now grinning at me, waiting for me to say something. But my heart hurt too much. It was breaking at the mere thought of them hurting Deacon. I wanted to scream, cry, to fight back. But there was nothing I could do. Tony had put his hand on my thigh again and gripped it even tighter. And the way he looked at me – like I was a piece of meat ready to be devoured – scared me to death. If he knew I was no longer a virgin, did that mean he was going to have his way with me long before our wedding? Would my father let him?
I looked at my dad, and I so badly wanted to plead with him. I so badly wanted to hurt him.
“I'm not an object, dad,” I said, the tears sliding down my cheeks. “I'm your little girl. Why are you doing this to me?”
His eyes softened slightly – but only for a moment. They returned to the cold, hard chips of diamond that they usually were. Devoid of all emotion.
“The question should be, why did you do this to me, Emelia?” he asked. “Why did you betray your family like this?”
“I didn't – I didn't mean to,” I pleaded. “It just happened, but I promise – I won't stray again. I swear it. Just leave him be, father.”
“No, you won't do this again,” he said. “That much, I can guarantee.”
“Just leave Deacon out of this,” I said. “Please.”
Both men laughed – and not just the evil little chuckles of bad men doing bad things. No, these were full on belly laughs that shook their entire bodies. I remained silent, not sure what was so funny, but apparently it was something they thought was hilarious. The longer they laughed, the angrier I grew. But before I could unleash a verbal assault, my father spoke.
“No way, Emelia,” he said. “Like I told you, he took something that belonged to me, and he's going to pay. Dearly. There's nothing you can do about it now.”
ooo000ooo
Tony had tried to follow me to my bedroom – and I had no doubt what was going through his mind – but my father stopped him. Thankfully.
“What? She's already been with a man, why does it matter?” he asked, pitching his voice loud enough that I could hear him.
“You're still under my roof and she's still my daughter,” my father said. “I don't want that happening down the hall from where I'm sleeping. Wait until she's yours, Tony. Then, feel free to do with her whatever you wish.”
Tony grumbled, but I was thankful. I looked back down at the two men who stared at me with open hostility and disdain. I was a dirty, vile thing to them – nothing more than used merchandise. My father was likely angry about that, and Tony – well Tony would just use that as an excuse to take whatever he wanted from me whenever he wanted. I had no doubts that he believed I was going to be made to pay for my sins by his hand. I had no doubt that he would take every opportunity to degrade and humiliate me.
I had to make sure he never got the chance. Neither one of them knew I was pregnant with Deacon's child – and I shuddered to think what they would do to me if they did know. All I knew for certain was that I didn't want to find out.
Even though they didn't follow me, I knew there were people watching me. I knew I wasn't alone. My father showed that he didn't trust me, which told me that he was going to keep eyes on me every minute of every day. If I was going to make a break for it, I was going to have to be incredibly clever. Or incredibly lucky.
As I slipped into my room, I walked over to the patio door, hoping to step out and get some fresh air. But I found that the door wouldn't open. I fumbled with the lock and rattled the door, hoping that it was just stuck. But looking down, I saw why it wouldn't budge and my heart sank. My father had sealed the doors shut. I wasn't going out that way.
I went over to my window. Same thing. Then to the bathroom where I checked the tiny window above the bath – and it too was sealed shut. As if he expected me to slink out of a tiny window on the second story of our home. I was well and truly trapped inside my room with absolutely no way out of it.
Suddenly, I felt very claustrophobic. I was literally locked away, a prisoner in my own home. No way to reach out to Deacon, no way to even escape from the home. No phone, no internet. No way of communicating with the outside world at all. I had nothing.
I fell against the bathroom door, drew my knees up to my chest and buried my head in my hands, as I started to panic. I felt like I was on the verge of hyperventilating and my heart was racing like I'd just run a marathon. I was scared not just for me and my unborn child, but also for Deacon. My father had set up a trap for him, and I had unwittingly lured Deacon right into it.
I couldn't let that happen. I couldn't let him be hurt. As much as I wanted to have this baby, if it meant Deacon would be dead and I'd be tied to Tony for the rest of my life, then I might as well be dead. There was no way I coud live with Tony and without Deacon. I wouldn't.
And you better bet, I was going to fight like hell to make sure none of that happened.
DEACON
I was at a gas station outside the city, debating with myself about what my next move should be. I hadn't heard from Emelia since that first phone call, and I wasn't sure if I should call her back or not. I didn't want her to get in trouble, and I sure as hell didn't want for us to be discovered – who knew what kind of danger that would put her in if her father found out I was calling.
I knew where the Antonelli's lived, that wasn't the issue. But I also knew there was no way I could just stroll up to the front door and ask for Emelia. There was no way I was going to be able to just walk up in there and save the day – at least, now without at least a hundred armed guards drawing down on me. No, going up to the front doors was out of the question – it would only end with me in a body bag.
I stared at my phone, debating about whether or not I should call her. I knew that I had to worry about calling her because I feared that doing so would only be putting her in danger. Without knowing what was going on inside that house, I couldn't be sure what was happening – or what might happen. I couldn't be sure of anything honestly.
With no better options presenting themselves to me, I decided to reach out to an old friend – someone I'd trusted more than anyone else at one point in time. But he was part of the group that had led the coup that ousted me from my own Brotherhood. I didn't know how deeply involved with the group he was and I couldn't be certain if he was working with Colin and Sean's guys or not. I had to hope that despite everything that happened, when the chips were down, he would remain loyal to me.
And there was only one way to find out.
I looked at my phone and took a deep breath, letting it out as I dialed up his number and then waited for him to answer. As I listened to the ringing on the line, I realized that I was using a burner and he wouldn't have this phone number, so he might not answer. But I held out hope that I'd get lucky.
“Hey, who's this?” the voice said on the other end of the phone.
“Neil?” I said. “It's – ”
Before I could even say my name, he recognized my voice and when he spoke, I thought I heard something that sounded like relief in his voice.
“Deacon?” he asked. “Is that really you, man?”
“Yeah, it's me,” I said. “I'm sorry to call you like this – ”
“Listen, man, the others wouldn't be too happy if they knew you were calling me, but I'm just glad to hear you're alive. You planning on coming back and kicking a little ass? Going to take the big seat back?”
I cringed at the question he'd asked. At one time, the Brothers had been my entire life. I'd worked my ass off to get to the top of the heap. I'd battled to put myself in the big seat, to put myself in a position to make the calls and command their respect. I'd given my life to those guys and to the Brotherhood.
But after what went down – and now knowing about Emelia and the baby – I couldn't risk it. I couldn't risk getting back into the life. And suprisingly enough, I found I didn't want to get back into it. At one time, the life had appealed to me. Had sent a jolt of electricity through me. But now? Now, it was just something I'd done – a life filled with some things I'd done that I regretted. I didn't want to be part of that life anymore.
“Nah, man,” I said quietly. “I think the Brotherhood is probably better with somebody else in charge, you know? After all that went down, I don't think I can get back into the big seat. It wouldn't be the same and I'd always be wondering who was plotting to take me down next.”
“We miss you, brother,” he said. “At least some of us do, anyway. And we'd most definitely love to see you back in charge, man. These guys are dicks.”
“Not going to happen, Neil,” I said. “I don't see how it would even be possible, honestly. But that's not why I'm calling. That's a bridge we'll cross another time. No, what I need to know is whether or not you know anything about the Antonellis? I know Colin was working with the old man, didn't know if others were too, but – ”
“Yeah, we are,” Neil said. “Or rather, some of the guys are. I'm just going along with whatever to keep myself from getting killed. I didn't think you were alive or I'd have – ”
'”It's okay, I'm not blaming you for anything,” I said. “It's not your fault, man.”
Neil sounded surprised by how easily I let this betrayal go – but I knew it would help me in the end. Or at least, I hoped it would.
“In fact,” I went on, “if you have any intel on the Antonelli's, that would be incredibly helpful right now.”
“Intel? Like what?” Neil asked. “What are you plannin' Deacon?”
“It's hard to explain, and I doubt you'll understand it all anyway, Neil. And besides, the less you know is probably safer for you,” I said. “But what I need to know is whether you got anything about their household. Anything at all could help.”
“Honestly, I don't know much,” Neil said. “I'm not trusted with that kind of inside info, man. I'm barely hanging on over here, you know?”
“I know. I figured as much, but I wanted to ask anyway,” I said with a sigh.
As much as I appreciated Neil's loyalty, it would seem like he was not going to be of any use to me after all. At least, not in that moment – which meant it was probably best to keep on good terms with him.
“Thank you, Neil,” I said. “If you hear anything – ”
“Yeah, of course. No sweat, man,” he said. “But I gotta tell you, I hate working with these assholes. We have some fancy ball or shit at the house tomorrow night. Colin's tellin' everyone they have to go to this stupid shit and – ”
“Everyone?”
“Well at least within their network. Colin's saying it's a business event, of sorts,” he said. “I dunno, just that I have to wear a fancy tie and shit and I'm not looking forward to it in the least. But at least there's gonna be food catered in from some fancy restaurant, so it's not a total loss, I guess.”
“Sounds like fun,” I said sarcastically.
It actually sounded like the exact opposite of fun and something I never would have done in the big seat – I never would have climbed into bed with scum like Antonelli. Never in a million years. But I knew that with both Antonellis' men and the Irish there, it would be a well-guarded building. So at least I knew to avoid heading over there tomorrow night unless I wanted to get myself shot.
But as the thoughts swirled through my mind, an idea suddenly started to form. Admittedly, it wasn't the brightest or sanest of ideas, but it was an idea nonetheless – which was more than I had five minutes ago.
“So hey,” I asked. “What's being catered in? You know the name of the restaurant?”
“I dunno exactly. I guess Antonelli's aunt owns some restaurant downtown – I can't remember the name off hand,” he said. “Some family business, that's all I know. And it's supposed to be the best Italian food in Chicago, so hey – free food, right? That's a win.”
“Sounds good,” I said. “Anyway, I should run. But thanks again, man. I appreciate you talking to me.”
“Sorry I couldn't be of much help,” he said.
“Nah, you were great,” I said.
Neil thought he hadn't been of much help to me, but he really didn't have any idea how much he'd actually helped me out. Even though I trusted Neil and believed him when he'd said that he – and others – wanted to see me back in the big seat, I just couldn't trust him enough to let him in on the plan. When it came to Emelia, I couldn't really trust anybody. Wouldn't. Not when her life and her safety were on the line.
Thankfully though, he had never been the brightest guy in the group and didn't stop to ask questions others might have. Which worked for me. Because when we hung up, and I immediately Googled the family restaurant, trying to dig up the name.
And it didn't take long for the name to pop up. Domenicos. Perfect. I got the address and I was off to scope the place out and see what I could see. Because when tomorrow night rolled around, I was going to be ready.
I was getting into that house one way or another, even if it killed me. And I knew going in that the chances were good, it just might.
EMELIA
I clung to the bedspread that was covering me up and hiding away from my father, Tony, and the rest of the world. Staring up at the ceiling, I still couldn't believe I was back there, in the home I'd grown up in. It was beautiful and decadent, there was no question about it. But as luxurious as it was there, I'd take a cheap hotel that had a bed with a lumpy, uncomfortable mattress with Deacon any day over this. I wanted out. And I wanted out quickly. The problem was, I just wasn't sure how I would go about getting myself out.
Not knowing what else to do, I tried to turn my thoughts from my current predicament to something else. Anything. But as I laid there, my mind seemed to gravitate naturally toward Deacon. I missed laying next to his naked body, feeling the hard angles and planes of his body pressed to mine. I missed the way he touched me, the way he kissed me. I missed the scent of his body, the sound of his voice.
I yearned for him with such an intensity that my body ached with a need I feared may never be met again. Closing my eyes and feeling that familiar fire ignite between my thighs whenever I thought of him, I let my hand slide down lower on my body. I imagined Deacon hovering above me, kissing me deeply as he pressed himself against me and that fire low inside of me started to burn out of control.
I feared that I might never experience Decon sexually again – my fantasies might be all that I had left. As I touched myself, I imagined that it was him touching me – his fingers circling my clit, pressing against my opening. My body arched upward and I craved more. I needed more.
Reaching into my bedside table, I pulled out the vibrator I'd used countless times before Deacon came into my life. It was long and thick and meant to feel realistic – but there was absolutely nothing in this world that would ever feel the same as having his hard, thick, throbbing cock inside of me – I knew that now. Still, it would have to do.
Turning it on low, I massaged my clit as I imagined Deacon's tongue licking and savoring my pussy. He knew exactly how to make me cum in a matter of seconds using nothing but his tongue. I pressed it firmly against me, circling and teasing myself – but the vibrator wasn't getting me anywhere close. Not yet.
So, I shifted my thoughts to remembering the way he'd filled me up and stretched me open with his cock. And as my pussy grew hotter and wetter as the memories flooded my mind, I shoved the vibrator deep inside of me. I gasped, shuddering as I got used to the sensation. With my eyes closed, my back arched as I moved it in and out of me, I eventually got myself so lost in the fantasies, I could almost feel Deacon fucking me.
“Yes, yes,” I muttered, my head pushing back against my pillow.
I bit my lip so hard, trying to keep quiet, that I winced at the pain and tasted the blood trickled into my mouth. I buried the vibrator deep inside of my tight little pussy and arched my body upward, feeling the tightness in my belly as well as my pussy, and of course, warmth that always came before my climax.
“Deacon, oh God, Deacon...”
I shoved the fake dick inside of me again. And again. And again. As my vision filled with his face and I strained my senses, trying to feel himself fucking me, I pounded the vibrator into my pussy hard and faster. My back was arching upward as I finally reached the peak and then gave myself one good, hard thrust and sent myself over the top of it.
As the sensation of electricity running along my nerve endings rocketed through my body, I groaned and tried so hard to keep quiet. The last thing I needed was for my father to burst in here to see who I was fucking. Or worst yet, hear me calling out my lover's name – imaginary though he might be at the moment – as I came hard for him.
Deacon. Oh God, Deacon. I needed you so badly. I thought to myself. I need to feel you inside of me again and this vibrator just isn't cutting it.
As my orgasm slowly subsided, I slid the vibrator out of me – it was predictably, soaking wet and covered in my juices. I imagined Deacon would get a kick out of seeing like that – I even imagined that he enjoyed tasting me so much, he'd probably lick it clean.
I didn't know when – or if – I'd ever see him again. So, at least for the moment, all I had were the memories of my lover. They were comforting and sweet, and they'd help keep me content, helping me drift off to sleep. At least for the moment.
But as I lay there, alone in my bed, traces of my orgasm still tingling in my body and yet, still unsatisfied, I found myself wishing and hoping for the impossible – for Deacon to rescue me.
I wished and hoped that he'd save me, and not end up dead by my father's hand. I wished and hoped that we could run away to some exotic land where we could raise our child and live happily ever after.
But I was a big girl now, and I knew that happily ever afters only existed in fairy tales. So for now, my dreams would have to do. I would have to find solace and comfort in them. But as I thought about it, I wanted to cry, not knowing whether or not that was all I was going to have. Forever.
ooo000ooo
“You're doing what?” I asked my father. “I've only been home a day. Do we seriously have to rush things anymore than we already are?”
He shrugged. “I'm afraid there isn't much choice,” he said. “Tony is anxious to get this done.”
Get this done. Like I was a job or a business transaction that had to be checked off his to-do list. Hearing that my father was making things with Tony official though – announcing my engagement and the pending wedding date to that sick, old son of a bitch – made me sick to my stomach. I needed more time. A lot more time. Maybe like all the time.
While many little girls dream of the day they announce their engagement to the world – and I probably had too at one point – this wasn't what I had in mind. Not anywhere near what I would have imagined. I wanted to scream I wanted to cry. I thought about all those years I'd saved myself, not giving in to temptation every time a cute boy hit on me as a teen and into college – it wasn't so I could give it away to a disgusting creature like Tony.
“The sooner we get things settled with him, the better for everybody involved,” he said. “I'm not well, Emelia.”
My father looked at me and for a moment, I saw a flash of sadness in his eyes. At one time, when he talked about his death, I assumed he was sad about leaving me and wanted to make sure I was taken care of when he was gone. But now, with everything that had happened – and was happening – I realized he was only sad because his time left on this earth was drawing to an end, and he would no longer be able to run his organization. He would no longer be able to wield the power and control he once had – always had.
“You and Tony will continue the Antonelli legacy,” he said. “And I want – no, I need – to make sure you're taken care of before I die.”
“You're not going to die tomorrow, papa,” I said, rolling my eyes. “Doctors say you still have months to live. Maybe even years. They don't know for sure.”
“But I'm not the same man I was. I'm weak – and growing weaker by the day – and my enemies know it,” he said. “And that's why Deacon was able to kidnap my daughter the way he did. Because I'm weak. But Tony is not weak, Emelia. He's very strong. Very powerful. He will be able to protect you and keep you safe in a way I no longer can. And of course, he will make sure you're able to keep our family's proud legacy alive.”
“Sounds like you're more worried about your legacy than you are me,” I said, feeling my irritation growing.
I knew I shouldn't have said anything, but I did anyway. I was upset by the cavalier way my father talked about me needing protection – about making sure to safeguard and carry on our family's legacy. He didn't even seem to care about me – his daughter. I was nothing more than a poker chip that he could play to make sure he stayed in the game – long after he was gone.
Of course, my impudence and what I'd said earned me the very predictable and not entirely unexpected backhand across the face. I held my hand up to my stinging cheek, but rather than cry, I narrowed my eyes and gritted my teeth. I wouldn't give him the satisfaction. But that slap did more to encourage me to get the hell out of there, away from my father and the Antonelli name, than anything else he could have said or done. It reinforced my notion that I was nothing but a tradeable commodity to him – not that it needed much reinforcement.
“This family is everything to me, Emelia. Everything,” he said, his voice burning with a quiet intensity. “It's what I've worked so hard for. It's what I've bled for. It's what I've sacrificed everything for. You're one small part of it, yes, but only part of it. I have countless other people who depend on me – who will depend on you one day too, to keep things running smoothly. You would do very well to remember that, dear daughter. This family name – that you seem to so willingly scorn – is all that you have. And it can open many doors for you.”
“You mean depend on Tony. These other people you talk about will have to depend on Tony,” I said. “Because they wouldn't suffer having a woman in charge.”
My father could smack me again, it didn't matter. I didn't care anymore. No matter what he did, I was going to say my piece. He was going to hear me. I'd make sure of it. The pain of his hand hitting me was no match for the pain in my heart anyway. He'd hurt me too much for too long, and I wasn't about to hold back now. I was well beyond that point.
My father didn't say anything to that though. There was nothing to say. Nothing he could say. I was right and it was the God's honest truth. There was absolutely nothing he could say to dispute it and nothing I could do to change it. That's just how things were in the little empire he'd built. How things would always be.
“Why are you fighting me so hard on this, Emelia?” my dad asked. “Before the kidnapping, you were okay with all of this. You were happy with Tony. And you were willing to do sacrifice for this family. You were willing to do what needed to be done. And believe me when I say, it's going to happen sooner or later anyway. We might as well do it while I can still walk my baby girl down the aisle.”
He was wrong. I was never okay with any of it. Ever. But I'd along with it all because I saw no way out. Back then, I'd believed that I was stuck. Trapped. With no means or opportunity to escape.
But now, I saw that I had an opportunity to get out of the life. A way out from under this family, the name, and all of the bullshit it brought with it. And after I'd had a taste of it, there was no way I would go back to it. Not easily or willingly, at least.
And besides, my father didn't know about the baby growing inside of me. Deacon's baby. I already knew that there was no way Tony would raise another man's child – nor would I even give him the opportunity to. And there was no way in hell I was giving up my child or going to watch it be neglected or abused by a cretin like Tony.
“If only I was still your baby girl, father,” I said, smiling weakly. “I miss those days. The days when being your baby girl was enough. When I was enough. The days I actually thought you loved me.”
“I do love – ” he started to say, but I never heard him finish his statement.
By the time he'd started to speak, I'd already walked out. I didn't need to hear anymore of his pathetic lies or bullshit manipulations. If he truly loved me like he claimed to, what he was doing to me was one hell of a way to show it.
DEACON
Domenicos. Owned and operated by the Antonelli family since 1964. Nice place, all things considered, but not the type of place I'd ever be seen at. For good reason, obviously. It was old, traditional, and had a loyal clientele. But I didn't see anything overly special about it. Looking at it, I thought it looked like your typical Italian eatery.
It was supposed to be the best in Chicago. But somehow, I doubted that. I'd eaten in some fantastic Italian places and I doubted this place would measure up. But I wasn't about to test it out for myself.
No, I knew I couldn't afford be seen inside the joint, just in case someone recognized me. So, instead of going inside, I hung out back, watching the catering trucks loading up for the even out at Antonelli's place. Last night, I'd done the same thing from a safe distance. I'd watched to get a feel for the flow of things, see how they worked, what they did. And I also wanted to get a good look at the employees. Last night, I'd done the same thing, but tonight was different. Tonight, maybe they didn't realize it, but I was going to be tagging along with them to Antonelli's place.
There was one man, a large, pot-bellied Italian guy, who stood on the back dock and barked orders at the others. Several of the other workers did most of the heavy lifting while Boss Man was content to hurl insults at them and generally be an ass. Sounded about right based on what I knew about the Antonelli's. Boss Man went back inside, yelling that the driver should be ready to head out. Poor sap, he had no idea what was coming. If I didn't need to do what I was about to do, I'd feel bad for the guy. But I needed to get into Antonelli's, and this was my only ticket in.
Before he even saw me, I was on top of him. I used the baton I was carrying to hit him over the head – not badly enough to kill him, just bad enough to put him to sleep for a while. He was going to have a wicked headache when he woke up, but at least he was going to wake up. I quickly pulled his limp body behind the dumpster, stripped off his clothes and located the key to the truck in the pocket.
Now I looked like an employee of Domenicos. More or less. I pulled the hat down low over my face, trying to keep anybody from getting a good look at me. And then, with key in hand, I walked over to the truck, climbed in, and started it up.
As I rumbled away from the restaurant with my load of hot food, I thought that this had all been too easy. Not that I thought the entire mission would be that simple, but at least that part had gone off without a hitch. Made me feel like maybe luck was on my side and that I could get in, get Emelia, and get out again without too much of a problem.
Behind the wheel of the catering truck, I could just drive up and enter the premises, no questions asked. As long as no one recognized my face, I should be fine. At least, that's what I kept telling myself.
ooo000ooo
As expected, when I approached the gates, the guards just motioned me past without even giving me a second glance. Fools. I waved at them and they nodded back, not so much as looking at me as they carried on their conversation. I drove down the long, curved driveway until I saw the Antonelli mansion up ahead. I'd never personally seen it with my own eyes, so I was blown away by what I saw. It was as large as people had said it was, but it really was a beautiful, elegant home. It's just too bad it housed one of the biggest assholes on the planet.
As I pulled around the circular drive, I saw that there were at least a dozen men in dark suits – guards. And I had zero doubt believing that they were all armed. What worried me was that although I could see a dozen, I had a feeling there were just as many – if not more – I couldn't see. Getting in and out might not be nearly as easy as I'd hoped, but I'd find a way. I always did.
A guard motioned for me to stop the truck, so I complied. He walked up to the driver's side door, looking at me, and for a brief moment, I thought things were about to go sideways . I held my hand on my gun, well out of his sight – afraid that he might recognize me. The adrenaline was already coursing through my veins and my heart was hammering in my chest. I didn't want to fight right then and there, but I would if I had to.
“You're supposed to pull this piece of shit around back,” he said, pointing toward more driveway. “The kitchen is located back there. The staff will be back there to help you unload. Now, get going, you're running late already.”
Not wanting to speak – my accent was hard to hide – I simply nodded and did as I was told.
I pulled around back and shut the truck off. As I climbed from the truck, I unlocked the back where the food was, like I assumed a real employee would, and did my level best to act completely normal. A woman came up and started speaking to me in broken English, telling me – or at least, doing her best to tell me – where to take everything.
She was a tall, exotic looking woman and seemed a little to clean cut to be part of the kitchen staff. Plus, she wasn't wearing the uniform I saw some of the others buzzing around in, so I assumed she was probably in charge of the event. Probably a party planner or whatever it was they called those people who organized events like this.
Her phone rang and with an annoyed expression on her face, she walked inside with the phone pressed to her ear, yelling into the phone about something – but she was speaking Italian so I couln't understand a word she was saying. I just prayed it had nothing to do with the naked, unconscious driver I'd left behind the dumpster.
I knew I should have killed him and stashed his body somewhere it wouldn't be found, but Emelia had apparently made me soft. She'd started to dull the edge of what had made me so effective in the big seat of the Brotherhood. But the guy I'd clubbed was nothing more than a low-level catering employee. He was just a guy doing a job and was probably no relation to this God-awful family. Yet, he could be my undoing. Because I'd chosen to spare his life than do what needed to be done.
With a nervous knot in my stomach, I watched the woman on the phone carefully, looking for any sign that she knew I wasn't the real driver. And once she was inside the house, I stopped what I was doing and quickly rushed into the kitchen, a tray full of pasta in my hands. I pretended to be looking for somewhere to put it as I walked into the dining room, all the while keeping an eye on her – and an ear out for the sound of Antonelli's men approaching. My body was tense and the gun under my shirt pressed into my skin reassuringly as I watched and waited, ready for a fight if it came to that.
As I walked into the kitchen and saw the dining area beyond, my eyes grew wide when I saw the number of people in attendance. All of them dangerous. All of them powerful. And almost all of them would recognize me in a heartbeat.
Keep your head down, Deacon, I said to myself as I pushed my way through the crowd. I tried to keep an eye out for Emelia, but that was easier said than done. There were so many people that I could have walked right by and not been able to see her in the crowd.
“Over there!” The woman from earlier shouted. “Where are you going, idiot.”
She grabbed my shoulder and yanked me over to the buffet table. Her eyes were narrowed, her nostrils flared, and the pinched, sour expression on her face made her look like she'd just sucked on a lemon. Yeah, I bet she was a real peach to work for.
“The food goes here,” she said. “Were you not paying attention to what I said? Are you a moron or something?”
Having her in my face berating me was pissing me off and I wanted to get right back in her face. But I held myself in check. The last thing I needed was to cause a scene and draw unncessary attention to myself. The woman was annoying as hell, but at least I knew they hadn't found the other driver yet.
She walked away, and I heard her say, “Mr. Antonelli, the food is arriving, do you want to make your announcement soon?”
I turned, following the sound of her voice and I saw old man Antonelli standing next to Tony. They both looked incredibly pleased with themselves as they stood there like best friends, with a glasses of wine in hand. I quickly looked away and pulled my hat a little lower, focusing my attention on the pasta I was sitting out on the buffet table. It was at that moment, somebody walked up and stood next to me.
“Excuse me,” they said, and I turned without thinking, finding myself face-to-face Neil.
Neil's eyes grew wide – as did my own – and I hissed, “Be quiet.”
“Deacon, it's – how did – ”
“Be quiet,” I said again, looking around to see if anyone was watching. “Have you seen Emelia?”
“She hasn't come down yet. Rumor has it, she's pissed off and is refusing,” Neil whispered, trying not to draw attention to himself as he spoke under his breath.
“So she's in her room?” I asked. “Do you know where that is?”
“Do I look like the type of person who knows where Emelia Antonelli's room is?”
Good point. I gave him a shrug and a weak smile.
“Now Neil, just walk away from me, okay? Just turn and leave, you hear me?” I said. “Don't you dare say a word about this to anyone. Nobody can know I'm here. Nobody, man. And I have a gun if things go south – I'll shoot my way out if needs be. But if things are cool, I'll slink out of here with Emelia and everything will be just fine. Got it?”
He nodded, but he was as pale as a ghost. “Yeah, sure. Got it.”
“Can I trust you?”
“Yes, Deacon,” he said. “You can trust me. Always.”
“Good boy,” I said, patting him on the shoulder.
As he turned and left, I knew it would be hard for Neil to stay quiet. He'd undoubtedly want to tell some of the Brohters I was there – the ones he perhaps mistakenly believed remained loyal to me. But I couldn't afford for him to breathe a word. I was left to hope and pray that he would remain quiet about my presence there.
“Attention everyone,” Antonelli intoned, his voice raised to be heard above the crowd as he clinked his glass. “My daughter, the beautiful Emelia, might be under the weather this evening, but I know she appreciates each and every one of you for attending tonight. So, thank you one and all for being here.”
Yeah, I'm sure she really appreciates everybody being there on such a joyous occasion, I thought to myself. Given the old man's announcement I had to wonder if that meant she wasn't planning on coming down at all. If that were the case, slipping upstairs and finding her room could be a piece of cake.
I'd just started to get my hopes up for a quick, quiet exit, when the old man answered my question.
“My beautiful daughter will be making an appearance shortly,” he said, “but for now, the appetizers should be coming out shortly, so please, help yourself.”
Appetizers. A bolt of adrenaline shot through me as I realized that was on me – the food was my responsibility. As the crowd turned toward the buffet table, I quickly turned away, rushing off to the kitchen with my head down. I didn't hear any raised voices or anybody calling my name, so I breathed a sigh of relief, thinking that nobody had seen me.
“Where are the appetizers?” the woman – looking even angrier than before – demanded the moment I stepped into the kitchen.
I had to admit, I wanted to punch her in her fucking face right then and there and be done with her. Ordinarily, I would never let anybody talk to me like that. But this wasn't an ordinary situation and I had to just eat shit and feign a smile.
“They should have gone out before the pasta, you idiot,” she railed at me. “You have one job, moron. Seriously, one fucking job. And you can't even seem to get that right. Where are the others?”
That was a question I couldn't answer, so I just shrugged, content to let her figure it out on her own.
“Can't speak? Cat got your tongue?” she asked, her eyes growing even narrower, her face even more pinched. “My, they really are scraping the bottom of the barrel for decent help over there, aren't they?”
She picked up her phone and called someone and I heard her asking where the rest of the help was at. I walked back outside and looked over the trays until I found one label “apps.”
Grabbing it, I turned and looked up at the house, staring at the windows, trying to discern which room might be Emelia's. There was deck on the second floor that I thought could be Emelia's room. Maybe. There was a window that was partially open, and through it, I heard music. As I stared at it, I started to wonder – could that be it? There was a light on inside the room as well, meaning someone was in there. But there was no way to see if it was really her room or not.
“Hurry up, idiot!” The woman yelled from the kitchen door.
I resisted the urge to throw the food down and knock her out because I had to keep up the charade. I had to keep this act going until I got to Emelia. But if I had my way, one day, all of these crooked assholes would pay. And pay dearly for how they not only treated me, but for how they treated Emelia as well. And I would have my way. Every single one of these pricks was going to pay a price.
Emmy, I'm coming for you, I thought to myself as I carried the tray of food inside.
Deacon
Scowling, I put the appetizers down on the table and still saw no sign of Emelia. After tossing the food down, I slipped off to the side of the crowd, slowly but surely making my way to the hallway – and out of that room. There was nothing good for me in there. But I had to make my movements look natural and do everything I could to avoid drawing attention to myself.
But just as I slipped off into the hallway, I ran smack dab into one of Antonelli's men. Because of course, I did. If not for bad luck, I wouldn't have any luck at all.
“Where the fuck do you think you're going?” he said, his expression one of annoyance.
“I'm looking for a bathroom,” I said, trying to hide my Irish accent as much as possible. “I gotta take a piss.”
The man tilted his head to the side, trying to get a good look at my face, but I stared down at the ground, trying to look deferential instead of like I was hiding something.
“You a Brit or something?” he asked.
“Yes, sir,” I said, my heart racing and my body tensing – it was entirely possible I was going to have to take this guy out if he didn't buy my act.
I was hoping this idiot couldn't tell the difference between a British accent and an Irish one. And I had to hope that he wouldn't mention our little encounter to anyone else. I sure was pinning a lot of my plans – not to mention, my life – on hopes and wishes.
He laughed, shaking his head, and said, “Bathroom is down on the left, boy. But don't let old man Antonelli catch you slacking off down there. He'll have your head.”
“Yes, sir,” I said again, biting any and all rage I had inside of me. “I'll get right back to work when I'm done.”
I hated being treated like a servant, like a piece of trash beneath even Antonelli's hired thugs. I could tolerate a lot of things in life, but disrespect was not one of them. But I had to check myself, suck it all down, and deal with it. For now. Because there was a bigger picture at stake – Emelia's life. And I couldn't risk letting my pride get in the way of saving Emmy.
The man walked away, not even bothering to look back at me. I was just another lowly working stiff not even worthy of his contempt, apparently. I walked slowly down the hallway toward the bathroom, and started to step inside. But then looked back behind me to see if the guard was still down there. But the hallway was empty now.
A little further down the hall was a staircase that led upstairs. I had a good feeling that Emmy's bedroom was up there. And I was thinking that it was probably the one with the lights on and the music playing loudly inside. Sounded like something she'd do – turn her music up loud enough to block out the sounds of everyone else downstairs. She was a defiant one, that was for certain, and was one of the biggest things that I admired about her. I loved her spirit and her spunk.
I kept my eyes peeled for more guards and slipped up the stairs as fast as I could, my hand on my gun just in case I ran into somebody watching the top. But as I stepped onto the second floor landing and looked around, I was relieved to find that it was empty. Everyone was apparently, downstairs. Thankfully so.
I slipped down the hallway toward the sound of music that was echoing around the corridor. It was a beautiful song, but not one I recognized. As I reached the doorway, I had footsteps – and voices – coming from the staircase behind me. Glancing around, I saw that there was another bathroom just down the hall from the room. Rushing to the open door, I quickly slipped inside and closed it enough that I could still see out through the crack. I just prayed they weren't coming upstairs to use the bathroom because the downstairs bathroom was occupied. That could be disastrous.
My jaw tightened and my eyes narrowed almost reflexively when I saw that it was old man Antonelli in the hallway. He was talking, softly, to someone. I couldn't make out who it was though. But then he knocked on the door loud enough to be heard over the music coming from inside.
“Emelia?” he called out. “Are you getting dressed?”
No answer from inside the room. But at least I knew I was at the right door, I just needed them to leave so I could get inside, grab Emelia, and get the hell out of there.
“You better get your dress on,” Antonelli said. “Everyone is waiting for you. It's very poor form to keep them waiting much longer.”
Again, no answer from inside the room – just the music.
“She'll come down eventually,” Antonelli said to whoever it was.
“You sure about that?” the voice asked.
It was the Italian woman from the kitchen who'd been barking orders at me earlier. The fact that Antonelli was talking to her like he was made me think that maybe she was more than just a party planner. But I had no idea who she was or what her part in this whole fiasco was.
“Even if she doesn't, the party will go on without her,” he said. “One way or another, the engagement will be announced along with the wedding date. If she chooses to not be part of the announcement party, so be it. It's not like she is going to have much of a choice when it comes to attending the wedding.”
I closed my eyes and felt my jaw clench tight as I listened to them talking about marrying my girl off to some scumbag. A scumbag I knew she wanted no part of. But I focused on the big picture, kepe my cool, and remained hidden, silently reminding myself to say calm and in control. I was this close to getting her out of there. We were that close to having the freedom to build our life together. All I needed was for the two assholes in the hallway to leave.
Their sudden silence made me open my eyes and look out into the hallway. They were gone. No footsteps, no more voices. Nothing but the beautiful music coming from Emelia's room. I opened the bathroom door and carefully looked up and down the hallway before stepping out of my hiding spot. I gingerly moved back down the hall and when I stood in front of her door, I knocked quietly. At first, I wasn't sure if she heard me, so I knocked again – a little louder the second time.
“Go away. I'm not coming down,” her voice called out. “Leave me the hell alone.”
As quietly as I could muster and still be heard, I said, “Emmy, it's me. Deacon – ”
I wasn't even finished with my sentence before the door flew inward and Emelia pulled me into her room, slamming the door behind us and kissing me like I had never been kissed before. It was a little breathtaking and dizzying, but it felt so good. So right. And I wanted that moment to last forever.
But it couldn't. We needed to get out of there. But I contented myself with the knowledge that we would have a lifetime together to make even more moments just like that. I broke our kiss and holding onto her arms, took a step back and smiled at her. Damn, it was good to see her.
“You stupid, stupid man – ” she said, but she was smiling.
“What a nice way to greet the man you love,” I teased. “Especially after he risked his life to save you.”
“Deacon, God, I'm so happy to see you, but you were so stupid to come tonight. Of all nights!” she said. “Did you see who's down there? We've got a house full of people who want to kill you. You do realize that, don't you?”
“I did. I know. Trust me. Got a good look at all of 'em, Emmy,” I said. “But there was no way in hell I was going to let you spend one more night here. There was no way in hell I wasn't coming for you. You had to know that.”
“You couldn't spend one more night away from me, you mean,” she grinned. “It's okay to admit it.”
“That too,” I said.
“So what's the plan now?” she asked, running a hand down the front of my body, the expression on her face one of awe, like she couldn't believe I was actually standing there in front of her. “We can't really walk out there together, not like this. If anybody sees you, they're going to cut your head off, Deacon.”
“I hadn't really thought through all of that just yet. I figured we'd jump off that bridge when we got to it,” I said. “But, now that we're here, you have any brilliant ideas?”
Emelia nodded, but bit her lip. “It's risky and we'll have to be patient, but I think it might be better to wait until the party is over. My father will be drunk – so will many of his men – and we might actually be able to sneak past the guards.”
I looked to the patio door, but Emelia read my mind.
“All sealed up, I'm afraid,” she said. “We're locked in.”
“Sealed up?” I asked, not sure if I heard her right.
“Yep. I'm a prisoner in my own home. Charming, don't you think?” She was still holding onto me, and in that moment, she turned and smiled, placing her head on my chest. “I'm so glad you're here, Deacon. I was afraid – ”
“I'm going to get you out of this,” I said. “Don't worry.”
“I know you will,” she smiled softly. “I never doubted it for a moment.”
My heart raced as I looked into her eyes. This girl – she was quickly becoming my everything. Losing my brothers – or most of them at least – would have torn me apart before. I would have been lost. Adrift. Completely rudderless. But now, with Emelia in my life, things were different. For the first time in my life, I could see myself in a world without my brothers. Without the life. I could actually see myself running away, starting fresh, and getting out of this life altogether.
“Where do you want to go, Emmy?” I asked softly. “When we're out of here, I mean? The worlds is open to us, so where do you want to go?”
She looked up at me again and a smile spread across that beautiful face. “Argentina,” she said firmly. “I hear Buenos Aires is a gorgeous city, and we could totally get lost in the crowds there.”
“Sounds wonderful,” I whispered. “Anywhere you want to go, sweetie. Just say the word and I will whisk you away. I would be happy anywhere, so long as I'm with you. ”
Emelia stood on her tiptoes and planted a kiss on my lips. As she did so, her hands worked at the buttons of my pants.
“Hey there – ” I said, my voice nervous as I glanced toward the door.
“It's locked,” she said. “From the inside. Dead bolt at the top. No one is getting in without my permission.”
“But what if your father comes back up?” I asked. “If your other door is sealed shut, how am I supposed to get out?”
She shrugged. “Well then, I guess we'll have to be quiet,” she said. “Besides, don't you like living life on the edge?”
She shot me a mischievous grin, and I couldn't deny the idea of making love to her in her own house – with her father downstairs, no less – wasn't an incredible turn-on.
She had deftly removed my pants and they slid down to the floor, pooling around my ankles.
“Besides, we have a few hours to burn, why not make the most of it?” she teased.
I smiled wide. She obviously enjoyed this little bit of danger as much as I did. I think for her, the whole idea of having sex with her father's enemy in her home, while her so-called engagement party went on downstairs, was just too hot and too tempting to pass up.
Emelia dropped to her knees while looking up at me, a salacious little smile on her lips. Her dark hair contrasted with her pale features so beautifully that it nearly took my breath away. And when she took my cock between her lips, my knees literally went weak. My breath caught in my throat and I had to make a concerted effort to not let my legs buckle right there in front of her.
“You drive me absolutely crazy, you know that?” I said.
But she couldn't respond. Not with her mouth filled up with my cock and all. She moved up and down on my shaft, licking and sucking me like I was a lollipop, all while looking up at me with the sexiest look in her eyes. I groaned as the sensations from her working on me with her mouth and her hands at the same time made my skin feel like it was on fire.
I ran my hands through her long hair, but resisted pushing her mouth further down on me. She was doing a hell of a job of sucking me off as it was, and I didn't want to shoot my load that quickly. Not even if the idea of coming in her mouth and all over her face turned me on so fucking bad – which it did. Very much so, in fact. But I wanted to enjoy her. Every last bit of her.
Emelia's hand moved up and down my cock along with her mouth, while she used the other to play with my balls.
“Fuck,” I said, squeezing my eyes shut and enjoying the sensation.
I was enjoying having my cock in her mouth a bit too much, because I felt myself coming ever so close to orgasm and needed her to stop. I didn't want her to stop, but I needed her to.
“Stop, Emelia. I'm going to come...”
“Then come for me, baby,” she said, taking my cock out of her mouth long enough to speak. “Let me taste your cum.”
“But I want to – ”
She smiled, tightened her grip on my cock, and went back to sucking me.
“I want to – ”
I couldn't form a coherent sentence, not with her mouth on my dick and her hand on my balls. I was seriously going to lose control while she sucked and jerked me, and I didn't like to lose control. As much as I wanted to shoot my seed down her tiny little throat, I needed to be inside of her. I needed to make her come too. Not just wanted. Needed.
So I lifted her up, forcing her to pull those sweet lips from my erection, and pushed her down on the bed. She smiled, staring up at me with such need. I quickly removed her clothes so she was lying naked before me, as sexy as ever against her burgundy velvet bedding.
She was so beautiful.
And I needed to fuck her.
I was going to fuck her.
EMELIA
Deacon's cock was wet with my saliva, and soon, it was going to be wet with my juices. I pulled him down on top of me, his shirt still on, and wrapped my legs tightly around his waist. With one hand, I grabbed his stiff dick and guided him toward my opening, suddenly desperate in my need to feel him filling me up. But Deacon hesitated, just pressing against me without entering. He smiled down at me, a playful look in his eyes.
I thrust my hips upward, “Please, Deacon. Please,” I begged. “I need to feel you in me.”
My pussy was aching with need. I missed feeling his cock inside of me so fucking much and needed him to fill me up. I needed every inch of him inside of me like I needed air or water to live. Deacon held my face in his hand, forcing me to look into his beautiful blue eyes. He gave me a small, slow grin as he thrust hard with his hips and buried himself deep inside me, drawing a gasp of surprise, mixed with a touch of pain and one hell of a lot of pleasure, from my lips.
The look on his face was one of pure bliss as he spread me open. We both let out groans of pleasure as our bodies got used to being together like this again. Though it hadn't been all that long, it still felt like the first time – something I hope never, ever changed about our lovemaking.
Deacon started slowly, rocking back and forth on top of me, kissing me as he fucked me.
I ran my hands up and down his back, scratching gently as he moved in and out of me. My legs wrapped tighter around his waist so that every time he pulled out, mybody lifted up with his. I moved with him, our bodies in perfect rhythm, perfect harmony, making each thrust go deeper and deeper.
“Yes, baby, yes,” I said, feeling that familiar warmth spread throughout my entire body.
Everything Deacon was doing felt amazing and I let him have complete control of my body, encouraging him to do whatever he pleased. But just as I felt myself reaching the peak, Deacon surprised me, flipping us over so I was on top – all while his cock remained buried deep inside of me.
Now on top, I sat up and looked down at him as Deacon cupped my breasts, staring at me like I was the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen. Just the way he looked at me made me grow even wetter, the fire between my thighs burning out of control.
With a look of absolute hunger in his eyes, he played with my nipples, making me gasp as he pinched them, while I ground against him, my clit rubbing against his pelvic bone, making me shudder and moan with absolute pleasure.
Being on top gave me complete control and within minutes, I climaxed – my entire body bucking wildly as the spasms of my orgasm tore through my body. Deacon held onto me, moving my wildly shuddering body up and down on his cock as I called out his name over and over again.
“Deacon, yes, Deacon – Oh God...”
Thankfully, the music was loud – as I hoped the crowd downstairs was as well – so it was hopefully drowning out all my cries of pleasure as I came hard, my pussy tightening around Deacon's dick like a clenched fist. Deacon's eyes were rolling into the back of his head as I kept fucking him. His body was tense and he seemed to be close to losing it too – but he was fighting to prolong our lovemaking. Oh God, he was fighting so hard, and as much as I wanted us to keep going all night, I also wanted him to orgasm with me. I wanted him to feel every bit as amazing as I did.
Squeezing my muscles down tight around him, I stared deep into his eyes and begged him, “Come for me baby. Please – fill me with your hot cum. I want it. I need it.”
And just like that, with my dirty talk ringing in his ears, he grabbed onto my hips, his fingers digging into my flesh, and thrust himself upward. He was buried deeper inside of me than he had ever been and he cried out as his body shuddered.
“Emelia, fuck baby, I'm coming... ”
And as his body throbbed and pulsed beneath me, he filled me with his cock and with an animalistic grunt, he shot his seed deep inside my pussy. I gasped wildly and came again as I watched the look of pleasure fill his eyes. We rocked back and forth together, savoring the feeling of our bodies coming together, until the very last wave of intense sensation washed over us.
I collapsed on top of him, and he held me close. I could hear his heart beating fast, and we both struggled to regain our breathing.
“God, I love you, Emelia,” he said, pushing my sweat-drenched hair from my face so he could look at me. “I love you so fucking much.”
“I love you too, Deacon,” I said, smiling wide.
I pulled myself off his cock, his juices running down my thighs, as I laid down beside him. Curled up next to him, I could almost let myself forget where we were. I could almost pretend we were somewhere else. Somewhere beautiful. I could almost pretend that we were in our own little world – just me and Deacon. But one look at the walls around me reminded me where we were and shattered that little fantasy.
As I stared into the eyes of the man I loved, I couldn't wait until I was free from my father. My family name. Free from the prison I was being confined in to live my life out with the man I loved – the father of my growing child.
ooo000ooo
We dozed, on and off, in my bed until the party downstairs started to grow quiet. My father tried one more time to get me to come down to greet his guests, but I just continued to ignore him. He left, after screaming at me through the door that I was a disgrace, that I was dishonoring my family name, and shouted that whether I liked it or not, I was going to marry Tony.
It was easy to ignore him and laugh it off, because in the end though, he joke was going ot be on him.
I looked at Deacon and stifled my laughter as my dad threatened me a million different ways. Deacon looked upset, like he wanted to murder someone – like my father – but I held him close and told him that soon, we'd be out of there. I soothed him by saying that soon enough, we'd be free.
Eventually, everything downstairs grew silent. The party was over and it was time to go. And as we prepared to leave, Deacon handed me a gun. I stared down at it then back at him.
“Just in case,” he said with a wink.
I nodded. I knew we might run into a guard or some drunk asshole looking for a fight. Maybe even both. I took the gun, figuring that it was better to be safe than sorry.
Deacon stepped into the hallway first, looking both ways to make sure it was clear, even though I told him it would be better if I did. Just in case. But he refused to let me go out first, fearing that there was danger lurking in the corridor outside my room. He looked carefully, listened even more carefully, and made sure it was clear. When he was satisfied that it was, he motioned for me to follow him out.
We just needed to get to the bottom of the stairs and if all was clear there, then we could slip out the back. Deacon said he had driven a truck to my father's house – and that was what we were planning on escaping in. We just had to hope that the restaurant didn't have someone else drive it back or else we'd be hoofing it on foot. And if that was the case, it meant a long walk from my dad's property to the main road, and eventually back into town.
But no matter how far we had to walk or how long it took, it didn't matter to me. Every single step away from my father's house – and my father's life – was a step closer to living my own life. With Deacon. And our child. A step closer to a life filled with happiness and love.
We made it down the stairs and got to the end of the hallway just fine. We paused, listening and waiting before we continued down the stairs. For a moment, I thought this was going to be easy and I felt my heart filling with hope. Freedom was close at hand.
But no, I couldn't have been more wrong about that.
Coming up the stairs, at the same time we were coming down, was one of my dad's guards. A man named Gerardo. He stopped, a puzzled expression on his face. He looked at me first, then over to Deacon. It took a moment, but I saw the alarm begin to spread across his face as he comprehended what was happening. But before he could raise his gun, Deacon was on him. Gunshots could potentially wake up my father – and anybody else in the house – so we needed to keep it as quiet as possible. Not that the sound of an all out brawl was quiet, but it was better than gunfire.
I watched Deacon struggling with the man and wasn't sure what we were going to do. He seemed to be getting the upper hand, maneuvering himself around behind Gerardo and putting him in a headlock. The guard grunted and looked pained, but he kept struggling, kept fighting, uselessly batting at Deacon's arms with his fists.
“Look away, Emelia,” Deacon whispered, his voice strained with the effort.
I quickly did as I was told – not that it helped much. The cracking sounds I heard as Deacon broke the man's neck would forever be ingrained into my skull. Slightly winded, Deacon dropped the man's lifeless body onto the stairs, Gerardo's head was bent at an impossible angle and his eyes were glassy and fixed on a point far beyond the house. Deacon took my hand, trying to snap me out of it. I pulled my gaze away from the body and looked at him, feeling my stomach churning.
“I'm sorry – ” he said.
I shook my head. This was no time to get squeamish. I knew that getting out of the house and away from my father wasn't going to be easy – and figured it wasn't going to be pretty either. I knew the possibility existed that people were going to die. But it was easier to grasp when it was an abstract concept – seeing an actual body was a whole different ballgame.
But I had to be a big girl. I had to suck it up. If I wanted out of this life and away from my father, if I wanted to go away somewhere and build my life with Deacon, I had to simply get over it and push forward.
“It had to be done,” I said, trying not to look at the guard.
I couldn't think of him as Gerardo, not anymore. He was dead. He was gone. He was but a faceless stranger to me now. An enemy that stood in the way of my freedom. We'd done what had to be done.
Deacon and I continued down the stairs, and he looked ahead of us, searching for the threats that lay between us and the back door. When it was clear, he motioned for me to follow him down the hallway again. We walked quickly but quietly toward the ballroom and all remained silent. The further we got from the stairs – and the closer we got to the back door – had me feeling good about our chances of slipping out of this prison once more.
The big, heavy doors that led out the back were closed, which meant we couldn't see outside. And I knew from experience that they made a thunderous sound when someone pulled them open. Getting out meant we were going to make some noise. But we had no choice. If we wanted to earn our freedom, we were going to have to roll the dice.
Deacon looked at me, and I nodded, taking a deep breath. I was ready – gun in my hand and at the ready if needed. And judging by the set to his jaw and the look in his eye, he was as ready as I was.
Taking a deep breath, he pulled open the big, heavy doors. They squealed as mightily as I knew they would, making me wince.
But as soon as he had the doors open, and the cool night air was flowing past us, we found ourselves face-to-face with Tony and three other men. All of them Irish. All of them, his former brothers.
EMELIA
“Deacon, old pal, lovely to see you, lad,” one of the Irishmen said. “What do you think you're doin' here? And where are ya goin' with the lassie?”
Deacon didn't answer. He stared hard at the gathered men and I could see that he was formulating his plan in his head. He looked at me, trying to tell me something with his eyes – something I wasn't getting. I'd never been in a situation like this before and had no idea what I was doing.
But I knew that if we were going to go down, I was going to go down fighting. I wouldn't be dragged back into that life again. Not when I had all I wanted in the world standing beside me.
When Deacon moved, it was smoothly and it was quickly. Before anybody had even registered what he was doing – let alone react to it – he'd raised his arm and squeezed off a shot. The bullet tore through the man who'd just spoken, a fount of blood spraying from the wound in his shoulder. The Irishman squealed in pain and dropped to the ground, clutching his wounded arm. It was a non-lethal hit – I had to give him credit for that.
But with three others in front of us – and raising their weapons – playtime was over. It was time to shoot to kill.
Tony took several steps toward me just as the other two Irishmen moved on Deacon. I raised my arm and held my gun steady on Tony. He glared at me, shaking with rage, his face dark and his eyes filled with the promise of a painful retribution.
“Don't make me do this,” I said, my hands shaking.
More gunshots and men screaming rang out, shattering the stillness of the night air, but I couldn't look away from Tony. I was afraid that if I allowed my attention to be diverted, he'd move on me and I wouldn't be able to stop him. I had little doubt that Tony would kill me for what I was doing – so there was no way I was going to give him the chance.
No, my gaze remained on Tony, and only Tony, as he walked toward me, his face growing ever darker with each step.
“You wouldn't shoot me, princess,” he said. “You're a lot of things – like an ungrateful little bitch for starters – but you're not a killer. You don't have it in you. I can see the fear in your eyes.”
“Don't call her princess,” Deacon said as he stepped up beside me. “And you should apologize for calling her a bitch, while you're at it.”
I cracked a smile. He remembered how I felt about terms of endearment like that. It was patronizing and condescending, and when someone like Tony used them, it filled me with a deep, abiding anger. I could deal with a lot of things, but being patronized or condescended to were things I couldn't deal with. Wouldn't deal with. From anybody.
I considered taking a play from Deacon's book and aiming for the shoulder as I squeezed off a shot – mostly just to prove to the old son of a bitch that I could indeed pull the trigger. But Tony lunged toward me suddenly and I shot on reflex. The noise the gun made as it went off sounded like a cannon and the shockwave from the recoil reverberated all the way up my arm and into my shoulder. It had a kick stronger than I'd anticipated.
Because it had all happened so fast, Deacon hadn't even reacted in time and I'd been unable to focus on where I was shooting. I didn't have the time to aim as Tony lunged for me. His body collided with mine, knocking me to the ground, and driving the air from my lungs. I screamed as his body pinned mine to the ground. It took me a moment to realize Tony wasn't moving. And until Deacon reached down and pulled the old man off of me, I hadn't even realized where the bullet I'd fired had hit.
Right smack dab in the middle of his chest. His blood was pouring all over me and when he looked into my eyes, I saw pain blended with hate radiating within them. If he'd had the strength, he would have strangled me right then and there.
Tony, while not dead, was going to be soon. If he didn't get help, anyway. But I got the feeling that nobody at my father's house was going to go out of their way for him. I didn't think that anybody would be calling an ambulance – at least, not for a little while.
Deacon hauled me to my feet and I looked down at myself – grimacing at the sight of Tony's blood covering me. I looked up and saw that of the three who'd been standing with Tony, only one of the Irishmen remained. I didn't know why he was still alive, but he was just standing there, looking back at us. He wasn't holding a weapon and he didn't look threatening.
I didn't understand what was happening, but Deacon kept his gun trained on him. The other man though, held his hands up and didn't make any overtly threatening gestures. Simply judging by his body language, I didn't think he was going to be a problem for us – the look on his face told me that he respected Deacon. Liked him.
“Neil, let us past,” Deacon said. “Please. I don't want to hurt you. That's the last thing I want, brother.”
“Your truck is gone, man,” the man named Neil replied. “How are you going to get out of here?”
“We'll find a way,” Deacon replied. “Don't make me shoot you too. You know I don't want to do it, but I will if I have to.”
“You wouldn't – ” But Neil must have seen the look in Deacon's eyes because he stopped talking and looked down at the ground. “I'm sorry it's come to this, brother. I never wanted this. I really didn't.”
“I didn't want it to come to this either, man,” Deacon said. “Trust me on that, Neil. I didn't want this either. I just wanted something – different.”
“Here!” Neil said, tossing something over to him.
Deacon stared down at what was in his hand for a moment before looking back at his friend, a questioning look upon his face. He held up the keyring to me and dropped it into my hand.
“It's one of your cars anyway,” Neil said and smiled. “Figured you might like it back. Should help you get where you're going.”
Deacon thanked Neil and we rushed from the back of the house and toward a car parked out front. Climbing inside quickly, we drove off as fast as humanly possible, leaving my father and my former life behind. For good.
Reaching out, I took Deacon's hand in mine. Things might not be easy from here on out. We were alone and we would struggle. But we had each other, and soon enough, we'd have a child. Maybe several more. Life was already beginning to look up.
“Buenos Aires, here we come, baby,” Deacon said, winking at me.
I smiled as I looked back at him. I was free. For the first time in my life, I was free.
THE END