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Rub Me the Right Way by Amy Brent (115)

EMELIA

 

Deacon and I spent a few more days in that cabin, and after we'd found a way to occupy ourselves, I really didn't care if we ever went back to the city. I knew it was wrong. I shouldn't be sleeping with the enemy. And I knew that I should go back to my family, but my father was the one who'd used me as property – essentially trading me as part of a business deal.

At least with Deacon, I knew what he was about. He'd been straight forward with me from the start. No, he wasn't a good guy, but he also treated me better than any man I'd ever met. He was considerate and in his way, kind. And that surprised me. It surprised me quite a lot, actually. Deacon never stopped surprising me.

“So have you heard from my father recently?” I asked him, staring over at him beside me in bed.

“Colin said they were talking yesterday,” he replied. “Said they were making plans for the deed to be done.”

“You mean Tony's murder?” I asked, cringing as I said it.

“Yes, if that's what you prefer to call it, then yes. Tony's murder.”

“And you honestly think my father is going to go through with this?” I asked. “That he's not going to weasel his way out of it somehow?”

Deacon shrugged and rolled over, pulling me closer. Neither one of us were wearing much clothing and I reveled in the sensation of his warm skin pressed to mine.

“You're his precious daughter. He'd do anything for you.”

I bit my lip and held back the harsh words I had for my father. I didn't think it was appropriate and tried to rein it in, but Deacon could see that something was bothering me. He stared at me with soulful, inquiring eyes.

“Or am I wrong about that?” he asked.

“I don't know, it's just – I feel like I'm only important to him as a bargaining chip these days. As a piece to be included in some business transaction. And if Tony is dead, I'm no good to him anyway, so maybe he'll find an alternative way to keep the deal on the table.”

“You really think your father cares so little for you?”

I shrugged, looking at the wall instead of Deacon. A complex mix of emotions churned within me. Yes, I thought he loved me. But I also thought he loved the fact that I could enhance his wealth and prestige even more.

“What am I supposed to think, Deacon? I was given away to Tony Bellini like – like some object, some commodity,” I said.

For the first time, my true anger started to come out and a rage that was dark and abiding began to bubble to the surface as I let it all out.

“I'm just not sure I – as a person – really matter to my father,” I went on. “Or to anyone for that matter. Which is honestly, why I'm not in any hurry to go back. You notice that I haven't tried to escape, haven't you? I haven't because I haven't felt that my life is in danger. At least here, I don't have Tony's filthy hands trying to grope me against my will.”

Deacon kissed me, long and hard, taking my breath away once again. When he pulled back, he looked me in the eye and opened his mouth as if to say something, but then closed it again. He looked confused, almost surprised by what he was going to say.

“What?” I asked.

“Nothing,” he mumbled.

“No, it's not nothing. You wanted to say something. What was it?”

“Just that – well, just that I think you're being too hasty if you think you don't matter to anyone. There are people who care about you, Emmy, believe it or not.”

“Yeah, I mattered to my mother. But she's long dead. Or how about Tabitha – the best friend who's jealous of me for being forced to marry Tony because he's rich? Or the fiance who tells me he can't wait to bend me over and take my virginity from me, whether I like it or not?”

Tears welled up in my eyes. For the first time, I knew that I didn't want to go back. As crazy as it sounded, I wanted to stay there, in that cabin with Deacon forever. But I knew that wasn't possible. He was a mafia leader. He'd eventually have to get back to the city and to his business intrests and let me go. And I was pretty positive he was going to let me go. He certainly wasn't going to hurt me.

But at the same time, I didn't think that Deacon was a saint in all this either. I knew he had plenty of ulterior motives. In his defense though, he'd never pretended to care for me as a person – he'd been up front about his uses for me from the start. At least he'd been honest.

“But while we're on the subject, Deacon, I know better than to think you care about me because to you, I'm just a pawn in your game,” I said. “And as soon as my father gives you what you want, you're going to drop me off and leave me behind. So no, I don't think anyone actually cares about me.”

Deacon reached over and grabbed my face in his hands, forcing me to look up at him. He stared into my eyes as he spoke. “Emmy, you're right and you're also wrong. Maybe, it started out that way. You were a pawn. You were a means to an end for me. But over the time we've spent together and as I've gotten to know you, I – I've come to care about you. It sounds nuts, believe me, I know. And nobody is more surprised to hear those words coming out of my mouth than I am. But it's true. There's just something about you and I've come to care about you – as a person. And if you don't want to go back there, we can find a way to keep you from ever going back to your father again. You hear me? I give you my word.”

“You'd risk your deal – your business – because of me?”

“It's not risking anything, love. I promised your father you'd be free if he gave me what I wanted. You'd be free. You could choose to stay, if you wanted, and I'd make sure he'd never come get you. And I promise you that Tony will never lay his hands on you again, you got that?”

I couldn't believe Deacon freely admitted that he'd developed feelings for me like this. He was wrong when he'd said that nobody was more surprised by his admission than him – I was absolutely floored by it. But since he had – I wanted to believe him. I wanted to believe that I could be free from the Antonelli family legacy, and that I wouldn't end up like my mother or the endless line of women who happened to be born into the family. That it didn't have to be my life – not if I didn't want it to be.

I wanted to believe that more than anything.

But my father had his ways of getting what he wanted. Always had and I suspected, always would. Even though Deacon had proven himself to be a worthy opponent in their little game, he was still young and had a lot to learn about the life of a true crime family.

And I had to face facts – even if Tony wound up dead, my dad would find me. If not because of the alliance with the Bellini's, then because I was his. His property. His possession. His – thing. And there was no way he'd allow me to be with Deacon, not as long as he was alive.

Still, I wanted to revel in the fantasy a bit longer. Stroking Deacon's cheek, I smiled up at him.

“You'd do that, for me?”

“I can't believe I'm saying this, but I'd do anything for you, Emmy,” he said, kissing the top of my head gently.

It may have only been a matter of days, but already, there was something more between us. Something I couldn't explain. But something powerful that shook me right down to the very core of my being.

And something my father could never begin to understand.

 

 

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