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.