I give him a forced smile, “good.” I take a deep breath.
“What’s bothering you, doll?” I look back at him like he’s lost his damn mind. Am I taking crazy pills? I was kidnapped by a group of men who wanted and tried to kill me and now I’m being held against my will with my son by a man that’s no good for me.
My arms splash the water as they rise up and cross over my knees to pull them into my chest. The movement of the hot water on my wounds makes them sting slightly, but it’s instantly relieved by the salts in the water. It feels so fucking good. “What are the plans exactly?” I like order, I like plans. More than that I like knowing where my life is going so I can direct in to an appropriate path. Right now I have none of that. I have no control. And I don’t fucking like it. But I also don’t have a choice.
“De Luca’s a dead man.”
I’m quick to answer, “he wasn’t when he took me.” Hearing that name makes my body cower in the water. I hate it. I hate that I can’t control how much my body hurts thinking of what he’s done to me.
He shifts on the edge of the tub. “I’m sorry for that. I really am, babe. But I’m gonna make sure he pays.”
“Is he the one with the tattoo?” I close my eyes remembering the vibrant green against his tanned skin.
“I thought you didn’t see anything?” He leans closer to me with his eyes narrowed. As if I lied to him. I should be scared, but I’m not. Instead I’m pissed.
“Don’t fucking look at me like that. When they took me, that’s all I saw.”
His hand shifts up to grip my chin. “That mouth of yours. I swear to God it’s going to get you into trouble.”
“Why’d he …?” I try to push the words out but my teeth grind together and my body stiffens. I don’t want to think about it. I don’t want to go back to what happened.
“His Dad used to be a big deal, but he got busted and De Luca just got out of prison. He’s playing fast and loose. Targeting the big guys and being sloppy about it. He’s only been out for a week and there’s already a target on his back. Him and the few people he has following him around will be dead by the end of the week. No one gets away with the shit he’s pulling. Not in this business.”
I pull my knees further into my chest. I want to ask him again. I want to know everything. But I keep reminding myself that curiosity killed the cat.
“Talk to me doll,” Dom gets up from his seat on the tub and walks behind me. I look over my shoulder as he gets something from the wooden shelf in the corner and then drags a bench from the stall over to the back of the tub. I turn and face the wall as his hands come down on my shoulders. Massage oil. It smells so good. Like Chamomile and some kind of citrus. His thumbs dig into my sore muscles. It reminds me how much my body hurts.
The punches I could take, but being hung up like that. Fighting my restraints. My head hurts remembering how I smacked it over and over against the edge of the sink. But it worked. I saved myself. If I hadn’t fought. My heart stills and my body tenses. I force my body to relax and close my eyes. There’s no reason to think like that.
“Ask me again and I’ll tell you. You just relax and talk to me.” I don’t believe him. He’s not going to answer a damn thing.
I take a deep inhale as his hands work my shoulders and then glide up my neck. Fuck it feels so good. My head goes limp and I struggle to think of a question. I remember asking him earlier, so I settle with that one, “how many men have you killed?”
“A lot. I can’t tell you how many, doll.” My eyes pop open at his confession and my shoulders go stiff, giving away my fear. “Relax babe. They all knew it was coming; they all had a gun aimed at me too.”
“If I hadn’t had the money, would you have killed me?” He huffs a laugh.
“First of all, dead men can’t pay you. It does set a bad example letting people get away with not paying you though. The first thing, the smart thing to do, is to not let a man make a bet he can’t afford.” His hands stop and I hear him swallow before he continues. “I knew… your ex, could pay. If he hadn’t shown up with the money, then we would’ve had a problem.”
“What kind of problem?” I have to ask; I need to know.
“I’d have drained his bank account.” I look up at him in absolute shock. “Yeah, doll. I have my ways.” He pushes my shoulders enough to get me facing the wall again and his hands continue rubbing soothing circles over my body. “But that wouldn’t be enough. I’d have to make an example of him.