Keep(Romanian Mob Chronicles 1)(4)

“Argh!” I let out a stifled scream as I fell, losing my balance when David’s grip on one arm pulled me back even as the man moved inexorably forward.

I braced myself as best I could with no free hands, tried to ready myself for the shock of hitting what I knew from experience were hard stones.

But impact never came.

One second I was falling, and the next I was crushed against a warm chest that felt as solid as the stones beneath my feet. A thick arm around my waist held me, not allowing me to move when I tried to back away. I looked up the strong column of his neck to lips thinned in a cruel scowl and up farther until I met ice-green eyes. The chill I saw there made me back up again, but the arm around my waist still gave no quarter.

And then the man looked away, and I followed his gaze to where it rested on my arm. Without a word, David released me and the loss of his touch pushed me closer to the man. I didn’t try to move, had realized that doing so was futile now and instead looked at David’s face.

When I saw the rage that contorted his features, everything in me screamed that I should go to him, try to calm him or deal with the consequences. But that wasn’t an option. The man’s grip was tight, unbreakable, and though it didn’t hurt, I had about as much chance of breaking it as I did of predicting what David might do to me if I didn’t.

So yet again, I was stuck, torn between these two men, a bystander in my own life, wondering what the outcome would be. I knew what David could do, and though the man was unknown, I didn’t doubt that he was formidable. And so I stood, waiting, the ever-stretching moment thick with tension as the men eyed each other.

And then I was moving, the man practically carrying me the rest of the way down the drive. Before I knew it, I was in the passenger side of a luxury car, and before I could even think to jump out, the man had rounded the vehicle, slid behind the steering wheel, and taken off.

Before the gates were completely open, the man drove out and sped down the road. It hit me then that I was being driven away from a house that had been my own personal hell for so long that I never thought I’d get out of it. I’d fantasized about leaving that place so many times that I’d had to force myself to stop. The reality of waking up to David and whatever torture he had planned, the knowledge that I would never be free made the fantasy far more costly than the moments of happiness it gave me.

But those seconds of watching that house of horrors get smaller and smaller and smaller were the greatest gift I’d ever been given.

And when the house was gone completely, the horizon only dark skies and the reddish glow of taillights over asphalt, I turned forward and prepared myself to face what might become my new nightmare.





Three





Fawn



* * *



I sat stock-still as the car purred down the road, smoothly guided by the man’s huge hands on the wheel. My fingers had been locked around the door’s handle since he’d closed it, and as discreetly as I could, I tightened my hold.

“That would be a painful way to die. And I wouldn’t stop to come back for you or tell anyone you were there.”

His deep voice sliced through the heavy silence of the car’s interior, his words, his gravelly rasp sending shards of ice through my veins. David had threatened to push me out of the car before, but I’d known it was all bluster. He preferred to work in private, wouldn’t risk someone seeing, or leave the possibility I might live. For all the pain he caused, the moment-by-moment suffering that being in his presence caused, I knew David, understood him. But this man…

I knew nothing of him, nothing of what he might do, and that was most terrifying of all. I sat up straighter, not sure why, knowing I had no place to go but needing to do something, anything, to try and tame the fear that had my nerves on edge.

I kept my gaze forward, uncertain how he’d even seen me when he’d seemed so focused on the road. But the how didn’t matter. I was on alert now, knew this man didn’t miss anything.

It was strange—not being watched, because God knew David did that—but being seen. I almost felt invisible around David, tried to keep myself that way especially when I sensed he was in the mood to inflict some of his petty tortures. But this man was aware, paying attention even when he seemed not to be. I’d have to stay on guard.

Silence again reigned, and though the vehicle was large, his presence was oppressive, almost overbearing. Not daring to risk looking at him directly, I peeped at him through the thick fans of my false lashes, certain he knew what I was doing, but unable to stop myself.

I glimpsed his huge hands, which still gripped the steering wheel tight, let my gaze move up bulging arms that were covered with inky-dark tattoos. Another surreptitious glance revealed a harsh face, one set in an expression that could be taken for anger, but that I suspected was just the natural set of his features, hoped so anyway.