8. Austin
Chapter eight
Austin
T he door shut behind Dante, and I could breathe again. Finally, take a much-needed deep breath to calm the nerves surging through me.
His presence was exhilarating, sending shockwaves through my body as if it recognised him and was reaching out. After everything he’d done, after what he’d made me do, how could I feel that way about him?
I’d been willing to risk killing my best friend, but had I had a choice?
It was that or lose Freddie. To be honest, I didn’t think any of us were making it out alive, but at least he’d taken pity on Freddie and released him.
The same couldn’t be said for Joel.
“You fucker.” The words bounced off the cold walls. I shuddered at the horror of what had happened. I was sure the grief would follow.
What came next? That was what I needed to know, but sitting alone in my prison, I couldn’t think clearly.
How long would he keep me?
I lay on the bed and took out my phone.
Of course there’d be no fucking signal in this box he called a room. I couldn’t even message Amber and ask her to look in on Grandpa.
He’d be worried if I didn’t go home, but not half as worried as I was.
What if he woke in the night? What if he needed me? What if he took ill, and I wasn’t there?
Fuck. I had to get out of here, get home.
But how?
Wait. The casino chip might be able to help me. I took it out of my shoe.
It was warm. Hardly surprising, but there was nothing else.
No tingles, no comforting sensations, no buzz. It was like all the magic it possessed had vanished the moment I walked in here.
Was that why I’d been caught? Maybe the effectiveness had worn off. Had it even been there in the first place?
Fucking fairy tales. And I had been stupid enough to believe them.
I turned the chip over and over in my hand, looking for any sign I hadn’t been duped. Nothing happened. It was a useless casino chip.
The door creaked, and I slipped the chip into my pocket. Regardless of whether it was useful, I didn’t want anyone to see it.
Conrad walked in, a tray of food in one hand, a carton of juice in the other.
“Dante said to bring you some food.”
I checked my watch. Six a.m.
At least the carers would be in to see Grandpa in an hour. Hopefully, he’d be okay until then.
“I’m not hungry.” My stomach growled.
He raised an eyebrow.
Bacon and eggs, and buttered toast. It looked and smelt so fucking good, and my mouth watered.
I took the tray from him.
It could have been way worse.
“He’ll be by later. He has a few things to do today. Make yourself at home.”
His voice was gruff, but it held no malice.
“Is Freddie okay?”
“He’s fine. I left him close to his house. He won’t remember a thing.”
Well, that was something at least.
“Do you know why he wants to keep me here? Why didn’t he kill me or wipe my memory?”
“Dante has his reasons. He doesn’t always share them with me.”
“So, I sit here and wait?”
“Yes.” He left and closed the door behind him.
I pushed the eggs around the plate, but hunger took over, and I wolfed down the food.
It was good, better than I’d expected, but as soon as I was done, tiredness set in.
I’d been awake for twenty-four hours, kept awake by the adrenaline rush from the previous evening.
Now that it was quiet and my belly was full, my eyes drooped.
I fought it for as long as possible, but finally, I had to succumb to sleep. Images of Joel slumped in the chair invaded my dreams.
Dante featured, of course. Why wouldn’t he? It was his fault I was here. He’d kidnapped me, held me captive with no rhyme or reason, and I had no idea when I’d be released.
The opening of the door woke me, and Dante walked in, his clothes more casual than before.
Black cargo trousers, a tight-fitting black T-shirt, and black Doc Martens. Not a hair out of place, but why was he wearing his horns?
A memory surfaced, an image of them longer and black, red tips like blood dripping down them. Had I imagined that?
I sat up, self-conscious of my dishevelled state. I wanted a shower, but this place held nothing more than a sink and a toilet.
“Sleep well?”
I snorted. Stupid fucking question.
“What do you want, Dante?”
He clenched his fists and closed his eyes as he took a deep breath. He exhaled, a smile spreading across his face.
“You. I’ve come for you.”
He stepped forward.
Nope, not happening. I scrambled back on the bed until I hit the wall. “Leave me the fuck alone.”
“I’m not going to kill you, for fuck’s sake. I thought you might want a shower.” He wrinkled his nose, and I had to admit the aroma in here was a little ripe. “I might be the devil, but I’m not an ogre.”
“You keep saying you’re the devil, and you’ve got the whole horn thing going on.” I waved my hands towards his horns.
“You humans. I’m sure you were put on this earth to amuse me. The big guy certainly had a sense of humour.”
What on earth was he talking about? Was he delusional?
They were implants, surely. And the orange eyes? He had to wear contact lenses.
I’d go along with it if it pleased him and got me closer to being released.
“Do I have to stay in here?”
Couldn’t he just let me go?
“Unfortunately, I’m not done with you yet. There’s so much to learn about you. Have you never been curious about this ‘talent’ you have? I am, and I’ve not known you long. Barely twenty-four hours. Did you know that there were four live bullets in the gun I gave you yesterday?”
“You bastard. I could have killed him!” I shouted.
His eyes flashed a darker orange. What the fuck? Contacts wouldn’t do that.
“But you didn’t, and don’t you find that fascinating? You had two chances not to kill him, and you won. You didn’t kill him. How could you have so much luck? I’m intrigued in so many ways.”
Luck was something I’d got used to, and I didn’t really give it much thought. I’d lived with it all my life, for every one of my twenty-nine years. It wasn’t new to me, just an everyday occurrence.
“I’m not sure I can tell you anything. I’m just lucky.”
He shook his head, his lips thin. “No, you are much more than that. So much more. But come, let me take you to get freshened up. I have a few things I want to test you with, and I can’t have you walking around smelling like that.”
The fucking nerve of the guy. But the closer I got to the exit, the more chance I had of escaping.
I grabbed my jacket and followed him out of the room. The smell of stale piss that had permeated the other room was gone, and we headed upstairs.
Had there been so many stairs? By the time we reached the top, I was panting.
Dante, on the other hand, hadn’t broken a sweat.
I eyed the door. How far could I get before someone took me down? I wagered far enough, and while Dante spoke to one of his security men, I made a dash for it.
As if the door heard my prayers, it slid open.
I ran past the delivery man who had given me an escape path, breaking away from the man who would keep me captive.
“Stop right there,” a voice shouted. Did they really think I would?
I made it as far as the car park, but huge arms wrapped around my body, and I was unceremoniously tackled to the ground, the little air I had in my lungs forced from my body.
“Jesus fucking Christ.” I cursed at the weight pinning me to the ground.
A pair of Doc Martens appeared in my line of sight. I didn’t need to look up to see who was standing before me.
“Now, why did you do that? I thought I was being nice, but now you’ve made me mad.”
The heavy soles pressed my fingers into the concrete, cracking the knuckles. I shut my eyes and winced at the pain shooting through them.
I made no sound, not wishing to give him the satisfaction.
“Get him up. Bring him to my suite.”
The feet stepped away, and I was pulled to my feet.
“Move.” It had to be Conrad. “Now you’ve done it.” He frogmarched me back into the casino, my feet barely grazing the ground.
“Wouldn’t you have tried to run?” I asked, still struggling to get my breath. Goddammit, my fingers hurt.
“All you had to do was play along, do as he said. Now you’ve annoyed him. You really shouldn’t have done that.”
What was he going to do? He wasn’t some big-time gangster. He was a fucking casino owner. A hot one at that, but that was beside the point.
He was a nobody. Except even as I said the words, I didn’t believe them. The things I’d seen him do.
How had he killed Joel with a click of his fingers? How had his horns grown and his eyes flashed?
No way was he the devil. That was stupid. The devil didn’t exist. But maybe, just maybe, there was something more to him. Deep down, I knew he was something else and why my body reacted to him when he was near. After all he’d done, I couldn’t explain that.
We stopped in front of a lift, and the doors opened. Conrad pushed me inside and pressed a button, all the while keeping a hold of me. Not that I could go anywhere.
A minute later, the lift opened into a lobby, several doors leading off it. Conrad walked me down to a set of double doors, rapped on it, and opened them both.
Wow. A wall of windows overlooked the city. I’d never seen it from this angle, and although parts of it were undesirable, from here, it looked amazing.
Dante lounged on a black leather sofa. If Grandpa were here, he’d be telling him to take his boots off the furniture.
But he wasn’t. All I’d been trying to do was get back to him and away from this place.
Away from Dante and the uncertainty I felt when I was around him.
“Leave us,” he commanded.
Conrad let me go, leaving me standing in the centre of the room, unsure what to say or do.
“I should kill you, you know. No one disobeys or disrespects me, and you have done both in the last twelve hours. You’ve stolen from me, you’ve cheated, you’ve argued, and now you’ve tried to run away when all I wanted to do was help you.”
He spoke calmly, his voice even, and that was more terrifying than if he’d raised his voice.
“Once, I’m willing to forgive, but this is twice, Austin, and I can’t let that go unpunished. I’d planned a day of simple tests for you, but now you’ve angered me, and that’s never a good thing.”
An apology sat on my tongue. But why the fuck should I say sorry? I’d done nothing wrong, yet here I was in a room I didn’t know with a man I knew even less.
His unruffled demeanour intimidated me more than the face he’d shown us last night. I actually feared for my life.
I could beg, drop to my knees, and plead for forgiveness, but for what? Nah, he could go fuck himself. Consequences be damned.
He rose from the sofa and stalked towards me. He stopped inches away from me, but I refused to back down, refused to avert my gaze, refused to be intimidated.
I puffed out my chest and stared him straight in the eye. If he was going to kill me, I’d make sure my defiance would live with him for the rest of his natural life, no matter how long that might be.
“Kill me if you’re going to.”
He barked out a laugh.
“Oh, I’m not going to kill you. I’m too nice for that. I’m going to make you suffer. That is infinitely more enjoyable.”
He stroked his hand down my face, a soft gesture in complete contradiction to his cruel words. I leant into his touch but then stopped myself.
What the fuck was I doing?
“I need you to get undressed.”
“What?”
“Well, unless you want your clothes to get wet, you’ll need to take them off.”
Of course. That was the reason we were here. The reason he’d removed me from my prison cell.
“Where’s the bathroom?”
He pointed to a door, and I walked towards it.
“I said undress.”
“Here?”
“Where did you think I meant?”
No way I was doing that. It was humiliating, but maybe that was the point.
Well, if we were making a point…
I removed my jacket first, then my shoes and socks. Thank fuck I’d put the casino chip into my pocket.
Not that it mattered, but I still didn’t want anyone seeing it.
While I stripped, I maintained eye contact.
I’d hoped to make him uncomfortable, but it did nothing of the sort.
If anything, the obsidian black pupils widened.
He wanted a show. I’d give him one.
Slowly I unbuttoned my shirt. His quickening breathing spurred me on until I was standing in my underwear.
I wasn’t bulky, didn’t have defined muscles, but I was fit enough.
“What’s that?” He pointed to my birthmark, a weirdly shaped mark on my left breast.
“It’s a birthmark.”
He reached out his hand but faltered at the last moment.
I looked down. Yep, it was the same as always. Grandpa had said it was the kiss of the angels, and if you squinted a bit, it resembled an abstract angel.
I’d been self-conscious of it in school, but as the years passed, I’d forgotten it was there.
I fingered the mark. Nope, nothing different at all.
I looked back at Dante. Was that a note of worry on his face?
“You can touch it if you’d like. It doesn’t hurt. See?” I took hold of his hand and pressed his fingers lightly to the mark.
A sudden surge of what I could only describe as electricity passed through his fingers into my chest.
He jumped backwards, and I fell to my knees as pain seared through me.
“What the fuck?”
I groaned and clutched at the mark.
God, the pain was more than I’d ever felt. I could barely hear, barely breathe, barely see straight.
“Who are you? What are you?” Dante’s voice reached me as through a fog. “It can’t possibly be.”
Be what? I didn’t understand. My vision went dark, and I slipped into oblivion.
Was this the end?