NICO: A Mafia Bad Boy Romance Read online

  But I wasn’t here by choice. I was trapped. That was my problem. I always needed freedom, I was claustrophobic trapped in this cabin, trapped in this life. I needed the choice at least to stay or go.

  I tried to put it all out of my mind, then he came up behind me. Put his arms around my waist and his lips on my neck and it felt so amazing, so safe. And I hated it all the more.

  I shrugged him off and, turned to him, “Get your hands off me,”

  He fell back, surprised, but then smiled and came closer again, wrapping his arms around me and speaking into my ear, “You belong to me, I know you like fighting me off, but it's becoming a little boring isn't it? Why not admit to yourself you want me, your body does, doesn’t it?” He ran a finger down my stomach, and sent a shiver down my spine.

  “I hate you,” I told him, not sure if I meant it anymore.

  “It would be easier if you liked me, but you don't like easy do you?”

  “If you cared for me, you wouldn't keep me prisoner here, if you loved me you wouldn’t do this.”

  “You're here because it's best for you and because I want you here, and you please me. That's all, there'll be no more talk of love and all of those things.”

  “What happens when I no longer please you?” I asked, turning my back on him.

  “I don't think we'll have to worry about that for a while yet, sweet.”

  “You can take any woman, there are plenty I'm sure that would come willing to you, why me and why like this?'

  His eyes narrowed and darkened as he stared at me, turning me to him and holding me against him, “Because no one else has pleased me as much as you. You’re the only one I want right now.”

  “It’s not fair for you to have all the power. It should be up to me to go or stay.”

  “And if it was, what would you choose?”

  “I don’t know.” I told him, honestly.

  “That’s why I won’t let you decide.”

  “I have bills, responsibilities, a life.”

  “All taken care of.”

  “A boyfriend.”

  “Do you really? How many times have you thought of him since you’ve been here?”

  “Still.”

  “Also taken care of, he’s been informed you’re safe and sound. And hasn’t put up much of a fight I take it. You’re free to send a note if you want.”

  “I feel trapped, claustrophobic here, in a one-room cabin.”

  “Want to go out on the lake?” he asked.

  He tried to show me how to start the boat and drive it, but it was so old and it wasn't turn key, push gas, go so I was out of my element. It was pull cord, choke engine, adjust throttle, and maybe more. But it was a beautiful day, sunny, warm breeze, and an excuse to wear a bikini and soak up the sun and watch him in his bathing suit.

  The boat was old, but more 'classic' than run down with age. It seemed like a heavy boat, made of dark mahogany, and didn't get tossed around by the waves at all, “Why the old boat?” I asked, surely they could have new one, easier to handle.

  “It's one we had since I was young, the classics never go out of style.”

  We rode out far from the shore, but it was still just barely visible on the horizon. The other side of the lake, the other shore couldn't be seen, it was a wide expanse of crystal blue water, the sun hit it and it shimmered like ice.

  The fishing poles were in the water and we caught fish almost immediately. “I catch, you clean, I cook, how about that?”

  “I don't know how.”

  “It's real easy, you stick the knife in here, slice like this, and wash out the insides like this, he showed me with the long thin knife, that sliced with ease.

  “I'm not really dressed for cleaning fish.”

  “You could take it off, no one out here but us and I've already seen what you have.”

  “And you gave me these marks.” I answered, without looking at him, they didn't hurt, but they were awful purple marks on my ass.

  “You came to enjoy it though. Pain before pleasure, you know.”

  “It seems all you are is pain.” I was frustrated the way this was going, never a simple day between us. I took it out on the fish, becoming good at gutting them, only because I imagined his face on their bodies, I cut quick through the underside, disemboweling them, the sliced off their heads. He watched me work, I hoped it made him uneasy.

  “It would be easier for you if you admitted you wanted me, that you like how I treat you, that you wouldn't want it any other way.” He came closer, “Admit you like my touch,” he was behind me now, his finger traced a path down my back and sides, down to my ass, near the marks he had placed, I felt he was about to kiss me from behind, and I could barely stand it, barely stand not wanting to fight him off again. “Admit it in the sun, just like you did in the dark.”

  I turned around to yell something at him, I wasn't quite sure what yet, and there he was, right behind me. I was ready to meet those insolent eyes, but they were pain and confusion, he gasped and breathed in and held his stomach. I realized I still had the knife in my hand, and I had cut him deeply in the stomach, blood poured from his gut and pooled on the deck of the boat, he sat back to catch his breath and I rushed towards him, “Oh my god, Marcus, what happened?”

  He reached out and grabbed my hand, “The knife,” he said.

  I still held it tightly, but released it to him when I realized he was trying to shake it out of my hand before I did any more damage.

  “Oh Marcus,” I cried, “Please, start the boat, tell me how to get you back and get some help,”

  He smiled a groggy smile that was infuriating, “Admit you like my touch,” he said.

  “Not now, Christ, you're bleeding to death in the middle of a lake and I can't help you.”

  “Admit.” He spoke again, the insolence in his eyes, his voice weak, but his eyes intense on me.

  “Fine, I admit it, now start the boat,” I pleaded with him, and he relented, he moved over to the engine, and pressed an electric start button, all the pulling and cranking before just another game for him.

  “Keep the needle on 270,” he said, pointing to the compass above the steering wheel. I drove in, holding pressure on his stomach and the boat filling with blood, “Please don’t die,” I told him as I held him. His eyes closed and he seemed to sleep, or worse, “Please,” I begged him.

  (Back to Table of Contents)

  CHAPTER 15 - MARCUS

  I woke up next to my father. He stared at me, and I forgot what was happening for a moment. I tried to sit up and blinding pain hit me in my stomach.

  “Hurts doesn't it? Maybe you should lay still.” He said.

  “Anna?”

  “She was here, by your side until the nurse said you'd be fine and would wake up soon. Kid's taking it pretty hard.”

  “She should be, she stabbed me.”

  “Yes, she did. But you were pissing her off while she had a knife in her hand. That's the sort of mistake you make only one time, son. She may not be Sicilian, but she could become an honorary member if she keeps doing stuff like that. Anyway, she cares enough to sit by your bed for 20 hours straight and not sleep.”

  “She doesn't care, she fears me.”

  “Maybe. Call it what you want, just don't anger her when she has a knife in her hands.”

  I remember the knife in her hand and how angry she looked when she turned around. And I remember how her face changed when she realized what she had done. Tears welled up immediately, but she didn’t shrink or cry, she battled to save me, drove the boat and held me.

  After that the world went black on me. There’s no profit in thinking how I almost died, could have died, but I guess I owed her my life. It’s a terrible thing to be in debt to someone, especially that big of a debt. Did she care for me? I guess it would have been a good opportunity for her to let me bleed to death in the boat and go wherever she wanted to, to escape. But she didn't. She saved my lif
e maybe, but also almost ended it.

  “And anyways, you lost a lot of blood, had to give you some of mine as a matter of fact, and I expect you to get better and return it.”

  “I'll try.”

  “You'll be back to normal in a few days or a week I guess, all stitched up. That nurse almost made us bring you to the hospital, but she took good care of it, and Anna did the rest. Sal offered to take you to a Veterinarian, do you believe that? I guess Gianni's wife was a vet or something like that and she did a good job with you too.”

  “Yeah, I heard that story.” I answered.

  “Well, I'll tell you another one. Me and your mom. I loved her dearly, but took far too long to let her know that. And that was one of the reasons we separated. Don't make my mistakes. Leave here, take her with you. You don't need any of this life and the headaches. You have options. Use them. I never had options.”

  “And what? Sal takes your place?”

  “Maybe, maybe not. I'd rather my brother, Carmine, but it's not up to me.”

  Carmine would be a good choice, steady, honest loyal. But not me.

  I wasn’t sure if I had the energy to argue with him, thankfully, the Nurse and Priest walked in.

  “Ah good. Perfect timing. The patient is ready to be moved I think.”

  “Where are you going?” I asked. He was in no condition to be moved anywhere.

  “Not me. You. I’m evicting you. You’re too old to be living with your father, especially when you have a place of your own and someone prettier than me to look after you. I love you, but I love you better when you visit.”

  The move was painful, Gianni pushed me up the path in a wheelchair after I gave up on trying to walk. Every jangle stirred up the pain in my stomach. Gianni took the chair up to the cabin, and I was excited to see he again.

  Tess opened the door, “Welcome home,” she said, Anna was in back of her, looking sheepish, if she was a child she would be hiding in the folds of Tess’s dress.

  Gianni lifted me out and helped settle me on the bed, every jangle hurt. There is no way to protect you stomach from jostling, not like a hurt arm or leg you can hold close, or overcompensate for with the other arm or leg, when your gut aches, every movement except your eyes hurts.

  “Anything you need from us, or are you two alright?” Gianni asked.

  “I think I can handle him,” Anna said, standing next to Tess now.

  Taking care of me and doting on me like I was a child or invalid annoyed me. “Gianni, can you sweep the place for knives? I don’t want another accident to happen.”

  “Then you had better be nice to me,” Anna said, with a devious smile.

  “You’ll be fine, just rest, and don’t play with your stitches, or else we’ll have to fit you with one of those lampshades we put on dogs.” Tess added, and they left together, “We’re close if you need anything.”

  And there she was, standing over me, smiling slightly still. “It seems I’m you captor now. What will I do to you?”

  “How about apologize for stabbing me?”

  “I am sorry about that. But you could thank me for saving your life.”

  “You only had to save it because you almost took it,”

  “Yes, and I just apologized for that. That’s the last time you’ll hear me apologize for that.” She sat down next to me on the bed. “I know you hate this, being powerless, being at my mercy, but you’ll have to get used to it for now.”

  She traced her hand over my crotch. “But it can go easy for you, and very, very comfortably.” Her hand stilled at my cock, but even the thought made me wince in pain as my stomach clenched.

  She smiled at that, and added, “Or it can go rough,” and she let her body fall on me as she kissed me.

  (Back to Table of Contents)

  CHAPTER 16 - ANNA

  As horrible as it was, I loved the days after the accident. It felt selfish and mean to enjoy it. I felt guilty for enjoying it while he was in pain, but he was a different person when he was needy and depended on me. I was probably a different person too, being able to concentrate on helping him and making him comfortable instead of working against him and trying to make him uncomfortable as often as possible.

  We talked and laughed as people, not as enemies. He even tried to show me how to play the banjo. The six strings were difficult to master, three sets of two, so they could be played as three strings or 6, or combinations in between. His fingers were far more delicate with it than mine, and maybe the fact he was in pain and needed to be more gentle, made him play more gently and soft, and be extraordinarily patient while teaching me.

  I would help him to the main house to sit with his father, and he would thank me for the help and I would chide him when he tried to do too much. We were settled into a boring old married couple relationship. Though the desire was still there.

  My favorite part was helping him dress- and undress, of course. Two days after he returned to the cabin, I changed the bandages on his wounds and decided he needed a bath.

  “What do you think about a shower?” I asked him.

  “Is it getting that bad?”

  “How to be delicate here? I can live with it, but I’d rather not have to.”

  “The lagoon then,” he said, “I can manage my way down there.”

  He tried to get up and the pain stretched his face, I got the wheelchair out from the corner, he hadn’t used it yet.

  “I’m not a cripple, I don’t need that,” he said brusquely when he saw it.

  “You’re not a cripple, but this could help, or I could. You have to at least admit you need some help.”

  He looked at me, and clearly I should have pretended it was his idea, or that he didn’t need help, that meanness of a wounded animal showed in his face. But he kept whatever he was going to say to himself, and allowed me to help him. An improvement.

  He grabbed a small hand gun from near the bed, “Do we really need that?” I asked.

  “I hope not, but better to have it and not need it than need it and not have it.” He said.

  I walked him the whole 43 steps to the lagoon, he tried to keep as much of his weight off of me as possible, but his face was twisted in pain, and I did my best to make him lean into me. Somehow we made it, and he rested on the sandy shore, and caught his breath.

  “I think I can manage from here,” he said.

  I laughed at him, “You’re too weak to walk here on your own, I’m not leaving you in the water on your own. Besides, I don’t get to have your body, but I will see it.”

  I said the words in my best imitation of him, and he realized what was happening. “You’re enjoying this aren’t you?”

  “A little more than I should, but I do feel guilty about that.” I told him, truthfully. “Now let’s get you undressed,” I moved to help him.

  I peeled his shirt off, delicately, but used every chance to run my greedy fingers over his body. His muscles were coiled like snakes, and when I got to his pants, they were bulging, but he was in obvious pain. I kissed him on the cheek, very unsatisfied, and he slipped in the water. The weightlessness showed in his face, he no longer needed to brace himself for every movement, every shift of weight, his face came back to normal, almost, and he was calmer, weightless as he washed, and floated.

  “Soap?” he called out to me.

  “Right here,” I smiled, with the soap in my outstretched palm. I deeply wanted to see him come out of the water naked, angrily walking towards me, but I couldn’t be that cruel. I knew how much that would hurt. So when he gave me the helpless look, not yet deciding whether he was going to walk out, or yell at me, I smiled and I slipped in towards him, undressing as I went, watching his hungry eyes. I felt his skin in the water as he grabbed me and kissed me, the warmth of his skin against the coolness of the water and the air. I felt the insistence of his cock against my thigh, but even here, almost weightless, pain tore at his face.

  “Feeling better I see?” I t
old him,

  “Starting to.” As he held me closer, and tried to lift me towards him, but he couldn’t quite make it.

  “Rest up,” I told him. “You’ll need all your strength soon,” and gave him a chaste kiss on the cheeks, both of us disappointed.

  At the same time, we both heard a car pull up outside the gate, and the gate open. His eyes turned to the animal again, caught in a moment of weakness, the gun on the shore, far away, we went still, listening.

  We heard muffled voices and a single set of footsteps walking our way, Marcus waded slowly and silently towards the shore. But just as he reached the gun, Sal came through the woods, almost as surprised to see us as we were to see him.

  “Sal? What are you doing sneaking around out here?”

  “Not sneaking. Jackie is being a pain in the ass, my crew and his crew showed up at the same job. We’re trying to work it out peacefully, without bothering you in your current, difficulties.”

  “Me and my difficulties don’t matter, I need to know these things and settle them before they become a problem. Come by later and tell me about it, in detail.”

  “You’re the boss.” Sal said and walked off.

  (Back to Table of Contents)

  CHAPTER 17 - MARCUS

  She was a cold glass of water- just out of reach- as I was dying of thirst. I was going mad being trapped in this bed, and not being able to use it the way it should be used. Anna was snuggled up close to me, her face in my chest and her arms wrapped up under her chin. I kissed her forehead, and she snuggled closer, what an angel when she's asleep.

  I wanted her, I ached for her, my cock ached for her. I held her arms gently as I rolled away from her. And eased them down into the warm spot on the bed I had just left. Every time I did this I didn’t know what the hell I was leaving. I walked out and the cold wind coming off the lake bit into me. I retreated back into bed, my strength was coming back, but not all the way there yet.