His Pet, page 3
She turns to face me with watery eyes, and I tilt my head as I study her. She has soft brown, curly hair down to her breasts and light brown eyes to match. She’s wearing a blue dress with an open back that looks too expensive for a girl her age, and I wonder if it’s part of her usual attire or if she wore it to celebrate her big victory tonight. She must be so proud.
“Now.” I use my assertive voice. She flinches, but then she moves onto her hands and knees.
She takes a few deep breaths to prepare herself for the oh so demeaning crawl to me, and I have to suppress a laugh. She has no idea what I have planned for her.
She keeps her head down as she crawls slowly to the bed. I pat the comforter beside me, and she stands and climbs onto the mattress, her teeth gritting like it’s difficult for her. I consider helping her, but I like the struggle.
“Here.” I extend the bottle and she snatches it and hurries to get the cap off. She downs the water greedily, and when the bottle crinkles and she’s sucking air, she pulls it away and gasps. She goes to hand it to me, but I point to the trash can on the other side of the fridge and she tosses it there, tensing when she misses and the bottle rolls on the floor.
I grab her by the back of the neck and drag her toward me just to feel her tense body against me. She shakes but is otherwise catatonic.
“Did you know I was just issued a fine for animal cruelty, Amelia?”
“They don’t belong in a—”
I slap a hand over her mouth before she can finish. I take in a breath to cool the anger brewing.
“You asked why I’m doing this,” I hiss through my teeth. She whimpers at the pressure I’m putting on her face, but I don’t move my hand away. “I’m trying to explain it to you. Don’t be rude.”
I let her go, and she recoils from me. She faces the floor and digs her hands into my comforter.
“You’re here because it seems as though you believe I’m cruel to my animals, and I’d like the opportunity to prove that I’m not. Since you’ve taken them from me, I can’t simply let you observe how I treat them, can I?”
“I believe you,” she says. “I made a mistake.”
I clutch her jaw and jerk her to look at me. “Yes, you did. A very big mistake, Amelia. But lucky for you, I’m going to be generous enough to allow you to make up for it.”
She doesn’t ask me the obvious question of ‘how’, but I offer her the answer anyway.
“For the next however long it takes to get my cats back, you are going to be my pet. Then maybe you’ll see what a good owner I am and maybe I’ll be distracted enough to not be so resentful that they’re gone.”
She shakes her head. “I don’t want to be your… I’m not going to do that.” She shoves off the bed, wobbling for a moment but then regaining her balance. She hurries back to the door and jerks the knob, frantically trying to get out, but I don’t quite understand why when there’s no way she can make it into the elevator without the passcode. Maybe it’s instinctual? Desperate? I don’t know. I’m not well versed in panic, myself.
“Then you’ll have to die.”
She freezes. My words might as well have been ice water thrown onto her with the way it makes her shake.
I get up and go to her, spinning her around and pinning her to the door. She stares at me with wide eyes and doesn’t flinch when I cup her cheek in an intimate gesture. “You don’t want to die, do you, Amelia?”
“Who the fuck are you?”
My hold roughens, and she must realize her mistake because she corrects herself. “Who are you? Please.”
“I already told you.”
“You told me your name. You didn’t tell me who you are.”
I pull my hand away and consider the question.
She doesn’t even know.
I laugh, and when it bubbles out of my throat, it doesn’t stop coming. She shrinks into the door, terrified, and it only makes me laugh harder.
She doesn’t know who I am. She doesn’t know the mess she’s gotten herself into.
I rub a hand over my face and force myself to come down from my laughter, but I leave my smile plastered for her when I meet her gaze again.
“I’m a member of the Gruco Crime Family and the owner of the casino you just went after.”
I tip her chin and lean down so I’m almost kissing her. Her sporadic breaths brush my lips.
“And now, Amelia, I’m the owner of you.”
4
AMELIA
I jolt awake and my hands fly to my neck when the weight of the chain feels like it’s choking me. I rolled over again. Every time I do, I feel the heavy metal pull, and I’m catapulted from a less terrifying nightmare.
I don’t know how I’ve slept at all.
The first glimpse of sunlight shines through the crack in the black out curtains, so instead of going back to sleep, I sit up on the rug I’m forced to sleep on and claw at the collar Lorenzo put around my neck. Bolted to the floorboard, the chain is maybe six feet long, but heavy enough that it nearly anchors me to the ground. A cage would be preferable to the never-ending feeling of being choked.
“You make so much more noise than Lucian.”
My eyes snap to Lorenzo, who’s staring at me through a sleepy haze.
I sit back on my heels and shift as far away from him as the chain will allow. “Maybe that’s because I’m not a tiger.”
Lorenzo stretches his arms above his head, then sits up, rolling his neck. “Neither is he. He’s a lion and a much bigger cat than you are. You’d think you’d snore softer.”
“I’m not a cat, and I don’t snore!”
He chuckles and rubs the back of his neck while I glare at him. “Whatever you say, Kitty.”
He throws the blanket off of himself and stands, and when he does, I have to look away. He sleeps naked and doesn’t seem to care that I’m right here and could see him clearly if I looked. The memory of him undressing last night flies through my mind and lights up my fear yet again, but I remind myself he didn’t do anything then. He hasn’t hurt me yet. Not like that, at least.
He flips on the light, and I slowly turn to watch him go inside his closet. I keep my eyes trained on his back and refuse to let them dip lower.
He pulls on a pair of sweatpants then comes back into the room. His smirk catches my eye, and I look away before my face can burst into flames from him knowing I was watching him.
“Are you hungry, Kitty?”
“No… And stop calling me that.”
He walks to me, and I force myself to stay still instead of shrinking back. Despite my poor sleep, I feel more alert than I did last night. My muscles don’t feel as heavy, and neither does my head.
I close my eyes at the feel of his large, calloused hands splaying over my jaw, but they open when he forces my head his way.
“You’re more catty this morning. Has the fear worn off?”
“I’ve never been afraid of you,” I lie, and the lie is so bad that it leaves a bitter aftertaste in my mouth. I lower my eyes to Lorenzo’s chest when his amused grin flares.
“Good. I don’t like girls who scare so easily. It’ll be more fun if I can challenge you.”
“Or you could just let me go.” I meet his gaze and try uselessly again to find some sort of reasonable side of him. Some side that isn’t so damn crazy. “We both know you can get Lucian back with the contacts I’m sure you have. I can see you love him and that I saw the situation wrong. I’ll disappear. You won’t ever have to—”
He presses a finger to my mouth and dips his gaze to my lips. They burn from the contact, but the rest of my body is frozen in place, so I don’t move.
“When Lucian was a cub,” Lorenzo begins. “He whined a lot. Now, it was understandable because he’d just been ripped from his pride when I took him in, but even so, it became so bothersome that he had to wear a muzzle to bed at night.” He lifts his brows to emphasize his point. “You should be very careful about becoming bothersome, Kitty. I don’t have a muzzle for you, but I can easily get you a gag if it would help you remember not to talk so much about pointless things.”
I narrow my eyes at him, and he smiles before removing his finger and walking around the bed to pluck a key from his nightstand. He returns and unlocks the chain from the collar. As it falls to the floor, I take in a deep breath, the first of many. I thought the collar was bad, but it’s nothing compared to the weight of that chain.
Lorenzo starts for the door.
“Thank you,” I call at his back, and it causes him to pause mid-step.
He looks at me over his shoulder. “Come, Kitty. Breakfast will be up shortly.”
He leaves the room and doesn’t look back again, and I stay there on the rug watching him go. My stomach growls, but I ignore it and roam my gaze around the room, searching for something that could be used as a weapon if I needed it.
Which, I will need it. What are the odds of this guy not hurting me when he has one of his fits? Better question, what are the odds of him letting me go?
Not good. But even if I did manage to get a weapon and hurt him before he hurts me, I don’t know how to get out of here. He said he’s a member of a crime family, is that like the mob or something? How many people would come after me if I did escape?
I abandon my plan to search for a weapon and wrap my arms around my knees as I think.
A phone. That’s what I really need. I need to call my dad. Maybe he already knows I’m gone, although that’s doubtful. I see him maybe once a month if both of us are free, which doesn’t always happen.
Monica is supposed to meet me at the shelter today, so maybe she’ll know something’s wrong and call my dad when I don’t show?
The elevator dings, and my gaze darts to the open door. I can’t see the elevator from here, but I can hear whoever just arrived say something to Lorenzo. A couple minutes go by before I hear Lorenzo’s voice calling to me.
“Kitty, breakfast!”
I grit my teeth at the moniker, but my stomach betrays my anger and rumbles. I stand and make my way from the room. I need to survey the rest of the place anyway.
Now that I’m not overcome with fear, I have a chance to recognize the cold beauty of this place. It’s very much decorated with the dark taste of the owner in mind, with all the furniture either black or gold, but it has every bit the luxury you’d expect from a psychopathic rich guy. My eyes lock onto a fireplace on the far side of the wide-open space that makes up the living and dining room. There’s a rug in front of it with tiger stripes.
“It’s faux fur.”
I blink and turn my head toward the dining room table where Lorenzo sits. He has a plate in front of him, and I can’t help but notice it’s the only one on the table. My stomach growls in protest, but it isn’t loud enough for him to hear.
“What?”
He casually points his knife in the direction of the fireplace. The deft way he yields the blade reminds me he isn’t just crazy, he’s dangerous.
“The rug. It isn’t real tiger fur. I can tell you’re wondering.”
I open my mouth to make a smart comment, but close it and hesitantly walk to the table and sit down in the chair opposite to him, my head down.
“Kitty?”
I meet his gaze.
“Pets are not allowed on the furniture.”
I open my mouth again, but he tips the knife, and my eyes dart to it. He’s still holding it, and I have no idea if he’s doing it to scare me or if he just forgot to set it down, but it’s enough to make me swallow the protest lodged in my throat.
“Where am I supposed to sit?”
He spins the knife and points it down beside him.
I take a steadying breath and stand, but I can’t bring myself to step toward him into the vicinity of that blade. He looks like the type of person who wouldn’t hesitate to slit my throat just because the temptation is there.
He seems to read my mind because he sets the knife down and goes back to his food like he wasn’t just giving me a silent threat. I eye his plate and my stomach falls. Bacon and eggs. Surely he’s researched me enough to know I won’t be eating that.
I walk toward him and spot the silver dish at his feet. I kneel beside it and bite my lip as I lift the lid and steam hits my nostrils. Bacon and eggs.
I place the lid back on slowly and push it away.
“Something wrong?” Lorenzo asks. I don’t look up at him, but I can feel his gaze burning a hole in the top of my head.
“I can’t eat that.”
“Why?”
“I’m a vegan.”
He chuckles. “Not anymore.”
“I’m not eating animal products. If you won’t give me anything different, then I guess I’ll starve to death. That wouldn’t make you a very good pet owner, now would—”
Suddenly, the tip of the knife is to my chin. I didn’t even hear him pick it up.
I try to stay perfectly still but lift my head when Lorenzo presses the knife upward so I’ll look at him. He doesn’t press hard enough to break skin, but it’s enough to get me to move. When I meet his eyes, his expression has barely changed. He’s serious but not angry. Not visibly at least.
“Do you want to know what I usually do to people who cross me?”
The knife pokes me deeper, and I yelp, tears pricking my eyes. “No.”
“No?”
“No, I don’t. I’m sorry, I just…” He tilts his head and his eyebrows crease like he can’t quite figure me out.
Because he doesn’t know me. He didn’t know I was a vegan. He doesn’t know who my father is.
An idea sparks, and I lift my hands in the air. I slowly bring them to his wrist and try to ease the knife away, but he doesn’t budge. “My dad is Foster Norwood. Do you know who that is?”
Lorenzo lifts a brow but says nothing.
“He’s one of Las Vegas’s most successful real estate investors, and he has money. Lots of money.”
I wait for Lorenzo’s eyes to light up, but they don’t. They darken.
I’m pissing him off. Shit, how am I—
My head is yanked back by a fist Lorenzo makes in my hair, and I’m staring at the ceiling with the knife now sideways along my throat. Fear pours into my system, and tears fall from the corners of my eyes and slide into my ear.
I’m about to die.
Oh my God, I’m about to die.
“Is it true you run an animal shelter downtown? You’re an animal rights activist? Apparently, a vegan?”
“Yes,” I squeak out, wishing I could see him so I knew how angry he was. His calm voice gives away nothing.
“That leads me to believe you do, in fact, care a great deal about animals, yes?”
“Yes.”
“Then I’d expect you of all people to understand my animals’ lives are worth more than a generous ransom from some rich girl’s daddy.”
“I’m sorry,” I say, wincing when the knife presses into my neck. My skin dampens with blood, and I gasp with panic, only making it worse. “You’re right! You’re right, that was a stupid thing to suggest. I’m so sorry.”
“I’ve already warned you about this once. You suggest one more alternative like this to what I have planned for you, and I’ll skip the gag and go straight to silencing you forever. Do you understand?”
“Yes. Yes, I understand.”
He pulls the knife away, and my head drops to stare at the hardwood. Tears fall freely to the floor, and my hands shake. I expect to hear Lorenzo’s silverware clinking on his plate with him going back to his meal, but there’s silence. I can feel him staring at me.
I have the inclination to ask what he’s going to do to me, but he’s already answered that, and I know at this point I’d only piss him off more. It’s obvious what this is, but I haven’t quite been able to accept it. Not until now.
He’s going to humiliate me. He’s going to treat me like an animal until he grows bored with this little game of his, and then… and then I don’t know. And I don’t want to think about it.
The elevator dings, and I look up to see a man revealed as the door opens. He has the same olive skin and dark hair as Lorenzo, but he’s younger and softer without a scar. He doesn’t have the crazy look in his eyes that Lorenzo has either, but there’s still a subtle resemblance. He has the same dark irises.
I bite my lip and try to make eye contact with him as he walks up to the table. Anger emits from him, and he doesn’t seem to notice I’m here. Or he just doesn’t care.
“Valentine retaliated,” the man says, running a hand through already disheveled hair.
I turn toward Lorenzo and widen my eyes when I see he’s still staring at me. He holds my gaze for a moment before turning to the other man.
“Is that so?” He speaks nonchalantly, as if the news doesn’t bother him like it obviously does the other man.
The chair beside me scrapes as the man pulls it out and plops down in it. There’s no chance he doesn’t see me now, but he doesn’t acknowledge my presence.
Is this normal for them? I’m in a wrinkled dress, my hair is unruly, and tears are running down my face. Surely, he knows I don’t want to be here.
What if he doesn’t?
“Please,” I say before I can think too much about it. I eye the man imploringly, my lower lip trembling. “Please help.”
The man’s angry scowl moves to me, and his lip curls. He looks up at Lorenzo and speaks as if I didn’t say anything.
“Two of our whores were found in the river this morning.”
“The river?” Lorenzo asks. “Are you sure it’s Valentine’s doing? Why would he go thirty miles out of the way to dump bodies when he could be more direct?”
“Because he’s a pussy.” The man sighs. I see him shake his head from my periphery, but I’m not really looking at him anymore. I can barely process what I’m hearing.
Dead. Two women are dead because of this man? Because of these people?
Why doesn’t Lorenzo sound more distraught?
“I’m certain it was him.”
“Hmm.” The chair scrapes, and Lorenzo leans back in it. He crosses one leg over the other, and I numbly scoot to give him room to do it. “Was it by any chance the two prostitutes we took from him?”
