Bad Boy: Valetti Crime Family (A Bad Boy Mafia Romance) (10 page)

“You don’t understand, I have to be available,” I say.

“You want to be able to go online without being monitored?” he asks.

I nod my head even as I realize how ridiculous my request is. But he said he’d give me my life back. And this is my life. It’s my passion.

“Alright, kitten,” he says as though it’s perfectly normal. As though there’s no harm whatsoever in allowing me to do this without him here. I remember the ping from his earlier text. But that had to have been a coincidence.

Hope rises in my chest. Maybe I can get the fuck out of here after all. I don’t need him fucking with my emotions and manipulating me into fucking begging him like he just did. He hands me back the computer and I take it as gently as possible to hide my intentions. I’m going to escape. I just need to figure out how.

I
have shit to do
, but I’m waiting. I know she’s going to push. Especially after leaving her all hot and panting for my touch like I did. I walk about five steps away from her door and lean against the wall. If I’ve learned anything about my sweet little pet, it’s that she acts on impulse. And right now, she’s not too happy with me. But she needs to learn that she’s not always going to get what she wants. I readjust my erection and think back to how she writhed under me. She fucking wanted me. But she didn’t beg. And I had to get the fuck off of her before I broke my word.

I log on to my phone that’s now on silent and go through the alerts. There’s a logger on her computer and I set up a script to monitor what she’s doing. Even shit that she types, but doesn’t send. Titles of books or authors that could trigger clues. Words and phrases or certain sites that she’d think of going on. There’s also a feed. I can watch everything she’s doing as she’s doing it. And I can veto it, too. I go through the list of triggers again. Three triggers--
Comfort Food
, “help me, please”, and “taken.” The last two triggers seem harmless enough in context, but that first one? I know what my kitten was up to. I thought about going over and busting her ass. But I’m gonna wait until she makes a clear offense. Something she can’t deny is wrong.

I lean my head against the wall realizing what that means. I don’t want her back in the cell. But she’s going back. I’d bet my life on it. And that fucking sucks. I was hoping we’d make more progress; I was sure we would, but I was wrong.

Ping.
Another notification pops up and I’m quick to hit--blackout. My kitten is about to freak the fuck out. I hear her cuss and move around in the room. Her screen just went black, and she sure as fuck knows why. I pocket my phone and punch in the key code to her room. I check my other pocket for the sash and it’s there. Good. I’m gonna need it. I’ve got all sorts of shit I use for work out here in the hall. She doesn’t need to see that and think it’s for her.

I open the door and examine her room. She’s nowhere in sight, and the room is silent.

I close the door behind me quietly. “Kitten,” I call out for her, but she doesn’t respond. Even I have to agree the calm manner I’m calling out with is creepy as fuck. But it’s better that I’m calm. She’s already on edge, and I can’t push her away with my anger. She’s scared, and I don’t need her to turn violent. She would. I’m sure she would.

“Kitten, you will answer me.” I take a few steps past the living room area and into her bedroom. “Do you want to make this even harder on yourself?” I ask. There’s only a hint of anger in my words. I don’t want her scared of me. I want her scared of displeasing me. There’s a very big difference.

“I’m sorry, Anthony.” I hear her words as I open her closet doors. They came from behind me. I look at the bed, and then at the space underneath. Oh, how...pitiful. I walk over and stand where she should be able to see me, if she has a view from wherever she is under there. At least I feel a little relief knowing she responded to me at all. That’s a good sign.

“Kitten, you need to come out,” I say.

“Please,” she begs with a sob. She sounds remorseful and truly upset. And she should be.

“Please what, kitten?” I ask.

“Please don’t kill me,” she whimpers. I close my eyes and pinch the bridge of my nose as I exhale with frustration.

“I’m not going to hurt you, kitten.” My words come out soft to help her relax somewhat. “I can promise you I won’t. You already know your punishment.” I hear her sniffle amidst the small sounds of movement. “I knew I’d have to wait to leave. At least I can say I’m only mildly disappointed that you disobeyed me so quickly. It’s best we get this out of your system now.” A moment passes, and she doesn’t appear. I’ll give her one more chance.

“Come out now.” I make my voice harder and then regret that I did. She cries louder, but I still don’t hear her moving to come out.

“If I have to come get you, you’re really gonna regret it.” The thought of dragging her out makes my cock jump in my pants. Fuck, I would fucking love it. I can’t wait until we’re at that point. Once that pussy is all mine, I want her to hide from me so I can punish her. I want to punish that ass with my dick, rather than my hand. Soon. I remind myself that I just need to be patient. If I did it now, it would ruin everything.

As I open my eyes, I see her sliding out. Her small body drags on the floor as she squeezes between the floor and the frame. Poor Catherine. She looks so despondent.

I stand with my arms folded across my chest and watch as she slowly stands up. She hangs her head low and she’s angling her body in a way that makes it obvious that she expects me to hit her. She should know that I won’t. But she's still going to be punished. It will help her. I remind myself that this needs to happen. She’ll learn. I only want the pain to be pleasurable. And this punishment will contain zero pleasure.

“I had to try.” She looks at the ground as she speaks, and I fucking hate it.

“You didn’t. You didn’t
have
to.” It makes me angry that she thinks she needed to disobey me. She needs to get over that shit. Hopefully a day and a half in the cell will be enough. “You
chose
to.”

I pull out the blindfold and she submits to me, turning around so I can tie it and lead her to the cell.

We’re quiet the entire way to the cell. The only sounds are the echoes of our footsteps and her uneven breathing. I pet her back with every step and at times she seems like she’s ready to lean into me, but she doesn’t. She’s rejected my touch, my comfort, my trust. I sigh heavily as I take off the sash and prepare to leave her, but then I see mascara running down her cheeks as she crumples onto the floor and scoots away from me.

I need to wait until she’s calm. She’ll learn to accept her punishments. When she's fully aware of what she'll receive in return, that knowledge will keep her from failing to obey me.

I lean down and stroke her cheek. “It’s alright, kitten.” She doesn’t respond, but she doesn’t move away from me either.

“I’ll have to go get your things without you. You need to tell me everything you want.” I don’t tell her that her things will always be there for her. I plan on keeping up with her mortgage and bills. Every contact that she gets will go through me, and to her, and then back to the sender. I don’t need any red flags to go to the WPP. Fuck that.

The reminder of life outside of these walls pisses me off.

None of that will be necessary if I have to kill her at the end of the month. I press my lips into a straight line. That’s not going to happen. I’ve only just started to have my time with her. Vince will give her to me. I bring in so much fucking money with these hits. He’ll give me this. I just need to deal with the Cassanos.

“I--” She hesitantly looks at me and then back down, grabbing onto her fingers nervously. “I have a pair of earrings in my armoire.” She speaks so quietly I can hardly hear her. “I need them. Please.” She looks up at me with a pleading expression. “They’re owls,” she says as her voice cracks and she breaks down at my feet. She bends over with her hands on the floor as a wretched sob heaves through her chest. She needs me right now. This is more than just being sorry about getting caught. It’s more than being ashamed that she broke the rules, or fearing that I’m going to hurt her.

I sit on the floor next to her and pull her shaking shoulders into my embrace.

“I’ll make sure to get them. Anything else?” I speak softly into her hair and breathe in her sweet scent. Her small body is so warm against me. She’s leaning into me like I’m her savior, regardless of the fact that I’m about to leave her in a cell with nothing.

After a few minutes of me gently petting her back and her hair, she pulls away slightly. She still doesn’t look me in the eyes. “I can’t remember.” She wipes her eyes and sighs. “Nothing I can think of.”

I’m going all the way to her house for one pair of earrings. It’s nearly two hours away. Obviously they mean something to her though. I give her a curt nod that she doesn’t see, because she’s not looking at me.

I take her chin in my hand and force her eyes on me. “You’ll be here until tomorrow night. That’s your punishment.”

She noticeably swallows, but nods her head and manages to push out, “Yes, Anthony.” Good girl. She’s taken this well at least.

I have to leave her. I don’t want to, but I do. “I have to go, kitten,” I tell her gently. I hate that I’m leaving her in here, but she knew the consequences. It’s important for her training that I stick to my word.

She leans against my leg as I pet her hair. I know she doesn’t want me to leave, but I have to.

I pat her head to let her know I’m going, and she responds by looking up at me with sad brown eyes, glossed over with tears.

“I promise I won’t do it again,” she says, but her plea is weak. She’s resigned to her fate.

“You earned your punishment, kitten. I’ll be back to give you dinner,” I say.

With that I turn and leave her. She barely grips my leg, but releases me without me having to scold her.

It fucking hurts my chest as I press the keys to leave.

I wish she hadn’t done that shit.

But if I was her, I would have done it, too.

R
igs
, Vince’s giant ass lab, is lying pathetically on the floor begging. He’s a good-looking dog. I look to Vince and say, “See, told you the kids would ruin him. He’s a biscuit-begging mutt now.”

Vince shakes his head and my brother laughs, taking another drink of his beer. All the women are in the living room with the kids. Usually Rigs goes where the kids go, but we’re still in the dining room, and so is the food. Smart dog.

“He was so fucking good before the kids. You could drop a steak a foot from his face and he wouldn’t move,” Vince jokes, and we all have a laugh even though he’s shaking his head.

“God, the kids. Cockblocking and dog ruining,” Tommy says with his hands over his eyes. He’s worn the fuck out with the little ones. But he still says it with a smile.

“Gotta love ‘em though,” Vince answers.

“I need another beer,” Tommy says with a touch of humor.

“Grab me one, too?” I ask him. He gives me a nod and heads out. Vince gets up from his seat to pour more Jack in his glass.

As soon as no one’s looking, I give the dog the last meatball from my plate. He swallows it down so fucking fast there’s no way he even tasted it. I chuckle at him and watch him lift his head up higher so he can see what’s left up here. Greedy ass dog.

Vince takes the head seat again and leans back with his glass at his lips. When he looks at me this time, there’s tension surrounding us. I know what it’s about, too. I’ve been waiting for it.

“We gotta talk, Anthony,” he says.

Tommy makes his way back with the beers and passes me one. I don’t want him in here for this though. I don’t want him to know about Catherine. She’s my secret. She’s
mine
. I wish even Vince didn’t know. It kills me that he does. Even worse is that I know he doesn’t understand.

“Hey, bro, could you give us a minute?” I ask Tommy as I pop the cap off my beer. He looks between me and Vince with a touch of confusion, but nods his head with a bit of a frown.

“Everything good?” he asks. He’s always worrying about me. He always has.

Vince and I both nod as I answer, “Yeah, I just need a minute.”

“Suit yourselves,” he says, grabbing a bun off the table. He whistles at Rigs and the dog bounds off after him, wagging his tail.

“You need to take care of her,” Vince says the second Tommy’s out of earshot.

“See the thing is, I
am
taking care of her, Vince. We had a deal.” I put my beer down and lock eyes with him. “I paid, and she’s mine.”

“They seem to think otherwise.” He says the words as though them backing out is acceptable.

“That’s their fault. They made an assumption. They were wrong.”

“They give us almost thirty percent of the income from the hits, Anthony.
Your
income. You really wanna piss them off?” he asks.

“I couldn’t give two fucks about them, to be honest.” I say it with a hint of menace in my voice. I take another drink, trying to calm myself down.

Vince looks at me with hesitation. “What’s gotten into you? You aren’t usually like this.”

“Like what? Stubborn? Opinionated?” I ask. I know I’m pushing my boundaries. But I don’t care. I’m always on the outside with them. I have been for most of my life. I never ask for anything. This is the first and only request I've ever made.

“Look, I know you have your issues and all.” He talks in a hushed tone, and I fucking hate it. I hate how the entire family feels sympathy for me because of that shit with my mother. They talk about it behind my back. I know they do. But they fucking fear me, too. I’d rather have the fear than the sympathy any fucking day.

“My issues?” I ask, putting the beer down on the table and staring back at Vince like he’s going to have to spell it out.

I look back at him, and suddenly he’s not the Don. He’s one of the boys huddled around the broken, bloodied dumb fuck we were supposed to teach a lesson.

They all stare back at me. I can feel their eyes on me as I breathe heavily and try to calm myself. My shaking fists are dripping with his blood. He had it coming to him. They all know I’m fucked up. He should’ve known better than to push me.

“You alright, Anthony?” Tommy lays an unsteady hand on my shoulder. I look up at him and past him to see the other guys. They look nervous as fuck. Like they could be next. I’m not a savage. I can contain this. I do contain it. Every fucking day.

“Good job, Anthony.” Vince says as he looks between the dead fuck and me. “Pops is gonna be proud.” He says the words, but there’s more to it than that. I don’t know if it’s jealousy, or if he hates that he fears me.

That day I decided not to give a fuck about any of them. All of them except for Tommy. Tommy’s all I have.

That was the day they started giving me a little more space than normal. I had to push my humor onto them to loosen them up. But it wasn’t quite the same. Not with us doing jobs together. Thank fuck for Uncle Dante. He gave me the hits and the other shit I could do on my own. It was a release for me, but more than that, it saved me from being the social pariah. I always knew they felt that way about me. But having Vince say the words...fuck, it hurts to know it’s true.

“You know what I mean, Anthony.” He straightens his back and meets my gaze head on. I have to hand it to him, he deserves to be boss. But I can fucking smell his fear from here.

“I bought her, and now she’s mine. That’s what happened. End of story,” I say flatly.

“It’s not the end. You also agreed to one month, and that’s what they were told,” he says.

“I didn’t--” I start to answer, but he cuts me off.

“You did.” He says the words with finality. I never should’ve said it was his call. It pisses me off. I shouldn’t have trusted him. It wasn’t his decision to make.

“I have work to do, and I need to get home to check on her before bed.”

“Check on her?” he grunts a humorless laugh and it takes everything in me not to plant a fist on his jaw. I can hear Aunt Linda in the kitchen and the kids playing not twenty feet from us. I clench my fists at my side, but hold back. I finish the beer and grab my keys off the table.

Checking on her is my job. This isn’t about getting laid, it’s not about fucking her or using her, or demeaning her. That’s not what I want. This is more than that. It’s deeper than Vince could possibly know. It’s about having someone
need
me. And she does, whether Vince likes it or not.

“I mean it, Anthony,” he says to my back.

I don’t answer him. I still have time with her. It may be best that I don’t get too attached though. I close my eyes as I open the door and step out into the night.

The cold air whips against my skin. She’s in a cell for trying to get away from me, for fuck’s sake. I shake my head and feel torn. I thought this would be perfect, but it’s not.

I’m just damaged goods. That’s all I am.

Perfection doesn’t exist. Neither do fantasies.