Trapped in his End Game (Series)

Nicky hovers around me, smiling, trying to distract me. “Come with me, honey. I’ll get you a drink.”

My legs tremble as I rise out of the seat and follow him into the next room while I hear their heated arguments. I collapse into a chair next to the table with cold cuts and cheese, while Nicky makes me a drink. He presses it into my hands and sits down next to me.

“Here you go, hon.”

I take a large gulp without thinking and nearly spit it out. Forcing myself to swallow it down is like gulping down gasoline. He laughs as I set the drink down and cough.

“Good shit, eh?”

“Nicky, who was that guy? Why was he so nasty to me?”

He waves it off like it was nothing. “Silvio just joined us in New York. He’s always been a prick, but he crossed the line tonight.”

An involuntary shiver goes through my body when I think about how frightening his gaze was. “I don’t want to see him again.”

“I don’t think anyone will after tonight.”

“What?”

Nicky only smiles at me like it’s all a big joke.

“Adriana, let’s go.”

I look up towards the source of the gritty voice and see Vincent standing near the exit.

“Bye,” I tell Nicky. “Thanks for the drink.”

He waves goodbye as I join Vince across the room, who looks slightly calmer. I feel safe for the first time this evening when I’m at his side.

“You okay?” he asks in a soft voice.

“Yeah.”

“Good, cause that motherfucker never will be again.”

The heat in his voice startles me as he flashes a grin towards Nicky and pulls me outside.

“What does that mean?” I ask, startled.

“It means exactly what it fucking means.”

The heat from his voice scorches me. I detach from his side and wrap my arms around myself.

“I thought your boss said that you couldn’t touch him,” I say in a slow voice as we enter the elevator.

Vince leans against the wall, glowering. “I cannot let that go, Adriana.”

I’m speechless as we walk towards the car, trying to think of something, anything to stop him. “Where are we going?”

“I’m dropping you at my place. Then I’m going out.” He looks like he’s out for blood. He rips open the car door to let me inside.

Going out to get him. My whole body trembles.

I’m hoping that he’ll calm down during the ride there. When he slides inside, I turn towards him. “Vince, I don’t want you to do this. It’s crazy.”

“You can beg me all you want, sweetheart. It won’t stop me.” He revs the engine ruthlessly, peeling out of the parking lot.

Keeping quiet, I watch the streets rush past me in vibrant, neon colors as he drives to Manhattan. He’ll come to his senses. I can distract him.

“Vince, I’m really flattered that you care so much about my honor, but I really don’t care about what he thinks about me.”

“That’s nice, but I care. He didn’t just insult you, he insulted me.”

“So?” I burst out, frustrated. “Do you beat up everyone who insults you?”

He gives me an incredulous look.

Oh. Well, then.

He doesn’t respond as he parks his car in a rush, immediately getting out to usher me into his apartment. I get out of the car, my heart racing as he takes my elbow. I plead with him all the way up to his apartment, but he’s stony-faced. None of my words affect him.

“Vince, this is stupid!” I shout as we enter his apartment. “I don’t want you to get hurt over me.”

He slams the door and I tremble from the noise. Glowering, he steps forward, grabbing my arms. “Adriana, you don’t understand my world. If I don’t do anything, I will look weak. People will talk. It might as well be an advertisement to anyone on the street that they can fuck with me and get away with it. No fucking way am I going to let that happen.”

I lean forward, tilting my head up to kiss him. His lips fall against mine and a glow starts to burn in my chest. I pull his body closer to me, threading my fingers through his thick wave of hair. My tongue sweeps across his lips and teases his mouth. He responds hungrily, his fingers gouging into my flesh.

“Stay with me, Vince.”

“Can’t,” he says against my lips. He reaches up and takes my wrists, gently pulling them away from his face.

“How will I know if you’re okay?” My voice trembles and that seems to anger him.

“Fuck, Adriana. It’s not like I haven’t done this hundreds of times before. I’ll be back soon.”

He rips away from me, striding through the door without a backward glance. The door shuts and locks behind him, and I hear his hurried footsteps disappearing.

What do I do now?

I pace in the darkened apartment. Should I follow him? Should I call someone? Or should I just trust him?

I don’t know.

My weary footsteps take me across the foyer into the living room that looks over the street. Normally, I would be unable to sit still being left alone in his apartment. The urge to snoop through his things is overshadowed by my worry for him. I stand against the wide glass, looking down at the street, but I’m too far up to recognize the cars anyways. Still, I slump down and press my cheek to the cold glass, hoping that it will help me stay awake. The hard floor is uncomfortable under my legs.

Stay awake.

Stay awake, a voice echoes in my head. Awake.

A warm hand cups my cheek, and fingers brush my hair away from my face. His breath billows over my face and he kisses me. My tongue darts out as something wet sticks to my mouth. The metallic tang makes me recoil. Blood.

My eyes flare open to a dim, orange sunrise illuminating the grey skyline beyond the glass. A shadowy form kneels in front of me, the sparse light illuminating his battered face.

“Vince!”

I stand up with him, noticing how he carries himself differently. There are lines under his eyes and his lip is bleeding, but his chest is puffed out. He looks proud of himself.

“Can’t believe you waited for me all night like this on the floor.”

“Of course, I waited!” I rub the sleepiness from my eyes. “Vince, what happened?” I take his hand but he winces.

“I’m a little sore.”

“Oh, Jesus.”

He lets me drag him into the bathroom, where I flip on the lights and we wince horribly from the sudden flare. Then I gasp when I see all his injuries thrown in sharp relief.

There are little cuts all over his face, swelling on the side of his head. His white shirt is bloody and torn.

“Did he throw you in a blender or something?”

He laughs at the joke. “I believe it’s times like this when they usually say, ‘you should see the other guy.’ Well, you should see the other guy. Believe me, he’s not going to be doing anything much for a while.”

My eyes squeeze shut when I see the gloating smile on his face. “You killed him, didn’t you?”

“Adriana, relax.”

Opening my eyes, I still see the monster covered in blood, grinning at me. He reaches out for me and I recoil.

That sobers his expression.

“I did not kill him, Ade.”

“You must have beaten him really badly.”

“So what?”

“So, you don’t just beat someone because you have a problem with them.”

“Since when?”

Fear strikes a chord in my heart. I swallow hard. Of course, I should have expected this. I shouldn’t act so surprised. He told me, didn’t he? He warned me. I’m not a good man.

“You’re involving me in things I want nothing to do with!”

He turns from the mirror to face me. For the first time, I see a hint of remorse on his face. “I’m sorry for bringing you into this, but I won’t apologize for what I did.”

A frustrated sigh leaves my lips. “I’m not into this alpha male posturing bullshit. I just want someone who makes me feel safe.”

“I’ve told you my reasons. I’ll deal with the consequences.”

Consequences?

“Look, this is my life. Either deal with it, or get out. I won’t change.”

A flush of adrenaline tingles through my body. I know I should. I know that I can’t change him. He touches my throat and the shock travels down my spine. I can’t give this up.

“I’m giving you this one last chance to walk away. Maybe you should take it, but I hope you don’t.”

“I don’t want to.”

His thumb presses into my neck, into the jumping vein. My head swims suddenly.

“Adriana, I mean it,” he says in a warning voice. “I won’t be able to let you go.”

But that’s all I wanted. I wanted to be consumed, to be owned and taken care of. No one ever took care of me, but I know that Vincent will always look after me as long as we’re together. It’s all or nothing.

And I’m all in.

Our hands cling to each other’s faces as we move in at the same time, kissing and tearing at each other’s clothes. Vince’s powerful hands rip my dress over my head and suddenly he slams me against the wall, his hand around my throat. My hands try to pry him off, but he seems to enjoy that even more.

Fine. He wants a fight?

I’ll give him a fight.

My hand whirls out of nowhere, slapping his face hard. In shock, his face stays reeled back until he slowly turns towards me with murder in his eyes.

It sends a jolt through my veins. He wouldn’t really hurt me, would he?

Twisting me around, he pins both my arms behind my back and forces me forward, out of the bathroom and into his den of iniquity. I’m shoved forward, sprawling on the bed. I twist around, fear making my heart race.

Is this real?

Vince climbs over me. There’s no kindness in his face, no glimmer in his eyes, no playful smirk. He’s morphed into a different man in the darkness, the man who punishes anyone who displeases him, who hurts, even kills those who insult him.

And now I’m one of them.

He wrenches his belt and slacks down while holding down my arms. I struggle within his grasp, of course, but he’s so strong that only one arm is more than enough to keep me pinned. I’m helpless. Vince forces me on my side as he spoons me, his hardness jutting into my back. His body moves over my back. His arms wrap around me like a straightjacket and his hand covers my mouth, muffling my cry when he pries open my legs and thrusts. It feels so good that wetness slicks my walls, making his passage easier.

Fucking hell.

He slams into me as he grunts in my ear, his breath hot all over my neck. Reaching down, he touches my clit, the moisture all over his hand. He uncovers my mouth and I moan, and then he inserts his wet fingers inside my mouth.

It’s dirty. It’s wrong. I suck his fingers clean and he withdraws them only to clamp tightly over my face, nearly suffocating me. Then one finger slips inside, and I latch onto it, biting hard when he enters me again.

His deep groans fill me with excitement. His mouth is on my neck, sucking, biting, whispering filthy things in my ear. My lungs burn as his hand covers my nostrils. It fucking scares me how far I’m willing to let him go. I’m so close to erupting, so close to losing it.

He buries inside me so hard that the last breath is knocked from my lungs. I bite down hard in my attempt to get air as an orgasm rocks through my body, clenching around him as he fills me with his essence for the first time. The hand slides from my face, and I gasp for air. His chest heaves against my back and I roll over so that I’m laying over his body. His hand splays on my back as I tilt my head up. His lips seal against mine and warmth blossoms in my chest, leaving me trembling when he pulls back, his head sinking into his pillow.

I climb over him, my face hovering over his. I can’t see him, but I can feel his breath still shuddering through his lips. I don’t know what he’s done to me, but I keep kissing him over and over, and he kisses me back like he can’t get enough of me. It’s hot and it fills me with desire, no matter how long we go at it.

My head lays in the crook of his arm, and I feel his voice rumbling through his chest, into my skin.

“Adriana, I want you to come with me to my mom’s house for Sunday dinner.”

My eyes widen in the dark. “You want me to meet your mom?”

“Of course, I do.” He presses his lips over my hair and kisses my temple. “Don’t you?”

“Yes,” I say immediately, following the flood of anxiety. I can’t help but feel this is going a bit fast, whatever this is between us. I’m touched that he finds me so important that he would introduce me to his mother.

“You don’t have dinner at your mom’s on Sunday?”

The bedroom rings with my hollow laughter. “I haven’t since I moved out of her place six years ago. She’s not really my mother anymore. She’s a cancer.” Eyes burning, I immediately regret it. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

He strokes my arm. “You can say anything you want to me.”

“What kind of person says that about their own mother?”

“A person whose mother took out a fifty-thousand dollar loan in her name. Not everyone’s family is flesh and blood. Jack’s been like a father to me ever since my dad passed.”

I try to think of who was my father figure. Who stepped in when Dad was murdered? No one. With my grandparents dead and no living aunts or uncles on either side, the responsibility fell to my mother to fulfill both roles.

Didn’t work out so well.

“Do you think she’ll like me?”

“I like you and that’ll be enough for her. Besides, what’s not to like?”

My alcohol problem? My kleptomaniac tendencies?

He kisses my head again, sending another flight of the butterflies in my stomach.