Tortured Read online

  “Mrs. Williams,” I jump from the unexpected voice. “We’ve been waiting for you,” the young woman tells me hurriedly. She’s young, and wearing jeans and black t-shirt. There’s a press tag hanging around her neck. “Pictures were supposed to be taken already. Come with me.” She clasps my elbow and leads me from my inconspicuous spot towards James. “The reporter is waiting for you and your husband to take the last photos.”

  Number one, no one has ever attended this events dressed like she is. Number two, press? What the hell?

  My feet shuffle as she walks us quickly across the room. James has his back to me as we approach but the man he’s speaking with sees me coming. It’s one of the men I’ve seen him with before, one I don’t know. The man’s suit is perfect and expensive, his silver hair is full and impeccable belying his youthful appearance. He’s no more than forty, a man with experience, it surrounds him like command and warning. His eyes latch onto mine. His expression is cold and unreadable as James keeps talking. He watches me as we get closer and closer, his stare never wavering. My heart beats faster as the space gets smaller and smaller between us. The closer we get, the more apprehensive he makes me. I feel like he’s burning a hole into me with his eyes.

  “Dominic,” That must be his name, “I told you, things need to be renegotiated if you’re changing the terms. We’ve already agreed…”

  “Mrs. Williams is here,” the woman from the press with a death grip on my arm interrupts the conversation.

  James turns his head to look at me over his shoulder. “Where have you been?” he snaps. “You’re late.”

  “My apologies, there was something that needed my attention at home,” I reply quickly making up the lie. If he knew I slept late, he’d humiliate me in front of the entire room.

  “Fine.” He turns to me. “We’ve got some pictures we need to take. Come on.” Turning back to Dominic, “I’ll be right back.”

  The man’s eyes haven’t left me. It’s unnerving. He hasn’t said a word, but he’s the type of man who doesn’t have to. James is very handsome and wears only the best. He looks like a pauper next to Dominic. Everything about Dominic demands respect and attention, the man owns wherever he’s at. No doubt probably everyone in it as well.

  James herds me to a smaller room off the banquet hall where there’s a space set-up with lights and three camera men. There have always been pictures taken at the functions, but never anything of this magnitude before. The young woman who’d dragged me across the room is scurrying behind us talking on her phone. I feel like I’ve been sucked into a cyclone and everything’s swirling around James at warped speed. And whatever the hell today is all about. I could kick myself for not finding out what the big deal.

  Is the guy getting the Nobel Peace Prize or something?

  “Mr. and Mrs. Williams are standing for the photo shoot now,” the girl behind us is telling someone.

  Another assistant guides us into position, moving our arms, telling us to pose this way and that way, smile, look at each other, and on and on. Everything is happening so fast, the lights we’re standing under are hot, flashes are going off constantly all around us, people are congratulating James and asking me if I’m proud of my husband. I have no fucking clue what’s happening but I nod and smile and play my part as we’re directed to face one way or another.

  “We’re done here,” the young woman finally announces. Immediately James drops his hand from behind my back and the scowl returns to his face. “They’ll be letting in the guests, it’s time to go back,” Miss No Name barks the instruction. James walks quickly back to the room which we just left. “Stay with him, Mrs. Williams, it’s time to greet everyone.”

  “Oh, yes, of course,” I stutter.

  I’m completely confused and have no fucking idea what’s happening, but I follow James. When we return to the banquet room, it’s packed. Immediately James is standing tall with his signature million-dollar smile for the world.

  What the hell is going on here?!

  He stops just inside the room and waves…like a movie star. The room erupts in a round of applause. Now I’m completely lost. James turns to me and holds out his hand. “Put a fucking smile on your face, Sasha,” he growls still smiling, but no one can hear him but me.

  That snaps me back into my role. Instantly my mask drops, the one for show, as I tuck my hand in his and he leads me into the room. We’re greeted with ‘Well done, Mr. Williams,’ and ‘You’ve worked a miracle.’ It’s all I can do not to laugh at the disgusting display of worship. James clasps hands with people as we walk through, I nod and smile and say thanks for something I know nothing about. When we get through the crowd, I freeze.

  Gringo is standing at the other side of the room. In a suit. Looking wickedly handsome and dangerously quiet. But it’s his expression that stops me. It’s not directed at me, but at the man whose hand I’m holding. Even from here, I can see some tattoos peeking out of his closed collar around his neck with a perfectly positioned tie. The suit, a Versace maybe?, fits him like it was cut for his body. He looks like a devil on the cover of GQ. But the clothes cannot hide the animal inside him. The animal that speaks to me, that calls to me. That owns me.

  James turns to look at me. “Sasha,” he snaps. My gaze darts to him, my eyes I’m sure are wide and round. My steps falter as I start walking again.

  What is Gringo doing here?!

  I can’t take my eyes off of him. He keeps watching James. James only sees his admirers.

  My heart is hammering inside my ribcage. My reality and fantasies are threatening to crash together in front of a crowd of people. Excitement surges within me. A chorus of halleluiahs silently erupt in my head while at the same time dread washes over me. This could be a clusterfuck. A clusterfuck I’m not sure I wouldn’t welcome with open arms.

  James leads me to our table, it’s filled with only the most influential and affluent people. “Drink some water,” James speaks close to my ear. “You look like shit.”

  His words are like something vile in my stomach. I want to regurgitate them all over him.

  “You could have warned me it was going to be like this,” I snap back.

  He glares at me. I never speak back to him. But things have never been like this before. Whatever this is.

  “IF you can’t handle your duties, Sasha, just let me know,” his response is cold and vindictive.

  “I only meant I would have been better prepared. For you.” Back is the perfect showpiece.

  “It’s not my job to prepare you,” he answers with his perfect smile for everyone else.

  I want to get up and leave. I want to tell him how much of an asshole he is.

  I want to go to Gringo.

  Someone calls to James from his other side and I’m relieved to have the reprieve. I take a deep breath and pick up the glass of water in front of me and bring it to my lips.

  “You do it well,” comes a man’s voice, confident, dark, and slightly amused. He’s behind me and instantly I freeze.

  Dominic.

  The compliment, if that’s what it is, shocks me and makes me slosh the water in the glass I’m holding. I turn to face him. “What do you mean?” I reply because I have to, not because I want to.

  He looks out to the room and shrugs his chin. “This. You do it well. It suits you.”

  I have no idea what he’s talking about. My part? My role? My public display? If he knew the turmoil going on inside of me, would he still believe that? The compliment does make me feel better, despite how unsettling he is.

  “Thank you.” I’m grateful for his words, even if he does scare the hell out of me.

  “James doesn’t realize what an…asset you are,” he continues.

  Everyone is talking all around us and no one’s paying attention to our conversation. No one except Gringo. I can feel the weight of his stare from across the room, I can feel his pull even from here. His attention had been fixed on James, but nothing can break the connection we have.
/>   No one hears what Dominic is saying to me. How Dominic is saying it. That’s what makes my heart beat faster.

  “I’m not sure what you mean,” I comment in the most eloquent voice I can.

  He laughs. It’s soft and dark, and not really a laugh. “I’m sure you don’t.”

  I don’t respond because I don’t know what to say.

  “Quite an interesting mix of attendees,” he finally comments.

  I steal a glance at him finally. I’m coming to find out Dominic’s not a man of many words, but the words he does speak are loaded. I follow his gaze. When I see who he’s referring to, my breath hitches. Gringo’s eyes are now locked on him.

  “Friend of yours.” It’s not a question. Dominic’s penetrating eyes are fixed on me.

  Shit.

  “No. Just someone in town,” I’m sure my voice is nervous because he just cut me wide open.

  “I see.” He grins, but it’s the scariest smile I’ve ever seen.

  “Ladies and gentlemen,” the mayor is at the microphone and all conversation in the room stops.

  Thank God.

  I don’t hear anything that’s being said. I sit through the mayor’s droning. The audience claps and some whistle when he introduces James. I try to listen to what he’s saying, try to get an understanding as to what’s going on, but my nerves are a mess and my heart is pounding so loud, I can’t focus on anything but the sound. Nervously, my attention glides to Gringo, whose attention is still on Dominic. Dominic sits regally with almost a bored expression on his face. It’s a lie. The man is too ruthless to not take in every tiny detail of everything that’s happening around him.

  Finally, the luncheon is over. When the plates are taken away and people start to mingle again, both Gringo and Dominic are gone.

  I breathe a little easier.

  James is not quite as pleased.

  No doubt his business wasn’t finished with Dominic.

  His displeasure gives me pleasure in a small way.

  After the room is empty, James disappears.

  So do I.

  There are more questions that I need answers to.

  CHAPTER 5

  Gringo

  What a fucking circus.

  Everything and everyone in that room was all for show, staged to hide what was really happening behind the scenes. The question is who was the director? Who was the puppet master really pulling the strings? And what were they covering up? The bullshit recognition for James was only a deflection to distract people from what he was really doing.

  What the fuck is he doing?

  When I pull into my garage, my Porsche glides into the space as the door shuts behind me. I sit there for a moment going over the snapshots in my mind of every single face in that banquet room. When Sasha’s beautiful face comes into view, a mask of false propriety, a face for show, it’s like punch to my stomach.

  Jesus Christ, she’d told me how miserable she is, but seeing her like that is torture.

  I’d wanted to walk over to her and drag her out of there. Save her from whatever torment she’d been silently enduring. I know I’m supposed to keep my space, but fuck me, to see her like that makes me want to save her.

  She’s not mine to save.

  Then there’s the mission.

  “Fuck,” I hit the steering the wheel.

  Outside the garage, the sound of a motorcycle breaks into my private turmoil. I click the garage door remote again and get out of the car as the metal panel slides back up.

  Pulling the black helmet from his head, Bull’s already wearing a smirk. “I forgot how good you look in a monkey suit.”

  “Fuck off,” I mumble and walk towards the door to enter the house. I can hear Bull laughing as he follows behind me.

  “That much fun?” he asks as we step into my kitchen.

  My home is brand new. Well, it looks brand new and it seems like I’ve just moved in with just the bare necessities although I’ve lived here for years. Nothing to clutter the black granite counter tops, nothing on top of the glass dining room table, and there aren’t even any pictures hanging on the walls of the monochromatic black and white living room. No luxuries or indulgences. The house itself is gorgeous in a modern style with a white stone exterior and floor to ceiling blacked out windows. But it’s a shell. Like me.

  “On the surface, it was what you’d expect it would be.” I grab two beers from the refrigerator, “But everyone was acting like the little pecker James was the president of the United States.”

  Bull takes the beer I offer him. “From what I know, this deal he just wrangled was the best thing since sliced bread.”

  We each take a long drink from the bottles. I hold my hand up with the bottle and point at him, “What the fuck exactly do we know about this deal?”

  He furrows his brows. “Not as much as I’d like. There weren’t a lot of details, just a merger between some big fancy company overseas and a local track of land. The proposed purpose hasn’t been disclosed to the public yet.”

  A long pause passes as we stare at each other, neither of us content with the information we have. The silence is broken by the sound of the garage door opening. Again.

  “We’ve got company,” Bull grins.

  When I open the adjoining door, Sasha’s standing there with her closed fist raised ready to bang on the door. I grab her wrist and pull her inside.

  She’s stunned only momentarily. “What were you doing there?” She yells at me after she snaps to.

  Right now she’s the poster child of every person coming down from an adrenaline rush, a person who’s just shaken off the grip of shock.

  “Who do you think you’re yelling at?” I ask her quietly with my hand still clutching her wrist tightly.

  “Gringo,” she tries to shake herself free, “you can’t just show up at things like that and not warn me.” Her eyes are huge; a clear indication of the mental anguish she’s been going through. Seeing her like this is like an unexpected knife in my gut. I fucking ignore it. Then her gaze catches what I’m still wearing, the suit I’d attended the function in. Her eyes travel down my body as her arm relaxes in my grip.

  “You said you were scared. I want to find out why.” It’s the goddamn truth.

  Her eyes dart back to mine.

  I mean it, and I’ll do whatever it takes. I have to.

  “You do?” her words are barely a whisper.

  “Yes.”

  She raises her free hand and touches the cut on my lip. “What happened?”

  “Nothing.”

  I’m not going to tell her what happened at the Ink & Arms Expo, or the mission. She can’t know the real reason we’d gone, or what we really are. She won’t know what I’m doing now.

  Her expression is full of emotion, but not the same as she’d come in with. My entire body is rigid. For her.

  “Take your clothes off, Sasha.” I squeeze her wrist. Her mouth parts slightly to let the tip of her tongue peek out and swipe along her lower lip. “I want to watch Bull fuck you.” She sucks in a long breath as a flush creeps along her face and chest.

  Her gaze slides to Bull sitting in one of the dining room chairs.

  “Hey little lady. Been a rough day?” he asks with a genuine smile on his face.

  He likes Sasha. He saw through her bullshit spoiled brat façade like I did.

  I don’t like Sasha. And it pisses me off.

  “Yeah, not the best day.” She smiles a little timidly and shrugs her shoulder slightly.

  “Well, darlin’, we’ll make it better,” he grins. It’s filled with promises of his big cock and filthy things.

  I let her wrist free. “I’ve got some questions.” Her attention turns back to me. “I said. Take. Off. Your fucking. Clothes.” My voice is calm and steely as I pinch one of her nipples through her expensive jacket. She bites her lower lip.

  She begins to unbutton her pretty pink jacket. “What kind of questions?”

  The jacket is worn as a shirt with n
othing but a bra underneath. The sight of her voluptuous cleavage makes my dick throb.

  “First, why are you still dressed?”

  She clamps her mouth shut as her chest rises and falls in anticipation. She lets her jacket drop to the floor as she unzips her skirt and lets it pool at her feet, then she looks at me questioningly. I grip her bra on either side where it meets in the middle and tear it open, then yank her panties down her legs. She’s stunned. I want everything off of her, everything that made her what she was today, every reminder of what I saw in her face looking back at me. I don’t want any of that hurt and pain touching her. Placing a hand between her tits, I shove her back gently. Bull catches her as she lands in a heap on his lap. I crouch at her feet and pull her shoes off and throw them behind me, then tug her stockings down her legs. Gathering all of her clothes, I walk to the trash and deposit them.

  “What are you doing?” she asks breathlessly.

  “Today is gone.”

  Because I might the spawn of Satan, but I hated seeing her like that.

  She blinks at me, surprised and unsure. Then her face softens as a tear slips down her cheek.

  “Thank you,” she whispers.

  “Take out Bull’s cock, Sasha.”

  She stares at me as the command registers, trying to catch up with me. Then she settles herself in front of him on her knees between his massive thighs and opens his pants. He lifts his hips to let her pull them down his legs.

  “Everything. Take everything off him. We’re going to be a while.” She looks at me over her bare shoulder. “That’s right, doll. We’re going to fuck you until you can’t walk.”

  Her nipples tighten as she sucks in a breath.

  I’m going to take her pain away. If the only way I can do that is by fucking it out of her, then I’ll fuck her until it’s gone.