To Have & to Hurt by Morgan Bridges
Violetta
Iwas right about Tristano: he can draw his gun faster than I can blink.
Beni as well, but he’s not the one in charge and giving orders. However, he is the one protecting me, so I won’t discount his importance.
The tension inside the plane is slow to dissipate. Even my pulse still thrums speedily, despite the weapons having been stowed away in their holsters and Octavia retreating to the private room in the back.
I grab the unopened water bottle to give myself something else to focus on, and because I’m thirsty. My throat has been parched for a while, but my pride wouldn’t allow me to pantomime my need for something to drink.
And my mind wouldn’t allow me to use my tongue.
Sometimes I think I’ve lost the ability to speak altogether. Logically, that’s ridiculous and I’ve berated myself over the idiotic notion, but it still resurfaces here and there.
Until Carina came back to me, I never wanted to talk to anyone. What would I say to my father that wouldn’t earn me a barrage of threats? What could I say to my mother that wouldn’t guarantee her treachery by siding with my father, claiming he’s just doing what’s best for the family? And what would I say to myself that wouldn’t make me want to leap from the nearest window in despair?
Words are powerful.
My refusal to speak, even more so.
I chose to be silent, which revealed my inner fortitude and gave me a way to rebel that wouldn’t result in my death. Carina experienced more punishment from the things she said in comparison to the outcomes of my silence. More importantly, when someone speaks, they give the person listening a glimpse into their mind, or even their soul.
No one has a right to that knowledge unless I decide to give it to them.
The stewardess makes an appearance once again and notifies us of the entertainment available in the way of movies and games located on the tablets she hands to us, along with a pair of earbuds. What I really want is food, not fun, but I’m still not willing to voice my needs. Especially to strangers. It looks as though I’ll have to find a way to force myself to speak soon or my stomach will do it for me.
Who would’ve thought my vow of silence would be conquered by something as basic as the desire for sustenance?
I could write down my requests, but that feels like defeat in a way. It was easy to stay quiet at my parents’ house since they fed me at regular intervals and my basic needs were met without me having to say anything. With Tristano and Benito, I’ll just have to wait for them to eat…
Stubbornness, not silence, will be the death of me.
With a tiny sigh, I reach for the tablet and swipe the screen with my fingers. It lights up and the various icons stare at me. I put on the earbuds and tap the movie app, then scroll through the various titles. My curiosity is piqued when I come across 365 Dni. The description of a handsome and ruthless Italian man kidnapping a woman he’s obsessed with in order to make her fall in love with him sounds over the top ridiculous. But I select it anyway, ignoring the warning for sex, nudity, and violence.
I’ll be a legal adult of eighteen in a few days time, but mentally I’ve been an adult for a long time.
The beginning scenes of the movie are filled with danger and the father of the main male character dies after being shot. I vaguely wish this would happen to my father, but I’ve had no such luck. Massimo, the son, is also wounded and almost dies. During what he believes are his final moments alive, he envisions a woman he briefly saw on a nearby beach.
It’s shaping up to be a typical cheesy film, but the main woman, who’ll eventually be taken, masturbates. I tilt my head and study this part from a pure intellectual standpoint. I’ve touched myself several times before, but I don’t think I’ve ever had as much of an exhilarating experience as her. Maybe it’s over exaggerated.
Or maybe I didn’t do it right.
I’m thinking heavily on this when the lead male in the movie ends up alone with a flight attendant and she starts giving him head. I blink my widened eyes.
It looks real. And so hot.
“What are you watching?”
Beni’s voice startles me and I let out a tiny squeak right before fumbling with the tablet and shutting down the screen. He grins at me and his eyes are sparkling with mischief.
“I was beginning to think you were mute, but you sounded like a chew toy for a dog just now.”
I make a face at him and he laughs. It draws everyone’s attention and the weight of their stares crush me. My cheeks heat at the very thought of Beni announcing what I was watching. It’s nothing to be ashamed of, but my lack of experience in sexual matters only makes the topic awkward for me.
I’m not a sultry vixen with the confidence of a woman in her prime.
“If you like that scene, then you’ll really like the one on the yacht.” He winks at me and laughs again when I huff, my face scrunching all the more. He lowers his voice and leans just the tiniest bit closer. “I saw how you were glued to the screen, but don’t worry, it’ll be our little secret.”
Beni is what I imagine having a brother would be like: Older, playful, and gives you a hard time for no other reason than to amuse himself.
Tristano clears his throat in what I suspect is a nonverbal warning to Berni. Or maybe even me, although I haven’t done anything wrong. I turn my head and meet Tristano’s gaze. The gray of his eyes is the color of thunderclouds right before they unleash a torrential downpour. In his case, it’d be censure, not rain.
He’s not someone I’d picture as an older brother.
There’s no way he’s the same age as my father, who’s in his fifties, but Tristano is definitely a lot older than me. And old enough to be my father… Thinking of him as my dad quickly evolves into daddy, and that brings about a sexual connotation I didn’t intend.
But now it won’t leave.
The image of Massimo standing over the flight attendant as she takes his cock into her mouth floods my mind and I nearly squirm in my seat because of the immediate effect it has on me. Then the vision morphs, depicting me as the woman on my knees before a powerful man, who stares down at me with a sterling silver gaze. My sex dampens, and that visceral reaction has me sucking in a breath.
From mere yards away, Tristano quirks a brow in a silent inquiry and my flushed face heats all the more. In that simple gesture he’s asking what it is that I find so interesting. Or it could be him wondering why I’m staring at him.
There’s no way in hell I’m answering either question, verbally or otherwise.
I avert my gaze and fix it on the tablet. After unlocking the screen, I select a game. Tetris is harmless, non-sexual, non-orgasmic, and won’t draw unwanted attention to me.
“I challenge you to a duel,” Beni says. He tilts his tablet which enables me to see Tetris loading on the screen. Then he grabs mine, taps it several times, and hands it back to me. “The setting is on challenge mode, so whenever you clear the lines it’ll stack on my screen. I’m assuming you know how this game works?”
My expression conveys my exasperation and he chuckles.
“Just so you know, I’m pretty good at this game.” Beni waggles his brows at me. “I have a sharp mind and amazing dexterity.”
I roll my eyes. It’s one of the few times I’ve done something other than stare blankly or nod, and it’s…nice. Another step toward normalcy I guess. Somehow this made man, who was probably inducted into the mafia by killing someone at an early age, disarms me with his silliness.
“You’ll see here shortly,” he says. “May the best man or woman win.”
The music begins and the first shape appears on my screen, stealing my focus. I hone in on the game and a sense of excitement flows through me, making my blood rush through my veins. I think it’s an endorphin rush from having someone to compete with or it could be that I’m doing something enjoyable, which is relieving a portion of the built-up stress that’s accumulated during the past couple days.
Whatever the reason, I do my best.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Beni exhales and furiously taps the screen. “I just got rid of a section and you’re already sending shit my way.”
My lips twitch as a smile threatens to take over. I press them together to repress it, but when Beni starts cursing in Italian, calling the game a bigger waste than “a hole you can’t fuck,” I can’t hold it back. The smile feels strange at first and then becomes more natural with every slur he mutters.
“Son of a whore,” he grits out, his forehead scrunched in concentration. “Cock sucking bitch nuts. ”
I clear out another large chunk of lines and send it over to him, feeling triumphant. Beni yells at the tablet and then slams it on the couch.
“This is such fucking bullshit. You cheated.”
I’m smiling when I shake my head and I hold the device up so he can see I haven’t done anything unethical.
“Whatever,” he mumbles. “When I don’t feel like slamming my fist against the wall, we’re going at it again. And don’t you dare practice between now and then. Go back to your porn.”
I shrug, my smirk still in place, and he winks at me.
“Benito.”
Both of us swing our heads in Tristano’s direction at the sound of his voice. Beni gets to his feet to walk over and sit in Octavia’s unoccupied seat. Tristano leans forward and places his forearms on his thighs, his mouth pulled tight at the corners. Although I can’t see Beni’s face, I can make out the stiffening of his shoulders from the tension that just appeared.
A brief conversation passes between the two men, with Tristano doing most of the talking, and when it’s over Beni resumes his spot next to me.
“You got me in trouble, missy,” he whispers. Before I can respond, Tristano calls my name. Beni winks at me and says, “I guess we’re both going to the principal’s office today, huh?”
I give him a quick nod and make my way over to seat myself in front of Tristano. He hasn’t moved from his position and his proximity to me is unnerving. I clasp my hands together and rest them in my lap, waiting for whatever lecture he’s going to give me.
“How old are you?”
The question from him is like a slap to the face, catching me off guard. I blink rapidly as though I don’t understand, but in reality it’s because I’m confused as to why he’s asking. What does my age matter to him? It’s not as though it’s a prerequisite to keeping me alive.
He cocks his head and the intensity of his stare grows. I almost squirm in my seat because of the nervousness skittering through me but catch myself. I don’t want him, or anyone else, to know what I’m feeling. If they know, they can exploit it.
“Did you hear me?” he asks. Whether or not Tristano realizes it, he leans toward me again, putting him even closer. Too close.
I slowly nod.
He narrows his gaze, the silver in his eyes bright like newly minted coins. “Then why aren’t you answering me, Violetta?”
My throat goes dry, prompting me to swallow and his focus shifts to the column of my throat. Only it doesn’t return to my eyes. Instead, it lowers to drift past the expanse of my breasts, my stomach, and then stops at my thighs. This time the urge to squirm is too great and I can’t stop it. Tristano snaps his gaze back to mine.
The liquid silver of them resplendent with ardor.
“Do you have the ability to speak?” he asks.
Facing this question is something I’ve been concerned about ever since Carina left me in Tristano’s care. Do I lie and save myself the trouble of communicating since I have no reason to speak to anyone? Or will it be worse if he were to find out that I lied?
I’m of little importance to him and a temporary responsibility, so whether or not I talk shouldn’t be a big deal. Tristano will eventually get over my abnormal behavior just like everyone else. Because of this reasoning, I nod my head.
“Interesting,” he says, drawing out the word. “It would appear that you only respond to yes or no questions.”
My heart stutters in my chest at the implication he’s going to circumvent my decision for silence. Even answering a single inquiry could open up the passageway for more questions and that’s not something I want to go through. Because it’ll ultimately lead back to why I went quiet in the first place.
And I try not to ever think about that.
When I do, it’s like someone’s put a vise around my throat and the pressure is so great that if I speak, the very breath needed to produce sound will choke me. It happened when I saw Carina after two years, first at our father’s house and then again at our cousin’s wedding. Both times I thought I would pass out just from seeing her. She is the trigger for my fear.
And Ugo, if I ever see him.
Except I’d shoot him; hopefully as fast as Tristano could.
He extends his arm to lightly trail his fingertips down the side of my face and I can’t prevent the widening of my eyes or the fierce pounding of my heart. I could pull away, but something that simple wouldn’t stop a man like Tristano. Octavia said it best: he’s direct and formidable.
I don’t stand a chance against him.
My skin comes to life under his touch, like he’s shocking me with the barest of electrical currents, leaving me tingling. Only the sensation spreads and manipulates the rest of my body, not just my face. My nipples harden, my breaths quicken, and my sex pulses. This worries me more than him demanding that I talk.
Because he could demand other things I wouldn’t be as opposed to…
He continues to drag his fingers past my jawline and down the side of my neck to skim the front of my throat. Then he takes my chin in hand between his thumb and index finger, keeping me in place.
“I don’t need to hear your voice in order to have your acquiescence,” he says, “but what I won’t tolerate is your refusal to communicate in any fashion. So when I ask you something and I don’t receive an answer, you can anticipate that I’ll force it from you by any means necessary.”
He’s so close that the breath carrying his words brushes against my lips and I lick them, wondering what it tastes like, other than the hint of a delicious minty flavor.
“Nod if you understand,” Tristano says. When I do he doesn’t release me like I expect. Instead, he spreads his fingers to grip my jaw, the warm metal of his ring pressing against my skin. “And one more thing. Don’t try to fuck any of my men or the ones we come into contact with. Benito and the others don’t need you to distract them and I don’t need you to cause trouble just because you’ve decided to act like a whore. Hai capacito?”
Even though I try not to react, my lips part on a gasp, one that I wish I could mold into curses and insults. The urge to tell Tristano what an asshole he is nearly burns a hole in my tongue when I don’t voice the thought, but he’s not worth speaking to. I haven’t been silent all this time to waste words on someone like him.
His gaze falls to my mouth and flares with heat. Seeing that gives me the strength I need and I jerk my face away, out of his grasp. Tristano looks at my lips for a second longer before his eyes are fastened on mine.
“That show of rebellion,” he says, his tone deathly quiet, “will be the first and last from you that I’ll allow. If you decide to test me on this, Violetta, you’ll quickly abandon your silence in order to beg for mercy or scream from pleasure. Whichever comes first.”