Stolen Mafia Bride by Mae Doyle
Tess
Ijust want to lie here forever and never have to move again. I’ve given up.
All of my life I’ve been a fighter. I fought in terrible foster homes, I fought to go to college and stay on scholarship even when I didn’t have a good support system in place. I fought to get my job, to get my shitty apartment, to try to save even two pennies to rub together.
That last part is almost impossible. Every month I write a check and mail it off, knowing full well that I could use that money. The money I pay could change my life but I send it anyway, not even knowing what happens to it once it arrives.
It disappears from my account, that part I know. I never hear from the recipient, never get acknowledgement that it got there. Just silence. And I know that if I want to keep it that way, want to keep them from reaching out to me, that I have to keep sending that check.
But I can’t do that anymore. There’s no way for me to send money—or even make money. I can’t even get clothes for myself and so it’s best if I just lie here and die.
I want to die.
So many times in my life I’ve thought that, but each time I managed to fight my way out of it. I somehow was able to keep those thoughts from becoming ones that I acted on.
A loud bang rips me from these musings but I don’t even bother to turn my head to see what caused it. It doesn’t really matter, does it? I’m supposed to send off a check soon and I’m not going to be able to. Everything that I’ve worked so hard and paid so much money to keep from happening is going to happen anyway, and I’m at a loss of how to stop it.
“Tess!” The voice is loud and the next thing I know, I’m being scooped up into strong arms. I feel snuggled close to a chest and I realize with a start that it’s Marcelo. He came back for me. I can hear the panic in his voice as he calls my name, but I still don’t respond.
Everything just seems too hopeless.
Instead of answering, I turn my head into his chest, snuggling silently closer to him. He smells delicious and I breathe him in, letting his scent flow through me. A girl could get used to the way that he smells—like strength and desire—but I’m not any girl, and I sure as hell can’t get used to my kidnapper.
The next thing I know, I’m on a soft bed. Marcelo leans over me, concern written all over his face, and pulls the blankets up under my chin. He tucks me in like I’m a little kid and presses the back of his hand to my forehead.
“Tess, are you okay? Do I need to call a doctor?”
I want to tell him not to, but my tongue feels too big for my mouth. Instead of answering him, I just close my eyes, exhaling hard. It feels really good to be warm and comfortable again. I thought for sure that I was going to die on that mattress.
I should have known that he wouldn’t let me.
He brushes hair back from my forehead, bending down to really look at me. “Tell me what you need, Tess. I’ll do it.”
I should answer him, I know that I should, but I don’t think that I can right now. Instead of responding, I turn and snuggle deeper under the covers. Hiding here isn’t going to make everything bad go away for ever and ever, but it’s a hell of a lot better than facing it head-on right now.
* * *
“She’s in shock.” A woman’s voice cuts through the dream that I was having and even though part of me thinks I should respond, I don’t want to. It’s the first time in my life that I can just lie in bed without any repercussions and I’m enjoying it. I like the warm feeling of the blankets, too.
I like knowing that nobody expects me to do anything for the time being. I’m well aware that it will all come crashing down on my head when that check doesn’t get sent, but I honestly can’t do anything about that right now. So I’m not going to worry about it, because worrying about it won’t help one bit.
“What can I do?” Marcelo’s deep rumbling voice finds its way into my bones. He’s in me, the vibrations that his voice make almost comforting. I want him to speak again, but the woman responds.
“Keep her warm. Keep her safe. Don’t expect too much of her right now. If she acts out, call me. If she spikes a fever, call me.” She pauses and I strain to hear what she’s going to say next. “It wouldn’t be a bad idea for her to talk to someone.”
“No.” Marcelo sounds almost angry. “I can handle anything that she has going on. Thanks for coming by, doctor.”
There’s a shuffling sound that must be the doctor leaving. A moment later the edge of the bed shifts and I can practically feel the heat from Marcelo’s body radiating from him as he sits down next to me. The desire to turn my head and look at him is almost overwhelming. If nothing else, I want to shift closer to him so that I can feel more of that heat.
I should be afraid of him and doing my best to escape from this bedroom right now, but I’m just so damned tired. My entire life I’ve been running and trying to protect myself. For once, I just want to be able to stop.
It probably sounds stupid, but I really want someone to take care of me for a change. It probably won’t ever happen, but it’s a nice idea. I like the thought of having someone at my side to help me fight my battles.
I’ve just never found anyone that I could trust to do that. Everyone wants something from you, but there are very few people in this world who are willing to go out of their way to help you. I’m so tired of the take, take, take without any give in return.
“Tess?” Marcelo’s voice is gentle and I want to look at him and talk to him, but I don’t. Instead, I snuggle down even deeper in the blankets and do my best to pretend that nothing in my life is wrong.
And then I fall asleep.
