Claimed Mafia Bride by Mae Doyle
Jane
Idon’t know where I am.
The only thing that I do know right now is that I’m in pain. It cuts through me like a knife, searing and hot, and I have to suck in tiny breaths through my parted lips to keep from screaming out. I won’t scream, won’t give them the pleasure of knowing how badly they’re hurting me.
I have no idea what they want from me, but I have a feeling that I do know who they are.
The Wicked Bastards. The motorcycle club that Trevor tried to warn me about and I just dismissed out of hand. Hot tears spring to my eyes as I think about how I dismissed him and how badly I wish that I could go back in time and undo what I just did.
It’s not for me. I’d die a thousand deaths if that was what it took for me to save Annie. She’s everything to me—my entire life and soul—and the thought of anything bad happening to her is enough to make me wish myself dead.
But as easy as that out would be right now, I can’t take it. Can’t let myself go until I know for sure if she’s okay or not. I have to be sure that she’s alive, that she’s safe. She’s the only thing keeping me going right now.
That thought in mind, I strain against my restraints, biting down hard on my lower lip as they cut into my flesh. It hurts like a fucker, but they don’t give.
Handcuffs circle my wrists and my ankles but my legs and arms are strapped tightly to my body with thick rope that’s itchy and so tight I can feel each beat of my heart throughout my body. I’m flat on my back on a hard table, tied completely down so that I can’t move anything but my mouth.
But I’m not going to scream or cry out. I refuse to give them that, to let them take that from me. Even though every part of my body aches, and even though I want the pain to stop, I refuse to give them that satisfaction.
It’s dark in the room I’m in and my eyes are open. A small sliver of light comes from under a door to my right and I have my face turned in that direction so that I can try to see as much as I can. As I watch, the door suddenly swings open, throwing a bright shaft of light on my face and I suck in a breath, clamping my eyes shut as quickly as possible.
Too slow. It’s going to take me a moment to recover from looking right into the light and I squeeze them tightly shut, trying to work focus the pain. Footsteps approach me and someone leans over me, blowing cool air across my bare arms.
Goosebumps spring to attention and I grit my teeth, refusing to react to them.
“So you’re the woman Trevor Bonanno likes to fuck, but doesn’t care enough about to stash away somewhere where you’ll be safe, huh?” The voice is low and tight with a bit of a rasp like this man has smoked a pack a day for years. I sniff the air and I’m not surprised to smell a thick cloud of smoke hanging over him.
It’s disgusting.
Refusing to answer, I keep my eyes shut, but when he reaches out and grabs my chin, forcing me to look at him, my eyes fly open.
I’m still half blind from the burst of light a moment ago, but as I stare at him, he slowly comes into view. Well, most of him. He’s backlit by the door behind him but I can still see his outline. I can see the shadows of the depressions in his cheeks and how dark his eyes are, almost like they disappear into his face.
“What’s your name, whore?” His voice washes over me, making me feel filthy even though he’s barely touching me and I want to pull away from him, but he’s squeezing my chin so tightly that his fingers are pressing hard into my flesh. There’s no way that I could possibly get away from him right now, and even though I don’t want to answer him, I know that I don’t have a choice.
“Jane,” I manage somehow, even though my throat is dry and it feels like all of the moisture has been sucked out of my body. My voice was so quiet that I’m not sure if he heard me at first, so I speak again. “My name is Jane.”
“Plain fucking Jane. What the fuck is so special about you that you capture the eye of Trevor Bonanno?” He lets go of my chin, but roughly, so that I suck in a breath as pain shoots through me. Slowly and lightly, like he’s almost afraid of touching me, the man traces his fingers down my body.
I’m as still as possible as he drags them down my chest, slips them over my side, then finally rests them on my thigh. Panic courses through me, but it’s not the type of panic that makes you make a run for it. Rather, I feel stuck in place, like I’m in quicksand out in the middle of the forest and there isn’t any way for me to get out.
Fighting it will only make it worse, I’m sure of that, so I lay perfectly still, doing my best to keep breathing even though it feels like each breath in to fill my lungs is more painful than the last.
“Maybe I should find out what’s so special about you and that little cunt you have,” he tells me. This time, when hot tears spring to the corners of my eyes, I can’t blink them back. I don’t even try, I’m so scared. My eyes are open as I stare at the ceiling, but there simply isn’t any way for me to stop them from running down my cheeks.
They feel like rivers, so obvious on my skin that I’m sure he’ll comment on me crying, but he doesn’t. He simply fingers the bottom of my skirt and I hold my breath, trying to force my mind away from here.
This isn’t happening to me. It can’t be happening to me. It’s a nightmare, one that I’m sure to wake from any moment now. I should have listened to Trevor, and next time I will.
If I get a next time.
The man’s fingers shove up the inside of my thighs, but I’m strapped so tightly to the table, my legs pressed so hard together, that he can’t get any farther than just above my knees without running into a rope. He grunts in annoyance and pulls his fingers back then leans over me, his face so close to mine that I feel his breath.
And smell it. I’m sure that I’m going to piss him off, but I can’t help wrinkling my nose and turning a little bit away from him. I can’t stand his smell or the way he acts like he owns me.
“I’ll get you out of these ropes soon enough, Jane,” he tells me, flecking my cheek with his spit. “And then you and are I going to have some fun, what do you say about that? Think that you’ll open up your legs and show me what it is that has Trevor so enamored with you, but not so in love with you that he’s willing to keep you safe?’
“Fuck you,” I spit out, jerking my head back so I can face him. He has no idea that Trevor tried to save me, tried to get me to move from our house, but there’s no way in hell that I’m going to say that to him. This asshole doesn’t deserve anything, and when Trevor finds me, he’ll kill him. “I can’t wait to see Trevor cut your balls off and feed them to you.”
“Oh, she’s a comedian!” The man laughs, pulling back from me and taking most of his stench with him. I suck in a grateful breath while he laughs, but this his voice turns low again and he leans back over me. “I’m glad that you have so much faith in your fuck buddy, Jane, but he didn’t want to save you before, and I have a good fucking feeling that he’s not going to do it now. You might have a magic cunt, but pussy is pussy and he’ll move on.”
Then, just as quickly as he appeared, he leaves, slamming the door hard behind him. I try to stifle a sob, but it wrenches out of me anyway, filling the room with its sound. There’s an ache in my body when I think about sweet Annie and I want to curl on my side and hold myself as I cry, but I can’t move.
All I can do is lay here and hope that Trevor finds me before that man comes back and takes off my ropes.
