Radge by Esther E. Schmidt
CHAPTER FIVE
– MERIBETH –
The door swings open and I jump off the bed. Dammit. I never have been jumpy but being stuck in this room for days is getting to me. The people bringing me food knock before they enter but Ramsey just bursts inside as if he owns the place.
In reality he does because this room belongs to him. I know because I’ve gone through every inch of space, every drawer, and every cabinet. I’ve been wondering why he’s kept me in his room and where he has been sleeping since it’s clear it wasn’t in his own bed.
I glare at him while he gets ready to say something but his phone interrupts the both of us. He takes it from his pocket, looks at the screen before he jabs it and brings it to his ear. He grunts in a way of giving the other person a greeting and then listens while his eyes stay on me.
I expect him to spin around and leave but instead he lets me listen to a one-sided conversation as he starts to speak, “Hunter, thanks for the offer, brother. For now we’ve got things covered. Though, I just had a nice run-in with a certain mafia son and I’m sure his father won’t like the favor I gave his son. The same favor he gave my father. But we don’t give a shit, right?”
He releases a sinister chuckle and I can’t help but hold his stare. Did he just insinuate what I think he did? He killed Logan Bane’s son? Leith is dead? Holy fuck.
“Nah, keep your ass in sunny California. Yeah. Absolutely. Thanks.” He rumbles some more one word statements, ends the call and puts his phone away.
“You haven’t been eating,” he snaps, his gaze locked on the plate with the two slices of cold pizza.
I’m tempted to ask about his insinuation concerning Leith but I manage to keep my cool and simply shrug. “I don’t like leftover pizza multiple days in a row. Do I need to mention it’s served cold? Mafia princess or not, in reality I never complain about anything, but I do have my limits because that’s just gross. And who the hell knows what they did with it before it was smacked on a plate and thrown in this room.”
He pulls his phone out of his pocket again. “What do you prefer?”
I narrow my eyes and cross my arms in front of my chest. “Great, I’m getting a final meal, like the prisoners on death row? Why don’t you take that phone and be sure to shove it where the sun doesn’t shine.”
The corner of his mouth twitches. “I don’t make promises I can’t keep, but I can tell you that you’ll be in my bed a little while longer. So, just tell me what you like to eat and I’ll have it delivered for you.”
“I’m not hungry,” I snap.
I’m starving but that’s beside the point. Not to mention, it’s my freaking birthday and I want nothing more than to eat a freaking fried chicken sandwich, some fries, and ice cream as dessert. And I want to see my mom. I want to visit her, hug her close, and tell her how sorry I am about some of the things I said and did.
I raise my chin a nudge. “Why don’t you tell me how my mother is doing?”
“I didn’t realize I gave you other options than to give me a fucking food order,” he growls in a menacing tone and steps closer.
I stand my ground and tip my head back to keep glaring at him.
Taking a calming breath, I soften my tone and try to stop glaring when I ask the same thing yet somewhat differently. “Will you please tell me how my mother is doing? I was very angry when I left the house and said stuff I didn’t mean before the blast and she hit her head that knocked her out. The load of guilt I feel is a heavier weight, one I can’t seem to stomach.”
For the first time I see his face soften slightly. “She’s still alive and in the hospital.”
I release a sigh in relief. “Thank you.”
“She hit her head hard and they have kept her in a medically induced coma. They hope to pull her out tomorrow or the day after, if her vitals and shit are still strong and improving.”
I swallow hard and take a step back. Feeling the back of my knees hitting the bed, I let my ass hit the mattress. Staring dead ahead, I try to process what he just told me.
“The prospect who I ordered to take your mother to a hospital found out there was a gas leak near the time he brought your mom in. So, he said he found her on the street, unconscious. She’s been labeled as an innocent bystander and they are trying to find out who she is since she doesn’t have any identification on her. She’s in the right place for the moment, yeah? And the prospect is there to keep an eye on her and give me regular updates.”
She’s in the hospital because of me. She would have been in the house if I didn’t rush out. Now she’s oblivious to the world and might not be the same person she was if she gets out of the coma. Or worse; never wakes up.
“I need to see her,” I blurt and rise from the bed.
He gives a hard shake with his head. “Not happening.”
I bite my tongue and prevent myself from snarling an angry reply. His eyes light up as if he’s laughing at me and knows it takes effort to hold myself in check.
“Please,” I manage to say between clenched teeth.
He towers over me and slowly leans in to place his mouth next to my ear. “The answer is still no. But I might be persuaded if you offer me something special.”
The huskiness in his voice flows on a warm breath over my skin, pushing away the chill in the air and makes my body shiver with a foreign feeling. I know what he’s hinting at and the anger drains away the flush of what I think is desire from my body.
“Something special,” I echo.
He hums and I gasp when I feel one of his fingers trace the underside of my breast.
I shove his hand away from my body and take a step back. “I heard you mention easy pussy being available in an endless supply multiple times. So, sex or whatever it is you want to do between my legs isn’t anything special to you. It’s about principle. About vengeance. Striking your enemy where it hits hard, and in this war, you hold a piece you can break multiple ways so just go ahead and get it over with. Take me, kill me, so you can end it.”
“End it?” he barks and closes the distance, backing me up against the wall so I have nowhere to go but to face the angry man standing in front of me. “I have no desire to end this shit soon. I plan to spread out the wrath descending onto my enemies. They will endure long term torture by my hand.”
The venom in his voice and the viciousness and anger swirling in his eyes should be terrifying but instead I have only understanding. I would feel the exact same way if I would be standing in his shoes, and I’m sure my father would react the same way.
“As is your right,” I whisper and hold his hard stare.
His fingers slide around my throat, tightening enough to make me gasp and realize he holds the power to grant me my next breath or to take it away. Yet, with what he just mentioned I somehow hold no fear.
The way my father raised me, what I’ve seen and endured during my life growing up, I know his actions are granted. The weight this man carries on his shoulders is more than his own and each of us have a place in this world to fulfill and live up to.
His eyes search mine as if he’s trying to pull me apart and find out what I’m thinking. “What would you offer to save your own life?”
“My life is not the one I would want to save. My mother…my father…my–” I swallow hard and add on a croak, “My brothers.”
His thumb slides absently back and forth over my pulse. “You would give yourself up for your family.”
A statement, not a question. He knows the same loyalty because the man practically breathes it; it’s the reason I’m locked in here. It’s why he seeks revenge to lash out at those who wronged his family, his brotherhood.
“Not a bad idea,” he muses.
“What?” I whisper, distracted by my body’s reaction due to his closeness.
The scent of his leather cut mixed with a spicy, herbal, and woodsy fragrance adds to the overpowering presence his body envelops me with. I swallow hard at the thought of his hands on my body, his lips covering mine to give me my first kiss and so much more.
A self-assured smirk slides over his face. “I’m taking you.”
My body shivers in his grip. He did not just say that. And I can’t believe the thought process my body just went through. What the hell am I thinking? He’s the enemy.
“You already have me,” my Ramsey-fog induced brain replies.
“True,” he rumbles as his lips hover over mine.
My heart skips a beat at the thought of Ramsey kissing me but at the same time he tilts my head to the side. I feel his thumb slide over the pulse in my neck. I gasp when I feel his teeth nip my skin at the same spot the next instant.
A moan tumbles from my lips and when he sucks and bites down, the feeling overwhelms my senses. It’s as if he’s teasing the place between my legs, making heat pool low in my belly. No one and nothing has ever made me feel this way. Reaching out, I grab fistfuls of his leather cut to hold him in place.
His tongue licks away the assault on my neck and when he pulls back to stare at me, he catches me off guard when he asks, “When a woman in a mafia world becomes a wife, where does her loyalty lie? With her new husband? Or with her family?”
“What?” I ask in confusion.
His hand on my neck tightens and he pushes me harder against the wall at my back. “Where would your loyalty lie? Your husband or to your family?”
My heart slams against my chest. His dark rumble of words remind me of the situation I’m in; kidnapped by the man who seeks revenge for the unjustified loss they took. My mother’s words come back to me because this is not something my father taught me but what my mother mentioned loads of times.
I keep my eyes locked with his and recite the words I grew up to respect, “Once the vows are spoken my loyalty would lie with my husband.”
“Then you’ll become my wife,” he simply says and I can feel my eyes widen.
‘What?” I ask once more.
The self-assured smirk is back in place. “You heard me.”
“My father…he–” I start but he cuts me off.
“Your father doesn’t have a fucking choice in the matter. He’s the one with his balls on the line. And he should be fucking glad I’m taking you because Logan Bane is the one who really wants to marry you.”
“He’s almost fifty.” My nose wrinkles and then I realize how lame it sounds because that’s not the worst of the issues. “Bane doesn’t have any other sons so he would have to offer himself because you killed his son,” I add, to keep the discussion going and also get some direct answers.
“No, it was his plan all along to have you. Leith mentioned how you’re the one his father wanted as a wife so he could kill your father and keep the connection with your family overseas to take possession of the weapon pipelines himself.”
“Fucking asshole,” I seethe.
Tightening my hands in his leather cut, I lean my forehead against his chest to catch my breath. I can feel his fingers leave my throat and grab my shoulder to bring some space between us. Maybe he thinks I’m breaking down again but the truth is; I am pissed.
Shaking him with the grip I have on his leather cut, I growl, “You can’t let him get away with it. You have to tell my father. Fuck. He’s done it before. Logan Bane has attempted to assassinate my father for the same damn reason once in the past. He managed to kill my uncle with that attempt. My father lost half his leg and he knew it was Bane’s men who did it, they had the initiation tattoo of Bane on their forearm. It’s also why he didn’t wanted anything to do with that family.”
“And yet that fucker still accepted a capo of Bane into his home to do the negotiating,” Ramsey states.
“He didn’t know Dara was lying because Rory forced her to,” I snap in my father’s defense. “He was only trying to save his family from a situation he was pulled into.”
His fingers wrap around my throat once more, his nose is touching mine as he snarls, “If you’re my old lady.”
“I wouldn’t have defended my father but would have mentioned how my father still could have picked up the fucking phone any damn time and talked to you. Even if you had all the right to hang up on him, but still. And in my defense? Being your old lady or not? I fought for you guys: fought for what was right, before I ended up here with you so don’t give me any lip about what I should or shouldn’t do if I was your old lady. I value loyalty and respect and honor honesty along with it.”
He snorts and takes a few steps back. “So, if I inform your father about the fact you’re staying with me indefinitely, you would keep your ass inside this clubhouse even if all the doors are unlocked and you could walk right out?”
I keep my eyes locked on his. “I would give you my word my loyalties would lie with you. Fully and without regret. If you give me your word to not harm my family in any way.”
“I won’t retaliate for what he did up till now. But if he comes for you, I will protect what’s mine,” he warns.
The way he gave me that warning should make my heart sink with fear for my father except it skips a beat by the fierce protectiveness he just mentioned by telling me I am his. I am absolutely crazy for letting that thought cross my mind. Because for him I’m merely a possession he wants to protect.
Stockholm syndrome for sure but on the other hand, the man in front of me is fierce, has not held back when it comes to information, listens to me, actually pulls me into a discussion, and values my input.
I give him a tight nod along with a firm, “Understood.”
Ramsey grabs his phone, jabs the screen, and orders me, “Not a single word from you unless I say so.”
I hear my father pick up the phone and bark, “My wife and daughter better still be alive.”
Ramsey’s eyes meet mine and I can tell he can see the sadness in mine due to what he mentioned about my mother.
He gives me a curt shake and tells my father, “I’m letting you know your daughter’s hand in marriage belongs to me. Logan Bane can shove his dream to wed Meribeth himself up his ass for all I care but he’s not getting the tie-in he wants: she belongs to me now.”
My father stays silent for a few breaths until he says, “How do you know he wanted my daughter for himself?”
“Leith might have mentioned some interesting details.” Ramsey holds my gaze and adds, “He confessed to Rory being at the scene when we were meeting for the weapon transfer. He also mentioned Rory was the one who fired the bullet that killed my father.”
My lips part in shock and a hint of relief to hear they have gained a sliver of truth that my father was set up too.
“And what made all hell break loose,” my father mutters and releases a few curses before he adds, “No wonder I couldn’t find out who pulled the trigger, that fucker was out of sight,” more to himself than to Ramsey.
“A line is drawn. You and I, right here, right now,” Ramsey tells him. “If you cross it after today, I’ll put a fucking bullseye on your back again, understood?”
“What about Bane?” my father asks, ignoring what Ramsey just said.
“Not your concern. He will get what’s coming to him,” Ramsey grunts.
“Can I talk to my daughter? Is she there with you?”
Ramsey holds my stare and I keep my lips sealed shut. I feel like this is some sort of test since he ordered me not to say a word.
“Also not your concern anymore: your daughter belongs to me now,” he rumbles and jabs the screen to end the call.
Shoving his phone away he takes a step closer to tower over me. Tipping my head back, I meet his menacing stare.
“Ready to be claimed?”
I wonder what he means by this because normally, with an arranged marriage, there’s an agreement between the fathers. The woman gets a ring on her finger and a date is set so the mother can start to arrange the things for the upcoming wedding.
I can feel my eyes narrow when I notice his pupils dilate and his nostrils flare. “What should I be ready for?”
“I don’t have a clue how those suits in your world claim their women, except for the showing of the bloody sheets after the wedding night, but in my world? The claiming part involves filling your body with my cock while my brothers give me a hand.”
For the first time a sliver of fear fills my veins. Horrified, I start to sputter, “You…you guys share women on your wedding night?”
He barks out a laugh and slowly shake his head but tells me, “We do share women, but not old ladies. And this isn’t a wedding night or some dressed in white, wrapped with flowers, taking place in church shit. Well, it will be happening in church, just a different one.”
His whole demeanor pushes the fear inside me away and replaces it with anger and disgust.
“Then why did you mention how your brothers will give you a hand?” I snap.
“Backing out already?” he taunts, deflecting my question.
My heart is slamming against my ribs. I should be scared, should question my sanity, but in this moment there’s only resistance and the need to show I’m not some scared and delicate girl. I am my father’s daughter.
Ramsey and I made a deal, one I will uphold to make sure my family stays safe and vengeance is dealt with correctly to those who are responsible. Leaning forward, I rise up on my toes and give him a feisty glare.
“Never,” I tell him with determination. “I will uphold my end of our deal like you will uphold yours.”
“This is going to be fun,” he mutters. The corner of his mouth twitches. “Well, come on then. Let’s count the seconds until you’re a virgin no more, shall we?”
His fingers wrap around my upper arm and he guides me toward the door. I keep my head high and my strength up. Fear doesn’t hold a place in this moment and somehow this doesn’t feel like I’m the sacrificial lamb.
Excitement pulses through me and the words my father once told me enter my brain; “You’re worthy of a great leader, and time will tell who this man will be.”
And in this moment, my gut tells me Ramsey is a great leader. He might be an arrogant, ruthless asshole, but he did hear me out and handles things in his own way. He brought my mother to the hospital and talked to me about the deal before laying it on my father. His actions up till now give me the gut feeling this man is a good match for me.
Even if I hate his guts. I guess every arranged marriage doesn’t involve love because that emotion is lost in a world tainted with crimson.
