Baby for the Beast Read online

  “I don’t think she likes you,” Luke notes. He helps himself to a glass from the bar by the kitchen and pours himself a drink.

  My private room here isn't too extravagant. It has great views, expensive furnishings, and a sleek, modern vibe, but I didn't want to crowd my club by eating up too much of the square footage for a personal refuge, so it favors creative uses of space and smaller rooms oversize.

  “You can call it whatever you want,” I say. “But you’ll be taken care of. You’ll be fed well, and no one will hurt you.”

  “Unless your dad doesn’t cooperate,” Luke says with a sinister look for Neela.

  I step to Luke until I loom over him, fingers itching for his throat. I may not have spelled it out for the guys yet, but they should have enough brain cells to rub together to figure it out on their own. If I’m not taking Neela to my father, then she’s not getting hurt. End of story. “I’ll make this clear one time.” I look to Chase and Niko, making sure they understand I’m talking to them too. “Neela is mine. My hostage,” I add a little too slowly. “Any of you fuckers try to scare her or intimidate her and you’re going to have a problem. I don’t care how much history we have. My father isn’t going to hurt her, and if anyone has an issue with that, they can fuck off.”

  “Loud and clear,” Chase says with a solemn nod.

  Niko nods.

  Luke waits long enough to make sure I know he’s defiant, but not long enough for me to call him on it, then nods his head. “Got it, boss.”

  8

  Neela

  Enzo and his “crew” are lounging around the TV eating Chinese takeout like it’s the most normal night in the world. My own lo mein is sitting untouched in front of me while The Fault in Our Stars plays on the TV—oddly enough, the movie was Luke’s pick.

  I have the strangest sense of being in a dream, like none of what has happened since I met Enzo at the restaurant could really hold up as truth if I looked close enough. On the one hand, there's an undeniable thrill to all of this. It's obviously dangerous, and these men are clearly not the kind of men I ever would've pictured myself spending time with, but Enzo has managed to make me feel protected. I'm in the middle of a strange, unfamiliar storm, but he's the shelter around me—strong and unwavering. So long as I trust what he has told me. But this is exactly the kind of thing I’ve secretly wished for. Okay, I never thought to wish for this precisely, but I’ve lived a safe, boring life. It’s comfortable, but to call anything about my life exciting would be a stretch.

  On the other hand… A very big part of me would rather just crawl back into my boring, comfy life where I could read a book on my comfy spot on the couch.

  “You need to eat,” Enzo says.

  I startle a little at the sound of his voice. He hasn’t taken his eyes off me since we got here, and I’m growing more certain by the minute that he’s actively trying to make sure the other guys don’t interact with me too much.

  “Sorry,” I say, taking a bite to appease him. “My appetite is off, I guess.”

  He makes a grumbling sound. “I can send Chase to pick you something else up,” he suggests.

  Chase raises an eyebrow slightly, as if to say, oh sure, I'd love to play errand boy again. He doesn't voice his annoyance though. The group of men feels very much like a pack of wolves to me. They're all fierce and wild in their own ways, but Enzo is the alpha male, and he rules over them with power and force of will alone.

  I can’t even say he’s the kind of guy I always tried to avoid, because I’ve never seen a guy like him. I’ve seen bad boys. They wear edgy clothes, walk around glaring at everybody, and maybe even ride motorcycles. But the only real bad thing about them is they’re assholes. Enzo though?

  If I can look past the whole kidnapping thing, which I grudgingly might have to do if he’s telling the truth, Enzo hasn’t actually been that bad to me. He hasn’t been a saint, by any stretch, but he has been making sure I’m comfortable and he is keeping the other guys from harassing me, at least.

  “No,” I say, shooting down the idea of sending Chase out for more food. “I’ll be fine. Really. I ate at the restaurant, anyway” I force down another bite to get him to ease off a little. “Wait a second,” I say, feeling guilty that the idea is only now occurring to me. “You said you were doing this to protect me, but what about my sister and my dad? Are they in danger too?”

  "No," Enzo says. His voice is firm, confident. "My father didn't care which sister we picked up, and your father is valuable to him because he thinks he has the leverage to manipulate him. So long as my father thinks he has you in his hands, your sister and your father are safe."

  “What about after?” I ask.

  “That’s part of what I’m going to have to figure out.”

  I nod my head, not feeling very comforted, but sensing that Enzo really will do his best to figure something out. “Could I talk to them?” I ask a little sheepishly.

  He shakes his head. “Not a good idea. If this drags on longer than I think it will, I’ll find a way to get you in touch with them, but for now, it’s best to just make something up. You’ll need to call your work too. Tell them you have a fever or something.”

  “I talk to my sister every day,” I say. “If she doesn’t hear from me, she’s going to start some kind of search party.”

  Enzo considers a few moments. “You can call whoever you need to keep them from worrying, but I’m going to listen in. Fair?”

  I nod my head.

  After dinner, Luke stays on the couch to finish the movie. Niko left to go “partake” in the party raging just outside Enzo’s private living area inside the club, and Chase pulls out a sketchbook to scribble at something off in the corner.

  Enzo follows me into the kitchen, where I go to look for a drink of water. He wordlessly helps me by snagging a glass from the cabinet and filling it up for me.

  “Thanks,” I say quietly, leaning back against the fridge while the sound of the TV and the muffled thump of music from the club creates oddly calming background noise. “You guys aren’t what I would’ve expected,” I say.

  Enzo looks to Luke and Chase, nodding. "None of us are that different. It's just the way our lives point us early on." He folds his arms and leans his shoulder against the wall, eyes distant and thoughtful. "Luke came from a wealthy family, but when he was in high school his mom got sick. Desperation led him to one of my uncles, which got him tangled up with me. Chase had a little brother who was a fuckup. He was always trying to watch out for him, so when his brother joined up with us, Chase followed so he could keep him safe. Niko… Well," Enzo laughs. "Niko's just an asshole. I think he joined up because it's easy money if you don't have a conscience."

  “What about you?” I ask.

  He sighs. “I’m afraid I don’t have a good excuse. Crime was the family business. I’m sure I could’ve broken away from it hundreds of times along the way, but I was just a dumb kid who wanted to make his dad proud. After a while, I started to tell myself I was only still in it because I thought I could save us from it. Thought I’d eventually be able to turn the family legit. I guess I still do.”

  “You say it like your dad doesn’t agree.”

  “Him?” Enzo laughs, but there’s no real humor in the sound. “I think my dad is too far gone to ever give up what he’s used to. He idolized the guys in power when he was a kid, and he worked his ass off to get where he is now. To him, taking the family any farther in the direction I want probably feels like he’d be betraying all that work.”

  “Where do I fit into all this? It doesn’t sound like he’s going to like the idea of you letting me go.” I’m almost afraid to ask the question, but it comes rolling out of me all the same.

  “You?” he asks, eyes narrowing in a way that makes me want to bite my lip and swoon. He takes me in with eyes like a hunter’s, like all his possessive words and actions could be boiled down and distilled into a single, panty-melting look. “You don’t fit into this. That’s why you’re
special. That’s why I’m going to keep you as close as I can, as long as I can.”

  “I don’t think I understand,” I say, feeling a little breathless. I know I should just wall myself off to him and pray that he really does try to get me out of this, but I’d be lying if I said the fire he lit in me back at the restaurant wasn’t still burning.

  “This ends with us going our separate ways,” he says firmly. “I won’t lie to you again or hold back the truth. There’s no other way. We have however long we have. However long it takes to find a way to get you out of this safely. After that? It’ll be too dangerous.”

  “Right,” I say. More bitterness and regret fills me than relief, but I don’t want to let that show on my face.

  “Which is why I don’t want to waste a second of my time with you.”

  “Oh,” I say dumbly. “Right.” My brain searches for a more articulate response, but it’s like he’s melting down all the coherent thoughts in my head until they’re just a sloshing, desperate pile of ill-advised desire.

  He’s closer now. I don’t remember him moving toward me, but I can suddenly feel the heat of his breath on my neck. His chest is rising and falling quickly, just like mine. Despite the riot of emotions inside me, I feel myself tilting my head back, lips parting for the kiss I know he wants to take.

  "Hey," Chase calls from the living room. "What are you going to tell your father, anyway?"

  He asks the question in an almost innocent voice, like he didn’t see what he was interrupting, but when I look toward where he’s sitting with his sketch pad, his posture seems a little too rigid for me to believe it was an accident.

  Enzo breathes out his frustration, but pushes off the wall, giving me a single, smoldering glare that tells me we’re going to pick up where we left off as soon as he gets a chance.

  “We’ll tell him things at the restaurant got complicated. I couldn’t get her to the car without people noticing, so I took her here instead and lured her to my private rooms.”

  Chase starts to relax a little, nodding his head. “Yeah, I can see that making enough sense.”

  “Why not just tell him you thought she was hot and you wanted to have her somewhere she’d be easier to fuck when you wanted?”

  “Watch your mouth,” Enzo snaps.

  Luke just grins. “You should consider yourself lucky,” he says to me. “I’d started to wonder if Enzo was even interested in women anymore. Can’t remember the last time I saw him messing around with a girl.”

  “Luke.” There’s a warning in Enzo’s tone. “If you want me to rip your fucking arms off and stick them in your mouth, keep talking.”

  Luke raises his eyebrows as if he’s picturing the gruesome image, then acts like he’s zipping his lips closed.

  “So,” Chase asks. “Who gets the honor of telling him?”

  “I will,” Enzo says.

  9

  Enzo

  I sit across from Neela and watch with as she eats some grilled chicken and rice I made for her. It’s nothing special, but she's devouring it like it's the best thing she's ever tasted.

  "What?" she asks, looking up at me over her plate.

  "I wasn't lying when I said I appreciate a woman with an appetite. You can imagine how torturous it was to watch you stage a hunger strike."

  She flashes me a reluctant grin. "A hunger strike? You make it sound so dramatic. I just didn’t have an appetite last night. I ate that entire bowl of pasta at the restaurant before we came back here, remember? How much do you think I need to eat?"

  I nod, grinning a little. It’s a relief to feel like she’s finally ready to act normal around me, relaxed, even. "Felt dramatic from where I was sitting. I was starting to worry those beautiful curves of yours were going to melt away."

  A blush creeps onto her cheeks, but she looks back down and takes another bite of her food. After a few moments, she shakes her head. "So you really expect to kidnap me and still get to fool around?”

  I shrug. “You could say I left a few moves on the table back at the restaurant. Maybe I was hoping to show you what else is up my sleeve.”

  She tries to cover her mouth with her hand, but I can see the hint of a smile in her eyes. When she composes herself, she lets her hand fall back to her lap, cheeks still flushed red. "I’m less worried about what’s up your sleeve than I am about what’s in your pants.” It seems impossible, but her cheeks become an even deeper red. “I’m still a little sore from you.”

  My heartbeat quickens, and in an instant, I’m nearly unable to hold back my need to have her again. Watching her across the table looking so small and perfect is almost too much. The lust comes with a strong note of pain, because I know no matter what she lets me take from her while she’s here and she’s mine, it’s only temporary. We have an expiration date, and chances are, it’s only going to be a few days.

  Nothing says I can’t enjoy those few days, though.

  “I’d be happy to give you a massage,” I say, grinning. “Although I think you’d end up more sore down there by the time I was done with you.”

  “You're unbelievable,” she says, laughing a little. “One minute, you're playing the knight in shining armor to get me off my 'hunger strike' and then as soon as I agree to eat, you go back to being the beast who seduced me on our date?"

  "Seduced?" I ask. "Now who's being dramatic?"

  "Please. You came strutting up to me with all your—" she waves her hand around in an unsuccessful attempt to convey some idea. "And you started talking about the things you wanted to do to me like it was—" her hand goes frantic again. She sighs. "You tried your hardest to seduce me. You can at least admit that much."

  "I wasn’t exactly being secretive. If I remember correctly, I told you what I was planning. I don’t think that counts as seduction," I say.

  "You're such a liar. And you're a kidnapper. And an ass."

  I grin. Even though there's a hint of real anger and truth in her words, she can't hide the trace of amusement just behind her eyes. She's enjoying this in her way, whether she wants to admit it to herself or not.

  “I need to go speak with my father today. I’m going to make an exception and let my guys stay here to keep an eye on you, but if any of them try anything—anything at all, just yell. The guard outside will be in here in a second to help you. Okay?”

  “You can’t just call him?” she asks.

  “No. Half the family could be dead and I’d still have to drive to his goddamn tower to tell him about it in person. He’s stuck in the past—thinks he’s in some old mafia movie.”

  She raises an eyebrow. "His tower? What is he, a supervillain?"

  I grin at that. “He’d probably get a hard-on if he knew someone thought of him like that. Don’t get me wrong, he’s a powerful man, and he’s not stupid. He’s just built for a different time. The world moved on without him, I guess.”

  “Sounds like someone else I know,” she says, eyeing me.

  “Me?” I ask. “I don’t think you understand what I do if that’s what you think.”

  “So you don’t go around breaking people’s kneecaps because they owe you money or threatening people until they pay you for protection? I know you said it’s different, but I mean, look at you.”

  “Movies and TV are about a generation or two behind on what organized crime looks like. I’m just a step away from getting clean,” I say. I hate how pathetic it sounds, even to me, like I’m some kind of junkie who thinks he can kick the habit. “We still throw around some bribery money, and occasionally lean on the family influence to help shave a few percent off a deal, but it’s not as bad as you’d think.”

  “So you don’t hurt people?”

  An image flashes in my mind: the blinding white flash of my gun and the sound, like a tree splitting in an instant. Three times. Crack, crack, crack. I see the way his shirt blew open from the force of the bullets and the small, innocent looking holes that ended his life as he slumped down and bled out, eyes never leaving mine
.

  “Not when it can be avoided,” I say. I try to harden my voice so she won’t hear the conflict there, the old wounds.

  Her face sinks, and I realize she was hoping I’d tell her I didn’t, that I never have. She wanted to be wrong about me. Sorry, sweetheart. I wish you were wrong about me. “I need to go. The guys will be here in a few minutes. There’s more pasta in the fridge if you get hungry.

  “I’m not sure I can handle any more pasta right now,” she says, laughing. Pasta at the restaurant, noodles last night, rice today… I’m starting to think you’re a carbivore.”

  “Just Italian,” I say, standing and heading out to meet with my dad. And hers.

  She watches me go without a word, eyes wide and thoughtful.

  I’m going to find a way to make this right, Neela. I fucking swear it.

  10

  Neela

  Luke, Chase, and Niko show up an hour or so after Enzo leaves. Niko flops down on the loveseat and pulls out his phone. His scarred face is neutral and unreadable, which seems to be the norm for him. Chase looks me up and down with his warm eyes, clearly trying to figure out if I’ve eaten or not. Luke just leers at me, eyes lingering too long on my breasts for my liking.

  I discovered some clothes Enzo had left for me in my room after he went to speak with his father. I finally showered, washing away the last hints of my shameful encounter with Enzo in the restaurant. I’m wearing a simple pair of jeans and a black top that is a little lower cut and tighter than I’d have picked out for myself. With Luke’s prying eyes, I wish I had something more conservative. Like a black trash bag.

  Luke taps his temple, near his star tattoos, and gives me an appreciative smile. With his shaved head and strong eyebrows, he makes a striking picture of masculinity and good looks, but I can’t stop seeing something wormy and distrustful in him that gives me the creeps.