The Arrangement 17 (The Ferro Family) (6 page)

When he’s done, my wrists are bound tightly in front of me. A shiver works its way up my spine. He stands, setting me gently on the floor. Sean’s cool blue gaze flicks up and peers at me from behind damp hair. That predatory grin spreads across his face. He circles around me, watching my chest rise and fall, tracing my body with his eyes before reaching down and ripping away my panties.

I cry out, startled by the speed with which he grabbed me. I look up to find Sean’s eyes filled with lust and something more, something dark. My pulse races faster, as my heart beats harder. I wanted this. I asked for this.

“Turn.” It’s a single word command. I do as I’m told and turn to face the bed, my back to him. He pushes me down so I’m leaning over the side of the bed, hips in the air, my tethered wrists stretched out before me. He jumps over the bed, and hooks my tethered wrists to the bottom of the bed frame.

Up until now, I’ve been able to see him moving in the faint glow of the clock and a nightlight reflecting off the bathroom mirror. Sean disappears from my view and the room turns black. The red glow of the clock is gone and the nightlight is doused.
 

My eyes search the darkness, but I can’t see anything. My pulse quickens as worry pinches my stomach. “Sean?” I call his name softly, turning my head when I think I hear something behind me.

The movement makes it easy for him to slip something over my head so I can’t see. Something else comes over my face, passing my eyes and lands in my mouth. He yanks it tight, gagging me. A third cloth is looped over my head and settles around my neck. That’s when I freak out. I can’t see, I can’t breathe, and if he chokes me I’m going to flip out. I buck my hips and scream, trying to free myself.

I can imagine him watching me, getting harder, as fear consumes me. The only way this would be worse is if he put a bag over my head. Sean pulls on the neck cloth tightening it. I try to lift off the bed, but can’t because my hands are tied down. I scream into the gag and kick out behind me.
 

I hear the snap before the pain registers. He hit me with something thin and hard, across my ass. I kick out again, and the resulting whip is harder this time, stinging so much it brings tears to my eyes. Shivering, I try to roll over, but I can’t. He pulls my make-shift collar and I still.

“Good girl.” He coos in my ear, making me jump. That’s when I feel his hand travel over my back, barely touching my skin, so that it raises goose bumps. “But I like it better when you fight me. Fight with me, Avery.” He whips me again, harder this time. It stings so badly I’m sure he’s cut my skin. The sensation makes me kick out, but he grabs my legs and spreads them apart, wedging himself between my thighs.
 

As I feel his hard length against me, I freeze in place. My back goes rigid as he moves, lining up with me, and pushes in. The gag muffles my high-pitched noise, but Sean could feel the truth in my response to him. It finally registers that this doesn’t hurt because I’m already wet. What’s wrong with me? I like this?
 

Sean breathes in my ear, “Stop thinking. Just act. Be the wild animal I know you are.” He tugs my collar and I panic as the sensation tightens, making it feel like I can’t breathe even though I can. There’s no way for me to tell him to stop.
 

Just as the thought crosses my mind, Sean releases the collar and reaches around, clamping a nipple in each finger. “I told you to stop thinking.” He squeezes hard, and then twists.

I scream into the gag and butt my hips into his. Sean moans and slips his hands up my sides, taking hold of my hair with one hand, and the collar with his other. He tugs and I buck. If I think, he pulls my hair so hard it makes me cry.
 

My stomach dips as I find a rhythm, pressing into him as he pounds me into the bed, using me as his plaything. Pushing up with my hands, I try to press harder into him. I’m feeling so much, worry and lust collide and I don’t want him to stop. With every thrust he takes me higher and higher, wildly tugging my collar as he does so. I don’t want him to stop. I need this, I need him.

At the last second, he pulls away, making me scream with frustration into my gag. Then I feel his hands turning me over, laying me on my back. Once again, he’s on top of me. My hands are pinned over my head and I can’t see. He pushes into me over and over again, riding me harder and harder. We rock against each other, climbing higher and higher until I finally shatter. When I scream into the gag, Sean’s thrusting becomes frantic. He pushes my legs apart and slams into me harder and faster until he reaches his climax. When he does, he pulls out and leans over my stomach, letting his warmth flow over my skin. I gasp as I feel it slide down my sides and into my navel.

A moment later, I feel his tongue against my skin, hot and far from sated. He strokes my skin, licking up every last bit, until he settles onto my arm. Leaning his head on my breast, he speaks.

“You’re right. That was what I wanted.” The voice is wrong. I panic when I hear it and can’t believe what Sean’s done, until he removes the blindfold and I see Marty is the man lying on my arm.

Heart pounding, I scream, darting upright in bed, the nightmare losing its grip on me.
 

My body is a hot mess, covered in sweat from my mashed up nightmare. Gripping my face in my hands, I begin to tremble. Pulling my knees into my chest, I remember where I am, and keep telling myself it wasn’t real. The strange thing was, until that point of the dream, I liked it.

I don’t even want to consider what that means. A collar? I like breathing. It’s not optional, so why the hell would I want Sean to put a collar on me? Frightened, I sit back against the headboard and push my damp hair out of my face. My body is covered in sweat, so I kick off the sheets. I wonder what nightmares are going through Sean’s head tonight. They can’t be worse than mine.

Chapter 15

Thank God for meal bars. For the past four days, I’ve been hiding in this crappy room pulling plaster out of my hair and eating the box of meal bars I grabbed before checking in. It was an added risk, but the old ladies’ comment about CVS and picking up some items made me realize that I need to stay out of sight. When Sean realizes those envelopes are empty, he’s going to come looking for me, and I can’t move until I know what I’m doing.

I’ve barely slept, save that first night. My mind is filled with strange dreams when I do. Besides, I’m afraid of being discovered and my heart won’t stop racing. Last night there was a knock on my door—it leads into the parking lot—and I thought he found me. But the person gave up quickly. He must have had the wrong door.

I feel like a squirrel hiding in a tree, waiting for the cats to walk away. The thing is, if they get desperate enough, they won’t wait. I need to choose—Black or Constance. Both are utterly evil, but both would want these documents. If I hold back the Ferro accounts, Constance won’t kill me. I already copied them to the cloud to cover my ass in case someone takes the originals. That’s my exit plan. I just haven’t figured out how to pull Sean away with me.

What if he wants this?
The little voice in the back of my head whispers to me. It’s not the first time this thought has crossed my mind.
 

I’ve been living by fear and going against my gut for too long. My gut says he’s not doing this for him—that he doesn’t want it. That’s his carrot—that’s what I can use to lure him away—but I don’t know how.

I sit up on the bed and flip on the TV. The same story is playing over and over again. A blonde woman with perfectly applied makeup repeats the headline: “Marty Masterson turned himself in to authorities for the attempted murder of Sean Ferro. When Mr. Ferro explained that Masterson was his bodyguard, all charges were dropped. Masterson explains his weapon misfired causing a—” I turn it off. It’s the same bullshit story they’ve been telling for three days. I can’t believe people bought that bunch of crap.

But they did, because they released Marty and slapped him with a few fines. Strangely enough, he had all the proper permits for his gun. I’m guessing Sean did that after the fact.
 

I roll back onto the bed and stare at the watermarks on the ceiling.
 

Constance or Black?

I have to choose an ally. Now. I’ve waited too long already. Logically, I should go to Constance. I still don’t know who Miss Black’s boss is and with my luck, Black actually works for Constance. But every time I almost make up my mind to go with Constance, I feel this horrible premonition that going to Sean’s mom will end with blood—and not mine. I wouldn’t put it past her to shoot her own kid. That’s the reason I’m still here, wearing three-day-old clothes. I’m too afraid to change or to shower, afraid to be caught off guard. It’s too risky.

My head is telling me to go to Constance, but my gut is telling me not to go to either of them. So I’m stuck in an endless loop with no way out. If I try to do anything with those documents on my own, I’ll get pushed in front of a train. I need someone powerful to stand with me, and I need to act before Sean finds me.

“I can’t wait anymore.” I make an aggravated sound and jump off the bed. I’m playing the ‘lesser of two evils’ game and I can’t find a way to win! If it’s Black, then I have to go to Constance, but if it’s Constance, I have to go to Black.

Before I can blink something slams against the door. Startled I swallow a yelp. They found me. I can hear two male voices, maybe more. One is saying to hit it again. That door won’t hold, so I bolt to the bathroom and lock the door. Pulse pounding, I look around, trying to find a way out. This place is an old craphole, but I see a place to hide. I climb onto the sink and then push up the drop ceiling tile. I stick my head up there and glance around for the cable holding the ceiling up. It’s two tiles over. I lean over, and can barely reach it.

There’s another bang and the sound of wood splintering. Male voices shout, “Find her!”

Fuck! My palms are a sweaty mess, but there’s no time. The bathroom door is a piece of crap and I already hear their footsteps. I barely manage to pull myself up, slicing my palm open in the process. My ass is hanging through the ceiling tile over the shower stall when the door gives way. As it shatters below me, I slip the tile back in place with my foot and see nothing but blackness. The tiny space stinks, but I’m too frightened to care. I bite my lip to keep from screaming.

They’ve entered the bathroom. Their voices are louder. “She’s not here.”

“She didn’t fucking fall off the face of the earth! She’s not one of us and Ferro isn’t with her!” The guys mutter ideas, but it just makes the man angrier. “I don’t give a shit!”

Two seconds later another male voice chimes in. “You cannot do that!” It’s an older voice that’s near hysterical. “Who is going to pay for this damage? You can’t just come in here and bust the place up.”

“Call it a remodel, old man.” They laugh.

The old guy doesn’t. “I’m calling the police and then we’ll see who’s laughing.” Before he finishes the last word there’s a scream and a sickening thud.
 

“I’m laughing now, you son of a bitch.” There’s complete silence.
 

I feel sick. I’ve been hanging onto the wire with my eyes closed tight, my body curled into a ball. My legs are up into my chest and my sneakers are resting right on top of the ceiling tiles on the wire, but I know I have to keep my weight off that ceiling or it’ll fall. I’m lucky the wire is holding me at all.
 

Frozen in place, my hands start to slip. I don’t realize why until I see blood dripping onto the tile below—the wire is cutting my hands. My feet slip into the ceiling. I can’t pull them up any more and my entire body is sliding down.
 

Don’t scream. Don’t scream. Don’t scream.

Wildly, I try gripping the wire and pulling up. It slices my hand deeper and sends a shooting pain up my arm. I bite my tongue to keep from crying out. Blood flows down the wire from my palm, dripping rapidly onto the old tiles. They soak it up swiftly, but in a matter of seconds there’s going to be blood in the bathtub.
 

After a few more loud bangs, their voices quiet in favor of Police sirens bellowing in the distance.

The same man says, “Move. Now. We have to find her before Ferro does.”

They’re gone. My heart thumps wildly in my chest as I hear tires screech. Relieved, I touch my head to the wire and let out the breath I was holding.
 

That’s when Marty’s voice booms from below me. “You can come down now.” A ceiling tile shifts below me as if it were poked. “I know you’re up there and you’re hurt. The ceiling is turning red.” Marty sighs when I don’t answer and I hear him step into the tub.
 

As he reaches up to move the tile, I slip. I try to hold on, but the wire slices through my hands, and I can’t. My hands just won’t grip. I scream as I hit the drop ceiling and take it down with me. It falls on Marty a second before I do. I hear him hit the tub with a sound like a punch, right before I land on top of him, too.

Frantic, I push my hair out of my face, smearing blood everywhere. My body is screaming at me to run as the sirens get louder.
 

I take off and don’t look back.

I manage to cut through lawns and side streets. The only people outside at this time of day are kids. Their parents are watching their cell phones, not them, so when they tug on their Mama and say a lady covered in blood ran by, no one believes them. Nice.

It’s all adrenaline now. I don’t consciously choose where I’m going, I just go.

The Ferro mansion isn’t far from here.

I have to get to Constance before they find me.

Chapter 16

I can barely breathe when I press the bell. My body is screaming at me, begging for a moment’s rest. I made it here on foot. I’ve spent the past few hours jumping fences and avoiding major roads. Leaves and dirt are stuck to my clothes, and there’s dried blood on my face. My hands are still screaming with weeping wounds as I fall against the door. I can’t stand anymore.