CHAPTER 2
MAISY
With only a towel wrapped around my body, I exhale the breath I was holding. I'm alive, and safe. The gunshot sound was still resonating in my head just before I fainted, having followed me all day since I was shot at. And when I saw Camila the witch getting inside the house, I had to enter too. My ears are still ringing now. I'm a wanted person. The Slavs are looking for me, the assholes from the pits of hell that someone should kill already. The bounty on my head is high and if I show my face anywhere, that's it, game over. And why? Because I don't give up. That demon Milan has taken the most precious thing from me and I'll be damned if I don't get it back.
The answer lies somewhere inside his files. It took me years to sift through most of them, which unfortunately got me plenty of information on his enemies rather than on himself. It seems that his life is devoted to taking down the Cartes, Delgados, and Vitalis of New York, after which he plans on widening his scope, but that's not my concern. At the moment, I'm here, and I'm taking a different approach. I have no other options, even though I know I'm playing with fire. It's either that or becoming one of Milan's whores. I was stupid to think I'd go unnoticed for so long.
At least for the time being, I know I'm safe here. Also, on the plus side, the men in front of me, Kai and Logan, don't seem to want to violate my body.
I haven't seen their faces before, which makes it harder for me to guess who they are. Give me names, addresses, photos, numbers–anything, really, and I'll remember it. My photographic memory has been a curse throughout my life. People have tried to use me, and many succeeded. My ability to merely glance at anything for it to become etched in my head is the reason why Milan kept me alive.
It's also the reason I don't own a cellphone or a laptop. To me, everything I see becomes information my brain chooses to keep, and at times it's overwhelming. It weighs me down like an anchor, each day heavier.
I study Logan as he talks to me in a slow, dreamy manner. His eyes are green, with a mischievous glimmer, and sporadically roam over my body. He doesn't know I've noticed. His teeth flash when he smiles; this person is seductive by nature. Every now and again he sucks in a breath and runs his hand through the dark hair that falls over his face, and he regards me from underneath.
Tall, muscular, perfectly built body, wrapped in a well-fitted suit, white shirt with a tie and a vest. The shiny black shoes finish off the polished look. Not only does he look safe, but there's nothing intimidating about him. He's magnetic.
He's the one who said I was safe.
Kai is different. His piercing blue eyes bore shamelessly into me, appraising me. Messy, shoulder-length blond hair, strong jaw, a scar on his cheek, full lips. If we were in a different place, I'd say he was a model.
Although the black leather motorcycle jacket, tattoos on his hands, jeans, and black leather boots betray him. Tall and buff, he's a menacing sight. I'm not biased but if that doesn't scream gangster, certainly in this city, I don't know what does.
They're mobsters, clearly–why else would they be here?–but then again, I don't get that vibe when they talk to me.
I wonder what the vibe is with Orion Carte, apparently the finest criminal lawyer in NY and head of the Carte family.
"We're his associates."
I bite my lip. "Associates, as in, part of the mob?"
"Haha. Cute. No. We are the mob." Logan raises his chin arrogantly. Just now, he reminds me of the type of mobsters who dress well, talk well, and kill without mercy. All with smiles on their faces.
Kai's eyes look shocked as they fixate on Logan. "What the fuck, man?"
"Look, she's here already, she doesn't even know who we are, and look at her. She's harmless."
"Do you always think with your cock, Logan?" Kai growls. "Is that how you do business in your club?"
"As a matter of fact, women love to strip these days. It's empowering for them. You should catch up on all the feminism that happened in the last year."
"You work in a strip club?" I purr. I don't want them to argue.
"No, Maisy, I own the strip club," Logan explains.
Kai stares at Logan. "Oh, and the girls behind the club? What are they up to?"
Logan narrows his eyes at him. "Shut up, Kai. You're talking too much!"
"Or what?" Kai steps forward and pushes Logan with his chest.
Logan draws a blade in an instant and presses it against Kai's neck, right under his ear. "I love you, man, but you're treading a fine line here."
Kai seizes Logan's lapels, the blade still flush against his neck. "Cut me. I dare you."
I gasp and take a step back, just as a third person walks in. Thank God!
"Hey, hey!" the new arrival yells.
This must be Orion Carte.
"What the hell are you doing, fuckers? This is not what we talked about."
"Fuck, man, this one here's thinking with his cock again," Kai snaps as Logan lowers the blade and slides it back into his pocket.
The three of them exchange glances. It looks like Orion's silently cautioning them. Then, he turns to me and steps closer.
I never would've imagined a lawyer to be this huge. Power spills from every pore on his body, and his demanding dark eyes burrow into mine. Like an animal sizing up its prey. I feel insignificant already.
Clean-shaven, defined jaw and cheekbones, and dark hair in messy waves. On one side of his neck, he has a tattoo of a rope with some sort of knot leading from his ear down to the collar of his buttoned shirt and tie. His sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, revealing tattoos on both arms. There are four silver rings and a silver bracelet on one hand, and three rings on the other together with an expensive-looking watch. Plus, a leather holster under his arm with a gun in it. Of course. And he's vexed about something.
He possesses a different kind of darkness, one that I can see lurking as if patiently waiting for something. I recognize it from a photograph of his father and the syndicate's most ruthless gangster, the infamous Willer Carte. But that was on paper. And I thought it was a glitch in the print. Seeing it in person makes me tremble.
Logan aligns himself with Orion. Kai does too.
The three of them are of roughly equal height, too tall, and tower over me in silence, as if I'm a defendant on trial. They are intoxicating, yet strangely comforting. It's been a while since I've been in the company of men who don't want to use me for some selfish cause. Just wait until they know more about me. They always turn into demons.
"She's not hurt?" Orion asks, appraising me.
"No, that was a rat's blood." Logan's staring at my jugular notch for some reason. I cover my neck with my hand.
"She needs clothes." Kai states the obvious, but he's stripping layers of my armor away by acting the uber-protector.
"Rat's blood, hmm?" Orion ignores him and narrows his eyes at me. "Are you a rat?"
"No, I'm not." I speak loud and clear, my chin lifting automatically.
Orion arches an eyebrow. "Then why rat's blood?"
"I was just lucky, I guess."
"Lucky?" Orion scoffs. "Right. You, stay here." He turns to Kai and Logan. "Both of you, come with me."
I'm left in the big room, alone. Not that I mind. I have a huge bed, a TV, and a large window with no blinds.
I look through the window and can just about see the lights of a few houses in the distance. There seems to be a dense thicket of trees around the house I'm in. I peer down at the ground. It's late August and stuffy, but I'm on the second floor, so it's basically safe to open the window.
ORION
"Follow me."
Three different sets of footsteps ring out as Kai and Logan walk wordlessly behind me, down the staircase and into the kitchen. They know I'm fucking mad.
I stop in the middle of the room by the granite island and turn to them. "Why the fuck were you fighting?"
"It's not important," Kai snarls.
Logan tries to deflect. "Let's focus on the problem at hand."
"You think?" I'm exasperated, and losing my patience. It's getting close to midnight. "What are we doing about her?"
"Maisy, you mean," Kai corrects me.
Logan and I look at each other. Kai's never corrected me in his life. For once, I'm glad there's still fire in his balls. We were beginning to think he was dead on the inside. In all my annoyance, I can't help but laugh.
"Is that what she said? That's her name?"
"Yes," Kai confirms, while Logan and I smirk.
"What else did she say?"
"She came here to see you."
"To see me?" My eyebrows shoot up.
"Yes, you."
"You know we're going to have to kill her, right? She's seen too much," I remind them.
"No," Kai says. His obstinance is beginning to annoy me.
Logan's on his side. "No way."
Look at that. Logan, siding with Kai? I must admit, 'Maisy' woke my dick from its winter sleep when I saw her, and her freshly showered scent wafting under my nostrils made me feel like a horse on drugs, but even so, she's seen us. It's game over for her. In our world of lies, betrayal, semi-automatic guns, and killings, you trust a few people. And these two make my most trusted army, though it's shocking even to me.
"What's this? A mutiny?" I snap.
Kai pleads his case. "Orion, you saw her. She's different. Normal. We don't kill people from outside our world."
Clearly this goes deeper than I thought for him.
"I'm with Kai on this one," Logan adds.
Fools! "She came to my door with rat's blood on her," I point out. "Rat's blood! That's a message for me. Or us. How can you not see it?"
They stare at me, silently resisting.
I exhale a loud sigh. "I can't deal with you two today. Stay the night, but away from her room. We'll talk tomorrow morning."
"Are you gonna kill her?" Logan asks.
"Not until I know who sent her. Come, I'll show you to your rooms, then I'll go and see what she knows."
I take them upstairs again, but to the opposite side of the house, to Lisa and Mya's rooms. My sister and niece are the only family members I allow in my house, so they rightly have a room each.
"Orion, I trust you, brother," Kai insists as he enters his room. "I know you won't kill her."
Logan heads for his room without a word.
"Get some sleep," I tell them.
MAISY
I shift my weight from foot to foot as I wait for Orion. He is the person I ought to get on my side, seeing as I'm in his house and looking for his protection. But somehow, I get the feeling he doesn't want me here. I'm not frightened–even though his eyes are black as a bottomless pit, seeming to magically lure every living creature to him. Mine are, too. Darkness doesn't scare me. What does scare me is that I can't read him. But I'll take that over being on the streets. I'm finally safe, thank God! A mantra that's been on repeat in my head. That, and from time to time, the image of the three of them standing over me.
The knock on the door makes me jolt. "C-come in."
Orion strides inside as if he's meeting me in some professional setting, like a boardroom or something. "You haven't dressed yet."
"I have nothing to wear." I chew on my bottom lip. "Maybe I'll wash my old clothes later."
"No. Throw them away. I'll bring something for you."
He disappears somewhere and comes back with a t-shirt, jeans, and underwear. How often has he been in this situation?
"I hope these'll fit you." He hands them over and glances at my legs, at the wound on my ankle. The skin is broken and red where I was shackled.
"Thank you."
He sits on the armchair opposite the bed, rests his left ankle over his right knee, and leans back. "Sit," he orders.
I take a few steps backward and sit on the bed.
"What's your name?"
"Maisy Roy."
"I'm Orion Carte. But you knew that already."
I nod.
"Tell me why you showed up on my doorstep in the middle of the night."
"Um, there's a letter for you." True, there is a letter for him, except I don't have it. It's one of those 'I glanced at it and now it lives in my head' things. As much as that always gets me in shit, it's saved me quite a few times. And had I not seen it and remembered the address, I probably wouldn't have known where to go. Seeing Camila entering only a moment earlier gave me the strength I needed. Camila the witch!
He reaches out with his palm open. "The letter."
"I-I don't have it."
"I will ask you again. And I expect the truth this time. I don't need to tell you who I am or what I could do to you."
There's an infinite void inside his eyes, and I feel it pulling me to him. It must be a cross-examination technique he uses in his work. Or some kind of sorcery.
I nod. "Yes, I know." He's the head of the Carte mafia family, and a criminal lawyer. Which is partly why I knocked on his door.
"So, why did you show up on my doorstep in the middle of the night?" he repeats.
"I told you already." I have a persistent itch under my arm that I try to ignore but it's damn hard, so I scratch as I speak.
"I've seen girls like you on the streets, hungry for a heroin shot or whatever else is available. Whoring themselves out for a moment of peace. Are you one of those girls?"
"No." I scowl. "Of course not."
"Your eyes tell me one thing but your body tells me another."
He keeps looking at my legs, specifically around my ankles.
"Remove your towel and stand still for me."
The fire in my fists ignites by itself. I raise them, using my upper arms to hold the towel tight at my sides. "You will not sell my body like I'm a piece of meat, and I will not be your whore! I'm a human being, you asshole!"
Orion doesn't flinch. He seems entertained, even. "I don't want to sell you. I want to see if you have any bruises or whip marks. That usually tells me who you are. Unless you want to start telling the truth."
"Well, I'm not a heroin addict." I raise my chin. I have nothing to be ashamed of. "Here. Read my body, asshole." I remove the towel.
My body's already been seen by at least twenty men today. They all had a nasty comment, a few slapped me, and one wanted more but thankfully was stopped. I was to be 'prepared' and then put into production. Monsters.
I watch his pupils dilate as he sucks in a breath. He stands up and moves closer to examine me. His eyes meander all over my upper body, expertly avoiding my nipples, hardened from the sudden rush of cool air. He rubs a hand over his jaw, and his tongue darts out to lick his lower lip.
He reaches for my upper arm and I jolt when his cold hand lands on my skin, expecting him to say something demeaning. He's a man standing with a naked woman in front of him, after all. But his eyes are at peace, black and calm, his head slightly cocked as if I'm overreacting.
He proceeds to turn me around, slowly. "I see."
"What do you see?" I breathe.
"You have a stamp on your lower back from your pimp. A fresh one. Did you run away, Maisy Roy?"
"A stamp?"
He stoops to get a better look at it, checking it out carefully. I'm self-conscious about his face being literally an inch from my bare ass. But clearly that doesn't faze him at all.
"Mm-hmm, done four hours ago. Checked, stamped, dated, contraceptive included, the whole shebang." He stands up and I turn to him fully, as if I'm not naked at all. I look up at him as he towers over me. "This means you're clean and you can start." He twists my itching arm outward. "Here. They inserted you with an implant so you don't get pregnant."
I automatically give my itchy arm a good scratch, almost trying to tear that fucker out from under the skin, and as I do, my eyes stay on him. His are focused lower, on my breasts.
The moment he realizes I've noticed, he steps away and sits back in the armchair. "Please, cover up."
I pick up the towel and wrap it around my body.
"Tell me how long you've been a whore."
A hurtful presumption. I have feelings, asshole. The way he looked at me a moment ago is at odds with the impassive expression he wears now. The sight of it doesn't give me any indication of my destiny.
"I'm not a whore, I told you that! Are you deaf or something?" I spit back. I guess this is the only way we'll communicate.
"Then what are you?"
Tears spike my eyes. "I ran away from a man who… who wanted me to… to…"
"And you came running to me? Why on earth did you think I'd save you?"
"I don't know. I saw a letter with your name and address on a while back. When that bastard was shooting at me, I ran here. As I got closer I saw Camila coming in. It's then that I realized I had to get in too."
"Camila?" His eyes narrow and turn icy, as if I've stepped on his grave.
"Yes."
"Let's try this one more time. Why did you show up on my doorstep in the middle of the night, with rat's blood on you?"
"Look, I told you. I saw a letter addressed to you–"
"Okay. Who's it from?"
"Your mother. It looked important."
He shifts awkwardly in his seat. I must've hit a nerve. "My mother passed away last year."
"Well, it said it was from 'Mom.' It had your home address."
"When did you see this letter?"
"A few months ago."
"And you remembered my address?"
"Mm-hmm." I yawn suddenly, and lie on the bed. I've been awake for a few days and running on adrenaline for some time. I'm exhausted, and the cool air in the room is making me sleepy.
"You should stop lying."
"I'm not lying. There was other stuff in the box. Baby pictures. Other memorabilia."
"And you're telling me this out of the goodness of your heart?"
"No. Yes. I mean, I needed to go somewhere safe." I'm having difficulty keeping my eyes open. "They want me to work for them… but I won't do it. I'll never do it."
"Who's 'them?'"
"Them." I yawn again.
"How do you know me?"
"I don't. Please, Orion, I'm tired."
"It's O-Ryon. You pronounce it like the constellation Orion."
"The most striking and recognizable constellation in the night sky," I say, pulling redundant information from my head, and close my eyes.
"What do you want from me, Maisy?"
"Right now, can I sleep, please?"
I turn onto my side, place my closed palms under my face, and instantly start to doze off. The bed just called my name.
Orion's still in the room. I hear him sigh, sounding annoyed. "We'll talk tomorrow."
I sense the cover being draped over me, and I feel tucked in, cozy.
Chapter 3 coming up tomorrow!