“Almost done, Prescott.” I keep screwing the bottom while tears drip down my face. I can’t look up, or he’ll see how upset I am. “I’m almost done here, and then I’ll be back and everything will be okay.” Once I’ve got the gun back together, I put it aside and wipe my face.
“Lake, are you crying?” Prescott asks.
“I’m sure she misses you,” my aunt explains.
I lean my head against the wall behind me. “I miss you, is all.”
Prescott looks at me intently. “When do you think you’ll be back?”
I sniff, look at the camera, and manage a small smile. “Sooner than I thought I would.” I just have to give them this piece of plastic, and I’ll be done with them, done with all this. “I mean…” I run a hand through my hair. “I’ll be home soon. It’s all going to be okay. You’ll be okay. I promise.” I bring the screen to my lips and kiss it. “You’re perfect, and I love you so much.”
“Love you too, Lake.”
“Tell Uncle J I said hi.”
Prescott nods and waves. “Bye, Lake.”
“Bye.” I hang up and take a few minutes to feel sorry for myself before slipping the piece of plastic I stole into my pocket. I have no idea how I’ll get it to the sadists, or how I’ll handle the burn in my pocket until I do, but I will because Prescott must survive this. He’ll have a nice normal life and grow old, and if he wants kids, he’ll have kids, and they’ll have kids, and so on and so forth.
Tragedy already hit my family once when my parents died. It can’t hit again. We’re good people doing our best when met with terrible people and a streak of bad luck. We all just have to make the best of what we have and not hurt others in the process.
I rise from my position on the floor and slide the gun back into the holster. I struggle to put the holster back, but manage after standing on the suitcase. Once that’s done, I face the closet doors, hesitating because I don’t want to face Alessio. But I must.
I step out and unlock the bedroom door. I move toward the exit, wondering what excuse I could use to leave the apartment, when Alessio walks out of Leo’s bedroom. He’s wearing black slacks, polished leather shoes, and a wrinkled shirt that’s been wet all day. His hair is slightly mussed, and he smiles fondly at me.
“The puddle hopping exhausted him,” Alessio says as he advances toward me.
I retreat into the bedroom.
A glint in his eye tells me he likes that, and now he prowls with purpose. When he reaches me, he sweeps up my T-shirt and closes the door with his leg. He throws my shirt on the floor, then reaches behind me and unsnaps my bra. Bending, he kisses my neck. “Are you tired?”
He tugs down my pants, and I step out of them. He smacks my bottom, then squeezes it. “This ass is mine. Say it’s mine.”
“It’s yours, Alessio.”
“Good. I asked you a question.” He smacks my bottom again, then steps back to remove his shirt and take off his shoes.
“I’m a little tired.” Mentally, not physically. I have a lot on my mind.
“We’re going to bed early tonight.” He’s nude now. He pulls the waistband of my panties and releases it on the way to the bathroom. The waistband stings my skin.
“Off with those,” he says from the bathroom. “You need a shower, a proper fucking, and a nice cuddle.” The shower water hits the tile.
I’m not sure why I can’t have this man all to myself without any complications. I look up at the ceiling. “Why not?”
“Lake, get over here.”
THIRTY-SEVEN
CARETAKER DOM
Lake
When I go in the bathroom, Alessio’s under the shower, washing his hair. His face is turned toward the stream and his eyes are closed, giving me an uninterrupted view of his beautiful body. Maybe I was wrong to think of him as Hercules. Adonis seems more appropriate now.
I slip out of my underwear and shove them into the laundry basket before stepping into the shower.
The moment I step in, Alessio trades places with me, and I face him. Usually, the water takes a minute to penetrate my thick, curly, dark hair, but Alessio speeds it up when he runs his fingers through it. He depresses my scalp and starts massaging, his large hands engulfing my entire head. I close my eyes.
