Damaged for Him Page 2

  He turned to me, his arms folded across his chest, anger glinting in his eyes. “Are you going to explain yourself to me?”

  I bit back what I really wanted to say and forced different words to form between my lips. “I made a mistake. That’s all. I got caught up in the idea of having her all to myself, and I took it too far.”

  “You could have destroyed us. Our family. You’re lucky Torres didn’t demand that either you or Catalina, or both of you, ended up dead. He’d have been within his rights to kill her, and it’s only because you’re my son that you’re still alive today. Never forget that.”

  You’re no family to me, I thought but didn’t dare say out loud.

  “I didn’t think things through,” I said instead. “I simply reacted. You know what a pretty pussy can do to a man’s head. That she’d never been touched was too enticing for me.”

  He exhaled a long sigh and shook his head. “I will put my hands up to the part I played in all of this as well, Angelo. I forced the two of you together, which clearly was a very bad idea. But I had believed I’d taught you better. I thought your loyalty to me would have far outweighed whatever you felt for Catalina, and I can’t pretend like I’m not hugely disappointed in you.”

  “What can I say? I lost my head. I wasn’t thinking clearly, but I am now. I see what damage I caused, and I owe you for getting us both out of this situation alive.”

  “I understand that you felt something for Catalina—I cared for her, too.”

  I had to stop myself from snorting out loud at that one. How could any man who proclaimed to care about a girl sell her to another man to go through God only knew what?

  “But this is just how business works,” he continued. “Women are here to work for us. That’s all.”

  “Like my mother?” I blurted before I’d even had the chance to process what I’d been about to say. “Had she been simply a cog in the wheel of your work?”

  “I don’t like to talk about your mother, Angelo, and now most certainly isn’t the time.”

  I clamped my lips together, not wanting to anger him. He was right. Now wasn’t the time. The identity of the woman who’d given birth to me was a whole other incident, and right now Catalina was far more important. I didn’t want to anger my father any more than I already had. I needed for him to think I was the good, devoted son I’d always been, even if that devotion had always come from fear and abuse, rather than love and respect.

  In my father’s eyes, they were all the same thing.

  “You’re right. I’m sorry. Emotions are running high right now. I think I just need some time to cool off, and then I’ll get myself back together again.”

  I wanted to be away from him. Just the sight of his face was making me furious. I wanted time alone to think of Catalina and get my head straight. It had also been a long time since I’d eaten a decent meal, and even though I hated to think about my stomach while Catalina was going through hell, I needed to eat. Wasting away wasn’t going to help her at all.

  I told my father as much.

  “Fine,” he said, nodding. “Go down to the kitchen and get Georgina to prepare you something. You may then go to your room to eat, but you’ll stay there until I say otherwise. I won’t have you wandering around the compound, Angelo. The other men have been told that you’re not allowed to leave, and they’ve all been instructed to shoot on sight should they see you attempting anything.”

  I gritted my teeth and forced a smile. “Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere.”

  I meant it, too, for the time being anyway. This was the only link I had to wherever Catalina might be now. I wouldn’t achieve anything by leaving.

  Even so, I didn’t want to be around my father. He and I had never had any love between us—not since I was tiny, and had been unable to see him for the monster he truly was. I worried he’d say something that would spark something inside me, and I’d be unable to control myself. If I killed him, and was then unable to find anything in his office to tell me where Catalina was, I might never find her again.

  All that mattered now was Catalina. I needed to put my own anger and desire for revenge to one side and do whatever I could for her.

  What would she be doing now? Had she reached the place where Torres would keep her? Had he touched her again? Had he raped her? Seeing his hands all over her had just about killed me back on the road where we’d been picked up, but I had to keep reminding myself that whatever I was feeling, it was one hundred times worse for her. At least my body was my own. Would she think of me? Would she miss me? Or would she find it easier to put me out of her mind completely? I didn’t blame her if she did. I wanted her to do whatever it took for her to stay safe long enough for me to find her again. I hoped she knew that I wasn’t ever going to give up on her. I hoped the few days we’d had together had shown her that much. I’d meant every word I’d said to her. I loved her, and I’d get past whatever she needed to do to survive her time with Torres, even though just the thought of them together tortured my soul.

  Before I went down to the kitchen, I went to my room to shower and change. We’d been on the road for a couple of days without such luxuries. In my adjoining bathroom, I stood in front of the mirror. Almost a week’s worth of dark beard covered the lower half of my face, and my hair looked wild and unkempt. Knowing my father would want me to fit in here, I picked up a razor and got to work ridding my face of the beard growth. With each dip of the razor into the water in the sink, and stroke of the blade across my skin, I revealed the old Angelo Cassidy again. I was rough and rugged with Catalina, and smooth-shaven and sharp as my father’s son. I knew which version of myself I preferred.

  With that done, I showered and changed, and then made my way down to the kitchen. I was still moving with a limp, my injury from the bear trap not yet healed. The staff caught sight of me, and either threw me nervous smiles or kept their heads down and hurried away. It was stupid for me to feel ashamed, but that was the overwhelming emotion that swept over me. I was that little boy again who’d been chastised by his father, only this time it wasn’t only myself who I’d hurt. Everyone here loved Catalina, and even though they’d known she was leaving after her eighteenth birthday, I still felt responsible for her no longer being here. Did the staff think I’d hurt her? Perhaps that I’d taken her against her will, as I’d told Torres and my father? Or had whispers spread around the compound, and people understood that we’d been in love?

  We still were in love. That hadn’t changed.

  No matter how much distance was put between us, and how much we were put through, our love would always remain.

  Chapter Three

  I felt every eye on me as Elliot Torres guided me through the corridors of the big house.

  There was no point shouting out for help or trying to escape. I’d already seen the high walls surrounding the outskirts of the property, and even if I did manage to escape, I had nowhere to go. I’d never find my way back to the compound, and if I was no longer here, Angelo would never know where to find me either. I’d end up surviving like the women who worked at the compound had before they were brought there to work—on the streets, with no home or money, and only my body to use as a commodity. As much as I despised Torres, right now the option of living here appealed more.

  He reached a door at the end of the corridor and used a key to unlock it. I was expecting to find a room, but instead the door opened onto a stairwell.

  “This way,” he said, glancing back at me, his expression unreadable.

  My heart raced, my breath growing short. Adrenaline racing through my veins made me dizzy, and a rush of claustrophobia only made things worse.

  “What’s down there?” I dared to ask.

  “The living quarters for you girls, of course.”

  “Oh.”

  You girls? So, I was going to be living with other women. Panic spiked sharp through me. What would they be like? Would they be like Yolanda—kind and nurturing? Or more like Bianca, with her b
itchiness and snide tongue?

  It suddenly dawned on me that I was being brought to Torres’s equivalent of the compound. I wasn’t special. I wouldn’t be treated any differently. While the women here belonged to Torres, and I assumed wouldn’t be farmed out to other men like what happened on the compound, they were all Torres’s playthings. And I was to become one of them.

  I sucked in a deep breath to calm my nerves and followed Torres down the stairs. We reached the bottom, which led onto yet another corridor. This one was windowless, only fluorescent bulbs above our heads lighting the way. Tears of fear filled my eyes, and I blinked them away. The certainty that my life here was going to be nothing like back at the compound filled me. I’d taken a lot for granted back there, and reality was closing in around me like the bear trap that had mangled Angelo’s leg.

  He reached another door, which was also locked. Using a key, he pushed the door open, and then stepped aside to let me through.

  The room was long with a low ceiling. The walls were made from concrete, though posters and even patterned sheets had been hung on them, as though to create an illusion of décor.

  There were four single beds in the room, and three of them were already occupied. They were all young women, like me, none of them older than mid-twenties, I guessed. One woman had fiery red hair, alabaster skin covered in freckles, and bright green eyes. The other was blonde and blue eyed, curvy with full cheeks and a small nose. The third woman was black, her hair worn in a natural afro. She was tall, with long, lean limbs. Her cheekbones were sharp, her lips full.

  Was this his collection? I saw where I fitted in now—the natural brunette. I was the missing piece. The women all stared at Torres with identical expressions of fear and apprehension. The blonde picked up the blanket from her bed and clutched it to her chest as though she thought it might protect her somehow.

  “Ladies,” Torres said, “this is your new roommate, Catalina. She’ll be staying with us from now on, so I hope you’ll show her the ropes and help her get settled in. Please understand that if you don’t, I will find out about it, and there will be repercussions.”

  I didn’t want him to threaten the other women to be nice to me. I was worried they’d resent me for it, and whatever tenuous bonds I might be able to form with them would be broken before I’d even uttered a word.

  My gaze flitted between them, and I offered each of them a nervous smile. The black woman returned my smile, while the blonde didn’t meet my eye, and the red-haired girl stared defiantly back at me.

  “Some food will be brought down to you, Catalina, and I will have some of the clothes I’d originally bought for you brought down as well. The bathroom is through the door at the back of the room.” I hadn’t noticed it before, but yes, there was another door. “My original plan was for you to have a room of your own, but your recent antics have changed my mind about that. I figure that if you’re going to act like a little slut, you can bed down with the rest of the girls. No reason for you to get preferential treatment.”

  I heard the sharp bite to his tone. This was part of my punishment for running away and, of course, for giving my virginity to Angelo. I guessed I should probably be relieved if this was all that was going to happen to me. If the other women were nice, I might even prefer to be down here with them, instead of locked up inside a room on my own.

  I’d taken for granted the little freedom I’d had back at the compound. Though I hadn’t been allowed to leave, I’d been allowed to wander the grounds, and treated most of the main house as my own. It was clear now that this underground room was going to be my home for the foreseeable future, and I was going to be sharing it with three complete strangers.

  As I stepped more fully into the room, the door slammed shut behind me, and I jumped.

  “That’s your bed,” the redhead said, jerking her chin toward the empty bed at the back of the room.

  I nodded and made my way over to it and slowly sat down on the edge. I was so self-conscious, I wanted to crumple into a tiny ball and vanish. Each of the other girls was looking at me—even the blonde who had appeared the shyest of the three.

  “So, what’s your story, Catalina?” the redhead asked, getting to her feet and folding her arms. Everything about her screamed defensiveness, and my instincts instantly knew I needed to watch this one.

  “I don’t have much of a story,” I said, twisting my lips. “I was sold to Torres when I turned eighteen, and now here I am.”

  The black woman turned on her bed to face me. “He said you were going to get preferential treatment, but that you’re not getting it anymore.” She tilted her head to one side curiously. “What did you do?”

  “I was supposed to have given him my virginity, but I gave it to a boy I grew up with instead. We ran away together, but Torres caught up with us.”

  Her eyebrows lifted, creating lines in her otherwise smooth brow. “Holy shit. I bet that pissed Torres off.”

  “Yes, it did.”

  “Did he kill the boy?”

  I shook my head. “He’s a man, really. At least he is now. But no, he didn’t kill him. His father is powerful, so he spared his life.”

  “But he still brought you back here.”

  “Yes, he did.”

  “Hmm, interesting.” She rubbed her lips.

  I didn’t know what was so interesting. I hadn’t had much of a life at all—mainly just those few days with Angelo. The rest had been spent within four walls.

  “I’m Deanna,” she introduced herself. She nodded at the redhead. “That’s Kimmie, and she’s called Grace.”

  The blonde girl lifted her head and gave me the faintest ghost of a smile.

  “Where did you all come from?” I asked. “Have you been here long?”

  I wasn’t so naive as to think they were all born into this, like me. I’d spent my life at the compound and knew that most of the girls there had been snatched off the streets.

  Deanna shrugged. “I’ve been here about a year or so now, I think.”

  “What about you?” I asked the quiet blonde girl, Grace. She seemed to be the youngest out of the women—probably about my age.

  “I was snatched when I was fifteen.”

  My heart broke at her story. “I’m so sorry.”

  She shrugged but didn’t meet my eye. “It’s not your fault.”

  I looked to the red-haired girl, Kimmie, but she folded her arms and narrowed her eyes at me. “I’m none of your business,” she said, “so you’d do better not to go poking around in it.”

  My cheeks burned. “Sorry. I didn’t mean anything by it. I just thought that since we were all stuck down here, we’d be better off knowing a little bit about each other.”

  “Ignore her,” Deanna said. “The girl’s got issues.”

  Kimmie pulled a face at Deanna, and I was surprised she hadn’t stuck her tongue out like a petulant child.

  I turned away from Kimmie, focusing on the other two instead.

  “So, what does he want with us?” I dared to ask.

  Deanna laughed, but there was no humor in the sound. “What do you think he wants with us? He wants to stick each of us with his dick, and when he has his friends around, he lets them stick it to us, too.”

  “One at a time? All together?” I looked around for answers.

  Deanna frowned at me. “You don’t seem very surprised about what I just told you.”

  “I’m not. I always knew why I was being brought here. It’s just what men do, isn’t it? They take women and use them for sex.”

  I thought to Angelo. He wasn’t like that, was he? We’d had sex, and then we’d run, but that was because we were in love, and he wanted to save me from this life. It wasn’t simply about using my body for his own pleasure. He’d wanted to give me pleasure, too, and take care of me, and keep me safe. It was completely different.

  “How long has it been since you learned you were coming here?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t know, exactly. Since I was ten, I g
uess. I can’t really remember a time where I didn’t know.”

  She was staring at me like I was some weird insect she’d caught in a jar. “And you never tried to run before now?”

  “Where would I have run to? I didn’t have anywhere to go.”

  She barked out laughter, and I jumped. “Fucking hell. And I thought my life was messed up.”

  A sound came at the door, and each of the women grew alert, scurrying farther toward the back of the room, or swinging their legs to the side of the bed farthest away from the door. The only one who didn’t move was Kimmie. She sat straighter, almost in anticipation, but then her shoulders dropped when the person entered the room, and she saw it wasn’t Torres.

  Instead, it was an older man carrying a tray. He dropped it onto the floor in front of him.

  “Food’s up,” he snarled. “Eat it off the floor like the little bitches you are.”

  Then he turned and slammed back out of the door. The lock clicked into place behind him, signaling that we were locked back in.

  I was starving. I hadn’t eaten in a long time, and the savory scent of whatever was in those bowls made my stomach gurgle and my mouth flood with saliva. I had to hold myself back from doing exactly what the man had suggested and getting to my hands and knees and shoving my face into one of the bowls like a dog. But I was new here, and I didn’t want to overstep my boundaries with the other women.

  Sure enough, Kimmie got to her feet and went over to the tray. She handed a bowl to Grace, and one to Deanna. Then she picked up the two remaining bowls.

  She handed one to me, but right before I could take it from her, she tipped it, spilling the contents—which appeared to be some kind of meat stew—onto the floor and over my feet.

  “Oops, sorry,” she said, not looking sorry at all. “You should probably clean that up. Sir won’t be happy if he sees you’ve made a mess on your very first day.”

  The stew was hot and had splattered everywhere. I was so hungry I figured I’d eat it off the floor, but I didn’t want to do something so shameful in front of the other women.