Damaged for Him Page 4

  He lifted one of the silver cloches, revealing pastries and fruit. Memories of breakfast with Angelo hit me like a physical force in my chest, and I clenched my fists and bit the inside of my cheek to stop myself barking a sob. Even in this strange place, with no one around I knew, it still seemed like every little thing reminded me of him.

  “Everything okay?” he asked as he lifted some food onto the plate in front of me. He didn’t bother to ask what I wanted.

  I forced a smile. “Of course. This is lovely.”

  I noticed he hadn’t placed any food on his own plate. “Are you not eating?”

  “No, I prefer to watch you enjoy it.”

  My hand shook as I picked up my fork and stabbed a small cube of melon. I put it in my mouth, the sugary sweetness dissolving on my tongue, and quickly chewed and swallowed.

  “Good,” he praised. “Keep going.”

  He was watching me intently, his gaze fixed upon my mouth as I forced myself to eat the fruit.

  When that was all gone, he said, “And now the pastry.”

  I didn’t want to eat it, but I knew I didn’t have a choice. Using my fingers, I picked up the croissant and tore it in half, and then took a bite of the smaller piece. The pastry felt too dry in my mouth, but I kept going, chewing and swallowing, feeling his gaze on me.

  Flaky shards clung to the small amount of lip gloss I’d applied, and he reached over the table. His thumb swiped across my lower lip, dragging down the delicate skin and forcing me to open my mouth. He pushed his thumb across my bottom teeth and into my mouth, swiping across the surface of my tongue. His finger tasted faintly of coffee and something sweet. My heart pounded, and I hesitated, unsure what he expected from me.

  “Suck it, Catalina,” he demanded.

  I did as he said, drawing the digit deeper into my mouth. I swirled my tongue around the tip, imagining it was another part of his anatomy I was sucking, and trying to remember everything Angel had taught me.

  Suddenly, he pulled his thumb from my mouth and got to his feet. He pushed his chair back and stepped away from the table to approach me. My breath caught, every muscle in my body rigid with anticipation. He moved behind me. I was so conscious of his presence, just behind my right shoulder. It was as though he burned, and his heat pressed like a hand against my skin.

  “I had so many dreams for you, Catalina,” he said. “I’d been dreaming of you coming to live with me for years. I imagined how I’d treat you, differently to the others, like my little princess in her ivory tower. I was going to shower you with gifts and dress you in the finest clothes. You’d be perfect because no other man had laid a hand on you.” He smoothed my hair away from my face from behind, tucking stray dark strands behind my ears. “And then you went and fucked it all up.” His hands suddenly tightened in my hair, and he wrenched my locks into a ponytail in his fist. He yanked my head backward, forcing my head back and my chin up, my throat straining. I gasped and let out a whimper.

  He stared down into my face, his eyes filled with fury. “You ruined everything.”

  “I’m sorry,” I whispered. The pain in my neck was growing unbearable, sharp daggers shooting through the scalp where he pulled on my hair.

  He gave my hair another tug. “Sorry doesn’t fix anything, though, does it? We can never fix what you did. You’ll always be damaged goods.”

  It was only one man, I wanted to scream at him. One man who I loved with all my heart. But I knew it wouldn’t matter what I said. Like he pointed out, nothing could fix what Angel and I had done together. There was no way of taking it back. But given the choice, would I even want to? I could have come here and been treated like a princess, but never have gotten to experience those few days with Angelo. Would I have wanted that? I didn’t think so. Even if Torres treated me like a slut, I would never regret what we’d done together. Torres could rape me and kill me, but I’d go to my death with Angelo’s beautiful face pictured in my mind, and the memory of his arms around me to take me to my grave.

  But Torres was never going to kill me—not for a long time, anyway. I didn’t know what kind of money he ended up paying for me, since he’d forced Silas Cassidy to refund a large chunk of what he’d paid for me—but it would have still been enough for him to want to get his money’s worth out of me.

  Just when I thought he was going to let me go, he leaned down and crushed his mouth to mine. I froze in his grip, and his tongue pushed into my mouth. Though I remembered what Angelo had told me about doing what needed to be done, my mind went utterly blank, and I remained rigid, a frozen doll.

  He pulled away and finally released my hair. I slowly straightened, cautious of my neck, worried he might have hurt it badly. I wanted to rub out the knots, but I didn’t dare move.

  To my surprise, his hands covered my neck, and his thumbs located the exact points that had strained. He massaged my neck and shoulders with a firm but experienced touch, and I held back a sob. The massage felt good, but I didn’t trust what he was going to do next.

  Eventually, his hands fell away.

  “Have you had enough to eat, Catalina?” he asked, taking his seat back at the table.

  I nodded, terrified of what was going to come next. “Yes, sir.”

  “Good. Then you can go back to your room. Coyle will take you.”

  From out of nowhere, the man who’d delivered our food the previous night appeared in the doorway. Had he been there all along, listening to what was happening? I didn’t suppose it mattered. He’d probably seen and heard a lot worse.

  Shakily, I got to my feet. I kept my eyes down, frightened that doing the slightest thing wrong was going to make Torres angry again. Though my neck ached, I thought I’d gotten off lightly.

  But I knew this was only the start.

  Chapter Six

  “I can’t keep you confined to your room for the rest of your life,” my father said to me from the open doorway of my bedroom. “You’re a grown man, not a child.”

  I got to my feet, putting the book I’d been reading before he’d walked in down on the bedside table.

  “I’m aware of that. I’m not the one who wants to be confined here. You keeping Bruno armed in the corridor outside is what’s doing that.”

  “If I let you have access to the rest of the compound, you’d better not let me down, Angelo. I don’t want to have to order for my one and only son to be killed, but you’d be forcing my hand. Your betrayal is already reflecting badly on me.”

  “I never planned on betraying you, Father. What I did had nothing to do with you—it was all about her.”

  “And that’s what worries me now. I fear you’ll do something else stupid if I dare take my eye off you.”

  Sensing a thawing, I held up both my hands. “That’s not going to happen. I lost my senses for a couple of weeks, but it’s over now. It’s like the moment she was taken away, the spell was broken.”

  “Absence makes the heart grow fonder,” he said with a lift of his eyebrows.

  I quirked the corner of my lips. “Really? Seems to me like absence makes the heart not really give a shit.”

  He chuckled at that, and I dared experience an inkling of hope.

  “Look,” I tried, “it’s not as though I can cause any harm on the compound. You said yourself that I’m not going anywhere. Everyone here is loyal to you, and that hasn’t changed. If I’m going to be here anyway, put me to work, give me something useful to do and make good use of my time.”

  What I really wanted was access to his office, but I’d be pushing my luck to mention anything along those lines. I hoped he might suggest the idea himself, however.

  He rubbed his hand across his lips. “Maybe I can find you some manual labor to do.”

  It wasn’t quite what I’d hoped for, but it was a start. “I’d appreciate it if you could. I know you don’t owe me anything, but I’ll lose my mind trapped in this room for much longer.”

  I held my breath, not wanting to push him any further in case he suddenly
changed his mind. I didn’t know what I’d be able to do to help Catalina simply by being allowed out of this room, but it was a start.

  “Okay. Idle hands make for idle minds, or whatever that saying is. The yard is full of leaves, and they need raking. I’m sure you can manage that without getting yourself into trouble.”

  It was something. It would mean I’d be able to get out of this room and figure things out.

  “I’ll get on it right away. Thank you, Father.”

  He jabbed a finger in my direction. “Don’t let me down. I mean it, Angelo.”

  “I understand.”

  I didn’t give a fuck about letting him down. My whole life, I’d tried to play to his rules. I’d tried to grow into the man he wanted me to be—a younger replica of himself—and I’d gone along with it because I didn’t know anything different. He’d used violence to manipulate my behavior at every defining point in my life while I’d been growing up, resulting in me living a life that was pure loneliness and for me to be riddled in anxiety. The only things that mattered to him were money and power. If he loved me—if he loved Catalina, as he said he did—he could have let us go. He could have paid off Torres and let us live our lives, but he didn’t. His working relationship with Torres was more important to him than the happiness of his only son and the girl he’d watched grow up. Any final grains of love or respect I had for the man had hardened to stone the moment he’d handed Catalina over to Torres. I hated him now, and I’d happily see him dead, if that was what it took. But what I was most afraid of was doing something wrong and pushing Catalina even farther away, or doing something that would get word to Torres that I was coming for her, and either force him into hiding her, or even worse. Would he be prepared to kill her before he handed her over to me?

  Silas left the room, and I waited until I knew he’d be back in his office and quickly changed into jeans, a t-shirt, and boots—clothes suitable for manual work. I left the room, expecting to find Bruno or one of the other men standing guard outside, but the hallway was empty. My father must have told them to stand down, at least inside the compound. I was sure if any of them saw me trying to sneak out, things would be different.

  But there was no point in me trying to leave—not before I got information on Catalina’s possible location. I needed more to go on, and this was the best place for me to find it.

  Stepping out into the fresh air, I drew a lungful deep and was immediately hit with a pang of guilt. Was Catalina able to breathe in fresh air where she was? Or was she even more of a prisoner with Torres than she had been here? After what we’d done together, I doubted Torres was treating her kindly, and though I didn’t regret what we’d done, I did blame myself for that.

  I sensed the gazes of everyone I passed as I made my way to the store shed to find a rake and a tub for the leaves. I caught a couple of snide sneers from Paul and Rufus. Oh, how the mighty had fallen, I guessed they were thinking. Only a matter of two weeks ago, I’d arrived here in an expensive car, with my expensive clothes, and taken over as the lord of the manor for a week. But I’d managed to royally fuck that up, and so now here I was—no better than a member of the grounds staff.

  What they thought of me didn’t matter. Nothing did without Catalina.

  I found what I needed and got to work, scraping the fallen leaves together into piles, working my way around the compound. We were surrounded by forests, and heading into fall, so there was plenty for me to do. If the leaves weren’t raked, they’d start to decompose and turn into a mulch, which would then freeze and become perilous once the temperatures dropped. I reached the back of the building and paused for a moment as I took in the spot where Catalina and I had climbed the wall. We’d been so full of hope then. So deeply in love, and desperate to be together. Yes, we’d both been terrified of getting caught, but being together had been so much more important.

  The memories tore into my heart, and I gripped the handle of the rake tighter, my knuckles white. I was wasting time with this shit. I should wrestle a gun off one of my father’s men, storm to the office, stick the barrel in his face, and demand that he tell me where Catalina was. Anger and adrenaline built inside me at the thought, my body tense as I fought against the desire to do exactly that. But then the sensible part of my brain came into play, and I pushed the impulse back down. Even if I did manage to get a gun off one of the men, they outnumbered me four to one, and if I stormed into my father’s office, demanding information, he’d pull out his gun and probably shoot me himself.

  I couldn’t help Catalina if I was dead. I needed to remember that.

  “Hi, Angelo,” a female voice said from over my shoulder, dragging me from my thoughts.

  I turned to find the blonde woman, Bianca, standing there. She caught my eye and smiled.

  “It’s good to see you again,” she purred, sidling closer. “I always knew you’d come back to me.”

  I sighed and dropped the rake, then lifted the bottom of my t-shirt to wipe the sweat from my face. “I haven’t come back to you. I was forced to come back. There’s nothing between you and me. You must realize that.”

  Her gaze flicked down to where I’d exposed my stomach when I’d lifted my shirt, and she arched her eyebrows. “You didn’t give me that impression when you were shoving your cock down my throat.”

  The memory flashed through my head—me with my back against the wall, and her on her knees in front of me, my hand in her hair. I had shoved my cock down her throat, and I’d used the hold on the back of her head to ram it even deeper. I shouldn’t get turned on by the memory, but still I experienced a tingle of arousal.

  I shook my head, even as she took a step closer, so the space between us was only a matter of inches now. “Just go, Bianca. I’ve got work to do.”

  “Aww, I’m sure your daddy won’t mind you having a little break. I bet he’d even be pleased to hear you spent some time with me. It might even make him realize you really are over Catalina.”

  I wanted my father to trust me, but I didn’t think even I could take that step. But then Catalina was putting herself through far worse with Torres. No, I didn’t want Bianca, and I could convince my father to trust me without her. I knew how hurt Catalina had been the last time, even though we hadn’t properly been together then, and I wouldn’t do it to her again.

  Bianca must have seen the hesitation on my face. Her hands went to my pants, pulling at the zipper. Frustratingly, even the close contact of her was enough to make my dick hard, but it definitely wasn’t what I wanted. I batted her hand away, knowing having Bianca around wasn’t going to get me any closer to getting Catalina back.

  “Get off me, Bianca.”

  Hurt glared in her blue eyes. “Why? Why aren’t I good enough for you when she was? She’s just a whore, like the rest of us. Don’t think that because she was a virgin until recently that she’s anything special. I bet she’s been fucked by numerous men by now. I doubt she can even remember your name.”

  Her words stabbed like glass in my heart. She’d spoken my biggest fears out loud, and I clenched my fists at my sides, holding back the desire to lash out at her. Bianca hadn’t caused this. It wasn’t her fault. Taking out my rage and grief and misery on this young woman wasn’t going to fix anything. Catalina would still be gone, and I’d still be trapped here, torturing myself with the images of what Torres would be doing to her.

  “Catalina and I have history. We grew up together, and I’m in love with her. It doesn’t matter what Torres does to her, or anyone else, for that matter. I’ll never change the way I feel about her.”

  She took a step back. “Better not let the master hear you saying those things, because it sounds to me like you’re not getting over her at all. Everyone is talking about what happened between the two of you, and how you disgraced your own father. You’re lucky he let you live, and right now you don’t exactly sound sorry.”

  My stomach sank at her words. Had I done the wrong thing by pushing Bianca away? Was she going to run to m
y father and repeat everything I’d just said? Unease coiled inside me. I didn’t like not being in control of a situation, and right now everything felt like it was spiraling.

  I couldn’t let Bianca think she had the upper hand.

  I narrowed my eyes at her. “Who do you think he’s going to believe? Some bitch? Or his own son?”

  “After what you did, I don’t think things are looking your way.”

  “Don’t do this, Bianca. I’m warning you.”

  “Or what?”

  I moved in closer again, jabbing my finger into her face. “Or I’ll make my father look like a fucking pussy cat compared to me. You have no idea what I’m capable of, Bianca. Don’t force me to show you.”

  She paled and dropped her gaze. “Fine,” she muttered as she turned away from me.

  I waited until she’d turned the corner of the house and was out of sight before I allowed myself to exhale a shaky breath. I clenched and unclenched my fists, trying to pull myself together. I didn’t want my father or any of the other men to see me and suspect that something was up.

  I didn’t like having to threaten a woman, but I’d do whatever was necessary to make sure I found Catalina again.

  Chapter Seven

  The man, Coyle, opened the door to the room and pushed me inside.

  I staggered a little but kept my balance, and the door slammed shut behind me, the lock clicking into place.

  The other women all looked up in expectation from their positions around the room.

  “Well? What happened?” Kimmie demanded.

  I didn’t know what to say. “Umm... We had breakfast. At least I had breakfast. He watched me eat some fruit and a croissant.” I remembered what happened after, but couldn’t bring myself to describe it.