104. Gritting her teeth and summoning the fighting strength that had kept her enduring all those years under Aldo’s perversions, she scooped up her backpack, shoved in the few toiletries in the bathroom, and left the motel room. Her key was on the nightstand, and the maid would find it in the morning—assuming they actually had a maid. She hadn’t seen one in two days. The bus station was less than two blocks away, and she huddled into her hooded sweatshirt, clasped her backpack, and darted down the street. Rain fell from the gray sky, and it perfectly matched her sour mood. Somewhere sunny would be a nice change, and she hoped she could make it in time to catch the bus to Atlanta. It would still take two days to reach the Georgian capital, but she had nothing but time to kill. The bus station was in sight when a chill ran down her spine. Mia turned her head to the side, mouth opening in an O of surprise when she saw Wallace step out from the mouth of an alley. Her heart h
105. Her stomach curled with dread as he went to a large cabinet. The angle wasn’t good enough for her to see everything within, but she saw enough implements of torture to send an icy trickle of sweat down her spine. He returned a few minutes later holding something composed of metal and leather. She eyed it, struggling not to betray her fear at the sight of metal bars, chain links, and leather cuffs. “Take off your clothes, Mia, and I promise I’ll go easy on you for a bit.” Mia shook her head, but she didn’t try kicking Wallace when he entered her cell a moment later. Instead, she pressed her back against the wall and remained passive as he approached. It was surprisingly easy to quell the instinct to resist as he came nearer, and it didn’t take deep self?analysis to figure out why. Fighting Aldo had been a matter of pride and necessity. He seemed to regard her resistance as a nuisance, but he’d wanted her enough to deal with it. Shane had viewed it as a challenge, an
106. Even not knowing exactly what Shane had planned for her, Mia was still relieved to see him when he entered the basement two days after Wallace had taken her from the street. Her first thought was he looked like hell. His normally robust tanned skin was pale, and his face looked gaunt, though he couldn’t have lost much weight in the four days since she’d seen him, even with a gunshot wound. Her gaze darted to the sling encasing his left arm, where she could see the bulky bandage covering most of the left side of his chest and clavicle underneath the thin fabric of his T-shirt. It was insane, but she had to physically bite her tongue to keep from asking how he felt and fretting over him being out of the hospital already. The reality of her position and situation made it easier to rein in the concern. She lay on the cold concrete, naked as the day she was born, with her hands cuffed to her ankles, which were spread by a metal bar. It was an obscene, undignified pose, b
107. Mia slid the garment over her aching arms, wincing as she overextended the strained muscles before zipping the fleece up to her neck. Thank goodness it was old and oversized, meaning it fell to mid-thigh and would provide enough coverage to mostly maintain her modesty in front of the household staff and Shane’s goons. Determined not to look weak or victimized—or betray her fear—Mia squared her shoulders and walked beside Shane. She didn’t meet the gazes of the few people they encountered, but nor did she drop her head with shame. None of them knew for sure that she was being punished, and it mattered to her not to appear weak to them, though she didn’t know why. She let the cool mask lapse a bit when Shane escorted her into his room. She’d half-expected to end up back in the bedroom where he’d kept her confined initially, so it was surprising to be in his suite. A loud meow greeted her, and she bent down carefully, conscious of the stiffness permeating her body, to
108. Mia’s mouth was dry as she tried to explain the sordid history with Aldo Peretti. “I guess you should know I’d never even met Aldo until the day of the wedding. I’d only met Stefania a couple of times at that point.” Shane sat down in his chair, tugging her down to sit on his lap with his legs pinning hers together. She couldn’t move. “I wasn’t thrilled to have a new stepmother or stepbrother, but Vadim didn’t care about my input.” “Your father strikes me as a selfish man.” She had to bite her tongue to resist the urge to point out he shared traits with her aloof father. “It didn’t take me long to warm to Stefania, but I never liked Aldo. He made me…uncomfortable.” “How old were you?” Shane took her hand, squeezing gently. To her great surprise, she found the touch comforting. “Twelve. He was nineteen, so he shouldn’t have had any interest in me, but he seemed to go out of his way to try to engage me in conversation or spend time with me.” She swallowed. “At first,
109. Nausea churned in her stomach, and a tear streaked down her face. “He told me Vadim had relented and was prepared to sign the marriage certificate so we could get married before I turned eighteen.” Turning slightly, though her legs remained pinned, she curled a bit closer to Shane instinctively. “That crazy bastard was planning to make me marry him within days. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t let him keep me, so I went to Stefania.” The tears came faster as she remembered the frail woman lying in the bed. Her stepmother had been as pale as the white bedding behind her, but her eyes had sparkled with anger, and her cheeks had turned red as she had listened without interrupting as Mia confessed years of sexual abuse at the hands of her son. “What did your stepmother do?” “She saved me.” Mia drew in a deep breath. “I don’t even know how she did it exactly, but she helped me escape that house and found me a job with Arvin Lovelle. He’d been her boyfriend long ago, and I t
110. The image of holding Mia underneath him as he took her in the shower that first night flashed behind his eyes, and he cursed. With a vicious thrust, Shane slammed his other fist into the wood, grunting at the mental relief the physical pain provided. He had taken her without regard to her feelings on the matter. Blood spattered from a shredded knuckle when he hit the wood again. Shane had held her down, stroked her to make her wet, and forced her to accept him. Her body had been ready, but clearly she hadn’t. More blood and another squishy thud of flesh against a solid object. He wanted her, needed her, and ached for her. Shane had been obsessed with her for months, but he hadn’t wanted to hurt her. He hadn’t even given it much thought either way. In his arrogance, he had never considered that she wouldn’t want to be taken as his property. Had he imagined she would be flattered by his attentions once she got past the mafia thing? If he’d given it any thought—and he
111. Mia had to bite her lip forcefully to hold in a cry of pleasure when Shane cupped her breast in his hand, tugging gently on her hardening nipple with his thumb and forefinger. It was harder than hell not to react to his coaxing touches She didn’t resist when he turned her head to kiss her. Somehow, Mia kept her reaction minimal, only softening against him and opening her mouth when his tongue pressed against the seam of her closed lips. He probed the depths, but she remained passive. Inside, she was a writhing mass of need, and her panties would be sodden if she had bothered to wear any. He broke away, his hand holding the back of her head in a grip that was a bit tighter than necessary. His dark expression revealed his annoyance. “We had an agreement, Mia.” Shane’s voice was hard, and his eyes dared her to renege. She swallowed the thick lump in her throat. “I know, and I’m trying. I’m not pushing you away.” He scowled. “You aren’t engaging either. I’d rather hav