Vicious (14 page)

“Did
you have a fight with someone?” he asked.

“Kind of.
I got mugged. I lost.” I tried to act staunch as I said this, I wasn’t going to let anymore pathetic tears come out of me.

He nodded as his
eyes took me in, and I felt like I was naked underneath his scrutiny. “Your life is pathetic.” There was no question there, he stated it like was fact.

Despite my beaten state, a little defiance and impatience reared within me. I lifted my chin and glared at him head on. “Why are you here?”

“Do you still need a job?”

The defiance faded
, and hope replaced it. “Yeah, I do,” I said softly. “I’m a good worker and —“

He shook his head. “It’s not that kind of job. Actually, it’s not really a job. It’s more of a position.”

I frowned. “What do you mean?”

He stepped forward
and took my hand. The nails were scraped and broken from hitting the concrete, and the knuckles still bruised from hitting Tim. His eyes raked over that hand with disapproval, and I tried to pull it away but he wouldn’t let me. His grip was firm, not quite painful, but there was no misunderstanding about who was in control here.

“I’ll let you be my whore.”
What?
I looked up at him in alarm. His cool eyes watched me, gauging me for a reaction. When I said nothing, he continued. “You’ll have a room in my penthouse and an allowance. You don’t need to work, but you do need to be at my beck and call when I want you and leave me in peace when I don’t.”

My mouth was open, but I didn’t think that I could have spoken. That was not what I was expecting.

He let go of my hand and peered at me. “Do you understand what I just said?”

“Um.
Yeah. But why—“

“You’re reasonably attractive, you’re good in bed. You’re not
stupid, you know that this arrangement would never turn into something deeper. This is convenient for me, that’s all, and, frankly, at the moment you look like you’re a week away from destitution.” He gave a small smile, but it was anything but warm. “I know girls like you, you can’t hide it. No family, no one to look out for you, no education or skills, you’ve survived this long by yourself, Violet, but how much longer do you think this can last?”

I swallowed. Stunned, I didn’t know what to say.
Whore
, kept echoing in my head as everything in me ached.

He opened his wallet and threw a card on the bed. “I’m busy, Violet. I don’t have time t
o wait around for your decision. Call me in the morning.” He moved past me, so out of place in his expensive suit in this dingy dive. I closed the door behind him and sat on the bed, staring at the card in front of me.

His name was printed in embossed
letters on the thick, white card.
Brody Nicholai
, it said, and a cell number was beneath it. The card itself was a personification of his money and arrogance. It didn’t give any title or explanation for what he did. I knew he owned restaurants, and I knew the Tim and Simon said that he had connections to a mob family and that he was dangerous. But every man I had ever known was dangerous in some way, except, perhaps, Damon. But I was biased in his case.

Whore, whore, whore.

The word shouldn’t have offended me. I’d been a whore plenty of times, every time I wanted something, with Damon, with David… Nothing had ever really worked out the way I wanted it to though.

If I did what he wanted, it would be just like what Connie was doing.  But on a far grander scale, and I wouldn’t h
ave to work as well. What was my other alternative? Trading sex on the street and ending up dying?

It seemed such a simple decision to say yes, but I couldn’t quite talk myself into it. I showered and washed away the blood, hissing when the water touched certain tender areas. A bruise was already starting to bloom on my stomach, by tomorrow it would be an array of purples as an ugly reminder. Before I went to be
d, I pushed the set of drawers in front of the door just in case.

I stayed up all night, staring at the do
or and waiting for the doorknob to turn. But it never did, even so, my anxiety didn’t lessen. When morning came, I still hadn’t slept. I had jumped at every noise that I heard all night, and my body ached with both bruises and tension.

That’s what made the decision for me. The pain, along
with that feeling of being wound so tightly that it would take just one thing to make me snap, and then everything would unravel. And if that happened, I didn’t think that I would ever get up again.

Whore
.

I wrote that on my bathroom mirror in dark purple lipstick. I wrote
it every day, and every day the cleaner would come in and by the time I returned to my room, it would be gone. The glass was clear, and the only thing marring it would be my reflection.

I took great care when applying my make-up. Brody had someone come in to give me lessons, and I would spend an hour each day brushing it on and p
ainting my mouth in bold colors; because there was nothing left to do. This was boring. I had been here a month and explored every room and read every book.

But I would mentally slap myself every time I caught myself complaining.
This was a different world, one in which I did not belong, and I needed to be grateful for every second that I got to spend here. It wouldn’t be long until Brody got sick of me. And then all the pretty clothes, the make-up, the food, it would all disappear and later I would probably wonder if it were just my imagination creating a fantasy as I went crazy with hunger and homelessness.

Lawson took care of Brody’s business interests, and apparently I was one of those. Where Brody was cold, Lawson was friend
ly, if not a little reserved. He sat down and gave me a credit card, explaining how much I was allowed to spend each month. He tried to give me car keys, but I told him that I didn’t know how to drive. This took him by surprise, and I took a little enjoyment in seeing his face change from being so serious.

Brody himself was absent a lot of the time. And when he was here, he didn’t send for me every night. When he did, the sex was wonderful, although he was just a
s cold and rarely spoke to me. He always came to my room, and we never had sex in his. It bothered me because I didn’t like him being in my room, I wanted to feel that it was mine. Any chance I could get, I would try to steer him to the living room so we could make love in front of the floor to ceiling windows which gave an optimal view of the night sky and her mistress, the moon.

If he were
in the mood, he would humor me with this. Other times he was impatient, and would just take me in my bedroom, lights on the way he liked it. It soon became clear that Brody had no respect or care for anyone but himself. There was no mistaking exactly what this arrangement was. A lot of Brody’s work took place at night, which should have been no surprise, because night was when bad things came out. Sometimes, he would wake me in the early hours of the morning, and I would have to comply with his demands.

But this was better than my life before, I had to keep telling myself that.

Connie was ecstatic, but she wasn’t allowed to visit. I was not allowed guests here. In fact, there were never guests here; only Lawson on occasion and the silent housekeeper. That’s why when the doorman rang up announcing a visitor, it was such a surprise that I was almost excited. Brody rolled his eyes. “Send her up.” He had just got home, earlier than normal because it was only eight o’clock.

“Do you want me to go?” I asked him from where I sat on the sofa.

“No, you may as well stay. I didn’t think I could keep you a secret from her this long anyway,” he muttered.

“Who?”

But the doorbell sounded
, and he strode away to answer it. He returned with an elegant woman. She must have been in her thirties, but she had one of those faces that was so perfectly made up and botoxed that it was hard to tell for sure. Her blonde hair was swept up in a chignon, and her shoes and bag matched, both were certainly expensive leather.

Brody
went straight to the bar and started pouring drinks. A bourbon for himself, and wine for us. The woman smiled and sat opposite me as I watched her.

“So, you’re the reason Brody’s been hiding away from us.”
She relaxed back, gracing a wide smile at Brody as he passed her the glass. The second one he gave to me before he sat in an armchair and drank his bourbon.

I wasn’t sure what she meant
because Brody didn’t spend a lot of time with me.

“I’m not hiding, Lisa. I just have no desire to attend any of your numerous, boring functions,” he said dryly.

Lisa didn’t look offended though, at his words or his tone. Her smile never faltered, and I guessed that she was used to him. “Anyway, Brody, why don’t you introduce me?” she asked pointedly.

Brody let out a slight huff. “Lisa, Violet. Violet, Lisa.”

Lisa rolled her eyes. “He’s so rude. I’m Lisa Mero, Brody’s stepmother.”

“You’re young,” I blurted out.

“Thank you.” She smoothed down her skirt. “And you are…?”

I didn’t know what I was supposed to say, but Brody answered for me anyway.

“Violet is none of your business. That’s what she is.” They stared at each other for a moment, and I saw Lisa’s smile falter only slightly.

“As you like.
Anyway, I just thought you might like to know that your father is bringing your little brother more into the fold. He’s giving him control of the hotels.” She watched him as if curious for his reaction.

Brody said nothing for a moment, and anger seemed to flash across his face just briefly. But then he relaxed and took another sip of his bourbon. “
Half-brother, Lisa, and if my father wants to put that kid in charge, that’s his business.”

Lisa leaned forward;
her smile was different now, more conniving and cruel. “You don’t mean that. He’s using you to do all the dirty work while the golden boy gets the glory and the more legitimate operations. All the money and very little risk.”

“Why do you care, Lisa?”

She straightened. “Because, I care about—“ She stopped and swung her gaze to me, giving me another smile, one that seemed softer. “Listen, Violet. Would you mind giving us a moment alone? I know that’s terribly rude of me but—“

I was already getting to my feet. “Take all the time you need.” I took my glass of wine with me
, and I headed to my bedroom. I wasn’t offended, whatever she and Brody had going on was none of my business. Instead, I ran a bath in my en suite bathroom, pouring in a generous amount of bubble bath. I loved this bathroom; everything was shiny, clean and marble. When the water was hot and deep enough, I stepped into the slipper bath, hissing a little as the heat.  I loved having the water so hot. I sat in there and sipped my wine, closing my eyes and dreaming that I owned a house that had luxuries such as these.

The door
opening interrupted my reverie, and I turned my head to see Brody standing there. I bit back the urge to scowl at the intrusion and instead forced a smile.

“Hi.”

He didn’t say anything, and just started to undress. Great, now I’d have to share my bath as well. He slid in behind me, so I was sitting between his legs. Taking a face cloth, he started to wash my back. That did feel nice, almost worth the intrusion. I wanted to ask about Lisa, about the tension. But of course, I didn’t. Then his hand glided around my front to wash my breasts. He didn’t use a wash cloth this time, instead his hand was filled with soap, and he rubbed each one slowly, not missing a single patch of skin and in spite of myself, my nipples started to harden. I almost spoke out in protest when his hands moved away, but then they slid down my body to between my legs and I found that I couldn’t speak anymore. He washed between my folds, before concentrating on my clit, stroking and circling it gently, but even that was getting too much. I leaned hard back against him, trying to thrust against his hand, but his arms circled around me, keeping me still.

I took several gasping breaths as I felt myself build up and start to quiver. That was when he met every need, and I threw my head back against his shoulder and cried out as I came. He help
ed me up out of the water as I recovered. I expected that it was my time to reciprocate. But instead, he got out of the bath and wrapped himself in the towel before leaving the room. I followed suit, drying myself completely before going into the bedroom.

But he wasn’t ther
e. The room was empty. I waited in bed for him to come back, but he never did.

I cooked us dinner. Normally the housekeeper left something, or Brody ordered in. On the frequent nights that he wasn’t there, I usually just made myself something easy. But I had been watc
hing a lot of cooking programs and figured I could do it myself.

I ended up roasting a rack of lamb. Having seasoned it just like they said on TV, I placed it in the oven. Perfect. Brody came out of his office and asked me to pour him a glass of wine, his phone rang and he sighed, stalking
back to his office as he answered the call.