Chase the Pain: A Dark Mafia Billionaire Romance (Amatucci Family Book 1) Read online

  He waited until I looked up at him to speak. “Six, almost seven hours. Rafael said he gave you nighttime acetaminophen. He wanted you to get some actual sleep.” The small muscles around his mouth twitched for a moment as his eyes darkened.

  It dawned on me then. “You really were going to beat the shit out of him weren’t you?”

  “Hell yes I was. Look, I’m not a good guy. I’m not a knight in shining armor going around saving damsels in distress. Frankly, I hate most people.”

  I smothered a smile. “I’m not sure how to tell you this, Ryker, but you’re not very good at selling your positive attributes.”

  He shot me a wolfish grin. “If you’d listen, you’d hear I have no positive attributes. What I’m saying is that even on my darkest days, I’m not a fan of dosing anyone with anything. Be that sleeping medication or illicit drugs. People get to decide what to put in their own bodies. No one else.”

  “What if my life was in danger? Would you stab me with an adrenaline pen?” I asked.

  “Yes. But that’s assuming you have the pen for such uses. Helping save someone’s life who wants to be saved is the right choice. Stabbing someone with an adrenaline pen when they don’t need it to save them?” He shook his head. “Nope. Just not going to do it.”

  I tipped my head to the side. “What if I didn’t need the adrenaline, but wanted it. Would you still stab me with it then?”

  He shook his head.

  I smiled. “Why not?”

  “Because I’m not in the habit of helping people damage themselves. You want some pain? I’ll give it to you all day long. You want damage? You need to go looking for someone else.”

  My body began talking to me. Making certain needs known. “I have to pee.”

  He laughed, his big chuckles echoed in the glass enclosed room. “I think that’s the first time I’ve held a woman’s hand and had her say something like that. To the bathroom, cupcake.” He took a step back and turned so I could use his arm for balance.

  My cheeks heated. “Sorry. I’m used to saying anything and everything that comes through my mind. I never knew how much of a luxury that really was until it was taken from me.”

  He chuckled softly. “How did someone take away your brain/mouth filter?”

  Shit. I shrugged. “Not quite the filter.” I dropped his arm and hobbled into the bathroom. The wall was my support system. I closed the door in his face before he could ask me anything else.

  Easing down to the toilet was a particular brand of hell that I was all too ready to be done with. I felt like I had run a marathon by the time I was finished and able to wash my hands.

  Ryker knocked on the glass door. “You good? Still awake and aware?”

  I snorted. “Yeah, all good.” I bit my lip to keep the rest of my thoughts to myself.

  “Can I open the door?”

  “Sure.”

  He opened the door and leaned on the jamb. “So, you were saying about your brain/mouth filter?”

  I shook my head. “Nope. Not happening. I’ll let you feed me though.” I hobbled in his direction.

  He didn’t move. “What if I tell you I can help your legs feel better? Then will you tell me?”

  I bit my lip. Damn it. The man didn’t play fair. I tried to cross my arms. Almost fell over. Holding onto the wall, I asked, “Are you at least going to feed me first?”

  “That depends. Do we have a deal on the other?” His dark blonde eyebrows rose in question.

  I sighed. Right now, I’d give anything to make my legs feel better. And I’m pretty sure the jerk knew it. Besides, he didn’t say anything about sharing all of my story.

  I looked up at him. Nodded.

  He smiled. I don’t know that I’d been the recipient of his full smile before. His eyes crinkled in the corners, he had the cutest little dimple thingy near the angle of his chin. He should probably be registered as a weapon against women.

  The sudden urge to make cupcakes had my fingers itching. Bastard.

  He held out his hand for me to take.

  I looked between it and his eyes. “What are you wanting from me, Ryker?”

  “Right now, I’m wanting to feed you and help your legs feel better.”

  “And later?”

  “I’ve already told you what I want from you. That hasn’t changed.” He kept his hand up, his gaze locked to mine.

  “And if I told you I wouldn’t be sleeping with you? Ever.”

  He smiled. “I’d do my best to get you to change your mind. But I’d still feed you and help your legs feel better right now.”

  “As long as we’re on the same page, then yes.” I put my hand in his. Held his gaze. “You can feed me and help my legs.”

  Chapter 20 – Ryker

  Little Willow wanted to play a game? She was about to find out just what kind of man I was. I didn’t lose and I certainly didn’t back down. She’d thrown down the gauntlet. I was only too happy to pick it up.

  I’d have to bide my time a little bit longer. She wasn’t ready for what I wanted to do to her yet. But she would be.

  A small part of me laughed at my arrogance. This wasn’t a woman who played with her life. She attacked it. I could see her walking away at the end of this…whatever this was…just as happy as she was now not to be in my bed.

  My body screamed in denial. She was mine. I had to taste her. At least once. Just one taste and then I could move on. The longer I was in her orbit, the more she consumed my every waking thought. I needed to get her under me and then get her out of my mind. My life.

  I pushed all of that aside. Nothing was happening tonight except food and making her legs feel better. I had to win this battle first.

  We made it back out to the living area. I settled her on the couch, complete with ice packs on her thighs. I moved back into the kitchen section and panicked for a moment. What the fuck was I doing in a kitchen? I could barely boil water correctly, let alone cook for someone else.

  I turned to the huge fridge. Opened the doors and prayed for inspiration. I really wanted to know more about her slipped comment. I’d almost imploded when she escaped to the bathroom. Horror after horror ran through my head as I tried to think of a way to take away someone’s ability to speak. But only temporarily. Duct tape was the least offensive option I’d conjured.

  “Sandwiches okay?” I called, my head still stuck in the fridge.

  “Sure. Mayo, not mustard, please.”

  Thank fuck. I grabbed everything I could find that looked like it belonged on a sandwich. Laid it all out on the counter.

  She watched me over the back of the couch. “So, Ryker, what do you do with most of your days?”

  I looked up at her. “Mostly I tell people what to do and how to do it. You?”

  She snickered. “For some reason, I can imagine you doing exactly that. I get to play with pastries and cakes and dessert and cookies and anything that’s essentially bad for you.” Her smile sparkled.

  I examined her. “I don’t have a problem seeing you do that either. What got you into baking?” I asked as I slapped some mayo on her bread.

  When she was quiet for a little too long, I looked up.

  Her face was stark. Whatever color she’d gained after waking had washed away, leaving her eyes big green orbs in her tight, pinched face.

  “Cupcake?” I called.

  She blinked, shook herself. “Sorry.” She cleared her throat. “I got into baking because it brings people joy and I think more people can use a little extra joy.”

  I blinked. That hadn’t been anywhere on my list of potential answers. I looked at her. Her cheeks were pink again and her face had lost its tense lines. She meant exactly what she said.

  “How did you get into your line of work? I’d think there were a lot of bossy people available. What makes your kind of bossy so special?” Her shoulders shook slightly as her lips twitched.

  Oh, cupcake, you haven’t even begun to see my bossy side. “I took it over from my dad. PennCorp is i
nvolved in just about anything that has to deal with electronics or computers. A little of this—”

  “A sprinkle of that,” she finished for me.

  I nodded. “Exactly. Keeps things exciting.” I slapped the sandwich together, made a quick one for myself. “What’s to drink?”

  “I only keep water or tea in the house,” she called.

  I nodded. “Ice?”

  “Yes, please. Thank you.”

  I got us both glasses with ice water. Brought everything over to her. Set my plate on the coffee table. It had been a long time since I sat and planned to have dinner without business or fucking following.

  “So, how did you get involved with the Amatuccis?” I asked after she had taken her first bite. It was remarkably easy to just sit with her. The silence wasn’t suffocating nor was it awkward.

  She smiled as she chewed. Held a finger. She finished chewing and set her sandwich down. After she took a drink of water, she began. “That’s an interesting story. Kinda long and winding.”

  “Start wherever you want.” I took a bite of my own sandwich. Not too bad.

  “Well, Talia and I were in a girl’s school upstate. She was a couple years ahead of me, but we became best friends when some of the other girls were bullying her.” A smile curled her lips. “I was so pissed at those girls. High society princesses who thought they were special because their parents had too much money and not enough boundaries.”

  I took another bite of my sandwich. “What happened? Did you kick their asses?”

  She chuckled. “No. That would have gotten me in huge trouble. Not only with the headmistress but with my parents as well. No. Tali and I…we got even.” Her sage green eyes lit from within as an evil grin pulled at her mouth.

  My dick twitched. Damn, she was sexy in her vengeance.

  “How?”

  She cocked one brow high. “Ever heard of gaslighting?”

  I almost choked. “Seriously?”

  “Yeah, before it was actually called gaslighting. I got a group of girls together, other victims of this particular girl and her friends. We made their lives hell and they couldn’t figure out how or why.” She took another bite of her sandwich.

  “What happened to them?”

  “All but two of them transferred overseas to a school in Switzerland.” She toasted me with her water glass. “Tali and I have been together ever since.”

  I raised my glass to her. “Sneaky, manipulative, and sexy with it. And yet you bake for a living because people need extra joy in their lives. Where’s the disconnect in your path?”

  Her smile faded. “Growth, life experience, and the knowledge that I’m not nearly as important as I thought I was.” She took another bite of her sandwich, looked away as she chewed in silence.

  Well, shit. That turned dark fast. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to imply anything or take you down a dark path.”

  She shook her head, didn’t look at me. “Everyone’s got baggage.” With what had to be a herculean effort, she pulled herself back to the present. “What about you? Any soul-crushing memories you’d like to share?” She sent me a teasing smile.

  I chuckled. “Fresh out of those today.”

  The twitch of her shoulders told me I’d said the wrong thing. She pulled back even though she didn’t leave the couch. Shut down any kind of rapport we’d been building.

  Fuck. Something about this woman threw me off my game. I could read a room of business executives blindfolded, but this woman spun me around so much I couldn’t see with the lights on and my eyes open. I needed her to open up to me. I needed to know how to infiltrate her defenses in the fastest way possible.

  We finished eating in silence. And it wasn’t comfortable at all. Not this time.

  She wiped her mouth when she was done, set her paper napkin on her plate. Finished her glass of water before turning to look at me. “You made dinner, so I guess I’ll tell you what I said I would. You don’t have to worry about helping my legs. I think I’ll just go back to bed anyway. Get more sleep.”

  I opened my mouth. She was throwing me out? Seriously?

  Her eyes closed, she took a deep breath. When she opened her eyes again, her eyes were hard. Her walls insurmountable. “My ex-husband used to drug me. A lot. That’s how he took away my ability to speak whatever I was thinking.” She stretched her mouth into some kind of smile, but it wasn’t happy. Nor was it sad. But it demanded I not pity her.

  She grabbed her plate, leaned over to put it on the coffee table. She let the ice packs fall to the floor. “You know where the door is.” She pulled the blanket off the back of the couch and settled it over her, closed her eyes as she turned into the back of the sofa.

  I reached out a hand.

  “Don’t. Don’t touch me. Just leave.” She hadn’t even opened her eyes.

  I pulled my hand back before I set my plate on the coffee table next to hers. What the fuck was I doing? Trying to comfort her? I didn’t care about this woman other than getting her under me. That obviously wasn’t happening tonight, so I might as well leave.

  I rose to my feet as a dark churning ball of…something…filled my belly. I grabbed my coat and briefcase from their spot on one of her chairs. “Good night, Willow,” I called from the door. I stood there for long moments, hoping. Some stupid part of me hoped she’d say something in return.

  She was silent. I couldn’t even hear her breathing.

  I stepped outside her apartment and pulled the door shut softly behind me. Fuck. I’d hurt her. I knew that. Was even okay with it in some parts of myself. She didn’t need to get attached to me. And she didn’t seem like the kind of girl to not get attached.

  I tested the doorknob to make sure it had locked behind me. It turned in my hand like the well-oiled machine it was. I dropped my head to the door. I couldn’t leave her here, not without some kind of protection. She was immobile in there. Add to that, I had no idea when the Amatucci siblings were going to get home.

  I released a sigh as I set my briefcase down on the ground and settled in for a long wait. I stretched my legs out, leaned back against the wall, and closed my eyes.

  Someone would be along eventually.

  Chapter 21 – Willow

  Do not cry. Do not cry. Do not cry. I bit my lip to keep the tears from falling, my breath from sobbing.

  “Good night, Willow,” he said.

  Get the fuck out so I can breakdown! Just leave! I raged at him mentally. I needed this man and his ulterior motives out of my life. Not only did he want to have sex with me, but he also didn’t share any part of himself outside of surface information.

  I didn’t need those kinds of people in my life. And certainly not from someone who wanted to use my body for his own pleasure.

  The door snicked shut softly.

  Like the dam had burst, tears flooded from my eyes. I pressed my face into the back cushion and screamed as long and as loud as I could. He’d let me believe, for just a sliver of a moment, that I was…not important, really. But wanted.

  But he didn’t really want me. Or certainly not all of me. He wanted the package I was wrapped in. Hell, I wouldn’t be surprised if he wanted me for the connections to the Amatuccis. As much as they were the mafia in New Trenadie, they were valued members of the community. They had extensive business dealings all over the world.

  Get over it, girl. You don’t want a man anyway, right, my inner voice tried to soothe me.

  Right. I just want to make cupcakes and cookies and scones. I want to make people feel important and special and happy. Food did that. My food did that.

  I dashed the tears away. Reaching a hand over my head, I grabbed the box of tissues from the side table. I blew my nose and tossed the dirty tissue towards the kitchen where I would pick it up later.

  I closed my eyes, went over the three parties I had planned for this weekend. Work. That’s what kept me sane. What kept me stable.

  Natalie’s party was going to be a blast. The teen was a Potterhead like
I’ve never seen before. She’d showed me pictures of her room on her phone. Everything was done in Hufflepuff’s black and yellow. She even had a stuffed toy badger she’d named Puffles.

  Her cake was a seven-tiered giant that was made up of the Harry Potter books. Each layer was a different flavor combination of cake and frosting. I needed to get those baked and decorated tomorrow. I’d assemble them on Friday at the party. Everything else was ready to go for that party. The meat, cheese, and fruit trays I provided would be a good accompaniment to the sugarfest of the cake.

  Natalie’s mother had decided to use a separate beverage vendor for some signature virgin cocktails for the event. I was a little unsure about that concept, but it wasn’t my party, so my opinion didn’t really matter. I just wanted Natalie to enjoy her cake.

  Of the three events this weekend, I thought the Stanten event was going to be my favorite. The cake certainly was already. Shaped like a diamond, it was a white Italian wedding cake draped in fondant. Steamed to give it a high shine, and then liberally dusted with silver sparkles for that diamond dust appearance. The display, including cake, weighed about twenty pounds.

  The Higgins/Wellman wedding should be pretty easy. A simple chocolate cake with white buttercream frosting in a rustic style. Sliced strawberries for color. Sheet cake to serve. The caterer was covering everything else. Thank the good goddess. Just the thought of having to do a full wedding spread this weekend made my legs ache.

  Thank goodness for small favors. I could just present my cakes, make sure they got stored correctly, and show someone how to cut them before serving it. Easy peasy, lemon squeazy.

  As I’d hoped, my mind began to slow as I worked my way through the party plans and requirements of the weekend. I could feel sleep tugging at me. Pulling me under, away from the day that was so full of ugliness.

  I heaved a sigh and sank into her welcoming arms.

  Chapter 22 – Ryker

  An ear-piercing scream had me jumping to my feet, fists ready before my brain could catch up. I blinked my eyes clear as another scream shattered the silence.