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But he stops just short.
He pushes my hair back from my face, brushes his fingers over my forehead. “Just a scratch.” He holds me at arm’s length, squeezing my biceps. “You’re too fucking stubborn for your own good. You could have knocked your head into that pole.”
I touch the spot that feels a little tender, but my fingers come away clean.
“I don’t like boats.”
“I wouldn’t put you on it if it wasn’t safe.”
“It clearly wasn’t safe.”
“It was fine. You decided to be an idiot.”
“I’m not an idiot. You just told me you’re recruiting my fifteen-year-old brother to become a soldier. What kind of life will he have? I wanted to get him out of it, not embed him more deeply into it. It’s not fair, Cristiano. Not for him. Just let him go. Even if you keep me. Let him go.”
He doesn’t answer right away and for one millisecond I wonder if he’s considering it. But he gives a shake of his head. “I can’t do that, and you know it.”
“Sir,” a voice interrupts and I look up to find three SUVs lined up with men beside each one.
“Be right there, Antonio,” Cristiano says, handing him the discarded coat.
Antonio walks away and Cristiano turns to me. He wipes away the tears that I’m not sure are falling because of my near surprise swim or my getting upset about Noah.
“You’re all right. You’re safe.”
I shove his hands away. “I’m not upset because I don’t feel safe. I haven’t been safe in ten years. I’m upset because nothing will change. I’m upset because maybe it would have been better if you’d just had my uncle pull that trigger two more times.” I don’t mean it. Why did I say it?
“Dead is never better, Scarlett. Never.”
“I mean, ultimately, that’s what’s going to happen to my brother. To me.”
“God you’re fucking dramatic.” He pulls me toward the second SUV.
“Fuck you.” I resist all the way, and no one does a thing. Not one of the men gathered here. Not that I expect them to.
He sighs, wraps his hands around my waist and lifts me into the backseat. He rests his hands on my thighs and even for as high as the vehicle is, I still have to look up at him.
“Isn’t it better than locking him up in that cell?” he asks.
I try to shove his hands away, but just then he cocks his head, glances down.
Shit.
He must feel the file I strapped to my leg. It seems so stupid now as he pushes the dress up a little on my thigh.
“What have we here, Little Kitten?” He takes the file out of its makeshift strap constructed out of hair ties and tests the point. He looks at me, eyebrows raised, then turns to the man behind him. “We’ll need a minute, Antonio.”
“Yes, sir,” Antonio says, turning his back as Cristiano climbs into the backseat and closes the door.
I fold my arms across my chest.
“What did you think you’d accomplish with this?”
“I don’t know, poke an eye out maybe?”
He smiles.
No, it’s more of a smirk.
He sets the file aside but before I can even register what’s happening, he flips me face down over his lap and smacks my ass so hard I cry out in shock.
“You need to learn to behave,” he says, adjusting my position, tucking me closer to him and smacking my other cheek.
“Ow! Let me up!”
“Not happening, Little Kitten,” he says just before flipping my skirt up.
He stops short the instant he does, sucking in a breath. Because I’m not wearing underwear. I didn’t have any.
“Let me up!” I reach back to at least cover my butt and he grabs both wrists in one hand.
“What’s this?” I hear laughter in his voice.
“I didn’t have underwear, you jerk! Let me up!”
He tsks and when I kick my legs, he shifts his to trap them between his thighs.
“We’ll put panties on our shopping list,” he says calmly before spanking me three times. “Although I’m tempted not to.”
I crane my neck to look up at him. He’s trying hard to keep a serious expression on his face. “Stop it. I mean it. And this is in no way funny.” My face feels hot.
“It’s funny from my vantage point.” He raises his hand to smack again and I squeeze everything tight, my eyes, my fists, my butt.
“What do you want from me?” I call out as I process the sting.
“Well, I’d like to turn your pretty little ass bright red for starters.”
“You’re a fucking Neanderthal.” I try to kick, but it does no good.
“And you have a very nice ass, Scarlett.”
“Fuck off.”
“Look at me.”
“No.”
“No?” He smacks again and tears sting my eyes. Then he starts rubbing my butt in lazy circles and my wires must cross because all I should feel is pain. Pain and humiliation and brutal injustice. But his hand on me right now, him holding me like he is, that’s not all I feel.
