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I didn’t want my wife taking care of me either, not when she was nearly eight months pregnant. I wanted to wait on her around the clock, to get her ice cream in the middle of the night then rub her back so she could fall asleep. But my parents had been doing all the heavy lifting, driving her to doctor’s appointments and making sure she took all her vitamins when she was supposed to.
Even if I wasn’t completely back to full health when the baby arrived, I wouldn’t care. I was going to be in that delivery room. I was going to hold my son or daughter. I was going to drive them home from the hospital. I refused to let anyone else do those things. “Have you heard from Vanessa? Is she in Florence yet?”
“No,” Father said with sadness. “Haven’t talked to her.”
Mama cleared her throat. “She’s busy. She’ll call when she gets a chance.”
My father was a constant worrier, and the mention of Vanessa made him fidgety. “Maybe I should call her. I just want to check in and make sure she’s alright. It’s been two weeks.”
“Crow.” Mama flashed him an irritated look. “No.”
“I won’t be on the phone with her long,” Father said. “I just want to know—”
“No,” she repeated. “The last thing she wants to do is talk to her parents right now. She needs space, Crow. Give her space.”
“You don’t think two weeks is space?” he asked incredulously. “How’s Griffin’s shoulder? Is he doing alright? Are they right down the road? Can I visit them? That’s all I want to know. Two weeks is long enough.”
Mama continued to glare at him.
I’d rarely seen my parents fight. I wouldn’t really consider this a fight, but it seemed like it could easily turn into one.
“Look,” Mama said. “I don’t want to say this so bluntly, but your daughter has been reunited with the man she loves. She wants privacy, Crow. Catch my drift?”
Father immediately dropped his look, like he didn’t want to acknowledge what she’d just said.
“She’ll call when she’s ready to talk to us,” Mama continued. “And after everything that has happened, they deserve this time together. They aren’t thinking about anyone but themselves right now—which is perfectly fine.”
Father still didn’t look at her, clearly uncomfortable by the subject. “What if I text her?”
Mama rolled her eyes. “Forget it, I give up.” She turned to me next. “I’m glad you’re like your father, but don’t be too much like him.”
I glanced at Muse then looked away. “I think it’s too late for that.”
Twelve
Mia
My captor was an enigma.
The only thing I knew about him was his name—Carter Barsetti.
Sounded familiar, but I didn’t know where I’d heard it before.
I hadn’t seen him much for the past week. He left for a while to attend to business and had one of his maids watch me. I was chained up the entire time, even when I used the restroom. I didn’t get to shower while he was gone. Like a caged animal, I sat there and waited for my owner to come home.
Owner.
I was a slave—again.
I lay my head on the pillow and looked at the ceiling, the skin around my ankle irritated because the metal from the cuff was suffocating. There was nothing for me to look forward to. I didn’t have a TV or even a book to read. All I did was waste my life away by sitting alone in a bedroom.
But it was still preferable to Egor.
When I made my decision to go with the Skull Kings, I knew I was taking a serious gamble. But my master was so cruel, so psycho, that I had to assume a new master would be better.
But so far, I knew nothing about the man who bought me.
Other than the fact that he was young—and surprisingly handsome.
On my first day here, I saw him shirtless, in just his sweatpants. He had tanned skin, Italian good looks, and his body was carved from marble. With dark hair and deep brown eyes, he was easy on the eyes. A chiseled jaw, furious eyes, and a nice mouth, he was the kind of guy you would hope hit on you at a bar.
Why did a man like him need to buy a woman?
So far, he seemed much preferable to Egor. For one, he hadn’t hit me. I’d jumped out of his car and he’d caught me, but he never backhanded me. I came on a little aggressive, but he still didn’t strike me. I called him a bitch-hole, but he never called me something derogatory in return. But then he pinned me to the floor and threatened to rape me.
So, he wasn’t entirely good either.
But he was definitely a tremendous improvement over Egor.
If Egor ever tracked me down to retrieve me, which I doubted, I would have Carter to fight for me, since he’d spent a fortune on me. And while they fought like cats and dogs, I could run off.
