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“Uh oh,” Slayer says dryly. “It’s never a good thing when you start thinking.”
Just as long as he’s not thinking about me, though I know that’s too much to ask. Whatever he’s cooking up, it definitely involves me, whether I want it to or not.
“Vanessa, did you and your sister ever play pretend growing up?” Giulio kisses the side of my neck. “Y’know. Stuff like dragons and princesses. Master and slave. Cops and robbers.”
I tense, not liking where this is going. His role play fetish just gets more and more ridiculous every time he brings it up, and I want nothing to do with it—except I remember what Elena said.
I remember having to scrub that filthy fucking bathroom because I’m just one of the girls.
I got a taste of what my life might be like if I wasn’tGiulio’s, between his made-up client and my time downstairs, with Stef’s story ringing in my ears, and I don’t like that thought at all.
I might as well play along, right?
“Not really,” I say, though, which is the truth. “She was never really interested in things like that. I just read a lot.”
“I guess it’s a great time to start practicing. Since we’ll have to play with our kids.” Giulio licks my earlobe. I can feel his breath tickling my skin. “How about it, Slayer? Want to do a round of cops and robbers? You be the cop, of course, and I’ll be the robber.”
Slayer laughs. “Yeah, whatever. As long as this game ends with me getting my dick wet, I’ll even play the hostage if I have to.”
Which is probably the role I’ll get to play in their game. The idea of getting to be the unwilling victim sounds familiar enough, and I won’t even have to act for that particular role.
Until the part where they expect the captive to give in, I’m sure, but I’ll handle that when it comes up.
I yelp when Giulio starts to lift me up—and we both collapse back onto the couch in a dull thud.
“Damn, you’re too big for me to carry,” Giulio says with a laugh. “I guess I didn’t just pick you up and run.” He kisses my shoulder once more before moving me to the side. “All right, let’s see… bank robbery? Something more sinister? Ooh, I know. Detective Slayer over there chased renowned criminal Giulio Pavone into a run-down building… Neither of us aware that young, naive Vanessa had run away from her controlling daddy and was hiding out there.”
He takes my wrist and starts dragging me toward the bed.
“I doubt there would be a bed in a run-down building,” I protest, but I let him pull me along. Again, I remember Elena’s words of warning, and instead of arguing more, I say, “You should let me go so I can try to… erm, hide. So you can find me. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” I hold my breath, unsure of how Giulio and Slayer are going to react.
Slayer stares at me then bursts out laughing. “You’re getting her trained nicely, Jules.”
I’ve caught Giulio off guard, too, but after a second, he grins at me. “Sure. Behind the bed, then.” He lets go of me, and I quickly scurry to crouch on the other side of the bed.
Maybe if I draw this out, they’ll be too tired to do too much for me.
“Hey, Detective!” Giulio whisper-calls. “You don’t have to do this. We could come to an arrangement of some sort.”
“Arrangement?” Slayer barks out from somewhere near the doorway. “I don’t make arrangements with criminals. The only way this ends is with you handcuffed and in a cell. Come quietly and I won’t have to rough you up.”
They sound ridiculous, and it’s almost enough to make me smile.
Almost.
“There’s gotta be something you want. I’ve got money. Connections, even… wait, did you hear that?” Giulio thumps on the bed. “There’s somebody else in here.”
As if I would make noise if I was attempting to hide from them.
“Don’t try to distract me, Pavone,” Slayer says, sounding genuinely dangerous—but that’s no surprise. I’d heard him use that same exact tone with the cop he’d killed in my room. He knows how to make himself sound authoritative, that’s for sure. “Hands in the air.”
Maybe if I don’t budge, they’ll continue this ridiculous-sounding role play.
“I’m fucking serious. You want to risk somebody getting the drop on you? Let’s just see…”
Giulio walks around the bed and stops in front of me, putting on a very exaggerated look of surprise. “Well, well. What do we have here? Not a rat. A cute little bird.” He grabs my arm and drags me upright. “Who are you, girl?”
This suddenly feels less ridiculous and more immediate, and I squirm, trying to free myself—but he’s got a good hold on my arm, and I’m not going anywhere. “Please! I’m not in the way. I won’t… I won’t tell anyone about this,” I plead.
