CHAPTER 16
Otelia
SNAP OUT OF it, you stupid, stupid cow.
Darragh MacCabe was an evil bastard with a blackened heart, a damaged soul, and zero propensity to see past the dollar signs of his own personal greed. He was a brutal savage both beautiful on the outside and repugnant on the inside. He kidnapped you and held you against your will for forty-eight hours while blackmailing your friend to fight to the death. I knew all this, yet despite that, I wanted him, or better yet, I wanted his parents’ story for my own retelling someday. He’d romanticized their union perfectly, as if he understood that it was something I needed to hear, instead of the apology I’d demanded for hurting me. It was the next best thing to someone like me. Someone driven by the search.
What exactly was I searching for? Two days ago, I would’ve been able to say, without hesitation, that it was the prospect of love and all that entailed. Date after date, man after man, I ran through the routine of checking all the boxes that would make a good match.
Strong.
Protective.
Family oriented.
Driven to succeed.
The list went on, but sadly, I’d yet to encounter anyone who made it past two or three checks before the relationship ended and I was forced to start all over again. I’d had my heart broken more times than I cared to remember, but I couldn’t give up. Mac could never understand how much his parents’ story moved me to the point of tears. That stupid background check he ran would only give him a glimpse into the inner workings of Otelia Mae. Bullshit words written on a piece of paper don’t explain loss, heartache, pain, and longing.
Mac checked none of my boxes; if anything, he was the perfect example of what not to do when looking for more than a one-time fuck. As I looked over and studied him, I felt an overwhelming sense of sadness that the hour of our separation drew nearer. My overblown imagination conjured up images inside my head of little MacCabes running around screaming, “Mommy, Mommy,” while I danced in the rain with a smile on my face.
I really needed to get a fucking grip.
“So, that’s where you inherited your dark hair from. Your mother must be a rare beauty.”
“Not so rare, Otelia. There are a few who match it,” he said on an exhale. “Some…exceed it.”
“Oh yes, I suppose they would.”
My heart fluttered unexpectedly. Was Mac referring to me in that equation? Men often made comments about my looks, how I should’ve been a model instead of working at a diner. I usually laughed at their silly compliments and chalked them up as corny pick-up lines. Not so much with this man. With him, I wanted to believe them as truth. Did captivity turn me into this person, someone who makes excuses as to why their abuser abuses them? Battered women all over the world were shaking their heads at me for ignoring the warning signs. It was easy to rationalize my decision concerning the mob boss. After tonight, I never had to see him again. After tonight, I’d tell myself it was all just a bad dream, a nightmare from which I had awoken. After tonight, my time with Mac would be over and I’d say goodbye.
“What’s going to happen next?” I probed. “Will you swear me to secrecy by blood oath not to tell anyone what happened by cutting off my ear? Will I have to sign a contract binding my first-born daughter to the mob if I go to the police?”
“You’ve been watching too many movies, kitty cat. That shit doesn’t happen in real life. Besides, no one would believe you anyway. As far as the world is concerned, there are other things to worry about than some underground fight club.”
“Okay, you got me. So, what’s really going to happen?”
“Well…” He exhaled, scrubbing a hand down his handsome face. “After the fight, you’ll be reunited with your friends. I assume you’ll hug it out, then we’ll each go our separate ways.”
“You make it sound so simple.”
“Of course, nothing could be simpler. Mecken will win the fight, I’ll collect my cash, and all will be right with the world. I’m expanding to the West Coast, Otelia, and I need the capital. Believe me, these last two days have been as hard for me as they were for you.”
“I doubt that, Mac.” I snickered. “Your plan sounds really dangerous. Are you willing to die for something so fleeting? Money is the root of all evil, they say.”
“Die? No. But I am willing to kill for something so fleeting,” he admitted.
“Whatever floats your boat, I guess.”
We lay in uncomfortable silence, time slowly ticking away as reality set in. I was going home soon, and I couldn’t wait to get out of here. I’d get to have my life back, my friends, and my freedom. What more could I ask for?
“Taking over someone else’s territory can be dangerous.” Mac snapped me from my thoughts. “But I have everything I need to see things through. No need to worry for me, Otelia.”
“Oh, I wasn’t…” The bastard was smiling. “You’re such an asshole sometimes, you know that? I hope the supermarket runs out of your favorite flavor of ice cream and you’re forced to buy sherbet.”
“Harsh.”
“See, I can be mean sometimes too. Think I’d make a good mob boss?” I joked.
“Don’t know. You’d have to do a lot of bad things, like inviting perfect strangers to spend forty-eight hours in your home while seeing to their every need. Not worth it, if you ask me. That shit’s a pain in the ass, especially when that person eats like a newborn piglet.”
“What?” I squealed in mock offense. “Why, you big old…”
I jackknifed from my prone position on the bed and made a lunge for him. I’d teach his know-it-all ass to mess with me. Newborn piglet. I’d show him.
I reached for the closest thing to me, which happened to be his nipple, and twisted with all my might three hundred and sixty degrees to the left. A rumble erupted from his muscled chest. It sounded inhuman, a cross between a growl and a snarl. As soon as I thought I had the upper hand, Mac took over using a move straight out of World Wrestling Entertainment. Shazam. My legs flew out from under me, and I was flying through the air without a damn parachute. I landed on my back with an audible oomph, out of breath and weighted down by two hundred and fifty pounds of fire-breathing man.
Holy fuck balls.
That was intense.
“If you were trying to hurt me, I suggest you use an alternative method of torture, one that doesn’t involve making my dick hard,” he rasped, inches away from my face. He grabbed hold of my hands and held them above my head firmly yet somehow without causing pain.
“Duly noted.” I panted. “Although, had I known the results ahead of time, I might’ve twisted your titty a whole lot sooner, Darragh.”
“Good thing you waited until the end. I might not have been able to control myself.”
“Pfft, control is overrated anyway.”
The words were rough as they escaped my throat. His predatory glare began to waiver as he caught sight of my bruising neck from this close of a distance. His breathing slowed to a steady pace as I watched the war inside of him being played out between the creases in his brows. I implored him with my eyes to take a leap with me, to throw caution to the wind for just a few short minutes. Forget about being the cruel mob boss with an appetite for money. Ask me, and I’d say yes. Command me, and I’d fall to my knees to please him.