Permanent Lines (17 page)

With the morning traffic, cars and taxis everywhere, if took a bit to get downtown.
The high rise we pulled up alongside wasn’t near the stature of Miles’ Times Square
apartment, but was still way more glamorous than anything you’d ever catch me living
in. Before the driver got out, he turned to speak.

“Mr. Blackwell’s living quarters are on the top floor. The elevator to the left is
his and will bring you right up to where you need to be. The doorman and desk personnel
are expecting you and will see that there are no troubles in getting you safely inside.
I will have your bags delivered soon, as well.”

I nodded my head, appreciative, even though I wanted to chuckle … bags? We had none
of those. Just one, actually. And that was it.

“Thank you,” I replied before taking Amelia’s hand and stepping onto the sidewalk.
I really did owe Miles. In the six hours since I’d called him, he managed to have
everything set up, keeping our safety at the forefront.

When the elevator doors opened, we were greeted by an older woman in a maid’s uniform
who was holding two chilled glasses of water. As nice as it was, it was fucking weird
too. I’d never had
anyone
waiting for me with a drink in hand, ready to wipe my ass if I needed. As much as
I appreciated the gesture by Miles, it wasn’t gonna happen— this nice lady would be
free from her duties while we stayed here. I didn’t like the idea of some stranger
all up in my face, waiting with a beverage or a warm towel or whatever. Not to mention,
I was in a trust no one state of mind. I didn’t know her from Adam—who the fuck knew
who she was or where she was from? Granted, I’m sure Miles Blackwell didn’t have just
anyone working for him, caring for one of his homes. I’m sure this lady was stripped
clean and background checked all the way back to the day she popped out into this
world, but I still wasn’t convinced. We obviously needed someone to do our minor shopping
for food, but the chick was not living with us, around us every second of the day—that’s
where I had to draw the line.

I spread the fakest smile I could across my face and accepted the drink, saying, “thank
you,” as pleasantly as I could as Amelia and I both took the glasses of water from
her hands.

“I’ll be just down the hall. The refrigerator has been freshly stocked. Please don’t
hesitate to ring me for anything.” She smiled and nodded before turning towards the
hallway on our left.

Oh dear Lord, I was shacking up with Mrs. Doubtfire! I looked to Amelia, who seemed
to be eating this up, a huge grin spread across her face, the biggest I’d see on her
in a while. I shrugged my shoulders; I guess if it tickled her fancy to have a servant,
then I could deal with it for a bit.

We did a quick exploration of the apartment as we sipped our waters. It was as clean
and extravagant as their place in Times Square, just a bit smaller. I guess if I was
going to be on house arrest somewhere, this was a place I wouldn’t mind staying.

“I’m gonna take a shower,” Amelia said once we made it to the master bedroom.

I wrapped my arm around her waist, bringing her body flush to mine, our faces only
inches apart. “Mind if I join you?” I asked, wiggling my eyebrows. I wasn’t the least
bit enthused about our situation, but I was finally in the same place as my girl after
being separated for so long. As fucked up as life was at the moment, a little R and
R with my girl wouldn’t be the worst thing.

Her lips curled into a devious smile. “I suppose.”

I smacked her perfect little plump ass as she turned towards the bathroom. “Go get
all naked and shit. I’ll be right in.”

She chuckled as she walked away, shaking her ass cheeks at me as she did. Staring
at Amelia from the back was something that would never get old. My girl was fucking
fine and there was nothing is this world that I loved more than studying it.

I used the two seconds alone to take a breather, sitting on the edge of the bed with
my head in my hands. The phone that the driver slipped me before exiting the car buzzed
in my pocket. I took it out to see who it was. There was no name on the screen, but
I recognized the number. Kayla.

“What’s cookin’, good lookin’?”

“Seriously?” she replied, venom dripping from her voice. “You’re seriously joking
around right now?!”

I rolled my eyes, sighing. “Trying to make the best out of it. What’s up?” I asked,
my voice back to the straightlaced, no shit tone.

“What the hell, Merrick? Why?”

I tilted my head back and closed my eyes. Here it was, the
why the hell would you get involved with someone like her
discussion. “Don’t even go there, K.”

She let out an exasperated breath. “I just got off the phone with Miles. Do you understand
how much danger you guys are in? It’s bad, Merrick.”

I returned to my original position with hand holding up my head, elbows rested on
my knees. I sighed shakily. “I’m well aware, but thanks for the reminder.”

“Don’t be an ass to me! We’re the ones trying to help you.”

My blood was starting to turn heated. “You think I don’t know this? You think I don’t
appreciate all that you and Miles are doing for us?” My anger was started to show
in my volume. “Shit, Kayla. I finally find the girl I fell for again and all of a
sudden I’m wanted by the fucking mob! Of course I fucking know how deep I’m in.” I
paused. “And don’t for one second blame this on Amelia.”

She snorted. “How can I not? You weren’t on the mob’s most wanted before she walked
into your life.”

“This wasn’t her choice. You can’t help who you fall for.” I took a deep breath, not
wanting to think about Amelia once in love with another man. “You should know better
than anyone else. I fucking love her, and that’s it.”

“I’m sorry. I get it. I just frickin’ hate it.”

“Well, it’s not a walk in the park for us either.”

“All right. Well, Miles and I will be over tonight. He has some things he wants to
talk to you about.”

“Thanks, darling.”

“Be safe, okay?”

“Love you too, K.”

As soon as I hung up with Kayla, I hightailed it into the now steaming bathroom, running
into walls as I eagerly stripped down to nothing. Her hair was already slicked back,
soaked, her cheeks slightly pink from the heat. Her eyes, though … God, Amelia’s eyes
were all I saw when I looked at her. I’d never seen green eyes like hers. They were
amazing greenish-blueish-tealish pools, like the clearest Caribbean waters, outlined
with the darkest, thickest lashes I’d ever seen. They pulled me in, putting me in
a trance. I couldn’t fucking describe what happened every time I looked her in the
eyes—everything around me just vanished. Like in the movies, like I’m walking on those
ridiculously fluffy clouds in a pussy-whipped chick flick. Amelia was my own personal
chick flick, sucking me in with those damn huge eyes.

I gave her face a once over, shaking my head with a mischievous grin. “Damn baby,
you are so fucking hot,” I groaned, wrapping my arm around her waist and pulling her
wet, naked body close to mine.

I bypassed her lips and went right for her neck. I was already ready to taste every
inch of her warm, heated skin. With just the first suck of her neck, her body went
limp, her breathing heavy. I grinned against her skin, loving the way her body reacted
to mine.

The further I traveled the more intense her grip became on my back, her nails dragging
so exotically against my skin that I was sure she could draw blood.

“Oh God, Merrick,” she murmured, her tone sexy as hell as I pulled her hard, puckered
nipple into my mouth.

I wasn’t a huge one for tits, but with Amelia, everything was different. They fit
perfectly in the palms of my hands and tasted better than any tit should. It was like
fucking Christmas between the both of them, making me want to hang out there all day,
taking turns between them both. Not to mention, she fucking loved it. With every suck
and flick of my tongue, her moans increased and her back arched, pushing them further
into my face.
God, it was fucking wonderful!

But I wanted more, to get a taste of something else. Licking each tit before departing,
I continued my way down, bringing her left leg over my right shoulder, but something
made me stop, making my heartbeat race and anger climb. I finally got a good look
at her tattoo, the one that was always too dark to make out in the bedroom.

I stood up and took a step back, shaking my head, speechless. “Are you fucking kidding
me right now?” I pointed to where it sat, right above her pelvic bone. “You let him
brand you?”

The blood completely vanished from her face, all sense of hormone-induced pleasure
gone. “It was a long time ago …”she started to explain.

“It’s a fucking chastity belt, Amelia … with his fucking name written inside of it!”
I threw my hands up in the air. “He fucking pissed on your stomach like a damn dog
marking its territory,” I added, whipping open the glass door to the shower, any trace
of desire gone from my body.

She followed behind, water dripping all over the floor. “Merrick … stop! Please.”

I turned to face her. “How the hell am I supposed to make love to you when you have
permanent lines from that fucker painted on your skin?”

Her chin dropped to her chest as tears streamed down her face.

“Huh? You wanna tell me how the fuck I’m supposed to love you when I have his name
staring me in the goddamn face?”

“I don’t know,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

I yanked the towel from the rack, wrapping it around my waist. “Exactly!” I added
before turning and walking heatedly back into the bedroom.

I put my hands on my hips and looked down, closing my eyes as soon as I was out of
her sight. The magnitude of it all was hitting me, the anger that I was carrying inside
seeping out in full force. The bastard was haunting me from every angle. He had me
by the fucking balls, controlling every aspect of my life and relationship. He didn’t
need to be in the room or threatening my life, he had me down on the ground already,
pinned with no way of tapping out.

By the time Amelia came out of the bathroom, I was already dressed and in the living
room. I was jonesing to get out, take a walk, clear my head, do
something
, but I was stuck. I knew the controlling fuck that Antonio was, but to have it smacked
in my face every time I looked at my girl’s stomach made me sick.

I reached for the TV remote, if that’s what you wanted to call it. The thing looked
so high tech, with everything digital on a little screen, that I wasn’t sure I’d be
able to even turn the TV on.
Fucking Christ!
I didn’t even bother with it, putting it back on the coffee table where I found it.

I was chomping at the bit already being on house arrest; it was like I was withdrawing
from a drug—I was antsy and jittery as I looked around for something to do. I couldn’t
handle it. I was a workhorse, always doing something. Whether it was for the bar or
racing, I was always busy. This fucking sucked, and the more I sat around doing nothing,
the more I thought about how fucked my life was. All because of a girl. My fucking
father was probably rolling around in his grave on this one. He always told me to
never settle for anyone, even if she had a nice ass body and could blow my mind in
the bedroom. He never mentioned what to do if I would fucking die from loving her
so hard.

I rested back on the cushions of the couch, hands intertwined behind my head and looking
up at the ceiling. This would be a good fucking time for my old man to be around.
There weren’t many times that I reached out or prayed for his guidance, but dammit,
I was now. I’d like to think I was making the right choice, that the belief that real
love didn’t come by twice was true, that she was the one.

When I heard the elevator door chime open, I turned quickly, glancing over my shoulder
to see who was here. Kayla and Miles weren’t supposed to be here until later. What
I saw made me leap from my seat, shouting for her to stop.

I jumped over the back of the couch, my legs not moving as fast as I wanted them to,
almost falling on my face before the doors shut. My hand caught in the small opening,
grabbing them before they closed.

Her eyes were bloodshot, her face still wet from the tears. “Please, Merrick, let
me go!” she pleaded, trying to remove my hand from the opening.

The doors spread back open, allowing me to stand in the frame. “How many fucking times
have I told you you’re not going anywhere?”

My eyes shut and my chin dropped to my chest when I realized what I was saying—I was
demanding that she stay, the same as Antonio had done for years. What if she didn’t
want to stay? What if the painting I colored in my head was one-sided? The doubt of
her love for me was plowing into me like a ton of bricks.

I looked up, pain consuming my body. “Do you not love me? Is that what this is about?”