Trapped in his End Game (Series)

A scared face stares back at me from the mirror. She’s all dolled up-lips in a deep-red shade of hue, hair ironed straight, a necklace shining at the base of her throat, golden hoops dangling from her ears, and a long, seductive dress flowing down her curves.

She looks petrified.

No amount of makeup will erase the truth blazing on my face: that I was kidnapped. I was coerced, but it doesn’t feel like it anymore, does it? I barely blinked an eye when Tommy told me I’d never be free from him. Maybe being freed from him scares me more than being his captive. What would I do? Where would I go?

I take a deep breath and unlock the door of the bathroom, finally stepping out after more than an hour of being inside. Tommy sits in the living room, looking breathtakingly handsome in his suit. He hears the sound of my heels clipping on the wooden floor and turns around. An appreciative whistle splits the silence. He stands up immediately, that dark look smoldering his face again. He raises his hand to my face, but at the last moment touches my neck instead.

“I won’t ruin your makeup. I can’t promise anything for later tonight, though.”

I clutch the hand on my neck. “Tommy, I can’t do this.”

The desperate note in my voice makes the smile on his face disappear. “Yes, you can.”

“I can’t face them-not after everything-”

“I know it’s hard, but I’ll be with you the whole time. I promise.”

“I just don’t understand why I have to be there.”

He sighs, closing his eyes. “It has to be done. If they see you with me, it’ll make your testimony unreliable. It’d be even better if they caught us banging at the party,” he adds in a husky voice.

I push him away, swallowing the anger I’m barely containing inside me. Their faces cycle through my mind: Vincent, Joe, Jack, Nicky. I ratted them all out, and I’m going to see them. I’ll have to look them in the eyes and swallow my pride.

This isn’t fair.

“Hey, look at me.”

The tone in his voice stirs hope in my chest. I look at him.

“I won’t let anything happen to you tonight. You just have to be brave for me. Most of it’s drinking and dancing.”

I nod at his smiling face and he kisses the tip of my nose.

“Come on, let’s go.”

We gather our coats and I grab my clutch, and he follows me out the door. The icy wind howls the moment we step outside, and I climb down the steps to his car.

We’re going to some sort of mob charity dinner.

“It’s a great way to touch up a muddy facade,” Tommy explains.

Cops love to attend these events-it’s an opportunity for them to wire the place and eavesdrop, but business is never spoken there. It’s really just a night for fun, to look charitable in the public eye. Makes them look good. It’ll just be an opportunity for the feds to see that I’m alive, to make me an unreliable witness. It’ll make it easier on me when I retract my testimony.

He parks the car somewhere in Midtown, and Tommy flags a taxi so we don’t have to walk the five or so blocks to the event. He’s just trying to be nice, but frankly I’d prefer walking through freezing snow than taking a taxi directly there. It’s better to prolong the inevitable.

I cling to Tommy’s jacketed arm, grateful for his warmth. He gives me an amused smile as my arm locks around his in an iron grip, preventing him from leaving the taxi. A blush rises in my cheeks and I let go of him, immediately missing his warmth, but Tommy stands up and I grasp his waiting hand. I shiver against him, the shrug draping my shoulders doing little to keep me warm.

We approach the venue, Tommy peeling several hundred dollars from a roll and handing them to a man in a tux, who ushers us inside.

Heating vents from overhead blast us with warm air as we walk through the glass doors, into a dimly lit reception hall. White tablecloths cover dozens of tables, all of which have beautiful centerpieces. Dark branches with white iris flowers intertwined in the wood reach up from the center of the tables as white candles glow softly around them. Soft jazz music plays from a stage as we weave through the tables, the smell of food sickening my stomach as Tommy takes my waist and drags me around.

Finally I spot Vincent and what must be his wife sitting at a table set for six. Jack Vittorio sits there, too, and my stomach clenches with the memory of his foot kicking my side. His wife sits in a glittering white dress, looking bored. Nicky sits with his wife at a nearby table.

Oh no. No, no, no.

It’s too late. Tommy brings me close to the table and Vincent’s eyes narrow in malevolence. Fury swirls in his black eyes, which give me a poisonous look. He opens his mouth aggressively, but Jack places a hand on his arm. His wife, however, peers at me curiously. She’s dressed in blue silk, as beautiful as her husband, but without the hostile gaze.

“Adriana, Carmella, this is my girlfriend, Melanie. Hey, Jack.”

My what?!

Shocked beyond belief, I don’t even see the hand floating in my vision. Tommy digs his elbow in my side and I take Adriana’s hand, my lips spasming under her beaming smile.

“Nice to meet you!”

I can tell from the smile on her face that she has no idea who I am, or the part I played in her husband’s indictment.

Holy fuck.

Stiffly I walk toward the boss’s wife, who gives me a cool smile and a limp hand to shake. Vincent’s widened face tells me that he’s not the only one who is surprised.

He’s just saying that. He has to in front of the women.

“Tommy, where’ve you’ve been, you sneaky fuck?” Nicky’s voice cracks through the quiet table, but his face darkens when he sees me standing beside him. “What the fuck is she doing here?”

His tone earns scandalized looks from Adriana and Carmella, and suddenly Tommy appears at his side, whispering in his ear with a cruel grimace. I sit down at the table and feel cold panic creeping over my skin, deliberately avoiding Adriana’s curious looks.

“Good to see you, Adriana, Carmella.” He nods politely in their directions as he returns to the table, meeting Vincent’s furious gaze. “Hey, Vinny.”

Contempt rolls from his gaze and he grips the stem of the wineglass, his fingers so white that I’m sure it’ll explode. He nods his head, apparently not trusting himself to speak. I don’t dare look at Jack, who wasn’t as good at hiding his disgust for my presence as Vince.

A small, feminine voice suddenly pipes up. “Melanie, are you all right?”

The mention of my name snaps my head to the left as I carefully avoid her husband’s heavy gaze. The concern written on her face fills my body with lead. I never felt guilty for ratting on her shitty husband until now. I never thought of Vincent’s wife, or any of their wives, except to feel sorry for them.

“I-I’m fine.”

Her eyes wrinkle a bit. She doesn’t seem to believe me, and then I feel Tommy’s lips against my neck and my muscles freeze. He kisses the shell of my ear as his hand snakes around my back.

“Calm the fuck down,” he whispers into my ear.

Seriously? How am I supposed to do that?

I can’t calm down, even in this beautiful place with the jazz music softly playing in my ear. The men surrounding me look at me with a promise shining in their pitiless eyes.

I’m going to die.

My hand slides over his lap under the tablecloth and I grab his thigh, pinching him hard to relieve some of the stress shaking my limbs.

“We’re going to get a drink,” he announces to the table.

He grabs my hand in a vise grip and I rise from the table, Adriana’s face shining with concern. She immediately bends her head to her husband when we walk away.

I chew my lip hard, nearly crying with relief when we reach the bar. Tommy pulls me into his arms, gazing down at me with a serious look. “You have got to relax.”

“Why?” I hear my voice croak. “Why is it so important?”

He sighs, turning toward the bartender to order a couple vodka tonics. He leans over the bar, passing the drink down to me. “You want to live, don’t you?”

I wrap my hands around the drink and a hoarse grunt leaves my mouth as I nod my head.

“Then you have to act like you are completely head over heels for me.”

A bit of the drink slips down my chin as I swallow a huge gulp and sputter, fire blazing down my throat and watering my eyes. He chuckles and takes a sip of his own, pulling me into his chest. His fingers splay over my bare back and the brief contact doubles the warmth blazing down my body. A single finger tips my head backward and hot lips and tongue take my mouth, the biting taste of alcohol lingering on him. My mind swims when he pulls back, even though we’re just standing still.

I don’t want him to let go.

The blaze inside me kicks up and I pull his head closer. “Tommy, I don’t have to pretend with you.”

Nothing betrays the small, pleasant smile on his face. “Don’t you?” his deep voice rumbles.

No, and I can’t tell you how fucked up that is.

“I don’t understand what’s happened to me.” Taking the drink, I tip my head back and another large swallow makes me giggle.

Tommy thrives under the attention. For weeks I rejected him and now he has me eating out of the palm of his hand. It must feel good. He bends closer, speaking lowly so only I can hear him.

“I wish there was a room somewhere I could take you and fuck your brains out right now.”

His voice sears the back of my head and my eyes scan the place, searching for something with my drink in hand. I take his hand in mine and tug.

“Where are we going?”

I stop abruptly and he bumps into my chest. “Somewhere you can fuck me.”

I know I’m already drunk and the devilish laughter he gives me sends heat pounding in my core. The bathroom is a logical choice, and I find a handicapped one with a lock in the door, pulling him inside quickly. Tommy’s laughs echo in the tiled room, his hands smoothing my shoulders.

I lock the door and turn around.

He’s grinning ear to ear. “Are you serious? You want me to fuck you here?”

“This night will be a lot easier if you’re inside me for at least part of it.”

Tommy’s face turns pink for a moment, but he quickly recovers, shaking his head and grinning. “Jesus.”

Then my back slams against the door as he covers my tits with his hands, groping hard as his mouth crushes mine. My head rolls against the wood as his lips trail down my neck, sending clenching pleasure between my legs. Everything is somehow amplified with the alcohol coursing through my veins. Every thought, every small caress on my skin revolves around getting that thickening bump in his slacks between my legs. His face buries between my tits and my nipples roll in his mouth, sending electrical shocks throughout my skin.

Normally I would be disgusted with the thought of fucking in a bathroom, but this one is pristine. There’s not a drop of water on the marble counter and the mirror is free of smudges. Also, I’m drunk as fuck and there probably isn’t a place I wouldn’t mind fucking him right now. My hands slide down his torso, over his waist, and over that thick bump hardening between his legs. His body responds, his hips grinding against me as he lets out a hissing groan. I curl my fingers around his cock, stroking the length and feeling the pebbled crown of the head.

“Fuck me, Tommy.”

It’s like a magical phrase that unlocks whatever door he has inside his head, keeping his sanity from escaping. His arms wrap around my legs and he lifts me into the air, setting me on the counter. His face is frenzied with passion. He slides his hands under my dress and his fingers rub against the thin lingerie, brushing where the wetness seeped through. Fingernails grasp the thong I’m wearing and he rips it down my legs, stuffing my panties deep inside his pocket. My pussy clenches at the cold air stinging my wet folds. He makes it worse by flipping my dress over my stomach, exposing me, but his warm hands run all over my thighs.

A nasty grin widens his face, and he bends down, parting my legs. His breath billows over my pussy, and my hands contract over his shoulders.

“What are you doing-oh!”

Suddenly a wet heat engulfs my pussy and I gaze down in amazement, watching Tommy’s lips and tongue sucking my clit. He latches on and pulls hard, his tongue flicking against my clit. A harsh whine lifts to the ceiling and I bury my hands in his head, thoroughly messing up his hair.

His hands run over my thighs as he reaches back with his tongue, running along my slit as I contract against him. Oh my God, it feels so good. Then he pulls back, breathing hard as he kisses my inner thigh. Fingers play with my clit, and my chest heaves as he looks up at me.

“I thought I told you that I was the boss of you.”

Breath hitches in my chest as his fingers sink into me, and I let out a long groan. “Y-you are.”

“Then where the hell do you get off on giving me orders?”

A small grin escapes through his hardened facade as I sputter out nonsense, too aware of the fingers arching inside me. Then he bends back down and I feel his breath warming my pussy. His mouth devours my clit, tongue nudging the sensitive flesh as he digs in with his hands.

“I wasn’t-oh, Tommy! Please. Please-I need you!”

He arches his back and stands up straight, the fierceness in his eyes back again. He strains his slacks over his cock, and my heart rate picks up when his thickness bounces out of the confines of his pants.

Neither of us can wait anymore.

My legs wrap around his waist and a brief, blunt pressure sits on my pussy, and then we both exhale identical groans of relief when he slides in. I lie on my back, crying out when he takes hold of my hips and thrusts deep, impaling me in one swift stroke. I grasp his arms and then he fucks me in earnest. It’s a nonstop, merciless pounding, completely different from the other times we’ve fucked. A quick, hard fuck.

“Your pussy always feels so amazing,” he sighs. “I can’t keep my hands off you. You’re just so-fucking-sexy.”

He punctuates every word with a jerk of his pelvis, his cock burrowing deep. It’s painful and overwhelmingly good. He’s so big that I’m almost tempted to scream for him to stop, but every cell inside me cries out for more. The fingers he used on me smear over my lips, and I open my mouth to suck them.

“Yeah, that’s right. Taste yourself.”

Suddenly my ass explodes in pain as he rips his hand down over my left cheek, the blow burning my sensitive skin. I’m an animal, reduced to only the basest feelings of pleasure and pain. I crave both from his hands, and he always seems to know exactly how hard to push me, increasing my threshold for both.

“Look at me.”

Flat on my back, I look at Tommy’s brown eyes, narrowed in exertion. Beads of sweat roll over his forehead and I reach up, wiping them away. He wraps his hand around my throat and squeezes gently.

“Do you trust me?”

Another deep burrow of his cock sends my voice to the ceiling. “Yes!”

“I’m not going to hurt you.”

The hand around my throat slowly squeezes as he pounds away. I’m oblivious to the fact that fewer air travels through my throat. His cock pulses inside me, my muscles clenching around him, and the lightheadedness only amplifies every sensation. My airway closes so that only a hair’s width of oxygen makes it into my lungs, and still I don’t fight him. His other hand suddenly gropes my breast, and I arch my back, chest flush against his as he leans down.

His forehead touches mine as he grimaces and chokes my neck, black spots now prickling at the edge of my vision. His hips jar me again, his cock stuffing me to the brim, and then I convulse around him. The hand around my throat releases and I gasp for air, hearing the same desperate breaths from him as he holds me tightly, emptying his cock inside me. His lips brush over my neck, kissing where he held me.

Never have I been so grateful to breathe. I wrap my arms around his shoulders and kiss him, bliss turning my muscles to mush. My body feels wonderfully sore, every inch of me still sensitive from the waves radiating from my core. As he pulls away from me, his forehead still resting on mine, a strong sensation pounds in my heart. I can see the same thing throbbing in his eyes.

Then he shakes the look from his face and stands up, pulling out of me with a kind of drunken backward stumble. “Well, goddamn, Melanie. You are-” he shakes his head, smiling, “unpredictable.”

Is that all I am to him? A great lay?

He helps me stand up, still unwilling to let go of me. I turn around and get a view of myself in the mirror.

God, we both look like a mess.

It takes at least ten minutes for us to clean up and look presentable, and by that time someone hammers on the bathroom door.

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Tommy, however, grins. “Oh well.”

Right. I suppose this is one of the least horrible things he’s done in his life. Why would he care?

But he wraps an arm around me with an unconcerned smile as he rips open the door. An old man in a wheelchair looks at us, irritation crossing his features.

“Sorry, man.”

Tommy gives the old man a small shrug and the patented I-just-fucked-that, smug look. The old man can’t help but grin back. I’m mortified as he drags me out of the bathroom, back to the table where our food waits for us.

“Sorry, we, ah-just had a few drinks at the bar-”

Vince hardly looks up from his plate. “We saw the whole thing.” Then he finally gives him a small smile.

Carmella’s face twists with anger and Adriana’s face burns brightly, but probably not as badly as mine must look. My whole body heats and I cringe at the sound of Jack’s laughter.

“Hey, don’t look at me. It was her idea.”

One of them says something in Italian that I don’t understand, and the men roar with laughter. Vincent’s fists pound the table, rattling the silverware, and Tommy escorts me to my seat. Hatred paints my vision red as I stare at the white tablecloth, my mood suddenly ruined. I just can’t be around these people and relax. Now they must think I’m some kind of whore.

I glance at Tommy, who digs into his plate, unconcerned. He doesn’t look ashamed. Every so often he leans over to kiss the shell of my ear and whispers something sweet. Jack watches these displays of affection over the rim of his glass, his expression unreadable.

Why is he doing this in front of his boss? I’m the enemy, aren’t I?

I hardly touch my food, even though my stomach growls with hunger. Around Vincent and Jack, I can’t lower my guard. My head stays down during the dinner. I’m counting the minutes until I’m done with this goddamn charity from Hell, and then Tommy tugs at my arm.

“Dance with me.”

I look into his smiling, oblivious face and shake my head. “I can’t dance.”

“Doesn’t matter. Let’s go.”

Sighing, I obey the pressure in my arm as Adriana looks at us wistfully. “I wish I could get my husband to dance with me.”

Vince rolls his eyes at his wife and throws an arm around her shoulders, giving her a tender look that I never thought was possible to see on his face. He almost looks human. They’re all human, aren’t they?

The arm on my waist urges me forward, and we sweep through crowds of people to reach the dance floor. Suddenly a cold hand latches around my arm, stopping me.

“Ms. Ronaldo?”

A man I’ve never seen looks at me as though I must be an apparition. Tommy turns around with a scowl on his face.

“Do I know you?”

“I’m Detective Nelson-our department’s been searching for you. Where the hell have you been?”

“Is there a problem, officer?”

The insolent tone draws Detective Nelson’s attention away from me to the man edging his body in front of me.

“What the fuck?” He moves his head around Tommy’s body to look at me. “Ma’am, is this man holding you captive? Did he kidnap you from the motel?”

“No,” I say quickly. “He’s my boyfriend. I left on my own.”

Squeezing Tommy’s fingers hard, I move away from the man, who jogs to keep up with us. “Wait! You can’t just-I have to call my superiors, to tell them you’re still alive! I really must insist that you stay here until they arrive.”

“We’re leaving.”

Tommy squeezes my hand back, letting me know that this is fine with him. We return to the table and my head feels as if it’s going to burst. He says something to Jack and whisks me away, heading for the front door. I’m so relieved to leave that I’m practically jogging to the exit. Tommy gets his coat from the coat check and wraps it around me instead, tugging it around my shoulders until my arms are pinned against my sides. He leads me outside and I gasp in the freezing air.

“See? It wasn’t that bad.”

He kisses my cheek and wipes the stray tears from my face, frowning at me. I gasp when I feel the cold wetness smearing across my skin, having not realized that I was crying at all. Confusion seems to be a permanent state of being for me, but it burns to the background when his mouth falls over mine hotly, his lips kissing me with a tenderness I never knew existed inside him. It makes tears fall faster down my face.

“What’s wrong?”

I don’t know!

I jerk my head to the side. “Let’s just go-you must be freezing.” My heart clenches when he takes my hand, rubbing my skin to warm me even though he’s just wearing slacks and a thin jacket. His breath mists into the air.

“It doesn’t bother me.” He walks down the street, holding my hand. “Something’s obviously bothering you. Just tell me.”

“Why do you care?” I burst, suddenly rounding on him. “Your boss and your friends hate me. Honestly, Tommy, where the fuck is this going? Why are you playing with me?”

“I’m doing what I want. I don’t give a fuck what they think.”

A surge of hope fills my chest, all the way to my neck and behind my eyes. Tears obscure my vision and freeze on my cheek. “You didn’t answer my question.”

“I don’t know where this is going.”

“I want to be with you, Tommy. I don’t just want to be-I want it to be real. I’m happy with you.”

I study his face, which is pink with cold. Hazel eyes cut into me, but then he laughs, losing that shocked look.

“You’re just saying that because you haven’t had any freedom. It’s only normal to get attached to the person you’re spending so much time with.”

“No, that’s not it. Even if you told me I could leave you, I wouldn’t want to.”

Tommy stammers, suddenly looking uncomfortable. In all the time I’ve known him, I’ve never seen him look nervous. Then the look changes in an instant, and all of a sudden he’s hostile.

“What the fuck are you asking me? What do you want, damn it?”

I approach him until my breath frosts over his chin. “You wanted me, Tommy. You have me. Now what are you going to do with me? Fuck me till your dick falls off?”

“Yeah, that sounds like a good plan.”

Enraged, I rip off his wool coat and shove it in his arms, even though I’m freezing. He barely manages to catch it, looking bewildered as I storm away on the wet streets. I’m yanked back after a few steps, his hand curling around my arm. The heavy wool coat falls on my shoulders again, but I twist around and shove Tommy.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?”

He looks completely baffled at my behavior, the heavy coat still in his arms. A twinge of guilt makes me take a step forward, and he takes the opportunity to wrap it around me, looking relieved when I let him.

“I want more, Tommy.”

He looks up at me, looking lost. “Sweetie…I just don’t know if I-”

I can’t hear the rest, not when he uses that high voice men use to tell you kindly that they’re not into you.

“Melanie, stop crying. Please stop.”

I can’t.

He’s broken me, and I can see the regret all over his face.