Read Online Monster: Made & Broken (A Mafia Bad Boy Romance) by Nora Ash - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Nora Ash
Tags: Bad Boy Mafia Romance
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drive?”
“ No, I… I needed it. And I’d already stolen the pen drive, so…” My attempt at an explanation died under his stare.
He rolled his shoulders as if to work out his anger and began to pace in front of me. I was somewhat relieved that I no longer had his burning eyes glued to my face and slumped back in the chair. I was more exhausted than I’d ever been in my life.
“ How long have you been in Brigs’ employ?”
“ A year and a half.” Had it really been that long? A year and a half of fear and self-hatred.
“ A faithful employee,” he gritted out, and I shrank back under another of his glares. “And certainly very valuable, if you could fool me like you did. Why did they harm you?”
“ I broke the pen drive,” I whispered, no longer able to meet his gaze. I lowered it to my feet. One of my shoes had come off while I struggled against him as he carried me to his car, but at least my ankles weren’t tied up this time.
“ You broke it?”
“ I… after we… I wanted to know why Brigs wanted it so bad. If he was going to hurt you somehow. So I… I watched it, and I… couldn’t make myself do it. I couldn’t give it to him after I saw… So I broke it.”
“ You saw the video?”
“ Yes.” Too late I realized that admitting to being the only person to see what was on the pen drive was the stupidest thing I could have done. Looking back up, I backtracked, “But I didn’t tell Gerald what was on it, that’s why Leo tortured me. Please, Marcus, don’t hurt me. Y-you don’t have anything to fear from me, I promise. I’ll leave London, Brigs won’t find me. I won’t tell a soul.”
If he was affected by my frantic begging, his expression didn’t betray it. He simply stared at me in silence for a few long moments, his face still twisted in anger. Then, without a word, he turned around and left the room.
What now? I sank back into the chair, spent and terrified.
Marcus came back through the door about ten minutes later, but the sight of the tub of steaming water in his hands and the towel over his shoulder didn’t exactly provide me with any more clues as to his plans for me. When he pulled a knife and cut my wrists free before he knelt down in front of me, placing the tub by his side, my confusion was complete.
“ W-what are you doing?”
He didn’t answer me, and I flinched when he grabbed my shoe-free ankle in one hand. But he was strong and held on, and I didn’t dare fight him.
Once I stopped moving, he carefully peeled off my sock and tossed it next to me, and I saw patches of blood on it. I peered down at my now bare foot and grimaced. It was filthy, and judging by the throbbing pain in my soles, I could hazard a guess how badly cut it was.
Marcus continued to my other foot, pulling both the shoe and equally blood-stained sock off it.
At the sight of their condition he made a dismayed sound deep in his throat and then proceeded to pull the tub in front of me so he could dip both my feet in the water.
“ Ow,” I whimpered when the heat closed around my wounds. I tried to pull my feet back, but Marcus held on. He looked like he wasn’t even remotely straining to keep me still.
“ What are you doing? It hurts!”
“ It’s saltwater,” he said, not bothering to look up from the tub. “You’ll get an infection.”
I blinked, stunned when it finally dawned on me what he was doing. He was… cleaning my wounds? Slowly, I stopped struggling as the initial pain faded and just watched the large man who had hunkered down in front of me to care for my cut feet.
Did this mean he wasn’t going to hurt me? I couldn’t imagine anyone in the mafia world caring for the wounds of someone they were going to murder anyway, and the first tendrils of relief flooded me.
Once he seemed satisfied that I wasn’t going to try and escape the foot bath, Marcus let go of my right foot and grabbed the left one, easily lifting it up to balance on his knee so he could inspect
“ No, I… I needed it. And I’d already stolen the pen drive, so…” My attempt at an explanation died under his stare.
He rolled his shoulders as if to work out his anger and began to pace in front of me. I was somewhat relieved that I no longer had his burning eyes glued to my face and slumped back in the chair. I was more exhausted than I’d ever been in my life.
“ How long have you been in Brigs’ employ?”
“ A year and a half.” Had it really been that long? A year and a half of fear and self-hatred.
“ A faithful employee,” he gritted out, and I shrank back under another of his glares. “And certainly very valuable, if you could fool me like you did. Why did they harm you?”
“ I broke the pen drive,” I whispered, no longer able to meet his gaze. I lowered it to my feet. One of my shoes had come off while I struggled against him as he carried me to his car, but at least my ankles weren’t tied up this time.
“ You broke it?”
“ I… after we… I wanted to know why Brigs wanted it so bad. If he was going to hurt you somehow. So I… I watched it, and I… couldn’t make myself do it. I couldn’t give it to him after I saw… So I broke it.”
“ You saw the video?”
“ Yes.” Too late I realized that admitting to being the only person to see what was on the pen drive was the stupidest thing I could have done. Looking back up, I backtracked, “But I didn’t tell Gerald what was on it, that’s why Leo tortured me. Please, Marcus, don’t hurt me. Y-you don’t have anything to fear from me, I promise. I’ll leave London, Brigs won’t find me. I won’t tell a soul.”
If he was affected by my frantic begging, his expression didn’t betray it. He simply stared at me in silence for a few long moments, his face still twisted in anger. Then, without a word, he turned around and left the room.
What now? I sank back into the chair, spent and terrified.
Marcus came back through the door about ten minutes later, but the sight of the tub of steaming water in his hands and the towel over his shoulder didn’t exactly provide me with any more clues as to his plans for me. When he pulled a knife and cut my wrists free before he knelt down in front of me, placing the tub by his side, my confusion was complete.
“ W-what are you doing?”
He didn’t answer me, and I flinched when he grabbed my shoe-free ankle in one hand. But he was strong and held on, and I didn’t dare fight him.
Once I stopped moving, he carefully peeled off my sock and tossed it next to me, and I saw patches of blood on it. I peered down at my now bare foot and grimaced. It was filthy, and judging by the throbbing pain in my soles, I could hazard a guess how badly cut it was.
Marcus continued to my other foot, pulling both the shoe and equally blood-stained sock off it.
At the sight of their condition he made a dismayed sound deep in his throat and then proceeded to pull the tub in front of me so he could dip both my feet in the water.
“ Ow,” I whimpered when the heat closed around my wounds. I tried to pull my feet back, but Marcus held on. He looked like he wasn’t even remotely straining to keep me still.
“ What are you doing? It hurts!”
“ It’s saltwater,” he said, not bothering to look up from the tub. “You’ll get an infection.”
I blinked, stunned when it finally dawned on me what he was doing. He was… cleaning my wounds? Slowly, I stopped struggling as the initial pain faded and just watched the large man who had hunkered down in front of me to care for my cut feet.
Did this mean he wasn’t going to hurt me? I couldn’t imagine anyone in the mafia world caring for the wounds of someone they were going to murder anyway, and the first tendrils of relief flooded me.
Once he seemed satisfied that I wasn’t going to try and escape the foot bath, Marcus let go of my right foot and grabbed the left one, easily lifting it up to balance on his knee so he could inspect
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