Arranged Mafia Marriage

Karma

The whoop-whoop-whump grows louder, infiltrates my mind. Darkness, so dark, I’m floating. The back of my head hits something hard. Red and white sparks flare behind my eyeballs. I crack my eyelids open and pain slices through my brain. I groan, and the sound echoes back at me. Sweat beads my neck, my palms. My sports bra is sticking to my back. Booty shorts? Check. My running shoes-I wriggle my feet-I still have them on. What happened? What-? The ringing in my ears whooshes up, engulfs me.

He shot me. The bastard shot me?

A trembling grips me; my arms and legs grow numb. The blood beats in my ears. My pulse rate ratchets up and my guts churn. Bile rushes up my throat and I cough. No, I will not be sick. Not now. I take in a breath, another. Focus, focus on the now, as Ma used to say. She was a hippie, who’d hitched a ride with my businessman father. Then married him and given birth to me and my sister. Bequeathed us quirky nicknames, which had ultimately made it to our passports…talk about fate, huh?

As to why she called me Karma? It was a joke, on me. Bad luck seems to dog my footsteps. How else do you explain this…this situation? Me being kidnapped by…tall, dark and dangerous?

My stomach flutters, my scalp tingles. No, no, I am insane. That brooding gaze, that mean glare? Damn it, what is it about me that I seem to attract the assholes, huh? I fumble around, shove my hand in the pocket of my shorts… No! My phone is gone. Of course, bastard had kept it, and then he had pushed the barrel of his gun into my temple. I had squeezed my eyes shut, the blood roaring in my ears, and then I’d heard the bang. Then nothing. But he hadn’t shot me. No he hadn’t. If he had, I wouldn’t be alive. And I’m pretty sure I am.

I run a mental check across my body… No, I don’t seem to be hurt anywhere. Which means, he had pretended to shoot me… Likely, shot into the air next to my head… Asshole. Clearly, he’d done it to frighten me… to get me to comply. What a bastard. My pulse begins to drum. Why? Why did he do that? What is he going to do with me?

Whoomp-whoomp-thump. The hell? I stiffen. The container I am in rocks from side to side…very gently. Not a boat… I am in a… I glance around the enclosed space. There’s room for, maybe, one more person, a very small person… My foot grazes something. I feel around with my sneaker. There’s something springy-made of rubber. A tire? A car honks, muffled, as if coming from a distance or through a layer of metal. A car. I am in a vehicle? In the trunk, probably.

I snake my fist out and into the curved barrier around me. “Ow!” Pain glances down my arm. “Let me the hell out!”

The vehicle seems to speed up. My heart begins to hammer so fast, I am sure it’s going to break out of my ribcage. This is not good… I really shouldn’t put so much stress on my heart… I was born with a hole in my heart, which hadn’t been discovered until a few years ago. It isn’t life-threatening, yet. But it could be, if left untreated. The doctors had warned that I would need a procedure soon, but for the time-being, they had put me on medication to see if it would help.

Meanwhile, I’d been told not to exert myself… Instructions which I hadn’t adhered to, of course. It’s why my sister Summer is overly-protective of me. It’s why I had gone running in the park, and why I have refused to take the medicines; because I hate feeling less than anyone else. I had wanted to prove to myself that I was fine.

Damn it, if I hadn’t gone running, he wouldn’t have come across me and kidnapped me. OMG, he’s kidnapping me. Adrenaline laces my blood. My heart beat instantly spikes. That’s not good, not good at all. Calm down, take another breath, and another. I manage to calm myself down somewhat.

Where is he taking me? Why did he kidnap me? I have to get the hell out of here. Have to. I join my fists, draw in a breath, then yank them up. Connect with the overhead covering. The loud thunk fills the space. I cry out. Pain slices down my arms and my shoulders hurt. There’s a screeching sound, audible even through the layer of metal. I am thrown forward, then back. All movement stops. Hell. I’ve done it now. I’ve gotten their attention. Jesus H. Christ, are you somewhere around? I’d never prayed when the nuns had held mass, but damn it, if you are there… Please, please… I bring my knuckles to my mouth, suck on the throbbing flesh. Help me, God.

The cover flies up and light pours over me. I squeeze my eyes shut, then crack them open, just a tad. Wide shoulders, a massive chest that blocks out the daylight. His features are in repose, the sun to his back. I can’t see his face, but I know who it is. Him.

“Move over.” His hard baritone whips through the space.

“What?”

He swoops out his hand, grabs my shoulder and pushes me back. Then swings a leg over and inside the boot.

The hell?

He sinks down. No, no, no. He can’t be doing this.

“I am.”

He lowers his big body and I scoot back, all the way back in that enclosed space, until my back is flat against the barrier of the car… He sinks down into the space I vacated. If he gets in here with me, we’ll be face to face, chest to breasts, thigh to thigh, crotch to- I turn my back on him, as he lowers the last of his bulk into the already cramped space.

“Good thinking.” His voice rumbles down my back.This is the property of Nô-velDrama.Org.

“At least one of us is,” I growl, “because, clearly, you’re not in your right senses… You-”

The cover of the boot slams down and a tiny light bulb flicks on just above us.

“What the-?” I blink, stare up at the illumination. It’s not much, but at least, I can see my nose in front of my face.

“Say thank you, Beauty.”

“Go fly a kite.”

“You can do better than that.”

The vehicle roars forward, slamming me back and into the wall of his body. Every hard, corded, coiled inch of him surrounds me. I gulp. Dense waves of heat sear my back, sink into my blood, snake into the hollow between my thighs. Oh, hell!

Goosebumps flare on my skin; moisture laces my palms, my brow. My throat is so dry that I swear my tongue is stuck to the roof of my mouth. Not good. This is not good.

“Where are you taking me?”

“You’re hardly in a position to ask questions.”

The hard planes of his chest graze my shoulders. I gulp. Freeze. Every muscle in my body goes rigid. His powerful thighs fit in the V of where I have folded up my legs. He slides his arm under my neck, wraps the other around my waist, and pulls me close.

Something thick and long stabs at the curve of my backside, OMG! Is that…is it…? I squeeze my thighs together, try to scoot away. His grip tightens.

“Stop that,” he growls.

As if I am going to jump to his every command. I huff, wriggle forward, but end up brushing my butt against his turgid length.

“See what happens when you don’t obey?”

I freeze.

“You can’t…do this.”

“I already am.”

“My sister will be worried when she can’t reach me.”

“You already called her.”

“I…what?” I turn my head, glower at him.

“You told her you were going on a long holiday with a friend.”

Oh, right. “She’ll never believe that,” I huff.

Besides, Summer’s so overprotective. She wouldn’t just let me take off like that without suspecting something, right?

“She has a new husband, a future… She’s not going to miss you for a while.”

“How did you…?” I shut my mouth. “You…you stalked me?”

“You aren’t that important.”

Anger coats my tongue. How dare he insult me? “I mean something, because you didn’t kill me…”

“Yet.” I hear the amusement in his voice.

Bet all this is just one long walk in the park for him. Which is where he found me. How long had he been following me? Did he know my routine? Is that how he marked out the best time to abduct me? My heart begins to thud. This is not good. This is really happening.

“Why me?” I say in a low tone. “Why did you kidnap me?”

“The eternal question.” He yawns. The bastard yawns, as if he’s bored with this conversation.

“Tell me,” I insist, “what do you want in exchange?”

“What makes you think I am interested in getting anything in exchange?”

“What do you mean?” I glance sideways and up at what I can see of that gorgeous face. Those high cheekbones, the hooked nose, that pouty lower lip of his that was made for sinking my teeth into, swiping my tongue across the seam, as I nibble on that delectable mouth… Gah! My face heats and a pulse flares to life between my legs. “What do you mean, you are not interested in an exchange? You must want something in return.”

“I have everything.”

“Then why take me?”

“That’s what I am trying to figure out.”

What the-? I frown, “That makes no sense. You must have had a plan when you decided to steal me away from my everyday life. I mean, people don’t just see someone else and decide, on the spur of the moment, ‘oh, I want that person, so I am going to kidnap him or her,’ you know?”

“No,” he shakes his head, “I don’t, actually.”

I blink, open my mouth and shut it again. “I see.” I bob my head. “I understand what you are trying to do here.”

He arches an eyebrow, “Pray, do tell.”

“You’re trying to confuse me with your cryptic words, and you’re trying to keep me off balance with your stupid domineering ways.”

“You meant controlling ways.”

I snarl, “What’s the bloody difference anyway?”

“To control means to command, to have mastery over, to-”

“Forget I asked,” I mutter.

“You, on the other hand, clearly love to be subjugated.”

“No I don’t,” I snap.

“Sure, you do.”

“Not.”

“Want me to prove it to you?” He lowers his voice to a hush, and instantly my toes curl. A shiver ripples down my spine. Every cell in my body opens, all my nerve endings go on alert…and my synapses… they seem to fire all at once. Oh, hell, what is this man doing to me?

I strain away, try to put distance between us once. He hauls me even closer, throws his leg over both of mine, so I can’t move.

I try to draw in a breath and my lungs burn. I am having a nervous breakdown. In the boot of a car, with my kidnapper.

No, no no, this can’t be happening. I can’t breathe. My heart beats so fast, I am sure it’s going to jump out of my ribcage.

“Shh!” His warm breath grazes my cheek. “Relax, I promise I won’t harm you.”

Says the man who almost shot me. A chuckle bubbles up and my entire body shakes.

“What’s so funny?” he rumbles.

“You…” I choke out, “you, asshole. Have you heard yourself? You sound like a psycho bastard-”

Cold metal pushes against the curve of my neck. My breath hitches. My pulse rate ratchets up, even as my limbs tremble.

“Shh.” His warm breath raises the hair at my temples. My skin prickles and my scalp feels too tight. I open my mouth, but no words come out. Is that a knife? It’s a knife. A bloody knife. OMG. How many freakin’ weapons does this man carry on him, anyway?

He drags the tip of the blade down the side of my throat. The tip pricks my skin. Not enough to hurt, just enough for me to go still. My breath hitches and a trembling grips me. Even as my core clenches. What the hell is wrong with me? Do I find the idea of him holding a weapon against my skin such a turn on? Am I such a sucker for punishment? One who hankers for something darker, deeper, more violent that the usual overtures than a normal woman would enjoy.

“Now, Beauty, don’t freak out on me, not after that very promising start.”

He removes the knife. I sense him move away as he tucks the knife back from wherever he’d pulled it out, then he grips my chin. He forces my head toward him and my gaze meets his.

Those blue eyes are piercing, a beacon in the darkness. My light at the end of the tunnel. What? No. Anger squeezes my guts and fear bubbles up, a tangy, bitter taste on my tongue.

I open my mouth to scream, but he’s already there. He lowers his chin, slants his lips over mine.