The Sacrificial Lamb (9 page)

Domenic mentally berated himself for being idiotic and turned to close the door behind him. After the door was shut, he grabbed the chair and straddled it like the other day. He didn’t want to come across as threatening and felt this position made her feel most comfortable. There were slight differences in her demeanor toward him today—her fists were no longer balled up at her sides, and she didn’t hold her body as tensely, ready to defend herself.

“The clothes fit,” he said, looking her over. They were nothing fancy, just a pair of navy sweat pants and a matching zip hoodie.

“Can’t go wrong with size medium,” she answered, picking at her nails.

Domenic pursed his lips together to keep from smiling.

“You’re welcome.”

Alex looked up at him flabbergasted, anger flashing in her eyes. “You expect me to thank you?” she said incredulously.

“I could have left you to freeze in the flimsy skirt you were wearing.”
With nothing underneath it
. The image filled his mind, and he felt his pants tighten.
Damn it
.

“You
could
have left me alone, instead of you and your cronies kidnapping me in the first place!” she snapped.

“You know, you’re pretty mouthy, all things considered,” he said pointedly while she glared at him. A minute passed, their gazes locked, neither willing to look away.

“Why were you in a skirt, anyway?” he asked abruptly. She frowned at him, the tense moment broken.

“Um, I was…wait, why wouldn’t I be wearing a skirt?”

“You don’t seem the type to wear skirts.”

“How would you know that?” The frown line between her eyes deepened. Domenic had an odd impulse to smooth it away with his finger. If he were sitting closer to her, he might have acted on it.

“I can just tell,” he replied smoothly. Domenic had been around enough women to know when they were accustomed to wearing overtly feminine clothing. Alex didn’t seem to fit that mold. He didn’t want to tell her that, fearing for some reason how she might interpret it. It occurred to him how utterly ridiculous that was.

Alex looked down at her hands again, the pucker between her brows still present. “I was dressed up to look nice for my boyfriend. He was at the airport waiting for me when—” her voice faltered “—when I got taken.”

Domenic felt a slight flare of jealousy when she mentioned her boyfriend, which was completely illogical. Much like his earlier thought, he wondered why the girl affected him so strongly when he knew nothing about her. He tried to imagine her with someone else, and he felt his gut twist at the image. Then he tried to imagine her with him, and that came very easily, a little
too
easily. He had a flashback of his dream and again felt the familiar twinge in his pants. Straddling this chair might not be the best position to be sitting in.

Coughing, he shifted, leaning back and hanging clasped hands between his spread legs. The girl didn’t seem to notice anything amiss. She was still looking down, struggling to keep her emotions in check. Domenic was curious about her boyfriend but wasn’t sure if he should risk upsetting her further. In the end, his curiosity won out.

“Your boyfriend was coming to visit you?”

“Yes. He was coming for my graduation.”

Even though it wasn’t Domenic’s fault, he felt badly that she had missed such an important event in her life. She should have been in a gown and cap, walking up to get her diploma while her family cheered for her. She missed that because her father had been in the wrong place at the wrong time, and because Carlo was a devious bastard.

“I’m sorry you missed it,” he said quietly, before he could stop himself. Alexis glanced up in shock and regarded him for a moment.

“Why would you care?” she asked coldly. “It’s your fault I’m here! Or at least partly.”

“This wasn’t my decision, Alexis.”

“Still, you keep me here, locked up. You’re just as guilty as the rest!”

Domenic knew there would be no way to explain to her the reasons why he was going along with this. Not without putting them both in mortal danger. The threat they were under was great enough as it was.

“What are you going to do with me?” she asked when he stayed silent.

“That’s not my decision,” he stated as impassively as possible. Domenic watched as her bottom lip began to tremble, her eyes took on the telltale sheen of tears, and she couldn’t stop them from spilling over onto her smudged cheeks. She put her face in her hands, unwilling to let him watch her cry.

“Oh God, oh God, oh God…” Alex whispered in a shaky voice as she rocked back and forth.

Domenic jumped off the chair and ran over to her quickly. When he sat on the cot, she removed her hands from her face and scrambled away from him toward the corner. She had her arms folded in front of her chest, her fisted hands under her chin, and she looked frail and wounded. He reached out a tentative hand to her shoulder. When Alex turned her face away from him, her hair swung down, as if creating a shield between them.

Alex was still making panicked noises, so he finally did touch her to try to offer some sort of comfort. Her body was trembling from trying to keep the sobs from ripping out of her chest. Domenic stroked her shoulder softly, making hushing noises. Eventually, he reached out and swept her light brown hair away from her face and back over her shoulder, his fingers grazing her neck. He inched closer, and she didn’t pull away when he put his arm around her shoulder.

She collapsed against his chest and covered her face as she continued to cry.

“I’m sorry, Alex. Shh, shh…”

“Please,” she choked out. “Please, let me go home.”

“I wish I could, but I don’t have that power.”

Yet
.

Domenic sat back against the wall and held Alex while she cried herself out. For the first time in years, he loathed himself. He hated that he was powerless to remove her from this situation at this moment. There was no doubt that he would get her out safely, but he couldn’t let her know that yet. For now, she would have to suffer through these next few painful weeks until his plan came to fruition.

Alex’s sobbing eventually subsided, but she stayed in his arms. Domenic absentmindedly ran his fingers through the hair at her temple with the arm that was wrapped around her. His other hand rested on her arm. Despite their surroundings, he felt almost at peace. Everything about this situation was wrong, utterly and completely, but holding this girl still felt right somehow.

Looking down, he realized she had fallen asleep. Her dark lashes fanned against the roundness of her cheek, and the slope of her nose partially obscured a set of full lips. She was pouting, which made her look even more young and childlike. Her inner arm was trapped between them, her hand curled loosely against her neck. The other one was grasping the lapel of his jacket tightly.

Domenic wanted to continue holding her, but he knew the buffoons would be returning soon, and he didn’t want to be found in a compromising position. Regretfully, he loosened her hold on his jacket. Her hand slackened easily enough, and he slid away from her, cradling her upper body until she was lying on the cot. She frowned in her sleep and made a discontented noise, but eventually it turned into a sigh as she slipped into a deeper sleep.

After brushing her hair back from her face once more, Domenic stood up and watched her sleep for a few minutes. He wished he could pick her up and carry her away with him, but that was impossible. He hadn’t wanted to be anyone’s hero, until now. Even the mere thought of it should have scared him silly, but it didn’t. Domenic wanted to save her, and he would do just that, no matter what it took.

There was some scuffling outside, and he realized that Marco and Vince had returned. Domenic walked to the door and went out to the main room. Both of them stood there, staring at him strangely. Looking down, he noticed his clothes were rumpled and tear stained. Patches of dampness were clearly visible against the crisp, white fabric.
Fuck
.

“What the fuck are you staring at?” he asked, voice dripping acid.

“Nothing,” they mumbled before looking away awkwardly.

“That’s what I thought,” he grumbled. “I’m keeping an eye on you two fuck-ups.”

Domenic walked toward the men and stepped between them, knocking them both aside with the breadth of his shoulders. He kept walking until he was out in the parking area behind the warehouse. Stopping briefly, he ran his hands through his hair in agitation before turning in a half circle, back toward the direction he came. Somehow he had to get himself under control, before the delicate house of cards he had constructed came tumbling down around him.

Taking a few deep breaths, Domenic headed to his car. He made a decision to go see Carlo tomorrow. As he drove back to his condo, images of heroism crowded his mind.

Alex woke up groggy and disoriented. She was suffused with red-hot shame because she had been dreaming of
him.
Mr. Armani had been holding her as she slept, and for one short moment, she thought she’d finally woken up from her nightmare. It didn’t take long to realize that wasn’t the case. She was still a prisoner, held captive in the horrible, run-down warehouse. Collapsing back onto the cot, she fought back more tears.

Humiliation replaced shame when she remembered crying in front of him. She had been doing a good job of keeping the tears at bay, focusing on her anger, but it had been too much for her in the end. Thinking of Shane and getting no answer as to what they planned to do with her had pushed Alex over the edge.

Feeling vulnerable had made her give in to a moment of weakness. She hadn’t expected him to try to comfort her, but there he was. Instinctively, she had pulled away when he touched her shoulder, but he wasn’t deterred. His touch was very light, almost tender, and it confused her. It was completely at odds with the man she had heard yelling outside this room earlier. That man still scared her, but this man was different.

Alex had felt a tentative arm encircle her and tug gently until her face was pressed against him. After a while, the calm tenor of his voice and the feel of his fingers smoothing back her hair relaxed her to the point of slumber. She hadn’t slept well in almost a week, and while she tried to fight against her eyes closing, it had been impossible to stay awake.

The feel of his arms around her followed her into her dreams. The room bled away, and instead they were lying in a sunny little enclave on a beach. It was shaded and private. A bright blue blanket lay beneath them, sun-kissed and soft. All around the air smelled of the sea. She felt like she had been in this place before—as if it were secret and special for just the two of them. In this dream it felt very natural to be with this man, even though she didn’t know his name.

Rolling onto her back, Alex contemplated the dream. The whole thing was very disconcerting, all things considered. This man was her captor, and he had nearly traumatized her the very first time they laid eyes on one another. He ran with bad company, and he was somehow involved in this plot to kidnap her and keep her captive to make her father do their bidding. Someone who was kind and caring wouldn’t do those things.

Using the same thought process, someone thoroughly bad also wouldn’t have cared about her discomfort, wouldn’t have apologized for not having the power to help her, and wouldn’t have held her as she cried. Someone thoroughly bad would have assaulted her without giving it a second thought.

Alex mulled over the few times they had come into contact with one another, and each time he had spared her from some indignity or helped her in some way. He hadn’t raped her when he had the chance. Then he noticed she had been cold and brought her something warm to wear. And now, when she needed a shoulder to cry on, he had given her his. But why? None of it made much sense.

She wasn’t sure how long he’d held her after she fell asleep, and that made her nervous. Technically, she was still his prisoner, and he could do whatever he wanted to her. What would happen if he took an innocent gesture and made more of it? What if he thought she was giving him an invitation to make advances toward her? He did say he wasn’t interested in taking her by force, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t interpret things wrong and make an assumption that she wanted him in some sort of intimate way. Alex would have to be more careful in the future.