The Carrero Contract - Selling Your Soul (Mafia Romance)

Chapter 87

It sounds like a reasonable offer. Sweetening the deal, removing himself from the scenario, sounding like he means it, but he can’t take out the one thing which leaves it sour no matter how many bonus points he adds on—that it will still be a connection to him. And as long as he is involved, there will always be that black cloud of doubt that he will leave me alone.

I get up slowly and clumsily, and move away from the corner I have put myself in giving him a wide berth, and head for the couch to sit down. Trying to look more confident than I feel, and praying Mico comes back soon. The carpenter has shut us in and seems to be silent now, oblivious to what’s going on or in fact deliberately got out of here and is staying away.

‘This is no life for you, Cam.’ Alexi is trying to appeal to me in other ways and I just roll my eyes even though I am facing away.

‘Well, it’s pretty much how I started out, so I can’t say it bothers me that much … home away from home.’ I answer sarcastically, swallowing down the last of my vulnerable sniffles. I’m no stranger to poverty or hard times. I know I can get through worse than this if I have to. I have lived through harder times and I will again, once I get a little time to pick myself up.

‘You deserve so much more.’ He follows me with a heavy tone and I eye roll harder and almost strain an eyeball this time.

‘Don’t even … You make me laugh you do.’ I can’t help the sardonic smile pasted on my face as I spin at him, my common dialect breaking through my practiced posh, at the irony of his words. He must think I was born yesterday to believe any of this horse shit and at least he has done what he does best; pissed me off and replaced woe with fire. Nothing ignites my fight more than Alexi being a dickhead.

‘Did I deserve more when you sent me packing? Or is it only when I have a use that you deem me worthy of an actual existence?’ I spit it at him, seething with hatred and venom and yet still, he just looks deadpan.

Nothing is sparking him beyond minor irritation and I don’t get it. He was very much the alive and kicking hell hath no fury when I launched a shoe at his head, why the hell is he being so controlled now? What did Mico say to him before he left to have this much of an effect on his behaviour?

‘I don’t want to fight with you, Cam. I am trying to give you a lifeline to a better place.’ Again, another sombre and steady tone with no real conviction. He’s trying his hardest to appear like he’s a stable human being and not the crazy psycho I know that dwells inside.

‘See, this is my problem right here. You think what you’re offering is a better place and a brighter future, but I have been there and done that, Dahling. You may be offering better surroundings, money and a job I excel at, but it comes with a price on my soul, and it’s one I am not willing to pay a second time round. We both know you will have me five minutes and the urge to exert control and punishment will be your undoing. Stop trying, I’m not biting. I don’t want it. Go back to your club Alexi and find some other mug to deal with you. I bet Joyce will jump at the chance.’ I lift the cushion to my lap to still my shaking hands and sigh when he moves closer, not getting the hint that his proximity is not welcome. I tense up, every inch of me battling between shivers and goosebumps and butterflies going crazy, but he ignores it and sits down next to me. A two-foot gap between us, and he turns my way to lean a hand on the back of the over worn leather seat which puts his hand very close to my shoulder. I can feel his eyes penetrating my face and try to blank him by staring straight ahead at the door, as it visibly vibrates again with whatever the carpenter is doing. At least it’s a sign he is still here and I am not completely alone with this demon.

‘Twenty percent! I will triple your wage and stay away from the club as much as you need me to. I won’t interfere in any way. I give you my word.’

He just doesn’t give up.

‘Jesus, she must really have done a number on that place. Are you that desperate?’ It’s almost a disbelieving laugh.

‘I’m not leaving you here.’ Alexi’s voice has that hint of softness that reminds me of that night; when I thought he could maybe love me too. It’s a sharp biting reminder of how deluded I was to ever fall for hints of caring. It throws me for six, heart reacting, yet I refuse to let him see it. Shutting it down quickly and I harden myself to him.

‘That’s not your choice. It’s mine.’ My voice is barely above a whisper. All my fight is dying with my energy. I need to lie down soon or I may pass out. All of this is just too much on my weak body at one time and like always, he is draining all the life from me.

Alexi is frustrated, runs a hand through his hair and scratches his jawline in an out of character mannerism, before coming back to look me over; his brain clearly all over the place with my constant refusals. He’s not a guy who ever gets a ‘No’ and I’m pretty impressed with how much he is holding onto his cool. I know inside he must be raging and desperate to administer some sort of heinous punishment for defying him. He’s probably fantasising about picking me up and locking me in the boot of his car against my wishes before shackling me to his bar.

‘Who hurt you? The asshole who broke in? A boyfriend? Client?’ His words sound strained, but his assumption makes me rage.

‘Client? Really? You think I have such low self-esteem that first sign of trouble I go back to being a tom on the street? How many fucking times Alexi …? I wasn’t a whore by choice and I don’t sell sex to any man for anything, anymore. I survived with what I knew and as soon as found another way to do so, I left it behind. Just get out … just fucking go, you’re making me crazy and I need to lie down.’ Fury erupts and I push my cushion at his chest as I push him back and storm to stand. He doesn’t move, just keeps penetrating my skull and giving nothing away; Waits for me to spin on him before he slowly gets up to meet my height and then some. He stands over me in that huge frame and intimidating posture he has.

‘I’m not leaving you.’ He is as stubborn as I am, and we glare at one another, so close we are sharing air.

‘How ironic … Where was that sentence when I needed it, huh? Where was your chivalry then? We don’t do well in one another’s company Alexi, and I think you should just go. This is pointless. You won’t get the answer you want, and I don’t want you here.’ I give in, completely fed up now and no longer trying to goad a fight. I just want this over so I can rest, and it’s obvious in my tone and breathless deliverance.

Alexi turns agitatedly and paces the room, again with the hair messing. A mannerism I have only seen him do when he was tired and stressed over business. I have never seen him behave this way when his face hasn’t been pushed in a file or glued to his laptop.

There is no way in hell my refusals mean that much in the grand scheme of Carrero businesses. His club isn’t one of his priorities in life, or his biggest earners. In fact, he always told me it was beneficial for contacts but not overly profitable compared to some things he owns.

I don’t get why it’s getting to him this much. He could just go hire someone to do a better job than that donkey faced tramp he hides in his basement.

‘YOU are NOT staying here! You’re coming to the club and staying in the apartment tonight and you’re going to quit that dead-end job that makes you wear that piece of shit dress. Meghan isn’t your name, I don’t want to hear it again and you WILL come home, Camilla! It’s where you belong.’ Alexi explodes slightly; I guess frustration finally builds to that level. It’s that bossy, arrogant ‘I OWN YOU’ tone that I knew he hadn’t lost—hiding in the pretend docile act. He’s losing his temper with me and here it comes. Next will be the side of him that really knows how to party in hell. Sadistic Satan with his crooked crown!

I’m glad. This is the side I want to see! The reminder of why I should stay a million miles away from him for as long as I live. No matter how good an offer he’s throwing my way; In case I ever forgot what a controlling piece if shit he is.

I jump to my feet too, anger spiking as quickly as his just has, bravado strong when in full volcanic rage about to erupt.

‘Don’t you dare tell me what to do, you arsehole. Don’t think you can waltz in here making demands and throwing your weight around just because I’m down on my luck. It’s my fucking life! I will survive this like I do everything fucking else. I survived you, didn’t I? I survived a bloody crack in my skull at your hands, and I have survived men who almost killed me countless times. Why don’t you just piss off?’ I turn haughtily to walk towards my bedroom, so done with this conversation and him, and determined to end it. Signalling that this is well and truly over and he should let himself out.

How would he know where I belong? He spent weeks telling me it wasn’t with him, so why would I listen to him now?

Alexi grabs my wrist unexpectedly and yanks me back harshly, causing me to gasp with the surprise and fly back to face him defensively. I flip my shit in shocked reaction; Sanity jumping out a window when it comes to this man ever trying to restrain me again.

That inner demon, the girl he bruised and broke. The one he shackled and emotionally abused. The one, who has been licking her bitter wounds for the past four months, throws out her head and attacks with a fury that makes his rage pale in comparison.

I slap at his shoulder and arm, shoving him and wrenching my wrist free, hurling abusive curses at him and screaming with all my earthly might as he just tries to defend himself uselessly.

‘DON’T EVER FUCKING TOUCH ME AGAIN!’

Alexi seems shocked at my overreaction and just lets me go, eyes wide in question, yet he holds his hands defensively up which signals he isn’t going to try anymore. Instantly backing down from his aggressive handling and a wary expression crosses that normally arrogant face. The guy, who always punished me for daring to lay a finger on him, releases me without even a tiny spark of annoyance at what I just did. He just seems out of his depth so suddenly.

‘You lost the right to touch me; you won’t ever get it back. Keep your hands to yourself!’ I cry it at him; tears pouring down my face as everything inside of me slides out rapidly and I no longer care. He can go die for all I care; I’m done with him and this conversation. I am done hiding how much he screwed me up. Content © provided by NôvelDrama.Org.

I don’t stop to wait on his response, just drag my arse to my bedroom at speed, clumsily, and shut the door hard with a bang that rocks every wall hanging in my room. I push a chair up under the handle so he can’t follow, and throw myself against the door too. I slide down and huddle beside it as an extra barrier to keep him out—crying because I am frustrated, angry, broken inside and so very sick.

I just want him to leave me alone and stop messing with my head just by being here. He has no concept of how messy in my brain it has been since I last saw him and I wasn’t prepared for any of this. Alexi just makes me feel completely crazy.

The knock on the door stops me and I curl up into a tight little childish ball, willing him away, deflated with his persistence.

‘Go away!’ I yell through muffled tears, but he knocks again.

‘I’m not letting you in so just go away,’ I blurt out, my voice muffled as I silently sob.

‘Cam? … Did they …?’ He trails off and I turn to look at the shut door, confused by that weird broken sentence and it hushes my tears for a moment as I try to mentally finish his it. He sounds weird,

hesitant, his voice low and patchy. He doesn’t sound like him at all and it draws out a question from me surprisingly.

‘Did they what?’

I don’t know how or what he’s talking about, or what he is even on.

‘Did they touch you beyond violence?’ His voice cracks as he asks it, a gut kick at the sound because it’s so alien from him, and it dawns on me what he is asking. He thinks my reaction to his touch is because my intruder raped me, and for a moment I want to both laugh at how insane this moment is and yet cry that it takes everything that’s gone before to actually see a genuine moment from him. He thinks they raped me, and he sounds horrified by that fact. Alexi sounds like it actually matters, even if he is a few years too late. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised, seeing as I know how he feels about men hurting women in that way, even if it’s completely ironic because he just fucks our heads up instead of our bodies.

I let him stew for a moment, staying quiet and shaking my head at him through that wooden wall between us, finding composure in this irony. I hope he feels bad, even if it’s just fleeting and lay my head back down on my knees to calm myself further.

‘Cam?’ It sounds strained, pleading almost. Begging to know how far they went in hurting me, and as much as I want to make him suffer, I don’t want it to be like this. I’m not him with his mind games and emotional weapons. I don’t ever want to be like that again. I’m not that girl anymore.

‘No. They just knocked me out and left me on the floor while they ransacked this place. I woke up dressed. They didn’t rape me Alexi.’ I lift my head and listen to his silence, looking at the squalor of my surroundings and long for the warmth and cleanliness of the apartment over the club. He knew which carrots to dangle alright; it’s the first home I ever really bonded to. I cannot get the aching longing of homesickness out of my head as I sit and look at my dim reality.

I dealt with all this in my first weeks here and thought I had it under control, but I guess with him being here, making me feel this way, it’s all coming back to hit me again like a freight train.

I think I hear him exhale but it’s muffled through the door, and then he speaks again.

‘I want to have you checked over; to be sure you’re okay. Concussions can be serious.’

Don’t I know it!

Three days in hospital with a migraine from hell after he banged my head into the apartment wall. I had headaches for weeks that lingered for days and were so severe I would see spots even a week after. I ended up back in emergency when I started throwing up after a particularly bad headache ten days on, and was told that I had to take it easy, let my head heal. I had a fracture in my skull that needed time. Something that private clinic he paid for never mentioned when they released me. They were more interested in reporting my well-being to the bill payer than telling me anything.