Thin Lies (Donati Bloodlines #1) (20 page)

She
wanted his hand lower.

In
hers.

Fingers
tightened around hers, woven with hers.

Emma
shook that stupid thought away, because that’s exactly what it was. Fucking
stupid.

“I’ll
help you up into the SUV, but you need to sit still, don’t touch anything, and
keep the damn hood on. Please don’t argue, Emma. Just listen.”

“Fine,”
she muttered.

Emma
followed Calisto’s directions, stepped where he told her to, and then stayed
still as she was lifted up and set back down. The plush softness of the leather
seat beneath her said they were in a fancier vehicle.

“Sorry
about the Mercedes,” Emma mumbled.

Calisto
laughed, but even the sound was tired. “Where is it?”

Emma
rattled off the name of the convenience store parking lot where she had left
the Mercedes. “I also left the keys on the driver’s side wheel, under the side
where it wouldn’t be seen.”

“That
makes things easier.”

“Does
it?”

“
Sì
.”

“My
things are at a hotel. I had it booked for one more night.”

“We
can pick them up,” Calisto said.

A
door slammed right after he finished. Emma sighed and fidgeted on the spot
until another door was opened, and the vehicle shifted enough to say that
Calisto had jumped in the driver’s seat.

“Can
I take the hood off now?”

“No,”
he said, offering no other explanation.

Emma
bristled. “But—”

“I
have to make a call. Be quiet.” 

As
the SUV started to move, Emma tried to stay still in the seat while she
listened to Calisto make his call.

“Donati
calling,” Calisto said. Silence followed before he said, “Do you have a spare
set for the Porsche? Great. You can pick it up.”

He
talked about the Porsche, gave an address, and told whoever was on the other
end of the call to pick it up as soon as possible and try not to be noticed too
much. Once he ended the call, Calisto didn’t say a word.

Emma
fiddled with the seam of the hood around her neck. It felt a little too tight
for her liking, and she tugged on it a bit to loosen it.

“Stop
fucking with that,” Calisto barked.

“It’s
tight.”

“It’s
supposed to be.”

Emma
blew out a frustrated breath. “I don’t like this.”

“It’s
the hood, Emmy, or a view of the two bodies in the back seat. Take your fucking
pick.”

She
turned into stone.

“What
did you just say?”

Calisto
laughed bitterly. “Fuck, did you seriously think that I somehow managed to find
out where you went, get to you, and whatever else I had to do without a few
casualties along the way?”

Emma’s
tongue felt too thick to speak.

“No,”
Calisto said harshly. “I left a trail of dead bodies all over Vegas between
yesterday and today. You are far luckier than I can explain, Emma.”

He’d
killed for her.

And
saved her.

All
she did was scare him.

Finally,
Emma found her voice.

“Stupid,
you mean.”

“Desperate,”
Calisto murmured.

Emma
jerked in the seat when she felt his fingers come in contact with her cheek
overtop of the hood.

“I
think you were desperate,” Calisto repeated softly.

“I
just …” Emma didn’t know what to say.

“You
tried, look at it that way.”

“And
failed,” she said.

“But
you did try.”

“It
wasn’t worth it, Calisto.”

Calisto
chuckled. “Depends on how you look at it.”

“I
can’t see much right now.”

His
fingers stroked her cheek again.

“I
can, Emma.”

Emma
blinked rapidly and sucked in a huge gulp of air when the hood was finally
pulled from her head. It took her a second to focus in on her surroundings, and
realize that she was sitting in a familiar car.

Calisto’s
rental Mercedes.

Glancing
to the side, she found Calisto watching her from outside of the car with wary
eyes. He leaned in the door a bit, keeping one hand on the car and the other on
her jittery leg.

“Hey,”
he said.

Emma
wet her dry lips. “Hey.”

“You
picked a good spot to drop this car.”

“Why
is that?”

“It’s
one of the only places that doesn’t seem to be open twenty-four, seven, and
there’s an alleyway I can use.”

“For
what?” she asked.

Calisto
smirked. “I have an SUV to burn.”

Oh.

Emma
shot a look over Calisto’s broad shoulder, noticing a dark SUV parked in the
alleyway he mentioned.

“No
cameras, I checked,” Calisto said. “Easiest way to clean up a mess is to burn
it. Or that’s what Affonso always told me when I was younger.”

She
recoiled at the very mention of her future husband. Calisto didn’t miss the
actions.

“Sorry,”
he said quickly.

“It
doesn’t matter.”

“Liar.
It does.”

Calisto
didn’t say another thing. Instead, he closed the door on Emma and she watched
him move to the back of the Mercedes and pop the trunk. Calisto pulled a small,
red can from the back before walking over to the SUV and disappearing into the
dark alleyway. Not ten seconds later, he was back in view.

Without
the gas can.

Pulling
something shiny from his pocket, Calisto glanced down at his hands. A light
bloomed, telling Emma he held a lighter. When he tossed it, the car lit up
instantly.

Emma
looked away. She didn’t speak again until they were driving far away from the
closed convenience store and the burning SUV.

Calisto
slowed the car down and stopped for a red light. He watched the cars speed
through their green light, his hands tightening around the wheel enough for his
knuckles to turn white under the pressure.

“Thank
you, Calisto.”

“Don’t
thank me, Emmy.”

“But
you saved me.”

“Yeah,
but what difference does it make, huh?”

Emma’s
heart clenched. “It makes a huge difference to me.”

Calisto
shrugged. “I still have to give you away now. The only difference this time is
that I know the monster I’ll be giving you to.”

“It’s
okay.”

She
lied.

It
wouldn’t be okay at all.

“It
won’t be,” Calisto said.

She
watched him through hazy, water-filled eyes. She didn’t understand him for a
minute, but she wanted to more than anything.

Emma
wanted to know Calisto.

Anything
he might give.

She
was too late.

Her
wants no longer mattered.

“Why
did you do that to me in that place?” Emma dared to ask.

“I
didn’t have a choice. They have rules they follow—things they do. I couldn’t
break them, being the newcomer to the group. It might have made me seem
suspicious.”

“Liar.”

Calisto’s
jaw clenched. “Don’t, Emmy. Just forget about it. I’ll get you back to your penthouse,
you have a few hours to spare before you have to meet up for one final dinner
with your parents, and then another night to sleep before New York.”

“Liar,”
she repeated, refusing to acknowledge what he said.

“Emma—”

“You
did it because you wanted to. You wondered what I felt like. You thought about
doing that to me. That’s what you said.”

Calisto
hit the gas as soon as the light turned green, sending Emma flying back in her
seat. “You’re goddamn right, Emmy.”

She
took a burning breath.

It
felt fucking good.

“Would
you do it again if I asked you to?”

“
Emma
.”

“Well,
would you?”

His
hands tightened on the wheel again, and his gaze burned brightly with things she
hadn’t seen from him before: need, lust, and want. Calisto still didn’t answer.

Emma
didn’t really need him to.

Calisto

“You
should get dressed.”

Emma
didn’t give any indication that she had heard Calisto speak from the other side
of the large living room. She stayed sitting in a large chaise, twisting her
fingers together over and over, while looking out the wall-to-wall windows of
her penthouse.

She
hadn’t spoken for hours.

She
didn’t move.

Calisto
wasn’t sure what to do, but he knew that he couldn’t keep worrying over Emma
Sorrento. The more he thought about her, and the more he concerned himself with
her emotional state, the worse he knew it would get for him.

He
had first felt it at the auction. It hit him when he entered the “showing
rooms,” as the people had called it. He saw her behind the glass where she was
standing straight, blindfolded, and swathed in white. She was compliant in the showcase,
but her defiance had come through in the clench of her fist and tight set of
her lips.

He’d
seen it.

And
felt it.

The
affection
.

It
burrowed deep in Calisto’s chest like a thousand little pins sticking into his
lungs, determined to hurt him. He’d stayed back, watched her through the glass
to keep his interest from being too obvious, but it’d taken every ounce of
willpower he had left to do so.

Because
he couldn’t disregard her.

Something
he wanted had been just out of reach. Something he worried about was in danger.
Something he cared for was hurting.

Someone,
not something.

Emma
.

Calisto
leaned in the entryway between the kitchen and living room. Crossing his arms
over his chest, he ignored the ache settling in his bones. It was goddamn hard
to do.

It
started in his fingers, the digits he’d used to explore, to touch, and to learn
Emma, and then quickly traveled up his arm and into his chest. He tried—God, he
was fucking trying—to forget her needy little sounds and the way her mouth felt,
wrapped around his fingers while he fucked her with his other hand.

This
was not good.

This
was terrible.

She
was just a woman. That’s what Calisto wanted to tell himself; that’s what he
wanted to believe. Emma was nothing more than a woman. There were other women
for him to want. To obsess over.

It
couldn’t be Emma Sorrento.

Not
for Calisto.

She
was taken.

She
was claimed.

She
was not his.

In
a few days, Calisto would hand her off, and that would be that. He wondered why
it wouldn’t be that easy to let her go. 

What
good had saving her done?

He
had simply taken her from one monster to give her to another.

Calisto
drew in a slow breath, and exhaled through his nose. It was yet another attempt
to cool his urges down, forget about his needs, and focus on getting the job
done.

Except
she wasn’t just a job.

Emma
wasn’t a thing. She was a person. Calisto didn’t know how to not see her as a
woman so that he could just do what needed to be done. She was struggling with
what she had done, what happened, and what was yet to come. He could see the
weight on her shoulders, pushing her deeper into her seat with every passing
second.

“How
long do I have?” Emma asked quietly.

Her
voice, raspy and tired, surprised Calisto. She hadn’t spoken in so long that he
wasn’t sure she would speak to him again at all.

“Before
what?” he asked.

“The
dinner with my parents, Cal.”

Calisto
tossed a look at the clock on the far wall. “An hour and a half,
mia
dolcezza
.”

Emma’s
shoulders stiffened at his casual use of a pet name. My sweetheart, he called
her. Calisto wasn’t sure why it had bothered her. It wasn’t the first time he’d
used it on her when they conversed.

But
it is the first time you called her yours
, he thought.

Calisto
grinded his teeth in an effort to shut out his inner voice. The damn thing
hadn’t been helping him much lately, so he wasn’t about to start listening to
it now.

“I
have a little bit of time before I need to get ready,” Emma said.

“I
thought maybe you would want to get over there early and spend some extra time
with your mother and father, or even your uncle, before tonight’s flight.”

Emma
shook her head subtly. “No. I’ll see them enough in New York before the
wedding.”

“They’re
your parents, Emma.”

“They’re
just people who brought me here. DNA doesn’t mean love, Calisto.”

She
was right.

Calisto
was living proof of that.

Sighing,
he ducked his head when she turned to look at him. “Are you just going to keep
sitting there doing nothing?”

“Maybe,”
Emma murmured. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“How
many others did you see in there last night?”

Calisto
stilled on the spot, taking in her question. “What do you mean?”

“Girls.
At the auction. How many?”

“A
lot.”

Emma’s
stony features cracked when she openly frowned. “How many is a lot?”

“About
ten.”

Maybe
ten wasn’t such a high number, but for the price those girls cost the men who
bought them, ten was enough to make a killing.

Quite
literally.

It
disgusted Calisto, but he saved the one he could. There was nothing more he
could do.

“Who
were they? The girls, I mean,” she said.

Calisto
thought about the term he had heard used at the auction. “Valuable
collectables.”

Emma
flinched. “Oh, my God.”

“Slaves,
Emma. They’ll have no past, no future, and no real present because they’ll no
longer exist as regular people. But girls like you, girls like the ones they
had gathered for last night, are considered collectables to those people.
Whoever they are. It’s a very private event, and the only reason I was able to
get in like I did was because of the methods I used to do so and the money I
was able to show for the effort.”

“So
they have more than one.”

“Likely,”
he confirmed softly.

“Aren’t
you worried that they’ll come after you because you didn’t hide me like they
said?” Emma asked.

“You
mean getting you out of state?”

“Yeah.”

Calisto
shrugged. “No. In a few days, Emma Sorrento will no longer exist as she is. She
will be—”

“Emma
Donati,” she interrupted calmly.

Calisto
clenched his fists at his sides, letting the bite of his fingernails soothe the
rush of possessiveness that filled him at hearing her name when it was changed.
He liked it—but he hated who it would be changing for.

“Yes,”
he managed to say. “And who you become matters very little to them as long as
you’re someone else. Their concern was only with making you disappear before
your family realized who had taken you. You were worth a lot for them on the
auction block, but the longer they kept you, the greater the risk of outside
influence or retribution. Simple as that.”

Emma
wet her lips and stared down at her lap. “It has a nice ring to it, doesn’t
it?”

“Pardon?”

“Emma
Donati. It has a nice ring.”

Calisto
swallowed hard. “It does.”

“It’s
too bad, really.”

“What
is,
bella
?”

“My
name. I like it, but I hate the man giving it to me.”

Calisto
had to agree, but he chose not to voice it.

Emma
smiled crookedly, and glanced up at Calisto again as she added, “Well, I guess
that depends on how we look at which man. I only hate the one, after all.”

“The
man you’re marrying?”

“Yes.
But I don’t hate the one giving me to him.”

Oh.

Well,
then.

Damn.

“You
should get dressed,” Calisto said lamely. “Your engagement ring and other
jewelry is where you left it.”

Emma
stared at him, unmoving and seemingly unashamed at her boldness. The fire in
her eyes had replaced the blankness from before. She was still wearing that
white ensemble from the auction, but only because she had refused to do
anything when they returned.

She
looked almost innocent, but her sensuality was hard to forget.

Sinful,
still.

Calisto
was all too aware of her sins.

His,
too.

“What?”
he asked, annoyed at her staring.

“I
might ask you to do it again.”

Calisto
shut his eyes for a brief second, wanting to wave those words away. Was she
testing him? He didn’t want to play those games.

“I
might,” Emma repeated. “And I bet you won’t say no.”

Opening
his eyes again, Calisto found Emma’s piercing, knowing stare still leveled on
him. He had known even before opening them that she was still watching him. It
was like he could feel it.

Feel
her.

On
him. Over him.

All
through him.

“You
won’t say no,” she told him again, confident and sure.

He
would try to refuse her.

And
fail
.

“Heavenly
Father, thank you for this meal and for our health, family, and our many
blessings.”

The
beginning of Minnie Sorrento’s prayer drew Calisto out of his thoughts and back
to the dinner at hand. Checking out the other people sitting at the long table,
he noticed that everyone had their heads down, eyes closed, and their hands
connected with the person beside them if they were close enough.

Calisto
sat beside Emma, but her hand stayed firmly seated on the table and far away
from his. He wasn’t complaining.

“Thank
you, Minnie,” Maximo said from the head of the table. “Let’s eat.”

Food
was served. Dishes filled. Mouths were fed.

Calisto
listened in on the conversations that filled the dining room, but didn’t bother
to join in unless he was directly asked a question. At his side, Emma stayed
quiet with her head drawn down as she pushed pieces of chicken pesto around on
her plate.

It
took Calisto another two minutes to realize he was doing the same damn thing.

“How
do they not know what I did?” she asked quietly.

The
loud conversations, continuous laughter, and the wine being shared between the
people at the table allowed Calisto and Emma a mostly private conversation. He
wasn’t concerned about being overheard, what with the volume of the noise.