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Fucking Eli’s sadism must be rubbing off on me.
21
Eli
“So, you’re sending her home without putting up a fight?” I ask Jordan as soon as he steps foot into the apartment. I didn’t have to hear their conversation to know it’s true after Maddie ran in and locked herself in the bathroom. The shower turns on, no doubt she’s finally washing her hair and crying underneath the stream. “God you’re such a pussy.”
“What else am I supposed to do?” Jordan huffs. “The only options I have are to kill you or send you both back to Vegas.”
“Is that right?”
“Have you told her father that you found her here?” Jordan asks, face twisted with anger, frustration, his hands clutching his hips.
His question is a trap. I know that because he’s already told me the options the biker boys all came up with. If I admit that I haven’t told Dante I found his daughter, stalked her, fucked her, and screwed around with her boyfriend, they’ll kill me, and Maddie will be safe to stay.
“Of course, I told Dante.”
“Bullshit. If you had, he would’ve shown up here by now.”
“I told him I was trying to convince her to come home voluntarily before he drags her ass back. I know he’s angry Maddie left, but he still wants to make amends with her.”
“You’re such a fucking liar,” Jordan remarks. “Give me your phone.”
I pull it from my pocket and toss it to the foot of the bed for him to go through it. “Code is 0-2-0-1.”
There are plenty of Vegas phone numbers in the call log, including the recent one from when Dante called in the middle of my blowjob. Not only that, I leave Dante a voicemail every few days, just saying I’m still searching, but getting closer or some shit. He never answers my calls, though. We only speak when he deigns to call me, like today.
“Well, you got a call from Vegas today. Sometimes you call a Vegas number. I’m not stupid enough to try any of the numbers from my phone,” Jordan says, tossing the device back on the mattress. “And since you won’t tell us whether or not you’ve mentioned to her father that you found Maddie with us, that leaves one choice—let you both go back to Vegas as soon as possible.”
“You’re forgetting one other option,” I point out.
“No, I’m not.”
“Sure, you are. Did it never occur to you that you could fucking make the decision to come to Vegas with us?”
“With you?” he asks with a bark of laughter. “Won’t her father kill me? That’s what you've been threatening this whole time.”
“And that is exactly what makes you a pussy. If you actually loved Maddie, and had a pair of balls, you would take your chances with Dante. You would come to Vegas, tell him you’re in love with his daughter, and beg him to let you two be together.”
“No,” he says, rejecting the idea without even considering it for five fucking seconds. “I’m not scared of Dante Salvatore.”
“Sure, you’re not. And it’s Salvato,” I correct him.
“I’m not. I just...” Staring at the closed bathroom door, he says, “Everything with Maddie is different now.”
“You mean you’re not sure if she still wants to be with you, knowing you’re also into men?”
“I’m not stupid. I know that shit complicates our relationship. We both lied.”
“You’re forgetting one other piece of information that could resolve all of your and Maddie’s problems, including your dick deficiency.”
“What’s that?”
“Me.”
“You?” he asks, sounding confused.
“Maddie loved it when I fucked her. I give her something she needs that she doesn’t get from you—a hard, rough pounding. And I have something she can’t give you—a dick.”
