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  Buttons and Hate

  Buttons Two

  Penelope Sky

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

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  This is a work of fiction. All the characters and events portrayed in this novel are fictitious or used fictitiously. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the publisher or author, except in the case of a reviewer, who may quote brief passages in a review.

  Fallen Publishing

  Buttons and Hate

  Editing Services provided by Final-Edits.com

  Copyright © 2017 by Penelope Sky

  All Rights Reserved

  Chapter One

  Pearl

  Now I was just confused.

  My primary objective was to return home as soon as possible as a free woman. I had a job I loved, a boyfriend I loved, and my friends and his family. There were many things waiting for me.

  But then Jacob betrayed me.

  What was truly waiting for me back at home? A man who cared so little about our time together that he threw me away like an old piece of trash. When his gambling debts got too high, he was willing to sell a person—me—just to make ends meet. What if he wasn’t in debt? What if he just needed money to buy a house or a car? Would he trade me in for that too?

  I didn’t know what to think anymore.

  The agony that weighed on my heart cut deeper than a blade. It hurt more than a steel baseball bat against my ribcage. There was nothing worse than having no purpose.

  And I had none.

  I looked at the jar on the table in my bedroom and saw the pitiful amount of buttons I’d accumulated. I agreed to our sick deal because I was determined to return home. But now that I lacked motivation to leave, the buttons seemed irrelevant. The only use they had was getting things from Crow. I slept with him last night because I had a button to spare. It was my currency to get the things I needed.

  That was the only value they held now.

  Crow returned from work right on cue. He walked through the front door at the same time every single day. He was punctual to the point of boredom. His movements and actions were predictable. I wasn’t sure how he managed to dodge his enemies when he had such a strict routine.

  Instead of heading into his room to shower, he knocked on my bedroom door.

  “Come in.” I sat on the couch near the fireplace. A book sat beside me on the cushion. I hadn’t started reading again since that horrible afternoon. All I wanted to do was sit still and stare at the wall.

  He entered the room with an innate authority. His black suit was buttoned in the front, and the legs of his trousers framed his muscled thighs perfectly. There were a lot of sexy qualities that he possessed, but I was particularly attracted to the strength in his thighs.

  He wore a blue tie, the kind of blue that reminded me of tropical waters. It wasn’t deep and dark like his suit. It was vibrant and beautiful. Only a stern man like him could pull it off and make it look intimidating. He made everything seem abundantly masculine. His mansion was styled with elegance and taste, and even that seemed manly.

  He greeted me with a cold stare, annoyed from the second he walked through the door.

  I hadn’t gotten in his way or pestered him, so I didn’t know what his problem was. “Yes?”

  “Knock it off.”

  All I was doing was sitting in my room peacefully. I hadn’t eaten breakfast or lunch. If his employees didn’t know I was there, they wouldn’t know I existed. “Excuse me?”

  “This pity party you’re throwing for yourself. Get over it already and move on.” He turned back to the door, having said everything he needed to say. His shoulders were tense with irritation, like he wanted to flip the chair over while I still sat in it.

  “Wow.”

  He turned around when he reached the door, his expression still ice-cold.

  “I didn’t think you could be a bigger asshole. But I guess you can.” I stormed into my bathroom and locked the door so he couldn’t follow me. I turned on the water and stood underneath the showerhead. The warm water felt good against my skin, soothing the anger away—at least some of it.

  ***

  Lars stepped into my bedroom. “His Grace would like you to join him for dinner.”

  Not after the stunt he pulled earlier. “I’ll enjoy my dinner in here tonight. Thank you, Lars.”

  He kept his hands behind his back as he stood in the open doorway.

  If he didn’t leave, he had something else to say. “Yes?”

  “His Grace said dinner would only be served in the dining room. If you would like to eat, you need to join him.”

  “Then I’ll starve.” The choice was clear. I turned back to my book and silently excused him.

  Lars shut the door, and his footsteps trailed away. A minute passed, and I knew he was in the dining room telling Crow what I had said. It was only a matter of time before Crow stormed up here and dragged me by the hair.

  His quiet footsteps approached my door a moment later. Despite how lightly he approached me, I knew there was rage in every limb. Chaos would be burning in his eyes, and he would probably slap me across the face.

  The doors burst open right on cue, and his eyes changed from cold peaks to burning lava. “Get. Your. Ass. Up.” He stood in front of me, his powerful arms hanging by his sides. “Now.”

  I turned my eyes back to my book and kept reading. “No.”

  His hand flew to my throat, and he tightened his grip, pushing my head back against the couch. He rested a knee on the cushion and leaned over me, the threat of violence clear in his eyes. “Move now, or I’ll slap you until you cry.” He shook my neck forcefully. “Don’t test me.”

  I wasn’t testing him. I simply didn’t care. “Do your worse, Crow.” My body was unable to feel anything anyway. It was numb from the blow over Jacob and that ice would never thaw. I was hopeless, having nothing and no one to believe in. Whether I was there as his prisoner or back at home, I was still alone with no one to trust. He could hurt me all he wanted, but I probably wouldn’t feel anything anyway.

  His fingers loosened on my neck and his expression changed. Something happened deep inside him. He saw a flicker in my eyes. He saw something break in my soul. He finally saw the aftermath of my heartbeat. It took some time, but he finally understood it.

  He changed his tone, dropping the violent one and adopting the gentle caress I preferred. The caring and sympathetic man didn’t emerge often. But when he did, it was beautiful. “Please join me for dinner.” He pulled his hand away from my neck and brushed his fingers along my cheek.

  The concern in his eyes brought some life back into my bones. The fact that I could sheathe his anger sometimes and bring out the gentle side of him gave me some form of importance. “Okay.”

  ***

  We had dinner on the terrace that evening. The sun had set behind
the hills, but the pastel color in the sky still lingered. A gentle breeze swayed through the vineyards and rustled the leaves of the vines. The olive trees positioned by the road darkened under the impending shadow of night.

  White candles burned in the center of the table, illuminate our faces as we ate our dinner. Neither one of us spoke because we usually didn’t have much to say over dinner. Sometimes, I wondered why he wanted me to join him when he clearly didn’t care about having company.

  “How was work?” I was the first one to break the silence.

  “It was fine.” His answers were clipped, like always.

  “What do you do there, exactly?” I knew he ran the winery, but I didn’t know what that entailed. Sometimes he worked at home, and sometimes he was gone all day.

  “A lot of paperwork. A lot of overseeing.”

  “You don’t pay someone to do that for you?”

  “I do. But it’s important to make an appearance regularly. Keeps everyone in line. Keeps them honest.”

  I remembered the way Bones shot one of his workers. The man had a seizure and couldn’t move, but that didn’t matter to Bones. He shot him in the head anyway. Without asking, I knew Crow didn’t treat his employees that way.

  “I have distribution centers all over Italy, so I visit each of them randomly. When they don’t know I’m coming, they behave themselves. I could pop up at any moment.”

  “It sounds like you don’t trust them.”

  He swirled his wine before he took a drink. He licked his lips then returned the glass to the table. “I don’t trust anyone.”

  He told me to do the same. And he was right. My own boyfriend sold me into a life of sexual servitude. I lived with the man, made love to him, and told him I loved him before I went to work in the morning. And then he stabbed me right in the back. “And you shouldn’t.” I would never make that mistake ever again. I would never let anyone into my heart. This journey showed me people were innately evil. They were never good like I once believed. I even met two women who understood I was a slave, and they didn’t give a damn about it.

  Crow set down his fork even though he wasn’t finished eating. He usually had small servings that were gone when dinner was over. But tonight, he abandoned his plate, lacking an appetite. His gaze locked to mine, and he searched me deep and wide. Sometimes he could read my thoughts just by looking at me. “I’m disappointed in you.”

  Somehow, that was worse than when he stormed into my room and told me to get over it. It was more painful. “Yes, I’m a human being with feelings and emotions just like everyone else. I can’t be a robot like you, purely mechanical.” I couldn’t get over something that devastating overnight. It would take me some time.

  “I’m disappointed that you’ve lost your fire. And I’m more disappointed that you let a piece of shit like him put it out. That’s not the woman I know. That’s not the woman I met. You’re a fighter—through and through.”

  I held his gaze and felt something similar to joy radiate through my veins. He gave me a compliment—and those were seldom. I knew I let Jacob take me down. But I simply wasn’t strong enough to pull myself back up. “You’ll never understand how I feel. You’ll never understand that kind of betrayal.”

  “I understand a lot more than you give me credit for.” He threatened me with his eyes, refusing to accept anything less than what he wanted.

  “I loved this man. I lived with this man. The fact he sold me into a lifetime of slavery just to pay off a gambling debt...” I shook my head because I couldn’t finish. It was beyond despicable. It was hurtful just to think about it. It was because of Jacob that I killed two men. It was because of him that I was viciously raped by a madman. My insufferable existence happened entirely because of him. I couldn’t get over that in a week. I’d probably never get over it.

  “Don’t think about it.” He kept his voice firm, unbreakable. “Don’t stress over something you can’t change. Don’t live in the past when you’re in the present. What happened to you was terrible, I’ll admit that. When I read it in your file, I was in a dangerous mood for at least a week. But you aren’t going to let it define you. You aren’t going to let it push you down. You’re going to get back up on your feet and push on. You’re stronger than this.”

  He still didn’t get it. “I’m not just hopeless because of what he did. I’m hopeless because there’s nothing for me to go home to. I don’t have a family searching for me. I don’t have a best friend who’s worried sick over me. Jacob was the closest thing I had to a family. And he doesn’t care whether I live or die. Whether I’m here or in America, it doesn’t make a difference.” I swallowed the lump in my throat. “I don’t have a home.”

  ***

  I washed my face and got ready for bed. My bedroom used to be a safe haven, but now I hated being in there—at least when I slept. The only time I was at peace was when Crow had his arms wrapped around me.

  He was my knight, my protector—even in sleep. But I couldn’t ask to sleep with him every night. I didn’t have a lot of buttons left, and I didn’t want to use them all within a week.

  There was a light tap against my door, masculine knuckles rubbing against it.

  “Come in.” I’d just brushed my hair and pulled it over one shoulder. I wore the t-shirt Crow left for me. It was ten sizes too big and reached my knees, but it was comfortable. In a way, it felt like he was wrapped around me at all times.

  He walked inside wearing his gray sweatpants without a shirt. His body was solid and defined, his muscles protruding against the hard lines that held his body tightly against his skeletal frame.

  He watched the fire burn in the hearth before he sat beside me on the bed. His long legs widened as he sat, his knees bent slightly up because of his height.

  My feet didn’t touch the floor.

  He rested his arms on his knees. “Do you want me to sleep with you?”

  I eyed the buttons in the jar. Six sat at the bottom, all different and unique. It was a savings account, in my eyes. I had to spend it wisely. I may have a nightmare or worse that I needed them for. “No, it’s okay.”

  He turned his head slightly my way, watching my expression. “I wish there was something I could do.” His voice trailed off, showing his pain for the first time. It was never clear whether he cared for me or not. Sometimes, it seemed like he did when he protected me. But then he’d snap and treat me like a dog the very next day. He was an enigma.

  “There’s nothing you can do, Crow.”

  “I just want you to know that I do understand that kind of betrayal. I do understand that kind of pain. And I do understand what it’s like not to have a home.” He stared at his joined hands. The short strands of his brown hair were messy from running his fingers through the slightly curled ends. “You aren’t alone. You never are.”

  I listened to everything he said, hanging on to every word. “What happened?” He never told me anything personal before. All I knew was he had a brother. And I knew they had a strained relationship.

  “My father passed away ten years ago. My mom has been gone for five.” He rubbed his fingers together, trying to concentrate on the task in front of him. Whatever he was going to say next caused him immense pain. His shoulders were stiff and he purposely took short breaths. When he was most vulnerable, he was also the least emotional. “And my sister passed away a few months ago.” His voice remained steady but he clenched his jaw like it was all he could do to remain in control of his feelings. “It’s been hard for me.”

  My heart broke into a million pieces when I heard him speak. When Jacob betrayed me, I couldn’t think straight. The agony was too much. But hearing Crow confess his pain hurt more than anything else I’d ever experienced. It was more pain than I could tolerate. I wanted to fix everything. I want to erase his suffering. “I’m so sorry.”

  He bowed his head. “I know what it’s like not to have a home. I have Cane but...it’s not the same.”

  Unable to take the distance bet
ween us a moment longer, I crawled into his lap and straddled his waist. He leaned back to accommodate my movement before he rested his face in the crook of my neck. His long arms wrapped around me and kept me in place. His breathing didn’t change, and he was as emotionless as ever. But he clung to me like my presence meant something.

  I pressed a kiss to his forehead and ran my fingers through his hair. My heart thudded hard against his chin, feeling the exact same pain he felt. This man captured me and held me against my will, but I was heartbroken when he was heartbroken. I cared for him more than I wanted to admit. When he suffered, I suffered twice as much. Was that why he was irritated with me when I collapsed under my grief? Because he had to feel it too?

  He moved his face from my neck and looked up at me, the pain still burning in his eyes. There were no tears or even a drop of moisture, but he showed his agony in a more profound way. His eyes were the gateway to his soul—which was broken beyond repair.

  I cupped his face and pressed a kiss to his lips. It was the softest one I’d ever given him. My mouth slowly moved against his, and I felt my eyes saturate with tears. Warm and salty, they streaked down my cheeks until they landed on his skin.

  He gripped me tighter as the kiss continued. We were connected in a way more profound than any other touch we’d shared. The moment was different than all the rest. He touched me like a delicate rose petal, and I poured my heart out to him as I kissed his lips. I laid my cards down and told him the truth—that I cared deeply about him.

  And he told me the same thing.

  Something snapped inside him and he withdrew. His lips were taken away, my tears still on his cheeks. He scooted me off his lap and onto the bed. Then he rose to his feet, shutting down like nothing happened at all. He wouldn’t look at me, turning ice-cold all over again.

  “Crow?” I wiped my tears with the back of my forearm, embarrassed for crying in front of him.

  He stared at the ground because he couldn’t handle the look in my eyes. His hands were on his hips, his shoulders returning to their rigid sternness. “Good night.” He turned his back on me and walked away.