by KL Donn
As she starts her lessons, my head begins to pound, and by the time the bell rings, I’m ready to crawl out of my skin. Needing the Tylenol in my locker, I rush there, hoping to remain unnoticed.
Today is not my lucky day, however, as Eric and his friends arrive as I’m twisting my lock open. Attempting to ignore them, I grab the small pill bottle and shove it in my pocket. Slamming the door shut, I go to turn, but they box me in.
“Well, well, well.” Eric’s slick smile doesn’t fool me. “Look what the cat dragged in.” He presses his body into mine, and I move my head, trying to get away from his putrid breath. “Did you give it up to the little Italian boy, poser? Got enough left over for the rest of us?”
I shake my head back and forth, but I can feel his hand crawl under the bottom of my baggy shirt. Sweaty fingers against my skin, fear forces my body to shiver, and he takes it the wrong way.
“She’s quivering for us, boys.” He cups my breast in one hand, and I whimper and begin to cry. Eric leans in further and buries his head in my neck, licking along the column of my throat. I fight back the urge to gag.
Words force past my constricted throat, but like always, they fail me miserably. I can’t save myself from Brian, so why should I be able to from these thugs.
Wrapping his arm around my neck, Eric guides me down the long hallway, whispering repulsive things in my ear. “Around the corner, you’re going to get down on your knees and choke on my cock until I come down your scrawny little throat.”
I begin to fight him then, pulling away, crying, scratching at his face. I feel the skin tear along his eye, and blood surfaces. He curses long and loud, back-handing me so hard I spin in a circle before crashing into a metal trash can.
Immediately, my already bruised ribs scream in agony, and I scurry back into the corner of the hall. Near the construction class door, I see someone peer out, and, from that distance, I can see their eyes widen in shock before they slip back into the room.
Eric kneels in front of me. “You’ll pay for this. You’re coming home with me tonight, and we’ll take it out on this pussy and ass you’ve been hiding away from everyone.” His friends chortle.
As he tries to grab me, the shop door slams open so hard the bottom section flies off its hinges, and I hear Natale scream Eric’s name, causing fear to enter his frigid gaze.
“Get the fuck away from her!” Natale hisses as he reaches us. I could feel the rage pulsating off him before I even saw him, but when he gets a look at the state of my body, the bruises on my face from, first, Brian and now Eric, plus the tears freely flowing, I feel legitimate horror for what he’s about to inflict on Eric.
“The fuck did you do to her?” Natale picks Eric up by the back of his neck and tosses him across the hallway like he weighs nothing. The sound of clattering lockers draws more people to the impending fight.
“Hey, man.” Eric puts his hands up, trying to placate Natale. “She was already busted up when I found her.”
Knowing that Natale will kill Eric if he gets his hands on him, I throw myself forward, gripping for Natale’s leg and missing. Bellowing as I land on the floor, white dots my vision, and I can barely breathe.
Gazing down at me, the ferocity clears, replaced by concern, and I know I must look terrible because Natale dismisses Eric with a flick of his wrist to come to my aid.
“Is it true? You were hurt before, tesoro?” His eyes don’t stop roaming across my body as his hands search for somewhere to touch that doesn’t look sore. “Who did this to you?” I meet his stare, attempting, without success, to tell him that he already knows who.
It takes a minute, but it finally registers, and something so ominous enters his gaze as he reaches for his phone and speaks sharply to someone in Italian.
I don’t need a translator to understand he’s likely just ordered Brian’s death. I should feel guilt, but my body wilts in relief.
Maybe now, I can be free.
“Hang on for me, tesoro,” are the last words I hear before giving into the darkness.
Natale
Two times in my life, I have felt absolute terror.
At twelve, when I nearly lost my mother. And when Posy gave into her agony and passed out.
It is not a feeling I handle well. It makes me lose control, and when the paramedics arrived to care for my girl, I punched one in the face and slammed the other to the ground.
I don’t want anyone touching her. I don’t want anything to happen to her, and the only way to rectify that is by spending every second of every day with her.
I know I’m about to cause a shitstorm for my family. I’m going to pay hell for it too, but I can’t stop it. The red-eyed beast inside me has taken complete control.
“If you don’t knock it off, I’m going to arrest you, and you won’t see her at all,” the officer who is currently holding me against the wall with his baton at my throat threatens.
“I’ll fucking kill them all,” I snarl as another officer drags Eric and his friends away.
“Not with me around.” My officer rolls his eyes, shocking me with his ability to not only understand my Italian but speak it.
“Where are they taking her?” I demand to know.
He shakes his head. “To Mercy of Angels Hospital. She needs x-rays and fluids,” he explains. “Now, calm the fuck down.” As he turns his head to watch the paramedics roll an unconscious Posy away, I notice black ink from a tattoo on his throat and reach up to pull the collar of his uniform down.
The marking shocks me. A red and black cardinal in flames shoots up from his chest.
My eyes drop to read his name tag. “Cardarelli,” I growl. His gaze darts back to mine. “Morello.” I grin when his grip loosens and his lips twitch.
“Well, shit. Pops is gonna be shocked to hear about you.”
“Domino?” I ask. The Cardarelli family was close with ours in Italy but moved to America years before we did. He and his brothers were born here, even though their father has remained in Italy. Domino is the youngest. We’ve never met, but I’ve heard stories of him, and I know he’s good police.
“Natale.” He shakes his head as he lets me go, pointing to follow after Posy. “Never thought I’d get to meet the infamous kid killer.” He laughs when a few shocked faces step back.
Watching Posy being loaded into the back of the ambulance, I hasten my steps and hold the door open before the paramedics close it.
“I’m coming too,” I bark, getting ready to climb in when I’m grabbed from behind.
“No, Natale, you’re not. You damn near took their heads off when they were trying to work on her. You’ll ride with me,” Domino informs me, and I can see from his stance and the hard look in his eyes, I’m not going to win this one.
He’s also likely right.
“Fine.” I turn to the men in the ambulance again. “No male doctors. Call ahead, let them know. I see one male in any room with her, and heads will fucking roll.”
“We can’t guarantee that,” one of them responds.
Dropping my head, I hate the next words that leave my mouth to make them understand because I don’t want to believe the possibility exists.
“She might have been raped.” Their silence is deafening. I heard everything Posy didn’t say. Every confession, all her pain, every ounce of torture filling her fragile soul.
“We’ll do our best.” And I’m going to have to be satisfied with that.
My eyes linger on the space they were parked long after they left as I try to regain my composure.
“Why do you think that, Natale?” Domino finally asks, and as I turn to face him, I notice half the school is still outside gawking. Seeing the on-lookers, he nods his head to his patrol car for privacy. “You talk, I’ll drive.”
I sit in the front seat, and he shakes his head. “That’s against protocol.”
“Do you care?” Dom shrugs.
“Start talking.”
“Her father is a cop.” His face remains neutral, bu
t I see the slight widening of his eyes.
“We should call him them. He should know.” I’m shaking my head before he’s even done talking. “Why not?”
“Something’s not right. Papà compiled a dossier on Posy and her family last night. The address on file, directly from the department, isn’t even accurate.” It still bothers me that I couldn’t get to her last night.
“So? They could have moved recently.” His need to believe the good in his brothers in blue is admirable.
“I don’t think so. Twenty years on the job and the man has never been promoted, never gotten any recognition for a job well-done, nothing. And his partner is the same.” The more I think about it, the more real it becomes. I’m convinced her father is a dirty cop and his partner is either a child molester or a rapist. Or both.
“What are you saying here, Natale?” Domino glances quickly at me before turning.
“He’s dirty. His partner more so. Something happened to the father a couple of days ago, and his partner practically dragged Posy out of school. Reluctantly, too. I hadn’t seen her since then.” My fists curl into tight balls until my knuckles are white and ready to pop out of my skin.
“Are you talking about Ethan Ivanov?” The disgust in his tone confirms my suspicions.
“The one and only.” I can see the hospital in the distance and grow tenser. “His partner is who concerns me, though.”
“Brian Lackey.” Said with just as much disgust.
“What do you know about them?” I question.
He shrugs. “Accusations are floating around about both, but IAD can’t prosecute because there’s no evidence. Think Posy would be up to talking to me?” He sounds hopeful. I almost hate to squash his excitement.
“Not likely,” I respond, and he shoots me a questioning look. “She doesn’t talk, man.”
“Is she deaf?” I shake my head, and he mutters, “Traumatized.”
“What?”
Sighing as we pull in behind the ambulance, Domino shuts the car off and turns sideways to look at me. “I see it a lot in kids who have witnessed or experienced something so horrific that talking about it makes them physically ill or worse. Shutting down and becoming non-verbal winds up being easier because chances are, they’ve already tried to alert someone, and that person didn’t listen to them.”
I feel sick to my stomach. “You think she tried to report it?”
“It’s entirely possible.” Domino doesn’t look any better than I feel about it.
“Can you find out?”
Exiting the vehicle, he looks at me over the roof. “I’ll do what I can. But Natale, you have to know, whatever it is I discover, you can’t go off half-cocked. You need to let me do what needs to be done.”
“You know the stories about me from Italy. What happened. I can’t promise you anything. I can’t…” Struggling to find the words, I turn my head and notice doctors and the paramedics surrounding Posy’s gurney, her limp body looking like death.
Walking away, I know I can’t promise Domino a damn thing. I’ll do everything I can to protect Posy, and if that means disposing of her father and his partner, then that’s what will be done.
Chapter 5
Posy
Waking up, I’m usually alert, tense, ready to run at a moment’s notice. Not now. I’m groggy and sluggish. And that terrifies me more than anything else possibly could. Opening my eyes to bright light makes my head feel like it’s ready to explode, so I try to lift an arm to block out the fluorescent annoyance, and I can’t.
I’m tied down.
Every night terror I’ve ever had has come to life.
He’s got me, and I can’t get away.
I’m trapped.
Restrained and unable to break free.
“Calm down, miss. You’re safe,” a feminine voice says, but I can’t see anyone. I don’t know if she’s real. I don’t know if anything is real.
“Miss Ivanov, you’re at Mercy of Angels Hospital. You were injured. We had to strap you down and sedate you when you became combative. We can’t let you loose until you calm down,” a sterner female voice says, and I feel probing between my legs.
No.
No.
NO!
This can’t be happening. Never have I wished for my voice as strongly as I do right now.
For Natale.
I should have accepted his help. I should have begged him to come to me instead of pushing him away.
“It’s going to be okay now,” the first voice soothes.
But she’s wrong.
So wrong.
I have no idea what’s happening, but it can’t be good.
Did he…?
Was I…?
Oh god.
I find it then. The strength my mother always said I have. The one burst of energy to scream, “Natale!” so loud that my voice cracks as loud as a breaking bone.
Crashing can be heard above my sobbing, but nothing feels tangible until he’s there. Standing over me. Screaming and cursing at everyone in the room.
“Get the fuck away from her! You said it wouldn’t hurt her. You fucking swore she would be fine.” His eyes are like that of a wild animal, an untamed lion, and I try to reach for him, but again, I’m halted by the restraints.
Thrashing in the bed, I need to be free. I need out. I need…
Natale.
Cupping my face in both of his hands, I’m caught in his mesmerizing gaze. “Hey, tesoro, stop. You have to lie still for me.” I nod, and he looks back to someone. “Take them off.” The command in his voice can’t be ignored.
His nostrils flare as he waits impatiently, and I’m suddenly noticing his nose ring for the first time. Was it always there? I have no idea, but I focus on the small hoop piercing his skin. Spiraled in white and yellow gold, it shines bright in the light, casting off waves like a kaleidoscope.
“Now,” Natale growls the single word, and the nurse snaps to attention. The second I feel the straps loosen, I rip my arms away from the rails and take a short, sharp breath as tears leak out of the corners of my eyes. It’s the same relief I feel after…
After.
Shame assaults me.
Consumes me.
Encapsulates me in a claustrophobic hood of anxiety.
Rotating my head away from Natale, I fight back the feelings of inadequacy and fear of his rejection.
He doesn’t care, though, not yet, as he places his head against the back of mine, murmuring, “You said my name.” I can hear the tortured happiness he feels over it too. He hates why I screamed for him but loves that I did.
“Look at me, tesoro, please.” He doesn’t wait for me to do as he says because he reaches around and grips my chin between two fingers, forcing me to concentrate on him. “Whatever this is, whatever has happened, you’re safe.” He searches my eyes until I nod. “Nothing will ever happen to you again.” I can see he believes that.
I just can’t, though.
“This is Dr. Fields, she’s a physician here at Mercy of Angels.” He nods to the woman still sitting between my now covered legs. “Over here is nurse Paige; she specializes in helping women who have been assaulted or abused.” I can’t help the hiccup of fear that bursts from my chest. “And this,” he points to another woman, long dark hair, tattoos up and down one arm, a gun strapped to her thigh. She’s beautiful. “This is Anatonia Bocharov Lupo. She’s ex-KGB, ex-MI6, Marine trained badass bundle of a killer that nobody will cross if they wish to take another breath.”
I stare up at Natale, blinking rapidly, confused about who she is to him and why she’s here.
“I’ll explain it all later but know she watches in my stead, and she will lay down her life for you.” I shake my head repeatedly, not wanting anyone to die for me. The mere thought causes me anxiety.
Anatonia steps forward, gripping my free hand. She leans down and whispers in my ear, “I know who he is and what he’s done. The shame is in your eyes. He will pay dearly.” With that vow, she stan
ds tall, studiously observing the entrances to the room with a diligent eye, but never lets go of my hand.
“Mr. Morello?” the doctor prompts, and Natale growls at her.
“I have to go now. I’ll be right outside, though,” he says and nods towards the door behind the curtain.
I don’t want him to leave, and my body begins to shake so violently that excruciating pain radiates through my entire frame, and I can feel myself on the verge of passing out again.
“Calm down!” Natale snaps. “You have to understand, tesoro, if I’m in here, and they tell me he has…”—his head hangs—“If he raped you, you won’t like the man I’ll turn into. You’ll run, and I’ll only prolong his torture.”
“Going to pretend we didn’t hear that,” Dr. Fields mutters.
I nod my head, not because I understand; I don’t, but because I want this all over with. I want to go… I don’t even know anymore.
I have nowhere to recuperate. Dropping back on the bed, I let go of Natale’s hand and tighten my hold on Anatonia as he walks out the door.
The next hour is the most invasive, impersonal, sickening moment of my life. I silently cry through every step, every scrape, every probe, and blood draw. Through pictures, x-rays, and ultrasounds, I hold in the vomit forcing its way up my throat.
Eventually, Anatonia sits on a stool next to me. She settles her chin on the pillow beside my head, places my hand on her cheek, and holds my eye contact.
It doesn’t take long for me to see it.
Her own tragedy.
Her own shame and disappointment.
All the betrayal she has felt her entire life.
In that moment, I can forget my own sorrow and focus on her. Natale said she’s a killer. She’s undoubtedly trained to be an excellently skilled one, but right here, right now, I don’t see the badass woman he described. I see the woman who is hiding her own grief from the world.
I see her.
“Alright, Miss Ivanov, we’re all finished.” The bed is raised, and the doctor and nurse sit next to me on their stools. “You were not raped.” I close my eyes, relief easing the tension in my shoulders. “However, the tears and bruising of your vulva and vaginal opening, the scars on your inner thighs, indicate you’ve been assaulted.” My chin drops to my chest. “And if I had to guess, I’d say some form of abuse has been going on for years.”