Depraved

by Pucci, Trilina

  My eyes drift to my arm as I’m sewn back together with the black wire.

  “We need to send a message” I say absentmindedly, watching the needle slide into my skin and curl out again, bringing the skin taut. “Hey, Doc, you got more of that stuff?” I question, motioning with my chin to my arm.

  He nods as he works, not taking his eyes off what he’s doing.

  Antonio clears his throat, and I look up to a jerk of his head. My face turns sideways, meeting the fiery blue eyes that are glaring at me. Sarah’s standing in the doorway with fury etched on her face, Vincenzo behind her.

  Her eyes drift to my arm being stitched up, and her face drops, but only for a fraction of a second. It’s enough that I saw it.

  “I see you managed to get her to cooperate. I’m impressed, Vin.” I smirk.

  Vincenzo shrugs. “Your girl and I have come to an agreement. No more trying to stab me, and I won’t put her in the trunk.”

  “His girl?” she throws out and rolls her eyes.

  I almost laugh, but instead, just smile because, to them, she is. I threatened everyone at the party who came near her. So, it makes sense.

  Sarah narrows her eyes as she begins to walk toward me. Vin moves to stop her, but I give a head shake. Her eyes shift, taking in the guy chained to the cabinets as she walks around him, completely unfazed.

  Stopping in front of me, she shakes her head. “Vincenzo told me what’s happening. I’m not being held hostage at your house, Dante. Think again.”

  Her eyes are locked with mine in a standoff, but she’s already lost.

  “How’d you convince her to be reasonable, Vin? Because I seem to be coming up empty.” I laugh, breaking our eye contact to look at him.

  He holds up his gun and waves it. “We played a little game called Glock, paper, scissors. Glock beats scissors.”

  Antonio lets out a laugh, quickly coughing to cover it up. But I let mine shake my chest.

  “Hold still, please,” the doc directs.

  “I hope it hurts,” she hisses, making my smile grow.

  I crook my finger for Sarah to come closer. “Make coffee when you get home—I’m gonna need some. And tell Vin everything he needs to know. And I mean everything.”

  Fuck. If looks could kill, I’d be a dead man. I grin down to her enraged face. “I told you this is in your best interest. Make peace with it, Billy.”

  “If you think you’re going to lock me up, you’re high. Fuck that. You said, ‘ask me for help,’ and I said ‘no.’ How hard is that to understand?” she snaps viciously.

  “Stop assuming I care about what you want. I don’t. I’m the great big bad, remember? You’ll do as you’re fucking told.”

  Sarah laughs loudly, narrowing her eyes at me. “I don’t follow any man’s lead. Including yours, Dante Sovrano.”

  I’m amused at her choice of words. “I remember the first time you said that to me. And do you remember what happened?” Her eyes falter, then double down with anger. “That’s right, beautiful. I wasn’t asking then, and I’m not asking now. Go home.”

  I turn my head, effectively dismissing her, but when she doesn’t move, Vincenzo comes and grips her arm to pull her out, causing me to watch. Something about seeing his hand on her arm makes the words jump from my lips.

  “Attento. Se lasci un segno, ti rompo il collo.” Careful. If you leave a mark, I’ll break your neck.

  He must loosen his grip because Sarah looks at him and then back to me, confusion all over her face as he escorts her out.

  “You’re finished,” the old doc says, giving me a sly grin while he stitches my arm.

  I give a half laugh, knowing he isn’t talking about my arm. I look back to the hall where they’ve disappeared, a frown taking over my face. “Yeah. She’s growing on me.”

  A grunt comes from the ground, and I look to see our rat friend waking up.

  “Finish up, Doc, and leave me some of that wire, will ya?”

  Antonio walks to the counter and snags a small carving knife, looking it over before turning to me.

  The doc places a bandage over my arm, then digs inside his bag, gathering the things I requested before he faces Antonio.

  “My car?”

  “Waiting outside for you,” Antonio answers, slapping a wad of cash on the counter.

  The doctor swipes the money as he walks out and doesn’t look back.

  Muffled cries rise from behind the duct tape on our shackled friend as he takes in his surroundings. Squatting down, I look him in the eyes. “Hey, Frank.”

  I grip the tape at the side of his mouth and rip it off, slapping my hand over his mouth roughly as he screams. “Shhh…”

  Antonio walks over and hands me the carving knife. I flip it back and forth between my fingers before I look at Frank again. “I’ve had a helluva day, so I need you to try and be still when I cut out your tongue.”

  He starts to kick his legs, flailing his body as he screams into my palm, but I stare into his eyes as Antonio holds down his ankles.

  “Go ahead. That’s it. Get it all out…” I whisper, leaning in closer. “Your squeals sound a lot like the way fucking rats sound before they die.”

  His head begins to shake as tears fall from his eyes, but I press my hand harder into his face, crushing the back of his head into the cabinet.

  He’s sobbing with deep guttural regret. I don’t blame him. He knows he’s going to die.

  “Frank. Shh, shhh…stop. It’s okay, because after I do it, I’m gonna stitch you up real nice, so everyone knows they have to keep their mouths shut or I’ll do it for them.”

  I roll the sleeve on the new dress shirt Antonio brought for me, as I sit in the back of my black SUV, noticing a speck of blood crusted over the bone on my wrist. I wipe it on my pants a few times to get rid of it and sit back, letting out an exhausted breath.

  The windows in the car are heavily tinted, keeping the sun out, something I’m grateful for, seeing as I’ve been up for twenty-four hours now.

  What a fucking night…or day actually.

  I pull my phone from my pocket when I feel it vibrate.

  “Speak.”

  “Cleaning crew is at Church. We should be good to open on schedule. I’ll keep an eye on things here tonight. Then it’s closed for two days, so we should be all good,” Antonio clips out quickly.

  “Perfect. Let me know if anything goes down. And let me know when you get rid of the rat we found in the kitchen. Nasty fucking animals,” I answer, knowing he knows what I mean.

  I want to know when he dumps the body where it needs to go to ensure my message is received loud and clear.

  “Will do.”

  The line disconnects, and I sit staring at my phone. I want to call her. No, it’s worse—I want to check on her. A smile tugs at the corner of my lips as the picture plays out in my head when I remember how mad she was in that kitchen.

  She didn’t even give a second thought to the asshole chained up. I laugh, relaxing back into my chair. I don’t know whether to call her a psychiatrist or propose because this girl is definitely one of a kind.

  What amount of crazy am I walking into, Billy? I say to myself before shooting off a text to Vincenzo.

  Me: How is she?

  Vincenzo: Asleep an hour after we arrived but not before she took a swing at me. But you should be all clear. Good luck.

  I can’t help but laugh because this girl is no joke. I’m gonna need all the luck I can get.

  MY EYES FLUTTER OPEN, THE sun beaming in on me from the floor-to-ceiling windows in the bedroom I’m sleeping in. I roll over, turning my back to the light, feeling heavy from my exhaustion and hot from the clothes I slept in. I hadn’t planned on falling asleep so quickly, but everything hit me all at once. So now I’m in full winter attire and feeling like I’m on fire.

  I tried to convince Antonio to stop by my house or a store, just so I could grab some clothes, but he deemed me untrustworthy.

  One little left hook, and I’m a
monster. Fucking baby.

  Sitting up, I unzip my black leather boots and pull them off, dropping them to the carpet next to where I’m lying in my cream-colored decorated jail.

  I can’t believe I slept like this all night. What time is it?

  I look around the large space for a clock, but I don’t see one. The whole room is fairly bare. Clearly a guest room, housing just a bedroom set and a light wood entry table.

  I would check my phone, but seeing as how the assholes confiscated it last night, I can’t.

  “Vincenzo… Are you standing outside my door?” I yell as I roll my neck and cross my arms to pull off my sweater, pausing only to wait for the answer.

  “No, it’s Matteo,” the familiar voice answers.

  I grin because despite my circumstances, I like Matteo. He works with me at Church sometimes and always manages to make me laugh. We’re around the same age, so we’ve always gotten along well.

  “I’m changing, so no opening the door,” I call out with less snark than I would’ve given Vincenzo, but still full of the fire I feel.

  I look at the door again, waiting for a response. It’s strange to have to just trust him, but I don’t have a choice. There aren’t any locks on the doors. At least not on this room or the en suite bathroom.

  “Got it,” he answers.

  My skin tingles with instant relief as I remove my sweater and let out a breath. The cooler air envelops my body, making me shiver from being so overheated. Lying back, I unbutton my jeans, my hips doing a shimmy as I begin to pull them down.

  A light tap at the door echoes through the room just as it opens, catching me with my damn pants down around my hips.

  “Dammit! Matteo, I said no coming in,” I snap, pulling them back on.

  A deep laugh accompanies the freshly shaved face that’s walking toward me. The door closes behind him. And I see red.

  “You,” I spit, immediately angry, jumping to my feet my pants still undone.

  “I see someone’s still angry.” He smirks, setting the drink container and bag down on an entry table by the door.

  “Oh, I’m more than fucking angry.” My body lunges forward, ready to lose it on Dante. “Who the fuck do you think you are? You’ve put me in a prison. Where’s my phone…my purse?” I yell, launching myself at him, but he lifts his arms up and skirts my advances.

  My body bounces off the table, causing it to shake, and misses him.

  “Watch the coffee, wildcat.” He laughs, sending me into more of a fury.

  I let out a small guttural scream and swing at him, for any part of him. But I’m caged in by his much stronger arms.

  My head swings around for something to use, something that will hurt him, and I kick my legs out trying to twist out of his hold.

  “Relax,” he growls, pinning me in place.

  “Are you fucking kidding? You brought me here against my will. And you want me to relax?” I pant, already exhausted from the fight. He’s just too strong.

  “Yes. I want you to fucking relax and hear me out. I’m not trying to ruin your life—I’d like to help you save it. And frankly, Billy, what’s the alternative. How the fuck are you getting out? Because you aren’t going through me, sweetheart.”

  My eyes scan the empty space in front of me as I let his words sink in. He’s right. I’m not. And I’m wasting my time and my energy fighting when I should be more strategic. Nodding, I stand still as Dante slowly lets me go. I pull away quickly and turn to face him.

  “I’ll get your phone and belongings for you, so long as you promise not to use them as a weapon.” He lectures as he steps over to the table where he placed the items he had.

  “Fine,” I answer, narrowing my eyes.

  Dante’s amused expression still evident, he motions his head for me to follow him as he picks up the bag and drinks. “Now, where were we? You were taking off your pants, right?”

  He has to be joking.

  “In your dreams, buddy,” I snap.

  “Almost nightly.” He winks, making my nipples push against the lace fabric of my bra.

  I roll my eyes and cross my arms over my almost naked chest. “That’s all you’re ever getting.”

  “We’ll see.”

  He sets what I assume is breakfast on the nightstand and sits back casually on the bed, patting it for me to join him and grinning at me like the devil.

  I hate how sexy he looks. And how much it makes me want to… Damn traitorous body!

  “Am I getting a choice?”

  “No.” He answers as I walk to the bed and take the spot next to him, leaving space between us.

  “All right. I’m listening.” I huff, patting my forehead. I’m on fire and not in a good way.

  “You’ve got to be hot.” He grins with a devilish gleam.

  “I am, but you aren’t taking me out of these pants, you asshole.”

  “You sure you don’t want me to? Because if memory serves…” he croons, leaning down on his elbow closer to me.

  I hate him.

  “That’s all we are…a damn memory,” I snap, pushing him back as his arm wraps around my waist, and he rolls me over, so he’s on top of me.

  My breath stops short as he stares at me because god help me if all this anger doesn’t make me want to fuck him more.

  Dante’s leg presses in between mine, and my traitorous body wants to rub up and down until I scream.

  “Let’s do this, then talk. I haven’t stopped thinking about you…” he says low with that heavenly gravel.

  Dante’s hands run up my body, and my eyes close, sucked into the sensation as he whispers in my ear.

  “Those slinky little black stockings weren’t nearly as tight as these jeans…and I managed those just fine. The trick is to start at the ankle.”

  His lips brush my neck, and a quiet mewl pulls from me.

  Dante sits up quickly, grabbing my jeans around my ankles. A gasp escapes my mouth as he tugs hard on the jeans, pulling them down over my hips.

  My head immediately shakes as I lift my bottom, trying to pull my skintight jeans back up as I realize what the hell I’m falling for.

  “Hell no. Get your hands off me. No help required. I can take off my own damn pants,” I snap, pulling my ankle from his hand, but he grabs it again harder.

  “So you agree. You should take them off.”

  Fuck.

  His hands travel quickly down my legs to my thighs, and with a swift pull, he jerks my body closer to him as I let out a surprised squeal. My ass is flush to his thighs, my ankles at his chest, and my eyes are set on his.

  Dante parts my legs slowly, letting them fall to either side of him, and hovers over the top of me. His hands find a place on either side of my head, making the bed dip.

  “Billy, I want to take them off.”

  I hate how sexy his voice is, and I hate that my body is already begging. But I’m not giving in.

  I press my heels into the mattress and lift my pelvis, so we’re pressed together. I can feel his length hardening against my throbbing clit and the roughness of his jeans hard against the top of my silk panties. Dante raises his brows as I begin to teasingly wiggle against his cock.

  I bite my lip, feeling the stab of need that fills my core as I rub myself against him. A small moan vibrates up my throat, overtaken by the sensation.

  His eyes close, a groan coming from him. “Fuck, Billy.”

  My breath comes out in pants as I press against him harder, and he shoves a hand under my shoulder to grind against me harder.

  “Hold on…I’m almost there,” I say in a raspy breath, and his eyes shoot open to watch me.

  They’re filled with a primal intensity of want, need, and dominance. But mine are narrowed as a mischievous smile spreads over my face.

  “All done.” I announce dropping my ass back to the bed, pulling the zipper up quickly and fastening the button.

  Dante starts to laugh, shaking his head. “Sneaky. I should’ve known.” Walking his hands back
as he rolls off me and sits up. “I can’t say I’ve ever gotten hard over someone putting on their pants before.”

  Sitting up and scooting against the headboard, I shrug. “I told you I wasn’t here to play some concubine role. Keep your dick to yourself.”

  I reach for my sweater, but Dante shakes his head.

  “That’s gonna be too hot. Take this.”

  He tosses the paper bag to me. It lands in my lap and brings with it the smell of blueberry muffin, which makes my stomach grumble.

  Dante grips the back of his T-shirt over his shoulder and drags it over his head. “Here. Wear this.”

  I nod my head, averting my eyes as I take it from his hand to slip over my head. Fuck he’s hot.

  His smell clouds my senses. It’s the faintest scent of cigar mixed with soap.

  Dante stands and retrieves the drinks, and I’m not sure I could cool down if I wanted to now. Between the grinding and his shirtless body, I may actually explode.

  Especially when I sneak a glance at the way his jeans hang from his hips. That damn vee on his insanely sculpted abs point to everything I want and refuse to touch.

  I realize I’m staring and look back to his face now adorned with his sexy grin. The one that announces his amusement over making me squirm. I smooth down the oversized shirt and roll my eyes, trying to dismiss him.

  “Coffee?” he offers, holding out a to-go cup.

  “Thank you,” I say as impolitely as possible, still not ready to be nice to my warden. “What time is it?”

  I bring the drink to my lips and take an appreciative swig, almost spitting it out as I do. Dante turns to look at me as he lowers himself down on the bed next to me and stretches out his long legs. “Two o’clock. You okay?”

  I scrunch my nose and hand him the cup. “Dante. That’s not coffee.”

  He takes the cup from me, exchanging it with his. “You got mine.”

  I bring the coffee to my lips, sighing into the steam. “What kind of psychopath drinks orange juice?”

  He runs his hand over his exposed stomach and lifts his chin to the bag in my lap before diving his hand inside.

  “It’s refreshing and healthy. All that caffeine makes me aggressive.” He smirks, rummaging around for something to eat.