Depraved

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Depraved Page 11

by Pucci, Trilina


  Rage courses through my veins like a life source. It pumps through my body like a drug, giving me focus and power. I step in quickly, bringing down a swift hook to his jaw, hearing it crack under the pressure.

  “She’s mine. You wanna fucking steal from me, you piece of shit?” I growl as I hit him again even harder, hearing another crack. “Who the fuck is gonna go through me? Nobody.”

  The sound is intoxicating, and I look at the ceiling, taking in gulps of air. I’ll never let anyone hurt her.

  I keep hitting him, again and again, his head swinging with every blow. Grunts and spit fly from my mouth as I unleash my rage on him, unstopping and unrelenting. His head hangs down, dangling after each assault, making me adjust my stance until his legs finally give. He’s unconscious, maybe dead.

  But I don’t stop, swinging into the air and stumbling backward as his body swings away from me.

  “Dante. It’s done… Stop. It’s done,” Antonio whispers, putting his hands on my shoulders to steady me.

  I lunge forward, but the guys hold me back, keeping me in place. I stand, breathing heavy and in a haze, staring at the body, knowing I’ve killed him. Good fucking riddance.

  “Come. Come…we’ll take care of it,” Vincenzo coaxes, pulling me backward.

  Antonio’s holding out my jacket for me to put on, but I reach into my slacks pocket, pull out the cloth I’d shoved in there earlier, and wipe my hands. Blood stains the rag as it removes the evidence of my indiscretion.

  I fold it and lift a clean part to my face to wipe away some blood spatter that’s hit my cheek and look at the guys. “Burn the body. But make sure he’s found. I’m going to speak to our princess about who the fuck her family really is. Because the one thing I know is Sarah’s been lying to me. To us.”

  I tug on my suit jacket, my breath still labored, and my head tips down. I see the spit still on my shoe. Grabbing my coat, I pull it on as I walk back to Frank’s dead, hanging body.

  Reaching out, my hand steadies his limp body as I wipe the shoe he spat on over his pant leg.

  “Save me a spot, Frank, because it won’t really be hell until I arrive.”

  I turn and walk past the guys, and straight out of the building.

  The moment the freezing air hits my lungs, I feel refocused, awake, pulled from my haze. Running my hands over my face, I stand and let my breathing steady, feeling calmer with each moment that passes.

  My driver steps out and opens my door, letting me slide in and shutting it behind me as I pull my cell out and dial Matteo. I want answers, and I won’t wait until I’m home.

  He answers on the first ring.

  “Boss.”

  “Put her on,” I clip out.

  There’s silence, and then I hear her voice blast through. “Where have you been?”

  “I want to know who the fuck your family is. And I want to know now.”

  THE HAIRS ON MY ARMS stand on end over the tone coating his words. His voice is gruff and angry. It doesn’t sound like Dante. More like the men I’m used to. He sounds unhinged, rageful, and unpredictable. And I don’t like it.

  “Don’t speak to me like that,” I say calmly because he feels volatile, even over the phone.

  Why is he angry? I was so relieved when he finally called, and now I’m totally thrown.

  Dante lets out a growl as he answers, “I’ll speak to you any way I like. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll answer my fucking question.”

  What the fuck? He’s insanely angry.

  I’ve been waiting hours for him to call. Hours. All I’ve wanted was to tell him everything, to let him help. To let him in. But right now, I don’t trust that anything I would say to him could be seen with clear eyes.

  “No. You aren’t going to call me and start yelling for answers. Calm down and then we’ll talk,” I snap, irritated at his insistence. “I had a shit night. What the hell has gotten into you?”

  “Right. Fucking. Now,” he roars, banging sounding off in the background.

  “What is wrong with you? You’re acting like a lunatic,” I yell back, throwing an arm in the air and turning my back to a watchful Matteo.

  I can only imagine what the car will look like afterward.

  “I’m a lunatic? Huh? You’re right, sweetheart…I’m the asshole protecting a girl who’s fighting me every step of the way and keeping more secrets than the truths she tells. Don’t deny it…because that will just be adding to your lies.”

  My voice catches in my throat as I answer, “The only secrets I’m keeping don’t need to be told.”

  “That’s what I fucking thought. Nothing stays a secret forever. Remember that.”

  The contempt in his voice guts me. If I didn’t know better, I would think he’d found my family.

  “I won’t talk to you like this,” I breathe out quietly.

  The line is bathed in silence, interrupted only by Dante letting out an audibly ragged breath.

  “I found a guy. And that someone’s left me with unanswered questions. Ones you will answer willingly. Or this time I’ll make you.”

  The harsh control in his voice makes my eyes falter. My hand brushes up to my throat as I stand stoically, trying to keep my composure. Three hours ago, he was the only person I thought could bring me the peace I needed.

  And now I realize how stupid I’ve been. I don’t know what means he’ll use, but this Dante isn’t any version I’ve met before or one I care to.

  “You can stow your fucking threats. Whatever you’re thinking in that head of yours, let me assure you that you’re wrong. My life isn’t as predictable as you may think.”

  His voice booms over the line. “How the fuck would I know anything about your life? You’re one big goddamn secret. No matter how easy I make this for you, no matter how much help I offer, all you do is hide.”

  I start to pace as we speak. “That’s all I know how to do, Dante.” I wrap my arm around my center and say the words before I can stop them. “I can’t believe that for a minute I actually thought you’d be what I needed.”

  My head tips back, and I stare at the ceiling, standing in place as we stay in silence. Dante lets out a breath before speaking in a quieter tone.

  “Even after all that’s happened between us, you won’t trust me. You refuse to believe that I know what’s best. That I’ve got your back. Unbelievable. You aren’t the girl I thought you were.”

  He’s not seeking my answer. Dante’s speaking aloud, like an affirmation, a validation for whatever he’s planning to do next.

  I could correct him. Tell him it’s not true, but where he is, in this headspace, it’s no good. Better for him to hate me because it’s clear that Dante protecting me has become intricately woven into how much we like each other.

  But me and him, we’re for another lifetime.

  And I can’t trust him with the truth—tonight was evidence of that. So, I do what I do best and push back.

  “We don’t have anything to do with all this shit. And we don’t even exist. We fucked. That’s it,” I spit angrily.

  Dante’s growl weaves around his words. “I’m gonna make you eat those words off a plate from where you crawl to lick me clean of the person who came before you.”

  There’s hating me, and then there’s this.

  Rage burns my skin. He’s a bastard.

  I spin and look at Matteo, furious. I want to scream. Tear down the wall. But instead, I drop the phone from my ear and walk back the few steps to where Matteo stands. I can hear my name being yelled through the phone, but I hand it back, leveling him with a glare.

  “Tell him that when he’s ready to act like a sane person and be fucking polite, I might speak to him. But not a goddamn minute before.” My voice raises even louder at the end as my temper spikes higher.

  Matteo hands the phone back to me and shakes his head, but I know Dante heard me loud and clear.

  “Sarah. You know who he is…stop stoking the fire and answer him.”

  �
��Fuck you! I won’t ever be spoken to that way. And if he wants to kill me for it, then he can get the fuck in line.”

  Matteo puts the phone back to his ear and winces as he hears Dante yelling.

  “Sorry, boss, but she won’t speak to…” He nods his head. “Yeah. I think so.” More nodding. “I can…I could try and make her…”

  My eyebrows raise, but whatever Dante’s saying cuts him off, and Matteo seems uncomfortable as he listens. His eyes dart to me, and I swear he looks apologetic. Matteo lowers the phone, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows and meets my eyes.

  “Well?” I ask expectantly, waiting for an answer.

  Matteo holds his hand over the phone and squares his shoulders.

  “He says you have two choices. Take the phone back and answer, or take your spot on the living room floor, head bowed, hands on your thighs. Because either way, he’ll get the answers he wants. It’s your choice whether or not you enjoy the process.”

  My hand strikes out across Matteo’s unsuspecting face, his cheek reddening immediately. Leaning in close, I sneer, “That’s for your boss, since we’re passing messages.”

  Checking the time again, I crane my neck to the kitchen clock from where I’m sitting on the couch. Eleven o’clock.

  I pour myself another glass of chardonnay, hoping he walks through the door this time.

  It’s been an entire day.

  We collided, teeth bared and armor on, Sunday night, but he never walked through the elevator doors. Matteo stayed with me most of the night, although he’s not speaking to me after I slapped him, and then it was a steady stream of the guys ever since. But nobody will tell me anything. They’re barely speaking to me.

  If I thought my situation was bad before, now I know it can be worse.

  Monday’s about to come and go, and still no Dante.

  I wish I felt nothing, that I didn’t care, but I do. My nerves are raw and frayed. I’ve picked up the phone to call Dominic or Luca, but I haven’t. Too many questions, too many explanations I won’t give to do that.

  My leg bounces with my unease as I stare at Antonio, who’s sitting no more than ten feet from me. I know he knows what’s going on, but he’s the most standoffish. I think he’s still pissed about the scissors and Vincenzo. In my defense, I had no idea what was going to happen to me…it was survival of the fittest.

  “Is he okay?” I breathe out, extinguishing the silence.

  Antonio folds down the top of his paper and stares at me for a moment. “He’s alive.”

  “That’s not what I asked,” I answer with a scowl.

  He stares at me longer and nods. “He’s Dante. You’ve fucked him over. He needs to get past that.”

  I draw my knees in, taking a sip of my wine. “How did I fuck him? He called me screaming like a psychopath. Demanding, being a bully. I needed him yesterday, not the other way around.”

  He laughs, folding his paper and setting it aside. “You underestimate your place with him. You’ve kept him in the dark. And for people like us, information is a means for survival. You’ve made him go at this blind. And because of his history, he’s willing to do that for you. But I have a feeling he wants you to care about that even more than he needs you to agree with it.”

  My glass rests against my lips as I listen, trying to see the bigger picture.

  My eyes lift to Antonio’s, and suddenly, he doesn’t seem so reserved, so removed anymore.

  “I do care, Antonio. That’s why I’m doing what I know I need to, but in another life, I think he could be a man who I…”

  The elevator dings, and my head snaps to it as Antonio says, “He’s here. Remember what you were about to say, beautiful.” He stands and starts past me, giving me a hard look. “Especially in the next few minutes. Nobody said the job of queen would be easy, Sarah.”

  Before I can say anything, the elevator doors slide open, and Dante’s hazel eyes meet mine.

  Antonio blocks my view as Dante enters, so I take the moment to take another sip of my wine. I don’t know what to expect, and Antonio’s words aren’t making me feel any better either.

  I turn to look back again as a squeal accompanied by an overenthusiastic giggle bounces off the walls, and I stop breathing.

  What the fuck.

  The scene in front of me comes into focus as my mind scrambles to process what the fuck I’m seeing.

  Dante’s arm is wrapped around a leggy blonde who’s come to stand by his side, his hand resting on her ass.

  I’ll break that hand.

  Her boney fingers run over Dante’s lapel, and I have the extreme urge to yell at her to get the fuck off.

  Antonio walks inside the elevator, not bothering to look at me as Dante leads his Barbie doll inside.

  I wonder if she’s just as easily breakable as the real doll.

  His face is buried in her neck as they walk, and I can feel my heart beating out of my chest.

  I need to think straight. I blink my eyes a few times and look down, sweeping my eyes for the water I thought I had, but instead, grab my wine and down the rest of the glass.

  “Sarah,” Dante greets, coming to a stop, trailing his hand up and down her hip.

  I can’t look at him. My eyes are fixed on the movement of his fingers on her skeleton. That’s what she is. Skin and bones, no meat, no curves. Nothing. She couldn’t be more opposite than me.

  “What are you doing?” I blurt out, tearing my gaze from Dante’s toy to his face.

  “I’m going to bed. What are you doing?” he answers, coolly.

  Motherfucker.

  “You’re serious right now?” I snap, tapping my nail against my wineglass.

  “As a fucking heart attack,” he sneers, tearing his arm in between them to point at me. “I can’t even fucking see straight. I tore the car apart. You should’ve just answered me…” he barks, his gaze drifting to the open area in the living room. “Or been on your goddamn knees.”

  I huff, rolling my eyes. I can’t say anything for fear that it’ll give away how much he’s hurting me. Because that I won’t give him.

  He grabs Barbie’s face and tilts her head, sinking his mouth onto her neck and letting her go just as harshly. “So, she’s here to do what you won’t…to fucking listen.”

  I could kill him. His choice of words stabs me directly in the gut. I can feel the heat under my skin burning with my temper. He’s brought this girl here to punish me.

  And it’s fucking working. Damn him because he’s damned me.

  “Okay,” I say, taking a breath, hoping for some amount of calm. “Well. You have fun,” I bite out, shaking my head “But let me point out that you didn’t know—for two days—that I wasn’t on my knees and you still brought this whore home?”

  Dante narrows his eyes at me, disliking my point. “You’re the dick in this scenario. Not me for avoiding speaking to a lunatic.”

  “Um, excuse me,” Barbie pipes up with a whine. “Don’t let her call me a whore.”

  “Oh, come on, you know who you are, hooker,” I snap as she scowls. “I don’t have the desire to examine your poor life choices right now. Do what you’re good at and be quiet. Or better yet, say something else and not even Dante will be able to help you,” I offer with a smile.

  The son of a bitch actually chuckles. “If I’m reading this right—and I am—you care that I brought another woman back to my home?” He smirks arrogantly. “You’re jealous.”

  I wipe my cheek, afraid of a tear that may fall. “You want me jealous. I’m not. I’m disappointed that you keep proving to me that you’re like all the rest of the men in my life.”

  I see his hands fist and the anger spike like electric shocks through his body.

  “No. That’s bullshit. You fucking care. Admit that shit. Now,” he growls.

  We stand staring at each other, our eyes locked.

  “I couldn’t care less,” I counter, lying through my damn teeth as his toy runs her hands over his shoulders. It’s like she’
s in heat. Fucking bitch.

  “Yeah?” he challenges, shrugging off Barbie’s hand on his shoulder. “You don’t care who I fuck, right? We don’t exist, right?”

  “Abso-fucking-lutely!” I bark, crossing my arms, still holding my wineglass.

  Dante narrows his eyes at me as we stand locked in a fierce stare down. I refuse to look away until he admits he’s being an asshole. Simple as that. I win. No other option.

  “Unbuckle my pants,” he directs in a low gravel.

  I open my mouth to say “hell no” when I hear his buckle rattle.

  That wasn’t for me.

  My heart stops, right in my chest. He’s not talking to me. My head shakes as I watch her jump to action.

  His hips jerk forward, and my eyes shoot to his waist as Barbie pulls the leather from the hook. I glance back to him, and he smirks as she unbuttons his slacks but leaves them zipped.

  My chest begins to rise and fall faster as fight or flight begins to take over. Because that’s a natural reaction when someone declares war. But my body is still trying to decide if I leave or kill everyone.

  “Get down on your knees,” he growls.

  Her hand slides across his chest as she looks over her cheap-ass shoulder and steps out of her heels, slowly dropping to her knees.

  My words get caught in my throat, eaten by the bile trying to come up. My arms drop to my side, and I stare at him, not even trying to hide the hurt behind my eyes anymore.

  Dante’s not my boyfriend, and I don’t love him, but this still feels like a betrayal.

  “You could stop this anytime, Billy. Just say what I want to hear,” he says tenderly, and I want to scream.

  His eyes don’t leave mine, and I say exactly what he wants to hear, but it all stays in my head because he doesn’t deserve to ever hear it.

  I want you, just for me, more than I’ve wanted anything in my life. I haven’t stopped wanting it since you first touched me, but I’m leaving and never coming back. And that’s all for you. All my lies have all been for you, not against you.

  My eyes blink away the thought and drop to the couch. I grab a pillow, tossing it in their direction. “Here, for your knees. Bruises are a hooker’s dead giveaway. You wouldn’t want everyone to know your trade secrets, sweetie.”

 

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