Depraved

by Pucci, Trilina

  Dante’s jaw tenses, all the muscles rippling, but all I feel is empty. I’m done. I’ve reached the point where I can’t care anymore.

  “You didn’t really expect me to fold that easily, did you?” I laugh, but it’s hollow. Tipping my glass back, I remember it’s empty. “Looks like I’m dry…I should put this in the sink.”

  From where I’m standing, I hurl the thin-stemmed wineglass into the next room, only half aiming for the sink. Glass shatters everywhere as it hits the countertop, and I nod, enjoying the destruction as Barbie shrieks from the floor.

  “All right, I’m going to bed.”

  I reach back behind myself and grab the wine bottle that’s still a quarter full. Bringing it to my lips, I chug some back before walking from the living room. My eyes stay forward as I pass Dante and his new bitch.

  His hand wraps around my arm, stopping me in place, but I jerk away, spitting fire. “Have fun with your girl.”

  He turns his body toward me, his deep gravel saying more than his words can.

  “She’s not my girl.”

  “And now neither am I.”

  WHAT THE FUCK WAS I doing?

  That’s the only question that’s played on loop since I came home hellbent on making her regret what she said.

  It was the look in her eyes that made me want to erase what I did. But it was her disappointment that stripped me bare.

  I became another man who’s hurt her, and that’s the one thing I never wanted to be.

  “Fuck,” I growl, throwing the sheet back from where I lie.

  Alone.

  I rub my hand over my face, taking a deep breath and rolling my neck to ease the tension I feel. There’s no going back from this. She’ll never forgive that.

  Won’t matter that I didn’t touch that girl.

  I knew the fucking move was shit, but I was gonna shove those words down her damn throat. I was so focused on that she denied us. That she didn’t care about what’s sparking between us.

  After all I did that day, the lengths I went for her and the why’s that I did it—to know she’s lying to me was too much.

  I needed her to come clean, to want to have my fucking back. Fuck that. I needed her to want me. As much as I want her.

  But that bridge was burned, blown up, and fucking decimated last night.

  I groan as I roll out of bed and stand. Running my hand over my stomach, I head to the bathroom to shower and get ready for the guys this morning.

  “Four days,” I whisper to myself, thinking about how long it took me to fuck it all up.

  I walk inside the bathroom, turn on the shower, and head over to relieve myself before undressing and sliding inside the hot shower to let the water drown me.

  Standing still, I take stock, letting the hot water rain over my bowed head. Warm droplets fall over my cheeks and face as I keep my palms against the stone wall. My eyes close as I give in to the moment.

  There has to be a move I can make. Something. This can’t be how we end before we ever really got started.

  I smack the wall, hating that I can’t get her fucking face out of my head. The look she gave me…like I’d ruined her.

  Why do I care? What does it matter?

  I don’t love this girl. I just fucked her.

  Lies.

  She doesn’t even matter. She means nothing to me.

  Lies.

  We’re gasoline set to a fire. We’re a beautiful fucking disaster.

  “Goddammit,” I roar, pushing off the wall and running my hand over my head.

  I wipe my face with one hand as I yank the shower door open with the other and step out, not bothering to turn off the water.

  Fuck it.

  I grab the towel off the counter and wrap it around my waist as I stalk out of the bathroom, dripping wet and on a mission.

  Pulling my bedroom door open, I growl out her name. “Sarah!” My head swings around to take in the living room. When I don’t see her, I yell again, “Sarah!”

  Her bedroom door opens, and she stands inside the frame, staring at me with red-rimmed eyes and no fight left in her.

  I broke her. I did that.

  It brings me to a full stop. We just stand staring at each other until the elevator dings and voices carry through the space.

  “Billy,” I mouth, but she steps back inside her room and closes the door.

  I can’t move, but I have to.

  “Hey, boss,” Vincenzo greets, but I wave him off as I turn and head back to get dressed and turn off the goddamn shower.

  We’ve been seated in my office for an hour and a half, and I haven’t heard one word being said.

  “Dante.”

  I turn my head to the guys all seated around my desk, not knowing who just called me.

  “Over here,” Antonio calls from the arm of the sofa that’s in the seating area in front of my desk. “Where are you today?”

  I lean my head back onto my chair and let out an exhale. “Jesus. Let’s just say my mind is on a stubborn girl.”

  My face dips back to the crowd, and eyes drop, accompanied with sympathetic looks playing over their faces. Something about how everyone avoids looking at me tells me that’s not for me.

  “Is there something someone wants to say?” I offer, opening my arms to the passive-aggressive assholes.

  Nico shakes his head, holding up a hand and going back to his phone. Vincenzo mouths, “No,” but crosses his arms, choosing to look down at the couch.

  “Matteo?” I question. He waves me off, clearly angry as he mumbles to himself.

  But Antonio just stares at me, tapping the newspaper he always reads on his leg.

  “Is there something you wanna say, Antonio?” I challenge, leaning in on my desk.

  He tosses the paper onto the table in front of him and crosses his arms, narrowing his eyes like he’s considering his words carefully. Of all the men, he’s been the least convinced about helping her. Antonio’s more of a “none of my concern” kind of guy. But he would never go against me, so when he does, I listen.

  He takes a deep breath, a crease forming between his brows. “That girl needed you. She asked for you, Dante. And we both know she doesn’t do that. So that stunt…with that chick. It wasn’t cool. She deserves better than that because she cares for you.”

  The muscles in my jaw work overtime as I try and restrain my temper over what he’s just fucking said. He’s acting as if everything I’ve done isn’t in her best interest.

  “You don’t have a fucking clue what you’re talking about. She’s done nothing but tell me to go to hell,” I bark, my head pulling back.

  He stands and shakes his head, and I do the same. The tension in the room begins to brew as we look at each other.

  “I know exactly what the fuck I’m talking about. But maybe you should listen instead of trying to bulldoze that girl.”

  I rub my jaw, wishing I could break his, and laugh. “No. Fuck that. Apart from the chick being kind of a dick move, I’ve done nothing wrong here.”

  My words are punctuated by my finger jabbing the desktop.

  Matteo shoots up from the chair next to Antonio and throws his arms up. “Come on, D. The other day was different—she wouldn’t even talk to Dom. Whatever spooked her was something she would only tell you. I’ve never seen her that vulnerable…she’s such a badass. And you let her drown in that shit.”

  My face contorts into confusion. I look around to the other guys, wondering what the fuck Matteo is talking about, but they’re all nodding in agreement.

  “What the fuck are you talking about?” I bellow. “What the fuck am I missing?”

  The room sits in silence, staring at me like I’m crazy. I smack the desk hard with my palm. “I said, what the fuck am I missing?”

  “Dom’s message, Dante,” Matteo says as his face begins to drop.

  How the fuck does he know my brother left me a message, and why does it matter?

  “What about it?” I answer.

 
Antonio looks at Matteo and then back to me. “You didn’t check it?”

  It’s like having to put a fucking puzzle together, and my patience snaps.

  “No. Is there something you want to tell me? Spit it the fuck out…I’m not trying to solve a mystery, dick.”

  Antonio begins to speak when Matteo stops him. “No. Listen to it. I would’ve shared the information that night, but I was too busy getting slapped for passing messages.”

  The look he’s giving me takes a lot of balls. But I knew what I was doing when I did it. I reach for my phone, feeling much too dangerous for Matteo to keep pushing me.

  “Matteo…” Vincenzo warns, shaking his head for him stop pushing his luck.

  Matteo looks away and walks to the other end of the room. That’s probably for the best.

  I pull up the message before pressing the phone to my ear and listen.

  “Dante, I don’t know what the fuck happened. Sarah…I’ve never seen her like this. She just keeps asking for you. Go home. That’s where I’m taking her—she needs you and only you, brother. Whatever you two are starting to mean to each other is all that’s holding her together right now. Take care of our girl, because she’s definitely yours now.”

  The message barely ends before I hurl my phone across the room. It shatters against the wall. I don’t think; I act. I bust out of the room and down the hall toward the stairs. Everyone jumps to their feet, calling out my name and following behind me, but I’m not listening. She fucking needed me, and I answered her by bringing home pussy to make her jealous.

  If I would’ve known.

  “Dante, relax. She’s been through enough,” Matteo reasons behind me.

  I spin around and walk back down the hall, grabbing him by his shirt and pulling him to me. Arms are thrown between us, trying to stop me from killing him, but I’m past the point of being stopped.

  “I should break your fucking neck for not telling me. You were supposed to call me with any problems…not my fucking brother,” I growl. “I should break your neck.”

  “Dante,” Antonio says calmly, pushing me back. “Let him go. He thought you knew. We all did. D, come on. We thought you knew.”

  I let him go with a shove and look at them. “And you all let me act like a monster. You thought I knew…and you let me treat her like that?”

  “Be reasonable.” Vin shrugs.

  I take a few steps backward, holding up my hands. I get it. There’s only so much they can say; in the end, I’m the boss. What they did today was all they could do.

  “I’m sorry,” I concede to the group but glance to Matteo, who nods. “Leave us. I need to speak to her alone.”

  They each walk by me and give me a pat on the shoulder, but Matteo stops and looks at me. “It’s not too late to make it right, D. No hard feelings. I would’ve done the same for my girl.”

  I nod as he walks down the stairs.

  The house grows quiet again before I make my way to her bedroom. I don’t knock or ask permission to walk in because I won’t hear her say no.

  “Billy,” I call as I open the door. “Billy, I’m…”

  “Don’t,” she says almost at the same time.

  She’s sitting on her bed, dressed, with her duffle bags packed on the bed.

  “What’s this?” I ask, motioning to the bags, but I know.

  She doesn’t look at me as she speaks, keeping her eyes on her hands as her fingers weave in and out of each other.

  “Our deal is done. I’m leaving. I appreciate everything, Dante, but I have to go now, and I’m asking you to step aside, to not push back.” Her eyes lift to mine, shiny and honest. “Just be decent and let me go without a fight.”

  I run my hand over my head and walk to where she’s sitting. “No. I’m not decent. I’m an asshole…” Squatting in front of her, I take her hands in mine. “I brought that girl here to make you mad. To force you to take back what you said, make you admit we mean something. But I sent her packing the minute you walked into your bedroom. I didn’t touch her.”

  Sarah stands and slips past me, pulling her hands away and walking a few feet away. She keeps her back to me.

  “It doesn’t matter. I don’t want this. It’s too much.”

  “Stay.”

  It’s not a demand. This time I ask.

  “No,” she answers resolutely, turning around to face me.

  “Stay. Please.”

  She shakes her head but doesn’t answer.

  “Trust me, Billy. I know it’s a lot to ask, but I’m asking anyway. I want you to say yes, but I’m not going to demand it… Stay and let me give you what you need.”

  I take a few steps, closing the distance between us, and bring my hands to her face. The moment my fingertips brush her cheek, an uneven breath leaves her body and she closes her eyes.

  She’s gotta hate herself for still needing the person she hates the most right now.

  “How do I fix this, Billy?” I urge, my face turned downward to her, feeling like my chest is ripped open as she gives a small shrug, “You need a reason to trust me again? I can give you one… Ask me what I did Sunday night.”

  I shouldn’t tell her, but I will if it makes the difference. I’ll tell her everything if it makes her stay.

  “It doesn’t matter,” she shoots out quickly, pushing my hand from her face. “I don’t want to know. There’s nothing you could say that wou—”

  “I beat a man to death.” Her eyes grow wide as I cut her off. “With my bare hands. I hit him so hard over and over that his bones crunched under my knuckles and all the breath left his body.”

  She shakes her head, wrapping her arms over her center. But I reach down and pull them from her one at a time. I don’t want her closed off to me, in any way.

  “Now ask me why,” I growl, fighting the strength in her arms as she tries to put them back.

  “It’s none of my business,” she whispers, eyes becoming shiny, as she pulls her wrists from my hold.

  “For you,” I say, hushed, cradling her face and locking our eyes “Because he told me that someone was coming to get you and that he’d make you hurt. The thought of someone trying to hurt you, someone trying to steal something I possess. Billy. It made me crazy. You’re mine.”

  She tries to pull back, her hands gripping my wrist, but I bring my lips down to hers, pressing them gently down, and whisper again, “You’re mine.”

  Her fight stills, and she stares at me as I pull back. “If you hurt, I hurt. And if I hurt, people die, so the same applies for you. I don’t know why, I don’t how, but you’ve dug your claws in me, and I don’t want you to let go.” Her hands travel up my forearms and back down, gently skimming my muscle. “I want you and I’m sorry I wasn’t here. I should’ve been here when you needed me. It’ll never happen again.”

  Her eyes search mine, and with everything in me, I silently implore her to forgive me. I need her to. All my cards are on the table.

  She doesn’t answer. She may never, but that’s the crack in the door I need.

  I pull her back to me. “Let me say sorry, Billy,” I whisper into her lips. “Let me make it right.”

  My hands drop from her face to her hips, and I push my fingertips underneath the sweater she’s wearing. “I’m here, Billy.”

  Her eyes stay trained on mine, never giving anything away as a tear escapes and runs down her cheek. My lips kiss her cheek, soaking up the evidence as I slowly run my palms up the sides of her body and lift the cashmere off her skin.

  “Let go. I’ll be here to bring you back, Billy.”

  Her jagged breath releases in a whoosh, and I pick her up, pulling a leg around my waist as her arms wrap around my neck. The other leg follows, and I stand, holding her as close as I can get her as her face buries in the crook of my neck.

  I feel her tears against my skin, and I tighten my arms around her. “I’m sorry. Let it all go. Let me take it all from you. I’ve got it.” Her body shudders as she does what she’s told. And for the
first time, I’ve never been so grateful she’s listening.

  I kiss her hair as we stand, clutched to each other, like two pieces of metal being welded together. Intertwined and indestructible.

  Her face pulls from my neck, and she looks at me. She’s never been so beautiful. Our lips find each other, gentle at first, parting slowly until my tongue pushes into her mouth, deepening the kiss. I pull away and rub my nose over hers as I turn us around, not ready to put her down, and walk to the bed to sit, keeping her straddling me.

  Her hands pat my shoulders as she takes a deep breath.

  “My brother called me. That’s why I freaked. You have to understand, my family is an unimportant band of thieves, con artists, and petty criminals. They’re the kind of people who are willing to make a secret deal to sell an eighteen-year-old girl to a low-level member of the Irish mob for the equivalent of a thousand dollars’ worth of heroin to sell on the streets.”

  She can’t even look at me, opting to look at her thumb that’s brushing back and forth on my shoulder. It’s as if she feels ashamed.

  That one motion.

  The way she looks down.

  That’s why they’ll die. Nobody makes her feel small.

  I reach my finger under her chin and tip it up to look at me and give a small shake of my head. “You don’t ever look down unless it’s at them. You don’t have anything to be ashamed of, Sarah.”

  She closes her eyes, taking a breath, and shifts her gaze back to me with the fire I’ve become accustomed to from her. “But the joke was on them—I shoot to kill, remember? Something Declan, my unwanted groom, found out on our wedding night. If you can call attempted rape and torture a honeymoon night.”

  My hands find their way under her arms and tug her forward. I need her against me. Even an inch is too much space between us. I wrap around her back, letting her tuck back into the crook of my neck.

  “Now you know everything,” she mumbles into my skin.

  “What family did the dead guy work for, Sarah?” I ask, knowing it’s not what I want to hear.

  She pulls back again to look at me. “The O’Bannions.”