Unbroken

by Aria Ford

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  AYA

  Holding my breath, I stood close to Marco near the door on stiff legs peppered in goosebumps. Luciano’s stomping rattled the entire house as he searched for Sylvi, and fire thinned my blood. Big hands rested on my shoulders, and a shiver lodged between my shoulder blades when one of them slipped from its perch.

  “I’m going to video this and savor it for years to come, ragazza di coniglio.” The air rushed from my lungs, and Marco shuffled for his phone behind me. His body was hot even through his clothes, and I bit down on my inner cheek as his mumble floated over the crest of my ear. “A man is never as vulnerable as when he’s got his dick out, you know. I’m sure Sylvi didn’t bother to get someone to stand guard for him while he tortures some poor slut.”

  Tilting my head, my eyes widened at the wide, almost maniacal grin that spread across Marco’s face. Glancing down at me, he shrugged a shoulder as he fiddled with his cell phone before speaking up again.

  “It’s a fundamental rule, ragazza di coniglio. Always have someone you trust to make sure no one interrupts… even if it is only 10 minutes.” My heart jumped into my throat when Marco carefully pushed back my hair, his eyes sparkling with desire and something darker. “I’m jealous of my brother. I always have been. But at least I can sleep well knowing that if he could find you, then so can I. This life- it does terrible things to people. The only respite is finding your ignorante angela… and death, of course.”

  “You don’t have someone that loves you?” Marco’s eyes narrowed at my question, slowly shaking his head as I pursed my lips into a thin line. Above us the stomping was rhythmic, and I tore my gaze from his to stare at the stairs.

  “One day, maybe.” Murmuring, Marco grunted softly before an ear-splitting crack echoed through the house. Jumping at the sound, I backed up into his chest as he tightened his grip on my shoulder. Beating hard against my ribs, my heart squeezed, and my nails dug into my palms at the shrill shout that followed the sound of wood splintering. “Show time.”

  Luciano stalked towards the staircase from the second floor, dragging a struggling, half naked Sylvi behind him. My gaze followed the pair as they quietly made their way, but the muted atmosphere didn’t last long.

  Tossing Sylvi down the stairs, Luciano followed closely behind as the rough banging assaulted my ears. Cringing at the groans and grunts that wrenched from Sylvi, I hugged myself as tremors assaulted my spine. The hairs on my body stood up straight, blood rushing to the thin sinew that wrapped around my bones.

  Landing in a heap at the bottom of the staircase, Sylvi pushed himself onto his hands and knees and shook his head wildly. The slap of skin on skin pulled a gasp from my throat as Luciano grabbed his boss by the back. He was so calm even as his thin, sharp nails dug into Sylvi’s flesh, and a small smile picked up my lips at the look of concentration on his face.

  The thick ropes of muscle that planed Luciano’s chest rippled as he hauled Sylvi off the floor, and the smaller man didn’t try to stop him. He knew- he knew there was no escaping; the thought caused my smile to grow.

  No one could escape Luciano, and pride ripped through my chest.

  With a sickening crunch Luciano slammed his fist into Sylvi’s collar bone, and heat rushed through me at the sound of his scream. Stumbling back, Sylvi nearly fell over the leg of an end table, clutching his broken bone. Grabbing Sylvi by the jaw, Luciano pulled his gun out from his jeans to aim low.

  Just like with the woman, the only sound that bounced off the walls was the gunshot and shrill, pained shrieking. Sylvi crumpled like paper, his kneecap shattered and blood pouring to stain his pants.

  Another shot- a second bullet hole tearing through Sylvi’s left leg. And I couldn’t take my eyes off the scene as Luciano drew his face close.

  “If you ever look at Aya, I’ll gauge out your eyes. If you try to touch her, I’ll cut your dick off and feed it to you. And if you try to kill her, no one will save you. Not Georgio- not your replacement. I will fucking kill you.” Luciano’s promises were loud in the otherwise quiet room, and Sylvi nodded shakily. The small man didn’t speak, only emitting pathetic whimpers under the powerful, firm declaration of the man that had shot him. Lifting in a snarl, Luciano’s lips twitched to reveal sharp, white teeth as he aimed his gun against Sylvi’s opposite collar bone.

  “Good that you understand.” One, final, bang echoed through the living room, and Luciano dropped Sylvi to watch him sob and writhe on the floor. Blood stained the hardwood, it invaded the air, and I stared with wide eyes as the monster in him began to recede. Releasing my shoulder, Marco stepped around me to put his phone camera close to Sylvi’s face. Capturing this moment of agony, his smirk threatened to tear his cheeks.

  “I thought you wanted to break his face, fratello. Got impatient, didn’t you?” Thick and jovial, Marco’s words only pulled a grunt from his brother. Taking the space between us, Luciano pulled me to his chest in a crushing hug. Wrapping my arms around his blood splattered chest, I took a deep breath of his heavy smell as his gun pressed against my back.

  Safety- I had never felt so safe before even as my tormenter lay only feet away.

  “There were too many ways… but he isn’t worth my fists.” Luciano’s voice was gruff, gravelly, and I hummed as his heart pounded against my cheek. Squeezing the air from my lungs, he pulled back to tuck his gun away before grabbing my arm. His eyes were hard, the same pitch black they had been when we met, but my heart swelled knowing it wasn’t directed at me. Tugging me towards the stairs, he gave one last look at Sylvi only to snort in disgust as Marco played with his pale, pain riddled face.

  “Call Tretet. Make sure he doesn’t die.” Marco only waved Luciano off, a sick, gleeful expression painting his face as he poked and prodded. Tearing my gaze away, I followed Luciano silently up the stairs and down the hall.

  In the safety of my room, the haze that had spread through my mind cleared. It was just us- Luciano and I. Releasing my arm, he made his way silently to the bathroom, and I pulled my lips between my teeth. The muscles on his back rippled dangerously before they disappeared, but he didn’t bother to shut the door. Water pelting tile filled the room, and for a moment I stood near my bed.

  “Aya!” Luciano’s booming call made me jump, and my legs carried me with no thought from my head. My heart pounded harder as I crossed the threshold into the bathroom. His jeans were on the floor, gun on the vanity, and I gulped down the cotton that settled against the roof of my mouth.

  Blood rushed to my cheeks at the sight of Luciano’s nakedness, his rod standing proud and hard against his abdomen. Inching forward, I could clearly see the line where his pants had kept Sylvi’s blood from touching him. Flexing my fingers, I reached to smear the red, warm liquid before he reached for the hem of my borrowed shirt.

  “Get in, mia Aya.” Sucking in the warm, moist air through my teeth, I lifted my arms for Luciano’s small tenderness. Carefully stepping into the shower, hot water splattered against my ankles and rushed my feet. Closing my eyes, I relished the feeling before Luciano entered to position himself under the burning spray.

  My hands had minds of their own as they crept up his back, gently rubbing his taut skin. Just as he had at the gym, he braced his palms against the tile under the shower head. Water tickled my face in tiny droplets, and I reached for the hand towel that hung beside us. The sense of déjà vu was almost overwhelming, and Luciano groaned softly as I wiped away the blood that clung to his side.

  “I love you.” Speaking softly, I almost wished Luciano hadn’t heard me; to risk shattering this beautiful moment. Even the water hitting the tiles wasn’t enough to drown out my declaration, and under my hands he stiffened.

  My mind was clear- there was nothing behind me fueling my words.

  Slowly turning, Luciano stared down at me as I carefully removed the evidence of the day from him. There were two people’s blood still staining his clothes, but he would be free. Free of Sylvi. Free of Georgio.


  Free of everything. For me.

  Luciano cupped my face, tilting my head up to press a soft, innocent kiss on my lips. His earlier fierceness was gone, replaced with a determined delicateness that said what he couldn’t put into words.

  BROTHER’S BEST FRIEND UNWRAPPED

  CHAPTER ONE

  AMELIA

  “Whew!”

  I sighed as I collapsed through the door of my apartment in Berkeley, shivering from the cold wind. I put my shopping bags on the floor and blew self-made hot air on my fingers, trying to warm them. As I slammed the door behind me, shutting out the freezing cold wind, I said an inner prayer of thanks for the heating system and hung my coat on the peg by the door.

  It doesn’t seem possible that it’s December already.

  It was the twentieth already, and I had just finished my shopping. Pausing to wipe my shoes neatly on the welcome mat, I carried my stuff through to the kitchen to unpack. My neat, pristine, Account-style organized home offered me its bleak welcome on the way past.

  That wind does destroy one’s good hair days, I thought ruefully, catching my own eye in the tall mirror by the kitchen. My honey-brown hair was wispy and had fluffed out around my face, flushed with cold. I blinked blue eyes, damp with the wind.

  With the cold, at least my cheeks are pink.

  It was the best I could think to say for myself as I hefted the shopping bags and headed to the kitchen. I knew I was self-critical; most people said I was pretty and on my good days I could see it. Right now, I was cold and stressed and all I wanted to do was check if I’d finished my last-minute gift-shopping. In the kitchen, I lifted the weight of it onto the counter and opened it carefully.

  In the bag were some basic groceries and some gifts: socks and chocolates for Brett, my big brother, and some little surprises for his kids, Cayley and Josh, bought at the local sweet-shop. I was sure I would see them sometime this holiday, but I didn’t know when.

  “I hope he lets me know soon.”

  As I unpacked the rest of my groceries, I silently swore at my elder brother, Brett, for failing to let me know when I was expected to arrive. He was always like that—impulsive and unpredictable. From the time when he spontaneously brought the entire junior football team back to our house without warning, to the time he announced out of the blue that he was flying to LA for a job interview, my elder brother’s been surprising me. I just hoped that he might think to give me some warning about his Christmas plans.

  Well, I have the gifts sorted at least.

  With a smile of contentment, I gathered up the bag of gifts and headed to my sitting room. He could do his worst now, for I was all set for presents. I’d bought Brett a new leather wallet—the socks and chocolates were a filler. No matter what he sprung on me now, I was ready. As I checked my mails, I heard a message tone.

  Speak of the devil. It was Brett. I read his message, grinning wryly.

  I just remembered: will you come for Christmas? Reese and I are off from tomorrow. Would love to see you. Let me know today?

  I rolled my eyes, my heart warming with the typical Brett-ness of the message. Spontaneous, generous and forgetful, that was my big brother all rolled into one. Four years my senior and settled down with two small kids and a wife, Reese. He was still as unpredictable as when he was a kid.

  I didn’t need to think about my reply.

  Great! I’ll drive through tomorrow. Should I bring something?

  I was lonely here in Berkeley although my brother’s home on the outskirts of LA was not too far away. Here in Berkeley, there was just me and Jess, my friend from work. Who else would I spend Christmas with if not Brett? Not only would it be amazing to see him again, but the added draw of the kids was irresistible. Cayley was now ten and Josh almost eight years old; both of them all bright eyes and endless questions. It would be perfect to see them at Christmas.

  I barely had to wait for the reply. It came back instantly.

  Just yourself, Mel. We’ll have enough for the six of us for dinner.

  I read that through twice before I noticed the inconsistency.

  Six of us?

  I could only count five. Me, Brett and Reese, and two kids. Who was the sixth person? I whizzed off a reply.

  Six? Brett, have you miscounted?

  It seemed he was taking longer than usual to send back a reply, so I leaned back and contemplated that, trying to guess who the sixth guest could be, if it wasn’t just Brett’s typing mistake. It wouldn’t be our mom. She was spending Christmas in Michigan with her partner, Gareth. Of Brett and Reese’s friends, there were very few of them who didn’t have partners or families; so it was unlikely to be just one person if it was one of them.

  Unless…

  My heart stopped. There was only one person I knew who would come alone.

  It can’t be.

  But it was. Just as I reached the conclusion by myself, a message came back through from Brett. Heart thumping, I read through it. It confirmed my worst expectations.

  Oh! Sorry, sis. Forgot to tell you. Reese and I invited Carson Grant. That okay?

  I sighed. If I gave the true answer, I would have flashed back, “absolutely not”. Or would I? I leaned back, thinking about it. Carson Grant had been my boyfriend, once upon a time. He was Brett’s friend first, though, which made things difficult. Tall, dark and brooding, Carson had captured my heart back in tenth grade when Brett had brought him home from a college football match.

  I closed my eyes, trying in vain to shut down the memories that were flooding my mind. Carson and I in the movie theater together. At home in the garden, under the tree, kissing. Making love. Carson had been my first lover and, I had to admit, the best one.

  He left me, I reminded myself. He ended things.

  Even so, as I reached for my phone and replied to my brother’s request, I couldn’t help the fact that my heart was thudding, my spirit anticipating. Carson. I hadn’t seen him for years. Not since he left me and joined the military, in fact. What would it be like to see him again?

  It wasn’t like I could refuse to. Brett would be upset and I wanted to see my brother and his family, and had no other plans for Christmas. If I demanded he leave his best friend out of it, I don’t think he’d be too happy. And besides, astonishing though it seemed to me, I wanted to. Maybe I’m just a sucker for punishment. We’re all adults, so I can handle this.

  Even so, my reply was brief but affirmative.

  Okay. See you tomorrow ‘round lunch. That okay?

  The reply came back at once again.

  Awesome! The kids are so excited! See you, sis! Hugs.

  I couldn’t help a smile at that. I leaned back on the couch and closed my eyes, shopping forgotten. What would it be like, to see Carson again? I tried to imagine what he might look like now. Probably bald, I told myself harshly, with hard eyes and no sense of humor.

  The latter was not overly-hard to imagine: Carson had always been serious. It was one of the things that drew me to him from the beginning; that dark, brooding quality that had set him apart from the rowdy crowd that usually surrounded Brett. I had liked him from the moment I saw him, mostly for that quiet, serious side. I wondered how his years in the army had changed him.

  Is he still tall, dark and quiet?

  Handsome went without mentioning; he had always been that. The same way a skyscraper is always so high up it hurts to look up from ground level. My memories of him when he was twenty, and I sixteen, I used and built a picture of him in my mind. He was tall, with black hair and deep brown eyes, a firm jaw and the straightest, most handsome nose I ever saw. Combined with high cheekbones and a full, mobile mouth, Carson could have walked out of a Disney movie as the handsome prince. Except that Disney never invented handsome princes with the quiet, distant character of someone from the “Twilight” saga.

  Carson, I thought, sighing. I always did love you.

  That was why it had hurt so much when, somewhat abruptly, he had decided to end things. He had
called to say he had finally decided to join the military. His dad was in the army, so it seemed the natural course for him after finishing his time at college, and then we split just like that.

  I never really understood why, and he had never really explained. Too arrogant, probably, to think his actions needed explanation. He had always come across as thinking of himself as better than others; probably simply because he kept himself to himself a lot and people assumed he was stuck-up. I knew better; or at least I thought I did. After his sudden betrayal, I didn’t know.

  He might have said something.

  It had all been so sudden. And so complete. From being connected, we had suddenly been strangers. He had never contacted, never let me know how he was; hadn’t even agreed to be friends, which is what I had hoped. I didn’t want to lose touch with him. I might only have been eighteen, but I could have waited. Could have endured the time for which he was serving. Back then, he had thought it might only be a year or two.

  Now, ten years later, time had proved it otherwise. He had made the military his career, and gone off to Iraq. I followed the news for a while, wishing I knew if he was okay. Brett had stayed in touch, so I knew he was still alive, and safe. I also knew he had returned earlier this year.

  I hadn’t expected him to come for Christmas.

  Brett, I thought, tired, you really know how to drop me in it.

  Beside his liveliness and his impulsiveness, another defining characteristic of my big brother was being blameless. He was so cheeky and charming that he only had to smile and people automatically let him off the hook, even when he had done something naughty when we were kids. The blame usually either dissolved or shifted, somehow and inexorably, to me. I spent quite some time as a kid explaining away some of Brett’s blunders or crazy pranks.