Unbroken: A Second Chance Romance

by Aria Ford

  Tearing my eyes from the monitor, I clenched my teeth as Tyler leaned back in his seat.

  “I guess she’s really just a gutter girl, Luciano. Lots of suffering, lots of pain, lots of things she doesn’t understand about almost everything. And anything she does know are things she’s retained but rarely used. The Russians would have no use for her. She wouldn’t even be good for sex.” Tyler must’ve been seeing something I wasn’t, and I rolled my shoulders in the ensuing silence. Still watching the short, stocky man, I rolled what he said around inside my skull as he perched his glasses higher up his nose.

  “So she’s not good for anything.” Those smart, inquisitive, brown eyes met mine at my statement, and Tyler lifted his arm behind his head. Heaving a sigh, he kept my gaze for only a moment before nodding.

  “Pretty much. She acts like an abused animal. Everything she does is based on preconceived notions, and if she hasn’t encountered it before it takes her a long time to get over it. That being said, I’m sure she’ll make a nice slave for someone that likes that kind of new innocence.” Tyler didn’t sound convinced with his own suggestion, and I narrowed my eyes on him.

  “And Sylvi?” Glancing back at the screen, I bit out the question as my eyelid twitched. Aya had to be useful somehow; there wasn’t a person on this Earth that couldn’t do anything.

  “I’ll tell him the same thing I told you, Luciano. The fact of the matter is that even if she became more aware, she won’t do us any good. I doubt even Georgio could get any satisfaction from killing her. In my professional opinion you should just put her down.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  AYA

  Luciano’s approach woke me through the floorboards beneath the carpet; his steps were so heavy they rattled the entire house. Anchoring my hands against the softness pressed against my front, I blinked hard as my muscles strained to push me up. The door flung open, and I shook my head while my grogginess worked to suppress my fears. Twisting to peer at the gargantuan form looming over me, my body felt like thin instant mashed potatoes.

  Thick, strong fingers tangled in my hair, still damp from my shower, to hold taut. My brain snapped into action, tightening my muscles and causing whimpers to fly from between my teeth. Dragging me up, Luciano set me on weak feet while his eyes scanned my body. A dark expression crossed his face, and my knees wobbled dangerously when he took the space between us.

  “Tell me how long you were with Trevor.” My breath came in short gasps, and I squeezed my eyelids shut as Luciano’s demand rushed across my face. With a harsh grunt he released me, my body tumbling to the floor with a soft thud. Pain shot up from my elbow, forcing a cry from my thick throat before his voice rained down on me again. “Tell me now, Aya.”

  “Sev- seven-n-n… seven… se- sev-” Groaning softly, I fought the burning in my lungs as the air around me shifted. That hand that had treated me so roughly touched my face with care, pushing away the hair that clung to my cheek. Forcing open my eyes, I watched through blurred vision as Luciano’s lips thinned out, his nostrils flaring and a crease appearing between his brows.

  “Stop panicking.” Crouching down fully, the beast of a man clamped his hand over my eyes, his thumb and middle finger digging into my hairline. “Stop. Focus.”

  There were no cracks between Luciano’s thick fingers that light could seep through. Flopping onto my back, I blinked hard at the deep, unending darkness before me. My chest burned, each breath I took irritating swollen pipes and muscle. Digging my fingers into the carpet, even my nails tingled as the strands slipped between them and my skin.

  “Good. Now tell me how long you were with him, Aya.” My lips parted, but nothing came out as I inhaled a deep, shaky breath. Sinking into the carpet, I nearly groaned as the soft, cloud-like expanse cushioned me in welcome. Holding handfuls of it, my fingers rolled the strands along my palms.

  It was such a peaceful feeling. In such calm, such serenity, I felt weightless.

  “S-seventeen months.” Slurring slightly, my mumble didn’t stutter or start. Slowly Luciano loosened his grip, his hand sliding down my face. His face was in shadows, body bent to block the glistening, golden sun that streamed through the windows. Dragging his palm over my chest and down my midsection, he stopped just short of the neat, trimmed thatch of hair on my mound.

  “Tell me.” Luciano’s gaze burned down on me like brimstone, and I licked my lips even as my head tilted from side to side.

  “He-… he hit me… a lot… but-” Confusion clouded Luciano’s black orbs, and I took another breath as my stomach sank to my feet. “He didn’t hurt me.”

  For so long the silence was all encompassing; I was lost in my mind as Luciano pondered over my admission.

  Trevor might not have touched me, but he wasn’t celibate. Behind my eyes reels played, depicting the wretched acts he’d done to women and had done to him. Money always exchanged hands afterwards. Trevor made me watch, and if I looked away he would stop what he was doing to force me back. When he didn’t feel like paying a woman, he would grope me and complain that I wasn’t his type.

  “Eat this.” Snapped back into reality, I fixated my eyes on Luciano as his muscles rippled under his bare shoulders. His hand left me, replaced by a cold box before he pushed himself up straight. His gaze lingered, razing my face for a long second until he turned to leave.

  Once the door had slammed shut and Luciano’s footfalls had faded I glanced down. The tub was short and wide, and beyond the see-through plastic was a large piece of flat chicken sitting on top of spaghetti. A fork was propped on the lid, and I watched the light penetrating the windows glint off its pristine spokes.

  Slowly sitting up, my body wound tightly while saliva pooled in my mouth. Taking the fork in one hand, I carefully popped the lid with trembling fingers. It looked so fresh, as if it’d just been cooked less than a day before. The smell of butter and herbs hit me hard from the tiny crack in the tub’s top, and a loud groan flew from my lips. My stomach twisted painfully, desperate to be filled, and I peeled back the lid and gulped down the liquid that seeped from my inner cheeks.

  Holding a single, long noodle on my fork, I watched it wiggle for a moment before taking one end between my lips. Pleasure exploded from my taste buds, and another groan burst from my throat. Slurping, my cheeks caved as I struggled to pull the entire noodle into my mouth.

  One by one I savored each individual strand, and I pushed the tomatoes around. Saving the bright red, slightly squished balls, I licked my lips as my memory supplied what real tomatoes tasted like.

  These ones would be even better.

  “Mm-mm-mm…” Tracing the lip of the tub with my thumbs, I stared at the small pile of noodles, tomatoes, and piece of chicken that was left. My stomach was bloated, bulging out slightly as I sat on my ankles on the floor. Mesmerizing, the food called to me to eat the rest as my body gurgled and rumbled in agreement. Pursing my lips together, I gently covered the tub with its lid and clamped it down.

  The snap that echoed around the room made me frown, but I shook my head hard to get rid of the thoughts. Clamoring to my feet, I clutched the container to my chest as my feet carried me to the bathroom. Slipping through the cracked door, I instantly spied the sink before rolling my bottom lip between my teeth.

  I can’t just keep this out… Inching towards the vanity, my bare feet were silent on the thick tiles that lined the floor. The walls were coated in marble swirled with a deep, dark orange, and the counters the same in a lighter shade. Setting the tub down, I pulled the stopper up before my fingers hovered over the faucet knob. But what if Luciano finds out?

  A violent shudder prickled down my spine at the worrisome thought, and I sucked in air through my teeth. If he found out, Luciano would kill me; he didn’t seem like the kind of man to prolong death. Trevor deserved much worse than he got. There was no doubt in my mind I’d suffer the same fate.

  My heart beat wildly in my chest, my mind too busy tearing to regulate the muscle properly.


  “What do I do…?” In the silence my murmur was loud, and I winced as my eyes flew to the door. This is bad. Tears filled the thin space between my orb and my eyelids, and I ground my teeth together.

  Pacing the length of the wide bathroom, I squeezed my head between my palms as anger threatened to choke me. Never before had a decision torn me apart, and a harsh sound ripped from my throat. One half of my brain egged me on to preserve this little taste of happiness I had obtained. The other half threatened me with Luciano’s image- of the things that would happen to me if he found out. My gasps were ragged, struggling to get through my clogged throat as my chest heaved in great jerks. Crouching into a tight ball, my body rocked on the balls of my feet, and my brain pounded against my skull.

  A hard, sharp crash knocked me off balance, and a squeal breached my lips as I fell backwards. Frozen, my legs in the air and my hands on my face, I held my breath as the world spun. Staring through hazy eyes at the ceiling, I tried to stop my thoughts from tumbling and banging against my skull. Needle like pain punctured my brain, but even that fell to the wayside as more sound crept up on my awareness.

  Screams- they were shrill, blood curdling screams that weren’t muffled by even the thickest of walls. My pupils tightened at the high pitched, agonized noise, and my abdomen twisted painfully. The wails cascaded on each other, and I couldn’t tell where one stopped and another started. They were unlike any scream I had ever heard before, and my heart skipped a beat as they grew louder, higher, more intense.

  My sluggish limbs dragged to bring me to my hands and knees, and the shrieking made the thin, fine hairs on my back stand up. Leaving my food tub on the counter, forgotten, I scrambled for the nearest, light cherry stained cabinet. Inside the box were towels, and I reached with trembling fingers to push them around. Climbing into the small closet, I pulled a thick, white sheet over my head, but just like the walls around me it did nothing to block out the sound.

  “-ey, wake up.” Gruff, the call caused the aching in my head to flare to life, and a whimper wormed from my throat. The screaming… It had lasted too long, growing and morphing into gurgles and gags that kept me awake into the deepest, darkest part of the night. Tangling in my hair, my fingers shook as a large, warm palm enclosed them to tug.

  Cracking my eyes open, I flinched even though no light invaded my vision. Pulling me out of the cabinet, Luciano grunted absently before I caught his gaze. His head glimmered slightly in the dark, his eyes shining like freshly polished onyx.

  “Put this on.” Shoving fabric at me, Luciano let me go to stand, and for a moment I clutched it tightly. The fabric was soft, like everything else I had touched since coming here. Carefully my fingers inched along the seams and hems, searching for the bottom.

  All the while Luciano continued to stare, and I knew that even though I couldn’t see him through the darkness he could see me.

  “I- I heard…” The silence was deafening, and my crackling whisper shot through it like a rolling thunder. Pulling the shirt over my head, I hear only a low, deep hum before my head found its hole.

  “I know. That bitch got what she deserved for thinking she could fuck her way to the top. Keep quiet.” Grabbing my arm roughly, Luciano pulled me to my feet and dragged me out of the bathroom. My feet stumbled to keep up, and a gasp escaped me when I stepped on my own toes. Before he opened the door he paused, glancing back at me with unreadable, dark brown eyes.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  LUCIANO

  Shoving Aya into my car, I shut the door and rounded the front in silence. It was too late at night for insects to chirp, but still too early for birds to sing. Climbing into the driver’s seat, I sucked in a breath and pushed my key into the ignition. Her eyes were on me, wandering but never straying as they searched my face and trailed everywhere else. Putting the gear in drive, I jammed my boot on the gas pedal only to hear the tires squealing in response.

  A soft chink sounded inside the car once I made it past the front gates, and I glanced over at Aya. Her long legs were stuck together until the knee, with a foot pressed against the door and another against the floor. Tension created lines in her face as she stared out the windshield, and both her hands were wrapped firmly around her seat belt strap.

  Seeing her obvious nervousness brought a frown to my mouth, and I adjusted my grip on the steering wheel. Turning back to the road, my eyes narrowed on the short strip before me, illuminated only by yellow headlights.

  “I’m not going to shoot you out here. Someone would probably find you and that’s too much trouble.” Grumbling almost absently, I flexed my fingers against the leather wheel. “I don’t particularly want to kill you, anyway.”

  Once again those soggy, green gaze met my skin, and I huffed and irritated sigh. Aya was the only person aside from Georgio and Sylvi that would look me in the eye. Speeding down the deserted street, I scowled at nothing while my brain worked.

  I fucking hated women that think they’re good enough to challenge me. They bat their eyelashes and pucker their lips, posturing as if I gave two shits about their ambitions. Every time I accompanied Sylvi to one of his brothels I always left frustrated and hard.

  It was ironic that I refused to be some sluts conquest- to be bragged about to other whores as if it brings pride.

  But when Aya met my eye, I could feel her aloofness- that quiet passivity that had halted my trigger finger.

  “Where are we going, then?” Aya’s voice was husky, her tiredness still evident as it pulled me from my thoughts. Reaching into the pocket below the stereo, I pulled out my pack of cigarettes and tossed it to her.

  “Get me one.” Even though I concentrated on the road the sound of my lighter hitting the floor was loud in my ears. My leather seat creaked slightly as Aya bent to get it, and I glanced at the clock with a scowl. Pressing down on the gas pedal, my foot flexed in my boot and my heel dug into the plastic mat.

  Sylvi lived on the outskirts of the city, in a neighborhood of wealthy people that minded their own fucking business. It took nearly half an hour at speed limit to drive to down town, and my speedometer needle waved right to settle on neon green numbers nearly 40mph faster.

  The smell of cigarette smoke dampened some of my frustration, and I reached to roll down my window absently. In my peripheral vision Aya reached out, holding the cancer stick upright between her thumb, pointer, and middle finger. Glancing over, I grunted at the blank look on her face, watching for just a fraction of a second as the wind ruffled the ends of her cherry red hair.

  Taking a wide turn, I stepped off the gas to take my cigarette just as Aya leaned over. Her fingers trembled, causing the butt to shake as she held it in front of my face. She pinched where the top of the filter and the tobacco met, her other three fingers held up high to avoid being burned. Holding it between my lips, I took in a deep, noxious breath before jerking my chin.

  The smoke swirled in my lungs as Aya retreated, cigarette in hand. Letting out my heavy breath, I swiveled my jaw as it flew out the window.

  Pulling to a stop in an underground garage deep in the heart of the city, I put my car in park and pulled the emergency break. Swiping my palm over my jaw, my groan reverberated through the car. Tossing my head to the side, I stared at Aya’s pensive form for a few seconds until her eyes met mine. Her orbs were the color of a shadowed swamp, a dark green that shouldn’t have been a natural eye color. They were bright with tension and fear and the light coating of tears that never seemed to dry. Pursing my lips together, I reached over to grab her face. In the dark her bruises weren’t visible, but I wasn’t fooled; her left side was swollen.

  “Don’t talk to anyone. Don’t look at anyone. Don’t move from your spot. If you do any of those, I’ll leave you here- and you don’t want that. Understand?” Instantly Aya nodded, and I watched her for a second more before letting her go. Yanking open my door, I slid from my seat with a grunt. “Let’s go.”

  Aya scrambled across the center console to slip out my door, and I shoved my k
eys in my pocket once my car was locked. Grabbing her arm, I made my way on stiff legs towards the nearby stairwell door. After only two flights down the sounds of drunk cowards shouting reached my ears.

  It’s louder than usual.

  Pushing open the basement door with a harsh bang, my hand clenched into a fist against the metal. My fists itched to hit something that would crunch and bleed under them, and my throat clogged with a growl. The stench of beer, vomit, sweat, and blood hit me, and behind me Aya gagged audibly as she stumbled down the short hallway.

  Emerging in the main room, I held Aya’s arm tightly as the sounds and smells intensified. Slinking underneath the rickety, old bleachers that surrounded a makeshift boxing ring, I glanced around through narrowed eyes. Whores kept guests buying drinks and entertained as they waited for the fights to start. Ringside, there were new faces I could already picture bloodied and broken. My knuckles ached to connect with their jaws, and I took a deep, beer tainted breath.

  “Luciano! How good of you to join us!” Stomping up a flight of metal stairs, I glared at Johann as he lifted himself from his chair. “And you brought a lady friend!”

  His haggard, wrinkled face stretched into a grotesque smile, and I gnashed my teeth at him. My lips curled into a snarl, but Aya hid behind me without my prodding.

  “Fuck off, Johann.” The man was at least two decades older than Georgio, and a psychopath. His stringy, lean muscles bulged as he waved his arm in dismissal; he liked to show off his strength. I wasn’t sure he owned a single shirt with sleeves on it. Dropping back into his chair, Johann smiled to reveal broken and missing teeth from a lifetime of fighting.

  “Relax, my friend. I’m far too old to indulge in another man’s woman. So, what brings you to my modest club?” The steel platform was above everything, with the best view of the ring, and Johann didn’t need to speak overly loud. Pulling Aya in front of me, I sat her down next to the old man’s chair. Pulling her knees out, she crossed her legs and folded her hands in her lap before I offered a response to the hanging question.