by Haley Ladawn
“Then it better be one hell of a kiss.” Elliot’s hands settled on my waist, raising me higher to meet his opened mouth. Tugging him closer, I tangled my hands in his hair, but never losing hold of the gun. His lips enveloped me, causing a hot rush of pleasure to hit me from head to toe as I wrapped my legs around his torso.
When he finally pulled away, I wanted nothing more than to pull him back into my more than welcoming arms. I liked it when he was holding me, not that I couldn’t stand on my own.
“To be continued?” He licked his swollen lips, savoring what could be our last kiss.
“If we don’t die.” I gave him a dangerous smirk.
“If we don’t die,” he concluded, giving me an understanding nod. “Now I have something to live for, cara mia.”
"Sex?" I arched an inquisitive brow.
"No,” he answered distinctly, cocking his gun back. With his free hand, he caressed my warm cheek softly. "You."
I brushed my fingertips against his mouth one last time, memorizing the way our lips fit together perfectly, even if our personalities weren't the best match. He took my fingers into his mouth, biting down hard enough to make me wince, but soft enough to make me smile.
"Oh, and about the whole kissing and killing me thing," He gave me a deadly smirk, shaking his head. "The only way you're ever going to kill me is with kindness, fiorella."
Chapter 32: With or Without You
“What are you thinking about?” Elliot asked, taking another step into the grim darkness. I followed closely behind, holding onto the hem of his dress shirt. I had a death grip, causing my knuckles to turn white. If he hadn’t known that I was afraid of the dark before, he must have realized it by now.
“You,” I answered honestly, too frightened to make up a witty remark.
“Are you having dirty thoughts about me?” he inquired, his voice calm and relaxed, although it made me feel completely unsettled. Not in the way one might think, though. Even in my startled state, I could feel my cheeks warming with blush. “It’s okay, fiorella. I have plenty of dirty thoughts about you too. All of which involve you down on all fours, mouth opened, legs parted—”
“Okay,” I interrupted him before things could get any further. “I get that you’re trying to distract me, but let’s talk about something else.”
“Like what?” I could sense the smirk tugging at his lips, even though I couldn’t see it.
“Whatever you want to talk about, but you better make it good.” I narrowed my eyes at him. “These could be our last words, so you better not make them something stupid.”
He cocked his head to the side in consideration, seldom looking back at me with weary eyes. He was quiet for a long while as we canvased the area around us, opening doors that lead to empty rooms, walking down endless corridors, stopping dead in our tracks when we thought we heard something behind us, but there was never anything more than a rat or two on our trail.
“Mi dispiace.” His voice was as cold as the air around us, causing me to shiver to the core. He didn’t look back at me, denying me his smoldering gaze that somehow made me feel warm inside. “I’m sorry.”
If a leopard can’t change its spots, then why did he seem so different? Maybe there are two sides to everyone. A good side and a bad side. One that’s innocent and sweet, while the other side is corrupted and bitter.
“Mi dispiace,” I repeated what he said in Italian, butchering it completely. “I’m sorry too.”
“Saying you’re sorry for something that isn’t your fault is like pleading guilty to a crime you didn’t commit.” He turned his head to face mine. “Don’t ever say you’re sorry to me, fiorella.”
I couldn’t string any words together because I was too scared that I might say the wrong thing. I wasn’t afraid of him, per se, I was afraid of myself. I was frightened by what could come out of my mouth if I let it. If these were my last words, I didn’t want to regret them.
Before I could say my peace, Elliot walked away from me. By putting his back to me, he was giving me the cold shoulder, leaving me colder than he could ever possibly realize. I just wanted someone to talk to, someone to listen.
“This place is creepy and nasty,” I grunted irritably. “Why couldn’t he chose another place to keep us hostage?”
“What did you expect? The Four Seasons?” Elliot arched a dark eyebrow, looking almost comical. He even seemed humored by my discomfort. “This is a torture factory, not a resort, fiorella.”
“Obviously,” I muttered underneath my breath, dodging cobwebs left and right. As I moved around the filthy corridor, I thought I could hear a snake slithering behind me. “Why would anyone want to be down here?”
“That’s kind of the point, baby,” he replied with a hoarse laugh, but I was too distracted by the word baby to listen. That wasn’t one of his usual terms of endearment. In fact, I wasn’t sure if he’d ever called me that before. “No one wants to be down here.”
"I want to be down here," I contradicted myself, not caring if I sounded absolutely manic. Grabbing him by the bicep, I urged him to look back at me. "I want to be wherever you are... even if that means being in a terrible place. I just want to be with you... wherever that may be."
I took a breath, then added, "Besides... I don't think I have anywhere else to go."
“Is that the only reason you want to be with me?” He arched an eyebrow, catching me off guard.
“What do you mean?” I cleared my throat, waiting for an answer, an explanation.
“Exactly what I said.” He broke my eye contact, shrugging in my direction. “Is that the only reason you want to be with me?”
“Maybe?” I bit my lip, looking at the ground apprehensively. “Maybe not?”
He took a step closer to me, pushing me flush against the cold wall. A shiver ran down my back at the sudden contact, making me flinch. His body heat warmed me up slowly, causing me to push closer to his chest.
My breathing was labored as his lips skimmed my skin, grazing my earlobe with his sharp teeth. I closed my eyes for the faintest moment, getting lost in the pleasing sensations he was sending all through my body.
“Actions speak louder than words.” He ran his palm down my torso, stopping right above my hipbone. I could feel my body jolt awake with awareness as his fingertips caressed my smooth, fragile skin. “And I’m going to show you some action, gattina.”
“When?” I asked, breathing heavily.
“Right now.” He leaned in, kissing the sides of my mouth. I waited for him to part my lips with his tongue, but he didn’t bother with that. He merely brushed his soft lips against my own. A kiss that didn’t scream desire, a kiss that only screamed you’re not alone. And that was enough for me. “Come on, fiorella.”
And I did. I decided in that moment that I would follow him. Somewhere. Anywhere. Everywhere.
The first place I ever followed Elliot Lorenzo Valentino-Tieri Santoro was to his car and now I was following him to the edge of the world. A place where we could both live or die.
We’d reached the first level of hell, also known as the first floor of the secluded factory Emmet was holding us captive in. The first few rooms had been empty and abandoned, no sign of distress to follow. As we stepped further into the decrepit building, dark corridors intertwined all around us, reminding me of a haunted corn maze.
It took us forever to find a sign of life, but when we did, it came with a bang, literally. A gun went off in front of us, maybe two or three rooms ahead.
Elliot’s posture stiffened as he took a step forward, drawing his gun back. His footsteps were so light and precise, never taking more than he needed to. I followed closely behind him, trying to be as quiet as he was.
As we got closer to the room where the shots came from, I mentally prepared myself for what I would see on the other side of that door. Everything from dead bodies to hostages flashed through my mind in a series of violent images.
However, the last thing I expected to see when we walked th
rough that door, was Emmet giving Connor a piggyback ride. It took me way too long to realize that Connor was holding him in a suffocating headlock, not just horsing around aimlessly.
It was like watching two boys wrestle, but these two men were fighting to the death. Tapping out wasn’t an option here. You could either knock your opponent out or kill them. Connor was going for blood.
“Shouldn’t we do something?” I whispered to Elliot who regarded Connor and Emmet with watchful eyes. There wasn’t a single drop of fear etched on his face, but there was a shed of uncertainty.
Elisa was right.
Elliot wasn’t going to kill his brother. He wouldn’t. He couldn’t. He would’ve rather had his brother kill him then the other way around. Family could betray you, but Elliot wasn’t going to betray his.
“Elliot?” I said again when he didn’t reply the first time. He was inside his troubled head, thinking about something he couldn’t put to words. “Shouldn’t we do something?”
“We’re not referees, fiorella,” he replied through clenched teeth, studying the men from afar. His voice was cold and distant, different from the flirtatious man he’d been moments ago. “We have to let them handle this on their own.”
“What if they kill each other?” My voice was a hopeless whisper, barely clawing its way out of my dry throat. “What if one of them dies?”
“Then so be it, gattina.” He shrugged absentmindedly, his lips lifting into the faintest smirk ever. “I don’t see Everet or Gabriel.”
Elliot’s eyes skirted the area cautiously, his posture growing tenser. The wry grin on his soft lips dissipated quickly, having been replaced by a more somber expression. “Something’s very wrong with this picture.”
“Obviously,” I muttered underneath my breath, feeling a shiver roll through my body.
He grunted as a muscle in his jaw twitched. “Be quiet now or I’ll make you be quiet.”
“And how are you going to do that exactly?” I stared straight into his haunting eyes, never looking away. I could see myself staring back at me, not literally, but figuratively. The two of us were more alike than I ever anticipated. We were both betrayed by our own families, defeated by our own demons, and lost in our own minds.
Before I could rebel against him anymore, he grabbed me by my jaw, bringing me flush against his solid chest. Now wasn’t the time or place to get frisky, but I’ll admit the riskiness of it all had a certain appeal to it. Maybe I was an exhibitionist after all.
I licked my lips as his left hand tightened around my throat, applying the faintest of pressure, while he brushed the cold gun along my jawline.
He ran the barrel of the gun along my mouth, stopping only to kiss me with his own lips. I savored the kiss, memorizing the way bit down on my bottom lip, tugging it in between his teeth. This time, though, he didn’t stop until he drew blood.
“Ow!” I pulled away instantly, seeing his lips lift into a dangerous smile. I could tell that he was holding back laughter. “What the fuck?”
“It’s just a love bite, cara mia.” He winked, causing my cheeks to blush. He caressed the apples of my cheeks with his thumb and forefinger. He brushed his scruffy jaw against my own, whispering sweet nothings into my ear.
“I take it you’ll be quiet now, yes?” He mused with a glint in his eyes. I nodded apprehensively. “Very good, fiorella.”
He was commanding me like I was a dog, but I didn’t argue with him this time. It was clear that he wanted me to shut my mouth.
“You should probably turn around,” he whispered quietly, but it came out as a strict command. He wasn’t suggesting that I turn around, he was ordering it.
He didn’t say another word to me. Instead, he cocked his gun back, aiming it directly at Connor’s shoulder blades. Before I could interject, he fired the gun twice, one bullet in each of his shoulders. The bullets pierced through his flesh, spraying crimson blood on the opposite wall. It took me a moment to realize the bullets had torn through Emmet’s flesh as well, leaving both men handicapped on the ground.
“Think I just killed two birds with one stone,” he said, somehow amused. “All in a good day’s work too.”
I stood there, completely astonished, shocked into silence. This was the second time I’d seen Elliot fire a gun like it was nothing. He didn’t hesitate, not even for a millisecond.
“F-f-fuck!” Connor tried to say, but his words were lost quickly. He took a heavy breath before continuing, his face contorted in pain.
Emmet, on the other hand, hadn’t shown a single sign of discomfort. He just sat on the ground, his legs crisscrossed. I thought I even saw him wink at me, although that could’ve just been my imagination.
Although, something told me that he wasn’t an amateur when it came to facing torment. He was a professional, much like his brother was.
“Fool me once, shame on you.” Elliot gave them an unnerving smile, kneeling on one knee to get closer to them. “Fool me twice, I’ll fucking kill you.”
“When you said, you were going to show me some action,” I interjected with a slight frown. “Is this what you meant?”
“Sì.” He gave me an unapologetic look, his features hardening. “I would say I’m sorry, but I’m not.”
He aimed the gun at the wall in between Connor and Emmet, the barrel of the gun teetering between the two of them. His hand was shaky, but I knew he had a clear shot on them both.
“This is my father’s fault for not raising his children right.” He spat angrily, rolling up the sleeves of his dress shirt.
“Actually,” Emmet cut in. “I think I was raised perfectly. Granted our father was selfish prick who only cared about himself, and our mother was murdered before we ever really got to know her. All things considered, I think are childhood was incredible. Wouldn’t you agree, brother?”
“No, can’t say that I do, traditore.”
It wasn’t Elliot who replied to his question. It was Everet.
He stepped in from a side door, holding a silver gun in his right hand, aiming it at the two men cautiously. His gun skirted Elliot and I, but it was only as a safety measure, making sure no one else was in the crowded room.
“Sorry that I’m late to the party,” Everet said with a half shrug. “I was looking for his, uh, wench.”
“Better late than never,” I mumbled underneath my breath, trying to lighten the grim mood.
“Thanks for the warm welcome, rosso.” He cracked a sarcastic smile, winking at me sheepishly.
Elliot stood up carefully, keeping his gun trained on the two men. I had my own weapon pulled out, but my hands were shaking terribly. I was capable of a lot of things, but I wasn’t sure killing someone was on that list.
“Did you find her—?”
A stray bullet tore through the tenebrous atmosphere, gliding in between the three of us. It flew right past me, barely grazing my skin. Elliot wasn’t as lucky as me, though. I saw the silver bullet ripple through his dress shirt, leaving the white fabric drenched in crimson blood. Before I could do anything, Everet dropped to the ground, clenching his chest tightly. It took me a second to realize the bullet hadn’t been lodged in Elliot’s abdomen. It was touch-and-go, hitting Elliot first, then finding its way to Everet.
“I think I’m the one killing two birds with one stone.” Margo appeared in the opposite doorway, holding Gabriel in her grasp. He was out cold, slumped against her shoulders. Cuts decorated his face, just like the ones that were going to scar Elisa. “And I’m about to kill two more.”
She raised her gun at me quickly, not giving me enough time to react. I took a breath and closed my eyes as I pulled the trigger of my own gun, hoping it was aligned where it needed to be. I didn’t want to shoot Gabriel. Hell, I wasn’t even sure if I wanted to shoot her. I wasn’t a killer, but maybe that was about to change.
A scream pierced my ears just as a bullet pierced my abdomen, causing my hands to cover the fresh, bloody wound. I winced for what felt like forever, before I could find th
e strength to open my eyes.
Everything hurt, just like before, but it didn’t affect me like it should have. I was still standing with shaky knees, instead of collapsing on the floor, like everyone around me.
Margo was on the floor, holding her neck, gasping for what air she’d never receive. I expected to feel bad, but I only felt numb. Emmet’s expression matched my own. He didn’t care that his girlfriend was dying on the floor next to him. Connor was passed out beside him, probably from all the blood loss. He didn’t even get to see the safe return of the man he claimed to love.
Everet was struggling to breathe in the corner, but he had a phone in his bloody hand, talking to someone on the other end. I wondered if he called for help, or if he was using his last moments to talk to Elisa. I prayed for the latter. I prayed for everyone, even though I didn’t know who I was praying to.
I turned my head to face Elliot who was holding the spot where his heart should’ve been, giving me the faintest smile he could muster through all the pain he must’ve been feeling.
“We have matching wounds, fiorella,” he said as blood collected near his slanted mouth. “At least we have something in common now.”
I laughed at the irony, unable to stop myself. My laugh turned into a pained cough, but I didn’t stop, not until my body wouldn’t let me laugh anymore—until my body wouldn’t let me be happy anymore.
“If we have nothing… at least we have that.” I sank onto the floor beside him, letting our shoulders brush against each other. The faint warmth of his body, made me feel as content as anyone could be in this situation. “You know, it’s not as bad as I thought it would be.”
“What?” He turned his head to the side, really looking at me. His blue eyes no longer had that coldness to them, they were glossed over and warm, like a sunny afternoon in late August. “Getting shot?”
“No.” I shook my head, measuring my breaths carefully, knowing that each one I took could be my last. “Dying.”
He looked at me peculiarly, furrowing his dark brows, before nodding slowly. The hardness of his expression quickly softened as he leaned into me, being careful to not put his weight on me.