by Rose Harper
TABLE OF CONTENTS
GIVE ME FREE BOOKS
COPYRIGHT
SYNOPSIS
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
THANK YOU
PLAYLIST
COMING SOON
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GIVE ME FREE BOOKS
COPYRIGHT
Copyright © 2018 by Rose Harper, All Rights Reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations within critical reviews and otherwise as permitted by copyright law.
NOTE: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination.
Any resemblance to real life is purely coincidental. All characters in this story are 18 or older.
Copyright © 2018, Rose Harper Publishing. All rights reserved. www.authorroseharper.wixsite.com/books/
Edited by Mitzi Pummer Carroll
Mitzi Carroll: Editor
Proofread by Marisa Nichols
Marisa Nichols: Proofreader
Cover Art by Jay Aheer at Simply Defined Art
Simply Defined Art
SYNOPSIS
One bullet … one shallow grave …One. Final. Goodbye.
Skylah took something from Gavino he will never get back.
An innocence so few can claim.
Not knowing what happened,
She pokes the bear when he’s feeling all growly.
Pushes his buttons until she can’t push anymore.
The captive has now become the captor,
Demanding answers to the mysteries Gavino keeps locked up tight.
But, what is little Sky going to think when the tables turn,
And she’s the one holding secrets she didn’t even know exist?
Gavino won’t poke.
He won’t plead and beg.
He. Will. Devour.
He. Will. Scar.
He. Will. Fight.
He will allow his hatred to fuel their fire,
When the only thing she can do is transform and relish the lick of his flame.
All he needs is one bullet, one shallow grave, and one. Final. Goodbye.
But something keeps stopping him from pulling the trigger.
And that something ...
Is her.
Scars and Silk:2
The Calvetti Crime Family
1
ONE MONTH …
2
TWO MONTHS …
3
THREE MONTHS …
4
GAVINO
“Please, just talk to me. I’ll do anything, I swear …” Her delicate voice crackles through the speaker.
It’s been the same for the past three months. Her pleading for communication and freedom, while I continue to deny her requests.
Yes, the man aggressively threatening her life still looms over her head, but over the past month, she’s changed. Her fire now barely simmers inside of her. She’s slowly but surely turning into a shell of herself, which is exactly what I wanted to happen. I want her so desolate—so lonely—that she will look for interaction from anywhere. Even if it’s from the man keeping her locked up in a room she thinks is a cellar.
Not happening. Not by a long shot. I want her to suffer from this silence. Guessing when the ax will drop on her neck. The thought of her stewing in nothing but agonizing silence causes the devious part of me to laugh in sadistic glee.
“Please, please, please,” she whimpers, curling in on herself.
Just like every night, I sit in front of the CCTV screens. Watching. Waiting. Instead of being out there, killing and maiming, I’m stuck here playing babysitter to this princess.
It’s maddening.
Frustrating.
But, being here and watching this makes up for it tenfold. Just hearing the pain in her voice and the torment in her eyes when they unknowingly connect with the camera makes me feel like I’m able to breathe for the first time in years. It’s pacifying a part of me that’s run rampant for far too long.
A piece of myself that should never be allowed to play with others, yet thirsts for the chance to do just that.
Sipping from my beer, I continue to watch, listen, and enjoy, when my phone vibrates on the surface of the table. Glancing over, I catch Mateo’s name flashing across the screen, which causes my brows to furrow in confusion. He never calls me when I’m out on these trips, knowing that I will contact him when all is said and done. He doesn’t know about my life in the Brotherhood—at least, not the logistics of it—but he does know that it’s important when I leave, and he wouldn’t fuck with that unless it was important.
Suddenly, my stomach drops when I think of what could be wrong. Something has to be for him to communicate with me now.
Snatching my phone, I slide my finger across the screen, staying silent just in case someone has managed to tap my phone line. I know this goes against everything that was engrained in my mind when I was growing up, but I can’t allow his call to go to voice mail, even if I can’t speak.
“You need to get home now!” No pleasantries. Nothing. Only pure unadulterated fear sizzles through the line. “It’s Carina! Hurry!”
For the first time in my life, fear blazes through me. Every nerve ending in my body freezes, my mouth falling open at the level of emotion Mateo is barking through the phone.
“S-Something happened! That’s all I can say. You need to get here now!” he yells, causing me to jump to my feet before his voice lowers, pain reverberating in my eardrums. “Please … brother.” The phone call ends with a click, and I’m already out the door taking the stairs two at a time.
My finger slides through my contacts, and I’m pushing his number before I even grab my keys and exit the house. Valentino answers on the first ring. “I just heard. I’m on my way; we’re sending someone over to the house. Gavino, get there … now!”
Fear coats me like a gloomy winter day as I race toward my car. I try to unlock my door when I get there, but nothing happens. No beeping. Not one sound of the doors unlocking. Jerking the handle, I nearly rip it off its hinges, but it still doesn’t give. My mind races as I try to figure out a way, then realize that I’m just down the street from them.
Without another thought, I open the garage, taking off at a dead run. Racing through people’s front yards, I’m halfway down the street before the breath comes rushing back to me. Gasping, I jump over hedges, sidestep riding toys, and slide over the trunks of cars.
There’s no time to spare. I need to get there.
A smatteringof rain falls down all around me, wetting me to the bone by the time Mateo’s home comes into view. When I see the cars lining the driveway and service vehicles there, horror washes over me. It feels like a punch to the stomach when I see Mateo pacing in front of the ambulance, han
ds wringing his hair as he barely refrains from falling apart.
“Mateo!” I bellow, gathering his attention as I race the rest of the way.
He looks up in confusion. His steps falter, hands fall down by his sides. I’m about twenty yards away, closing in fast when I see the tears building in his eyes. I feel my heart cracking wide open, which is an emotion I haven’t felt in many years. He looks so lost, so hurt.
“She … she,” he stammers, chin quivering. My breath pumps in and out of me when I see him sway on his feet. Pushing myself harder, I slam into him just as his knees go out. Catching him, I take us both to the ground as his hands clench my jacket tightly.
Mateo does something I’ve never seen from him before. He sobs. His entire body shakes from the onslaught of tears.
“There’s so much blood,” he gasps, breaking down even more.
Pulling away from him, I gaze into his eyes. Eyes that are usually just as guarded and soulless as mine but are now blazing with intensive agony; it causes the breath to catch in my throat. Hearing commotion at the door, I jerk Mateo toward me and peer in their direction. Something hot treks its way down my cheek. It’s camouflaged by the rain pattering down around us, but I know what it is. It’s the first tear I’ve allowed to leave my body since the day my mother was brutally murdered.
The entire world around me stops as I watch first one paramedic, then another, leave the residence, sadness coating their features as they make their way toward us, shoulders hunched to fend off the rain. Gathering Mateo into my arms tighter, I climb to my feet and heft him up along with me. I can practically feel his heart breaking right in front of me and wish to God I knew what was happening.
So much can happen when blood is involved, even more so when you’re a part of this familia. To live in this life, you have to be ready for anything set in front of you. You need to roll with the punches and deal a few of your own. It’s the only way you will make it, never allowing the darkness to taint your soul.
“Mr. Calvetti,” one of the paramedics says, coming to a stop. “I’m so sorry, sir. But we tried everything we could.”
“No.” Mateo starts shaking in my arms. “No!” Holding him to me, the strongest man I’ve ever known breaks down in my arms as if I’m the father consoling his child. He seems so small, fragile.
Staring daggers at them, both wrench back from the menace swirling in my eyes. I know it isn’t their fault, for God only knows what happened, but they are the bearer of bad news and they better finish it before I finish them.
“What is all of this goddamn shit about? Huh?” I roar, my anger quickly rising to the surface. “What. Fucking. Happened?!”
“Are you a member of the family?” The skinnier one asks, growing a set of balls in a time where they’ll get cut the fuck off.
“This is my brother,” I fume, taking a step with him. “There is a gun in my jacket, so if you don’t tell me what the fuck happened, I can assure you there are two bullets with your fucking names on it.”
“I-I’m sorry, Mr. Calvetti,” he exclaims, backing down like a little bitch. “Mrs. Calvetti, she … she—”
“Spit it out!” I yell, garnering the attention of all the people gathering on the lawn.
“She lost the baby,” he hurriedly says, stepping back when he notices my face growing redder by the second. “Sorry for your—”
“Don’t finish that goddamn sentence,” I seethe, then yell up toward the house, “Giovanni! Get the fuck out here!”
Within seconds, I’ve passed Mateo to our younger brother, and I’m making my way into the house. Deathly silence envelopes me when I step over the threshold. A place that has been nothing but catastrophic to our familia in such a short amount of time. And now, it’s taken a baby as collateral as well.
Making my way up the stairs, the knot in my throat continues to grow the closer I come to the top of the stairs. Hearing her soft, gut-wrenching cries are nearly my undoing. There are too many stimulants in this house. Too many that it’s hard for me to correctly decipher one from the next. I’m too busy trying to force my body to shut down so I don’t have to feel the echoing of their emotions into the very inner parts of my broken soul.
It doesn’t do well for the devil to feel, because things can go so wrong. A devil feeling after so long of nothing is one that will wreak havoc on everything around him.
Slowing to a stop, I hear Domino just inside the door, consoling Carina as she wails for the loss of a child she didn’t get to meet. But what she says next has the blood draining from my face.
“Don’t tell Gavino, please,” she cries. “Promise me.”
“He will find out sooner or later, kitty.”
Hiccupping on a sob, she replies, pain and anguish evident in her broken voice. “It will destroy what little good is left inside of him. You—You have to promise me.”
“We keep nothing from each other,” he sighs, and I hear the bed shifting under his weight.
More than likely, he has some shitty movie turned on, trying to take her mind off what just happened. It’s that good thing about him, he will give his all—even his coveted soul—just to bring a smile to that woman’s face. But, what I want to know right now is why it would destroy me to find out what happened.
Plastering myself to the wall, I stand in wait. Thankfully, I don’t have to wait long. Only, what comes from her mind has my legs giving out on me as I slide down the wall to the floor. I stare blankly at the wall in front of me, seeing nothing as her words play on repeat inside my mind.
“You cannot tell him this was a message for him. He needs to believe this was a natural occurrence. If he finds out the man that came to the door was asking for him, then took out his rage on me, he will never forgive himself. So, promise me.”
Dom sighs into the silence of the room, while my heart breaks, repairs itself, and breaks over and over again. “I promise.”
And I promise, kitty, that I will get revenge for you. Even if I have to do it breathing my dying breath.
She was right. The news that this was my fault did destroy me. But maybe that’s what I needed. I need to be demolished so I can focus on what is important, instead of concentrating on the things I want.
Right now? I have a feeling I know who it was, and I know who holds the key. She thought I was bad before with three months of silence? It will have nothing on what I’m going to do when I return home.
She. Will. Pay.
Because that little bitch brought this to my goddamn doorstep, and no bad deed goes unpunished.
5
SKYLAH
The only time I turn my hearing aid on is when I call out for Gavino. Any other time, it’s turned off and under the pillow haphazardly tossed in the corner of my bed. I didn’t want to be without it and considering I didn’t know how long I was going to be in here, I knew I needed to conserve its energy.
Good thing, too. I’ve been in here countless days. The only reason I know the turn of each day is because I wake up to the smell of breakfast being pushed through a slot at the bottom of the door, then again for lunch and dinner. If my calculations are correct, it’s now March, just when the birds start chirping in the sky, and everything is thawing out from a long, cold winter.
It’s still too cold to go around without a jacket, but not enough that you would freeze if you decided to venture out. I wish I were able to feel the crisp, refreshing air brush across my sensitive flesh as the sun warms me from the outside in. Wish I have something other than the dull lighting and stagnant air of this cool room.
At least Gavino made sure all my necessities were met. Glancing over at the attached bathroom, my body yearns for a bath, instead of the glass shower residing within its four walls. The opportunity to soak in a warm, sudsy bath almost has me breaking.
He was supposed to protect me—and, in a way, I guess he has. I’m still living and breathing.
But, am I, really? There’s oxygen going in and out of my lungs. I open my eyes every morning after a n
ight of restless sleep on a too comfortable bed. I’m still breathing. However, can you call that truly living? In a world where everything is as it should be, probably not. But in my world, it’s my new reality that I must grow accustomed to, even if it’s hard.
Sighing, I pull back the satin sheets draping my body. Making my way toward the bathroom, my feet sink into the dirt floor. There’s really no use in cleaning myself since I’ve housed in such deplorable conditions. But at least I’ll feel better about myself—not as dirty, used, and forgotten.
Making my way to the shower, I scoff at the thought of putting such expensive amenities in such a rank place. It’s legitimately a cellar, with the furnishings of a five-star hotel. A complete contradiction if I’ve ever seen one. But who am I to complain? There’s hot water and soap, and it washes the grime from my body.
Turning on the water, I make my way toward the sink. Quickly picking up the dollar store toothbrush, I do my business then make my way toward the shower. Once I step beneath the warm, soothing spray, I already feel a thousand times better. It’s the same every day. It feels as if I’m washing my sins away.
After washing my hair, body, and cleansing my mind, I go to turn off the water, only to scream in terror as my body is forcefully pushed up against the glass. My heavy breasts are trapped between the glass, and my body as the person behind me presses themselves fully against me. Tears build in my eyes as nothing, but complete silence greets my ears as I feel their wandering hands roaming over my thigh, hip, and rib cage.
Their hot breath coats the side of my neck as I stare into the expanse of my bedroom. Biting my lip to keep from making a sound, it’s then I catch the door to my room standing open … opening right into a hallway.