“Are you going to stab me for saving your life, bella?” I asked as I closed in on her.
She held the knife like she knew what she was doing with it and the steely look in her eye said she just might use it.
I spread my arms before me as I drew closer still.
“If you’re going to do it then aim for my heart,” I said seriously. “Because you won’t get more than one swing at me before I’m on you.”
Her gaze slid from my eyes to my chest and her bottom lip quivered just a little. It looked like someone had taught her how to defend herself, but I was willing to bet she’d never sunk a blade into anyone before.
“You’ll need to throw your strength into the blow,” I told her. “There’s a lot of flesh and bone to get through if you want me dead in one strike.”
She sucked in a breath as I made it within a few paces of her.
I eyed the blade in her grip which was already stained with my blood. It was steady. She wouldn’t miss if she chose to strike at me.
I widened my hands and stepped close enough for her to do it. I didn’t make any move to defend myself and she held her breath as her gaze locked with mine.
“What’s it to be, bella?” I asked darkly.
The moment hung between us endlessly as her eyes stared into mine and a dark energy coiled between us. It was like I was being pulled towards her and warned away in the same breath and the uncertainty of it froze me entirely.
Sloan released a heavy breath and the blade fell from her hand.
It hit the floor with a clatter and I raised an eyebrow at her as she lifted her chin.
“Tell me I’m right to think I got here before he managed to do anything to you,” I breathed.
Sloan wet her lips with her tongue and the movement drew my gaze to her mouth as I stepped closer again.
“You did,” she confirmed and relief spilled through me, easing the tension in my muscles. “He stabbed you,” she added, reaching out to catch the hem of my shirt and push it up so that she could get a look at what he’d done.
The cut along my ribs stung but wasn’t deep. Frankie would stitch it for me if it needed it, but I wasn’t sure it would.
Her fingers were cold against my skin as she slid the material higher. It was wet with blood. His, mine, maybe even some of hers.
I stayed still as she inspected me, her touch lingering on my flesh like she knew she shouldn’t be doing this. Like she knew she shouldn’t care. But for the strangest reason, it seemed like she did.
I flinched minutely as she found the cut along my ribs and she looked up at me in surprise.
“Does it hurt?” she asked, her voice breathy like the idea of that was getting her off.
“Do you like that I’m bleeding for you?” I asked her, watching as her pupils dilated at that suggestion. “Does my pain please you?”
She inched her fingers up again, pressing down on the wound just enough to raise a grunt of discomfort from me and heat flared in her eyes.
“You’re a fucked up little thing, just like me,” I breathed, reaching out to her unbuttoned fly and dipping my fingers between the parted zipper.
Her breath hitched as my fingers slid across her panties for a moment and I slowly caught the zipper in my hand, drawing it back up again as the hint of a moan slid between her lips.
The door unlocked above us and I slowly buttoned her jeans for her, my fingers lingering beneath her waistband for a long moment as footsteps sounded on the stairs behind us.
I withdrew my hand and a shiver danced across her flesh. I dropped down to one knee before her and retrieved the blade as her gaze stayed fixed on me.
Frankie made it to the bottom of the stairs with a clean shirt, sweatpants and a thick sweater for her which she accepted with a word of thanks.
I turned and walked away from her as Frankie started gathering lumps of the broken wine rack into a black sack.
I didn’t look back as I made it up the stairs and headed out into the main house. Enzo was lingering in the hall and he caught my eye as I approached.
“If she doesn’t fall in love with you after that, then she never will,” he joked and I forced a smirk onto my face.
“All part of the plan,” I replied as I headed past him so that I could go and wash the blood from my flesh.
I frowned to myself as I headed up the stairs, because the strangest thing was, that that had been a lie.
None of them had noticed, not even Rocco.
I had Guido’s phone stashed in the back of my jeans. It had fallen from his pocket when Rocco had tackled him to the ground. I’d grabbed it before anyone could notice, but now I was frozen in place, still reeling from what had happened.
I could still feel Rocco’s hands on me, his heated touch having wiped away the chilled touch of his cousin. Where my flesh had screamed, now it purred. Like it wanted more of Rocco’s skin against it. But that was so wrong. So twisted. And I started to wonder if he’d been right. Maybe I was as fucked up as he was.
Something about Rocco unleashed the crazy in me. A secret girl who’d been living in my flesh all these years, yearning to be freed. But family customs and my father’s firm hand had kept her down. Even in Italy I hadn’t felt this wild. For a second I’d shared a taste of the animalistic spirit within him and I was gasping for more.
I shook my head, taking out the phone, unable to believe I’d hesitated so long in using it. The only number I knew by heart was home so I called my family’s house. My father. The mere thought of hearing his voice sent a mixture of emotions rushing through me. He’d be out for blood. He’d have mobilised all of our family in looking for me. How would he react when he heard me now?
My heart drummed and my mouth dried up. I’d give him everything I had to help him find me, but something in my gut was terrified of that too. Of this house coming under attack without the Romero brothers having any warning. A whole army of Calabresis would come. They’d tear them apart with bullets. Why does that make me feel like I wanna hurl??
Before I could do anything batshit crazy like hang up, a click sounded on the other end. “Calabresi household.”
I inhaled sharply. It wasn’t my father.
“Nicoli?” I gasped, whispering even though I doubted anyone could hear me upstairs. Adrenaline washed through my veins and brought its friend panic along for the ride. I can get out of here!
“Sloan?” he demanded, his voice a razor slicing against my ear. “Tell me it’s you.”
“It’s me.” The line went fuzzy and I didn’t hear his next words.
“Sloan?” his voice came through the static again, demanding, desperate. I frantically checked the signal, finding it low.
“Can you hear me now?” I asked hopefully, my heart ticking like a time bomb in my ears. “I need you to come find me.”
“Where are y-” static engulfed his voice again and anxiety spiked through my chest.
I started garbling off everything I knew about the household, figuring he’d at least hear some of it. I told him about the snow, the mountains, the way the manor looked. I didn’t know how much he caught but he said the odd word from time to time (yes, dammit, fuckers).
“I’m coming for you. You’re mine, Sloan, no one can keep you from me,” he said fiercely, passionately. My heart clenched like it was in an iron fist as I struggled for what to say. The craziest thing was, my gut reaction was to scream, I’m not yours!
I shoved that thought away, but another crazy one took its place. Come find me, but please don’t kill the Romeros.
But how could I even think that? Why did I care? I should have wanted them ripped apart for bringing me here. Rocco most of all.
The cellar door opened and fear blazed through me. With fast fingers, I deleted the call history, locked the phone and tossed it away from me. It skidded under a wine rack and I tried to calm my thrashing heart as Rocco appeared a second later. If he figured out I’d had that phone, that I’d called Nicoli, he’d either move me or bring a hundred men to the ho
use to face the Calabresis. Maybe both. And I couldn’t let either of those things happen.
I frowned at the bundle of blankets in Rocco’s arms, my heart softening like heated wax with every step he took closer. He knelt down, placing them at my feet with a hot water bottle on top of them. There was a thick pair of socks and one of his sweaters too.
“You have to stay here for now,” he said, looking like he wasn’t happy about that fact.
Does he actually give a damn that I’m down here?
I surveyed his expression, hunting for the joke. Waiting for him to grab the bundle and laugh while walking away.
“Where’s my fucking phone?!” Guido’s voice shook the floorboards upstairs and my blood chilled.
Rocco locked eyes with me and I gasped as he lunged forward, patting me down as he hunted for it. His hand slipped between my thighs and I smacked him across the face.
“I don’t have it!” I snarled.
His eyes narrowed with disbelief and he took out his own phone, making a call and glaring at me the entire time as he sat back on his heels.
A jingling ringtone sounded from underneath the wine rack and I swallowed firmly as he moved over to it and fished it out. He tapped the screen, no doubt checking the call history before his eyes slid to me in suspicion. He ran his tongue over his teeth then stuffed the phone in his pocket.
“I’ve got it!” Rocco called upstairs and I wet my desert dry mouth as he moved to kneel before me once more.
I reached for the hot water bottle so I had something to occupy myself with, finding it deliciously warm.
He lifted a hand and I flinched on instinct, my guard up after my encounter with his despicable cousin. I knew what Rocco had done for me, but I was also reminded of exactly why I hated the Romeros. Guido had killed members of my family. Rocco had too. There wasn’t just a line drawn in the sand between us, there was a chasm of sharp objects stained with our people’s blood.
He retracted his hand and I wondered why he’d been planning on touching me at all. He released a long breath as discomfort coloured his features.
“I’m gonna sleep outside the door so no one can come down here without my permission,” he said at last.
“Why?” I breathed and silence stretched between us.
Rocco grunted. “I don’t care for rapists. And I certainly don’t care for people laying a hand on things that belong to me.”
“I’m not yours,” I hissed, my spine prickling at his words, especially as I’d just heard them from Nicoli two minutes ago.
“I caught and caged you,” he said with a smirk that was almost teasing. “You’re mine fair and square.”
“I’m not some wild horse you wrangled,” I said in disgust. “You can’t own people.”
“Not true. To own a horse, I’d have to earn its trust. To own you, I’d have to earn your heart.” His eyes blazed and heat seeped through my skin at the intensity of his gaze.
I leaned toward him, so close we were almost nose to nose. His eyes dipped to my mouth and I knew what he wanted, what he’d taken twice now and hadn’t deserved.
“I’d cut it out first,” I whispered, my lips twisting up at the corners in a dark smile.
“You don’t have to hand it to me fresh and bloody, principessa, but thanks for the offer.”
I tutted, leaning back but he caught hold of my top, dragging me close again as he fisted his hand in it.
“How long are you going to keep lying to yourself about how I make you feel?”
“I don’t need to lie to myself, Rocco. I know exactly how you make me feel. You make my skin crawl and my blood curdle.” My heart betrayed me, pounding so fast I feared he’d hear it drumming out my secrets in Morse code.
My mamma had always told me not to trust boys with pretty faces and carnivorous smiles. And Rocco was a beautiful apex predator. He could have any woman in the world and maybe it was starting to bother him that I didn’t fall under the same spell. Maybe he was trying to prove something to himself. But if he really thought he could win the heart of a girl he’d kidnapped, he must have been even more of a cocky asshole than I’d realised. Which seemed like a stretch as his ego was already bigger than this house.
I’d never let him have me. But that wild girl inside me had her own desires. Her own wicked secrets.
She’d let him have her and she’d claim him right back in the process.
I blinked firmly, realising I hadn’t done so for a long time. Rocco was smiling like he’d heard every one of my thoughts and I cleared my throat, pulling the blankets up around me and stuffing the hot water bottle beneath them.
“I don’t believe you,” he said in a purr. “You moan about my cock in your sleep.”
“I do not,” I replied, my upper lip peeling back. “And if I did it would be about ripping it off.”
“I don’t think so. You’ve tried to give me sleep blowjobs on more than one occasion. I let you suck my thumb once.”
I tutted as he laughed. “You’re an animal.”
I waited for him to leave, but he didn’t. He moved onto all fours, prowling forward like a lion and resting his hands either side of me on the wall. He gnashed his teeth together in my face, making me flinch as the snap filled my ears. His breath was hot on my skin and the smell of him surrounded me, bathing me in the scent of pine and deadly temptation.
“I can be an animal if that’s what you want me to be.” He snorted like a pig and a surprised laugh escaped me as I tipped my head back to create some distance between us.
He leaned away with a satisfied grin and tapped me on the nose. “Get some sleep.”
“Go take your crazy pills,” I shot back, battling to erase the smile from my lips.
“Crazy is just another word for interesting,” he said lightly. “How boring the world would be if I knew I wasn’t going to put on a tutu tomorrow and take up ballet.”
“Is that your plan? Because I’m not sure they make tutus in bear sizes,” I said dryly.
“That’s your problem, bella. Maybe I will, maybe I won’t. Plans are for normal people and I get the feeling you’re anything but normal. They just made you think you are.” He winked and headed up the stairs to exit the cellar.
I was left in the aftermath of his words, worrying about how much sense they made to me. The four walls of my mind had been built by my father’s hands, but what had he kept out?
I tried to remember a time before I’d felt caged and my mother’s face swam into my mind. I’d only been seven when she’d died, but every memory I had of her was precious. Before she’d taken her life, all I could remember was being happy. Having fun with her in the park, spending hours dancing and singing and playing make believe. She’d been my best friend. My only friend. And when she left me, the world became smaller.
Mamma hadn’t let me see the bars which surrounded us, she’d sheltered me from the truth; that we were just two birds in a cage, singing at a sunset painted on a wall.
Had she been unhappy all those years and never let me see it? Had my father done all he could do to make sure she was okay? Or had he baited and trapped her, cast her in irons until she couldn’t stand another moment on this earth? Even for my sake.
My soul ached with all the unanswered questions. I cherished every memory with her so deeply, but her death had tainted them. Because now I wondered whether each smile she gave me had been a beautiful lie. And whether I could have done more to soothe the pain which must have lived in her.
It was clear now that Papa had tried to force us into his idea of perfect. Quiet, subdued, compliant…
I wondered if Rocco’s father had ever tried to tame him and a quiet part of me hoped he hadn’t been moulded in any way. That this was his true, barbaric nature. And I envied that in a way I couldn’t even begin to understand.
I woke early with a crick in my neck and goosebumps lining my flesh from the breeze which made its way out from beneath the cellar door. Guido seemed to have learned his lesson at least. There had
n’t been a peep from him during the night and it didn’t seem like I’d really needed to sleep on the floor outside her door after all, but fuck it. I wasn’t going to take the risk.
Sloan might be our prisoner but I wasn’t going to hand her over to an animal like Guido to toy with.
I stood and stretched my aching limbs out as I retrieved the comforter I’d slept on from the floor and took it back into the living room.
I stirred the fire, adding extra logs and glanced at the clock. It was a quarter to six. No one else was up yet and they likely wouldn’t be for a few hours.
I headed into the kitchen and made two steaming mugs of coffee and stacked a plate with toast before depositing that in the living room too.
I pulled the cellar key from my pocket and moved to unlock it, releasing a low breath as the door swung open.
I took my time strolling down the stairs and flipped the light on.
Sloan was sleeping in the nest of blankets I’d given her, but I could still see shivers wracking through her flesh. My breath rose before me as I closed in on her and I lifted her into my arms without bothering to wake her first.
Sloan gasped as she found herself lifted from her bed, her body tensing as she began to fight for a moment before her gaze fixed on me.
“Oh,” she breathed in relief and the corner of my mouth twitched with the promise of a smile I wouldn’t release.
“Oh,” I agreed, holding her close to my chest as we started up the stairs.
She wrapped her arms around my neck, drawing me closer so that the sweet scent of her washed over me, tempting me with the desire to take a taste.
“Did you really sleep out here on the floor?” she breathed as we made it into the hallway.
“It was good for my back,” I deadpanned as I elbowed my way into the living room and the warmth of the fire washed over us. But it held nothing to the warmth that burned through me as Sloan leaned close and pressed a kiss to my cheek.
“Thank you,” she breathed, so low that I could hardly hear the words. But there they were.
I cleared my throat and sat her down in the armchair by the fire. “I wouldn’t be too grateful, I still might have to slit your pretty throat when all is said and done, bella,” I warned.
Beautiful Carnage: A Dark Mafia Bully Romance (The Boys of Sinners Bay Book 1) Page 17