by Penelope Sky
But that didn’t mean I wouldn’t try.
My father was so proud of me when I escaped. The emotion was in his eyes like never before.
I had to make him proud again.
I threw my hands across the center console and grabbed the wheel, determined to make it crash into a pile of snow or a tree. I pushed the steering wheel to the left, but his grip was too tight.
He slammed his foot on the gas, pushing the van at top speed. Then he turned his face toward me, his look so intense it resembled the underworld. With only a single hand, he managed to keep the steering wheel straight. He let the van fly down the icy road as he mocked me with his gaze. He challenged me, unafraid of the unknown ahead of us.
I yanked on the steering wheel again, but his grip was too tight. Now we were going ninety down the icy road, and if I didn’t back off, we would both be killed when we slammed head first into a tree.
His blue eyes were malicious, unflinching with a lack of fear. Death didn’t scare him. He’d rather make sure the crash killed both of us than risk my getting away. “Let go or we both die.”
A guarantee of death would defeat the purpose of this. So I let go and returned to my seat.
He lifted his foot off the gas.
He slowed us down before we came to a bend in the road. He turned into the curve and kept the van from spinning out of control. Then, like nothing happened at all, we cruised down the path with the piles of snow on either side.
I pressed my forehead against the window and sighed. “Fuck.”
“I admire your bravery. But I don’t admire your stupidity.”
I kept my gaze out the window. “Let me go, and I promise I won’t say anything to my family. We’ll pretend it never happened. You don’t want to be in this situation. If they figure out it was you who killed me, they’ll never stop until you and your whole family are dead.”
“Well, they already killed my family, so that’s one less thing on the list…”
I turned my head back to him. “What?”
He stared straight ahead. “And I don’t care if they come after me. It’ll give me an opportunity to kill the rest. So, no, letting you go isn’t an option. I want them to know I killed you. I want them to suffer. Letting you go would rob me of my vengeance. Trust me, I’m going to kill you. I just have to make it good.”
“But you came across me by accident.”
“Was it on accident?” he said quietly.
My skin pebbled with bumps. “What did my family do to you? They’re peaceful people. You must be confused.”
“No.” He slowed down when he reached a turn in the road. He went right and headed down the weathered path. “I’m definitely not confused.” The tires crunched over the snow as we approached the beach at the lake. The water wasn’t frozen, but at this time of year, the peaks around it were covered with snow. Tourists flocked here every summer, but in the winter, it was abandoned.
There would be no one for miles. My screams wouldn’t make a difference. “What about the man in the back? Was he just in the wrong place at the wrong time?”
“I wouldn’t worry about him. You’re still alive, so I would worry about yourself right now.” He killed the engine then hopped out of the van.
My breathing increased, and I started to panic. I could usually keep my cool even in the worst circumstances, but now that there was no hope, I really felt like my death was imminent. My parents loved me so much, and they would never get over my death. My brother would be devastated too, along with the rest of my family. I didn’t want them to suffer. Even if he drowned me in the ice-cold lake, I wouldn’t suffer as much as they would.
Think, Vanessa.
He opened the backdoor to the van and dragged out the body of his first victim.
I turned in my seat to look at him. “What are you doing?”
“Throwing him in the lake.” He dragged the body over the ground then across the snow toward the water. The keys to the van were in his pocket, so I couldn’t take off. My father never taught me how to hot-wire a car, but I yanked open the compartment underneath the steering wheel and tried. There were lots of wires, and I couldn’t figure out what to cut and what not to cut. I ripped them all out just to be spiteful. After he killed me, I hoped his engine wouldn’t start. Maybe he would freeze to death out here.
Served him right.
When I leaned over, I noticed a small piece of metal under his seat. I glanced out the window to see him dragging the body to the end of the pier. He was almost to the end where he would push the corpse into the lake.
I turned back and grabbed the metal.
It was a gun.
A fucking gun.
Yes.
I sat upright and checked the barrel.
One bullet.
I couldn’t miss.
The man kicked the corpse into the water then turned around. He walked back toward me.
Now that I had some hope in my veins, my hands wouldn’t stop shaking. This moment was about life or death. If I didn’t aim perfectly and hit him right in the heart or the skull, I would blow my only chance.
I wasn’t going to miss.
I waited until he was close to the van before I opened the door and got out. I kept the gun hidden at my side so he wouldn’t notice it right away.
He was at least six-three, tall and muscular. He was packed with muscle on muscle, and he held himself with a formidable posture at all times. His blue eyes may have been pretty, but they were terrifying. His look was trained on me, an omen of what would come next. “Your turn, baby.”
“Don’t call me baby.” I aimed the gun and pointed it right at his heart. I didn’t hesitate to look for the terror in his eyes. I didn’t give myself any time to think about anything. I just had to kill this guy.
I pulled the trigger.
I missed his heart, but I hit him in the shoulder.
His body jerked slightly with the momentum of the bullet, but not once did his expression change. He didn’t show pain or fear. Like he was receiving a shot at the doctor’s office, it was just a quick pinch.
He halted in his tracks as he stared at me, and his furious expression changed into a different look altogether. Intense, territorial, and frightening, he looked at me like I was his next victim. His chest rose and fell at a quicker rate, the adrenaline spiking in his blood.
I still had the gun, so I had something to whack him with.
But he had a gun too. It sat on his hip. All he had to do was pull it out and snuff out my life right then and there.
But he didn’t.
He stormed me, moving at a quick pace over the snow and heading right for me.
I raised the gun to smack him in the skull.
Without looking at it, he grabbed my wrist and smashed it against the side of the van, forcing my fingers to release the butt of the gun. It fell to the snow as my body was pressed against the door of the van.
One hand moved into my hair, and he crushed his mouth to mine.
And kissed me.
He kissed me aggressively, like he’d been wanting to do it for the last few hours and finally gave in. His massive body pressed against me, and he breathed warm air into my lungs. It was silent outside, the echo of the gunshot long gone.
He felt my lips with his own, sucking my bottom lip before he migrated to the top. His mouth worked mine, taking the lead and cherishing me like a man madly in love with a woman. There was more passion in that embrace than any other man had ever shown me. His cock was hard in his jeans, and I could feel it press against me.
It was a monster, just like he was.
It happened so fast I didn’t have time to think about what I was doing. But I kissed him back, my body naturally following his. I’d never been kissed this way, with such masculine possession. This man didn’t give me a chance to decide what I wanted. He just took me, like he already owned me.
Blood seeped from his wound and dripped down his leather jacket. It got on my jacket and my fingertips,
warm in the frigid temperatures. He was bleeding badly, but that didn’t deter him from giving me the best kiss of my life. It didn’t stop the blood from giving him a huge hard-on.
I’d never met a man like this.
He fisted my hair harder, taking charge by force. His tongue came next, slipping into my mouth and meeting mine.
My tongue danced with his, the seductive embrace making me forget the cold.
Packed with heat, desperation, and chemistry, the kiss was exceptional. It had to be under the circumstances.
Then he abruptly ended it, pulling his warm mouth away and leaving me exposed to the cold air once more. “Get your ass in the van.” He snatched the empty gun from the ground and got into the driver’s seat.
My back was still to the door as I considered what just happened. I was still breathing hard, processing the euphoric moment I just felt. I shot the guy with the intention to kill.
And his response was to kiss me.
The engine roared to life.
Did that mean he wasn’t going to kill me?
He honked the horn.
I snapped out of it and got into the passenger seat. I buckled my safety belt and watched the clearing disappear as we headed back to the road. “Does that mean you aren’t going to kill me?”
He pulled onto the main road but didn’t turn back the way we came. “Oh, I’m definitely going to kill you.”
2
Bones
Vanessa Barsetti.
With gorgeous black hair and Italian olive skin, she was a beauty. Her green eyes contrasted against her exotic features, making them astounding and expressive. When I was about to butcher her on the sidewalk with a knife, I got a glimpse of her features in the darkness.
And I recognized her.
I didn’t plan it, but she fell right into my lap. I didn’t believe in destiny or fate.
But I believed in karma.
She came to me for a reason, walked past that alleyway because she was supposed to.
That way, I could take her and do what needed to be done.
The blood war had never ended. It was simply paused.
I drove down the dark road then turned left, away from the lake. I began the windy ascent to the top of the mountain, to a piece of property I bought a long time ago. There wasn’t another house in sight, and since the terrain was difficult to scale, it was the perfect hideaway for my criminal activities.
I drove twenty minutes up the snowy mountain with Vanessa silent beside me. I told her I was going to kill her, and I meant it. She should enjoy her last minutes of life as best she could, because she didn’t have a lot of time left.
I just had to decide the perfect way to kill her.
To make it hurt.
Drowning her in a frozen lake would have been too quick. I wanted her body to be mutilated. I wanted to hand her back to Crow Barsetti in pieces, so he could look at his only daughter and break down in tears.
The way my mother looked at my father after Pearl Barsetti stabbed him with a knife.
I already knew Vanessa was beautiful because I’d seen her pictures throughout the years. But seeing her in person didn’t do those photographs justice. She’d inherited her father’s Italian qualities but kept her mother’s beauty. As a result, she was gorgeous.
Even I had to admit it.
My arm started to feel numb when we arrived at my villa at the top of the mountain. Blood had seeped into my jacket and my jeans, and if I didn’t get it patched up soon, I might have to head to the hospital.
When I kissed her, it was just instinctual. This woman had fought me every step of the way. She had pushed herself to keep going when anyone else would have given up. When she couldn’t stand, she crawled. And when she couldn’t crawl, she didn’t hesitate to tell me to fuck off. I stuck that taser in her neck several times and for a long duration, enough to make her pass out.
But that didn’t slow her down.
It annoyed me, but it also impressed me.
I’d never met a person like her.
The odds were stacked against her, but she never showed fear. She never bowed underneath the weight of the situation. Proud and strong, she kept her head held high. When she didn’t get away, she tried to crash us off the road. When I walked to the lake, she tried to hot-wire the car. When my back was turned, she found my gun under the seat.
And she shot me.
She fucking shot me.
There was no hesitation before she pulled that trigger. She aimed at my heart, intending to kill me and leave me out there in the snow.
Fuck, it made me so hard.
It turned me on to see a woman submit, to see a woman beg for her freedom. But it was nothing compared to watching a woman fight like that. I’d never seen a woman stand so tall and straight. I’d never seen a woman do anything to survive. She didn’t tell me I wasn’t a monster or try to convince me to let her go. She didn’t try to humanize herself. She knew exactly what I was and didn’t sugarcoat it.
I was forced to respect her.
I pulled the van into the garage of my villa, right beside my other cars and trucks, and then we went inside. The house was warm, and the fire was roaring in the hearth. The red carpet took the dirt and snow off my feet, but Richard would clean it up once I went to bed.
Vanessa stopped and looked around, studying her surroundings as she searched for a weapon.
I expected nothing less.
I grabbed the first aid kit tucked in a bookshelf and then sat on one of the couches in front of the fire.
She kept looking around.
“Sit.” I opened the box and pulled out the stitching equipment.
She stood in front of the couch, her arms crossed over her chest. The light from the flames made her eyes stand out like jewels.
I pulled out the thread and the needle. “Trust me, you don’t want me to ask again.” I pulled off my leather jacket, which was now caked with my blood. I pulled my long-sleeved T-shirt over my head next and set it on the coffee table.
Her eyes moved up my body, examining my plethora of tattoos and muscles. Blood was covering most of the ink on my left hand. I had an artist draw out all the bones in my arm and my hand, showing an x-ray with ink. It was a sleeve of tattoos that represented me in the clearest way possible.
“Why should I listen to you?”
“Because I’ll stick your hand in the fire just to watch you scream.” I looked up at her, telling her not to call my bluff.
She made the right decision and sat down. “I know how to thread, but I’ve never done stitches before.”
“I’ll guide you.” I grabbed the tweezers, dug them into my flesh, and then pulled out the bullet. I tossed it on the coffee table where guests drank their brandy. Then I covered the wound with a thick gauze, immune to the pain because I’d been shot so many times. My ink made the bullet holes difficult to see, but the women I bedded loved to touch them with their fingertips while I fucked them against my headboard. Once enough pressure had been applied to slow the bleeding, I poured a bottle of vodka over it then told her to start stitching.
She listened to me and got the job done.
Then I wrapped it in gauze and secured it in place.
She set her instruments on the table, which were caked with blood. “I despise myself for what I just did.”
“Third-degree burns are brutal. You’d be crying on the floor right now.”
Richard, my caretaker, stepped into the entryway sitting room. He was an older man that I’d found living on the streets in Milan. He lost his wife to cancer, and his only son died in a car wreck. He had been laid off from his job and never got back on his feet. Without having any will to live, he settled for the frozen streets of Milan. So, I offered him a job working for me. “Sir, is everything—” He stopped talking when he spotted Vanessa.
I’d told Richard to stop calling me sir, but he never listened to me. Sir was a bullshit title for an egotistical jackass. I was a murderer and didn’t deserve to be
addressed so properly. I made my living without honor, and I didn’t want to pretend there was anything honorable about me. “Richard, remove all the guns stowed in the house and lock them up in the vault. Turn off the Wi-Fi and shut off cellular service. My guest is a fighter.”
“Of course, sir.” Richard took the instruction without thinking twice about it. “Anything else?”
“I’m starving. Make dinner.”
“Right away.” He walked off and left us alone in the entryway.
I grabbed a bottle of scotch and poured myself a drink. I downed it in a single gulp, wanting the liquid to burn a fire in my belly. I refilled my glass.
Vanessa watched my movements. “You’re being rude.”
“Really?” I asked without interest. “Did this rudeness just start now? Because I’ve been a dick since the moment we met. Unless your standards are changing in real time.”
Her green eyes burned with irritation. “If you’re going to kill me, can I at least have a drink?”
“You want scotch? Not some fancy Barsetti wine?”
She snatched the bottle and drank straight out of it. She took a long drink before she set it down, a few drops collecting on her lips. “Now what?”
“What? You want me to kill you right this second?”
“What are you waiting for?” she countered.
“I’ve got to do it the right way. I want it to sink into your father’s brain and never disappear.”
Her eyes narrowed with unbridled hostility. “What did my family do to you?”
If only she understood how beautiful she looked when she was angry. It was a shame I’d have to kill her and drop off her body at the Barsetti doorstep. She was paying for the sins of her parents, but the same thing had happened to me. “They ruined my life.”
“How so?”
“They killed my father. My mother was left with nothing because his enemies took everything. She turned to prostitution to take care of us. And then a client murdered her and left her body in a dumpster. I was ten at the time.”