“Friends can cuddle, right?” He smiled not with his mouth but with his deep brown irises that had flecks of gold running through them. “I think that’s allowed.”
“You are unexpected, Samuel Bonfiglio.”
He cringed at the sound of his real name. “No one has called me that since I was in middle school.”
“My first friend ever was the kid who I knew as Samuel, not Sonny.”
“Thank God for nicknames, right?”
“You were so prim and proper back then. It was cute.”
He rolled his eyes and sighed at the memory. “That’s because my mom insisted on dressing me up like some pussy.”
I elbowed him in the chest, laughing. “You looked adorable.”
His nose wrinkled in disgust. “Men are not adorable. Gross.”
“Sonny suits you.”
“It does.” He sucked in a deep breath and let it out. “At least Angelo knows how fucking lucky he is to be with you. I’d make every second I had count.”
I curled up with him and took in his manly scent, memorizing everything about Sonny. When I was with him, I was at ease. Being with Sonny was like being with Angelo, only different. I didn’t want to fuck Sonny. I wanted to hug him and never let go. Our relationship was weird but special. I’d known for years that Sonny loved me in a less than friendly way. His love for me also made him the perfect man to watch out for me when Angelo wasn’t around.
“Hey, do you wanna watch a movie with me? I’m not tired yet. It might help me sleep.”
Sonny reached for the remote on my nightstand and turned on the television. “What are you in the mood for? Please don’t say rom-com or I will blow my brains out.”
I giggled and smacked him playfully on the arm. “Hello, this is me you’re talking to. How about horror? Have you seen the new Saw movie?”
“Horror I can do.” He shook his head, flipping the channels on the remote to look for Pay-Per-View. “I haven’t watched a movie in years.”
“That’s because you’re too busy watching super fucked-up porn,” I joked.
“Ha! Very funny, G. You think you’re so damn cute.”
“I know I am, Samuel.”
He dug his knuckles into my hair, mashing my curls together. “Knock that Samuel shit off.”
“It’s your name. Is it not?”
“So. Doesn’t mean I want you using it.”
“I’m probably the one person who could get away with calling you that.”
“And my mom. She refuses to call me Sonny. I know she’s pissed when she calls me by my nickname.”
“She must use it a lot with all the bad shit you do.”
“Says the girl who gets horny after watching someone get shot in the head.”
I lift a pillow from the bed and smack him on the shoulder with it. “I can’t believe Angelo told you that. Are there no secrets around here?”
“He didn’t say a word. I just happened to notice you two fuck after he tortures or kills someone. You give the girls in my videos a run for their money.” He said the last part with a smirk.
“Samuel Bonfiglio, I am going to kick your ass.”
I hit him again with the pillow. This time, he took it from me, and then tickled me until I couldn’t stop laughing.
“You’re such a pig. I can’t believe you listen to us have sex.”
“I think everyone on the block can hear you two. You’re not hard to miss. Harder, Angelo. Oh, that’s it, baby, eat my pussy.”
I covered my eyes with my hands, somewhat embarrassed. “Please tell me you don’t get off on it, you sick fuck.”
He wiggled his eyebrows at me. “Popcorn in one hand, dick in the other.”
“You’re sick. Give me that pillow back so I can smack the shit out of you.”
“I was joking. Maybe.”
“Fucker.” I laughed along with Sonny. “If it makes you feel any better, I would have picked you if I wasn’t with Angelo.”
He snorts. “Great. Sloppy seconds. I love them.”
“Speaking of popcorn, you should go make us some and bring it up here for our movie.”
Sonny dropped the remote to the mattress and slid his long legs off the side. “Anything else. You want a soda or something?”
I smiled up at him. “Yeah. Cherry Coke. Melt extra butter on top of the popcorn.”
“Anything else?” He shook his head, laughing. “You want a foot massage or a back rub?”
I rolled my eyes at him and waved. “Bye!”
“You’re lucky I like you, woman.” He shrugged off his suit jacket and dropped it on the back of the chair in front of the computer desk.
I watched Sonny as he rolled up the sleeves of his black dress shirt to his elbows. Sonny was a good-looking man with muscles in all the right places, a nice ass, and a perfect jawline. But he wasn’t Angelo. No one was like him. And no one would ever compare.
“Give me a few,” Sonny said, and he walked out of my room and down the stairs.
I searched the channels for the movie and got off the bed to turn off the lights. Scary movies were best watched in the dark. Otherwise, I couldn’t get into them. The mood had to be set, the food just right.
After a few minutes, I’d grown bored of waiting and went into the hallway bathroom to take my pill. I filled my hand with water and gulped down the tiny tablet. The room was dark, with nothing more than the glow from the television, and still no Sonny.
I shuffled over to the bed and dug my knee into the mattress, about to plop down when strong arms wrapped around my middle.
“Sonny, knock it off!” I tried to elbow him in the stomach and missed.
He gripped me harder, cutting off the circulation. I leaned forward to press my palms to the mattress and pushed back, but it did nothing to help me break free. When I grabbed the comforter, it flew off the bed and hit the lamp on my table. Glass broke and fell to the floor, taking a few items along with it.
“Let me go,” I yelled.
No sound. Nothing. The house was unusually quiet. I felt him reach into his pocket, his muscles brushing against my side. Then, he jammed a needle into my neck, the pain so sharp it made my skin burn. I tried to fight it with everything I had left in my body, but the drugs won out.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Angelo
Around two o’clock in the morning, the doorbell blared throughout the house, ripping me from my nightmare. I had nodded off on the recliner in the corner of my temporary bedroom. My dad had forced me to spend the night. He went on a rant after Lorenzo left about how we have to stick together in times of war. I was shocked when he said he would smooth things over with his oldest friend. My father wasn’t the second-chances type.
I pushed myself up from the chair, wiping the sleep from my eyes, and stumbled downstairs. Loud voices penetrated my eardrums, followed by Ma screaming. I kicked my ass into gear when I heard her sobs and found Ma hugging herself in the living room. Dad was still in his dark suit and wingtips, sitting on the sofa across from Lorenzo. I went to my mother and wrapped my arms around her to comfort her.
“What’s going on?” I asked, surprised to see Lorenzo again and at this hour.
“Gianna is missing,” Lorenzo choked out, his eyes red and his olive skin blotchy. “Someone took her.”
“Enzo,” my father growled. He balled his hand into a fist on his lap and spoke through clenched teeth.
My heart sank into my stomach when his words finally hit me. I removed my cell phone from my pocket and dialed Sonny. Nervous energy shot through my body as each second ticked by. I got Sonny’s voicemail and left him a message to call me back, told him that Gia was missing.
How could Gia go missing on Sonny’s watch?
He would never hurt her.
Would he?
I was so confused, my mind wracked with guilt and confusion. I should have been there. Instead, I acted like the good son and followed my father’s orders. Pete and Marco were still at the strip club, though I doubted ei
ther of them would care to help me find Gia. Marco, maybe, but Pete, fuck no.
I stood in front of Lorenzo with my cell phone in hand and sent Sonny another unanswered text message. “What happened? Where’s Sonny? He was supposed to be at the house with Gia.”
“Sonny was gone when I got home. So was Gia. I didn’t even notice they weren’t there until I went into her room to say goodnight and stepped on a broken picture frame on the floor. Then, I turned on the light and found her lamp smashed into pieces on the floor. Her comforter was on the carpet along with some of the knickknacks she keeps on her bedside table.”
A chill ran through me. My girl put up a fight.
“Did you check the security cameras?”
Lorenzo looked up at me. “Yes, I ran through the film three times. There are blank spots. About ten minutes of footage is missing. The weird part is that all the doors and windows were locked, as if nothing had ever happened. If the person who took Gianna had the sense to clean up her room, I would have thought she was out with Sonny, or even with you.”
Whoever kidnapped her knew what they were doing. Sonny was my oldest friend in the world. I wanted to believe he had nothing to do with Gia’s disappearance. But I was growing leery of everyone but Ma and Gia. They were my only constants in this fucked world I lived in.
Lorenzo looked over at my father with his face in his hands and bloodshot eyes. “Please, Angelo. Help me. I need your help.”
My father smirked, his deep brown irises full of pure evil. He was the devil in a nice suit.
“You know my conditions.”
Lorenzo sucked in a deep breath and let it out, wiping a fallen tear from his eye. “Whatever you want. It’s yours. Just get my daughter back.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Gia
I opened my eyes to the darkness that surrounded me, nothing but black. Blinking a few times, I refocused my gaze and saw nothing, no one. A blindfold covered my eyes, the material taut against my skin. My head pounded as if a jackhammer was drilling into my skull. Waves of nausea washed over me every time I was rocked from side to side.
I reached up to touch my face, my hands bound in front of me, held together by cable ties. Using every bit of strength I had—which wasn’t much—I tried to break free of my shackles. All I accomplished was to hurt myself even more.
The restraints were nothing compared to the handcuffs Angelo used on me during sex. I still had the scars on my wrists from all the foreplay over the years.
If anyone knew how to handle pain, it was me.
I could do this.
Acting on instinct, I screamed for Angelo, but my throat was so parched nothing came out. It didn’t matter, anyway. No one could hear me through the fabric that covered my mouth. I listened carefully to the sounds outside my cage, a soft whoosh of cars going past. We were driving, stop and go traffic, causing me to roll into something hard.
My shoulder hurt, but I pushed back the pain. I could deal with the hurt. I’d embraced the rough touch of Angelo’s hands for years. Being with a man like Angelo had prepared me for what I was about to endure.
When the car stopped, I said a silent prayer for help. I never prayed. Sinners didn’t pray. But I needed someone to hear my pleas, have mercy on my soul.
Absolve me of my sins.
My father’s sins.
The sins of our past.
The trunk opened, and I smelled saltwater, heard the sounds of the waves crashing in the distance. I took in the scent, committing it to memory. I’d spent summers down the Jersey Shore with Angelo and our families. We had shared so many good times cuddled up together on the beach, with Sonny at our side. Sonny was always there, always my closest friend.
My heart ached for Sonny.
Did he do this to me?
Was he my kidnapper?
I had no idea if those strong hands that wrapped around me like they knew my body were his. The man who stole me from my home didn’t give me much time to fight before he’d jammed a needle in my neck.
Someone grabbed me, dug their fingernails into my skin and lifted me out of the trunk. I attempted to kick, but my legs were bound together at the ankles. I thrashed in his arms, desperate to break free.
He started moving, his pace quick at first, eventually slowing. Sand crunched under his shoes. He had trouble sifting through the thick substance, cursing to himself under his breath.
I didn’t recognize his voice. His accent was different from mine. If I didn’t know the subtle differences, I would have thought he was from Philly. He was from New York or maybe even New Jersey that much I could tell from his voice.
He dropped me on the ground, my back hitting the sand hard. I cried out in pain, my voice muffled by the handkerchief over my mouth. The sand still was wet. It had rained earlier that night.
A phone rang, and my heart pounded. I squirmed and screamed, hoping the person on the other end would hear me.
The man with the husky voice, his accent thick and deep, answered the phone. “Yeah.” A beat passed where he listened, said okay, and then hung up.
“Put her back in the trunk,” he said to someone else.
The other man didn’t respond just followed orders. He lifted me in his arms, the woodsy smell of his cologne burying into my nostrils. His scent made my eyes burn, the smell so strong I could taste it on my tongue. When I closed my eyes, I listened to the waves crash close by. All I could see was Angelo, my blue-eyed boy, the love of my life.
The man dropped me into the trunk as if I were a bag of garbage. Then, he rolled me to my side, lifting my curls off my neck, and stuck a needle in my flesh. Screams were pointless. No one would save me.
But Angelo would come for me. He would kill these men. I knew he would. But I had no idea if he would come in time, or if I would live long enough to see his face. Touch his skin. Kiss his lips.
I drifted off, sleep imminent. The last thing I remembered before I lost consciousness was my blue-eyed boy. My white knight in a world full of darkness.
He would save me.
The knight always saved the princess.
Are you ready for the second book in the Sins of the Past series? Keep reading for an excerpt of The Ultimate Sin.
Click here to grab your copy of The Ultimate Sin.
Chapter One
Angelo
Bless me, Father, for I have sinned.
That was how it all started.
With my father. Her father.
Their sins. Our sins.
The sins of our past.
We couldn’t escape them as much as we could avoid falling for each other, crashing and burning at love.
Our love could break us.
Their power could destroy us.
But I would die trying.
She would die fighting.
My jaw clenched in anger, the pain of losing Gia almost unbearable. I fought the tears, kept them at bay. I wouldn’t allow them to win.
The men who took her would pay.
Blood would be spilled.
Lives would be shattered.
I vowed to end them. All of them.
Gia was mine. No one took what belonged to me and lived to tell about it. They taunted me, tormented me with the essence of my girl. I could hear her voice and was forced to listen to her screams. I would end her suffering and take their lives as payment for their sins.
Revenge was a long, dark road paved in the blood of others. There were no winners in this dangerous game—only survivors.
Click here to grab your copy of The Ultimate Sin.
Also by Jillian Quinn
SINS OF THE PAST SERIES
The First Sin
The Ultimate Sin
The Next Sin
The Final Sin
FACE-OFF SERIES
Parker
Kane
Donovan
Jameson
MORE THAN SERIES
More Than Friends
More Than Roommates
More t
han Enemies
LOVE IN THE END ZONE SERIES
Roughing
Holding
STANDALONE NOVELS
The Match
For more information, visit JillianQuinnBooks.com.
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About the Author
Jillian Quinn is an international bestselling romance author who likes her females just as alpha as their swoon-worthy counterparts. Born and raised in Philadelphia, Jillian sets all of her books in the City of Brotherly Love, cheers for her local sports teams, and enjoys a good cheesesteak. When she’s not writing, reading, or blogging, she’s fangirling over hockey and can be found wherever she can watch the next game.
For more information about Jillian’s books, visit her website at jillianquinnbooks.com. Sign up for Jillian's Newsletter for free books, book deals, giveaways, and exclusive excerpts from her books. Jillian loves to connect with her readers on social media. You can find Jillian on Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram.
The First Sin (Sins of the Past Book 1) Page 16