by Jen Davis
I closed my eyes, and visions of my father and me when I was little bombarded my mind. Laughter, happiness, and so much love. Stuck in that moment in time, I allowed myself to be swept away in all the emotions, to be there with my father for one more second. Nothing else mattered. This war, Castello, Carlo, my life…nothing mattered but that one moment.
Then through the haze of silence, another shot caused my ears to ring, but it didn’t tear away the memory, the moment, the bliss of just not caring anymore.
I waited for impact, but it never came. The vision in my head slowly disappeared, and the deadly silence around me was the heaviest I ever felt.
When I opened my eyes, I sucked in a breath, and I couldn’t even hear my heartbeat anymore.
Castello stood with a gun in his hand, his finger still holding the trigger…while his mother’s body collapsed to the ground. In shock, I looked down, a pool of blood forming around her within seconds.
And then all hell broke loose.
Someone grabbed me around my waist, lifting my feet off the ground and carrying me away from Castello instead of to him. I wanted to go to him.
I screamed, I kicked, I punched, but it was no use. It was a riot, chaos, complete mayhem as shots filled the silence like the thunder of a storm colliding with the winds of a hurricane.
“Castello!” I yelled, trying to get loose.
His eyes met mine, dark beautiful eyes, but then he shouted, “Get her the fuck out of here, Giovanni! Now!”
“No! Please, put me down.”
It was no use. I was carried out the door and down halls I didn’t recognize. Giovanni carried me like I weighed nothing. I felt like nothing. My insides felt like nothing. Images of my father with his head hanging down, red leaking from his body, consumed me, and I stopped fighting. While Giovanni ran, carrying me with him, I just did nothing.
Lies. My life had been nothing but lies.
Carlo never loved me. My father killed Carlo. Vico killed my father. Castello killed his mother. So many lies and deaths surrounded me, and I soaked it all up. Hate, revenge, death, lies—it was all inside me now, infecting me. I could feel it spread through every bone, consuming my mind, my soul…my heart. After fighting for so long, I gave in and embraced it all.
And then…nothing.
Chapter 26
Castello
It had been four days since all hell broke loose in what Tatum called the dining hall of horrors. Four days since she lost her father. Four days since I killed my mother.
Four days since the war started.
I was standing by the window of a bedroom in Uncle Gino’s house. We’d been taking up residence in his house since Vico, the smug son of a bitch, claimed the Fattore mansion, as well as half the associates. Lucky for me, I had Uncle Gino’s support, which also meant I had the support of his associates. I needed all the support I could get if I wanted to win this war against Vico—a war between brothers.
He blamed me for killing our mother, and rightfully so. I blamed myself. But when it came to choosing between two lives with only a split second to make a decision, there was no question in my mind. There was not a chance in hell I would have let my mother hurt Tatum. No one would ever hurt Tatum…except me. She was mine, and I would protect her by any means necessary.
So much had happened, and both Tatum and I had lost someone we cared about. But it was her I worried about the most. The blue eyes that always stared back at me had lost their radiance. They were dull, lifeless, completely void of everything. Not that I blamed her. She lost her father. She lost the image she had of a man she once loved…my brother, who turned out to be just as wicked as my mother was. Everything was taken away from her, and instead of mourning the loss, she seemed to have embraced it. It hardened her, and that was another thing I blamed myself for.
I thought back to when all this happened, when I rushed over here to see if she was okay. So much blood was shed, blood that stained the clothes I wore.
The second I rushed through the front door and saw her sitting on the steps, Giovanni standing a few feet away, a bone-numbing relief flowed through me. I had never been so relieved in my life. It was a selfish relief, I knew. I was relieved she was okay because the thought of no longer having her scared the shit out of me.
Tatum wasn’t crying. She wasn’t shaking. She was just sitting there staring right in front of her…until she saw me. For a second, something bright passed through her sapphire eyes, but as quickly as it came, it vanished. We didn’t talk. I had nothing to say, and neither did she. Bullets and screams and dead bodies had spoken plenty already.
I picked her up, carried her to the nearest bedroom, and we both showered in silence. It felt like hours that we just stood there, no words, no emotions—just us. After that, she started to thaw a little, but something was missing inside her, and by God, I wanted it back.
The door of the en-suite bathroom opened, and Tatum walked out with a towel wrapped around her body. Drops of water were still running down the inside of her thighs and legs, her blonde hair darkened, hanging in a disarray of perfection. I stared at her and cursed the raging hard-on that pressed painfully against my zipper. I hadn’t touched her since we’d arrived here. No matter how fucking twisted it was between us, I couldn’t touch her while I knew she was grieving—while I was grieving. But as I stared at her now, I knew it had been too fucking long, and my body demanded I claim her, the beast clawing and pacing behind its cage to feed on the warped delight that was her body.
She dropped the towel and glanced over her shoulder. “You’re allowed to touch me.”
I sauntered toward her and heard her suck in a breath as I slowly traced my finger down her spine. “Where is my little mouse?”
“She’s here.”
“No, she’s not.”
Tatum turned to face me. “If you thought that after what happened I would still be the same woman I was, you’re the one who’s naïve.”
“I just—”
She grabbed my hand and placed it against her chest. “My heart no longer beats right. I heard all the lies, and I watched my father die. Your family thought I took everything from them, when in fact they took everything from me. From the start, Carlo had planned on taking from me. So tell me, Castello, how do I remain the same person when I now carry all the ugly truths inside me?”
My heart shattered for her, my chest ached for her, but my body also burned for her.
“I’m sorry, bella.”
She smiled. “You were right.”
“About what?”
“Ignorance is bliss. I would do anything, anything to get rid of the knowledge that’s tearing me apart inside. And you know what? I now empathize with your dead mother. Now I understand the need she had for revenge…because that same need is killing me slowly from the inside. And I’ve been fighting that need for the last few days, constantly trying to dig deep enough to find the person I was, because I do not want to be like your mother. I do not want to turn into a person obsessed with revenge and retaliation.”
She guided my hand over her breast, pushing her hard nipple against my palm. I squeezed her breast, grabbed her hip, and pulled her harder against me, my gaze pinned on hers.
“You don’t have to worry about that, little mouse. Because you are only one thing,” I grabbed a fist full of her hair and jerked her neck back, my lips softly finding her skin, “you are mine, and to me, that’s all you ever will be…mine.”
Her breathing got heavy, and my body was humming, my cock demanding to be inside her. I lowered my hand and cupped her between her legs, earning a needy gasp from her lips. “This is how I know you are mine, whether you want to be or not.” I slipped a finger inside her. “Your body wants me, it drips for me, and only me.”
I reached for my zipper, pulled it down, and freed my cock, guiding it against her, pressing the head against her clit. She stumbled back and grabbed hold of the dressing cabinet behind her.
This was me, this was her, this was us. These moments where we
consumed each other, these were the dark moments that defined us both. It was in these moments we escaped, embracing our inner demons, our depravities, and forgetting about the world that so eagerly judged and destroyed.
I lifted her thigh and guided it around my waist, my cock ready at her entrance. “I know what’s been bothering you, little mouse.” I gave her just the tip of me, and she moaned, her greedy hips trying to force me in. “Ever since you came here, there has been one question haunting you.” I pulled the head of my cock away, leaving her needy and whimpering. “Ask me that question, little mouse.” I grabbed her cheeks between my fingers and squeezed as I forced her to look at me. “Ask me.”
Crystal blue eyes beamed with newly ignited desire, and I caught sight of the woman I’d desired for the last four days. Knowing that my touch was strong enough to bring her back, even for just a few moments, was fucking euphoric. That alone confirmed that I fucking owned her.
She sucked in her bottom lip, leaving it glistening with traces of temptation, igniting a goddamn inferno in my loins.
I pushed the head of my cock inside her, giving her just enough to make her crazy for more, and she moaned, her nails clawing my shoulders.
“Now ask me, Tatum!”
“Am I free to leave?” Her voice broke, quivered—whether it was from fear or lust, I didn’t know. Her gaze was etched on mine, my cock holding strong between her legs.
“Am I free to leave if I wanted to…sir?”
I hated the question. But I hated the answer even more. I pressed my mouth against hers, forcing her to open for me so my tongue could taste her, savor her. With greedy lips and covetous tongues, we devoured each other. Lost in one another, yet found in the wicked desires we shared, we kissed like it would mean death if we didn’t. Just as I started to retreat, I bit down, nipping her lips. The metallic tang of blood coated my tongue, and it fueled the sordid hunger deep inside my core.
Her tongue flicked over the wound on her lip, and I caught a glimpse of crimson before she closed her mouth. Even her goddamn blood was mine.
I placed my thumb on her bottom lip, wanting to see my mark, and I could feel her body trembling with white hot desire.
“My answer, little mouse…is no.”
With a hard thrust, I pushed my cock inside her completely. She cried out in pleasure, the sound slamming against the roof. Buried to the hilt inside the heaven between her legs, I stilled, cupping her cheeks between my palms, making sure she looked at me, that she saw the resolve in my eyes.
“You should know that I’m never letting you go, Tatum.” I reared back and pushed back in, her eyes closing momentarily, then opening again. “I’m about to fight a war, and I’m going to fight it with you by my side as my queen.”
A soft gasp rolled over her parted lips, her ice blue eyes darkening before she leaned her head back, her face covered with the look of sheer ecstasy. Yes, she was my queen, and she fucking knew it.
Again, I pulled out before slamming back inside her, her tits bouncing from the force. “You belong with me, and you know it. Your body knows it.” I continued to pump in and out of her and felt how her body gripped me tight in pursuit of a release, a climax only I could give her.
“Your body can’t lie to me.” One more thrust and she screamed, her pleasure taking control.
“Who owns you, little mouse?”
Her greedy hips continued to move, forcing me deeper and harder into her. I palmed one of her breasts, gripping it tight in the palm of my hand. “Tell me who the fuck owns you.” And then I gripped her nipple between my fingers, twisting and tugging hard.
She cried out. “You. You own me.”
“Fuck me.” Her words sent a powerful wave of rapture down my spine, forcing me to thrust hard, drive deeper. My cock slammed against her core until finally my release exploded inside her. She was mine, and I would mark her as mine every goddamn chance I got.
Her arms wrapped around my neck when we both came down from our high. Her breath was warm, her heart pounding against my chest, and our bodies melted together. We were like two pieces of a brazen world, fit together as one perfect imperfection.
Her lips brushed against my ear, her soft breath coating my skin with allure.
“Ask me,” she whispered. “Ask me the question that’s been haunting you ever since we got here.”
My body went rigid, my heart now beating more wildly than hers.
She weaved her fingers through the hair at the back of my head, her mouth softly sucking my earlobe. “Ask me, Castello.”
I placed my hand around her neck, my thumb leisurely stroking up her throat.
They said knowledge was power…but not today.
“No.”
***
To be continued…
Thank you for reading Blood and Lies.
I hope you fell in love with Castello and Tatum.
Their story continues in the second and final book of the Twisted Duet, Blood and Vows.
About the Author
All the way from Cape Town, South Africa, Bella J lives for the days when she’s able to retreat to her writer’s cave where she can get lost in her little pretend world of romance, love, and insanely hot heroes.
She has a taste for dark, romantic suspense novels with mysterious, brooding bad boys and strong, sassy women who bring them to their knees. Add a little humor and a lot of sexy, and she’s in writer’s Heaven.
Facebook:
https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100010399961437
Facebook Readers Group:
The Brazen Lounge
http://bit.ly/2LoxiJ0
Twitter:
http://www.twitter.com/bellaj_author
Website:
http://www.bellajromance.weebly.com/
Goodreads:
https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/14278529.Bella_J_
BRICK
Cooper Construction Series
Book 1
BY JEN DAVIS
Chapter 1
Brick
Brick slammed his fist into the side of Pete’s head, knocking the sniveling junkie into a heap on the floor.
“I’ll get the money for you. I swear. Please, God.” Pete climbed to his knees, his dark hands laced together like he was praying. But prayer couldn’t help him now. Brick had a job to do.
With an unforgiving backhand, he laid Pete flat. The guy lay, unmoving, on the filthy carpet of his cheap-ass apartment, surrounded by cigarette butts, empty beer cans, and the carcass of a giant cockroach.
They always thought if they could fake unconsciousness, the beating would stop. They were wrong.
“Get up.” He sounded bored. “If I have to come down there, it’s going to get worse for you.” He didn’t have to try to be intimidating anymore. Being a big motherfucker had its perks. No one wanted to fight a guy over six feet tall, carrying the kind of muscles you’d see on a pro-wrestler. Even worse for the punks who got in his way, he’d lost his soul a lifetime ago.
He wouldn’t think twice about crushing Pete’s body or spirit. He wouldn’t kill him—not yet, not while the piece of shit owed Sucre money—but he’d make him wish he were dead. The years Brick spent cultivating his status as a legend in this neighborhood guaranteed one thing: everyone knew if he paid you a visit, there was no escape from the punishment you were due.
“I’m getting up, man.” Pete groaned as he climbed to his feet, clutching his head.
He delivered a hard punch to the guy’s stomach. Pete’s breath left his body with a pained exhale.
“The money was due yesterday, Pete.” A powerful right hook followed next. Blood dribbled from the corner of the gaunt man’s mouth. And now he was crying, for fuck’s sake.
“I’ll do anything, Brick,” Pete blubbered. “You want a blow job? I’ll suck your dick, man.”
He wrinkled his nose. This was always the worst part.
Panic flaring in his eyes, Pete held out his hands. “No. No. You want a girl? Yeah, you do.
I’ve got a daughter. She—”
His fist shut down the offer more effectively than words ever could. He welcomed the sting in his knuckles as he knocked out a couple of the guy’s teeth in the process. Pete clawed at his own neck, wheezing as he choked.
The little girl with light brown skin and braids, whom Pete had shoved into the bathroom when he got here, couldn’t have been more than ten years old. Sick bastard.
He didn’t hurt kids. Ever. It was the only line he refused to cross. Nobody knew it, and they never would. The second he revealed a weakness for anything, someone would use it against him. He learned that lesson the hard way. It paid not to care about much of anything—or anyone—which wasn’t too hard, since nobody gave a shit about him, either.
The unmistakable scent of piss wafted to his nose, though it was a miracle he could smell anything over the stench of rotting garbage overflowing from the can near the kitchen sink. At least Pete hadn’t shit himself.
“You’ll deliver Sucre’s money tomorrow. With interest. Or I’m going to have to come back here.” He wrapped his hand around Pete’s jaw and squeezed. “You don’t want me to come back here.”
Pete shook his head, but he only moved a fraction of an inch in the vise of Brick’s fingers.
Satisfied he’d made his point, he dropped Pete to the floor and turned his back on the pathetic excuse for a man left crying in a soggy heap. Despite his warning, he knew how all of this would end. Pete didn’t have the money today, and he wouldn’t have it tomorrow.
So, Brick would return in less than twenty-four hours to do this all again. Tomorrow it would be worse. Tomorrow, he’d leave Pete nursing broken bones. The next night, he’d leave Pete dead on the floor. There would be no deals, no pardons. None of Pete’s prayers would make a difference. God didn’t listen to prayers in this neighborhood, and even if He did, the Savior himself couldn’t stop what Pete had coming to him.