Broken Parts (A Dark Romance) (Parts of Me Book 3)

Home > Other > Broken Parts (A Dark Romance) (Parts of Me Book 3) > Page 11
Broken Parts (A Dark Romance) (Parts of Me Book 3) Page 11

by J. A. Wynters


  “How do you feel, luce mia?”

  “Fuck you, Gabriel.”

  I sneered at her, “Get on stage.”

  “Gabriel—”

  “Show me your dance.”

  “Gabe—”

  “Now Mia.” I was losing patience. I could feel the crackle of anger as it flared in my palms and danced across my fingers. My hand itched to close around her neck, to hurt, to plough into something beautiful. I needed a distraction—a beautiful, seductive distraction to make me forget how angry I was with her, how frustrated, how needy and broken. She’s ruined me, my body frayed with tension and worry.

  She pouted like an angry kid, her face still heated and flushed. Her hair a frenzied mess that fell across her shoulders. Mia threw off her robe and stomped up to the stage. She was wearing a crisp button up shirt that reached just below her ass. My stomach coiled at the sight of her.

  I turned my back on her and strolled to the back of the bar then poured myself a whisky, my movements purposefully slow. The ice tinkled in the silent space.

  “Dance Mia.”

  Her lip curled out, “I need music.”

  I reached for the radio and pushed play. A low, slow melody rumbled around the room.

  I strolled back to the seat in front of the stage and sat down, nursing the glass in my hand.

  Mia stood under the beam unmoving, unperturbed, and totally fucking irresistible.

  I waited knowing my resolve was endless, knowing I have played this game before—eventually everyone broke for me. Mia would break too.

  I waited. She glowered at me.

  I waited. She shifted.

  I waited. Her hips began to sway. My lips flickered and my heart stuttered as her body followed suit.

  Stiff at first, unsure. A trickle of uncertain movements as her arms reached for the pole and her hips questioned themselves.

  Mia swayed, her body elegant and fluid, her confidence growing with each note and each movement. As her hips rolled, she traced the shape of her body below the shirt, her lower lip tucked into her mouth. Her arms left her body and gained even more confidence. Her eyes set alight as bit by bit her inhibitions shredded away.

  All her curves moved slowly in perfect harmony, like a river after the rain—full and powerful. The music guided the current of her dance, cadence coursing through her veins, extinguishing all her reservation. Mia ground against the poll, her body telling its own story, as she ripped through the buttons and shed the shirt to the floor, like old skin. Left only in a sparkling set of matching lingerie, I gasped and my cock twitched at the sight of her.

  Liberated, she moved gracefully, her body tearing through the empty space around her, tracing invisible lines, seducing mesmerising. Her body bent and twisted as she broke me down with her passion. She was a tempestuous gale bringing a vicious violent angry storm, and I the fool, who didn’t seek shelter in time, was drenched in her.

  Our eyes met and I felt all her anger as it flooded through her body and into mine. Her hands snaked behind her back, pulling at the strap of her glittering bra. My hard cock pushed against my jeans, cramped, swollen, and hungry. My breath stalled—

  The door flew open and Mia froze as Salvatore barged into Sin, the door casting a long sombre white lite against the club.

  I swivelled towards him ready to rain blows on his face.

  “Boss, trouble. Come now.”

  I shot a look to Mia, “We’re not done! Upstairs now!”

  She mumbled under her breath and grabbed the shirt from the floor, wrapping herself in it, scalding me with a pissed off look. My gaze followed to the door, “You best be waiting for me when I’m done with this.”

  She flipped me the bird and walked out to the back passage. If Salvatore wasn’t standing at the door I might have gone after her and broken it off. I pushed the thought aside. There was time to break pieces of Mia later.

  I bolted from the room. Thoughts of Mia hung on my mind—unfinished, undone. Just like me.

  I stormed out of Sin, following Salvatore, his back straight, his posture stiff, his jaw set in an angry scowl.

  “Salvatore?” I tried to ask as we tore through the lobby and made our way into the back passages of Hill Street. A hidden labyrinth that connected each room and each space and a few escape routes.

  He ignored me and kept marching.

  He pushed through the door to the loading dock. The open space, usually bustling with trucks and loaders, was eerily quiet. We walked though the room, containers and boxes littered the concrete floor. I followed Salvatore towards the office tucked away in the far left corner.

  I spotted the three men. Romeo and Leo were standing over a bleeding man. When I edged closer, I saw it was Joey. His face had been beaten into a pulpy mess. His eyes swollen, his face almost unrecognisable. His breathing was shallow and strained, he wheezed as he tried to force air into his broken body.

  “Get him to a hospital.” I hissed, heat rising to my face as fresh fury surged through my veins.

  Romeo pulled him up and escorted him into a waiting car. He placed Joey in the front seat, his head lolling, his blood smearing across the windows and interior. They drove off with tyres screeching tired and in puff of exhaust smoke.

  I turned my attention to Leo. His face was swelling and his lower lip cut. I ventured a guess that his body would look much the same—red and angry.

  “What happened?”

  “We were over run, we couldn’t stop them.”

  “Them who?”

  “I don’t know. It all happened so fast, we barely got out.”

  I turned to Salvatore, “Car, now.” But he was already running out of the loading dock, his heavy steppes echoing in the large chamber.

  “Did they say anything?”

  Leo shook hid head and brushed a hand over his face, twitching as his sweaty palm hit hip lip, “I don’t think so.”

  “Get someone to look at you.” He tipped his head, and I smashed into the office and picked up the phone to room 523, a hoarse male voice picked up, “The garage. Now.”

  “Yes boss.” He drawled and hung up.

  I could hear the roar of the engine outside, and I rushed towards the waiting car. Thoughts of Mia dissipated like smoke to the back of my mind.

  Fucking room 523. I had hoped to never have to call it again. I gritted my teeth and had barely closed the door when Salvatore took off.

  He tore down the road, paying no attention to the other traffic—screeching tyres spinning and screaming on the tar.

  We swallowed our words and hid behind the silence of our thoughts. Lupe had been a distraction, Mia was a worse one. Lupe was a free agent. He would be for hire to the highest bidder. His masters had cut him loose, but not before they took their pound of flesh. And whatever he had sold himself to, was not paying him enough—not enough to even pretend like he was getting paid. It begged the question, what did he ask for as payment. As the thoughts niggled and bit into my brain, we pulled up to the garage.

  My raging heart sighed in relief as I saw the building still standing. I stumbled out of the car and ran towards it. I’ve only been away a few weeks but it already felt like a lifetime had gone by. Salvatore ran over to Lorenzo who’s nose dripped like a tap. Red blotches exploding at his feet, like the other’s he’d been beaten badly.

  I smashed through the iron door, knowing there was no one left to find. I should have cancelled the call to 523. But maybe it was time to utilise my dark, little secret. They would be here in a matter of minutes anyway.

  I stepped inside and my heart stalled. The place had been ransacked, systematically destroyed. My eyes swept across the it as I took in the damage.

  The floor sparkled, a shower of broken glass covered it like it had been swept by a mid-afternoon hail storm. Every car in the garage had been beaten and dented, tyres punctures, paint scratched, and windows shattered.

  I edged inside. The kitchenette had been destroyed, the table up turned, and chairs smashed. Every cupboa
rd was open, hanging on hinges, the contents crudely spilt onto the floor. My lips curled and my hand shook at my sides, my fists pumping. All my muscles straining and taut.

  I pushed through the door to my room. Like the rest of the place, it had been destroyed. But my eyes were drawn to the wall where they had left a message smeared in blood.

  “I will take everything from you.”

  I sucked in the heavy air around me, toxic with anger and hate. I swivelled around when I heard footsteps. Salvatore stood at the door, his eyes narrowed as he read the message.

  “The boys are here.”

  I nodded a took a final glance back over the writing. If he wanted a war, I was about to give him one.

  The men crammed into the room, a pool of testosterone and muscle all rubbed against one another. Clad in black and heavily armed, my army gathered before me.

  Room 523.

  The one secret I kept from Mia, from the world—an army of loyal soldiers I had amassed over time. Men so broken, even after they helped me destroy the men’s lives that night when we burned all those men, they could not be released back into society.

  These were the faulty and abused, the dogs hurt so deeply that the anger and aggression became a part of who they were. If I was to set them loose, only pain and death would ensue. So I kept them on the fortieth floor for the last ten years. Every whim has been catered to—money, food, women. All they had to do was stay ready and stay prepared, in case one day I would need their services again. It seemed that the day had come.

  Dalton walked towards me, a giant of a man. His massive shoulders strapped with weapons, his shaved head peppered with blond flakes of re growth, “Boss, so nice to hear your voice again.”

  I wished I felt the same as I tipped my head and shook his hand. “How can we help?” His gaze swept the room, we both knew they had come too late.

  “I want you to clean up,” he waited in silence as I elaborated, “I want these cars gone and this place swept—the builders will come tonight to fix what needs fixing and the cars will be replaced.”

  Dalton crossed his arms across his chest, waiting for more. We both knew I didn’t call out to clean my fucking workshop.

  “And then, I want you to clean up. Anyone left alive needs to disappear.”

  Salvatore shot me a look, but I continued before he could say anything, “Males only, and keep it quiet and swift. I want it done by the end of tomorrow.”

  “So be it.” Dalton gathered his men around him. I didn’t look behind me as I stepped back outside.

  “You’re hunting the wrong people. We already broke them, they would never—”

  “How do you know? It’s been almost a fucking year since this fucker started his games, since he sent his first message, and we’ve been chasing our fucking tail!” I screamed at him, “Mia, Simone, the boys…what next? I’m not taking any more chances. I’m going to flush that fucker out.

  “You’re not thinking straight, you’re distracted.”

  “Fuck you!”

  “Fuck me?” He pushed me, “Closing down Sin so your girlfriend can dance dirty for you? Sending Dalton out on a witch hunt? Los—”

  Before he could continue, I swung at him. He dodged my fist and threw me a disgusted look. He walked to the car and slammed the door behind him looking ahead at the road. The engine roared to life as he sat idle, waiting for me.

  I scrubbed my hands over my face and grimaced. He was right. But I didn’t care.

  I slammed the door behind me as I slid into the seat.

  “Dalton and his boys will go, that’s not negotiable. We do have one more avenue though.”

  He nodded and took off, ignoring me all the way to Hill Street.

  Part XXII

  “Pack your bags Mia, we’re going.”

  “Where are we going Gabriel?”

  “Away.”

  “Where?”

  I grabbed her face, my fingers digging into her cheeks, making her mouth pout. She fought against my touch, but I locked her in.

  “Stop asking questions Mia, and do what you’re told.” I released her and she stepped back.

  “Gabriel, what’s going on?”

  So.Fucking.Stubborn.

  Maybe I should have fucked her into submission. I set the thought aside for later. Maybe Mia just needed to be broken like a wild horse. But then she wouldn’t be Mia. I sucked in a galvanising breath.

  “You wanted a war Mia. Now it’s at my doorstep, and I will not lose anyone else.”

  “So we’re running away?”

  I gritted my teeth and fought my body, my palm burning with a desire to slap her across her face and make her see clearly.

  “You think I want to leave? I’ve already had to leave my home to come and live here, now you’ve given me no other option but to get away.

  “Gabriel—”

  “No! I want you to be safe. Salvatore can handle things from this end, you’ve already interfered too much, and I can’t think clearly if I think you’re unsafe.”

  “Gabriel—”

  “Mia!” I sucked in a deep breath and wrenched my hands through my hair, “Please. Just do this one thing for me.”

  She nodded silently and opened up her drawers.

  As we rode down the elevator, I replayed the conversation I had with Salvatore earlier.

  “You need to leave and take her with you.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “You know I’m right.” He leaned against the office desk, his hands gripping the lip.

  I gritted my teeth and cocked my head. There was no arguing; ever since Mia had come into my life the delicate balance I had achieved had been turned on its head. She’d pried too many secrets from me and had my head in all the wrong place.

  Salvatore’s hand landed on my shoulder as my thoughts evaporated, “It’s ok little brother, it’s happened to the best of us.”

  “Not to you.”

  “Well…” his eyes shot to the door and back to me, “Guess not.”

  “I can fire her.” His eyes shot to my face. “You can look after her. You have almost as much money as I do.” The tip of my lip tilted at the thought.

  He didn’t answer, “Go upstairs, pack your bags. Paperwork was drawn up a week ago, it’s basically yours.”

  I gave him a long lingering look. “Stop it.” He said and moved around the desk falling into the chair. “I’ve got it. Let’s be honest, you haven’t really been interested in this place since opening night.”

  He was right.

  “Go. Get Mia somewhere safe and I’ll come get you in the morning for our scheduled visit.”

  “Salvatore—”I started.

  “I know.”

  We climbed on the bike, the chilly air already piercing our skin. It was going to be a hard ride, but maybe that’s how all new beginnings need to start. Crisp and hard and frozen along the surface, until it begins to thaw and crack and become something softer. A life we could sink right into.

  I don’t know if it was my tone or the look I gave her before we left, but Mia didn’t argue. She didn’t fight. She climbed onto the bike and held onto me. Her grip tight and fierce.

  Maybe I should have seen it then. Felt it.

  We drove into the dark night, the tall tower of Hill Street dimming behind us until it was nothing but a few glowing lights in the distance—unrecognisable.

  The bike roared beneath us, between us, and inside us.

  As we turned onto the side road, I felt Mia stiffen behind me, her hands digging it to me. I drove below the tree canopy and exited on the other side, pulling up to the main house.

  I turned the ignition off and the silence enveloped us as quickly as the dark. Mia climbed off and pulled off her helmet, looking at the house.

  “What are we doing here Gabriel?”

  “This is our new home.” I brushed a hand through my hair, despite the cold sweat covering my forehead.

  “What are you talking about?” She seemed hesitant.r />
  “You said you loved it here when we came to visit.”

  “I did, but—”

  “So, I bought it for you.”

  “Gabriel?”

  “This is the life that was stolen from you, the life you loved. Now I have a chance to give you everything you wanted.”

  She gasped, her hand covered that space where her heart lived. She looked at my face, a tortured expression covered hers as she whispered, “Gabriel I already have everything I could possibly want.”

  “Well now you have more.”

  “I don’t want it, or this. I just want us.”

  “We can’t have an us at Hill Street, and you deserve better than the garage, better than a one bedroom hole that smells like grease and petrol.”

  “It smells like you.”

  “Spots loves it here, he has space to run and explore—to be a dog.”

  “Gabriel.”

  On cue, Spots ran at me from the darkness. His happy bark echoing in the deep night as he bounded towards us, his tail wagging and his breath steaming from his mouth.

  “Hey buddy, do you like it here?” I scratched his ear and he barked again.

  A faint light grew closer and Spots’ bark changed. He growled and his teeth shone in the torch light as he bared them.

  “Just me here,” Geoffrey’s voice came from the path and soon he was standing before us. His features blurred in the dim moonlight, the torch lighting only the tar below our feet, “Just came to see you made it here all right and you’re all settled.”

  “We’re fine.” His eyes met mine and we stood there for a minute, two males assessing the other, encroaching on one another’s territory.

  “Right then. Good night. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  “No you won’t.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “I’ve kept you on to run this farm for me. I have no desire to be up with the sun or before it.”

  “I see,” I could almost taste the distain in his voice The city boy that had no desire to be a cowboy. “Suit yourself.” He turned around and walked away, the light of his torch fading as he rounded a corner.

 

‹ Prev