Spots stood back up, his nose to the ground, his tail wagging.
“You kept him on?” Mia’s voice held a note that took me a minute to decipher, one I’d not heard there before.
She was scared.
“Just for a while, till we get settled. Then, this place will be yours to run, hire whoever you want, fire everyone—I don’t care, as long as you’re happy.”
Spots barked again and crisp wind tore through us.
“Let’s get inside.”
“Gabriel,” Mia grabbed my arm as I unlocked the front door. I turned to her, “I don’t like him.”
“It’ll be ok.”
“I want him gone.” She stood on the threshold, her mouth chattering, and her arms folded across her holding in whatever warmth they could afford her.
“In the morning, first thing. I promise.”
She flashed me a smile that wasn’t entirely happy, more like relieved.
We walked into the farmhouse—large wooden beams and high ceilings, polished floors, and not much else.
Mia’s eyes swept the near empty space.
“There’s a bed upstairs already made. The rest you can choose, make this house our home. This is a clean slate, not a trace of history. Nothing here tells a story. Once we make this a house, we can make it our own.”
I slipped a hand around Mia’s shoulder and took her around the massive five-bedroom home. Whatever the future held, this place would be big enough to accommodate for it.
Or so I thought.
Mia seemed subdued, lost somewhere. That far away look back in her eyes. I led her upstairs and into the master bedroom.
“Are you ok Mia?”
She nodded but her glazed eyes and drawn expression pinched my heart.
“I need to tell you something.” She looked at her hands, her fingers lacing in and out of one another.
“In the morning, luce mia. We have plenty of time.”
Except that we didn’t, and I should have listened.
I slept like shit. Mia tossed and turned beside me all night. I stretched and went for a piss, leaving Mia to sleep. I grabbed a pair of jeans and went downstairs to the kitchen and made a coffee. The house glowed with the sun as it kissed the wooden panels, making it seem like the entire house was coated in gold.
Spots scampered up to me, his nails scratching on the wooden floors.
“Hey buddy. You wanna go for a walk?”
He barked his response.
“Shhh, Mia is sleeping.”
He barked again at the mention of her name, and I rolled my eyes leading him to the door. The morning air smacked my skin and burned my face. I pulled on a jacket and boots while Spots ran up and down the path, waiting for me.
In the sunlight everything seemed bigger like it had taken a deep breath and expanded. The farm seemed to stretch on forever as I scanned it from the front porch. Everything was just so open, so peaceful. Isolation suddenly felt very vulnerable.
I followed Spots as he ran, marking every bush and tree, every shrub and rock. He leapt and bounded, exploring the farm through his senses. He would be happy here, we all would.
When we came back, Mia was up and draped in one of my shirts. She looked sexy as hell bending over the kitchen island and sipping on her coffee.
“Hey.”
“Hi.” She flashed me a smile.
“Did you sleep well?”
She shrugged, “I’ll sleep better once you get rid of that Geoffrey guy and his crew.”
I kissed her, a tender soft peck on her lips, “This morning, right after breakfast.”
But before I finished my promise the phone rang.
“Morning boss.”
“What do you want?”
“Just checking that you’re still running on time? We’re heading out now.”
Fuck. I raked a hand through my hair and my gaze flickered to Mia. She isn’t going to like this, “Yup, I’ll head out in ten.”
Mia’s eyes shot to mine. The line went dead.
“Head out where?”
“I have to go meet Salvatore.”
“But we just got here. You promised to get rid Geoffrey, and that we would go shopping and talk.” Her hands were on her hips, her fingers turning white.
I sighed, looking up to the ceiling, “I know. I know I promised, and I can promise you that Geoffrey will be gone by the end of the day. I just have to go meet Salvatore now.”
“Why?”
“Mia—”
“Why? Why is he more important than I am?”
“That’s not fair.”
“It’s not!” She pouted.
I was on her in two steps. My hands wrapped around her, and I pulled her close to me, her heat searing my skin. I kissed her forehead and leaned into her so that our foreheads touched.
“It’s the first lead we’ve had to finding this man, and it might be the last. I have to go Mia.”
Her mouth stretched and her brows gathered.
“It’ll be a couple of hours, tops.” I pulled away from her and grabbed my bike, keys, and helmet.
“Gabriel…”
“I know.” I said as I stepped outside and closed the door behind me.
Problem was, I didn’t know anything.
Part XXIII
The door creaked like the moaning of a dying old man as we pulled on it. It dug into the gravel, tilting slightly off the old hinges. It hung unbalanced—just like we were all about to be. The smell hit us first. The stink of what was probably human feces coated the air. It crawled deep into my nostrils and down my throat, and made me want to gag.
The open door drew a strip of white light into the dark room, and in the corner we found the creature. It was decaying, starving, and wasting away into nothingness. Because he too was nothing, and he needed to remember that.
He flinched at the sound of the door and covered his eyes at the too bright light. Light. He would be starved of that too. He cowered in the corner, gradually letting his hand fall from his face, his eyes blinking until he could focus. His brown eyes held my own, glaring and burning.
I recognised hate when I saw it. I have no doubt he saw the same look in mine. He shuffled against the wall, trying to make himself smaller like he wanted to disappear. But there would be no time for that today.
I took another step into the room, the stench overwhelming. I signalled to Romeo who begrudgingly reached for the overflowing bucket and stepped outside. It made little difference, the smell of shit and desperation clung to the walls.
“Stefano,” I started. The small gaunt man turned his head in my direction and snarled. He was half the man he used to be, but just as alive as ever.
“Did you miss me?” I prodded. His upper lip curled in disgust, and he looked away at his bony hands, long skeletal fingers scratched an oozing sore on his neck.
“Do you like your accommodation?” Still he ignored me, his fingers tracing his pointy body, now all edges and protruding bone.
“I wish I could have come sooner, but there’s been some trouble,” at that he grinned, satisfied, “I do hope this time alone gave you some time to think.”
“Fuck you.” His voice croaked and grated like it had just woken up from a long sleep.
“You know what? It’s hard to talk in all this stink,” he went back to ignoring me, “I think it's time for a shower.” At that he looked up as me, his eyes wide. I stepped aside allowing Salvatore to step forward with a hose. He flashed Stephano a smile before he released the blast of water.
The water smashed against his naked form that was nothing more but a skeleton covered in loose, sickly skin. He screamed and wailed as the water rushed along his infected body, washing always piss and ooze, searing his senses with cold. The water pooled on the concrete floor and streams towards us, running outside like a putrid lake. Everything that touched Stephano turned to shit.
He gurgled and choked as the water splashed across his face, driving him into the wall. His feeble attempts to cover his face were useless agains
t the powerful force of the water.
I wanted to feel sorry for him but, truth be told, I felt nothing. I wondered what Mia would think if she knew of this, of this hidden side of me—a side I never wanted to show her. I brushed the thought away.
Stephano turned his back to us, the water slicing along his skin. His howls echoing in the small, concrete cave.
“Stop!” He screamed and gurgled, “Stop. Please stop.”
I let Salvatore go on for another minute and then gave him the signal to turn off the hose. Stephano looked like a drowned cat, pathetic and dripping. His long hair clumped over his eyes and plastered to his neck, his eyes scathing.
“You smell better.”
“Fuck you.” He hissed.
“Have you been enjoying your stay Stephano? I hear the food could be better.”
“Fuck you,” he sneered, “I know why you’re here.” His smile grew wider, “You still haven't found anything and you need my help.” I could see the thought gave him immense pleasure.
“Do I?”
“Why else would you be here? Why else would you have kept me alive all this time? You need something and you think I'm gonna help you,” he spat out the last, “But I've got news for you, you piece of shit, I'm not gonna give you anything. You'll never get anything out of me.”
“Are you sure about that? Would you like to spend another six months in here and think about it?” His eyes widened for a second then his face dropped to his feet.
“Fuck you D’Angelo.”
I shrugged, “Good seeing you Stephano.” I turned my back to him and took a step towards the exit.
“Wait. Wait. Wait! Wait!” I didn’t stop, “Gabriel, wait,” he was begging, breaking. This is what I needed. “Maybe we can talk.”
I turned back towards him not stepping any closer.
“What you do want to talk about?”
He shrugged, “I don't suppose you have a cigarette on you?”
“No, but he might.” I turned towards Salvatore who produced a box of cigarettes. Tormentingly slow, he unwrapped the plastic cover and pulled out a single cigarette. Stephano’s eyes didn’t leave Salvatore’s hand. He licked his lips, his eye growing wider
Salvatore held the cigarette out, “You're gonna have to come here if you want it. I'm not going to step in your shit.”
Stephano shuffled towards us until the slack in his chain grew taught and he couldn’t come any closer. His entire body leaned and stretched towards Salvatore who waited. Stephano looked broken, but his mind was still working hard. I could see his eyes flicker to the open door, to the dim winter sunlight, to the fresh air that waited outside.
Salvatore placed the cigarette in his mouth and it fell into the water below. Stephano’s face cracked. Salvatore pulled out a second cigarette and when he placed it in Stephano’s mouth he grabbed it with his teeth and waited. He was like a dog, a broken, pathetic dog. But every dog had a wild streak and Stephano was no exception.
Salvatore lit a match that hissed in the small room and held it to the end of Stephano’s cigarette. He inhaled deeply and took a few steps back so that he could place it between his fingers, “Thank you, thank you.” He sucked on the cigarette. Blue and white smoke filled the space, suffocating us. The stench of shit mingled with the heavy reek of smoke.
“How can I help you Gabriel?” He looked at the cigarette in his hand as if it was a natural extension of his body.
“Emilio Rocco.”
His eyes shot to mine and he held my gaze, “You still haven't figured it out have you? You still don't know who he is.” The mocking sneer crossed his face again, and I pushed my hands into my pockets clenching my fists. For now, I still needed the fucker.
“No more games Stephano. Talk.”
“People will be looking for me.”
I laughed, “It’s been months Stephano. No one's been looking for you, nobody gives a shit that you've disappeared off the face of the planet. Your boys have moved on, everyone thinks you’re dead.”
His face creased as he thought and inhaled, blue smoke flowing from his mouth.
“Tell me what you know.”
“Why? You're gonna kill me anyway.”
“Maybe I’ll set you free. Or maybe I’ll walk out of this room and never come back. Not me, not anyone. You think one meal a day and a clean bucket is hard? I will leave you here to rot. No one will ever know you’ve ever existed. There will be no more food, no water, no light, no contact. You will die screaming in darkness, covered in your own shit.”
“How can I trust you.”
“Does it matter?”
He sucked on his cigarette, the ember burning orange as it burned the butt. He looked at it longingly and threw it on the floor. It hissed as it touched the pooled water. He shivered and pushed a wet lock of hair away from his eyes.
“Why don't you quit stalling and just tell me what you know.”
“I don't know a lot, but I know someone who knows everything. Your problem has been that you've been looking in all the wrong places. You've been looking over your shoulder and in the countryside, I bet you've even been looking in those videotapes.”
I didn’t respond, my heart chugging in my chest. I could hear it too loudly in this tomb.
“Where you should have been looking is closer to home.” A smile split his face and it wasn’t mocking, it was pure joy.
“What are you talking about? Close to home?”
“I'm talking about his daughter, the one you've been fucking for the last year.” His cackled echoed in the small chamber, a maniacal laugh that distorted his face. My heart slammed in my chest as I digested his words.
“Say that again…slowly.” I hissed through gritted teeth.
“Mia Ritzzi is Emilio Rocco’s daughter. If you want to know where he is, just ask her.” His laughter grew.
I gritted my teeth, pretending my entire insides were not collapsing, that my heart was not smashing against my ribs trying to break itself open. Mia.
I turned to Salvatore, “I think Stephano here needs another shower before we go.”
Salvatore said nothing else. He stepped outside and returned with the hose. The water drowned out Stephano’s laughter, pushing him against the wall as he clawed against the deluge. As I stepped outside, I could hear his gurgled screams.
“D’Angelo, set me free! You promised!”
I stepped outside and into the light, sucking in fresh air. My throat threatening to close. I grabbed my helmet and climbed on my bike, the engine screaming to life.
I tore down the road towards the farm wondering who the fuck Mia Ritzzi was.
to be continued…
Acknowledgments
A Word from Jane:
I would like to start by thanking you, the reader, so much for reading! If you enjoyed the story, please leave a review and recommend the book to any friend you think would love Gabriel’s story. You will have my eternal love and gratitude. Even a few short words go a long way.
As always, I would love to thank my wonderful friend and beta, Dawn. Her enthusiasm knows no boundaries, her genuine love for books, reading, and helping authors is contagious and humbling. I have loved having her in my corner. Thank you.
To all my other betas and C/Ps, your input and critiques have been invaluable. Without you, Gabriel would not be where he is today.
About the Author
Jane Wynters doesn’t quite know how to answer the question of “where are you from?” She’s moved from place to place like a snowflake on the wind always searching for a safe place to land. She loves meeting new people and exploring new places. She loves reading, writing and conjuring new worlds from her imagination. Coffee is at the top of her food pyramid and she is fluent in three languages, her favourite being sarcasm.
Want to know more about the author and keep in touch? Get snippets of upcoming books and have a bit of twisted fun?
Come join me in Wonderland.
Also by J. A. Wynters
Sta
ndalone
Guarding Gabriel
Parts of Me Series
Spare Parts, Book 1
Fixed Pares, Book 2
Broken Parts, Book 3
Coming Soon:
Parts of Me series continues with:
Torn Apart, Book 4
Picked Apart, Book 5
If you like this book please leave a REVIEW. I love reviews as they tell other readers that this book is worth their time and money. I hope you feel that it was, now that you’ve finished the latest installment. Feel free to drop me a line in my author group and let me know what you thought of Gabriel and Mia’s journey so far and if you want to know more. I’m loving writing this series! It’s quickly becoming a favourite; I hope you agree.
Don’t stop scrolling now, a snippet of what’s to come is waiting for you.
Broken Parts (A Dark Romance) (Parts of Me Book 3) Page 12