Fixed Parts
Parts of Me series, Book 2
J. A. WYNTERS
Fixed Parts: Copyright © 2019 by J. A. Wynters
All rights reserved. This book, or any portion thereof, may NOT be reproduced, scanned or distributed in any form or by any means whatsoever, including photocopying, recording or other mechanical methods, without the express written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations embodied in reviews and certain other non- commercial uses permitted by copy-right law.
This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to any persons, living or dead, any place, events or occurrences, is purely coincidental. The characters and storylines are created from the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
Fixed Parts, Parts of Me series, Book 2
Editing by: Sarah Villanueva at Dear Jane Editing
Cover design: Jo- Anne Walker
Interior Formatting: Dawn Lucous, Yours Truly Book Services
This one is for Lauren - for all the right and wrong reasons - I love you.
Contents
Author Warning
PART VIII
PART IX
PART X
PART XI
PART XII
PART XIII
PART XIV
PART XV
PART XVI
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Also by J. A. WYNTERS
Author Warning
You are about to start a long journey spanning FIVE books. If you buy this ticket and board this freight train, prepare for it to be a long and bumpy ride as we delve into all the uncomfortable parts of life. These may trigger some readers so be sure you want to get on. These books will end on cliffhangers, have twists and turns and this train is sure to be derailed as it enters a long dark tunnel of depravity.
YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.
Adult themes, strong language, graphic scenes. Enter at your own risk.
PART VIII
Nothing screams at you louder than silence.
I woke up. My face, pinned against the white door, felt bruised and sore. I wasn’t six anymore, and Alice wasn’t on the other side.
No one was.
I remained slumped against the door. My back ached from sleeping in a seated position. I felt parched; I should have left.
But I couldn’t stay away.
I wanted to…
I needed to…
I wanted her.
I needed her.
I knew I shouldn’t have stayed, but I was consumed. Possessed. Desperate.
I kept waiting.
I waited until my stomach grumbled, and the sun shifted across the horizon colouring the walls in yellows and oranges.
I waited as life moved around me in slow motion. People moved on with their lives, while I sat at her doorstep with withered wings and a splintered soul.
I watched the clouds move across the sky, cars rolling by, and dogs sniffing at trees.
I waited till the sky fell black and the smell of dinner wafted from beneath doors and oozed into the street. And when she still hadn’t shown, I crossed the road to the phone booth and called Salvatore.
The phone rang once before he picked up.
“It’s me.”
“What do you need, boss?”
“First, I need you to stop calling me that,” He huffed. “Then I need you to find Mia. She’s not at her place, she didn’t come back last night, and she hasn’t shown all day.”
There was hesitant silence on the other end of the line. “What do you want me to do with her when I find her?”
“Just let me know where she is.” My body hummed with tension.
“And that’s all?”
“That’s all.” I heard the sharp exhale.
“Consider her found.” The line went dead.
My mind felt broken.
Shattered.
My body felt heavy, which was strange given how empty I felt.
I slumped into my car seat, and the engine roared to life. I shot Mia’s apartment one final glance, then took off.
When the mind is in pain, it finds anchors to latch onto; small things in each day to make it more bearable, survivable—small, achievable tasks.
I didn’t know how long I had been staring at the gaskets but, when I moved away, my palm felt warm as if I had been grasping it for a while.
My mind kept slipping to the first time Alice disappeared. The fear. The coiled stomach and cold fingers, the tightening of everything.
The wait.
The agonised minutes and hours.
These days, I was used to Alice disappearing—it was just what she did.
But Mia?
Where the fuck was Mia?
Mia had been gone for a week and the unknown gnawed at me. Salvatore remained silent; no answers, no Mia. Was I going to find her like they found Rita? I slammed the bonnet shut and trudged to my room, slamming the door behind me. The boys would take care of the cars; I needed to take care of business.
I felt stiff.
Stiff from anger I couldn’t shake, stiff from desire I couldn’t quench, stiff with worry that wouldn’t settle.
My body shook as I fought the urge to throw everything around the room, to fight the white walls till they bled. Instead, I discarded my work clothes and dressed in something more comfortable. I called for Spots, and we ran.
The wind whipped against my face, pushing itself into my burning lungs, forcing me to breathe, to inhale, to clear my mind and focus. My feet pounded the pavement, and Spots’ paws clipped against the road as he bounded behind me. With every heartbeat, hot blood rushed through my body, pushing the choice from my heart to my brain, forcing me to accept the inevitable. I kept running, running from ghosts of the past and into the arms of the monsters that waited on the other side.
The sun was somewhere between hanging low and sinking. Indecisive. Unsure of its place. Just like me. It knew its path, but it hung on a little bit longer, resisting, fighting. Fighting the pull, the force, the burning course that has been carved out for it. It was losing the battle when we reached the garage.
I panted, sucking in deep lungfuls of air, as I pushed through the door. Sweat burned my eyes and leaked down my face. I stroked away the beads, listening. The office phone rang. It buzzed like an annoyed insect in the silence of the garage. I took the steps two at a time and grabbed the receiver.
“She’s at Stephano’s.” His voice was calm.
The breath left my body in a sharp exhale, “Thanks.” I hung up.
It was going to be a long night.
The junk yard was a wasteland where things went to die. Cars, evidence, people, it was easy to get lost in the chaos. The rusted, corrugated iron gates hung open, and I took a step inside. Spots tottered in behind me. The muddied path enclosed on both sides with dead and emptied husks of rusting cars waiting for their end in the crusher.
Like an ogre in a swamp, Stephano’s office sat in the middle of the mud. He was surrounded by filth and dangerous as hell.
His house stood a few hundred meters beyond. It was an oddity that stuck out amid all the rotting, teetering piles. The house was whitewashed, enclosed by a lush green garden that ran up to a wooden porch surrounding the exterior. A bench swing nested in the corner. It would have been idyllic if it wasn’t for Mia sitting on the swing with another man. My eyes narrowed as I watched him slither his arm over her shoulder and whisper in her ear. She smiled and he slid closer to her. I ground my teeth at my stupidity. White-hot fury washed over me as I watched him leer over her, his fiery hair alight in the sunlight. I was going to kill that man. But not yet.
I resisted the urge to run to her, to call for her. She smiled at the man again, and my fists clenched, nails
digging into my palm. If she would only look up.
My feet squelched along the path as I made my way towards the wooden office. With every step, I could feel eyes on me. I couldn’t see them, but I knew they were there. The door to the office flew open, and Stefano stepped out. A cigarette dangling from his mouth. He leaned on the door frame, sucking in black tar and blowing out white smoke.
“Stephano, long time no see.” My heart rattled in my chest, constricting with anger. Mia, Mia, Mia. It beat.
“Hello, you piece of shit.” He exhaled the words with a puff of white smoke.
“Nice to see you, too.”
I smiled at the man, and he leered at me in return.
“How can I help you, Gabriel?”
I stepped closer and swivelled my head a little in each direction to see two men flanking me on each side. My eyes flashed over to the porch. That was a mistake. Carrot Top was way too close to Mia, snug if you will. Anger surged to the surface and pulsed underneath my skin, vibrating like its own living thing, as if it had its own will.
I cleared my throat trying to calm the surging storm inside me, “I heard Mia was staying over, I have her final paycheque.”
In truth, I didn’t have to be there, I wanted to be there. I was desperate to see her; my body remembered hers with dangerous, agonising longing, fuelled by a selfish need to possess and own her. The last paycheque was as good of an excuse as any. I didn’t expect to find her in the arms of another man—the thought of it burned under my skin.
“She’s a big girl, she could have picked it up Monday.”
I shrugged, “What can I say? I thought I’d be a gentleman and save her the trouble.”
“Is that why she’s been hiding from you for a week? ‘Cause you’re a gentleman? What the fuck did you do to her?”
“Nothing she didn’t want to do. She’s an adult, she knew what she was getting into.”
“Nobody fucking knows what they're getting into when it comes to you.”
Stephano’s stooges closed the distance around me. Spots stood beside me baring his teeth, his head swinging from man to man.
“Down boy,” I soothed Spots when a glint of metal caught my eye. Stephano laughed as he pulled out a Glock and pointed it at Spots.
“No!” Fear crept up my spine. Memories barraging my brain like bullets.
“Where is your other dog? Salvatore? Too busy burying himself inside one of his bitches?” he laughed.
I bent down and took Spots’ face in my palms. “Spots, go home buddy.” He looked into my eyes. The big brown pools asking questions, trying to comprehend. I could see the hesitation flicker in his mind. He wanted to protect me, it was his job, so why was I pushing him away?
His head flinched away from my palm and twisted backwards with a snap, but it was too late. Stephano was already too close. The kick was fierce and brutal. Spots howled, the agony sending my heart into a frenzy. Spots pulled up his bad leg and it curled into his belly like it used to. My fists curled around Spots’ fur, and they ached to wipe the smirk from Stephano’s face.
“Please buddy,” I begged, “Just go I'll be fine.” Spots’ eyes flickered with guilt and confusion. I nodded at him and he limped away, looking back at me. As the three men closed the space around me, he slunk away. I breathed in relief once he was safely behind the gates. I searched the porch for Mia and her mystery man. They were both gone.
“You didn’t have to do that,” I hissed through clenched teeth as I looked down at the barrel that was edging its way closer to my face with each of Stephano’s wild swings. “I just came to hand over Mia’s paycheque.” Maybe if I said it out loud enough times, I would start believing it too.
“Like I said, you’ve wasted your time.”
“What’s it to you? Just let me conclude my business with your cousin, and I’ll leave her be.”
He smirked and dropped his cigarette into the mud, the orange ember hissed as it touched the water, “I don’t think she wants to see you.”
“I think she can make up her own mind about that.” I tried to step out of the circle of men, but they tightened around me.
“Yeah? Well, she's been holed up at my house for a fucking week crying her eyes out. So, I ask you again, what did you do to her?”
My heart sank like an anchor in a pool of pain and guilt. I made her feel all those things—all the things I didn't want her to feel, “I didn't do anything.”
I raked a hand through my hair. If she knew about Rita, would she understand? About Spots? Why couldn't she just leave it alone—me, us? Why couldn't I get her out of my fucking head? Why did every breath I took feel like it was burning in my chest and killing me slowly when she wasn't with me?
Stephano’s weasel face sneered at me. His slim body twisted, and his fist connected with my face. The pain took a few seconds to register. It sank deep and hot and angry across my jaw. I had no time to breathe, no time to recover as Stephano’s men lunged.
I dodged to the right and spun as their meaty hands reached for me. I threw my body weight behind my fist and slammed it into the man on my right, while a fist from the left sank into my stomach. I gagged for a second then dove at the other man; his eyes narrowed with determination as his fist whizzed by my head, missing me by mere inches.
I swung for a second time; my blood hummed in my veins as adrenaline coursed inside me. Pain blazed up my arm as my fist connected with his jaw, blood pooled in his mouth.
A blow smashed against my back, and the air huffed out of my lungs. I stumbled into the arms of the man I had just punched. He grabbed my head between his hands and slammed it forcefully into his kneecap.
Sharp, punishing pain burst inside my head, and my vision exploded. I stumbled backwards feeling hot liquid pour from my nose.
"Is that all you got?" I smirked, blood leaking into my mouth, coating my chin, and dripping into the mud in steady, angry droplets.
The goon drew his fist back and ploughed it into my stomach. It felt as though I had been hit by a freight train, my innards smashed together, blood vessels bursting, screaming. I fell to my knees; shallow breaths barely filled my lungs.
“Enough of this shit,” Stephano crowed, producing his gun and holding it to my temple. The cold steel pushed against my throbbing head. “Let’s finish this.”
At his words, I tilted my head, my legs ready to lunge. Stephano swung the gun around, the butt smashing into my temple with such ferocity that my body crumpled. Stars burst in my vision, and my body felt limp. Hands gripped me, pulled at me, twisted, and tore.
I wanted to fight, but my body wouldn’t respond. Everything felt heavy as I sank into the mud. Strong hands gripped my wrists and a knee pushed into my back, forcing my face into the shallow, dirty puddle. I gurgled as I tried to breathe, sucking in earth and putrid water.
I was helpless. Stephano’s face twisted in a self-satisfied grin as he undid his pants and pulled out his dick.
It was the heat I felt first as it hit my neck, then flowed onto my head, coating my hair and face. His piss stung and burned my eyes as he emptied himself above me. He cackled as he pissed, a maniacal crazy laugh. He tucked himself back in and nodded. The weight lifted from my body, and I sucked in a sour, stinking breath.
The first blow was less painful than I anticipated; although, I knew it was only the first in a series that would only get more brutal, more savage. My body was wracked with pain as kick after kick landed from all three men. A barrage of strikes hit me from every direction.
Every part of my body gushed with pain. I could taste metal as blood oozed from my nose and into my mouth. My futile attempts at fighting depleted what was left of my energy.
Just as suddenly as it began, the beating ended. I tried to breathe; each dragging breath jarring and brutal as my chest panged with the effort. My right eye was clamped shut and the left was swelling up. My body pulsed and throbbed with red, raw currents of pain.
“Not so smart now, are you?” Stephano hissed and stepped back a
dmiring his handy work. He pulled out his box of cigarettes and lit up, blowing out a white cloud of poison. I gagged on the puddle of piss and blood as it trickled leisurely down my throat.
Stephano closed the distance between us, squatted and grabbed my chin. Two claw-like, stained fingers clutched my jaw, digging into my flesh. He lifted my head and twisted my neck so that I could see his face with my left eye.
“Now listen here, you piece of shit. In case I haven’t made myself clear, stay away from Mia.” He sucked in a long drag and blew the smoke in my face, the noxious cloud suffocating.
“I keep telling her the same thing. Maybe she’s the one with the problem.” My voice was hoarse and strangled. I tried to smile but I barely managed a grimace. His fingers slipped away from my chin, and the back of his hand connected with my face. Blood pooled in my mouth, and I spit out the thick liquid. It exploded across Stephano’s face. His eyes flickered with disdain, and his weasel smile returned. He swiped at the blood with the back of his hand, smearing it across his face like war paint.
“You’ve been warned.”
With that, he turned his back to me and strolled towards his office, his two goons following suit.
“Stephano,” I gurgled.
The men ignored me as I called out again. The door to the office slammed violently behind them. Somewhere a machine came to life, the angry engine burying all other noise. I remained in the puddle, straining against the mud. I tried to push myself up, but my arms were numb and my body a shell of pain.
Through the fog, I could see him; a fuzzy shape that grew clearer as he approached. “Spots?”
Spots circled around me, his feet sinking into the stained mud. He whimpered and pushed his nose into my face. I winced at his affection and he fell back, his tail tucked between his legs.
Fixed Parts Page 1