Hmm. Whoever Tony was to this family, he was a good worker bee, apparently.
When Tony was long gone, Maddox turned to me, furious. His eyes were so dark they neared black. The half of his head that wasn’t shaved to the scalp was combed back, slick and greasy. I bet he’d look even better covered in blood… then again, I might just like blood a little too much. Sue me.
He said nothing, rushing over to me to pin me down on the couch, that same tattooed hand curling around my neck, as if I’d been a bad, bad girl by trying to fuck that Tony fella. He squeezed hard, and while someone else might’ve fought him, tried to struggle to escape his hold or even coughed out to breathe, all I did was smile.
“You think you can do whatever the fuck you want here?” Maddox hissed, his voice oozing acid, and I loved it. He was a mad thing, a beast wearing the skin of a handsome, sexy human. “You belong to us, not the other way around—”
My airways burned, but still I laughed. I laughed because this was great. Really, it was great. Laying there beneath him, his body all tattooed and covered in black clothing, his expression deadly, with nowhere to go… I was oddly comfortable, strangely at ease. Forget the pain his hand on my neck caused me, it didn’t matter.
Maddox was death incarnate, so much sexier than an electric chair could ever be. Was it wrong to want him to kill me? I would rather die staring into those soulless black pits than at a window to a room full of strangers.
I might’ve just met him, but Maddox was no stranger to me. How could he be, when he was just as insane as I was? Take one look at him and anyone would know it, and anyone who would try to deny it was an idiot of epic proportions. We were two lost creatures, trying to find our way in this world, and if he could end my ongoing search for finality, then more power to him.
His grip tightened even more on my neck, his body leaning down on mine. He still stood beside the couch, but he was practically crawling on it to loom over me, to assert his power and his dominance over me. “Why the fuck are you laughing?” he questioned, shaking my whole body with a jerk of the arm connected to my neck.
He only lessened the pressure to allow me to speak, and I wheezed out, “I don’t think anything I say right now will be what you want to hear, so why don’t you either take Tony’s place or kill me now?” Fuck me or kill me, quite the choice. I wondered which one he’d pick?
Maddox leaned down, hissing out the words, “You don’t ever fucking tell me what to do.”
I laughed again. What was he going to do? Drop me and walk away just to prove a point, that there was an option C? Come on. I didn’t have to feel his midsection pressing down on mine to know he was hard. I could see it on his face: he got off on this, on holding all of the power. Who could blame him? It was an intoxicating feeling.
The hand on my neck moved to my jaw, cupping it hard, so hard my teeth hurt, and he turned my head to the side, pressing his nose against my cheek, whispering, “You don’t mean shit here. You’re just a body, and the moment you stop being useful to us, I’m going to take great pleasure in ending your fucking life.”
My body shivered; I couldn’t help it. I’d never faced down a monster like him, and if I was honest, I kind of liked it. I wanted to see him work, to see him kill, but I would also be okay with him snapping my neck here and now. What a conundrum, huh?
“I can’t wait,” I whispered back, fighting against the hand to turn my head towards his. He didn’t want to let me, but maybe he was curious about what I’d do… or maybe he sensed the same thing inside me that I did in him.
Maybe me killing his brother had brought me right where I was meant to be.
Our noses grazed, his breath hot on my face. I breathed him in, the pure, righteous fury in his eyes, the hatred he had for me and what I’d done. An angel of death had me in his grip, and I knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, no matter how this thing ended, it would be biblical. I didn’t reach for him, even though my hands were free. This could go either way, and I was here for it all.
His lips danced across mine, brushing against my mouth with every word, “I’m going to make you regret ever laying a fucking finger on my brother. I’m going to make every single day of your life hell.” A whispered promise, not a threat. I had the feeling this man—and what a man he was—never wasted time with threats; only promises.
Whatever I would’ve said in response didn’t matter. His mouth crashed down on mine, kissing me hard, taking whatever pathetic amount of breath that was still left in my lungs and leaving me with nothing. Hand still holding onto my jaw, I could not turn away—not that I would—and heat flooded me in a matter of seconds, filling me up to the core every way possible.
I didn’t like kissing, but this… I’d hardly call it that. This was a tug of war between mouths, a battle for dominance that he would obviously come out the victor. This wasn’t sweet or tender in any way. This was hate and hunger rolled up into one.
His teeth found my lower lip, biting down so hard he drew blood, and it was only when he tasted that blood that he pulled his mouth off mine, giving me the harshest, most devilish look I’d ever been on the receiving end of.
My blood tasted coppery, but I said nothing, only running my tongue along my bottom lip and catching more of it. If he wanted me to cry out in pain, he’d have to do a lot more than that. If ever there was a crazy psycho bitch, it was me, just ask all of the men who’d died at my hands.
Maddox rolled me to the side, stopping me when I was on my stomach on the couch. He grabbed my legs and swung them off, spreading them apart. My dress was still bunched up from before with Tony, so all he had to do was pull my panties aside to get at me. With one hand tangled in my blonde hair, keeping my head down, pressed against the cushion, I heard him fiddling with his belt. Though he was a monster, he was a well-dressed one.
It was difficult for me to breathe while being pressed down onto the couch, but I didn’t care. I smiled to myself, grinned harder when the hand on the back of my head squeezed the hair it held. It felt like my hair was being pulled by the roots, but I was fine with it. There were a lot of things I didn’t care about, clearly.
Lola Harding was no angel, not anymore. She’d shed her wings the moment she left that house all those years ago.
“Is this what you want?” Maddox growled out, and in the next moment, a hard, thick cock pushed inside of me, almost violent in its entrance.
I gasped, tasting more blood from the bite mark on my lip, but I said nothing. How could I when his cock felt like a fucking ram, pile-driving me from behind? I couldn’t remember ever feeling so full, so speechless, all by a damned dick.
He began thrusting hard, paying no mind to how uncomfortable my position was. Maddox didn’t care, I knew, and that made it all the sweeter. Guess I was a glutton for punishment, because I wanted more.
The hand in my hair dropped to the back of my neck, fingers curling around me tightly, as if he owned me utterly and completely. In a way, he did. He and his family would decide what to do with me and when to get rid of me, and until that day came, it would be a wild, bumpy ride and I would be so here for it.
“I said,” he hissed, pumping that thick cock into me like it was his only job in the world, “is this what you want, you fucking bitch?”
Now, he best be careful, otherwise that might start to be a little pet name between us.
I tightened my inner walls on his cock as an answer, and he felt it. Oh, he felt it, because the next moment he let out a moan that was more of a growl than anything else. So fucking hot.
The couch under me scraped against the wooden floor as he fucked me hard, an animal, taking what he wanted. Hell, I didn’t even know if he wanted it, or if this was some misguided way of punishing me for coming on to Tony, but it didn’t matter, because either way, it felt amazing.
His thrusting became more brutal, savage in every way, and I could’ve sworn I felt his cock deep within my stomach. It felt that big, like my body was stretching to accommodate it. What a weapon he had
packing between his legs, huh?
Maddox came with a vengeance, his wide, muscular body bearing down on mine as his chest rumbled with a series of groans. The hand on the back of my neck tightened, and I allowed myself a single verbal cry, in sync with his. A part of me never wanted this moment to end, just because I didn’t know what would come next, but end it did.
He pulled out of me, shoving me as he released his hold on my neck, staggering back on his own two feet. I turned my head, watching as he put himself away, still tasting a bit of blood from his bite. Maddox glared at me with a hatred I could feel, and it made me smile.
He hated seeing me smile, I could tell, which was why this particular smile was so wide.
“Next time,” I suggested, sitting up and adjusting my panties before pulling down my dress to my thighs, “you should bring a knife.”
I must’ve caught him completely off-guard by that, for it was a few moments before he was able to say anything, and when he got ahold of himself, he just shook his head, said “Fuck you” under his breath, and walked out.
My heart raced in my chest, a byproduct of a wild session of sex, and I shifted my gaze to Mike, who still stood in the corner of the lounge, his arms folded across his chest. “Enjoy the show, big guy?” I asked, grinning as I noted the bulge in his pants.
This might just be fun after all.
Chapter Five – Sylvester
I realized I could’ve sent someone else to fetch her clothes, but for whatever reason, I felt like I had to do it, that I had to choose everything for her. Clothes for every occasion, because you never knew when we’d need to take over a club or meet under the darkness of the night for some illegal activity.
Most of what my family did, you see, was of the illegal sort, but in a city like this, it didn’t really matter. Half the police force was in our pocket, and the half that wasn’t was owned by the DeLucas. There were scant good cops here. Hardly any good people in general, really, and what good people there were tended to get swallowed up by the city and its people.
I was under no false pretenses. I knew I was not a good man, but when you compared me to Maddox, well, it was like comparing the devil himself to a demon that liked to hide beneath your bed and wait until you were defenseless before leaping out to attack. The devil didn’t care; he simply did what he wanted when he wanted. Maddox was bullheaded and rash, and his nickname, Mad Maddox, was earned when we were still children.
Me? Father always said I was lost in my own head too often, that some might mistake that for weakness. I didn’t know whether I agreed with him there; I liked to think I was more intelligent than Maddox and Mario in that respect. I didn’t charge in and demolish everything in sight. Why destroy things when they might be of some use later on?
Take the girl, for example.
Lola was her name, but she’d made a better name for herself around here and in the neighboring cities as the Night Slayer. She was a serial killer with over a dozen men under her belt. I didn’t know what her actual kill count was, because I was sure some of her victims weren’t popularized by the news or handled by our local police, but I didn’t doubt it was higher.
She wore a pretty face, with the biggest, most innocent blue eyes I’d ever seen, but deep inside she was nothing but a monster. Why throw her potential away when we could use her? The DeLucas were becoming more and more aggressive lately, pushing against our territory, trying to turn our own people against us.
I was sure once we made it clear we had a new secret weapon, they’d start to think twice about it.
The Night Slayer. A serial killer, by all means, and a killer of men especially. There hadn’t been any reports that I’d heard that said the Night Slayer had gone after women; she had it out against men, for whatever reason.
Who could blame her on that, though? Look at us. Each and every man in this city was a monster of their own choice, or of their family’s making. None of us were good people. Good people, in fact, were impossible to find here.
As long as she kept her head down and didn’t start shit, Lola would fit in well. The true test would be taking her out for a night on the town, so to speak, and then we would see whether we could use her in any future endeavors or if it was best to get rid of her here and now.
Lola had killed Mario. Little Mario, the youngest Luciano, the Luciano that tried to turn his back on the family, but who always wound up coming back eventually. Now, there would be no return, for he was dead, his body burned to ashes and now resting on my father’s desk. Truth be told, I was shocked that he’d agreed to give her a chance to repay her debt. Richard Luciano was not a man who forwent vengeance; sooner or later, he would make Lola pay for what she’d done, I knew. And I knew I couldn’t stop him. A part of me didn’t want to, because Mario had been my brother, too.
The blood of the covenant was stronger than the waters of the womb. The Lucianos might not be my biological family, but they were so much more than that. They had given me everything, treated me as one of their own. Hell, I couldn’t even remember my biological family. All I knew was I’d been homeless at the age of seven, wide-eyed and scared of the world. Richard had taken me in, finding me in an alley after some job.
I remembered the bright red blood splattered on the white collar of the shirt beneath his suit, the look in his eyes when he asked me why I was digging through the dumpster behind some club. Moments before, I’d heard what must’ve been gunshots, but the young me didn’t care. Young me was too hungry, too starving. I told him I was looking for food, and then he asked about my family. When I said I didn’t have any, not anymore, he took me in.
From that night henceforth, Richard Luciano became my father, and Mario and Maddox became my brothers. Though I didn’t look as they did, I became a part of the family, a cherished member, groomed to be what I was today.
Returning to the house, I left the bags in the car. I hesitated before going inside, recalling what had happened earlier, before I’d gone out shopping for clothes for her. I was walking down the hall, minding my own business, when I’d heard what sounded like muffled screaming coming from Lola’s room.
Now, I knew we were murderers and a bit psycho, but I did draw the line there. Though her life meant nothing to me, I would not see her used quite like that. Maddox probably would, but me? No. So, I’d gone in, expecting to see Viper on top of her, claiming her or something.
But he wasn’t. Viper had been standing in the corner, looking perplexed as he watched her writhe in her bed, all alone—and still very much asleep.
I’d gone to her side, shook her gently to wake her up, to bring her out of the nightmare that plagued her, and it struck me as so impossibly odd right then: how could a serial killer have nightmares? How could a girl who looked maybe a few years out of high school, a girl who had so much blood on her hands, succumb to night terrors? I didn’t get it.
Lola had woken up, but not before she fought me, as if I was the terror in her dreams. She managed to rake her nails down my cheek before opening those eyes and realizing it was me and not whoever, whatever she’d been dreaming of. I’d gotten angry, of course, because who was she to attack me? She was nothing. She wasn’t anything to me, to us, to our family, nothing but Mario’s murderer.
And then… and then I saw it. The change.
It was odd, but for just a split-second there, for just a moment, when I gazed down at her with claw marks burning on my cheek and rage building in my heart, Lola hadn’t looked like the crazed serial killer she’d been before. She didn’t have the fiery glimmer of defiance in her gaze nor the smug smirk she seemed to always wear.
She’d looked, for lack of a better word, young. Innocent. Lola had looked the very opposite of the person I knew she was, and it caught me so off-guard, all I could do was stare at her. My rage had faded instantly then. How could she seem so broken?
Coming up with buying her clothes, well, that had been pulled from my ass, but still. She did need clothes if we were going to take her out on jobs; she
couldn’t wear that red dress forever.
And, I’d noticed mere moments after she’d regained her usual demeanor, she hadn’t worn the dress to bed. I got a nice view of her tits, not that I should’ve looked—although, I would argue it was impossible not to, with how round and perky they were.
Standing before the door, I traced my cheek, where the scratch marks had been before. They’d faded into nothing by now, no more than a memory vivid in my mind; that was good, because if any of the others had seen them, they would’ve thrown a fit. Viper knew better than to tattle. He knew if I wanted the others to know, I would tell them. I trusted him.
It was hard to blame Lola for that when there was something so clearly haunting her. Whatever it was, I wondered if it was what had made her this way, what had shaped her into the serial killer she was today. The Night Slayer.
Perhaps, if she lasted that long, I would be able to find out what made her tick, but I honestly wasn’t certain whether or not she would. Maddox was not the only one who wanted nothing more than to see her dead. Nearly everyone in this family did. If Lola happened to come across our father in the house, well…
She’d be toast right then and there, and nothing I could say would save her from his wrath.
There was no point in prolonging this; I pushed into the house, unsure of what I’d find. Of course, it had occurred to me that leaving Lola in the house with everyone else while I was away was a bad idea. I was the reason she was still alive, the only reason she hadn’t met her death last night.
A part of me didn’t know what to expect as I walked through the house. I eventually emerged in the kitchen, a wide-open space with plenty of cabinets and a big, marble-top island. The Lucianos would never let their house go out of date; only the best for the biggest crime family in the city.
Tony stood with his arms crossed, leaning against the refrigerator. His light brown hair was a little ruffled, his green eyes dancing as they stared at Maddox, who stood on the other side of the island, looking angry. That was his normal expression, granted, but Mad Maddox seemed angrier than that, if it was possible.
Shadowed Heart: A Dark Reverse Harem Romance (A Death So Sweet Book 1) Page 7
