In a family like this, compliments were probably the last thing on everyone’s minds, but you know what? Compliments were a necessary part of life.
“Here, you know what? Let me try it on, then you can get the full effect.” I slipped my arms through the sleeves on the leather jacket, rolling my shoulders once it was on. Grinning at Vinny, I asked, “How about now?”
His eyes dropped, studying a lot more than just the jacket. I think he liked my legs. “It looks good.” The words were whispered so quietly I almost didn’t hear them. He was a bit more talkative than his brother, at least. Mike was as silent as someone could possibly be. I’d wondered if he was mute, but then I overheard him talking to Sylvester in the hall one time after Vinny took over the bodyguarding.
“Great,” I said, feeling like a regular old biker gal. All I needed was fishnets. Sylvester did get fishnets, didn’t he? I could put them on beneath these shorts, throw on some combat boots, and be ready to rock. “Zipped, or unzipped?” I demonstrated both, watching his expression light up a bit when I unzipped it again. “Unzipped. Right.”
Turning my back to him, I dug through all the bags again, searching for the one that held the tights. A bag filled with practically all the colors, it took me a while to dig through them to find that, indeed, Sylvester had bought me fishnets.
Awe, yeah. This bitch was about to rock.
I got to my feet, tearing at the wrapping and tossing the clear plastic on the floor. After dropping the opened fishnets onto the bed, I went for the button on my shorts. As I undid them, I met Vinny’s eyes, catching him staring at me. A smirk grew on my lips, and I was slow in tugging them down my legs and stepping out of them, wearing nothing but the t-shirt, leather jacket, and my panties.
With a wiggle of my hips, I asked, “See anything you like?”
He shook his head, though I knew he wasn’t shaking it because he didn’t see anything he liked. I bet he saw a whole lot he liked, but I was the one who killed Dickless, their precious Mario. As if the little bitch didn’t deserve it. I bet I wasn’t the first girl he’d taken home; I did all those girls in the past and any future girls a favor.
Besides, Dickless had been cute, but he had nothing on any of these sexy beasts.
I shrugged and began yanking on the fishnets, tugging them up my legs. Once they were on, I gave them a few tears in random places, and after my shorts were back on, I looked like a badass.
Giving a little twirl amongst the bags on the floor, I said, “Can’t you see me going for a ride on the town?” Vinny didn’t answer, not like I expected him to, so I wandered to the window and peered out.
This house was more like a mansion, three stories high and built with rooms to spare. It was probably one of the biggest houses in the city, on a block with sprawling green grass and acres of privacy. My room was on the second floor, high enough that I could see the road a few hundred feet away from the house, its long, paved driveway winding. The city where I’d spent my time these last few years sat in the distance, a few skyscrapers miles away. This wasn’t a big city, but it was big enough for me to make myself a name.
“Why?”
Vinny’s voice, suddenly so close to me, jerked me back into reality, and though the world outside was getting darker by the minute, I could see Vinny’s reflection on the glass just behind mine. He must’ve moved silently to get closer to me, without a single noise even though the floor was a landmine of plastic bags and tissue paper.
“Why what?” I asked once I regained my composure. Vinny was quiet like a snake; I literally didn’t hear a single footstep. How the hell did he navigate the room so noiselessly? Maybe that was why they called him Viper: not only did he like snakes and have a bunch tattooed all over him, but he also took after them in how he moved.
His hazel eyes were on me, his brows furrowed. He stood less than two feet away, the closest he’d ever gotten to me on his own. Me? Personal space was for losers, or people who cared. I’d long since stopped caring, and I’d never been a loser.
Vinny looked as if he couldn’t get a read on me, and I took great satisfaction in that. “Why did you do it?” he clarified, gazing intently at me, as if I was the only other person in the world, the only thing that could currently hold his attention.
Vinny didn’t need to clarify beyond that, but still… I couldn’t fight the strange feeling rising inside of me under his gaze. Almost like—well, almost like I felt a bit guilty, like I did something bad that I wasn’t supposed to—which was ridiculous in and of itself, because I never felt guilty. I killed because I was saving others, because I had no remorse, because I didn’t care.
Even if I got things wrong, even if some of my victims were not the douche-canoe players I assumed they were, I didn’t care. Why should I? The world didn’t care about the girls who were raped by the rich guys, by the football players or the school athletes.
Why should I give a shit when the world didn’t care about me?
“I don’t think any answer I can give will make you feel better,” I whispered, turning away from the window to meet those pretty hazel eyes. Some hazel eyes, the colors kind of blended in, but his? I could pick out the brown flecks around his irises, the green base beneath, and the blue rims holding it all in. Truly, they were such pretty eyes, multicolored in the best way.
“I don’t care,” he said, grabbing my arms suddenly, too quickly for me to dodge him, to avoid those grasping hands. His fingers curled around the sleeves of my new jacket, the leather squeaking beneath his grip. “Why did you do it?” Vinny held onto me hard enough to leave bruises on both arms, but I didn’t care. My lip still hurt a bit from where Maddox had bitten me. I’d probably be nothing more than a collection of bruises by the time this family finally decided to kill me.
When I didn’t answer immediately, Vinny shook me, as if shaking me would put some urgency into me, but it didn’t. It didn’t, because as I gazed at him, I knew he was trying to find the answers that would make it all better.
Those answers, you see, didn’t exist. There was never a perfect reason, never one thing that would make everyone suddenly understand why you did what you did. When a white boy shot up a school, people had a chorus of things they usually said.
He was a quiet kid. A bit of a loner.
He had friends.
He’d been pulling away from everyone lately.
Maybe his brain is messed up, maybe he didn’t know right from wrong. He’s sick.
But the harsh truth of it all was, there was no perfect, unifying reason why people did what they did. Each and every person in this world was different; you could not judge them all the same. Sometimes we did what we did simply because we could, but that wasn’t what society wanted to hear.
I shook his hands off me, giving him a look I hoped was deadly. When I was sure he wouldn’t grab me again, I reached for the bottom of my shirt, pulling it up to reveal my stomach and the long scar trailing down my belly button.
He probably didn’t know what it was. Maybe he thought someone tried to harvest some organs or something. Who could say what went on in Vinny’s head when his stare dropped to look at it. He’d gotten flashes of it before, while I changed, but never had he been so close, never had he studied it so intently.
Doctors didn’t have to do it this way anymore. There were much less invasive ways to do what they did, but, alas, this was meant for me. To punish me, as if I was the bad one. As if I’d asked for all of it.
I didn’t. Who the hell would ask for something like this? Who the hell would want something like this? What happened to me… I wouldn’t wish it upon anyone, even my worst enemy. There were other, much more creative things to do to my enemies.
“I learned a long time ago there’s no such thing as a good man. Everyone tells lies, everyone wears a mask. You think your Mario was some angel? He wasn’t.” I dropped my shirt, watching as his eyes sluggishly rose to meet mine, no longer staring at my scar, at the one imperfection on my body, the one part of me that
constantly reminded me of my past—the thing I continually tried so hard to forget.
Vinny shook his head once. “Mario wasn’t like us. He didn’t want anything to do with his family or his legacy. It’s why he had his own place, why he went off on his own. You killed a good man.”
I wanted to laugh; I guess a part of me inside did, but in the face of this man, this man who was demanding answers from me, I could only sigh. “Good men don’t take home drunk girls hoping to score.”
He gave me a look that told me I was crazy. “That’s why you chose him? Who doesn’t want to take a drunk girl home—”
Before I was able to think better of it, I shoved him. I shoved him hard, his words instantly causing me to reach my breaking point. Wrong move, I knew it the moment I did it, but I didn’t care.
Vinny sneered, and the next moment one of his tattooed hands wrapped around my neck. He slammed me against the window, knocking my head hard. No doubt he planned on lecturing me, on telling me I shouldn’t have done that—to which I’d just roll my eyes and say obviously—but even with his hand around my throat, I was able to speak first, unable to let his previous statement go.
“No man has a right to make that choice for a girl,” I hissed out, baring my teeth, being, in general, very unladylike. What had happened before, when Maddox had caught me coming onto Tony, that wasn’t what I was talking about. As I’d mentioned before, no one could steal something that was freely given, but those other girls in the clubs and bars? The other women who’d had one too many and weren’t able to think with clear heads?
The hand around my throat loosened but didn’t let go. Finally, I saw, I was getting through to him. Vinny was finally realizing what it was I meant, why I chose my victims as they were. Turn the tables and play a little game where the hunter was the prey, the odds were reversed, and the black widow always won.
“So,” I finished, “forgive me if I don’t think your precious Mario was a good guy.”
He pulled his hand off my neck, though he did not withdraw himself from me. My back still leaned on the window, his tattooed body blocking my escape. Not that I would run; me and fleeing never went together in the same sentence. “Are you really ready to die for what you believe in?”
I stared at him for a few moments, my heart starting to race, for whatever stupid reason. It couldn’t have been because he was an attractive guy; I’d killed pretty guys just as easily as I’d killed the not-so-pretty ones. A handsome face never caused me to waver, nor did a tattooed body, or muscles…
Maybe it was because he was so close, because I knew my time was ticking. Tick, tick, tick, ever the bothersome bitch, my clock winding down to the point where it would no longer wind at all. Maybe it was because I knew tonight would be it for me; hell, for all I knew, there might not even be a job. This might all be a ruse.
“Aren’t you?” My question was whispered, an answer in and of itself. Was I ready to die for what I believed in? Of course I was; what fool would take a stand for a cause and not be ready to give their all to it?
Vinny’s expression softened—not by a lot, but by enough. Enough that I saw him relax, saw the confusion, then acceptance in his hazel gaze. He turned his head, eyebrows creasing, the man lost in his own head by my reply.
Because this was a side of Vinny I’d never seen before, I decided to press the subject. “Surely there must be something you believe in so much you’re willing to die for it. Don’t tell me you’re a man without a cause. You know what they say about those? If you stand for nothin’—”
“You’ll fall for anything,” he finished, turning his face back to me. I would give anything to be inside his head, to know what he was thinking as he stared at me right then. Had he just peeled back a layer or two of mine? Did he get to see a hint of the real me and not the front I put on for the world?
I guess we’d never know.
He moved his body closer to mine, pinning me against the window hard. My breath caught in the back of my throat, and for a split-second, I wondered if he’d take a page out of Maddox’s book and take me here and now. Surely Mike had told him what Maddox had done to me; I doubted our little violent session on the couch was a secret.
He was certainly well-built beneath his dark clothes, wasn’t he? A square jaw so sharp it could kill, a nose that was slightly crooked, as if it’d been broken in the past. All those viper tats, covering almost every part of him… I wondered how many more he had on beneath that shirt, under those pants. And then, since I was wondering what he looked like naked, I couldn’t help but think about that one-eyed snake between his legs, if it was anywhere near as impressive as Maddox’s.
They weren’t related, but you never knew. A guy with a quiet intensity like Vinny? I wouldn’t doubt he was packing some heat that would make any pussy explode with orgasms.
God, I could go for some orgasms, myself. Sadly, in the past, I’d found it was easier to depend on myself for those. Cocks were easy things; if you knew how to stroke it, you could lead any guy to erupt. But a pussy? A clit? It was a puzzle very few guys had put together, an enigma wrapped in a conundrum they just couldn’t seem to understand.
I partly blamed the shitty American health classes you had to take in high school and junior high; you pretty much learned everything there was to know about dicks, but learning anything about what a girl had between her legs was asking too much of the system. Besides, girls never masturbated.
Heaven fucking forbid we females took control of our sexuality and fuck whoever we want, whenever we want, including ourselves.
“You could’ve made a name for yourself,” Vinny whispered, his breath warm on my face, furthering the heat that had begun to creep along my body when he leaned into me. “You could’ve been anything.” He paused, holding his breath as he reached a hand between us.
My eyelids fluttered shut when I felt his hand graze the bottom of my shirt, fingers dancing along the waistband of my shorts. Those fingers flattened upward, curving along my stomach, tracing the scar resting there. My instinct said to push him away right then, that he was suddenly too close and I didn’t like it, but shoving him was what got me this close to him in the first place.
“You could’ve gone to school, gotten out of this town,” Vinny whispered, his hand still touching the most tender, intimate part of me—surprisingly not my cunt. “You could’ve been anyone, Lola.”
His words were almost too nice, too sincere, and beyond that, they were incredibly wrong. So wrong, I wanted to laugh in his face. He thought I could’ve gotten out? Coming to this town was me getting out. He saw the scar on me, but he had no idea what it was for, how it got there, and why it made me want to rip off my own skin and become someone else.
Fuck being a Harding.
“But instead you fucked with the wrong family.” Vinny let his hand fall away, finally giving my stomach room to breathe.
And, yes, my stomach needed room to breathe.
I gave him a smile, although I was sure he didn’t see it since his face was so close to mine.
I did, that much was true. The Night Slayer was the name I’d made for myself; I didn’t need any other name, but I allowed myself to daydream. “Maybe I’ve been looking for a way out,” I murmured. Oh, yes. Maybe this was all a happy accident where me choosing Dickless as prey was concerned.
“You got some kind of death wish?” Vinny tilted his head, as if studying me in a new light. “Do you want to die?”
The smile I wore fell, breaking into dozens of tiny pieces as a pained expression crossed my face. I breathed in, lifting a hand and setting my palm on his cheek. Such soft skin on such a burly, ripped, tattooed man. “I want a lot of things, Vinny.” A lot of things I’d never get, but such was the misery of life.
As the great Rolling Stones said it, you can’t always get what you want.
I should take my hand off his face, but I let it linger. It was nice to not be at odds with someone here, for once. To be close to someone and not feel the hatred rippl
ing out of their pores like a storm surge of animosity. It was nice to simply exist, for a little while, here with Vinny, to know those hazel eyes were on me and not glaring as they rested on me.
A bizarre thought came to my head then, a thought that came out of nowhere and startled me to my core: I could kiss him right now.
More than that, though… I could kiss him right now and not be bothered by it.
That was a strange thought if I ever had one, certainly, because kissing was too intimate. Kissing was raw. I’d had Maddox’s lips on mine, but that wasn’t what I’d call a kiss. That had been him fighting to display his dominance over me, the mad Luciano cementing the fact that his family owned me utterly and completely.
But if I kissed Vinny right now, if I closed the distance between our mouths, it would be a real kiss, so unlike the angry heat Maddox had given me.
And then, of course, reality came crashing down. Vinny didn’t want to kiss me. Why would he, when I’d killed someone important to him? These guys were all something else, something out of a dream and a nightmare all at once, and I had done the one thing that meant I could never truly be theirs, not in the way I wanted, in that split-second.
Vinny’s head turned toward my hand, and I felt his lips on them—softer than I’d imagined, too—but only for a few seconds before he pulled himself away, returning to the doorway of my bedroom, once again my bodyguard and nothing else.
I smiled to myself, even though I felt like screaming, like breaking something. I hated that I was like this, hated my past and how it made me who I was today. If I was normal… well, if I was a normal gal, I supposed I never would’ve gotten these guys’ attention to begin with. I was only here because I was the Night Slayer. Couldn’t let myself forget that tiny tidbit.
I was the Night Slayer, and tonight I’d be walking into my own grave.
Chapter Seven – Viper
We drove in separate cars. I took Lola, our Night Slayer, the Luciano’s pet, for the time being, while Sylvester and Maddox took another vehicle. She sat next to me, in the passenger’s seat, her mouth clamped shut, her lips not smirking or making any sort of rude comment, unlike how she was normally.
Shadowed Heart: A Dark Reverse Harem Romance (A Death So Sweet Book 1) Page 9
