Reckless: A Bad Boyz Anthology

by Anthology

  CHAPTER TWO

  AMELIA

  MOTHERFUCKER!

  I hiss, biting down on my lip to quieten myself as I look down at the angry red welt scorched across my ribs. If I had a dollar for every wound I acquired in this job then I would be an extremely rich woman in my own right. Instead, I’m not. I’m just a girl who pays a price for her birthright.

  I freeze, allowing the sting of antiseptic to seep into my wound and allow my thoughts to rapidly consume me. I knew that if I just stopped for one moment, even just for one second, my chasing thoughts would consume me in one fatal wave. My hand becomes slack at my side before falling away all together. My shoulders slump and my head falls forward. I close my eyes silently begging my mind to not do this to me, but it’s no good as memories of Zane Maverick collide as one in front of me with intense technicolor. All of the emotions I once lived come back at me with cataclysmic force.

  I lash out, hell bent on removing my emotional pain with physical one. The cut on my side bites as I send toiletries crashing to the ground from around the sink. But there isn’t a pain greater than the one locked in my heart.

  There’s only a two men I blame for this – my father and the love of my life.

  Both men with the ultimate power to destroy me and they did, but both with different intents. My life has been governed by loyalties and the one time I allow mine to fall with my heart, I choose the only way I knew to make it all happen – I chose my heart.

  For Zane, I struggled with myself, vowed to be a better person, but he was right. I will always retreat to my father and choose him because he is all I know. My life has been in my father’s hands since my mother was mercilessly killed by him and I was left with nowhere to turn.

  I thought that was going to change when I met Zane in a bar one night. I felt a love like no other and I put my all into keeping it while living a double life as my father’s Femme Fatale. Of course, it all failed once, I don’t know why I thought a second shot at happiness with Zane would end differently. I was a fool in love once, a fool in love twice, and a fool in love still. I could not cut Zane out of me even with the sharpest of blades.

  He was a wound that would never heal for me.

  It’s for that reason I know I have never been at this point in my life, a point where I hate to love someone so dangerously. This is unlike my feelings for my father; they’re now completely eclipsed by the broken girl Zane Maverick created.

  In all the years my father fought to make me something he could use, I never felt this pained by trusting my heart with a man I was warned about. Yet sitting here two months on, I can honestly say that I would give anything for just another moment to revel in what it was Zane made me feel. There would be no question on the matter; I would choose another day with him in heartbeat. Not so I can have another memory, but so that last time we were together wasn’t so full of hatred.

  As the thought begins to sink in and I feel myself hate the way I still love him, I know there’s only one number I can call – my brother.

  Shakily, I snatch my phone from beside the basin and the screen lights up. My finger hesitates for a moment as I’m greeted with an image of the man that brought me to my knees. He’s smiling face used to soothe me into the greatest of slumbers, but now I feel a pain so deep rooted that I know I’ll never be able to free myself of it.

  Calling Enzo becomes a last thought as I gulp back against the lump forming in my throat and know that it’s because of me my family is falling apart. I became the destructive element in everyone’s lives and I know that from the devoted beat my heart still skips at the very thought of Zane.

  I look at myself in the mirror before me. I’m no longer the girl who left America by force. She’s hidden beneath lifeless eyes, darkened circles and a gaunt exterior. It’s no lie that I haven’t done much in the way to look after myself. While here I’ve just strived to survive, to live each day as they came but in doing so, I’ve ran from all of those emotions I was bustled out of the country with.

  I’ve become a ghost of who I was and who I wanted to be, all because I let love in. No one teaches you the free fall you enter when the man you love breaks your heart and you never learn from it. You still set yourself up for that threat by allowing the same man in twice.

  I did it twice and now I’m exiled from my home to Italy to learn to the truest ways of being an Abbiati, of being a part of the Dio Lavoro.

  And the pang of pain that strikes a chord is all aimed at Zane. He has lived in me every day since I left, always there in the deepest recesses of my mind, the forefront of my heart, striking out in a kaleidoscope of emotions. He’s an ailment I’ll carry for life because in a way, Zane Maverick blackened my heart after loving me back to life. Telling myself I don’t love him and feeling it are not one of the same thing and they never will be. In my mind I hate him; in my heart I still love him.

  And that’s my biggest downfall in life and all because I trusted him to love every dark shard of me.

  He was what I saw as my end and my beginning. He knew what I was, knew what I had done and loved me to the point of making my dreams start to materialize, but in the same instant, he took each of those dreams and destroyed them the moment he forced me to leave.

  I killed for him, made my swan song happen, and it wasn’t enough.

  I was always taught to protect what I love and after I nearly lost him, I thought I would have an opportunity to avenge him and to show that no one touches what is mine. I just never imagined the magnitude of hate he would feel in payment.

  I killed for love and then in one day I lost the man I loved and my family to end up here – in hell itself.

  CHAPTER THREE

  ZANE

  MY FIST SITS in the broken plaster of the wall and I don’t rush to pull it away. Instead, I pull it free slowly, feeling more of the wall breaking away with my feat. Caving I fall against the wall, palms now flat, my forehead resting against the cool surface.

  I could beat a hundred walls and it would never take back that moment.

  My moment of despair will follow me like a weight tied to my ankle. I shattered not only my own life, but hers too and I can’t take that back. I haven’t even tried. Instead, I fought against all emotion and found pleasure in the bottom of a bottle. It was as the alcohol danced with my blood, and confused all pain with beautiful numbness that I knew I had found my new path in life – I was destined for this. I was made for rock bottom because lying there meant that I had nothing else to lose.

  I had already lost her.

  Don’t do this. Don’t turn your back on what we have like this.

  Her words still ring true in my ears as if she were here in person, telling me them all over again. The memories haven’t diminished, if anything, they’ve grown in clarity, gotten louder as the days pass. Her broken pleas will never disappear and they’re a torture I deserve. She promised to give it all up, but I never anticipated how deep she was and how long that would take for her to be free.

  Looking back, I hate myself even more for letting her go, for forcing her back into her father’s grasp. I was her get out clause and I walked away – no, that’s a lie. I didn’t walk away, I hand delivered her back into the bastard’s grasp. I’m just as bad as him if not worse.

  The thought of likening myself to the likes of Salvatore Abbiati make me feel sick. I feel disgusted with myself and my blood boils. I push myself away from the wall, stumbling somewhat as I fly into a rage. I hit out, taking all of the items on the sideboard and swiping at them so they fly off into a frenzy. The lamp falls, hitting the floor with the loudest crash and it causes me to sober up for a moment. I stand, my fists balled by my side, self-loathing a fiend wrapped around me.

  “Zane?” my name is called through the wooden door, muffled.

  I turn, staring at the slightly discolored panel before I stalk towards it. I grab the hand, pulling it open to reveal Enzo – her brother – at the door. Today just keeps getting better, I think as I back away and c
ross the room a little, allowing him to enter.

  “Wow, didn’t think you could make this place worse than it was,” he mutters, stepping into the room. He steps closer, immediately regretting it and taking a step back. “And you stink.”

  “That would be the bottle of bourbon I finished off for breakfast.”

  As if to make my point, I cross the room, heading for the bottle of liquor on the nightstand by the bed and pick it up with one swift swipe. I put the lip of the bottle to my lips and take the final lashing in the bottle, letting the minimal droplets tantalize my tongue.

  “I’m out, so need to get more,” I say, letting my hands – and the bottle – fall to my side.

  “Is this what you’ve become?” Enzo asks me. He pushes the door close, aiding the privacy of the moment and takes a few choice steps closer to me. “You’ve become an alcoholic asshole who trashes motel rooms.”

  “It’s a pretty fun lifestyle,” I argue, giving him a massive grin. “Really numbs the pain.”

  “And what about when you sober?” he asks, cocking a brow.

  I fix him with a pointed look. “Do I look like I’m going to attempt that?”

  Enzo watches me for a few moments before he breaks into an incredulous fit of laughter. It’s not for the humor of the moment; it’s too full of pity to be that. No, he’s seen me hit rock bottom and he knows full well I’ve accepted it.

  “She’d be so disappointed if she could see the man you’ve become...”

  “Oh, what does she matter?” I ask, throwing my arms out to aid the severity of my question. “I chucked her and this is the life I have for it.” I gravely allow myself to take on my own words. “I broke her heart and she made sure I knew I had to run. Even in those first few moments it registered with her what I was doing to her for the second time in our lives and she still loved me enough to save me. I deserve to drink myself to death.”

  “And she’d hate me for letting you,” Enzo states dryly.

  “Why are you bothering?” I ask him, stumbling backwards enough to slump onto the bed. It sinks with my weight, the springs struggling with the weight of a fully grown man. “You should be after my blood.”

  “That might be true but my love for my sister overrides and right now, I know she would appreciate me being here,” he tells me, sitting on the twin bed opposite. “You know, the only real reason I’m here is because I saw how you made her feel and if I could have the chance to see that back then I would do anything. I don’t know if it’ll ever happen, but I’d like to say I managed to make sure you didn’t drink yourself to death. She’d hate you doing this. She didn’t tell you to run to become this. You broke her, but she wanted you to stay alive.”

  I shrug, what’s done is done – I listened, I left, I drink - heavily.

  “How is she doing?” I greedily ask, knowing I have no real standing to do so.

  “I don’t know,” he tells me, a solemn look over takes his eyes.

  “What do you mean you don’t know?” I ask, my brow furrows. “You live in the same God damn house. You’re all under the same fucking roof. You must know how she is. It’s been over two months! You’ve got to be ly...”

  “She’s gone, Zane!” he snaps, interjecting my drunken ramble.

  I know he’s belted the words at me, but not one burrows itself into my memory. Why would I allow them? It’d be further verification that I fucked this one – again.

  “She’s not even in the country anymore. You need to get yourself together, Zane. She’s gone.”

  Now, I look at him – not as a drunkard, but as the man who broke his own heart.

  “She’s gone?” I barely manage, weakened by the thought of her gone for good. “Where is she?”

  Enzo crosses his arms over his chest, fixing me a look. I know he’s disappointed in me, maybe even loathes me for what I’ve done to his sister. I deserve the hate just as much as I deserved that punch.

  “She’s in Italy. Sal sent her away to clear her head. Right now, she’s not coming back. I don’t know anything else. We’ve not had contact with her. She’s just gone.” His words are spoken sharp enough to cut deep and I have to accept every ounce of resentment he may show. “You had your second shot, it’s over, Zane. Whatever you and Amelia had is gone.”

  “It’s not,” I argue, shaking my head furiously.

  “It is!” he roars, throwing his arms away from his chest in dismay. “Amelia is gone. Nothing you do or I do will fix that! She had her fun with you, but now it’s over. Sal won’t ever allow you near her, and if I’m honest, I doubt she’ll let you near her again.”

  “And I bet you wouldn’t blame her, right?” I ask, cocking a brow.

  “No, I wouldn’t,” he replies, deadpan. “You treated her like shit. That girl has done everything to please you. When you were shot, I saw that look on her face. She looked like she’d already lost you. Finding out you were alive only made her surer that she loved you and that she would fight for a future. I’m not here to deliver bad news, I’m here to help you. She loved you enough to save you, it’s time you get back on your feet and so you can save yourself.”

  “She killed those men,” I point out, still feeling sickened by the hellish twist in the truth. I ignored all he said, I just go back to that fateful night. “After she vowed she was done with your father’s bidding.”

  “And she was until the moment they tried to take you from her,” Enzo fights, his voice showing his desperate he is for me to understand. “Fuck, Zane, her entire life had been governed by what we are. You were the first real thing outside of her family she had. You gave her hope. When what we are threatened to take it, she had to strike.”

  “So you condone what she did?”

  “No,” Enzo argues. “But I understand it.”

  There’s a tense moment of silence as he watches me. I’m too stunned to even speak. A man as righteous and caring as Enzo Abbiati understands Amelia killing not one man, but three has me rocked to my core. I couldn’t see past the deceit, but yet he’s rationalized and understood it all.

  “Think you need to go and clean yourself up,” Enzo suddenly changes the subject, rubbing at his jaw as he stands up. “You stink. It’s time you pulled yourself together.”

  “It’s fun,” I reiterate my earlier sentiment to my new way of living. I follow him, standing up. “I don’t have any responsibilities this way. What would Amelia say if she could see what our love did to me?”

  “Fuck this,” Enzo swears and I sense him move.

  Before I have even a chance to look at him his fist collides with my cheek, forcing my head to swing around, my teeth colliding brutally and my body flying backwards. I land flat on my ass, the entire left side of my face, burning red hot.

  “Go take a fucking shower, Maverick,” Enzo says, shaking his hand, working out the pain that punch much have burnt his knuckles with. “I might be disappointed in you for what you’ve done, but I’m not prepared to watch you drink yourself to a grave after you broke your own heart because you were a fucking idiot.”

  I watch as he walks towards the shitty bathroom, he walks with aggression – his shoulders squared and hunched, his footsteps heavy on the filthy carpet. There’s the loud resounding creak of the faucet before the burst of water comes through the house, then Enzo’s coming back into the main room where I’m now sitting leaning against the bed.

  “Fucking male pride will kill all of us one day, you do know that?” he asks me and I nod, not sure if he’s muttering rhetorically. “What pisses me off was that you got your second chance, Zane! Do you know how many people would kill for that?”

  “Yeah, yeah,” I say, pushing myself up off of the floor. “I fucked up, it’s all good, Enzo, I’m well aware.”

  “Well, you see, that’s the thing,” Enzo states as he comes to stand before me. “I don’t think you do. Now, I’m going to go and get you some decent food, do me a favor and use that shower to sober up.”

  “Why are you here?” I say, slight f
rustration in my voice.

  “I told you why,” he says, heading towards the door. He puts a hand onto the handle only to pause. Turning back, he looks at me for a second. “Use this time to start deciding what you want in life, Zane. If you want Amelia, then you decide the best way. If you don’t, don’t spend your time rotting away in motel rooms off of the highway. Do something positive with the life she granted you.”

  “I think I ran out of chances. There’s no hope for me.”

  “That’s a whole load of fucking bullshit and you know it,” he retorts, scathing of my attitude. “She granted you the chance to run. You haven’t run very far... you’re meant to be getting away from all of us.”

  “Then why are you continually checking up on me?”

  “Because she asked me to keep you safe,” he replies, his tone sincere. “You might have broken her heart, but her love for you is far too deep to let you get yourself killed.”

  “What are you, my fucking guardian angel?”

  “No, right now, I’m the only man that gives a fuck about you,” Enzo replies. “Go shower, Zane, I’ll be back in half hour. Maybe then you might have some grand plan... go further South, settle down, go back to the police force, I don’t know... something better than this.”

  I watch him take his leave, jumping into his Ferrari without even a second glance at my wary figure in the door. I’ve got more than a little sobering up and I have to do it quickly. As he drives off, leaving dust to fly into the air, I wonder if there’s one thing Enzo neglected to think about that would help me here. The one thing that’s occupied my sleepless mind at night.

  What if I became one of them?

  For the girl I love I’d do anything – including getting blood on my hands.

  I already started to do just that when I took her heart and shattered it, why not continue?

  ***

  My eyes drifted away from the redhead as movement caught my attention. I allowed my vision to settle and focus before I truly acknowledged her before me.

  Amelia Abbiati - the one that stole my heart.