Angelica (The Family Book 1)

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Angelica (The Family Book 1) Page 6

by Jones, Angelique


  Closing her eyes, she leaned back. “You know, you’re the first friend I’ve allowed myself to have since I was ten. Not like you really gave me a choice, or that I had any other than family before you.” Letting a small smile briefly touch her lips before disappearing, as if it had never been. “My parents died when I was ten. My father was killed by one of his most trusted men and my mother was raped to death by my uncle and men who wanted her. They had me stay and watch as they each took a turn with her until she was all used up. She stared into my eyes the whole time, never making a sound. There were twenty-seven of them. I made sure to memorize each of their faces. After that, one of them took me to a room. I was the payment for helping my uncle betray my father. I remember sitting on the bed, calmly waiting for him. He closed his eyes to kiss me and I slit his throat with the knife I stole from my uncle. I remember I felt nothing when I killed him; not regret or satisfaction, just nothing. When I was finished with him, I went and slit my uncle’s throat as he was raping one of the maids.”

  Opening her eyes, Angie looked into Maria’s, letting her see what she really was. “You ask me where I go when I leave. You were right; it’s to see men. I find and kill every man who touched my mother. That’s what I’ve done since I was ten. I’m actually good at it. So good that there are only two left. My daddy always thought I was a little princess, while my mommy said I was an angel. I guess one of them was right. I am an angel, an angel of death.” Taking the camera from her purse, she leaned forward and dropped it into Maria’s lap. “They’re all dead. Watch it if you want to; delete it if you don’t.” Standing up, she walked over to Maria’s father and held out the phone. “The picture of the man who arranged for this to happen is on it. They did it to pay off a debt. I’m going to use the shower and get cleaned up; then I’m leaving.”

  Nodding his head to her, he said, “You should rest.”

  Turning, she walked away quietly, saying, “There’s no rest for the wicked.”

  Chapter 9

  As the water poured over her, hiding her latest sins, her family’s motto circled in her mind: Blood washes off. She was so tired. Tired of her life, tired of her duty. She felt almost as if she had rewarded the bastards she’d killed. They no longer had to deal with any of this; they were free. Pulling herself from the shower, she wrapped a towel around herself and braced her hands on the vanity, bowing her head. She was so tired. Squeezing tight, Angie did something she hadn’t done in years. She looked up. She looked up and faced the monster in front of her. There it was for the world to see, reflected in her eyes. It wasn’t tired; it still craved blood. Blood to pay for the sin done against its own.

  Pulling her gaze away, she mechanically rubbed the towel over her body and dressed. Securing the evidence of her night’s work in a bag to be burned, she left the bathroom. Maria was sitting on her bed, waiting for her, the camera clutched tightly in her fingers. Going to the bags she had left there the other night, she closed them. She was ready. Ready to move on. Ready to leave behind this brief moment in her life. It was for the best. Getting off the bed, Maria took one of the bags, silently following behind. “Please don’t leave,” Maria whispered when they reached the stairs. Ignoring her plea, Angie made her way down into the sea of men below.

  Avoiding their gazes, Angie turned inward as she descended. The cries of her victims crowded her thoughts. One voice fought for dominance and she let it, listening to his words over and over. “I’m sorry; we weren’t supposed to rape her, we were just supposed to kill her.” Why? Focusing on that voice, she remembered something else. “He just said his employer wanted the princess.” Then why would he want Maria dead?

  A hand gripped her arm, pulling her back to the now. She was at the door. Lucca blocked her way, while Maria gripped her arm. “Angie, Angie.”

  Shaking her head, she focused on Maria. “What?” Angie asked, her sleep-deprived mind already moving away, only half listening to her.

  “You can’t drive like this. You need to rest,” Maria said, practically crying as she tightened her grip.

  Staring at Maria, not really hearing her words, Angie’s mind kept repeating wanted the princess. Maria wasn’t the princess. Sudden clarity came to her, sharpening her gaze. She looked at the men filling the entranceway before her eyes came back to Maria, their intensity causing Maria to release her arm and take a step back. Before she could escape, Angie’s hand shot out, gripping Maria to hold her in place. “What’s your last name?” Angie hissed. Frightened at what she was seeing in her face Maria stood there dumbly until, Angie said it again, more sharply, almost yelling as dark thoughts crowded her mind.

  “Salvatici,” Maria finally whispered, saying what she dreaded. This was her fault.

  Releasing Maria’s arm, Angie stepped back until she hit the wall and let herself slide down. This was her fault. Everything that had been done to Maria was because of her. She needed Maria to finish it. She needed the final words. “You’re engaged, who are you engaged to?”

  “How did you know I was engaged? Angie, you need to rest. Your mind’s not working right.”

  She stopped Maria with a look. “Who are you engaged to?” She asked quietly in defeat.

  “Enzo Genovese. It’s an arrangement between our families, made when I was a child.”

  There it was. Closing her eyes, she leaned her head back against the wall. If she was still able to cry she would be weeping like a baby. Any life she touched she ruined. She was cursed. She bore the curse of her mother, the same curse the woman she was named for also bore. The curse of destruction, of death. She was cursed to have those around her look at her with want and envy, willing to destroy whatever or whoever to possess what wasn’t there’s. Momma had been named for Helen of Troy, and she should have named her the same. They were all damned to hurt those they cared for.

  Opening her eyes, Angie tilted her head until she captured the eyes of Antonio, Marias father. “The picture on the phone will be useless; it will lead you to a corpse and no farther. He’s too smart for that.” She had wondered why they were left alive after they botched the job. Now she knew. Turning back to Maria, Angie looked into her eyes, not hiding her guilt. “They weren’t supposed to rape you, they were supposed to kill you. That didn’t make sense to me until just now. They were told he wanted the princess, and I thought he meant you. That’s why it didn’t make sense.”

  Seeing the confusion in Maria’s eyes, she went on. “You turn twenty-one soon and your marriage contract is supposed to be fulfilled between your twenty-first and twenty-second year.” At Maria’s wide-eyed nod, she laughed; she couldn’t help it. “Enzo couldn’t break the contract without paying a hefty fine or starting a war, but if you were dead and you had no sister to replace you, he could keep your bride price. That’s why he didn’t care when they failed; he got what he wanted anyway. Your contract would say that you had to go to him as a virgin, no matter what. Now that you aren’t, he can refuse you, keep the bride price, and take what he really wants.”

  Sitting on the floor in front of her looking lost, Maria whispered, “What does he really want?”

  Pain rushed through her and she wanted to cry as she looked at Maria’s tear-ridden face, but she couldn’t. She couldn’t because tears had been beaten and tortured out of her long ago. She couldn’t because that place deep within that had once held her empathy was gone, leaving it an empty hole. So, instead of weeping with Maria or holding Maria, Angie stared into Maria’s eyes and said the one word that has been a curse since the moment of her birth. “Me. He wants me.” Maria was shaking as she looked at Angie in horror, a horror that her blood-covered self hadn’t brought. Angie owed Maria the truth. “His father was the first man I killed. Enzo wanted me for a bride and would have killed his father himself, but I beat him to it. He’s hunted me for the last ten years. It’s why I move around so much. He knows I’ve been killing the others and why, but he doesn’t care. He calls it my hobby.” Yeah, because she so enjoy being the monster she’d become.
“He has been profiting from my kills, snatching up territories and suppliers in the chaos after each death.” Stopping, Angie took a deep breath before she told Maria her shame. “Each time he finds me, he captures me, holds me, and plays with me. It’s why I told you not to touch me when I sleep. The only one who touches me when I sleep is him, and I have tendency to attack.”

  “Jesus Christ.” She heard the whisper but ignored it.

  “When I was younger, he would just strip me and beat me. He said it was so I’d learn who my master was. It was so I’d know who owned me. He was always careful when he hurt me. He was constantly learning new ways to discipline me without leaving marks. He told me how he practiced on others with knives, whips, belts, pipes. He said he would never mar my beauty.” Feeling like she was drowning, she added, “The first few years he would release me when he was finished. He enjoys the hunt and as he likes to say, this was our courtship. I was sixteen when he started touching me in other ways. Telling me I was his princess. At eighteen it got worse, if possible. He wanted to make me show something other than my indifference. Through the years, he had become obsessed with it. All the times he caught me, no matter what he did to my body, I never gave him anything—not a word, not a whimper, not my hate, not my pain, just indifference.” It was what had made her the perfect killer; ever since the night her mother had stared into her eyes, she hadn’t felt.

  “The last time he caught me I was nineteen. He killed one of his own men because he caught him staring at me. He gouged his eyes out for the sin of looking at what was his, than beat him to death. I barely escaped that last time. The doctor he brought with him each time he caught me was checking to make sure I still had my virginity had been careless, leaving a scalpel where I could get it. I waited for hours after that, until Enzo was finished with my latest session before I used it.” Angie laughed mirthlessly. “He couldn’t wait any longer for his virgin princess bride. I was going to stay. We were going to be married now, so I could bear his young.” She would have cut the foul thing from her body before she allowed his bloodline to mix with hers. “I was hanging from the ceiling in the wedding dress he had so carefully put on me when he went out to speak to the priest. I was able to use the scalpel to get free and escape. You know what’s funny?” Angie asked as she watched Maria shake her head. “The only reason you’re alive right now is because I escaped. If he had been able to marry me, he would have made sure you were out of the way so he could display his prize.”

  Crawling over to her, Maria put her head in Angie’s lap. Angie could feel Maria’s tears soaking through her pants, touching the skin they encased. Petting Maria’s head, Angie looked straight out at the wall across from her. “You know, you were right. If you had told me your last name, I never would have let you be my friend. I’m not a good person. After everything I’ve done, I’m not sure if I’m a person at all anymore.” She said smiling slightly at the memory of their first meeting. “There you were, and as I watched you, I knew you were what I once had been. You were what I would have been had my life been different, and I couldn’t say no. I couldn’t say no because I wanted. I wanted to be that person, even if it was only through you.” Pushing the hair from Maria’s face, Angie looked down. “But that’s not who I am. It’s not what I can ever be. I have to leave now, Maria.”

  “No,” Maria sobbed brokenly, pushing her face into Angie’s legs.

  “I’ve been here too long. If I stay any longer, he’ll find me, and I’ll die rather than let him own me.” Angie whispered forcing Maria’s face around to look at her. “I have to finish my mother’s work. Soon you won’t have to be afraid because he’ll be dead. He’ll be the last, because he’ll most likely kill me too. It’s why I haven’t taken care of him yet. He’s stronger than the others. He wants to own me, but he sees me for what I am. He’s careful, knowing a moment of weakness will mean his death at my hands. The only way to kill him is to let him possess me.” It had always been true; only buried deep in her body would she have had a chance. The problem was, once he knew she was no longer a virgin, things would be beyond worse than anything she had yet suffered. If she didn’t think of another way, she would have to slit her own throat before he caught her.

  Angie looked up and said, “Dominic, come take your sister.”

  “No, stay just the night. Stay until you’ve slept,” Maria screamed, holding tight as Dom tried to pry her away. Gripping Maria’s hands, she pulled herself free, ignoring how Maria struggled in her brother’s arms.

  “At least tell me your real name,” Maria whispered brokenly, hanging now like a ragdoll in her brother’s arms. “What’s your real name?”

  Standing up, Angie grabbed her bags, nodding to Sal as he opened the door. Maria’s screams filled the night as she left her question unanswered and got into the car. She hadn’t spoken her real name since that night. It wasn’t hers any longer. She hadn’t earned the right to use it again, and she wouldn’t until her work was finished.

  Chapter 10

  It had been three months since that night. The night Angie lost her only friend and her first lover. The darkness controls her now. She’s almost finished. Only Enzo remains. He hunts her relentlessly; only ever a step behind, his men follow. It’s time. Time to end their dance.

  She’s heading back now. Maria has turned twenty-one and her father is going ahead with the marriage. It’s a trap to lure Enzo to them. He cannot refuse; if he does, it will be admitting he knows she is no longer a virgin, something no one outside their family knows. He will wait, bringing his own doctor who will ask to have her examined to make sure the contract is properly fulfilled.

  His doctor now works for Angie; she hold his daughter and her child. When Angie is examined, he will lie and tell Enzo that she is still what he seeks.

  Driving along the road, it is deep into the night, but she can’t go to a hotel. They’ll find her if she does. A barely there dirt path peeks through the trees and she takes it, going deep within, hidden from prying eyes that may pass. Darkness surrounds her, the night silent. Letting her seat go back, she closes her eyes, knowing what awaits her……..

  The room is silent except for her mother’s labored breaths; she was dying. Allowing the wall to slide open, the little girl exits and walks to the door, closing and locking it before she looks at her mother. Weary eyes meet the little girls. Her mother knows it will be soon. Going to her, the little girl stares at her belly before retuning her gaze to her mothers. “You must take the child from my body, Angelica. It is the only way,” her mother says hoarsely. “Take him and leave this place. You will be his mother. You will find all the men who did this and avenge us, my daughter. When you are finished and enough men have died, you will take your son to your uncle Angelo. He will become his father. He will raise him as a son.”

  “Uncle Lorenzo is dead, Momma. I’ve killed him for you and Poppa.”

  She smiled grimly. “You have done well, my daughter. I go to your father in peace, knowing that he burns in the pits of hell. Listen well, my love; use your curse to finish your work. Men like those who rutted upon me shall be blinded by your beauty. It will be a weapon, one that you must wield as a knife, striking hard and deep.” Reaching out, she placed a weak hand on her daughter’s cheek. “I see the darkness in you. It is good; feed it and wear it around you like a shield. It shall be your comfort.” Grimacing in pain, she closes her eyes and places her hands upon her chest, as if she is already among the dead. “It is time, my child; finish it. I wish to go on to your father.”

  Placing a gentle kiss on her mother’s head, the little girl turns and climbs up upon her. Looking at the frightened maid, she says, “Close your eyes and don’t make a sound.” Turning back to what is left of her gentle mother, she takes the knife from her pocket, wiping the blood off on a shred of her torn dress. Carefully, the little girl holds it as she inserts it into her mother’s body, cutting her belly wide. Through the pain her mother doesn’t move, doesn’t make a sound. Pulling her open, the little
girl reaches in and removes her brother. “Go to that bag in the corner and get me what I need,” she tells the little maid, who stares at her in horror.

  Placing her brother upon her mother’s chest, the little girl climbs down, watching a tear fall from her mother’s closed eyes as she touches her son’s head. Opening them, her mother looks down, love, pain, and regret shining in them as she sees her child. Taking the scissors, the little girl cuts the cord, using a clip to tie it off. Everything they needed for a home birth was here. Her mother always made sure every possible contingency was covered; she always tried to be prepared. Taking the boy, the little girl cleans him and checks his airway, earning a health cry that she quickly shushes. Once he is wrapped, she brings him to her mother. “You remember all of the account numbers, don’t you?” her mother whispers weakly.

  “Yes, Momma, I remember everything.” Even at her young age, she was extremely wealthy, her mother making sure that if anything had ever happened she would be cared for. No one besides her parents and the little girl knew. She could access everything now. Everything that was left of her father’s empire was hers, though she couldn’t have it all until she took care of their enemies. Without her body, she could not be declared dead, so they could not get to it. Even Uncle Angelo wouldn’t have full access, though he would be compensated greatly for the work that he would have to do, but that is all. So many contingencies her mother had put in place, as if she knew this day would come.

 

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