SAVAGE POET: A Dark, New Adult and College Romance

by Jax Hart

  I thought sacrificing my soul was worth it. But that day it wasn’t. The three of us knew it was on us. Those lives lost. Those kids who would never live. It wasn’t a simple war between the five families anymore. We were doing global shit and sin and it was too much, even for us.

  “We can’t go on like this.” Vito took a drag. The six months he’s spent here has aged him. Fine lines marred his eighteen-year-old face. His brother, Geno was ten months younger than me and he looked like shit too.

  “I know. I have a plan.”

  “It’s more than Constantine against us. It’s the Castellione crew… the other families… he lied to you Roque. Instead of setting you free all he did was make you a slave for life.”

  I gritted my teeth. I was cocky and full of arrogance when I swaggered into his lair. He did fulfill one promise though, I learned everything from the ground up. I listened, watched, and made a million mental notes. He set me up better than I could ever imagined. All I needed was to break free.

  “America. We’ll make our move there. When we overtake Chicago, we’ll come back to Italy. They will all pay.”

  “How? They’ll kill what’s left of our family.”

  A ghost of a smile played with my lips as I exhaled watching the smoke rise up.

  “Constantine is an old fool. Too busy sucking his own dick to see what’s been happening right under his nose. I know his safe combination, every bank routing number… all the details to break us free.

  We end Reggie and the rest of the men. Slit their throats in their sleep. I’ll snuff out the old bastard. He’s mine. We’ll use his cash and connections to get the fuck out of Italy. Take your Ma and crew, we’ll start fresh in the states. Become Americans. Lose our accents. Get properly educated. The day will come when the Salvatore’s come back and when we do—I’ll slay them all.”

  “All the families?”

  “Anyone who won’t bend a knee.”

  We finished our smokes all the while drunk on thoughts of freedom. We planned and executed. In less than a week it was time.

  I dressed in the finest suit he had gifted me, went down to the study and made a fire. I took the poker in my hand, fed it to the flames until the tip was orange with flame. I walked into his room.

  I stood over him.

  My maleficent presence alone awoke him from slumber. He wasn’t surprised. The fucker had the nerve to smile. “Finally, at last. Free me, my son. I want to walk again, even if it’s over the hot coals in hell.”

  Death was too good for him. It was what he yearned for. I dragged him out of bed, wheeled him out into the cold and into the barn.

  “Strip.” I commanded.

  His hand’s shook as he did. Naked, pale and withered, I dumped him from the chair into the hole.

  “I succeeded. Don’t forget I made you in my image, Roque. I’ll live on through you.”

  I handed the poker to Vito. “Make it burn again.”

  “As you will, il sovrano.” He referred to me as the ruler.

  Constantine watched helplessly when Vito came back. “Kneel,” I commanded.

  “Fuck off.”

  I jumped into the pit with the poker in hand, the tip of my boot found his ribs. Blood dripped from his mouth shortly after.

  One hand moved his legs, contorting them into a kneeling position. Lowering the poker, let the tip graze his right eye. Then his left. Then I wrote my name in cursive all over thin skin on his back.

  Disgusted at how he screamed, I spit on him before using the ladder Vito lowered and left the pit.

  “You’re weak and screamed just like the rest when it comes down to it,” I sneered. “Enjoy the slow descent into hell, old man.”

  “I’ll save a spot for you,” he rasped before I slammed the door shut and slid the bolt.

  “What next?”

  I turned to Geno and Vito. “We get the fuck out of Italy. Hide out somewhere. Become someone else.”

  Geno and Vito left for the coast to gather my aunt and the rest of her kids. I stayed behind to pilfer what I could—guns, money, art.

  I packed it all up.

  Then I sat in Constantine’s desk and called a banker in Palermo. “Buongiorno. I’m calling from the Castellione estate in Lake Como. I’d like to inquire about two houses in Palermo. The old Salvatore residence and the Fiorelli’s.”

  Silence greets me. “Those houses are both cursed.”

  “I know.”

  “They sit in ruin. Untouched tombs.”

  “Who owns them?”

  “The city. No one paid taxes and no one will buy either.”

  Thinking quick, I scanned the amount of money in Constantine’s account, offering a quarter of it for both. The man laughed. “You’re a fool. But a rich one.”

  He faxed over the paperwork the following morning. I forged Constantine’s name. Then shortly after, forged his name on a new will by delicately using a tracing technique.

  Upon his death, all his riches will be left to a variety of charitable foundations.

  Both houses will be given to me. An anonymous American-based foundation that was conveniently set up hours earlier now owns both properties. The foundation is a fraud. Just a name on paper, “Little Red Enterprises.”

  I used Constantine’s money to pay off crooked lawyers. The ones my family used for years. They took quick money and asked no questions. Then I set up my new name.

  Ralph Smith.

  Bland. Utterly American and absolutely a forgettable name. Even if the remaining families came looking, they’d never find me.

  Opening the briefcase Vito left, I found the vials of blood and the two teeth that each of my cousin’s extracted. Seeing a dentist later would be the least of it.

  Finding pliers, I pulled out a lower tooth. It hurt like a bitch, but it was nothing compared to the torture I underwent to become who I was now. Then I collected my things and drove to where they left the car by the side of a back road. I carefully placed my tooth in the front and theirs in the back, splattered our blood and set the car ablaze. It’d look like it was a hit. Us. Constantine. His men. All of it. The families will fight amongst themselves each pointing the finger at one another while I rode off into my dark sunset for a land where I know she lives and breathes.

  “I’m coming, Little Red. I told you I would.” My words were whispers carried on the back of the wind as they traveled through the starry sky and hopefully landed a world a way to where she was.

  I’m not in love.

  Obsessed or pining.

  She’d just become my talisman. My good luck piece; a part of me as much as all of my past.”

  I close the journal to take a break, poured myself another drink, and stared out the windows.

  “Shortly after we arrived in America we moved to Chicago. More Italians in Chicago. No one paid us any mind, after all the Italian no longer ran here. It was street gangs and crooked politicians that ruled. But not for long. We took college classes at a local community college at the same time I aced my GED. Constantine was a whore for Greek Mythology, Plato, and Aristotle. The Ancient Romans fascinated him. He made me learn Latin. My training was twenty hours a day of sheer hell. My own family paid the best tutors money could buy while I was still their prince. I had over a decade of the best teaching in every known subject matter known to man.

  Getting accepted into Princeton was a cake walk. Especially when I paid my way in Aunt Becky style. No one asked questions about my missing year, my lack of formal education, or the fact I wasn’t a varsity NCAA athlete.

  My IQ score stood on its own as well as my SAT.

  I was a fucking deviant genius, the kind the world only sees every thousand years or so. I was primed to be the living legend I believed I was since birth.”

  I stop my trip down memory lane to clear my throat.

  Chloe snorts. “Well you definitely have the record for the biggest ego the world’s ever seen. Did you find her right away?”

  “No. She found me.”

&nb
sp; She burrows into the blanket with wide, excited eyes. “Please tell me she kicks your ass!”

  “Open the next journal and find out…”

  7

  I’d have to sneak out. There’s no other way. Zio would have a shitfit if he knew what I had planned. But I’ve waited almost a decade to see Roque in the flesh. It’s not the right time to sever his artery but a death by a thousand cuts is more painful anyway.

  I didn’t even recognize myself. There’s no way Roque could even if he remembered the slightest details about me.

  When we moved to New Jersey so I could study my mark, it took a lot of pleading on my part to convince Zio I could control myself to be this physically close to Roque without making a move prematurely. I fooled Zio. Or maybe I fooled myself. When I overheard the cheerleaders in the locker room today brag about getting a coveted invite to the homecoming party at a frat house in Princeton, I knew it was my chance.

  I’m stalking Roque as hard as I can without being noticed. I’m a ghost. His ghost from hell who’s haunting him. I just haven’t come out to boo him yet. But I will. I reached under my mattress and slid out the manila envelope. My hands shook as I pulled out the eight by ten glossies of the man who’s had my insides in turmoil for years.

  My PI is good. The best. Because she’s a woman who people look past. A ghost. Just like me.

  He’s changed his name to Ralph Smith.

  Ralph Smith?!

  It’s so... American and as sexy as a wet noodle. He’s trying to hide who he is. Live a normal life while earning an Ivy league degree. Probably so he can learn how to cheat the tax system even better. Or launder his money into legit businesses. I sit in my sophomore high school class while he sits in his sophomore business class; worlds away still and yet our parallel universes are about to collide.

  My finger traced over his strong jaw… lingered over his eyes captured in time as he looked over his shoulder feeling eyes on him but unable to find the source.

  “That’s right. It’s me baby. The girl you left in the woods.” I taunted, lifting the corners of my mouth as I stared at my sexy as fuck nemesis. Thanks to my private eye, I knew his schedule, where his frat house was, his sports schedule, with a list of all the college girls who leave his house at two a.m...

  My hands clenched, bending the edges of the picture in my hands. It burned me how much blood is on his hands and yet he lives as if he’s just some normal frat boy. But he’s never been normal. The life we were both born into couldn’t be anything further from it.

  Zio agreed we should move closer to Roque to keep him close. Watch. Wait. Listen. Learn. But I’m tired of it all. Tonight, I’ll be close enough to breathe the same air he does… my heart picked up speed. My nerves were at the cliff’s edge. I tried convincing myself it’s all hate, but as I stared at his stupidly handsome face—I feared it might be more. And I hated myself for it. Lust and want are a weakness I couldn’t afford especially on the man who once held my life in his hands.

  Brushing my dark chocolate dyed hair until it fell down my back in waves, I turned checking out my ass in the mirror. I still have a small frame but all the training I’ve been doing for the last eight years has given me one hell of a Brooklyn ass if I do say so myself. It’s high and firm and the one trait I have that’s gotten more boys at my high school a swift kick to their balls when a few attempted to brush a finger across a cheek in the halls.

  My dark red matte lipstick was the color of blood; symbolizing what’s between us. My eyes were a weird shade of dark brown thanks to the colored contacts disguising my emerald eyes that surely would glitter with hate tonight.

  We’ll breathe the same air tonight.

  I’m the wolf and he’s my prey.

  Smiling, I tucked my cell and a tracking device into the back pocket of my jeans. Carefully, I hid two small digital transmitter devices inside my sock. He’ll never see me coming. I zipped up my hoodie, hiding the skimpy tank top I wore underneath. My tits were still tiny, but there’s not much I could do about that.

  Zio was asleep in his chair the remote dangled from his hand. My heart hurt just looking at him. Every morning and every night I find myself staring at his chest, praying to see the movement of his breathing. I know he won’t be around much longer and even though I’d lost so much in my past, Zio was the only constant in my life. My fists clenched. I needed vengeance soon. I wanted Zio to witness its sweetness. It wouldn’t be as fulfilling unless he’s here watching my moment of glory as the head of the Salvatore line falls.

  Bending to give him a quick kiss on the top of his head, I grabbed the afghan off the couch and draped it over his lap. If I’m lucky, I’ll be home before he awakes, and he’ll be none the wiser.

  Gingerly, I pocketed the fob key to the Explorer sitting on the counter as well as a few twenties from Zio’s wallet. My heart beat a million times a minute. This must be what it feels like to be on speed. But my drug is twice as potent.

  “No. No way.”

  “What?”

  “I’m not going to be seen with you in public with that hair and that sad outfit.”

  I rolled my eyes at Tati. “I’m fine.”

  “Not to go where we’re going tonight. Princeton is the big leagues… if we get made as high school girls…,” she trailed off shuddering. “I hear one of them is a drug-lord or some shit. Stop rolling your eyes at me.” She smacked my arm.

  Tatiana is gorgeous. Like drop-fucking dead. Her mom is Black and her dad, Cuban. I’d never have her pale shade of mocha with the best spray tan on the planet. My cheap drugstore dye job hair would never take a curl to match her natural ones.

  “Sit.”

  “No.”

  “Yes.” She pushed me down. “Mom’s out having a girl’s night. We can raid her makeup and tools.”

  “She’s going to kill you.”

  “It’ll be worth it. I’ve always wanted to get some bronzer and my mom’s pro curler on you.” Tati’s mom owns a chic salon in Princeton. She gives Tati some things but her own personal stash of beauty products in her home she’s pretty anal about. “I’ll be right back.”

  “Fine.” I sighed, sitting down stubbornly. Maybe she’s right. I want to blend in and I sure as shit do not right now with my $4.99 dye job and baggy clothes. The cheap drugstore dye was surprisingly the only thing that could hide the vibrant red in my hair. Ever since puberty, it had grown redder and redder. It’s a flame. A symbol of the burning fury deep inside me. But I had to hide it. Mask it. Until it’s time to let it burn.

  “I’m going to make you look so damn hot girl, whoever this mystery frat boy you have your eye on is going to drop dead.”

  “Good.” I smirked. “Because that’s exactly what I want.”

  Tati got to work twirling my hair in a hot iron and left it hanging down in loose waves. She brushed a pale bronzer on my face and painted my lips a pretty shade of dark pink.

  “No.” I balked when she held up a pair of false lashes.

  “Yesssss.”

  “Ugh, fine.” I snapped.

  Resigning myself to my fate, I closed my eyes and let Tati work her magic.

  “Done.” She uttered in a sing-song voice.

  My eyes popped open. She transformed me from a mousy girl in hiding to… someone who can’t be missed. My hair was thick with sexy waves. My brown-colored-contact eyes looked wide and sparkly with the expert eye makeup she put on. I could easily pass as a college freshman. “Now your clothes.”

  She opened her closet door, taking out a shimmering black tank.

  “I have no boobs.”

  “They won’t care. Boys just want to see some skin. Besides, some guys prefer the petite ballerina body type.”

  “Or they prefer curves they can grab onto like yours.”

  “Good. Then we’ll never have to fight over a guy.”

  “As if,” I scoffed. “I’ve never even had a crush.”

  “Never?”

  I looked away, feeling my heart pound. My feeli
ngs for Roque had changed over the years. He’s changed. The man/boy is all man now. The photographs I hired my PI to take are stashed under my mattress. I might look at them every night… His eyes. His eyes are the same though. Two soul-sucking, heat-searing missiles. I feel them go right through me every time I stare at the pictures.

  “Nope. I have better things to focus my time on besides boys.”

  “Like training for some Ninja TV show? You might be small, but you are toned as hell, D. I’m jealous.”

  Tati’s been calling me D forever. She never thought Diana fit as my name. Little did she know how right she is.

  “Don’t be. I train for a purpose other than vanity.”

  “Will you ever share these secrets?”

  I sighed. “I can’t.”

  She sat quietly on her bed. “Did… did someone hurt you D? You know how I mean…,” she trailed off biting her lip.

  I shrugged not wanting to cry. If I did, my fake contacts could slide out. Tati still has no clue what I really look like. My persona is almost as much as a farce as Roque pretending to be a frat guy. “It was a long time ago. And it wasn’t sexual but yes someone did hurt me.”

  “That doesn’t matter. It still happened, right?”

  I nodded my head and straightened my spine. I couldn’t’ be weak. Not now. Not tonight.

  “You are going to entice every guy tonight. Forget the past and live in the moment.”

  I turned to the mirror, inspecting the sexy image staring back. “I’ll never forget the past, Tati. But I do intend to live in the present.”

  “Good. Because I have the serious hots for someone.”

  “Who?”

  “Sebastian Le Blanc. He’s a baller. Hot as fuck and tonight I want to just dance with him.”

  “Just dance?”

  “Maybe kiss. After that…”

  I rolled my eyes. “Whatever. But we don’t get separated. That’s our deal, right?”

  “Yeah. I want to have fun, but I want to be safe. No drinking. We’ll pretend to sip though. Is that cool?”

  “Absolutely.”

  In under twenty we rolled up to the outskirts of Princeton. I thought nothing could compare to the beauty of my homeland, but I was wrong. Everyone in New York thinks New Jersey was nothing but a dump. They lied. Princeton is all the sappy shit you see on TV. People living in America, living perfect lives in perfectly painted houses on expertly manicured lawns with luxury cars parked out front. The homes are spread apart like mini mansions. Frat row is the same with large yards with acres of woods behind them and huge colonials with shutters on either side of the windows. I gently pressed the brake to slow our roll but I’m not stupid enough to park here. There’s no way he didn’t have the entire block under surveillance.