Twisted Bitch (Sick and Twisted Book 2)

by Jaci J

  “I just can’t … I can’t fucking believe it. That doesn’t sound like a Dante thing to do,” Matt rants, talking more to himself than me. Pacing the room, he grumbles about Dante.

  It’s not something Dante would normally do. Dante has never, not since the moment I met him, shut me out. If anything, he was always dragging me in. I’m not really sure what to do with it. Part of me is dazed and the other is heartbroken.

  I should be feeling victorious, celebrating the fact I conquered the unconquerable, but instead, I feel like complete and absolute shit. I feel terrible, nothing like I would have thought.

  “I really fucked up.” I bury my head in my blanket, wishing it’d swallow me up. It’s been two days since Dante literally shut me out of his life and he’s not even so much as texted me. I feel panicky and incomplete.

  “I mean, I’m not trying to pour salt here, babe, but I’m gonna have to agree with you.”

  “That does not fucking help, Matt.”

  “You kinda ate him alive. Basically, you’re a man-eater.”

  “I was only giving him what he gave me.”

  “Uh, no, I don’t think so. He lied to protect you because he loves you. You just stomped all over him in your stilettos and told him you loved him. If I have to be honest, I would’ve dumped your ass a long time ago. He deserved something, but not what you gave him.”

  “I had too.” I think.

  ~~~~~

  “Doll, it’s,” Matt starts to say, glancing down at his watch as he walks back into the living room, “Eleven.” He takes the shot glass from my hand. He’s dressed for the day, where as I am dressed like a homeless man in stained sweats and a way too big t-shirt.

  “It’s too fuckin’ early to start day drinking.” He informs me. I want to know where this ‘no drinking before noon’ is an ironclad law.

  “It’s never too early to drink,” I protest, snatching my shot glass back from his hand. Half its contents spill onto the floor, which only sours my shitty mood even further. “You spilled it, bitch,” I grumble under my breath, sucking back what’s left in the glass. Damn you, Matt.

  It’s been four days post Dante. He hasn’t been to work. He’s not at home, and he’s not lurking around outside of my apartment. I have no idea where he is and it’s killing me. I even caved and called him, but my call was sent straight to voicemail.

  “I think something bad happened to Dante.” He was kidnapped by aliens, or Pirates seeking ransom, I’m sure of it. That has to be it because there is no other explanation for him not taking my call. Never, not once since I’ve met him has he ignored my call. Matt nods stupidly and smiles sadly at me, “Yeah, I’m sure that’s it.”

  “Are you feeling sorry for me?” I accuse him. Pity is not something I need right now.

  “Babe, you’re day drinking. Anyone would feel sorry for you.”

  “I hate you.” I’m lying. I don’t hate Matt at all. In fact, he’s my saving grace.

  “You don’t hate anyone but yourself right now.” That’s true.

  It’s been a long four days without Dante. I can’t forget about him, even after every terrible thing we’ve been through. I should put him behind me and move on, but it’s damn near impossible. He’s like a disaster, something you might get over with time, but you’ll never truly forget or heal from. Someone like Dante leaves scars in his absence.

  ~~~~~

  It’s day eight and I’m no longer sad, I’m numb. Dante meant it. He was done, but relief and happiness are not what I’m feeling right now. I feel like shit at this moment. I broke Dante and I don’t feel good about it at all. A few months ago I would have been on top of the world, but not anymore. Now I want to die.

  Desperation has led me here. I’m not too proud to grovel. I must fix this.

  “Could you please give me Dante’s schedule?” I ask calmly, evenly. Standing at Victoria’s desk, I watch a satisfied smile spread across her face. I’m asking for a favor I know she’s going to happily deny.

  “I can’t give out Mr. Marcello’s personal information.”

  “Yes, you can.” I assure her.

  “No, I can’t.” She shrugs, rapping her nails on the desk, dismissing me.

  “You can’t or won’t?”

  “Both.” She smiles and proceeds to ignore me. Something snaps. I lose my control, and my shit. Reaching across her little desk, I snatch her by her ponytail and jerk on it, bringing her face to face with my very unhappy one. I lean across her desk and speak real close to her, just in case she’s unclear of my intentions. I’m not playing around here.

  “Don’t fucking push me. I’m not in the mood for your little power play.”

  Letting go of her hair with a little shove, I straighten up and try to get my shit under control. “Now, please give me his schedule before I tear your lips from your face.” I demand. Her eyes are wide, but she’s not scared. No, Victoria is enjoying this. She’s going to try to use this against me with Dante. Too bad for her I can’t fuck up any worse than I already have. She can try all she wants, but all she’ll do is piss me off.

  Clicking on her computer, she takes her sweet time. After a moment, she peers up at me with annoyed eyes. “His plane lands this evening. He should be home around six.”

  “Fuck you very much,” I grind out, turning on my heels and heading for the elevator. “Oh, and Victoria? You’re fired. If Dante wants to keep you, he can put you somewhere else, but as long as I’m a part of this business, you will no longer be employed with my company. Now get your shit and go.” The Bitch had it coming, whether he brings her back or not. I won’t stand for her shit anymore.

  ~~~~~

  There are times in your life, if your lucky, that only happen once or twice in your life that you realize you’ve fucked things up royally in your world. And I mean failures of epic proportions, soul-crushing and heartbreaking failures that suck you in and swallow you whole. They consume you and you never recover. They are the times that you would have rather been dead than to live through the hell you’re in.

  You’d do anything to right your wrongs; beg, plead, lie, and steal to make up for it. There is nothing I wouldn’t do for Dante. It’s painfully clear that we are a crazy match made in heaven. I’ve realized that I’m completely lost without the asshole and I need his crazy, over-the-top stalking, bossy self in my life. I can’t seem to function without him. I can’t stand him, but I sure as fuck love him and maybe that’s just how we’re supposed to be, dysfunctional.

  Standing on the sidewalk, I watch Dante walk arm in arm with an older woman, a beautiful blonde, towards his building. She’s dressed to the nines and Dante looks stupidly handsome, as usual. Instantly I wish there was an out of control car speeding towards them. I wish I had a gun, a knife, or hell, a rope would work. I wish I were anywhere else in the world than right here.

  She’s laughing and Dante looks … well, happy, or at least content for the moment. Everything in my body hurts seeing them together. My head, my heart, and my soul ache when looking at him with someone else. I want to cry, throw up and die. I want him to die.

  I was going to leave, I really was. I was just going to disappear without so much as a word, but I can’t stop my feet once they start.

  “London?” Dante’s gruff voice catches me off guard and I stumble a little hearing his unnerving voice. The leggy blonde with him looks up at me and smiles, “Is that her, Dante?” She asks, bumping into him playfully. Dante? No one calls him that.

  He looks surprised to see me but she, however, does not. Holding up my hands protectively, I step back and away as he comes towards me. If he gets his hands on me, it’s all over.

  “London, what are you doing here?” Getting ready to bare my soul to a lying asshole. Why am I so fucking stupid? I deserve this. I deserve it in spades, but it doesn’t mean I want to deserve it.

  “Get away from me.” He looks shocked and confused, like he doesn’t understand why I wouldn’t want him near me.

  “Come here,�
� he demands, but I move away from his outstretch hand. Making a grab for me, Dante latches onto my arm, pulling me in towards his body.

  “Baby, wait.” Something else in me snaps, completely breaking when he touches me. I’m losing my fucking mind and it’s showing. I have to get away from the sicko. Balling up my fist, I swing at face, aiming for that lying hole in his face.

  “God dammit!” Dante shouts the moment my hand meets something hard on his face. I feel good, vindicated when I see blood. I’m as sick as he is.

  “Fuck you, Dante, and you,” I turn to the stunned stupid blonde standing on the sidewalk as a target for my rage. She’s next. I’m going to tear her hair out and shove it in her pouty-lipped mouth. “I’m going to kill you.” I make my move, going straight at her.

  Dante grabs me around the waist and holds me against his chest, stopping me. Of course the fuckwad doesn’t want me messing up his new toys pretty little face.

  “London, baby, stop.” Not until there are two dead bodies on the ground and I’m being hauled off in cuffs. My heart’s pounding in my ears. My blood is on fire, and my fists are hungry. I just can’t stop myself.

  “Put me the fuck down!” I struggle against his hold, fighting him.

  “Let me fucking explain myself!” Why, so he can feed me more lies? Spin some Dante concocted half-truths? Not gonna happen.

  Rearing back, I bring my elbow down into his gut. With an “ugh,” he lets me go, dropping me to my feet. Bent over, clutching his gut, he peers up at me with … lust? He’s sick and twisted and I love him.

  “Dammit, London, stop … please,” he begs and pleads, “Its just business.” Sure it is. Isn’t that what all the lying fuck-faces say when they’re caught with a leggy blonde riding them in a cheap motel.

  “Fuck you. I thought for once you were telling the truth when you said I was the only one you wanted. You ‘love me’ right? How fucking stupid of me to believe you, again.” What’s that saying? Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me. Well, shame on me.

  Dante

  Tears are streaming from those heart-stopping green eyes. Pure rage and unadulterated heartbreak is evident in London’s crumpled face and I feel like a complete and utter shit about putting that look there. It’s my fault and I know it.

  “You’re a liar,” she shouts, pointing an accusatory finger at me. She’s shaking and there’s nothing more I want than to wrap my arms around her and make her feel better, but it’s doubtful that my touch would make her happy, let alone calm her down.

  “Listen to me. If you would just hear me out.” If she’d let me explain this shit, I could save her the unnecessary fucking heartache.

  “Why, so you can fill my head with more bullshit? Lie to me until I’m so fucking confused I have no other choice but to believe you. You fuck with me, Dante. You’ve done nothing but fuck with my heart and my mind. Don’t you see? You’ve made me into this hateful, vengeful person who doesn’t trust anyone, and I wanted nothing more than to make you hurt. I was not like this before you came along and fucked my world up. I was fine and happy, so why did you pursue me? Why did you lie to me? Why couldn’t you and my grandfather just explain shit to me before you both decided to gut me and make me look and feel like a fool? You think that I’m some prissy little girl that’s been taken care of all her life, but money is not what I went to school for. Money is not what made me want to work in the family business. I wanted to make my own mark, but you’ve both destroyed any hopes I had of doing just that. So, in a nutshell, that’s why I hate you, Dante. I hate you for making me feel loved, and then taking everything, including that love, away from me.”

  It kills me, breaks me in places I never knew existed hearing what she’s never said out loud to me and watch her as she completely falls apart in front of me. Hearing this come from her, I understand why she hates me. Jesus Christ, it’s painful. I thought closing the door on her was hard, but this takes the motherfucking cake.

  “What can I do?” I’m lost and I need her.

  “Nothing.” London trusts me. She trusts me to fuck shit up constantly. I’m not surprised at all by her answer.

  Taking a step towards her, she backs away from me again. I’m worried that if I get too close to her, she might smack me again and I’m scared if I say the wrong thing, she’ll bolt.

  Standing here on the sidewalk, the snow starts to fall again and her and I fall into an uncomfortable silence. We’re at an impasse and I’m so goddamn irritated. It was a goddamn dinner meeting.

  “Listen, Linda is just …”

  “Shut up! I don’t want to hear another lie from you.” Spinning on her heels, she makes it to her car and inside before I can get to her.

  I watch her go, as usual, and there is nothing I can do. London is inside of her car before I can take a step towards her. The little monster hit me, twice. I should be mad as hell at her. Hell, I should be shocked, but I’m not. Fuck, she’s been holding all this shit in, it’s no wonder she couldn’t stop what she was doing. Revenge is something that grabs you and turns you inside out. I’ve done so wrong by her. I never looked that closely into what was happening with her. We’re at a place where we can’t come back from.

  Touching the corner of my mouth, I feel blood. She made me bleed, the savage little shit. My stomach is fucking sore and my lip throbs.

  “Oh my God, Dante,” Linda gasps touching my arm. Shaking her off, I point towards the car now idling at the curb.

  “Get in the car. Cam can finish the paperwork with you.”

  “Dante?”

  “If you want the property you’ll deal with Carmine.” I have a score to settle and a heart to mend.

  ~~~~~

  I’m a hopeless fucking idiot when it comes to London because I just couldn’t let her leave. I had to follow her. I told her to go and now I’m begging to get her to come back.

  “You can come out here and talk to me, or I can force you to talk to me. Take your pick, London.” I shout through the door. Locked in her apartment, she ignores me. Why not just break in? I’m not trying to push her even further over the edge. I’m trying to do this this proper way, but it doesn’t mean I won’t if she doesn’t answer her goddamn door soon.

  Beating even harder with my fist, I feel like I’m stuck on this absurd hamster wheel, running, but never making it anywhere. I’m guessing that I could beat my fist bloody and threaten her until I’m blue in the face, yet none of it would make a difference to her. She’s not talking or listening to me.

  “What the hell, Dante?” Jesus, just what I need. Looking over from the corner of my eye, Matt is staring all wide-eyed at me. Turning to face him fully, his eyes damn near pop out of his head when he looks at me.

  “What happened to your face?”

  “What the hell do you think happened to it?”

  “Oh boy.” Yeah the little know-it-all went wild when she wouldn’t let me explain.

  Setting down his grocery bags, he leans against the wall next to me. He’s not going to let me in. Matt’s loyalties lie with the woman on the other side of the door, and he’d rather die than help me out where London’s concerned.

  “You’re not going to let me in there, are you.”

  “What’d you do?” He asks, blame lacing his words. It’s always Dante’s fault. I carry the weight of the world on my fucking shoulders.

  “She saw me with a woman, a business associate,” I add before he can start accusing me of shit I didn’t do. “London saw it and jumped to all sorts of crazy conclusions. She wouldn’t let me explain, punched me in the face and ran away. The usual.” I shrug. “So, that would be a no in the letting me in department?” I ask.

  “No, not at this moment, but if you want London to listen to you and actually hear you, you’re gonna have to force her to listen.” That’s fine with me. I’m not above force. “But be nice, Dante. You don’t know what you’ve done to her, so I’m telling you to be calm and patient with her. Force her to see how much you truly love her,
but for fuck’s sake, don’t cram it down her throat.” I’d love to cram something down her throat, and it isn’t my love.

  Fourteen

  Miss Fight At Every Turn

  London

  The pounding has stopped and Dante’s shouted demands have quieted. I’d love to assume he just gave up and went home, but he just wouldn’t be Dante if he did. No, he’s somewhere out there plotting, scheming, and possibly lurking.

  I’m exhausted, mentally and physically. My hand hurts and my heart aches. Our highs have been high and our lows have been fucking low. I’m fucking tired of it.

  I’m lying in bed when Matt comes in and flops down next to me. Gathering me against his side, he snuggles me like only Matt can. He’s up to something.

  “Matt?”

  “This shit has to stop, London. It has to right now. It’s not healthy for any of us, and yes, I’m including myself and anyone else besides the two of you that are involved involuntarily. Either love Dante or let him go.” I’m not sure that’s possible. I’ve tried and he’s still here.

  “He won’t leave me alone.”

  “Yes he would. Right now, if you told him you’re done, he would walk away and never look back. He’s tired too. Either get it together or let each other go.”

  Sitting up, I scoot away from him, ready to argue when he stops me. “I’m not saying pick this very second. I’m also not saying Dante didn’t deserve some of the shit you gave him, which by the way, was some downright brutal shit at times, but something’s got to give and I’d rather it not end in some freaky murder/suicide shit. Babe, you both have to figure this out, like adults, not fucking teenagers with vendettas against each other. That means no more games, no more lies, and no more crazy.” That all means no more Dante, and I’m not sure how I feel about that.

  ~~~~~

  Standing in my closet, I stare at the wayward articles of clothes scattered all over the damn floor. My closet has gone to hell in recent weeks. Trying to ruin Dante has really put a damper on my ability to stay clean and organized. It’s just another thing Dante has fucked up in my life.