Depraved

by Pucci, Trilina

  I CAN’T BREATHE. FUCK. THEY’RE here. My family’s here in Chicago, ready to drag me back kicking and screaming.

  Time’s up.

  Dante’s warmth washes over me from behind, making my eyes squeeze closed. He’s holding me close—too close. I’m suffocated by all his maleness.

  My body pushes against the strength of his unmoving arm, needing to escape his comfort. I can’t think straight when Dante’s touching me. And I need my mind crystal fucking clear right about now.

  “Is that who you thought I was when you shot?” he asks quietly from behind me.

  Struggling harder against his hold, I release a breath in a rush as Dante’s arm leaves my body, setting me free. My body springs forward, feeling even less centered than before. I wrap my arms around myself, not answering and staring at the bar in the far corner.

  Dante spins me around and locks eyes with me, anchoring me by my waist as his eyes search mine. His voice fills with the seriousness of his words. “Whoever that was won’t touch you, Billy. Not now, not ever. Do you understand that? I can protect you.”

  My head shakes as I stare at him, feeling an angry heat crawl up my neck.

  Dante’s words should be music to my ears. I should cry and fall into his arms, thanking him for being my salvation, my savior. My very own criminal dark knight.

  But all I feel is angry. Really fucking angry.

  Because I’m not that girl—the one who needs his kind of help. I don’t need another villain disguised as a hero.

  I’ve got me. I’m good.

  “I told you to leave it. To fucking leave it,” I spit, swallowing down the tremble in my voice. “Now you want to protect me?” I huff, pushing his hands off me. “At what price?”

  “What the fuck does that mean?” he barks as I turn and walk toward the desk, swiping my phone off the surface and making my way to the drawers.

  “Exactly what I said,” I answer over my shoulder. Reaching down, I open the drawer harshly. Vincenzo takes a step back, and I narrow my eyes at him as I pull my bag into my arms. “You’re an asshole, too.”

  He opens his mouth to speak, but Dante beats him to it.

  “Concedici un momento. Chiama l’uomo e portalo qui per suturarmi. Di a Matteo di scoprire chi sta cercando di trovare la nostra ragazza. Lei non ci dirà niente. Ma voglio delle risposte, come ieri.”

  Give us a moment. Go call the guy, get him here to stitch me up. Tell Matteo to find out who’s looking for our girl. She won’t tell us anything. But I want answers, like yesterday.

  My head swings between them, and I suddenly wish I spoke Italian because I know that was about me.

  Vincenzo nods and walks past me, bringing a hand to my shoulder and rubbing it gently, before lifting his phone to his ear and rattling off more Italian.

  What the hell?

  Dante’s head follows Vincenzo out and only turns back toward me when the door closes, leaving us alone.

  “Now. Explain yourself.”

  Dante’s voice is eerily calm and steady as he leans his hip against the desk and crosses his arms over his chest. He’s not asking anymore, not in any form of the word. Whether I like it or not, I have to come clean.

  If he was anyone else, I’d lie, weasel my way out of this with a bullshit explanation and disappear, but too much was said in the call. Dante understands the implications. He can read between the lines because he speaks the same language.

  I take a deep breath to steady myself, preparing to say the words aloud that’ve been a secret for eight years.

  “My father and brother are coming to collect me. Take me back home. But I don’t plan to be here by the time they arrive,” I confess.

  The words feel like acid on my tongue, making me wish I could stop speaking and run. I pull my purse farther onto my shoulder, shifting my weight, feeling uncomfortable in my own skin.

  His eyes narrow as he studies my face. “Why’d you leave them?”

  Because I hate them. Because they sold me as a low-level buy-in to sell heroin. Because they tried to ruin every bit of goodness inside of me.

  “Nope,” I answer flatly, watching his expression darken.

  Dante motions his head for me to come to him, but I don’t move. I refuse because the way he’s considering me looks a lot like pity.

  “Don’t do that,” I bite out.

  “Do what?” he answers, standing and making his way around the desk to where I am.

  “Treat me like something fragile. I’m not that woman, at all,”

  The strength in my voice isn’t surprising as I face him. It’s expected. I’m a survivor, and I won’t have anyone take that from me or sweep that under the rug with their fucking pity.

  “Got it. But that’s not how I’m treating you,” he counters, taking my purse from my shoulder and dropping it to the floor next to him. “I’m treating you like someone about to run. Like an animal that’s been cornered. I’m being cautious, Billy, because I don’t want you to bite. I can help if you’ll let me.”

  I don’t answer. I won’t. So, I just shake my head. He has no idea the levels my family would sink to get what they want or the despicable intentions of the people they’re involved with.

  I’m sure Dante could handle them, but it wouldn’t be without some kind of damage to the things and the people he loves.

  The people I love.

  Dominic, Luca, Gretchen, Drew, their children…everything is fair play in this kind of war, and I can’t live with that. They don’t deserve this destruction.

  But he’s right. I’m going to run. I haven’t pretended anything differently. And if he tries to stop me, I really will sink my teeth into anything that gets in the way.

  Dante brushes a lock of hair from my face, tucking it behind my ear. “Why do they want you back, Billy?”

  The action is tender and soft, and my eyes close, to rob me of one sense so that I can relish another. His tatted hand cradles my jaw as he waits for my answer, and it reminds me of our first night—our first words spoken once I crossed the threshold.

  “You’re so beautiful sitting at my feet, Sarah. Thank you,” he whispers, running his hand over my head and letting his fingers weave through my hair. I lean in to his touch appreciatively as he speaks.

  “Tell me how you knew I was what you needed.”

  “I felt it. Your power. Your possession. And I wanted to be collected.” His finger dips down under my chin, raising my eyes to his as I continue. “We’re depraved, Dante. I recognized your darkness because it’s mine as well.”

  Dante’s voice pulls me from my bubble. “Answer me,” he whispers. “Why are they coming for you?”

  I lock eyes with his as I give the answer. “Because I fucked up a deal for them, and they want me to make amends.”

  The muscles in Dante’s jaw work overtime as he lowers his face closer to mine.

  “How do you make amends? With money?”

  His voice is a low whisper; it’s deadly and restrained.

  “With my body…with my life. Whatever works.” I answer honestly.

  His thumb runs under my eye, but I know it’s dry. I don’t cry anymore. I wouldn’t even know how.

  His eyes bore into mine, like he wants to say more, but he doesn’t. Shaking his head, Dante drops his hand and takes a step back.

  “Motherfucker.”

  He smacks his hands together roughly. I can feel his anger; it’s vibrating off him. Dante looks back to me as he keeps putting distance between us like he’s trying to protect me from the rage that’s evident all over his face.

  “Ask me for help,” he growls, fisting his hands at his sides.

  He knows I won’t ask.

  “No. I’d be making a deal with the devil, and you’d want my soul in return.”

  I was sold once. That shit won’t ever happen again.

  Grabbing my purse from the floor, I look over my shoulder at the door and back to Dante. He takes a predatory step forward, but my feet instinctively carry me backwa
rd a few steps, and I reach out for the wall to steady me as I get tripped up around the desk chair.

  “Ask me, Billy,” he grinds out louder, rubbing his stubbled jaw angrily and stalking directly into my space, pushing the chair into its spot with a loud thud.

  My hand shoots out to his chest, stopping him in his place. “Men like you…you don’t do things out of the goodness of your heart. There’s always a price. And no matter how small it seems, it’s always too steep.” His eyes falter as he pushes my hand off his chest, but I continue. “My decisions are mine, Dante. My consequences are fucking mine. I won’t make transactions with my life.”

  A sneer grows on his face, a deep guttural rumble pulling from his throat. He grabs a glass from the bar next to us and hurls it across the room as his voice booms in the space.

  “So, I’m just some monster that would rob you of your life? That’s who the fuck I am to you?”

  The crystal smashes against the wall, and I flinch, refusing to look at the tiny shards ricocheting through the room.

  “No, you’re the nightmare that controls all the monsters. You’re the thing I wouldn’t be able to escape.”

  Dante runs a hand over his shaved head and takes two steps backward, letting out a laugh. “Who said you’re able to escape now? Donna testarda.” Stubborn woman.

  I draw my brows together, worried by his words, as the sound of footsteps grabs my attention and pulls my head in the direction of the door.

  Two fast knocks sound against the outside, and Dante walks past where I’m frozen, saying, “Entra,” and pulling his cell phone from his pants pocket. The door opens wide, and Vincenzo steps aside just as Dante reaches the doorway.

  “Where are you going?” I shoot out, confused by what’s happening.

  Dante turns and looks at me, a smirk growing on his face. “I gave you a choice. You could’ve just asked, but you had to do this the hard way. Try and remember what happens next is for your own good.”

  Turning his head, Dante brings the cell to his ear and speaks into it quickly in Italian. I can’t understand anything he says except for when he says, “Done.” But given his demeanor, I don’t think it was good.

  Dante covers the phone, turning to look at Vincenzo, as he keeps his back to me.

  “Porta a casa Sarah, e tienila lì e non farla uscire.”

  My stomach flips at the finality in his voice, mixed with the uncertainty of his words. And for the first time, I’m actually scared.

  “Why the fuck are you speaking in code?” I yell to Dante’s back. “What’s going on?”

  It’s as if I haven’t spoken. I’m invisible. Neither man turns to look at me.

  My eyes blink rapidly as I look around, needing an escape. I need to get the fuck out of here. The door closes with a loud bang, and I jump, my head swinging around to see Vincenzo standing alone.

  “All right, sweetheart, we can do this the easy way or the hard way. Sarah, don’t choose the hard way because I like you, and I don’t want to have to—.”

  Cutting him off, I toss my bag on the ground, letting it land with a thud, and walk to my desk, eyeing exactly what I need. I grip the silver metal scissors in my hand and turn, narrowing my eyes.

  Vincenzo takes off his jacket and folds it, banking it over the armchair. He tilts his head and gives me a hard look before rolling up his shirtsleeve.

  “Fuck. That’s what I thought.”

  I’M THE MONSTER SHE CAN’T escape? Her pride is her monster. Whatever happened to Sarah is far worse than she’s letting on. That’s for damn sure.

  Fuck. The disgusting possibilities of what she didn’t tell me run through my head, making me see red. I have to get out of this fucking room. We’re getting nowhere, and I’m only going to do something I’ll regret.

  My gaze drifts down seeing the light reflected off a tiny piece of glass from the tumbler I tossed against the wall, and I close my eyes. What am I doing?

  I open them and look to Vincenzo, standing next to me in the doorway, waiting for direction.

  But I have none. I’m undecided. Conflicted.

  On one hand, her shit isn’t my problem, and if this girl wanted my help, she’d ask. She’s been given a hundred opportunities tonight. I need to walk away and let her handle her own fucking life because helping her is inviting trouble…and I choose for more than just myself.

  I have to look at the bigger picture.

  But men are animals, our triggers are hairpin, and Sarah is a big fucking trigger for me.

  I can’t help but feel protective. She’s unknowingly hit a nerve. One I never expose because it’s so raw that it clouds my judgment.

  I hit the number staring back up at me, hoping for a push in the right direction. Whichever that may be.

  The line rings twice before Dominic answers abruptly.

  “What’s up?”

  “Abbiamo un problema.” We have a problem.

  “It’s 4:00 a.m., Dante. The sun’s up…we can’t hide the body just yet. I just got to the office,” he laughs, and I hear papers shuffle in the background.

  “La tua falsa sorella è nei guai. Sono al club.” Your fake sister’s in trouble. I’m at the club, I say, clipped.

  “What the fuck? Hold on. I’ll patch in Luca.”

  I’m met with silence, then more silence, before the line echoes, and I know I’ve been put on a conference call. Luca’s voice takes over. “Explain.”

  “Non ora. Ascoltami, so che lei è importante per te, ma non so quanto cupo e caotico possa essere il suo problema, quindi prima di decidere ho una domanda da farti. Cosa vorresti che facessi?” Not now. Listen to me, I know she means something to you, but I don’t know how dark or deep she’s in with her mess. So, I’m asking before I decide. What do you wish me to do?

  “Protect her,” Dominic barks without hesitation with Luca doing the same on the heels of his words. “How the fuck is that even a question, dick?”

  I let out a frustrated breath. “La donna testarda ha rifiutato l’aiuto che ho offerto. Non sono un cazzo di eroe, fratello. Ricorda con chi stai parlando…” The stubborn woman refused the help I offered. I’m not a goddamn hero, brother. Remember who you’re speaking to…

  “You aren’t a monster either. Remember who the you fuck we are,” Luca pushes angrily.

  “Since when has pushback stopped you from doing anything needed?” Dom questions.

  I let out a long breath before answering them. “Questa merda è molto più complicata per me. Voi due lo sapete. Di tutte le persone…voi dovreste saperlo.” This shit is so much more complicated for me. You two know that. Of all people…you know.

  Dominic interjects, a seriousness woven into his words. “We do, but Luca’s right, Dante. We choose not to be like our father or our uncle. You don’t have to make their decisions all over again.”

  I hear him, but I won’t risk my family for Sarah. She’s nothing to me. Ultimately, she’s just a girl I fucked. But even as I think it, I don’t like the way it sounds.

  I may not love her, but that night…what we did, I feel connected to her in a way I can’t shake.

  “Ho bisogno di un motivo migliore. Io prendo decisioni che riguardano tutti noi. Dimmi perché le ho dato valore se lei ha rifiutato il mio aiuto? Dimmi, perché continuo ad insistere?” I need a better reason. I make decisions that affect all of us. Tell me why I put value on her when she’s turned down my help? Tell me why I force my hand?

  “We choose to protect our family, not let greed and self-interest rule our lives. She’s family, Dante. She’s important to us. To me and Dom,” Luca adds.

  There’s only one answer I can give. Luca knows that. He’s given me my reason….my excuse.

  “Quindi lei è importante per me.” Then she’s important to me, I answer, nodding my head, making peace with what I’m about to do.

  “Hey. Do we need to be concerned about what’s coming?” he asks solemnly.

  I look back over my shoulder at the woman standing wide-eyed and wild i
n the center of the room and wonder if I could’ve actually let her go it alone.

  Hating that I might have.

  Relieved I won’t have to know.

  “Non lo so. Ma lei sarà protetta. Consideralo…done.” I don’t know. But she’ll be protected. Consider it…done.

  Pulling the cell from my ear, I cover it and tell Vincenzo to take her to my house and lock her down.

  She starts yelling at me for an explanation, but right now, I need to get stitched up, grab a drink, and get my goddamn head straight.

  Like I said, she’s bringing trouble, and I just opened my doors wide to greet it.

  I bring the phone back to my ear as I walk down the hall. “Since it’s technically Saturday morning, let’s plan Sunday dinner. Come to me because I’m going to have a pissed-off little houseguest.”

  “You’re sending her to your place?” Dom laughs loudly. “You sure you needed us to push you in the right direction? Sounds like you’ve already turned down the bed.”

  I walk through the entry of the kitchen, stepping over the fucker we have chained to the cabinets, giving him a kick as I do.

  “Scumbag. I’m not going to fuck her. At least that’s not why I’m taking her to my house.” I laugh.

  “Again,” Luca counters with too much amusement in his voice.

  “I’m gonna make you swallow your tongue for that. And who says I fucked her? You just saw us leave together.”

  The doc motions for me to stand next to a silver metal prep table, and I do. “Mind your business, assholes. And name a safer spot for her to be?” I challenge, wincing as the man pulls the shirt from the nasty wound.

  “No. You’re right. There’s no place safer than your dick…nobody ever goes there.” Luca chuckles, Dom following.

  “Fuck you.” I laugh, half groaning as I hang up, the needle inserted into the tender flesh wound numbing my arm instantly.

  Antonio walks in from the back of the room, catching my attention.

  “We good?” I question, looking down at the body and back to him.

  “Yeah. I don’t think he’ll steal from us again. But try and rat on us, that’s a different story.”