Depraved

by Pucci, Trilina

  Slapping Dom’s shoulder, I lean in. “Do me a favor?”

  “Name it,” he answers, standing to walk out with me.

  We stride through the door and back into the house. I grab my jacket from the couch and look at him. “Call Matteo and meet them at her place?”

  He understands I don’t want her there so close to the men trying to hurt her. “If I can’t be there, then I need you with her. Have Matteo call me with any problems.”

  “She’ll be safe. I got you. But you’re going to owe Drew something big the next time you see her because now both of us are leaving early.”

  “YOU DON’T THINK YOU’RE OVERDOING it? Maybe slightly?” I ask Matteo from the back seat of the SUV where I’m flanked by two serious-looking guys.

  “Dante said to bring some guys with us. I brought some guys.” He laughs. “Bitch to him when he meets us.”

  “I get it. It’s fine. I’m just happy to get something other than sweats. You’re the worst.” I joke.

  “You’re welcome.” He laughs again.

  We ease into a silence as we make the drive to my apartment. I don’t live too far from Dante, but I do live a few incomes from him, so the closer we get, the less shiny the buildings are, and the more necessary it becomes to have security.

  It’s funny, the first night I made it to Dante’s, I thought of it as a prison, but all the windows here are the ones with bars.

  “We’re here,” Matteo barks to the guys as the car slows and pulls to a stop in front of my building.

  They exit first as I grab my bag from the floor and sort through it for my keys. My door opens as I hear them jingle. I twist my head to the open door and see a large, familiar hand extended to help me out.

  “I’d know that watch anywhere. Hey, you.” I greet, peering up at Dominic. “What are you doing here?”

  Dom pulls me out of the car and into a squeeze, making me laugh.

  “He couldn’t make it. So, he sent a better model.”

  I push his shoulder as he lets me go, still laughing at his joke, but when I take in his face, I notice his smile doesn’t meet his eyes.

  I smooth out my shirt and point to the door. He nods, and we start to walk the concrete walkway to the steps of the brownstone that houses eight apartments.

  “It’s nice to see a friendly face.” I can’t help but notice the way he looks around as we walk. “Speaking of miserable people. Where is he?”

  Dom gives a small shoulder shrug and winks.

  “Business, gorgeous. You know, the kind you don’t need to know about.”

  Grinning, he stops in front of the entry door and angles his body, so his back is to the wall. Something’s up. I look over my shoulder, but all I see are Dante’s burly soldiers staring back at me.

  My eyes travel to Dom as I twirl my keys around my finger. “Something I need to know?”

  “Not a thing.” He answers and looks down at the door, motioning for me to open it.

  I fiddle with the keys Matteo gave me back earlier and turn the lock, pushing the door open.

  “How was dinner?” I ask nonchalantly, as we walk past a wall of gold-plated mail slots toward the stairs.

  Dominic laughs and shakes his head, holding me back as the other guys take the stairs first.

  “You mean the dinner where we set Dante up with the busty blonde who couldn’t keep her hands off of him?”

  My eyes shoot to his, and I swear I could kill him.

  “Easy.” He laughs. “I’d hate to be the one who got in your way. You can put your claws away. It was family only. But I couldn’t help myself. You know, considering he told me and Luca all about your little false assumption.”

  I smack his shoulder and laugh.

  “Oh, that’s nice. Like a group of golden girls. The three of you are terrible people.”

  Dom nudges my shoulder with his much larger one. “Aww. We love you too, Sar.”

  I roll my eyes as we walk up the stairs, feigning irritation, mostly to hide the fact that I’m really very happy that I was wrong. I shouldn’t care. But I do.

  I don’t want to share. It’s as simple as that.

  When I get to my apartment, I unlock the door and head inside with my entourage. The space feels so small and too dark, in a way it’s never felt before. I flick on a light and toss my keys on the counter. Everyone filters inside, the door shutting behind them, and I look at the guys, who are taking up all the room in my place. “I’m going to pack. There’s only the one room, so you guys can hang here.”

  “Let them check it first.” Dom directs.

  I nod as Matteo and the others walk past me, keeping my eyes on Dom. “You sure there isn’t something I should know?”

  “You sure there isn’t anything I should know?” he counters, and I scrunch my nose.

  I love Dominic and Luca like they’re my real brothers. I wish they were, which is why I won’t say a word, but I also hate lying to them. Almost as much as I hate lying to Dante.

  “Gorgeous, you know he’ll find out the truth. Whatever that is. Right?”

  Yep. I do.

  “Let’s hope it’s after I’m gone. Then we can all be spared the grief.” I shrug, not bothering with pretense.

  This is Dom—he and Luca have been my only sense of family since I started working at Church. I can lie by withholding, not by being false.

  “Sarah. Don’t push everyone away.” I shake my head, opening my mouth to protest, but he stops me. “Like you always do. Let us help you. You have us. Me, Luca, and especially Dante.”

  I stare at his face, wishing that I could just cave and say “yes,” but some things are for the best. I almost laugh when I think it, hearing Dante’s words in my head: “It’s for your own good.”

  Matteo walks back out and nods. “All good, Sarah.”

  I smile weakly at Dom and turn, walking inside my room, trying to suffocate the need to spill my guts, but it feels overwhelming. The longer I stay, the harder it will become. I know that. But there isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for these guys. Especially now.

  I grab the last of the things on the list I have in my head and walk to my bed, sitting for a moment and taking a breath. My phone buzzes on my bed where I tossed it when I came in. I scoot myself back and lean over to reach it, lying down as I answer.

  I hit Answer without bothering to look because I know it’s Dante.

  “Miss me?” I tease, smiling wide as I hold the phone to my ear.

  “Oh, we miss you, Sarah.”

  Chills shoot down my spine, and I sit up straight as a board. My breath is still in my throat, my teeth grating so hard they may break.

  “Christopher,” I greet with every bit of the malice I feel for my brother. “Where are you?”

  I don’t think he’ll actually tell me, but I always ask anyway.

  I hear him laugh darkly as the sound of a car passing by with loud music mutes his voice. But what gives me pause is the echo I hear from my side…

  “Look outside, dearest sister.”

  My eyes blink rapidly as I stand, my head turning to the window as my feet refuse to move. Go, Sarah. I push forward, taking slow steps, then walk quickly toward my window.

  My eyes dart to my bedroom door, worried someone may hear me or walk in. I stand by the corner of the wall and bring my fingertips to the soft cream curtains I put up myself. Peeling it back, I peer out with half my face, scanning the sidewalk and across the street for my brother.

  I hear a match strike, and Christopher inhale deeply, just as I see the bright red burn from his cigarette illuminate the dark space across the street.

  Shit.

  “Still smoking, I see. Here’s hoping cancer strikes,” I bite out, closing the curtain and leaning my back against the wall.

  “Wouldn’t that be your lucky day.” He laughs with an exhale.

  My eyes search my room as I try to decide what to do. I could tell Dom and Matteo right now. They could grab him and beat the shit out him…maybe worse. But
then…

  “What do you want, Christopher? You know I’m never voluntarily coming back. So why call, why torment me?”

  His voice forces me to remember what he looks like when he sneers.

  “You know exactly what we want. I suspect that’s why you’ve made new friends, bitch.”

  He was watching me when I got here. If he’s too scared of them, that means he knows or at least suspects who they are. Fuck. But maybe I can use it to my advantage.

  I push off the wall and start back to my bed, running my hands through my hair.

  “Yep. Good luck getting through them. You’ll need an army. Might as well give up now.”

  “You forget we have an army.”

  I laugh at his empty threat and grab the handle of my bag. “Not unless you want to die too.”

  Christopher’s voice is quiet, threatening, with a promise he plans to keep. “Times have changed, sister. And now that you have dangerous friends, we’ll need a bigger gun. This isn’t over. We’ll see you around.”

  The line dies, and I feel like I do, too. He has the O’Bannions on his side. He must have made a deal with them in exchange for me. Before I can think or process what he’s just said, I grab my bag and rush out the door.

  All heads shoot to my face, concern etched on theirs, not that I wait to dissect—my entire body is set to survival mode. I need to get out of here. I wish I could burn this whole building down. Just the fact that he knows where I am, where I sleep—it’s all tainted by their disgusting intentions.

  I hate them.

  “Sarah. What’s going on?” Matteo calls out as I reach for the keys but throw them to the ground.

  I won’t ever need them again because I won’t be back.

  “We need to get out of here. Now,” I yell behind me as I throw open my front door and practically run.

  I hear footsteps behind me. They’re all yelling for me to stop, but I don’t. I just need to get out. I make it down a flight of stairs before strong arms wrap around me and pull me in.

  “Sarah. Stop,” Dom whispers into my ear, and I shake my head.

  I struggle against his arms, needing to keep moving. “We have to go. Let go, Dom.”

  I feel it. The panic. The fear. It’s all there. Hiding away, waiting to rear its ugly head.

  “Whoa. Settle down. You’re okay,” Dom breathes into my hair, holding me as my body quiets.

  The lump in my throat feels like a boulder. And that feels like the worst part. I’m holding on by a thread, and if I let go, I need to know I can pull myself back in.

  But if I can’t, Dante will.

  “Call him. I need him. Call him please,” I plead in a hushed voice, turning into Dom’s chest and letting him hug me.

  “Okay. It’s okay, Sarah. I got you.”

  I ROLL MY HEAD, TRYING to relax my shoulder muscles. We’ve been in the car too long for my liking. But I know it’s necessary. The spot is a haul from the city but worth it when privacy is needed.

  Helps to be in the middle of nowhere when people scream.

  The gravel kicks up against the car as we pull into the old parking lot. There are three industrial warehouses on this plot. Two I lease out, and one stays empty for whatever we need it for. It’s a perfect cover.

  I look out the window, but I can’t see anything past the tint on the glass until we pull past a dimly lit area that highlights the door. The car pulls into an overhang for the cars and stops.

  My door is opened, letting in the cold night air, and I pull my black cashmere trench closed as I exit. The moment my loafers hit the ground, I see Antonio waiting at the door for me. He looks worn-out, tired in the same way someone looks when they’ve been hitting a punching bag for hours.

  Too bad for the guy inside it’s him being hit and not an actual bag.

  I walk toward the metal door and nod to Antonio as I slip inside.

  The space is vast, empty, and dark, but the faintest smell of sawdust from some building materials stored inside fills my nose as we walk. My feet stomp against the cement floor, and it seems to echo off the steel walls.

  However, not all the walls are steel. One is made with cement blocks.

  And that comes in handy.

  The guys have kept it discreet tonight, using only a few floor spotlights. They’re aimed at the badly beaten guy strung up by chains and hooked to that handy-as-hell cement wall.

  His face is bruised and swollen, a gash under his right eye congealed with crimson. The chains rattle against one another, a brutal melody of torture as his fatigue shows, and his body sways when his knees buckle.

  Antonio falls in step as we walk toward where Vincenzo is leaned in talking to the guy, no doubt telling him that he’ll make it all stop if he just gives us what we want.

  “Did you make any progress?” I question, reaching into the inside pocket of my coat.

  Antonio looks down at his red, swollen knuckles, flexing and straightening his hand.

  “Not yet. He’s sticking with the same story. He was hired over the phone, doesn’t know who. Just supposed to send the info to an email.”

  “Bullshit,” I counter pulling out a silver cigar case.

  “Completely. But he’s committed,” he intones as we come to stand a few feet away.

  I run the fire over the tip of my cigar and put it in my mouth. Vincenzo comes to stand with us, his back to the guy, and I nod to him as I puff, relighting my Cuban.

  Blowing out a puff of smoke, I look over Vin’s shoulder and back to the guys.

  “He works for someone big and bad. That’s the only reason he doesn’t buckle.”

  They both nod at me in agreement, and I know what I need to do.

  “What’s his name?” I ask, holding the cigar between my teeth, and shrug off my jacket.

  Antonio takes it, folding it over a chair beside him. “Frank,” he offers as I unbutton my suit jacket and hand that to him too.

  “No fucking way. It’s a bad week for Franks,” I laugh to their amused faces.

  Walking over, I uncuff my sleeves and begin to roll them up, exposing the veins on my tattooed forearms. I come to a stop in front of our half-conscious friend and take a drag of my cigar, then blow the smoke in his face.

  He coughs, the chains rattling as he pulls away, mumbling a few incoherent words.

  “Frank…hey,” I bark, slapping his cheek. “Wake up, Frank.”

  More mumbles as his head bobs, hanging down between his upstretched arms. I look back at Antonio and Vincenzo in irritation. I told them to leave him conscious. Assholes.

  “I missed cannoli for this. Wake him up.”

  Vin walks toward a safety spigot that has a hose attached like the ones on a fire truck and begins to pull it over.

  “Ah fuck. I love cannoli…Mama’s has the best in town. I’ll kill anyone who says different.” Antonio agrees, taking the hose from Vin.

  I walk a few feet away, not wanting to be in the spray, and nod.

  The freezing cold water turns on with a violent blast, shooting straight onto Frank’s body. He yells and bucks against the pain from the force of the water.

  Vincenzo starts to cheer, clapping his hands. “There we go. Nice to see you again.”

  I hold up my hand, and Antonio stops the assault. I walk over and stand in front of his water-swept face, watching him cough and shake his head as he tries to get his bearings.

  “Sorry. I’m sure you understand why that was necessary. I can’t get answers if you’re sleeping.”

  “Fuck you,” he spits, the blood from his mouth landing on my shoe.

  I look down, and my jaw tenses. “That was rude, Frank. How about you make it up to me. Tell me who you work for? Better yet, why’d the girl’s family want you looking for her?”

  He stares at me and shakes his head. I have to give it to this dick—he’s loyal. A trait my first Frank could’ve used.

  “Frank…I can call you Frank, right?” Vin comes up next to me, handing me a cloth for my shoe, but I p
ocket it. “See, the way I see it is you’re too scared to rat on whoever sent you. And I admire that. I do. But that means my only option is to be scarier than whatever’s back home.”

  “I’m not telling you nothing,” he slurs in a deep accent. A familiar one.

  “That’s interesting. That’s two now with that accent…fucking Boston. What’s with you pricks?” I push, and he lunges for me in his chains.

  I let out a deep laugh, stepping back quickly with my arms spread wide. “There’s the spirit, Frank.” My voice booms through the space as I begin to feed off his anger, clapping my hands together and coming face-to-face with him. “Tell me who you really work for! Cuz it ain’t the dicks she’s related to.”

  Frank sneers, his teeth showing the blood left in his mouth. That’s right. Give me a fucking reason to beat it out of you.

  “You can’t protect that whore. He’ll get his queen back. Even if he has to go through you. She’ll go back to where she belongs, and when she does, she’ll hurt real bad. But after six or seven of us, she’ll get used to it or die trying.”

  My vision dims, my mind going blank as heat suffocates any and all reason. I act out of instinct. Primal fucking brutality. I’m not inside my mind even though I’m guiding my body.

  I hear the screams, his wails, faint at first, then gaining in volume as my mind catches up, zooming me into focus. The smell of burning flesh engulfs my senses, and my knuckles burn from the strength of my grip on the back of his hair. It’s so hard that I can feel tiny strands breaking free.

  I’m holding Frank in place with my cigar pressed into his eye.

  His pain swallows the silence as I press harder, but I can hear the small sizzle that fills the space. The cigar crumbles, breaking against my strength, and I mash it into his face.

  When I step back, my chest is heaving. I’m unhinged. Pure evil. A fallen angel with a singular purpose.

  “Nobody touches her. You hear that? Nobody!” I bellow, slapping his face.

  I run my hand over my head, pleased as I watch him writhe in pain.

  “You’ll be the message. You’re going to show them that anyone who steps foot in my fucking city leaves in a goddamn body bag if they try to come for what’s mine.”