Unbroken

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Unbroken Page 24

by Aria Ford


  “I hate a lot of people that go there, not just the Russians, Aya. But this way I can kill them without worrying about retribution or innocent people getting caught in the cross hairs.” Reaching across the car, I held Luciano’s cigarette as he slowed down the vehicle even more. His answer surprised me; I didn’t think he cared about that kind of thing.

  It’s honorable. Tiny, the thought bubbled up in my mind as he took a deep drag of his cigarette. My mind drifted as Luciano took an off ramp. Sure he does kill people… but- but it’s not like he kills the wrong people…

  Furrowing my brows, my face scrunched up and a sigh flowed from my mouth. Cigarette smoke slithered over my tongue, but I simply ignored it.

  “Tell me what’s bothering you.” Luciano’s hand appeared before I had time to react, snatching his cigarette from between my fingers. His demand wrapped around my brain; his tone forcing me to answer. Licking my lips absently, I flexed my fingers against my seat belt before opening my mouth.

  “You only kill bad guys?” To my ears my question sounded small, and I trained my gaze on my lap. The car rolled to a stop, and Luciano exhaled harshly only to send smoke billowing at me.

  “I don’t kill people just because I can. Like Trevor- he betrayed us. He played double with the Russians, so he was a dead man walking. It was only a matter of time before we found out, and he wasn’t important enough to do any damage. But…” Cringing at the example, I bit down on my inner cheek. “I do kill people that ask. People that look at me and know I’m a killer, and they have nowhere else to go or no one to turn to. I once killed a woman so her 14 year old daughter could have her life insurance policy.”

  Whipping up, my head felt heavy as Luciano spoke so casually, so flippantly, about killing someone. He sucked on his cigarette, his chest expanding underneath his plain, gray wife beater. The muscles in his arms rippled in the sun that beat down through the windshield, and I blinked at his sudden glow.

  “W- why did you kiss me, Luciano?” Flying from my mouth, the question was high pitched and bounced around the leather interior. Luciano’s gaze met mine, his eyes guarded and his face set hard and stony. Sitting at the stop sign, his car rumbled beneath me and horns honked behind us, but he didn’t seem to notice. Slowly his hand entered my peripheral vision, and my throat tightened with a strangled whimper. My saliva seeped back into its glands, leaving a cotton behind that stuck my tongue to the roof of my mouth.

  Caressing my cheek, Luciano’s soft touch wrenched a gasp from me, and my whole body lurched. The coarse weave of the seat belt dug into my palms, and my abdomen clenched tightly before he opening his mouth.

  “Do I need a reason to kiss you, Aya?” My pupils widened as his tone wrapped around me, forcing welts to rise up from my skin. Blood surged to my head, making me dizzy even as Luciano withdrew his touch. Staring as he stepped on the accelerator, my eyes watered slightly as the true implication of what he’d said hit me in the face.

  “Y- you… you’re… ask-king…? Y- you’re asking… me?” Stumbling over my own confusion, my tongue was heavy and tasted like paint. Am I dreaming? But not even then… Luciano would never ask me a question…

  “Yes.” My heart dropped as if a hundred pound weight had been hoisted onto it. Luciano’s affirmation was tight, hard, almost uncomfortable, and I sucked in air through my teeth. The scenery of the town over passed me by in a blur, but his silhouette was perfectly clear. Gulping harshly, my throat throbbed, and blood rushed in my ears, drowning out the sound of the speeding vehicle.

  “N- no…” Every drop of blood that flowed through me filled my cheeks at my own murmur. Across the center console Luciano tightened his grip on the wheel, causing the leather to creak and groan softly. He seemed to shrink slightly; it was a barely noticeable relaxation of his muscles. The veins spider webbing his arms sunk into his flesh, and he tossed his head from left to right.

  Silence reigned for the rest of the ride, but if Luciano spoke I wouldn’t have heard it. Even that deep, intense voice wasn’t powerful enough to break through my inner ramblings. Staring at my lap, I took a shallow breath while my mind worked at trying to comprehend our exchange. My ears burned, and I reached up with trembling fingers to check for smoke.

  The strip mall I found myself surrounded by was bustling, loud, and my skin crawled from the eyes that skittered my form. Mindless chatter became a drone in the background of my scope of comprehension. Sticking close to Luciano, my body was stiff as he pulled me along the sidewalk by my wrist. Sweat beaded the back of my neck, and my breath came in shallow, harsh pants. Combined with all of the people, the sun’s unwavering rays glared down on me to heat up my insides.

  Tugging me into a nice looking shop, Luciano released my wrist only to press his palm against my back. The floor was empty of people, and even clothes. Instead, there were small, raised platforms and mirrors.

  “Hello, what can I get you this fine day?” The bright, enthusiastic voice gyrated against my ear drums, but there was nowhere to hide. Before me the woman that spoke was dressed elegantly in a long jumper that would’ve brushed the floor if not for her heels. She wore no jewelry aside from the sparkling clip that held back her short, blonde bob.

  “I need something for the Stadium.” Nudged forward, I held my breath as this beautiful woman shifted her attention fully to me. For a moment she just stared, and with each passing millisecond my heart rate sped up. Scrutinizing blue eyes scanned my form from top to bottom, her face morphing with thoughtfulness.

  “If you’ll give me just a moment, I’ll go see what we’ve got for her. Have a seat and I’ll be right back.” Disappearing deep into the store, the clerk left me to stand stiffly by Luciano’s side. His touch didn’t fall from my back, and I leaned into his hand as a trembling sigh surged from my throat. Licking my lips, my tongue only served to dry my sensitive skin as my eyelids flickered.

  It took only three minutes for the woman to come back, and my eyes widened at the fabric that was draped over her arm. Cream colored, the dress was short with only shimmering, transparent sequins at the hem. Carefully the woman held up the piece, and my throat tightened at the sight of it. The skirt was draped in waves that would easily hang at my knees, but it was the top that twisted my insides.

  Stiff bones lined the silk fabric from neckline to waist, and a very pale, green ribbon laced down the front. Licking my lips, I tore my eyes from the dress to look to Luciano. His gaze was firmly on my face, his expression blank but for the intensity of his stare. Nerves tingled my toes, and I turned back to the woman to find a gentle, encouraging smile on her face.

  “This will be perfect for you. We have it in cream, black, red, purple, and blue if you like it. There’s also another style in stock that’s very similar, but instead of full bones there are halves and silk cups. You have beautiful legs, so I brought out the half dress, but we have cocktail lengths as well.” Instantly my chin touched my chest, and heat flooded my cheeks as I spied my legs. My only semi-serious boyfriend had complimented them once, but only because he wanted sex. Gulping down the lump in my throat, I peeked up through my eyelashes to watch the sales woman stifle a laugh.

  “Let’s get you changed and see if you like it. Come with me, please.” On hesitant legs I stepped forward, but Luciano left my lower back feeling cold. Twisting, my neck ached even as he nodded firmly. My gut twisted, but I turned back to the sales woman to inch closer.

  Safely behind the curtain of a dressing room, the woman helped me out of my shirt. Standing naked before her, I struggled to breathe as an emotion I hadn’t felt in a long time washed over me. Self-consciousness and ugliness restricted my lungs. The sales woman in the mirror was beautiful, the picture of poise and grace. Next to her, I wasn’t even worth looking at.

  “I can suggest a nice lingerie store nearby for panties. You may not want to wear them around Luciano, but in public is a different story.” Alarm rippled through me as she carefully pulled my arms up over my head. My heart stuttered in my chest, and I
sputtered slightly before my tongue untwisted.

  “Wh- what? Why?” Standing still, tense, I dug my toes into the tiled floor as silk fabric swathed over my face.

  “You have sex in public, then? I never took Luciano for that type, but then again I don’t know him very well. Sylvi likes to bring his whores here, and Luciano usually accompanies him. I had heard he was very rough with women.” Gently tugging down the dress, the sales woman spoke with a light tone that threatened to knock my legs out from under me. Once my head was free, she caught my wide gaze in the mirror; my face couldn’t get any redder, and she pursed her lips together. “You’re not having sex?”

  Furiously I shook my head, and she hummed softly before bringing my arms down. Adjusting the soft silk against my chest with one hand, she held the back closed until effortlessly pulling up the zipper.

  “Well, I suppose you’re lucky for whatever reason. Luciano’s got a reputation with the working women; no one wants to service him because he’s very violent in bed.”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  LUCIANO

  That fucking cunt said something. Those five words circled my head, dominating my mind and smashing every other thought. Even the image of Aya in that dress couldn’t penetrate the red haze that coated my field of vision. I’ll give her something to fucking gossip about.

  I could feel the change in Aya when she stepped out of the dressing room. I could see the difference in the way she held herself. She tensed when I came nearer and cringed when I touched her, but now it was different. It was as if she was disgusted with me; as if her fear had renewed vigor in a way it hadn’t before.

  Storming through the reception level of a seedy, shit-smelling hotel, my tunnel vision blocked out everything but the purpose that filled me. The sexual tension that had been brewing inside my gut since Aya had washed me had me bristling, and I clenched my hands into tight fists. At the desk the receptionist looked ready to piss himself, and he couldn’t get a word out before I gnashed my teeth at him.

  “Get me Natasha Clevelli. Now!” It had been so fucking easy for Tyler to find out who that store clerk was; even easier to discover that bitch had a little sister that worked a hotel. Jumping and shaking, the receptionist snatched his phone to punch numbers, and I sucked in a hot breath.

  In the 30 seconds or so it took for the whore to appear I began to pace, the movement fueling the anger that swirled inside me like a beast that had been poked with a sharp stick. Natasha looked like her sister, and my eyes narrowed into slits as they scanned her. She was so fucking ugly. Board straight blonde hair reached her shoulder blades, and her body was curved deeply, but she wouldn’t have been on my radar.

  You can blame beloved Big Sis. The dark thought spurred me on, and I grabbed Natasha’s arm. Ignoring the receptionist, I swiped the key from his desk before making my way through the outdated interior. Discomfort seeped from her pores, mixing with fear to create a potent stench that fed the beast inside me.

  Shoving the whore through the open doorway to my designated room, I banished her name from my mind. She was just a slut; a piece of garbage to be used as I wanted. Stumbling, she felt to her knees and tried to scoot back, but I grabbed her by the crown of her head. With my fist in her hair she couldn’t move, and her cry was almost music to my ears.

  “That h- hurts!” Ignoring her pained, loud shriek, I couldn’t hide my smirk; she thought someone would save her.

  But the moment that cunt opened her fucking mouth, she’d sealed her sister’s fate.

  Unfastening my jeans, my hands trembled with the pure, white hot rage that coursed through my veins. My cock ached to be freed, throbbing when my jeans finally hit my ankles. The thing on its knees before my cried tears and snot, blubbering what might’ve been words. Taking my rod in my hand, my lip curled into a snarl when it refused to open its mouth.

  Grabbing its jaw, I squeezed as tightly as I could, and a satisfying pop rang in my ears. The disgusting creature on the floor screamed, high pitched and blood curdling, but its mouth was finally open.

  Shoving my cock through the hot opening, I grunted with the sensation of bending downwards down its throat. Sexual tension exploded in my gut, and I pulled back as a choking gag sounded from below.

  Skull fucking such a revolting creature brought me no pleasure; there was no room for it. My ferocity over the day was all consuming, and my knuckles paled to white in the ocean of blonde they were immersed in. Harsh, pants sounded between thick, heavy grunts, and gagging cries created white noise in the background.

  A symphony- that was what it sounded like.

  Slamming against the back of its throat, my cock rippled with the heat that surrounded me. Again and again I thrust my hips, forcing myself down until I couldn’t anymore. All the while not a single thought broke through the walls around my mind.

  Time lost meaning as I jerked my hips back and forth until my abdomen tightened. My thighs quivered, and I widened my stance as my thrusts were ripped violently from sync. I didn’t pull away as cum shot up my shaft to spurt from my aching head, and I groaned. Muscles spastic, I tightened my grip on it as its throat flexed wildly. It couldn’t swallow; I’d dislocated its jaw. There was no relief to be found even as I experienced my own.

  Tossing this disgusting creature onto the floor, I palmed my cock to pump out any residue. Chest heaving, my heart pounded hard against my ribs as my lungs ached. Clenching my teeth, I stared at the body laying on the ground as it struggled to breathe.

  Should I kill it? The question weighed me down heavily, and after a moment I caught my breath. Pulling up my pants, my hand automatically unsnapped the holster of my gun. The thing on the ground was still oblivious, trying to stay conscious through the pain, and a frown dragged down my lips. Easily taking hold of my 9mm, I pointed the barrel down at its head before pursing my lips together.

  Slowly my arm sunk slightly, only just barely, until my aim was on its lower face instead of its forehead.

  Never before had I failed to hit my target, and now wasn’t any different. The bang of the shot reverberated around the room, a sound I was used to that might give less accustomed ears a ring. On the dirty, crusted carpet, the body jolted, and blood began to pour from the bullet hole. I’d aimed true, and I could easily make out the path of the bullet as it further shattered bone.

  It wasn’t going to die, but it’d never be able to talk again.

  Striding out of the room, I only just realized I hadn’t bothered to shut the door. No one dared to rush to the scene; everyone must’ve been warned I had shown up. There wasn’t a single noise to be heard in the hallway beyond my stomping, and that silence didn’t stir until I reached the street. Heading for my car across the dingy, cracking parking lot, I fished my keys out of my jean pockets.

  My car smells like Aya. That thought as I sat in the driver’s seat brought a sag to my tense shoulders. After I’d had it reupholstered, I started to notice Aya’s natural aroma mixed with soap and shampoo. Taking a deep, hard breath, I savored the scent as the last few hours caught up to me.

  I left Aya in her room after buying her 20 of those dresses, two in each color, one color in each style. She had looked so fucking beautiful that the urge to touch her was overwhelming; more so than in this very vehicle on the way there. Flinching from my hands, she even backed away from me.

  Whatever moment we had before entering that shop had been buried by what she’d learned in the dressing room.

  “Fuck- fuck- fuck- fuck…” Slamming my palms against the edge of the wheel, I grunted with each strike.

  Leaving Aya in her room, I didn’t say a word to her after the dress shop. Instead, I went to Tyler and forced him to find the clerk who’d served us. Then I found the sister.

  And now I’m here. Regret wasn’t present in the volatile mix of emotions that swirled in my chest and tightened my throat. I wasn’t above violence; Sylvi’s kind of sick pleasure, I wouldn’t participate in, but I was no saint. True, I didn’t hurt a woman, but whores
were a different story. I didn’t touch a whore without leaving painful bruises behind. Not a single woman but one.

  That woman was terrified of me now.

  “Sylvi was right- the fucking bastard…” Grinding my molars together, I reached to grab the hand sanitizer in the glove compartment as my mind strayed to that place I hadn’t allowed it yet. “I have to get rid of her.”

  My blood ran cold as I voiced the option aloud, and a fierce ache sprung behind my eyes. Killing Aya was incomprehensible, but there were other ways to remove her from me. Contemplating each one made it harder to breathe and squeezed my heart until it could barely beat.

  The law firm… I’d been putting off bringing Aya to her dead father’s firm, but now it was the perfect excuse. She’d have money, someone to help her find an apartment that she knew and knew her. Glancing at the clock on the dash, my eyes narrowed and a grimace twisted my lips. There wasn’t time to bring her before the Stadium.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  AYA

  My foot tapped silently against the carpeted floor of my room, and I stared at the door with anticipation clenching my abdomen. Hours had passed since Luciano left me, and guilt ate at my insides with every round my memories made inside my skull. Silently berating myself, I curled and spread my fingers before they formed loose fists. Shame battered my eyes from behind their sockets, and I pursed my lips together tightly.

  How could I have been so naive to believe that woman? For hours my mind barely strayed from that question, and only to tell me how stupid I had been.

  Releasing a shaky breath, I glanced at the clock at the head of my bed for the 20th time in half as many second. The time read 5:46P.M., and a groan built up to block my throat.

 

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