The Rebel: A Bad Boy Romance

by Aria Ford

  When my hands stretched but felt nothing I turned off the tap, leaning on the sink to stare at the drain. Even the clean dishes weren’t clean; there were still blotches of caked on food and liquid rings. For a moment I basked in the knowledge that I didn’t have to use any of it. Trevor had called me disgusting once, forcing me to eat with my hands.

  Stepping away from the sink, I closed my eyes for a moment to savor the silence. My tormentor was even too nervous to pace, his usual stomping absent on the rickety floors.

  A sharp knock on the door made Trevor curse, and for once I really, truly looked at him. His tousled, dark brown hair didn’t give off that sexy, just rolled out of bed look. Instead it was greasy and shiny, like he couldn’t be bothered to wash it when he showered. It framed what could’ve been a handsome face if he stopped scratching his thick blotches of acne. I was shorter than him by no more than five inches, and an almost foreign feeling settled in my gut.

  He’d ‘cleaned up’ for this meeting, too.

  Flinging the door open, Trevor’s hefty form tensed at what was on the other side. Watching from the kitchen, my feet ached to rock onto my toes as curiosity burned through my eye sockets.

  “M- Mr. Callipicci!” Higher than normal, Trevor’s squeal made me wince as it speared my brain. Holding tight, my lungs seemed to shrink inside my chest as he stumbled back from the door. The barrel of a silenced gun forced him back, and my eyes widened at the absolutely monstrous form that squeezed through the door frame.

  The man had to be well over six feet tall, a pure behemoth; he was so tall he had to duck to fit underneath the archway. A black t-shirt his taut shoulders roped in muscles, but the short caps had been ripped off. His face was shadowed in the beginnings of a beard, and his head capped in short, styled, dark hair

  “Trevor, you cockroach.” It wasn’t the brute of a male that spoke, and I tore my eyes off him to watch a shorter, leaner figure saunter through the door. This new man wore a suit, with a nice tie and his hair slicked back stylishly. His voice held a playfulness to it, and a tremor lodged between my shoulder blades as he offered a cocky smirk. “So, I heard you’re doing business with the Russians, cazzo idiota.”

  No one had noticed me yet; I probably looked like the rest of the house- dingy, dirty, brown. Holding my breath as Trevor stammered stupidly, I ignored the pounding against my skull and the shrill warning sounds that had created it. My legs shook, abdomen clenching tightly, and I wrapped my arms around myself. Trevor tripped over the edge of the torn, decaying sofa with a loud thump, his gaze never wavering from the gun pointed at his forehead.

  “Wh- what are you t- talking about? I would never betray you- never. You… you have my word!” The shorter of the two men grimaced, slowly shaking his head at Trevor’s babbling.

  “Your word is about as reliable scotch tape, Trevor. Not to mention I would never take your word over proof from my spies in the Russian mafia. Why would they lie to me about you- a worm they’ve never had the inclination to know? No- I don’t trust you one bit, cazzo idiota. So you’re going to tell me everything you know and did for those red bastards, and in exchange I’ll have Luciano go easy on you.”

  Turning my gaze back to the beast that stood, rigid, next to his boss, I sucked in air at the orbs that stared back at me. The rich brown color swirled, taking in everything in a single glance even as it left my skin feeling tight. He moved so languidly, never taking his eyes from mine, that I didn’t notice his bulging muscles flex.

  I barely noticed the chink sound that reverberated around the room.

  The floorboards under my feet buckled, and only then could I tear my gaze from Luciano’s. Trevor’s body disappeared over the front of the couch, and I rolled my lower lip between my teeth. Gazing at the spot where he’d just been, my eyes blurred as my brain started to fry trying to process what had just happened.

  “Ragazza di fuoco-” Jumping back, my hands flew to my chest as my heart threatened to squeeze through my ribs. The smaller of the two men stood only a few feet from me, his hands raised in surrender. “Relax… relax. I won’t shoot you.”

  Thick cotton built up inside my mouth, and I choked on the lump that formed in my throat. Backing up, my feet scraped against the wood as my knees knocked together. Every step I took back, the man followed, and a whimper wiggled through the crevices of my blocked airway when my butt hit the sink.

  “Don’t be scared. You’re free to go now.” Taking a large step to the side, he swept his arm out before opening his mouth again. “You should leave before the police get here.”

  My eyes flickered between the two of them, but the rest of my body refused to move. Nothing came to mind; no command or wimpy thought, or even the notion that this man was really going to let me go.

  Flying to Luciano, my eyes instantly sought the gun he still held in his hand. No. No. I’m not free. The thoughts bubbled up like hot tar in my mind; this man would shoot me as soon as stepped a single foot. Shaking my head, I couldn’t hide my shudder as my hair slipped along my skin.

  “Do you understand English? Capisci l'italiano?” Inching back, I ignored the questions the man was asking me to glance at the giant behind him. Luciano’s steps were heavy, hard, forcing the floorboards to creek and groan under his weight. Pushing past his boss roughly, he took the space between us in three strides. Frozen, my foot poised to take another step back, I couldn’t even blink as this monster glared down at me.

  Leaning down, Luciano grunted in my face before his lip curled back to reveal perfect, straight, white teeth. Grabbing my neck, his tight grip drew a gasp from my lips before he straightened.

  “Tell me your name.” The deep, rough timbre that wrapped around me sapped the heat from the room. So close, the little hairs on my face stood up as Luciano’s breath rushed down my cheeks. My feet still touched the floor, but his grip was suffocating. Those tears that had never wanted to fall before suddenly broke free of my lashes, and I took a shallow, gasping breath.

  “A- Ay-ya…” Choking on what little sound I could get out, my lungs burned as black spots assaulted my vision. Before me Luciano tossed his head, but his expression was lost to me as my eyes rolled in their sockets.

  CHAPTER TWO

  AYA

  Waking up slowly, I groaned softly at the light that seeped through my eyelids. Foolishly my groggy mind wondered why the sun could just not rise- just for one day. Snuggling into my pillow, I sunk into the soft comfort beneath me. Relishing these few peaceful minutes, I let myself wake up slowly to postpone the Hellish nightmare I called my life.

  “Luciano, sai che non la lascerò stare qui se non ha alcuna utilità.” Hushed, low, the voice pulled me into consciousness violently. Snapping open, my eyelids crackled from the crust that had built over their seams. My lungs filled from a loud, gasping breath, body shooting up even as my memories made seeing impossible.

  Cradling my head in my trembling hands, I squeezed my temples as images of Trevor’s body hitting the floor rang in my ears. Whimpers slithered up from my dry throat, and under a silk sheet my toes curled as the muscles in my legs became spastic. Taking great, heaving gulps of air, my body struggled as my mind failed to find a distraction.

  “Don’t give me that look. If she’s not useful, she doesn’t stay. I’m not running a house for abused women here, Luciano.” Even muffled by a wall, the words reached me clearly. Squeezing my eyelids shut, I forced my memories back to how Trevor had gotten shot- back to why he’d gotten shot.

  Shivering at the monstrous man that had burst into the apartment, I sniffled hard. Dragging down to my neck, my fingers kneaded the tender area only to stiffen.

  It doesn’t hurt… My brows came together, questions swirling in my mind in an endless loop. He’d choked me; he made me black out.

  “Per cazzo, Luciano! Trovarla un posto e mandarlo lì o metterò una pallottola nel suo cervello.” Slipping into my hair, my fingers balled into fists at the thick, foreign language that breached my ear drums. Rocking slightl
y, I panted shallow breaths as my heart beat in overdrive. “Look at her- she’s pathetic. You should just put her out of her misery now, my friend. It’ll be easier for everyone that way.”

  Thick, callused digits wrapped around my face, and a cry broke through my shivering lips. My bruised side flared with pain, throbbing from my jaw up to my hairline and ear. Tilting my chin, the hand loosened while tears obstructed my vision.

  “Luciano-” Blinking hard, it took me a moment to realize the fingers had slipped from my cheeks. Scooting back to the head of the bed, I shakily wiped my eyes before they settled on the hulking, brutish man that stood at the side.

  “Sylvi.” That one, harsh word held so much weight it threatened to crush me, and I held my breath. Luciano’s hands balled into fists, his bare arms straining as his muscles tensed under his tanned skin.

  He doesn’t even need a gun to kill someone in an instant. The notion made the blood drain from my face, and I shielded my eyes with my palms.

  “Fine, but only because you’re my anima fratello. Basta ricordare che ci sono conseguenze per ogni decisione, non importa quanto piccola.” A door shut as soon as the warning settled heavily on my skin. Blood rushed in my ears from a heart that beat too fast, and my gasping pants echoed in such silence. My mind screamed at me to be quiet; hopefully the menacing male would just forget I was here.

  Just like everyone else had forgotten me.

  “Aya.” Stiffening at the low, growling call, my body seized and my heart jumped into my throat. Those fingers I was becoming familiar with wrapped around my wrists, their grip so tight it drew a whimper from my dry mouth. Prying my hands away, Luciano anchored them to the headboard to search my face with dark, violent eyes. Holding my breath, a surge of panic filled my lungs instead when he scowled.

  “Tell me why.” The steel edge of Luciano’s voice licked my skin as if it were an actual, physical knife. Wincing, I sucked in a shallow, heavy breath only to choke as it tried to pass my blocked throat. Squeezing my wrists, he leaned in until his nose touched mine, a sneer replacing his scowl when my hacking coughs plastered along his chin. “Tell me.”

  “I- I… I-” Within the confines of my skull my brain tried desperately to come up with words. Gulping harshly, my throat burned as Luciano grunted low. “I- I’m… M-my parents d- died… OD… and T- Trevor… col- c-…”

  A harsh, deep rumbling sound cut off my shaking explanation, and a scared mewl breached my open lips. Shuttering my eyelids, I turned my face away to hover up air that smelled like blood and sweat. Luciano’s grasp on one of my wrists loosened, trailing down my arm roughly until he reached my face.

  "Tell me who you are.” Stroking my bruised, aching cheek, Luciano bit out the demand; his warm breath swept down to settle against my collar bone. Taking another shallow inhale, I fought the panic that rose up inside me as he probed my injury.

  “A- Aya… Aya Wal- W- Walt-ers… Twe- twen-n-ty th-… two… 0- 0… 09- 77-… 6- 69..24…” Stuttering, my words barely made sense even to me, but Luciano simply grunted. My mind wailed, silently berating me for answering so thoroughly.

  “You’re lucky, Aya- lucky that fucking pea brain piece of shit decided to play both sides. You’re lucky I was the one that got to you instead of those cunts, the Russians. You’re lucky Sylvi is my brother, or he would’ve shot your brains out of your pretty head along with that traitor’s.” Through my teeth chattering I heard a faint accent, and Luciano grabbed my chin in an iron grip. Forcing my head straight, he brought his other hand down around my neck, but my own didn’t fall. “Look at me.”

  The command violently pulled at me, and I cracked open one eye as my breath caught against his hand. Luciano’s face was so close it was distorted; only a few centimeters and his light beard would scratch my skin. Carefully opening my eye on my injured side, I watched his almost black gaze swirl like endless pits.

  “Be grateful.” Widening, my eyes took in this man that never asked for anything, instead always demanding. His brows were thick, coming together over a long nose littered with bumps and crevices where it’d been broken. There were thin, almost unnoticeable white lines under his eyes where he’d been punched and the skin had broken.

  All of it framed orbs that looked blacker than the deepest part of Hell, holding a murderous turbulence that made goosebumps rise on my skin.

  Slowly, oh so carefully, I leaned the tiny space between us, and Luciano did nothing to stop me. His palm was firm around my neck but didn’t push against my airway. My tongue sneaked out to pat my lips, but it did nothing to help the dry, crackling flesh. Tilting my head, I trembled as he cupped my discolored flesh as if I was made of glass; it was so gentle I almost couldn’t feel it.

  My lips pressed against Luciano’s nose, the split edges catching on the roughness of his skin. Underneath, the point where his bone had broken and healed were distinct. For a long, heavy moment I kissed that spot, but it couldn’t have been over soon enough. Pulling away, I held my breath as he pushed me back against the headboard. His gaze never dropped mine, the darkness causing my insides to twist and knot.

  “Strip. Use the shower in there-” Jerking his chin to the right, Luciano squeezed my neck as his rough voice bore down on me. “Don’t do anything stupid- like try to leave. You won’t like the outcome.”

  Releasing me, Luciano stood to his full height only to turn on his heel and leave. His jeans rustled as he sauntered, and I couldn’t tear my eyes from his form. Even covered in a wife beater the muscles on his back were pronounced. Slamming the door behind him, he left me alone; the only sound in the room was the echo of his stomping footfall.

  For the first time I noticed the space around me, and I nibbled diligently on my bottom lip. The bed was topped in rumpled, cream colored fabric, and the pillow I was sitting on had small, thin ruffles along the edges. Against my back the headboard’s decorative filigree dug into my flesh, and I winced as my sweaty, dirty skin peeled from the finished surface. Taking a long, slow, stabilizing breath, I closed my eyes and willed my heart to start a regular rhythm.

  Glancing over the side of the bed, my eyes widened at the pristine, fluffy, salt and pepper carpet that coated the floor. Underneath me my feet flexed, calves quivering with the ache to dig my toes deep into the ocean of gray. Pulling my leg out, I clutched the comforter as it caressed my skin.

  Dripping my toe into the half inch long strands, I gasped at the shock that shot up my leg. My shoulders jerked in a shudder, and I groaned softly as I pushed the pad of my foot into the carpet.

  It was so soft, so very soft. The strands slipped between my toes as they flexed and curled.

  CHAPTER THREE

  LUCIANO

  “Georgio! È passato molto tempo da quando sei venuto a visitare.” Behind the friendly smile, the enthusiastic greeting, I could smell the frustration that was rolling off Sylvi’s shoulders. Leaning back on my heels, I eyed my brother with a growing scowl dragging down my lips. He was tense, his shoulder stiff under his fine suit and hair tousled from the raking of his fingers. Offering Georgio his hand, Sylvi stood tall and firm- but I knew the truth.

  My brother was fucking pissed.

  “Sylvi, my boy. We are in America! Let us speak English, yeah? So, explain to me what has been happening. I am to understand that with you in charge things have been… exploding.” I had to suppress a snort, and my gaze shifted easily to Georgio’s silver topped form. He might’ve been old, but he could give a good fight and proved it. Even just stepping away from Sylvi, the man screamed authority and power. His thick Italian accent settled heavily on the quiet tarmac, and my eyelid twitched in annoyance as Sylvi chuckled.

  “Booming, Georgio. Business is booming. And yes, I like to think I’m an improvement over Luccia. Come. Let’s take a ride and we can discuss all that you want. I’m sure you remember Luciano, my best man.” Turning to me, Sylvi nodded his head even as my ire rose. Intelligent, blue eyes met mine, narrowing as they shrewdly skimmed my face and over my shoulders.
Everywhere Georgio’s gaze lingered appreciatively I felt the urge to burn my skin off.

  “Of course I remember. I was interested in him myself once, you know, Sylvi.” My pupils constricted to fine points at Georgio’s slight smirk, and my lip curled into a nasty snarl.

  “I’ll never go back to Italy for you, old man.” If it had been anyone else, he probably would’ve had a heart attack as my voice ricocheted off the concrete. Georgio only nodded, his sharp eyes narrowing into slits despite the fact that he had lost this fight long ago.

  “I’m very aware you prefer Sylvi to myself, Luciano. I can attribute your success here in America to his bond with you. I have no intention of severing it. Even the thought of you fighting cannot dredge up that casket.” Letting out a hot, hard breath, I pursed my lips together before Sylvi finally got between us. His cleanly shaven face was nothing short of bemused; he couldn’t hide the satisfaction that he had something Georgio would never get it hands on.

  “Now, now. Let’s not get side tracked, Georgio. It’s good you two got this out of the way considering we’ll have an hour car ride ahead of us, though.” Easing the tension, Sylvi flashed a charming smile at his boss before holding his arm out. “Allow me to assist you. I would like to discuss the past few years better now that we’re face to face once again.”