Russo Saga Collection

by Nicolina Martin

  “I was fifteen when I hit back… Killed him. Burned his fucking corpse. Dumped the remains in fresh concrete at a construction site. No one found him. Quite inventive for a kid, but I was really fucking motivated. It was right after he’d beaten her unconscious. She died later.”

  I wince. “Your mother?” I struggle to keep my voice steady.

  Eric shifts next to me and takes back his arm. “My sister. The cunt that gave birth to us left a few years earlier. If I ever find her, I’ll kill her too,” he says, very matter-of-factly.

  His words hit my chest like a hammer. “I… don’t know what to say. I’m so sorry.”

  “No, you’re not,” he snorts. “You think I deserved it.”

  “No, I don’t,” I quip. “And your sister certainly didn’t deserve it!”

  Eric is quiet again, then he says, barely audible, “She was six.”

  I squeeze my eyes shut to stop the tears that threaten to fall. “I’m sorry… I’m really sorry.”

  “She was beautiful.”

  I can’t stop it anymore; my eyes water and tears spill onto my cheeks.

  “Don’t go soft on me now, Anna.”

  I swallow hard. “What was her name?”

  Eric is quiet, seems to hesitate. “Kimmie. Kimberly.” Then he turns silent.

  “Kimberly Reed.” I taste the name, breaking the moment. “You miss her?”

  “It’s too long ago.” I hear him swallow. “She was… the funniest. Anyway, who’d know if she’d grow up to become fucked-up like me. Perhaps she was better off?”

  “You don’t believe that, do you? Maybe you wouldn’t be where you are today—”

  “I don’t wanna talk about it,” he snaps.

  There is no doubt in my mind that this is real, that he’s telling me the truth. Maybe because of the slight tremor in his voice when he said her name. Maybe because his whole demeanor has been different these last few minutes.

  “Eric Reed really is your name, then?”

  “You doubted it?”

  “Of course I doubted. How can you use your real name? Aren’t you worried you’d be… you know… traced?”

  “What are you saying? You’d track me down?” He sounds amused.

  “Oh no, not me, but…”

  “I have nothing to worry about. I’m untraceable.”

  I frown. “What do you mean? What are you even? Mafia?”

  “Mafia? There’s no such thing as mafia, Anna. It’s bedtime stories. Movie stuff. And yeah, I don’t exist. There are no records that I exist. That I ever existed.”

  “But now I can tell them.” I swallow hard. It’s still a very real fact he might do something about that later on.

  “You can tell anyone whatever the hell you want. It wouldn’t change a thing. I’m just a shadow.”

  “How can you be— That sounds so sad.”

  “It’s suitable.”

  “Back to being the uncaring killer now?” My stomach sinks with the disappointment. I thought we were going somewhere. He started to open up, but now he slams the lid back on.

  “Did you think I was anything else?”

  “For a while I thought so, yes.”

  “Everybody has a story, Anna. Might even be a sad one. Just look at yourself.”

  I flinch. “I don’t wanna talk about that.” My heart leaps from my chest to my throat in sudden panic.

  “Why is that? Afraid of what you’ll see?”

  “What do you care anyway?”

  “Well, since we’re stuck here, and we don’t seem to be going anywhere in quite a while, I wouldn’t mind the distraction.” He nudges my arm. “Come on now, Anna. Long and dirty version.”

  I fight to hold back my tears, as I swallow to rid myself of the lump in my throat. “Maybe if you sounded like you cared.”

  “Bullshit!” he exclaims.

  I jerk at his sudden outburst.

  “You haven’t told a soul, have you?”

  How does he know everything? It can’t be because he’s been following me. It’s not possible. To know this, he needs to be a psychic. Or frighteningly good at reading people.

  “How did he hurt you, Anna?”

  “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “You—”

  “Not with you anyway.”

  He is quiet for a moment before he presses on. “Why not?”

  “Because you haven’t earned that level of trust. You’re also hurting me. Like him.”

  “No, I’m not. Not now.”

  I huff.

  “I haven’t hurt you in that way. Wouldn’t fucking ever.”

  “No, but what’s the difference? I believed I was going to die then. I think I’m going to die now.”

  “Do you?” He sounds surprised.

  “Don’t you?”

  “Not really. We’ll be found in the morning.”

  “How can you be so sure? It’s Friday. And then the holidays.” A tiny hope wants to spark in me, but I crush it. I don’t want to get my hopes up only to be bitterly disappointed when it doesn’t happen.

  “I’m not sure. But what’s the use worrying in advance.”

  Suddenly I’m blinded. We both grunt and cover our eyes. “I don’t know which is worse,” I whimper. “The dark. Or the pain when the light comes back on.”

  Eric rubs his palms over his face and then looks at me wearily. “How did he hurt you?”

  I want to scream at him. His questions rip my heart to pieces. “Drop it. What time is it?”

  He glances at his watch. “Quarter past two. No. I won’t drop it. Vent it. Get it off your chest. You can’t just clam up forever. That man’s still getting to you, he’s still there—” he points at my heart, “—still holding that knife to your throat. You haven’t told a soul. Why not me? I’m soulless anyway.” He winks.

  “I told you why. And… I told the police,” I add. “I’ve talked to people.” My voice wavers. “To friends.”

  He raises an eyebrow. “No, Anna, you didn’t. You’re absolutely awful at lying.”

  I cross my arms over my chest and shuffle to the farthest corner. Not far enough. My stomach hurts. The reminder makes a renewed wave of nausea course through me.

  “He gave you a scar. You were raped. Did you think he would kill you?”

  Tears well up in my eyes and I look away. Yes, I believed I was going to die. Something in me did die. My faith. My sense of self.

  “Yes,” I say in a thick voice, staring intently at my feet. “I was sure he was going to kill me.” A chilling thought strikes me. I turn my head and meet Eric’s curious gaze. “Have you killed people? I mean… other than your dad?”

  He raises his chin and regards me.

  “Forget it. I don’t want to know,” I say quickly, already regretting poking around in what I shouldn’t touch.

  “I have.”

  “Many?” I whisper.

  “Yes, Anna. I have. It’s what I am. I don’t know what you think about me, and I’m not sure I wanna know, but there’s no sugar coating it. I can’t even give you a number. Happy with the answer?”

  A stab of pain shoots through my midsection as I shake my head, the reminder of who he is too hurtful to bear. How? With your bare hands? I study his lean, pale fingers resting on his thighs. Or with a knife? A gun?

  He doesn’t continue. The elephant in the room is gigantic and my heart slams in my chest, my throat constricting. Was he really going to kill me? Is he going to kill me? Unable to think about that, I speak, my voice small and shaky.

  “I was delivering a document to a business owner who had hired our law firm. I was supposed to be met by someone, but no one was there, so I had to leave with unfinished business. There was a dirty yellow van parked in the alley, behind the building, but I hadn’t thought about it twice. He slammed me to the ground and pulled me into the construction site next to where he was parked, hiding me behind some dumpsters as he…” I take a deep breath. “My head hit the asphalt hard. His face was shadowed, a
nd I had the sun in my eyes. I only saw that he grimaced, or grinned… his teeth, they glinted. And how he smelled. Sweat. Grime.” I speak fast, before courage fails me. “And then a sharp pain. Here.” I point at the scar. “And... you know.” I hug my knees and rock back and forth, looking pleadingly at him. Bile rises in my throat and I retch, panicky turning toward the wall.

  “Shh.” Eric moves closer and wraps his arms around me, scooping me closer to him and into a firm embrace.

  I sit frozen, my insides consumed by a chill that spreads through my body.

  “Why didn’t you go to the cops? Call an ambulance? Or a friend? I don’t get it. You must’ve bled like hell. That’s no small scar. Did you patch that up yourself?”

  His kind voice releases the aching lump in my throat. A sobbing intake of air, and then I can’t stop the tears anymore. “Yeah, it bled,” I whisper. “I had a friend, long time ago, who went through that... thing. Humiliating. I couldn’t! I drove home.”

  “Okay,” he says.

  Then we sit in silence until my tears stop falling and my wet cheeks dry up. Straightening, I pull myself back together, like so many times before. I ease out of his hold and he drops his arms, releasing me as he pushes away, giving me some much-needed distance.

  “You gotta let it go. Don’t let him win over you, day after day.”

  I snort. What would be the point? I’ll die in a few hours anyway, stuck here, or by his hands. He hasn’t said he won’t. And I’m unable to ask. I don’t want to hear the answer.

  “I tried,” I mumble.

  “Say what?”

  “Don’t you think I’ve tried?” I say a little louder.

  The light flickers and then it disappears again.

  I sigh. “What do you make of that?”

  “The light? No clue. So, have you?”

  “Have I what?” Oh. I open my mouth to protest, but then I shut it again. Have I tried? Or have I succumbed? “Why? Why is this important to you?” I blink, trying to adjust to the darkness once again.

  “Oh, it isn’t.”

  “You’re lying.”

  “I am?”

  “Yeah. I saw you when you discovered the scar. It bothered you.”

  Eric shuffles nearer until we sit side by side again. I don’t move away. It doesn’t matter anymore. I’m too exhausted.

  He clears his throat, then he’s silent a little too long before he speaks again, “It struck me as unnecessary. I felt sorry for you.” He straightens. “And don’t think you’ll ever hear me say that again.”

  I give out a short laugh.

  “I like your laugh,” he says unexpectedly.

  “I like yours too.” It slips out before I can stop it. I bite my lip as my cheeks grow hot. For once I bless the lack of light.

  We both turn silent. I think about the little he told me about himself. I’m willing to bet it’s more than he’s shared with anyone for a long time. He’s probably as unaccustomed to talking about himself as I am. Eric shifts, and I stiffen when he lays his arm around my shoulders.

  “Relax, Anna Raymond,” he whispers in my ear. “I’m just cold… and tired.”

  I’m tired too. Tired and desolate. “Okay,” I whisper back and try to relax into his embrace. He shuffles even closer and our bodies mold into each other’s as time goes by.

  Chapter 13

  Eric

  She’s so small in my arms. I’m baffled that she actually allows me to hold her after all I’ve done to her, after what I just told her about what I do. I can almost feel the winds shifting, the change between us. I’ve gone from not knowing her, to being curious, to absolutely hating her, to kind of liking her a little. She’s stronger than she looks, and it pulls me toward her, making me want to know more.

  “What were you like before, Anna?”

  She twitches. We’ve both been silent a long time. “What do you mean?”

  “Before the rape. Were you always this reserved? Or were you more of the generic happy-go-lucky Cali girl?”

  “I was a little more easy-going, I guess.”

  “Had any relationships?”

  She stiffens. “Only one.”

  “Really? A good-looking girl like yourself?”

  She scoffs. “Don’t sound so surprised. Have you had many, then?”

  I grin, which she of course can’t see. “What do you count as a relationship?”

  “Someone you’re exclusive with, I guess. Like, you meet each other’s parents, and get to know each other’s friends. Like that.”

  I frown. I’ve never wanted to get close to anyone in my life. No friend, no steady lover. No one. I guess you could say I have commitment issues. Thinking about it, I’m probably a master at repelling people. I either make them cry, or I kill them.

  “Then… I haven’t had any relationship at all.”

  “What? Really?”

  “What’s with the surprise?”

  “You’re… I mean, you’re not that young and you look really good, I mean…” Her voice fades.

  “That doesn’t mean I’ve been lacking bed partners, love.”

  “Oh, uhm, I see,” she stutters. “I’m stupid. I’m sorry I asked.”

  I’m not the least sorry she asked. My cock has jumped to life at the topic and I’m happy at least one part of me is having fun. “Do you mean to say… Anna, you’ve had more sex partners than one, right?”

  “No.” She swallows so hard I hear the gulp.

  “Okay, haven’t you missed that? At least before, you know… I mean, sex is the most primal of our instincts. I think people can forego food and sleep, as long as they get to fuck.”

  She flinches and tenses up. Her breathing changes. “I don’t think that’s completely accurate, and yeah, a little maybe.”

  I laugh. “So, what did you miss about it?”

  She squirms, I tighten my hold around her a little, a tingly sensation flaring in the pit of my belly.

  “The usual,” she whispers.

  “Honey, I have no idea what the ‘usual’ is.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I don’t exactly do ‘usual’.”

  “What do you do, then?”

  “Are you seriously asking that?”

  “Why not?”

  “You don’t know what you’re getting into.”

  “What’s the worst that can happen? I mean… we’re only talking, right?” Her voice trembles slightly.

  “Yes,” I say patiently, “we’re only talking.” In this exact moment I want to push her to the floor and ravage her, but I’ll never let her know that. I’m not sure where this do-gooder thing in me suddenly comes from. But I’m no Christian Russo.

  “And that’s all we’re gonna do, right?”

  “Yes, Anna. That’s all we’re gonna do. I’m not gonna touch you. I might kill people for a living, but I don’t force myself on unwilling women. I do force myself on willing women, though…” In the dark I don’t have to hide the smile, wondering how she’ll react to that.

  “How?” she gasps. “I can’t even begin to imagine what you mean.”

  “Oh, this is going to be fun.” I grin from ear to ear and discreetly correct my pants.

  “Yeah? So… what is it you do, I mean… Force? Do you hit them?”

  “Well, it’s a little more complicated than that. It sounds like you’re asking if I beat my women, as in assault, and no, I don’t do that.”

  “But what you do… do they like it?”

  “Sometimes. There are a few who never want to see me again.”

  “What? Why?” The pitch of her voice rises.

  “I can be a bit rough, babe.”

  “How?”

  “I like to inflict pain.”

  “How?”

  “Aren’t you the curious little one?”

  She inhales sharply. “We’re just talking, right?”

  “Yes, Anna. We’re just talking.” I say patiently. Yeah, we’re just talking, but the air is getting thicker, headier.r />
  “Then how?”

  “I tie them up. And spank them until they cry for mercy. And then some more.”

  She gasps. “Is that even allowed? Isn’t it illegal or something?”

  I bark out a laugh. “Yes, it’s allowed. They’re with me of their own free will.”

  “But, isn’t there supposed to be something they can say to stop you?”

  I nudge her shoulder. “You know a lot of things for being such an innocent girl.”

  “I may be inexperienced, but I can read.”

  “Fifty Shades of Gray?”

  “No!” she gasps. “I don’t read stuff like that.”

  “Fair enough. They don’t want to safeword. Or most don’t.”

  “Why?”

  “Because by then they want my cock too fucking bad.”

  “Why?” she says on an exhale, a breathy sound that is the sexiest thing I’ve heard in a long while.

  I squirm. It’s getting hot in here. “Because I don’t only hurt, I make them balance on the edge of orgasm for hours and hours, until they don’t know what’s pain and what’s pleasure. Also, I’m really well equipped, and I know how to use it.”

  “You’re awfully mean.”

  “Oh, yes.”

  “What do you get out of this?”

  I lean in, putting my mouth to her ear. “The power. Someone submitting to me is… it’s a rush. It turns me on, both body and mind. I don’t know if it can be explained.”

  Her breaths get more erratic, I swear I can hear her heart pounding. “What does a woman get out of this? At all? It sounds like torture. I don’t think I’d like to be tortured.”

  “You think. But you don’t know if you would.”

  “Oh, I’m sure I wouldn’t want that.”

  “There’s an emotional release in letting go, hon, in submitting to someone else’s will.”

  “I can’t imagine that. It sounds like shit sadists say to excuse themselves.”

  “Maybe you should give it a try? See for yourself?”

  She scoffs. “No.”

  “I think you’d like it.”

  “No way! And it’s not like I’m meeting anyone who’s into that kind of activity, anyway. It’s not like I’m meeting anyone, period. Who’d that be with even? You?”

  My cock is unapologetically rock hard by now. “If you ask nicely,” I purr as I picture bending her over my lap and letting her know fully and completely how there can be release in pain.