by J. L. Beck
“When?” Her expression is lifeless.
“A week before Vegas.” I swallow, waiting for the breakdown to come, for the tears to slip down her face, and her heart to shatter into a million pieces.
She shakes her head, causing blond strands to fly. “I saw her. I saw her in Vegas. She was there the night that you took me. I saw her, Ivan.” Her voice is frantic.
“I already told you, Violet, it was the drugs. They messed with your head. You couldn't have seen her because she was already dead then. She’s been dead for five weeks now, days before the auction.”
“Five weeks? You are telling me, you knew she has been dead for five weeks and you… you didn’t say anything this whole time?” She starts to pull away, but I can’t let her go, not when she’s angry, not like this. I try to grab her hand again put she just pulls away farther.
“Do not touch me,” she growls, shrugging out of my hold. I’m angry at myself and at my need to love and care for her. If I didn’t want her so much, if I didn’t love her, then maybe we wouldn’t be in this situation right now.
“I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want to hurt you.”
She gives me a sour look. “No, Ivan, you didn’t tell me because you didn’t want to. You had numerous times to tell me. You chose not to, probably because you didn’t want me to stop fucking you, or ruin our little game of house, or whatever this is we’re doing.”
“This…” I gesture between us, my voice rising “It isn’t a fucking game to me, Violet.”
She tilts her head sideways. “Well, I couldn’t fucking tell. Not since you told me that you couldn’t keep me, or what was it, you wouldn’t?”
I clench my teeth and reach out for the nearest object that isn’t her. I need to break something, hurt something. My hands land on a fucking statue, and I toss it, watching as it breaks, shattering as is lands against the wall. I slam my closed fists down on the table, loving the pain that radiates up my arms. Then I toss the fucking thing like it weighs nothing.
Violet startles, fear fills her eyes, and she takes a couple shaky steps backward and away from me. Everything she said, she fucking meant, and it hurts. It feels like someone’s stabbed me right in the fucking chest. Like I’m losing my sister all over again.
“Just go to the fucking bedroom!” I order. I don’t want her anywhere near me right now. I feel out of control; anger ripples through me. Hurting her is the last thing I want to do. I’d kill myself if I ever put my hands on her like that.
“What the fuck is going on out here?” Roman appears in the doorway, concern etched into his features. He looks between Violet and I, shaking his head. Violet, of course, takes that moment to slip out of the room, running away toward our bedroom.
“What the fuck, Ivan?” Roman repeats his question but I still don’t have an answer to give him. I just want to grab something else and break it. This anger overcoming my body needs to be released.
How could she say those things? I risked it all for her. I’m in here now because of her.
I want to throttle her, shake her until she starts to think clearly again.
“I need to leave… I need out of this fucking house before I do something that I can’t take back.”
“Well, let’s go. You can let out some steam at the gym. Maybe I’ll kick your ass in the ring for breaking my shit.” Roman grins at me, walking toward the front door.
I follow him, clenching my jaw, holding in the anger. Why did she have to do this to us? Why did she have to keep pushing and pushing? Roman unlocks the car, and I climb into the passenger seat, slamming the door behind me. I don't even tell Violet that we are leaving. I can’t bear to see her like this, and I don’t want to be around her right now. Not when I’m not myself. Plus, she’s mad at me anyway. The best thing for us is space, even if it’s the last thing I want to give her.
We pull out of the driveway and start driving down the road. I stare out the window, wishing I had it in me to just talk to Violet. I hate leaving things the way that we did.
“You want to tell me what’s going on?” Roman questions as if he gives a fuck.
“Nope. There’s things in your life you don’t tell me about, and there are things in my life that I won’t tell you about. Violet is one of those things,” I growl, clenching and unclenching my fists numerous times.
When we finally get to the gym, I head straight for the biggest bag I see and start punching the shit out of it.
Why didn’t I just tell her? Punch. Why did I hurt her? Punch.
Questions swirl inside my head as I keep punching the bag until a sheen of sweat covers my body, my fist aches and my muscles are stiff. Only when it becomes hard to breathe, my chest constricting with each breath I pull in and the pain in my hands becomes unbearable, do I stop.
Roman appears out of thin air, shoving a bottle of water into my face. “Feeling better?”
“A little…” I wipe at my sweaty forehead with my arm. I suck in a ragged breath. “Fuck… how long have we been here?”
Roman gazes down at his imaginary watch as if mocking me. “An hour and a half.”
My face deadpans. “Seriously, how long?”
“About an hour and a half,” he repeats.
“Shit.” A wave of guilt washes over me. “We should get going. I shouldn’t have left Violet alone that long.” I feel like such a douchebag. We just left Violet to deal with her anger and grief all alone. I mean, she might have not wanted me there, but I could’ve asked Roman to stay home with her. I start toward the door and Roman follows.
We are about ten feet from the door when it opens and a guy in a suit walks in. He definitely sticks out like a sore thumb in a place like this, and my first though is that he might be one of Rossi’s guys. Roman and I both freeze, fists clenched, and ready to fight if need be. The unknown man merely holds up his hands, showing us his sweaty palms. He looks familiar but I can’t place him right in this moment.
“I really don’t want to have to use my gun, so please, let’s keep this peaceful, gentlemen.” He lets the door fall closed behind him and then he steps right up to us, holding out his hand as if he expects us to shake it.
Who the fuck is this bastard?
“We haven't met personally, but I’m Damon… Damon Rossi.” The glint in his eyes is irritating as fuck. Neither one of us takes his hand, now that we both know who he is.
Damon fucking Rossi, one of Rossi senior’s sons. Fucking Christ.
You should’ve called him. The thought repeats inside my head. For a moment, I think of Violet and if she’s in danger. There is no way anyone would be willing to show up at Roman’s house, not knowing who he is. But Xander, his men might think otherwise.
Damon drops his hand, and instead, adjusts his tie as if he’s insulted. “First. you don’t return any of my brother’s calls and now, you won’t even greet me as a guest should be greeted?”
I’m anything but happy that he is here. Though I can’t deny that he has some balls walking in here by himself with only a gun.
“I don’t greet guests who show up uninvited.” I cross my arms over my chest. Roman and I are evenly matched in size. We could take him, but something tells me if he disappeared, his brother would be kicking down our doors, and the last thing I need is another Rossi attempting to kill me.
“Ivan,” he smirks, looking me straight in the eyes. “My brother simply wants to talk to you, that’s all. Is it really that hard to pick up a phone? It’s not like he was going to try and kill you… or the girl.”
Anger overcomes me, and I take a step toward him, ready to rip his throat out.
“Ivan,” Roman warns, and I swallow down the rage, knowing beating his face in won’t do me any good. The last thing I need to do is piss more people off.
Damon smirks at my reaction, which only makes me want to hurt him more.
How the fuck does he know about Violet though?
“What do you and your brother want?” I growl, barely holding onto my patience.<
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“Look, I’m serious, he just wants to talk to you. We might be able to help each other out with the bastard known as my father. I mean it. I didn’t come out here to fight with you. That’s just one of the things Xander would like to discuss with you.” Damon looks as if he’s telling the truth, but you can never be sure. I’ve seen Rossi joking with a man one second and pressing a gun to his head the next, splattering his brains all over the fucking place. A man’s word means nothing… only his actions.
“What’s the other thing?” I ask, hoping that it’s not Violet he wants.
“Xander would also like to know what happened to the girl you took from the auction.” Fuck.
“That’s none of his fucking business. The girl is off limits and anyone who tried to hurt her will die. Got it?”
“Xander doesn't want to hurt her; he just wants to talk to her.” Damon stays calm and collected even with me threatening, which is kind of impressive.
“Then why the fuck didn't your brother come here himself?” I sneer.
He looks around as if he is deciding how much information he should give me. Then he sighs as if he’s made up his mind. “He didn’t want to leave his girlfriend, and honestly, I didn’t want to have to leave my wife either, but we can’t all have everything we want.”
Wife? Girlfriend? These men were criminals at their finest. I can’t believe they are openly having women in their lives. Their father would never allow such a thing within his ranks. You don’t get to marry the woman of your dreams… you don’t get to marry anyone at all. Rossi Senior sees relationships as weaknesses, nothing more.
“What do you know about the girl I took?” He hasn’t mentioned Violet’s name yet, so maybe he doesn't know a lot, maybe she’s still safe.
“I know that Violet’s sister has been looking for her.”
My heart slams against my ribcage, and I clench my fist with a fiery rage.
I speak through gritted teeth. “Violet’s sister is dead. Your father told me so. So, don’t come in here lying to me, because I already want to rearrange your fucking face.”
Damon shakes his head slowly. “You really think my brother and I would just leave a helpless girl tied up to the bed? Do you think we’d just light the place up with someone innocent inside of it? What kind of monsters do you think we are?”
My eyes narrow. “I wasn’t aware there were types of monsters.”
Damon smirks as if something I’ve said is funny. “You have very little to be judgy about. We know what you were doing for the last couple of years, so if you want to throw around who the bigger monster is in all of this, we can, but I’m not sure you’re going to like the results.”
“Don’t guilt me, asshole. I know what I fucking did.” Even saving Violet wouldn’t make the memories go away. I knew they hurt women... sold them, raped them, but I always turned a blind eye to those things. Until Violet, that is.
“Good, then you know that we’re all monsters in this, and no one is above the other. The only person who needs to pay and die is my fucking father. If you were smart, you’d help us. It would benefit you just as much. You must be aware of the bounty my father has put out on your head?”
“And what if I don’t do as you say?” I tilt my head at him, daring him to do something, to threaten Violet.
He rolls his shoulders, as if he’s feeling tense. “Then my brother will come here and change your mind and believe me, you don’t want that. It will greatly displease him and definitely cause an issue, since this is a family affair now.”
His statement throws me for a damn loop. What do Ella and Violet have to do with Xander’s family? Damon must see the confusion written all over my face, because a Texas-size smile pulls at his smug lips.
“Ella is Xander's girlfriend, if you haven’t gathered that by now. The one you claim is dead. She saw Violet in Vegas at the auction, where Xander took her to rescue Violet. She saw you carrying her out the back door. She knows her sister is alive, and for your fucking sake, I hope she’s well. So, I guess if you don’t want to deal with Xander, you could always deal with her.”
Fuck. All this fighting with Violet, this entire fucking time was for nothing. All I had to do was believe her. Guilt grips onto me. I need to get back to the house, back to her and apologize, beg and plead for her forgiveness, for breaking her heart, for hurting her.
“Okay, I’ll fucking call him. I’ll set up a meeting with him and see what happens.”
“You’ll call him?” Damon lifts his dark brow in question as he pulls his cell out of his pocket.
“Yes, I’ll fucking call him. Isn’t that what I just told you?”
“Yeah, but I wanted to double check.” He types out something on his phone and pockets the device, looking back up at me.
“It was nice to meet you Ivan, Roman, I look forward to getting to know you both. Hopefully, we will be working together soon.” He walks out of the gym with a smirk on his lips.
Roman, of course, chooses that moment to turn to me, a smile on his lips. “See, it wasn’t that fucking hard, was it? No blood was drawn, and nobody died.”
“Unfortunately,” I whisper under my breath.
“Shut up. Let’s get back to the house so you can make sure Kitten is okay. Something tells me you have a lot of apologizing to do.”
I slug him in the arm. Fuck. I know I do, but that doesn’t mean he has to rub it in.
“Wait till you fall in love. I bet she’ll have you by the balls within a week.”
Roman shakes his head, locking up the gym. “Nope. I don’t do love, big bro. I do fucking, and that’s it. I’m not stupid like you.”
“Being in love isn’t stupid,” I growl, getting in his car.
Roman rolls his eyes, and starts driving us back to the house, back to Violet.
Fuck. I’m going to be on my knees for a while, begging and pleading for her forgiveness.
Chapter Twenty-one
Violet
Hating him would be easier, but whatever I try, I just can’t make myself do it. I know I have every right to hate him after what he did. I should not want him near me. I should want him to never touch me again and yet all I want is for him to be here right now and hold me in his arms.
He didn’t believe me when I told him I saw Ella, because he knew something I didn’t. He could have told me right then or all the other times I’ve ask him about her.
If she is really dead then part of me would be, too. I still can’t wrap my mind around the idea of her being gone. It must be a mistake, right? I’m so confused. My mind is in disarray. What if Ivan is right, and it was the drugs? What if I didn’t see her, and she is really dead? No, no, no… It can’t be true.
I wipe at the tears streaming down my cheeks, and another sob rips from my throat, filling the empty room. I’m angry, sad, and just disappointed in myself and in Ivan.
The things I said. The secret he kept for so long. I think I might’ve been able to handle him keeping it from me if it weren’t for how angry and dismissive he would get every time I brought her up. He knew how important she was to me, how important it was to me to let her know I was okay and the whole time… the whole time, he knew she was dead?
My head starts to hurt, my eyes feel swollen, and my throat burns like hell. I need to get up and get a drink. I get up from the bed and slowly drag myself to the kitchen. The house is unusually quiet, and I wonder if I am actually alone. Would Ivan have truly left me here all alone? The thought hurts me more than I want to admit.
“Hello?” I call down the hall in the open space. “Ivan? Roman?” Complete silence follows. “Anybody?” I sniffle, feeling tears sting my eyes. I walk into the living room and realize that for the first time in many weeks, I am actually alone, completely alone, and not locked up. I would have thought that something like this would feel good, but this freedom is not something I’m used to and to be honest, I feel lost and alone without Ivan.
I wrap my arms around myself and walk into the kitchen, go
ing to the cabinet to get a glass. I grab one and head over to the fridge to get ice and water. When I pass the pantry, I hear the growl of my stomach in my ears.
God, I’m always hungry… always hungry, always tired. It must be all the stress, the worry of the unknown future that has me feeling these things.
I grab a granola bar and walk back out into the kitchen, taking a drink of water as I do so. A part of me wonders what Ivan and Roman are doing right now? Would he leave and find someone else? He was so angry when he left, and I don’t even understand why he was. I’m the one who should have been throwing stuff around, not him.
It’s not like I lied to him. I open the granola bar, sinking my teeth into it, and that’s when I hear it. The sound of glass breaking. My pulse picks up as I walk back toward the bedroom. I can’t tell exactly where the sound came from, but I’ll be safest in our bedroom, right?
I’m halfway down the hall when I hear the sound of heavy footfalls behind me. I twist around just in time to see a figure moving toward me. A scream builds in my throat, but it never comes out. I have no time to react to the intruder who slams into me, pushing me to the ground face first. The glass in my hand is thrown, and glass flies in every direction.
“Hey, bitch.” Luca’s voice turns my blood turns to ice. He’s supposed to be dead. I shot him. I struggle against his hold as best I can, but he’s strong so strong, his body pushes mine into the floor, even as I buck against him.
“I’ve been waiting for you to be alone so I could make you pay for shooting me. Should have made sure I was dead before you left me bleeding on the kitchen floor.”
“L-Luca?” I stutter, not understanding how he is here right now.
“Did you miss me?” His face is so close, I can feel his breath on my skin. I shudder when he starts to kiss my neck. Bile rises in my throat as his erection pressed against my leg.
“What do you think Ivan is going to think when he finds you, thoroughly fucked, my cum dripping from your cunt?”
His words spark so much anger inside of me that I start fighting him… really fighting him. I buck, kick, hit, bite, and scratch. My body moves without thought.
