Page 18 of As Devils Love

However, since she’s the reason I brought him here, I might as well go along with it.

“First girl who ever caught my attention. Genuinely snatched it by the throat and squeezed until I could hardly think straight, and it turns out she has an appointment in that chair you’re sitting in. Mind you, if I keep up my good work, she should be down here in two weeks. Three, if I want to extend my fun. Life’s a cruel bitch, isn’t she?”

“So, what? You’re taking your anger out on us, because you have to kill the don’s daughter?” Rocco’s trying to find a reason where there is none. Like a puppy chasing its tail. Even if he managed to catch it, he’d only hurt himself by biting down on it.

“No. I’m killing you because I want to. Because it stills the noise in my head and satiates the loudest voice that is screaming to burn this whole world to the ground. My situation with Fiametta is unique. Uncomfortable. Definitely unsustainable.” I toss my head around while I speak. It isn’t doing anything in particular to help me think, but it feels nice. “And yet, I can’t get her out of my head.”

Rocco tests his bonds again, straining every muscle in his body to break free of them. But after a short fight, he starts panting, out of breath, and settles down.

“You wanna know when I knew she wasn’t just another name on a list?” At this point I’m talking more to myself than Rocco. Saying the words that plague me out loud to see if it’ll give me a new perspective. “I snuck into her room the other night. Considered the kill, but it was only a fleeting thought. All I could do was drop down to my knees and—” Worship isn’t the right word. Neither is praise. But other than devouring her cunt, they’re the closest I can find to what I wanted to do. “The really strange part is that I’m following her around. You might think,jeez, Crue, how is that strange? Well, I’ll tell you Rocco, ol’ pal. It’s because it doesn’t feel like a hunt anymore. I’m intrigued by her beyond the thrill of seeing her flame extinguished.”

I shake my head to fight off intrusive thoughts of Fiametta. My mouth against her skin. My nose close enough to breathe in her scent. My tongue inches out of reach from its first taste.

“Anyway, let’s not go there. I’m going cross-eyed.”

“No, no, tell me about it,” Rocco says, adjusting himself to sit upright in his chair. He’s definitely stalling for time. Smart man, if he actually stood a chance of escaping here.

“Nothing more to tell. See, there’s a duality situation going on. On one hand, she shook me to the core, and I don’t think I’ll ever be able to look at another woman in the same way.” I fiddle with my blade intentionally to keep it in the forefront of Rocco’s mind. “On the other hand, if I kill Fiametta I’ll be avenging my mom. I’ll also be causing Lorenzo tremendous pain and anguish, and he is the one who took the only person who meant something away from me. It’s poetic, really.”

“Your... mom?” Rocco swallows but chokes on the dryness in his mouth. “I knew I recognized you,” he suddenly roars, attempting once more to fight the solid steel chains. This time, he doesn’t give up on the first flex of his oversized muscles.

“You’re right. I was there.” I crack my neck from side to side and stand upright. “You were there. Mom was there too, though I guess we wouldn’t be here if she wasn’t.”

“I was just following orders, man,” he is shouting now, with tears streaming down his face and snot dribbling out of his nostrils. His weeping gets worse as I take my first step toward him.

“Orders?” I snap my right arm down to my side, watching his eyes follow the movement of my blade. “That’s what I’m doing now. So, don’t cry about it. We’re both big boys. We chose to play this game, and it landed us where it did.”

“I’m sorry,” he sputters. “Please don’t do this.”

“Are you mocking me?” I raise a brow at him. Obviously, he isn’t. This is his final desperate plea to stay alive. But I can still hear the way my mother said those exact words to him and the others who were huddled around her. “You laughed when she begged for her release. Bellowed, when I did the same. Howled at the moon when you shoved her face into the mud and made her choke on it. Not so funny when you’re on the other side of the knife, is it?”

They used a gun, but my point stands.

“It’s not funny. It’s never been funny. It’s a job, man.” He’s still howling, but for very different reasons.

I’m not sure what I was expecting from this impromptu session with Rocco. Answers to questions I don’t know how to ask? Maybe. But beyond the veil of my small delights, my dagger of justice remains ever focused on its task.

Do I feel better? Yes.

No.

Maybe.

At the very least, I’ve managed to admit my interest in Fiametta to myself.

They won’t change anything. She still has to die. Just like the heavy chunk of testosterone infused meat, screamingPlease don’t do thisin front of me.

But it’s good to come to terms with the oddness.

“Ah, well, there’s no easy way to do this, so—” I slip the point of my blade into Rocco’s neck. With a flick of my wrist, I sever his carotid artery and within seconds, he’s choking on his own blood.

This is real poetry. Feelings come and go, but taking a life lasts forever.

But if that’s true, why do I want to see Fiametta again?

Chapter Six

FIAMETTA

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