Page 35 of Bad for You

The man steps forward.

The smell of cigars and heavy-handed cologne brings me back in time.

He loops his arm through mine, escorting me away.

I don’t turn away, but I hear something which warms my heart.

“You cannot fight her battles,” Gianna says in Italian.

Lenny tried to help me, and I need to prove to him that I don’t need his help. I don’t need anyone.

Confidence courses through me, and I allow this asshole to believe I’m his willing fuck doll to do with what he wills.

I don’t care if he is Gianna’s friend.

I don’t care if this is his grand home and this is his lush affair.

And that’s because I don’t care—period.

I’m so broken; I don’t think I can ever be repaired.

So tonight, he dies—and dies by my hand.

My first kill…

Is this why Gianna brought me here? Dressed me in the fanciest silks to take the life of a man who deserves to be dead?

We ascend the staircase, and it disgusts me that no one seems to care when a man escorts a girl half his age upstairs. Perhaps this is because they’re just as vile as he.

We walk down a long hallway, and I admire a marble statue of a cherub playing a harp. So pretty. Such pretties disguise what lurks behind this wealth.

He opens a door. A very extravagant bedroom is behind the white door.

We step inside, and I smell the same cologne he wears. This is his room.

He closes the door and leans against it with a grin.

He takes his time examining me, making no secret of what he’s thinking. The look reminds me of all the times I was brought down to that basement. Of all the times my body was desecrated in a place that should have been holy.

“You don’t understand English?”

I simply smile.

I wonder if he knows Aldo. I want to ask, but I cannot. I need to just exist.

He pushes off the door, raising his hands like he means no harm. But I know what those hands can do. “We’re just going to have some fun,” he says, but clucks his tongue. “Don’t know why I’m bothering. You can’t understand a fucking word I’m saying.”

He laughs.

I continue to smile.

The closer he gets, the more intense the memories invade my mind.

Squeak…

Squeak, squeak…

Squeak, squeak, squeak…

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