Page 59 of The Sicilian Bastard
Araceli
Someone was screaming. That someone was me. A broken howl wailed out of my mouth as I stabbed my father repeatedly. When the office door opened and I saw him alone, I couldn't take it. The rage that welled up in my body shocked me. I wanted him dead. I needed him dead. I also needed to be the person who did it. I felt Luciano at my back as he took the knife from my death grip. I hadn't realized I was straddling the body. Blood pooled down my legs from his numerous wounds. I was numb. This was a long time coming. Now, I was finally free if the entire inner circle was gone.
Luciano wrapped his arms around my body and hefted me off the body of my late father. He cuddled me from behind until the tremors ceased. He held me like I needed. I was free. It was a hard concept to get in my head. I'd never been free before so I didn't know what I should do. Even when I was stripping, I was free, but I wasn't absolutely free. Now, I was and I didn't know what to do.
"I guess I don't have to leave Vegas anymore," I muttered.
Luciano's arms tensed around me. He started to massage my shoulders. I moaned as my head lolled back on his shoulder.
"Do you think your brother will rehire me at the club?" I went on, oblivious to the tension in the air.
Luciano hummed and his fingers dug into my shoulders. I tried to shake him off but one arm snaked around my waist.
"No. No. No. Luciano, don't do this." He was going to kill me. I was ready to hyperventilate. I thought I could trust him. He increased pressure while I tried to gasp around his arm. I should've run when I saw him. I should never have trusted him. I was so stupid.
"Relax, it'll all be over soon." That was the last thing he said as the black spots increased in my vision. I passed out shortly after.
The next time I opened my eyes, I squeaked in surprise. I don't know why I was surprised. I was back on the Picone compound. Back in the room I first woke up in the night Luciano stole me from the strip club. It seemed so long ago. I was naked. The water was running in the bathroom. I got off the bed and followed the sound. Luciano was sitting on the side of the tub, shirtless, filling it.
"What are you doing?" I croaked. I wasn't going to be screaming and crying after being kidnappedagain.
The bathroom wasn't warm like normal. I tilted my head and peered into the tub. A normal bath would steam the mirror, but the mirror was clear. I noticed there were a ton of things floating in the water. Luciano turned off the water and looked at me.
"Get in." His raspy tenor lit fireworks in my belly. I clambered over the lip of the tub and touched the water with my toe. I pulled back with an audible gasp. The water was freezing. I stepped away from the tub, ready to leave the bathroom.
"I said, get in." He grabbed me by the waist andhelpedme into the tub.
The water was cold. I stood in the tub, unwilling to do anything else. Luciano didn't give me a choice, though. He pressed me down until I sank down into the tub, fully submerging my body. I ducked under the water, hoping if I wet my hair, it would help me stay at the same temperature. Nothing helped. My teeth chattered and my body was shaking. I wanted to beg Luciano to let me out, but when I looked over at him, he had his back to me. I grunted, trying to get his attention, but he refused to look at me. Finally, I snapped and touched him gently. He turned silently, his predatory gaze watching me. He didn't speak to me. It dawned on me that he was giving me the silent treatment. "I'm s-s-sorry," I hissed.
Luciano grunted but didn't say anything.
"L-l-look at me," I cried. The longer the silence stretched between us, the worse I felt.
This was worse than being used by the men who called themselves my family. Luciano was punishing me. I wanted to understand what I did wrong. So, instead of begging him to give me a drop of attention, instead of begging him for a drop of affection, I, too, became silent. I curled my knees up to my chin and shivered as quietly as possible. My chest hurt. The pain was deep and hollow. It wasn't like the pain he gave me from sex. This was worse, deeper. It cut like a knife. I felt like my innards were outward. Gutted. Betrayed. Hurt. Then it hit me. Luciano wanted me to feel these things. He wanted me to feel the way he felt when I left him. It didn't matter that he hurt me. It didn't matter that he slung vile words my way. I still chose the greater evil. I chose to go back to the family who wanted me dead. I chose to go back to my abusers. I could've gone anywhere else in the world, but I didn't. I wanted him to hurt. Subconsciously, I wanted to die so Luciano would hurt as I did.
"I understand," I murmured. My vision was hazy and I felt like I had clarity.
Luciano finally turned around. His face was shrouded with shadows. He reached right into the tub and pulled me out, wet and dripping against him. He didn't grab a towel for me and I didn't deserve one. Yes, he hurt me, but I hurt him worse. I hurt him and then I hurt myself. By the time we made it back to the bedroom, I was a sobbing mess. There would be no subspace, not this time. I was being rightly punished. Luciano laid me down on the bed, letting me soak the sheets. He climbed over my body and stared. He leaned over me and inhaled my scent. His body shuddered over top of mine.
"I was so afraid I would never see you again." Luciano bit my neck, drawing a yelp from me. My body pulsed with need, but I didn't voice it. This was his show. He needed more from me than a little pain slut. I waited for his signals.
I gave in and whimpered, "I'm sorry."
Luciano nodded against my neck. He hadn't let me go yet. I felt like there was hope for both of us. In this instant, I didn't want to be his kidnapped victim anymore. I wanted us to be equals. I wanted to be his woman. It wasn't enough. I needed to convey to him that I was his. That I would never leave again. It hit me that after I killed my father, I started talking about leaving. I didn't mean it. I think I wanted to push his buttons. Me threatening to leave was apparently a hot button for him.
"I didn't really mean it," I breathed against his skin.
"You didn't mean what?" he rumbled against my neck.
"I didn't mean it when I said I had no reason to leave Las Vegas. I do." It was time to shoot my shot. He wanted me, he showed me that he did. It was time for me to commit.
"What do you have to stay here for? Because you're homeless? Jobless? Hmmm. Tell me!" He shouted his fury straight into my ear. I whimpered under the onslaught of his pain. No one ever wanted Luciano. No one had ever claimed him. He was the literal red-headed stepchild. He lived in the dark. Never getting acknowledged for the work he did. Never getting his spot in the family business.
"For you!" I screamed at him. I thrust my hips upwards, moving him off me. The only reason I was strong enough was because he was too shocked to stop me. Luciano get off the bed and paced back and forth.
"Liar! You don't want me. You never wanted me. I stole you. I hurt you. I am a monster." With each sentence, he emphasized by beating his chest with a fist.
"Not true; we love each other. We both said it. I meant it, did you?" It grew quiet between us. The silence grew and my eyelids moistened. He didn't love me. He didn't mean it. It was only a game. It was something he said to women to gain their trust. I wanted to be his ride or die. I wanted to be his forever. I guessed he didn't feel the same. I climbed off the bed and headed to the closet. I started grabbing clothes.
