The ride back to Angelo’s apartment was slow. For midday, the traffic was a fucking bitch, and I had to keep reminding myself that this was New York City, not Jacksonville Florida.

Angelo had climbed out of the car before Andre had even turned the key to off. “I’m going to work out, Andre will take you upstairs. If you need me, I’ll be in the gym.”

The apartments had all kinds of amenities—a gym, a massive pool, kids playroom, valet, twenty-four-hour doorman, plus so many more.

I didn’t even get time to reply before the door was shut, and he was heading for the parking garage exit.

Andre made his way around to my side, holding the door open as I climbed out.

I looked up and saw his jaw, it was swollen, and the bruising was obviously beginning to show. My stomach sank, guilt flooding in. “I’m sorry for running off, Andre.”

He offered me a smile which was a little lopsided. “I’m fine. Come on. I’ll walk you up. Then I’ll ring Sal’s and get someone to drive that fucking pizza to Brooklyn, ‘cause I don’t know about you, but I’m starving.”

I threw back a half smile and nodded. “Sounds good to me.”

I was really beginning to warm to Andre. We were close in age, and he wasn’t serious like Angelo. I’d seen him have his moments, ones where his face totally transformed into this whole new person, and it was like his body was taken over by anger. But I wasn’t scared of him. I never felt he would hurt me, and that wasn’t just because he was Angelo’s right-hand man.

I really felt guilty about running and not listening when he told me Angelo would be fine. I’d freaked out after hearing the gun shots, my brain telling me to run and find Angelo. I wasn’t sure if it was because I was scared and needed him to make me feel safe, or whether it was because I thought he might be hurt. And the idea of losing another person had been too much for my chest to take.

Either way, what I’d found as I pushed through those doors and into that dank, dark place they were trying to pull off as a restaurant, I was really not prepared for.

The fire in Angelo’s eyes and the power he held in that moment, I was almost ashamed to say sent thrills through my body. He was like a lion, he had his prey in his sights, and he was teasing it, playing with it, before he went in for the kill. I could only stand in shock as I watched how he worked the situation, how he managed to stay so in control and yet be so close to losing his shit.

I wanted to learn control like that over my emotions.

I wanted to be strong, to be able to fight my own battles and be the person that my sister wanted me to be. To feel strong enough to stand up to my father, and tell him that the life he had chosen for me was one I didn’t want.

I wanted to dance.

It was in my blood, pouring through my veins and keeping me alive with rhythm and movement.

I’d never seen Angelo that way, it was as though in my mind I knew exactly what he was capable of, but my eyes needed to witness it for themselves so I could understand exactly the demons that simmered inside him.

It was a shock, when so far I’d only seen him calm, not a hair or word out of place.

Clearly, there was a lot to understand about the mystery that was Angelo, but I was dying to know.

I was going to find out everything about him, even if it took me forever.

I was willing to wait that long.

“Andre?” I said as we sat at the kitchen counter an hour or more later and devouring a slice of pizza each.

“Hmm?” he looked up, a piece of string cheese hanging from his chin.

I licked my lips. It had taken me at least the last ten minutes to figure out how to ask Andre the question I wanted answers to. “Would Angelo have really put that cigar in that man’s eye?”

Andre stopped chewing for a moment and stared at me. Using his tongue to collect the piece of stray cheese, he finally cleared his throat. “Men like Angelo… they don’t make promises they can’t keep. And they definitely don’t make idol threats they won’t follow through with.”

I poked and prodded at the piece of pizza on my plate, squishing the cheese around—all four different varieties.

“How is it so easy to hurt someone?” I questioned.

Andre sighed and placed his half eaten pizza down, turning his body so he could look me in the eyes. “Because it isn’t always about being malicious or psychotic…” he paused. “Some people deserve it,” he replied with very little emotion. “Because sometimes, it’s about making the world a better place or righting a wrong.”

I raised my eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

“Okay,” he said, making his way around the counter and leaning against the wall beside me. “People hurt your sister, right?”

My back went straight, and a chill instantly shot up my spine, making me shudder.

“Do you think it’s something that he will do again?” he asked seriously.

“Yeah, I think if he can do it once, and walk off like it was just another day in the office with no guilt, then yeah… I think he could do it again,” I told him, confused by his line of questioning. I knew it was true though. The guy who’d raped my sister, there was no doubt in my mind that that sicko would do it all over again, or would try to do it to someone else. He’d gotten away with it, so why not?

“And what if you had the opportunity to stop him from doing it again. All it would take was one punch, one shot, one swing at his head with a crowbar and he wouldn’t be able to hurt any more girls. Would you do it?” I let his words seep into my bones. It was an obvious choice, but if I said it out loud then I felt like that would suddenly make it very real.

He’d made his point.

Yeah, there were people out there who hurt others for fun, but that was not who Angelo was, nor was it who Andre was. Whether their reasoning was right or not, there seemed to be a method behind their madness or a reason for what they did.

My head felt like it was going to burst.

Within a couple of days, I felt like my world had been stripped from me and I’d been thrown into the Twilight Zone. I was considering how I could hurt another person. I was plotting in the back of my mind, how I would make it so he couldn’t destroy any more lives. How I would make it so no one else ever had to suffer the same fate as Sophie or me.

Sometimes I wondered whether things could have been different if I’d learned to protect myself, or at least had the courage to fight back. Instead, I’d cowered, pleading for my life while my sister was raped and murdered. I never wanted to feel that weak again.

“I’m going to find Angelo,” I said suddenly, getting up from my chair.

Andre raised a brow in confusion but didn’t stop me. “I’ll walk you down to the gym.”

I wanted to feel stronger. Today, walking into that place and witnessing what was going on, I felt out of my depth and scared. I was sick of being scared.

I knew there was only one person who I wanted to show me how to defend myself. The man who pushed my buttons, and forced me to fight back against him constantly.

Andre held the gym door open as I slipped inside, choosing to stay outside himself. It closed with a soft click behind me, and as I took in the vast space I couldn’t stop my jaw from falling open as I spotted him across the room. My breath hitched.

Angelo’s body sparkled, a sheen of sweat covering his back. He lifted his arms above his head, and the muscles contracted. They were strong and well defined. A pair of shorts hung low on his hips, the trail of dark hair leading from his belly button down and disappearing beneath them, made my heart pound and electricity soar through me.

I clenched my legs together, instantly hot and feeling my clit begin to throb. I couldn’t pull my eyes away as he stretched his body. His skin was smooth and tanned. I wasn’t sure if it was because he spent time in the sun, or whether it was purely his natural skin tone, his Italian blood showing through. I’d never gotten to see him like this as he was always dressed in a suit, sharp and tidy.

This was different, this was him.

I took a step forward, the movement causing him to jerk his head toward me, his eyes alight and aware. Another step forward and I could see his face become tighter. “Emerson,” he growled, a stern warning in his voice telling me that I should stay away.

But I didn’t want to.

I licked my lips as I moved closer. “Teach me something,” I said quietly, causing his eyebrows to raise.

“I think you should go.” His breathing was heavy, his hair messy and unruly.

“I want you to teach me something,” I repeated, refusing to back away and let this opportunity pass.

His nose crinkled, and he started pulling at the strapping around his hands as he backed away from the punching bag beside him. “Like what?”

I tugged my sweatshirt over my head, leaving me in a tank top and jeans. Not the best outfit for a workout, but it would have to do for now. “I want to know how to protect myself.”

His muscles tightened at my words, contracting and bulging and causing a shiver of excitement to rush through me. I wanted to touch him, run my hands over his body and get lost in the intensity that was simply just him.

I continued, needing to convince him to help me, to teach me how to be strong, so I didn’t have to live in the fear that once this was all over and he walked away, that I’d just go back to a normal life. A life where I couldn’t stand up for myself, and where I was looking around every corner waiting for someone like Tobia to hurt me.

I shuddered. Hearing his name in my head was enough to turn my stomach.

I didn’t want that for me.

Angelo made me feel like I wasn’t weak, but I knew that sometimes that was simply because when I was with him, I realized he’d never let anything touch me. I needed to have the feeling when I was alone. A feeling where I could fight for my life and actually have a chance of winning.

He tossed the sticky white wrapping tape in a bundle, off to the side. “Get in the ring,” he ordered, his eyes burning through me.

I looked over, seeing a small boxing ring in the corner of the room. Inhaling deeply, I walked toward it, climbing up and slipping through the springy ropes. Butterflies fluttered in my stomach as he sauntered over. His body moving like a tiger, so swift and powerful as it hunted down its prey. The only problem—that prey was me.

I swallowed past the nervous lump in my throat, shaking out my body and moving my arms, stretching like I would before I started dancing. His eyes watched me carefully, curiously, as I moved my body in ways I knew most normal people couldn’t. It took years of practice, putting your body through hell, and then while you’re there pushing it even further.

“Fuck me…” I heard Angelo grumble from behind me, as I bent at the waist and grabbed my ankle. “You’re gonna be the fucking death of me, you know that.”

I straightened, grinning, but as I looked into his eyes, I almost wondered whether it wasn’t a joke.

Clearing my throat, I held my arms out wide. “Okay, teach!”

I gasped as suddenly he stormed forward, fire in his eyes that burned so hot I stumbled back, fear tugging at my senses. My back hit a wall with a thump, my head banging against it, sending me into a daze. He didn’t stop there, though, his hand went to my throat, his fingers digging in. I could still breathe, but it was a struggle, and I quickly started to panic, squirming and clutching at his wrists, fighting pointlessly to try and pull his hand away.

Within a second, the hand was gone, and I dropped to my knees, fighting for a breath, feeling like my heart might explode any second. I looked up, seeing Angelo standing over me, his face in a serious mask, as though he didn’t give a shit that he’d almost made me pass out. I coughed, my eyes unfocused and blurry.

“You want to learn, then I can’t treat you like just another person. You want to learn, you need to fear me, or you won’t fight back,” he explained harshly. Obviously taking this much more seriously than just teaching me how to kick a guy in the nuts and run. “I’ve seen you dance. You’re strong. Much stronger than many other girls your age. You need to use that and turn it into your defense.”

My eyes widened. “You… you’ve seen me dance?”

“Get up,” he snapped, ignoring my question.

I pushed to my feet, sneering at him. “Do you have to be so damn demanding all the time?”

He smirked as he moved on his feet, circling me. As I stepped further into the center of the ring. I watched him with my eyes, my muscles tensed as I waited for him to strike. “Protecting yourself isn’t a game. These women, they learn it so they can convince themselves they’re safe. That if any man came at them, they’d be able to toss him over their shoulder with some stupid fucking karate move.” His laughter echoed in the wide space of the home-made gym. It was dark, ominous, and genuinely sent a scared shock down my spine.

“So you think all self-defense classes are bullshit?” I enquired, continuing to follow him, not willing to let him catch me off guard again.

“Not all. But don’t think that every bastard you meet in a back alley is going to also not know how to protect himself,” Angelo said with a shrug of his shoulders. “What if he’s a trained fighter? What if he knew the moves you were going to make before you made them?”

I hated that he had a point.

“You just going to spend this whole time walking around me in circles?” I taunted, readying myself for an attack, but he seemed to keep his composure while smiling at me. His perfectly straight white teeth making me angrier and annoyed.

I threw my hands in the air. “Will you hurry u—”

Two arms wrapped around me from behind, holding my arms captive just above my elbows. I struggled against him, wriggling my body, kicking my legs, trying to stomp on his foot—everything I could remember ever watching in videos or gym classes that I used to take. He was right, he was expecting every damn blow I threw at him, almost as if he’d studied the classes too.

“Fuck!” I screamed, becoming exhausted quickly, all while he didn’t even seem to be straining, his hot breath fanning against my ear.

Suddenly, I had a bright idea.

I threw my head back, thinking it was a brilliant move. I could connect with his face, and although it would be a shame to see something so pretty, ruined, I had a point to prove. But I found nothing, it didn’t connect, and all that greeted me was soft laughter.

“Goddamn it, Angelo,” I swore as he still wouldn’t let me go. “Okay, you’ve made your point.”

“Is this what Tobia did to you, Emerson?”

 

Benny grinned, his hand going to Sophie’s throat, squeezing it until she was choking for air. I reached out again, the blade cutting into my neck.

A hand grabbed my hip, holding me in position. “Wouldn’t do that if I was you, Emerson, don’t want you to lose your head now.”

The way he said my name was as if he knew me, and that thought alone made me want to vomit. I had to fight to keep the contents of my stomach where it needed to be.

 

Tears pooled in my eyes, and suddenly I was back there, watching my sister being raped, hearing her crying out in pain.

Angelo didn’t let me go. No. He held me tighter, trapped me, and made me feel like there was no escape.

“He hurt her, his friends, they hurt her. And you couldn’t do anything about it. You had to stand there, watching her be destroyed, knowing that her last moments on this earth would hold memories of something so ruthless, so demeaning…” His voice lit the fire inside me, and I screamed.

“I should have fought harder,” I cried out, grabbing hold of Angelo’s wrist and digging my fingers into his skin. “He made me watch while he told me it should have been me there that day, not Sophie! I cried on the ground at their feet instead of trying to fight back. I just froze.”

I felt his skin tear, my fingernails piercing through and wetness forming around them. His hand gripped tighter to my hip. I could tell he was in pain, but he was trying to hold it together.

“Fuck,” he growled, ripping his hand away. I spun, raising my forearm like a sword and forcing it against his throat, knocking his breath from his lungs. He stumbled back, and suddenly I was free.

I stood in shock, looking down at my nails where Angelo’s blood dripped from them. Gasping, I rushed forward, dropping to my knees beside him. His hands were at his throat, his face downcast.

“Oh God… I’m sorry, I hurt you.” I reached out to place my hand on his back, but before I could touch him, I found myself trapped, thrown to the mat with his body climbing over me.

“You faker,” I snapped as he pinned my body to the floor.

He smirked, only making me angrier. “That did actually hurt, Bella. So congratulations. But you should have run when you had the chance.”