CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
LUCIANO
“Are you okay, Luciano? I’ve never seen you fight like that before…” Emptying the rest of a bottle of alcohol onto my fists, I hissed at the sting as Sylvi’s words snaked into my ears from behind me. The smell of sweat and blood curled my nose hairs; a block of uncovered, gray concrete filled my vision. Tossing the bottle of the floor, my fingers flexed and tensed with the desire to squeeze something.
“I’m fine.” My grunt reverberated through the small room I had been assigned, echoing off the walls. Only a plain, hard couch and a shower decorated the space. There wasn’t even a rug on the concrete floor.
The room was nothing more than a fucking concrete box- a cell.
“No, you’re not. What happened today?” Clenching into fists, my hands shook from a mix of pain and adrenaline. Images whirled through my mind of the shit that had happened today. My muscles gorged on blood rich with oxygen and anger, and I took a shallow, rasping breath.
“She was afraid of me.” That collection of words felt alien as they rolled off my tongue. Disgust rose up inside me, and my lips curled into a snarl. “That fucking cunt made her afraid of me.”
“What’s that supposed to mean? Lei è sempre spaventata.” Whirling around, I lunged at the only person stupid enough to come near me. My hands finally found something to crush, and Sylvi’s neck was slender enough for my fingertips to touch.
“Not like that!” Roaring in his face, I squeezed until his harsh breaths rang in my ears. My brother was powerless against me; his wide and fearful eyes told me he never expected me to turn on him, but in that moment I didn’t care. “She was never afraid of me like that!”
Restricting around Sylvi’s neck, my palms itched to take another life as Aya’s image bubbled up from my brain. He couldn’t breathe at all now, his mouth opening and closing as his throat flexed wildly. Watching his face go from bright, lobster red to pale purple, my eyes narrowed into slits.
Jerking Sylvi away, I released my grip to send him against the wall as he choked and gasped for air. Knowing I could kill him sent a rush through me that egged my already tense muscles to grab him again.
“What the fuck is wrong with you, Luciano?” The anger that laced Sylvi’s voice was nothing compared to the raging maelstrom that swirled in my chest. Glaring he straightened to rub his frail neck as I stalked the room in a hard pace. “I told you keeping her was a bad idea. Do you want m-”
“What are you going to do, Sylvi? Huh? What? You gunna shoot me? You haven’t shot anyone but your stupid fucking whores in years. You can’t even pull out your gun before I snap your fucking neck. Don’t you dare fucking threaten me!” My pacing quickened in the need to move, to do something, anything, to avoid killing Sylvi. In a tiny, weak part of my brain, I knew it was a bad idea, but knowing didn’t silence me. “You’re a piece of shit, and if you don’t shut the fuck up, you’re a dead piece of shit.”
A snort flew from my chest when Sylvi stayed quiet, but his glare didn’t die down. Tossing my head, I ground my teeth together as our stalemate came to an end. My brother adjusted his collar, tugging on his suit jacket, and his breathing finally evened out.
“You need to set yourself straight, Luciano. Is that why you didn’t bring that girl? Because she was afraid of you?” Stiffening, I clenched my hands into tight fists and ignored the sting of my knuckles. “You think that she’s with you because she wants to be? You keep her locked in a room, Luciano! Even my whores get better treatment than you give her. Why shouldn’t she be afraid of you?”
My throat tightened at the accusation, and I hissed as Sylvi straightened. The fire in his eyes flared- a window into his soul that was steadily gaining courage. Taking a threatening step forward, he shook his head hard with a growl.
“You can’t talk shit about what I do when you’re holding a girl hostage, constantly interrogating her because you think the Russians want her for some reason. At least my whores get to laugh, even if their comfort is a set up.” Thick, heavy breaths flowed in and out of my lungs, forcing my chest to heave. Sylvi’s gaze bit at mine with sharp, invisible fangs, and his words wrapped around me to squeeze tightly. Clenching and releasing my fists, my fingers became sticky with blood that flowed from my knuckles.
But he’s right… I was going to abandon Aya for being afraid when she had every reason to be. Goosebumps washed my chest, and cold dread raised the hairs that coated my arms. Tearing my gaze off Sylvi, I stared at the shower stall through narrowed eyes. There was nothing but a drain and a shower head to mark the spot, but my memory filled in the missing wall.
Aya had only touched me after I had nearly broken her neck. Fuck- the only time she even said my name was after she’d nearly frozen to death and woken up on top of me. Growling at the memory, I started to pace again even as I sensed Sylvi take steps of his own.
“You need to consider letting her go, mio fratello. Ha bisogno di qualcuno che non la farà male.” Sylvi’s perfect, crisp Italian rang in my ears like the death tolls of church bells. Aya needed someone that wouldn’t hurt her.
Hurt her was all I did. The countless times she’d jumped when I entered her room filled my head. Every whimper beat against my ear drums; each shiver that passed from her to me when I held her strafed my muscles.
For the first time in my life guilt began to eat away at my gut, and my face twisted in disgust. Not for Aya for making me feel this way, but at myself. She wasn’t delusional. I am…
The walls started to close in on me, and my legs took wide strides toward the door with no direction from my brain. Splinters dug into my palms from the force I used to open the door. A resounding bang echoed down the hall, but it was lost in the hard, painful bet of my heart.
Blinking hard, I found myself in front of my car with no memory of how I’d gotten there. Digging my keys out of my basketball shorts pocket, I ripped open the door as the haze finally started to clear.
If Aya was afraid of me, it was my own fault, a voice in my head hissed with disdain. Let her go, whispered another as I jostled into the driver’s seat- she deserves that much.
Time moved too fast for me to follow, and I sped home well over 80 miles an hour. Blowing past red lights and narrowly avoiding other cars, my tire tracks painted the asphalt and angry beeping rose above the hoods of cars.
“Aya!” Bursting into Sylvi’s dark, quiet abode, my stomps were heavy but the only sound I could hear. There wasn’t a single light on, but I moved with ease of practice towards the stairs as panic began to well inside me.
“Aya!” My roar reverberated through the house and sweat beaded down my neck and back. An uncomfortable heat clawed at me as I took the stairs two at a time. Aya should’ve heard me and would’ve appeared.
But her room was stark and sweltering when I beat down the door. Her empty bed was made, and for a moment I couldn’t do anything but stare at it.