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RAYDEN (18YRS)
I opened an eye and let it roam. Nothing shifted into view. It was only when I tried to open the other, did I realize I was lying on my stomach and half my face was flattened against whatever I was lying on. Why the fuck did it feel like I was dead. Going by the way my body felt, I might’ve been. Pushing up into a sitting position, my stomach heaved. Fuck, did I swallow a damn tidal wave. I shook my head to focus and winced. It pounded like someone took a jackhammer to it. Clutching it with both hands, I tried opening my eyes. For a second, only blurred images spun in front of me until it cleared.
Why was I sleeping on the couch and not the bed? I tried swallowing but my mouth was so dry, it felt as if someone had stuffed it with sandpaper. “Fuck,” I groaned, my stomach heaving once more. Shooting up from the seat, I stumbled into bathroom and hurled into the toilet. The stench of vomit hitting the water made me cringed. When I finally could stand, I moved over to the sink, rinsed my mouth, and washed my face. Shoving wet hands through my hair until my head felt cooler, I closed the taps, pushed aside the wet hair flopping over my eyes and stared at my reflection. Then it all came rushing back to me.
With the Rossi’s away, and Dario on guard, I was going crazy doing fuck all. Zena had suggested a game of trip poker. The aim was to get the other to trip out on alcohol chosen by the winner. I’d won only one hand and each round she won, Zena had given me the shittiest stuff to drink. Too drunk to make it to the bed, I’d probably passed out on the couch.
Grinning, I wiped my face and let myself out of the bedroom. I needed an energy drink to calm my fucked-up stomach. I was almost at the dining room when a sound stopped me. Scanning the hallways and rooms—all visible given the glass walls, my gaze fell to one of the walls separating the kitchen from the dining room. I froze.
Blood drained from my face, a knot formed in the pit of my stomach and for one stupid second, I refused to believe my eyes. My hands reached out to grasp the wall. I blinked. But it didn’t blank out what I was seeing.
Zena with her back to me. Lorenzo’s palms flat against the glass on either side of her head. Her legs wrapped around his waist, anchoring him to her as he fucked her with enough force to rattle the glass. The sounds of flesh slapping against flesh etched into my memory. Their grunts and moans growing louder, filling every pore in my heated skin.
I trusted her. I trusted him. She lied to me.
That hurt. Like a knife to my gut, the slice deeper with each shuddering breath, the pain harsher than if he would’ve put a bullet in my skull. I rubbed my chest as the shooting ache threaded its way past my ribcage. My vision blurred. I touched my cheeks and my fingers came away wet. My lungs battled for air. Clenching my fists to keep from hitting the wall, I ground my teeth so I wouldn’t shout out. I stared at them through the tears, unblinking, watching the two people I thought meant something in my life, take something from me.
My heart.
Then Lorenzo lifted his head up, his gaze clashing with mine. I stopped breathing, engaging his stare, pushing every ounce of hatred into it and hoping he’d at least stop. Only, there was something off about the way he looked at me. I expected regret, guilt. Nothing. It was like he was looking right through me, like he was somewhere else. There was no pleasure on his face, just pure primal need. Did he even notice me? I cringed with the knowledge he didn’t care,ifhe did.
Drawing in another quivering breath, I turned away and looked up. Remo stood to one side. At first, I thought he was watching them, and I almost scoffed in his face. Then he arched a brow. He was watching me. His expression lacked the usual cynical twist and I thought it’d been replaced with remorse. Then I remembered. He didn’t have a heart. Not like Lorenzo had one either. These men were bastards. While my young, infatuated mind had wanted to be like Lorenzo, I now realized I couldn’t. They took without asking. They killed without remorse. They broke hearts without thought.
Lorenzo Rossi broke my heart. I let the words play on a loop in my pounding head. The knowledge spiked the blood in my veins, it turned hot with anger because he took Zena and with annoyance, because I let him.
Remo turned and walked away. I did the same.
Inside my room, I leaned against the closed door for a moment before shutting my eyes, clutching the sides of my head and sliding to the floor. Cringing against the weakness, the pain nipped at my heart and I let it out through the tears. I didn’t know how else to. The hurt taunted the nails digging into my palms until my clenched teeth usurped its brunt stinging my tightened jaw. It hurt like fucking hell, yet I couldn’t control my pulsing rage. It would bend me to its will, repercussions be damned.
Chapter 19
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LORENZO (31YRS)
