Page 70 of Fatal Fantasy

Every inch of my body feels like it’s on fire, having been stretched in every direction, but I’m perched between two monstrous, murderous mafia boys, the very ones that I had orders to kill.

Instead, they vowed to love me until the end of time, cherish me like I’m their most prized possession, and in a twisted turn of fate, I promised them the same fucking things.

Dancing along the edge of oblivion is always eye-opening, an out of body experience that sets my mind straight, and this time is no different as I fully come to terms with our next mission.

Like the soldier I was trained to be, I’m ready to execute my orders, my sights firmly locked into the targets, but I won’t falter, not this time.

Everyone who had a hand in my imprisonment, abuse, and what Tyson calls rape, will burn alive, and I’ll be right there, watching as the flames lick their skin until it leaves behind nothing but charred, rotting flesh.

THIRTY-EIGHT

TYSON

There’s a million things to do before we re-enter the States, but right now, snuggling with the petite, dark-haired beauty snaked between my arms remains at the top of my priority list.

After our whirlwind of a day, she needs to sleep, and even though Massi is ripping through his boxes of grenades like a kid on Christmas, I’ve decided that I too, could use the rest.

Typically, I sleep a few hours a night, completely refreshed no matter when I crash or wake up, but since we rescued Carter, I can feel my batteries depleting, the energy being sucked out of my body at an alarming rate.

After all, I did survive three gunshots, defied a grim diagnosis, and crossed the country running on fumes to get her back, but I’ll be damned if my injuries are what causes us to make a mistake, or worse.

We all need to be at our strongest as we eliminate the ground we’ve already covered, but I have a feeling the battles we’ll face once we touch down in California again will require the utmost strength.

Carter’s father is not going down without a fight, and since we’re playing wedding crashers, the Groom will likely find himself in my crosshairs, a place that he does not want to be.

When she told us what he did to her, I promised that I’d stop calling it rape, stop making her feel like a victim, but when it comes to her, anyone who even looks at her sideways deserves a death sentence, and the pathetic excuse for a man who abused her will feel my wrath.

I’ve kept my anger bottled up since we left California, away from Massi and Carter, but what happened to her was traumatizing, disgusting, and most importantly, unacceptable.

Not a single person who assisted in her abuse will be granted mercy, and even though I’m not the brute of this trio, I’ll be spilling blood in Carter’s name before we embark on a new journey.

“These are totally going to fuck shit up!” Massi cheers, ripping through the final box of grenades, and I try to shush him, but Carter giggles beneath the blankets, her sweet laughter filling up the room within seconds.

“Can you stop being a deranged psychopath for two fucking seconds and get some sleep?” I taunt, knowing that he can’t help himself, and deep down, I’ve missed his brand of chaos.

The rehab facility was quiet, exactly what I needed to focus on my recovery, but not having my brother a few steps away, or right by my side, was brand new territory, something I never want to live through again.

He may drive me insane, but he’s been a constant since we were kids, and without him, life has a certain lack of excitement that only he can deliver.

“Not a chance. We have a wedding to destroy, and a Don to demolish. Besides, someone needs to stay on guard, and I’ll take the first shift,” he rambles, inspecting every grenade in the box from his place on the floor, the obnoxious sound of metal clanking together enough to keep me far away from the sleep I so desperately need.

“Are you sure this is the right move? What if we’re walking into a trap? I muse, speaking my thoughts aloud, but feeling the anxiety creep in as I release them from the chamber of my mind.

“That’s what these bad boys are for,” he laughs, closing the boxes and slipping an automatic weapon from one of the men we killed earlier across his chest, taking comfort in the armchair next to the front window.

Right now, he’s too wired to have a coherent conversation, or an exchanging of ideas, so I turn my focus back to Carter, lightly dragging my finger along the bridge of her nose, tracing the freckles that dance along her complexion as if they were a map of constellations in the night sky.

While I dearly missed Massi’s chaos when I was holed up in the rehab facility, I was even more desperate for Carter’s company, her presence being the key factor to calming my heart rate, racing thoughts, and settling my body into a place that resembles rest.

Her snoring used to drive me up the wall, but now, I block out every other sound, focused only on her breathing, and for once, I feel at peace, like giving up control of our escape plan sent a cascade of calm from my head to my toes.

With Massi taking the lead on keeping guard, I slip into a state of unconsciousness, and for the first time, there’s no screaming, desperate pleas for help, or terrifying screeches that would wake me from the deepest of slumbers.

Wherever I’ve landed in my mind, I’m content, and although I know my stay is only temporary, I welcome the silence with open arms.

The sound of pots and pans banging echo throughout the cabin, and I groan in response, desperate for the quiet to come back to me, but even as I stack the pillows over my head, a sweet laugh travels around the room, and I’m immediately brought back to life.

“Carter, you’ve never cooked a day in your life. Just go back to bed and I’ll make whatever you’re craving,” Massi bargains with her, but judging by the stomping sound of her feet, she’s not budging.