Ruining Me: The Insidious Seven MC, Book Two, page 10
“Tell me,” my brother's voice overshadows the one in my head. “Does your best friend realize you want to fuck his little sister?”
I clench my jaw and say nothing, refusing to fall for his instigating tactics. But when he smiles, I know I'm about to lose this game.
“Do you think he’ll be okay with you fucking her? You must not think very highly of your brother if you're so willing to defile his little sister,” he taunts. It takes everything in me to remain silent as the blood boils in my veins.
Romeo takes another long drag. “I can see how someone like her would overshadow all those doubts about what you want to do to her,” he shrugs. “She’s obviously got a body built for a hard fuck. Even I have to admit she would look oh so tasty on her knees, drooling and begging for a fat cock,” he laughs, smoke still coming from his mouth as he smiles darkly at me. “Hell, maybe I’ll take her for a spin if you don't have the balls to.”
At that moment, Romeo stops being my brother, stops being the one person I know better than myself. He no longer resembles someone I once would have died for and is now the person I hate most in this world. Everything we ever were vanishes as I only see the man who ruined my life, even if he looks nothing like Lorenzo Morelli.
I don’t even try to hold myself back as I charge the man I once considered my equal. And as if he expected this fight, instigated this altercation on purpose, he blows out his last cloud of smoke and throws his cigarette to the ground. The bright red cherry flares and scatters to the ground below as I rear back and send my clenched fist right into my brother's jaw.
The sickening crunch that follows the strike blocks out the pain radiating throughout my hand. I don’t stop as he brings his arms up to shield himself. I throw another punch, landing it in his gut. He grunts and doubles over, trying to regain his breath as the air is stolen from him.
I grab the back of his shirt and throw him toward his car. He stumbles and slams into the hood, trying to remain on his feet as I rush him again. Roaring in fury, I tackle him, and we both fall onto the hood of his overpriced car. It pops and caves in under our weight as I push him back. He quickly rams his palm into my chin, pushing me away from him. Pain flares before I smoothly slip away from him long enough to send my fist into his nose.
This time, he groans and curses as blood gushes from his nostrils. Bloodlust kicks in, and I easily slip into kill mode. I land blow after blow against his ribs, feeling the skin on my knuckles split and bleed under the force. His ribs crack and groan under my fists, but he still fights back as much as the position allows him. Lashing out, he catches my jaw just enough to make spots dance behind my eyes. I growl as I taste the metallic tinge of blood in my mouth.
I try to punch him again, but this time he catches my right hand, and then my left when I try again. He bares his bloody teeth up at me in a wicked grin. I pull my arms wide and put all my weight on him. His grip is iron-clad as he refuses to let go of me. Blind rage covers me as I’ve never felt before, fully engulfing me within its fiery red depths and consuming me whole.
His grip on my wrists is stronger than any vise, and I have no hope of breaking it with simple brute force. So, I lean back as far as I can and bring my forehead down against his nose in one quick movement. His cartilage pops and snaps as he curses and releases my wrists. Blood bubbles from his nose and mouth, exciting that savage monster writhing under my skin. It chants the new mantra that sings through my blood.
Kill. Kill. Kill.
As he sputters beneath me, I press my open hand against his throat as hard as I can and reach behind me, palming my 9mm for the second time this evening. In a flash, I draw the gun and press the barrel against his temple. My trigger finger twitches with the need to squeeze. I bare my teeth at my brother, pushing the gun against him so hard that I know it will leave a bruise.
Even as I’ve let the blind rage consume me, I know this was all a ploy to get me to talk to him. Even if I don’t truly understand what he wants, I know it’s not Sofee.
My hand is shaking with the effort of holding the gun against him. I should pull the fucking trigger. I should bury him right alongside my past and never look back. But even though all I want to do is erase him from existence, I just can't.
My whole body is wracked with violent tremors as I push my face to his. Pressing our foreheads together, I scream in rage. Never moving my face away from his, I pull the gun back and slam it down next to his head, further denting the once-polished hood.
I stand abruptly, gun in hand, knuckles dripping blood, chest heaving, and corners of my vision watery. “What the fuck do you want from me?” I scream, my voice a shattered, ragged mess.
He sputters and coughs as he slides down the hood. His clean black shoes scuff against the pavement below as he lands on his ass in a heap. His arm cradles his middle as a breath wheezes out of his lungs. His eyes tighten as he clutches his likely broken ribs and spits a mouthful of blood onto the ground.
I loom over him as he finally meets my hard gaze. “Is it so hard to believe that I want my brother back?” he groans, breathing heavily.
“You didn't seem to give a shit that I was your brother when Father killed Alana in front of me like she was a fucking dog,” I protest, waving my gun in his face.
If my firearm being so close to ending his life bothers him, he doesn't show it. “As if I ever had a choice!” His shouted objection is broken in the way only anguish causes. I say nothing, silently willing him to continue.
He grunts as he tries to move. Slowly, he gets to his knees and then to his feet. He rolls himself up until he finally stands tall, or as tall as his fucked up ribs allow him to stand. He winces as he takes a step toward me.
“You think I enjoyed watching what happened that day?” he hisses through clenched teeth as he scowls at me. “I was given a fucking choice. He told me if I didn't hold you back, he would kill you both. Said he only needed one son to carry on the family name.”
His answer is nothing more than what I expected. “You should have let me go,” I rasp, my voice long having gone gravelly from my wails.
He laughs, wincing at the motion. “Why? So I could have buried two bodies that night?”
“Yes!” I yell, my voice breaking. “That’s exactly what you should have done. It was never supposed to be her. She should have never gotten involved. You should have let me take care of Father, and none of this would have happened.” My chest heaves as I stare at my twin. “But instead, you condemned an innocent woman to her death.”
Rome steps closer to me, less than an arm's length away. His jaw hardens and his eyes flare with a darkness I haven’t seen in years.
“No, brother, I didn’t condemn anyone. You did that the moment you brought her into our lives. You knew what would happen if Father caught you, and you did it anyway. You were so hell-bent on living your own life that you never even stopped to think about the repercussions of your actions. You killed Alana, not Papà, not me. You.”
The truth knocks the breath from my lungs. I stagger back as though he’s struck me until my legs graze the side of my bike. My chest heaves, trying to regain what was stolen from it as I lean back. I let go of my gun, not caring where it lands, as I grip the leather seat beneath me.
Rome releases his ribs and steps closer again, moving slowly as if gauging my reaction. I’m not going to hit him again. My volatile rage sizzled out the moment he relayed the truth I’ve always known.
I’ve spent most of my life running from the past, from the Morellis, when I knew damn well there was no escaping my reality. Alana's death was and always will be my fault. I may not have held the blade, but I slit her throat all the same.
“I thought I was doing the one thing I needed to in order to save you. To save us,” he mumbles as he comes closer until he’s leaning against my bike again. I feel his gaze against the side of my head but I refuse to look at him. “If I would’ve known,” he pauses and swallows thickly. “I may have only dug one grave that night, but I still walked away without my brother. You left me. Left me to survive all of it on my own. You were still dead to me even if I never put you in the ground.”
His admission compels my gaze to meet his. Despite the darkness, his eyes still shimmer with unhashed emotion. He huffs a humorless laugh and gazes up at the sky.
“I’ve waited so fucking long for that phone call. You may not believe it, but I’ve always hoped I’d hear from you again. And even if you're pissed at me and want to shoot me, it’s so good to finally see you again, Fratellino.” he admits before shaking his head and pushing away from my bike. He shuffles stiffly toward his dented car and opens the driver's door. But before he ambles in, he turns to me again.
“I may have my own reasons for wanting the Pelosis gone, but they are just a shadow of the real reason why I want to help you. Papà is gone, Dec. And I know I can never make up for his sins, nor do I want to, but I can do right by you. Let me prove to you that I still need my brother by my side. Let me help you make sure Sofee doesn’t suffer the same fate as your Alana,” he says before sliding into the car.
He cranks the vehicle before lowering his window and rolling forward. The muscles in his jaw feather as I study his side profile. Almost as if he refuses to look at me as he speaks, he keeps his eyes fixed ahead with a tight grip on the steering wheel.
“I came here tonight to let you know we may have found a lead that could point us to Matteo.” My attention peaks at his words, causing my back to go rigid. “We think we’ve found the guy who hosted Antonio while he was in town. He may have some info on his brother's whereabouts.” He finally glances up at me before continuing. “Text me when you’re ready to talk.”
With that, he rolls up the window and drives out of the parking lot, not waiting for my reply, as if he knew I wouldn’t be giving one. His tail lights are the last thing I see as I dissociate from the world around me.
Can I really trust him? Do I truly believe everything he shared with me tonight? Without second-guessing it, I know that he’s telling the truth about the night Alana died. I knew even then that Father would have killed me right alongside her, and the only reason he didn’t is because Romeo wouldn’t let me go. But can I trust him to help me save Sofee?
A faint feminine murmur comes over the small speaker behind me, catching my attention. I push away from my bike and move my vest, glancing down at the phone.
She isn’t speaking to anyone other than herself. She does that a lot and doesn’t even realize it. Her words are nothing more than incoherent little mumbles, but they bring a small grin to my lips. And just like that, I have my answer. It’s at that moment I realize I’ll do anything to protect this woman, even if that means making a deal with the devil himself.
EIGHT
SOFEE
“Please, please, please,” I pray to the car gods and try to crank my car again. The interior lights don't even flicker as I turn the key. Clicking noises sound rapidly from somewhere within my shitty Honda Civic. I release the keys and lean back, frowning at the center of the steering wheel.
“Motherfucker,” I mumble and let my head fall back onto the headrest. Closing my eyes, I cover my face with my hands. I’ve been trying for the last ten minutes to start this pile of shit, and nothing is working. Between the irreparably broken A/C and now this, I'm about to cut my losses and roll this bitch into the river.
Anger thrums through my body as heavily as my exhaustion. All I want is to go home, take a scorching hot shower, and collapse onto my damn bed. But after a long twelve-hour shift, do you think fate would let that happen? Hell no. Lady Fate seems to have a sense of humor that I’ll never comprehend.
My feet are killing me, my head is on the verge of pounding, and I could cry I’m so tired. It’s moments like this I really miss having my own place. In my old house, I had one of those huge clawfoot tubs I could soak in after a long shift. All the clubhouse has is showers. Yet another reason why I should start looking for a new place.
I open my eyes and sit up straight. Scowling at the interior of my car, I furiously pull at the hair tie holding my hair in place. As soon as the elastic is set free, I release a deep sigh and massage my achy scalp. Immediately, my impending headache is relieved as my hair finally relaxes.
Tonight was one of the longest shifts I think I’ve ever worked. Even though it was just your average twelve-hour shift, it felt like so much longer than that, especially after Joel was admitted. With only one hour left of my shift, his presence made one seem like six.
After I’d woken up Dr. Haley, I tried to keep myself occupied with anything other than checking on him. Restocking, cleaning, running labs, you name it, I willingly did it just to avoid facing him. I could only imagine what Miles would’ve said if he’d been working tonight.
“You’re really going to hide from that delicious hunk of man meat? Girl, if you don’t jump on that, I'm going to go see how straight he really is.”
I nearly giggle at my impression of my best friend. I spend so much time with Miles that it’s impossible not to know exactly what will come out of his mouth.
When I clocked out, Joel was still occupying bed seven, waiting for his X-ray results to come back. I’ve been an emergency nurse long enough to know that he obviously had a dislocated shoulder, but we have protocols to follow, which was just as well. Because if the doctor decided it was dislocated on the spot, he would have asked me to assist in resetting the arm. And I knew that if I put my hands anywhere on him, inappropriate thoughts would cloud my better judgment. It's best if I never see him again as I become nothing more than a bumbling fool around him.
I huff a loud breath and grab my keys dangling from the ignition again. “Alright, listen here. It’s okay if you want to go to the junkyard and die tomorrow, I’ll drive you there myself. But I need you to hang in there a little longer for me. I just need to get home. Okay?” I speak to the car as if it can actually hear me.
I press my foot on the brake and mumble a little prayer as I twist the key again. The infernal clicking noise sounds once more. Not a single sputter of the engine is heard, and my mood completely flattens.
“You always were a selfish bitch,” I growl before slapping my hands against the steering wheel. I mumble a long string of profanities as I pull the lever to open the hood of the car. It pops open with a click, and I push open my door.
Rounding the car, I search for the latch just under the lip of the hood, pry it open, and push it up. After I move the rod in place to hold it open, I lean heavily on the front of the grill. I furrow my brows while looking at the car's innards, trying to see if I notice anything amiss. Then I realize I know absolutely nothing about cars or how the engine is supposed to look, so I give up.
I let some of my frustration out as I remove the rod and slam the hood back into place as hard as I can. I feel like screaming at the hunk of junk and kicking it until something breaks, but I refrain.
What now?
I could call Li and ask him to come get me. But you’re already a burden to your brother, do you really wanna push that limit some more? “Pass,” I mumble to myself. I could go back into the hospital and see if one of the other nurses can give me a ride. Yeah, but then you run the risk of running into tall, dark, and mysterious again. “Absolutely not.”
Sighing to myself, I walk back to my door and reach in through the open window, grabbing my bag. Opening it, I dig around for my cell. Once I find it, I open the ride-share app and enter my location. I nearly weep tears of joy as I spot an available ride nearby, just on the other side of the hospital near the main entrance. If I hurry, I can get there before it takes off.
I pull my backpack up and over my shoulders, the heavy weight pulling me down, forcing me to shift my weight before I fall on my ass. I briefly wonder if I should take the keys from the ignition and close the windows, but I quickly dismiss the notion. Since my house burned down, I have no other useful keys on that key ring. So, if someone tries to steal my car, well, good luck getting it started. Besides, the tow company will need the keys when they come to pick it up. I make a mental note to search for the nearest mechanic shop on the ride home.
Turning my back on the broken-down car, I start walking at a brisk pace. I could go back into the hospital and cut through to the main entrance, but for once, the midsummer heat is not melting me as I stand here.
It’s just a little after six in the morning, and nature is starting to come to life all around me. The sun is peeking out from the horizon, making the world seem hazy and dreamlike. It’s late enough in the morning that some people are starting their days but still early enough to hear the cicadas buzzing in nearby trees. It’s almost peaceful enough to make me think this walk was a good idea. That is until I realize how far of a walk it’s going to be.
I’m barely past the parking lot and onto the sidewalk that runs along the main road when my feet start screaming at me. Wincing with almost every step, I'm really starting to regret not taking that break now.
At the time, it seemed like the smart thing to do. Giving all my other nurses and aides a break while the doctor was away. But now, I’m feeling the repercussions.
My head may have stopped pounding since I took my thick pile of hair down. But having to walk all this way with my heavy backpack strapped to my back is really highlighting my achy feet and tired soul.
Buck up, butter cup, you’re almost there. My inner voice becomes my cheerleader, and I want to call her a fucking idiot. I should have asked Liam to come get me. I’m already a burden, how much worse could it get at this point?
I’m nearly halfway to the front of the building when a deep rumble rolls up next to me on the street. At first, I think it might be someone on their morning commute, so I keep my head down and continue walking. But then the rumbling only gets louder until I’m all but forced to look over, curiosity finally getting the better of me.
I nearly have to catch my drool as I see the motorist slowly gliding along beside me. He’s slowed to a crawl, his decreased speed quieting the steady growl coming from the idling engine that causes my pulse to jump in my throat. The custom, deep green, powerful machine reminds me of sex on wheels, but not as much as the rider.
