Page 10 of Reaper

“Dick!”

The sound of a motorcycle rumbles outside, and I get up and look through the bars, and watch him as he drives away. Once he disappears from my view, the house is eerily quiet. Since I was a little girl, I couldn’t stand the sound of silence. I always needed the tv or music on for background noise. This creeps me out, and every sound of the wind blowing outside the window causes me to jump. Now, I can’t decide if I’m worse off alone in this house, or with a psychopath in front of me. I glance at the jar on the dresser. A chill runs down my spine at the mere thought of him cutting my eyes out. Chances are good that’s going to be the end result. If I’ve learned anything about Nico Bonetti, it’s that he gets what he wants, and fuck everybody else.

CHAPTER EIGHT

REAPER

May you never forget how much you disgust me.

I shake my head as I speed down the road to my club. Fuck her.

I should’ve killed her.

The last thing I need is yet another person reminding me how abnormal I am. Do they really think I don’t fucking know that? I know. I’m not the fucking idiot they all think I am.

‘What do you mean, you get a tingling feeling in your neck?’

‘We kill when we need to, not because we have a fucking bizarre urge.’

‘How does walking the earth, killing people for no reason, benefit the family?’

My dad was the first to point out how different I am, and he’s the one person that knew the real reason why. Where the rage stems from. Understanding why didn’t matter to him, only that I was conducting myself in a way that did not benefit the Bonetti line. If it didn’t make him money, or give him power, he didn’t give a fuck. I’m close with my brothers, but they don’t get me either. Nobody does.

And now, Bella is just like them. Maybe worse, because nobody in my family hates me, but she does. I’m not a fucking rapist.

There’s a good chance I hate Arabella, if for no other reason than she makes me feel something. What, I don’t know, but I don’t like to fucking feel. It makes me so angry I can’t fucking see straight.

Pulling up to the club, I spot a car in my parking spot. I’ll deal with that in a moment. I dial my brother Kage, because I need to see him.

“Where are you?” I ask as soon as he answers.

“In your club, getting my dick sucked.”

After hanging up, I park beside the spot stealer. I know the car well.Alonzo Abruzzo.Son of Vincenzo Abruzzo, a rival family, which makes me wonder why he’s in my fucking club. Rival families are allowed here if they choose to be, sans weapons, of course. Only Bonettis can enter my club with any. I climb off my bike as I spot him walking to his car, and approach him.

“Is the fuckingno parkingsign invisible to you, asshole?”

He turns to me with a smug expression.

“I park where I want.”

Narrowing my gaze at him, I say, “You used to park wherever you wanted. Back when you were alive.”

Shrugging like it means nothing, he quips, “We all know you’re a psychopath, Reaper, but even you aren’t going to kill someone over a parking spot.”

On any other day, he might be right, but today is not any other day, and he picked the wrong time to fuck around and find out. The familiar tingle travels down the base of my neck, and he recognizes the glint in my eye that people talk about. He knows when the sun rises, he won’t be around to see it.

“Reaper. Come on, man. It’s a fucking parking spot.”

I step closer to him, and he reaches behind him, clearly going for his gun. I don’t fucking think so. For a moment, I wonder if he was in my establishment with a firearm. I’ll deal with my security shortly. After this asshole is dead.

Grabbing his reaching arm, I pull it up behind his back until he lands face down on the hood of his car, likely causing a dent. I smile sadistically at him as I flip him to his back, and wrap my hands around his throat and squeeze, while staring into his wide, panic-stricken eyes. He attempts to push me off him as he struggles to breathe. They always do. The will to live is one that intrigues me. Even people with shitty fucking lives will do anything to prolong their existence. A person will have nothing to live for, and still struggle to survive. It’s fascinating.

And there it is. His eyes turn from a vibrant green to a glassy appearance. The one I enjoy so much. I don’t know why. Bones says it’s the power, but I’m not so sure. For me, I like the look in the eyes as they die. And it’s the only thing that makes the tingling subside.

Letting go of him, I chuckle to myself.

Asshole.

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