Page 66 of Tormented Diamonds
She lifts her chin, displaying that proud confidence that sent me spiraling those first few weeks in Providence. “I can handle it.”
“I don’t think so.”
“Are you saying that because you believe it, or because you’re scared that I can?”
My fingers sink deep into her skin, and I pull her so close we’re sharing the same breath. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”
“Nobody’s ever understood you, have they, Gianni?” she says, sweeping her tongue across the bottom of her teeth in a way that has my dick paying immediate attention. “The lonely boy who became a tortured man. You’ve built walls all your life because you believed your own lies. You may think waving that gun around and firing bullets makes you a badass, but you’re kidding yourself.”
“Is that right?”
“Yeah, that’s right. Because letting anyone see the real you—the one hiding behind all those flames—would take courage you aren’t sure you have.”
I should’ve known she’d try pulling some reverse psychology bullshit. It’s been a staple in her repertoire since day one. “Watch it, Becca.”
“What if they hate what they see?” she presses, ignoring the warning. “Then there’d be no way to heal that scar, would there?”
Fuck it.I tried.
Driving my other hand through her hair, I wind the matted strands around my fingers and pull, forcing her head back and her eyes on me. “You want to watch, fine. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
Beccaflinches as the steel door slams closed behind her. “What is this place?”
“Officially? An old meatpacking warehouse,” I tell her, the ghosts that live inside these walls already coming out to play. “Unofficially? Henry Saddler’s final resting place.”
Her sneakers squeak across the concrete as she stumbles. I take her arm, keeping her balanced as she sucks in air. “His body is here?”
I shrug. “More or less, mostly less.”
“Holyshit.”
“We call it the Chop House for a reason.” I gesture at her feet where scattered drops of blood form a trail that leads into the heart of my concrete fortress.
She looks up, her pupils dilating to adjust to the dim light. “Isn’t that dangerous? I mean, isn’t there stuff that can detect blood residue even after?—?”
“Luminol,” I say, cutting her off, because this wide-eyed, nervous shit is getting my dick too hard. “Makes even the best clean-up job glow like a firefly’s asshole. You’re very astute, beloved. Normally, we line the floor with tarps, but we won’t be needing them tonight.”
“Why?”
I smile, anticipation boiling in my veins. “It’s a surprise.”
We walk a little further until the sound of a low groan and the faint rattle of chains stops Becca cold. “Gianni…”
“You don’t have to do this,” I say, dropping my lips to her temple. “You can turn around and walk back to the car and nothing will change between us. I promised you revenge, and I’ll deliver. This isn’t your fight.”
“Yes, it is,” she insists. “It’smyfather he killed … my family he destroyed. I want him to look a Reese in the eye when he meets the same fate.”
The husband in me wants to protect her from the inescapable darkness she’s about to step into. But the born sinner in me, that soulless bastard salivates at the thought of his demons kneeling before their callous queen.
“Then that’s what you’ll have.” Taking her hand, I entwine our fingers and lead her down the wide corridor, pausing as it opens into the belly of the beast … and the main event.
Becca gasps, her hand flying to her mouth in a delayed attempt at muffling it. I don’t react, letting her take a few unsteady steps and absorb the moment in all its fucked-up glory.
The two sets of handcuffs clamped around each of Liam Callahan’s wrists attach to grade 120 alloy chains that hook to two overhead steel bars. Excellent for heavy-duty lifting of cargo or an Irish delinquent who fucked with the wrong Italian.
I’m not complaining. It gives me a wider canvas on which to work, and by the looks of him, Anton and his trusted few started without me.
He looks like a crucified moth. His oily-haired head hangs like it’s about to snap off his shoulders, so I can’t see if they’ve marked that up, but the artwork carved into his bare chest is quite impressive. It’s only one word, but it draws my lips back in a sadistic smile.
