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Wickedly Twisted 50
ErosEvery muscle in my body groans with weariness.Days spent patrolling. Nights spent hunting. Every moment of every waking hour is accounted for. I've thrown myself into the war with the Italians with every ounce of my being, killing as many of their men as I can, ruthlessly taking the fight to their doorstep.I'm breaking myself to make them suffer.And I'm breaking the city too.The heat's on. The cops are out in force, threatening to bring us all down if we can't find a way to stop the violence.I still don't care."You've been single-minded lately, Eros." Mother walks beside me, her hands clasped behind her back. She wears a long black dress, flowing and loose, her hair pulled up and tucked under a broad-brimmed hat. We stroll through the flower garden on the far side of the house, away from where Cara visits with Helen and her friend, Ophelia."Our enemies are closing in, Mother." I glance up at the sky. "I have to admit, I worried about this exact situation. I stressed about
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ErosThat night, I find Cara alone in our room. I pause in the doorway, studying her. She's in a pair of cotton shorts and a tank top, her hair in a messy bun, a glass of wine held between both hands. She's watching TV and texting with someone—probably Ophelia.I smile to myself. I like that she made a friend, and a decent Greek girl from a friendly family. I hate that Cara's been stuck in here, but I'll admit that life has been easier ever since she gave up fighting me about the diner.Only things have been strained. We don't fight, but we don't talk, either. I crave the taste of her lips against mine, my fingers dimpling her soft skin, her moans hot in my ear. I want her legs wrapped around me and her skin flushing as she comes, hot and sweaty.Most of all, I want her. Purely her."Asteraki mu."She starts and looks over at me. "When did you get there?""A few minutes ago.""Are you creepily watching me?""Not creepily, but yes.""Seems creepy to me." She stretches and finishes her
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Eros"My father was murdered ten years ago." I pace over to the windows, my back turned to her. "When he was killed, it felt like a hole had been ripped into my body, a wound that would never heal. I still feel that wound, even now. It drains me to this day, Cara. I wake up some mornings, thinking I'll speak to my father, go for a walk with him, go fishing in the lake, go out on the boats. But he's gone."I take a deep breath and slowly let it out. "I thought he was killed by a rival gang. Back then, it was mostly the Irish. I didn't learn the truth until one day, a week before I became lord of this family, I overheard my mother and Aunt Anissa crying with each other. It shocked me, the pain in my mother's voice, and the pain in my aunt's tone, the way they consoled each other. But what really broke me was when my mother said, I can't forgive him, Anissa. I won't ever forgive your husband for what he did to my Michael."Cara's breathing quickens. "Your uncle killed your father?"I nod
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Cara"It's not me he wants, but a wife." I lean against the wall behind the diner, the wall where Hector came and found me over a week ago now.Phel smiles sadly. "Are you sure about that? He could've gotten a wife a long time ago if he really wanted. I mean, he's good looking, has lots of money, and he's a freaking Khazan. I bet there's a line around the block with women that would die to get hitched to all that.""Then he should've chosen one of them." I stare at the engagement ring. It looks so small and lost now that I'm not wearing the matched wedding band. I feel like I'm losing the thread of why we got involved together in the first place. "It wasn't about me, it was just, let's have babies, let's show my family I'm serious, and now I'm afraid we rushed into it."Phel's quiet for a moment. "Did you tell him all that?""I tried to, but he only glared and grunted at me.""That's basically him trying to communicate, but he's stuck in the Stone Age."I try not to laugh, but it's ha
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CaraI stand in front of the big mirror at the vanity in my bathroom.Beautiful granite countertops. Gold framing around everything. Luxurious towels, fresh flowers, oil scent infusers. Everything gleaming, everything clean.Everything impersonal, distant, too perfect.I touch my face, drag a finger down my cheek. How did I end up here, in this place?My life was a nightmare with Christopher. This is infinitely better. I don't go to sleep wondering if my husband is going to hurt me each night. I still take birth control, but mostly because I'm afraid that if I stop, I'll get trapped.I don't want to feel like I'm in a cage.Not ever again.But this feels wrong too. I should want this place, want the comfort, the ease. I should be happy that I get to lie around the pool all day drinking champagne, chatting with Helen, walking along the lake, watching the sun rise and the sun set.I can go to work if I want to, but I don't have to.But I want more than to exist. I want to be something.
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CaraI chew on my lip for a second, digesting. I've never heard him talk like this before, and the look on his face suggests it isn't easy. "That was hard for you, wasn't it?""Yes," he admits. "But I've been thinking that I don't want to keep going in this war, keep risking my life without ever telling someone that. Without ever admitting I'm imperfect.""Nobody thinks you're perfect, Eros. Nobody expects you to be, either.""In a family like this, even if everyone knows the lord is flawed, they pretend otherwise. Admitting to flaws is admitting to weakness, and weakness gets you killed when you're standing at the top of a mountain built on blood.""But you trust me enough to say it?"He closes his eyes. "You might be the only person I trust, asteraki mu. I know you're angry with me—""I'm not angry."He opens them and looks over. "Then why have you acted like you don't want to be around me?""I'm trying to be realistic," I say softly, forcing myself to stay calm. I swear, he must be
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CaraI open my eyes as sunlight streams in through the window and roll onto my side, expecting an empty bed. It's always empty when Eros comes to sleep with me.Instead, there he is. Awake, staring at the ceiling like an absolute creep, but still here."Hey," I say and clear my throat. "Been awake long?"He shakes his head. "Just got up.""Really?" I check the clock. "It's eight in the morning.""I know, I slept in."I sigh, trying not to smile. "Eight isn't sleeping in.""It is for me." He rolls his head toward me, staring into my eyes. "You snore. Did you know that?""Oh my god," I say and close my eyes. "I was happy you hadn't snuck away for once but now I'm wondering—"He reaches out and rolls toward me. I yelp in surprise as he pulls my wrist and drags me over to his side of the bed like a caveman claiming his rights. I shimmy against him, surprised and shocked by the warmth of his chest, by the sudden quickening of his heart. I'm in a tank top and a pair of old boy short underwe
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CaraI stand outside in the gardens. Bees flit from flower to flower and the sun feels good on my skin. I'm in shorts and a t-shirt, nothing special, my hair up in a messy bun, no makeup, just me and myself. I came out here to get some privacy, and I actually feel like I have some space alone even though Alonzo's lurking nearby. The house is usually filled with staff and soldiers and captains—although I have no clue what half of them are doing at any given time. The smell of the grass, the taste of crisp fall on the breeze, it reminds me of home, and I can forget about where I am for a while.I miss Philadelphia. I don't miss my parents or the house I shared with Christopher, but I miss the streets, the old buildings, the sense of belonging. I knew Philly, knew the alleys, the restaurant, the bars.I knew the people. They were my people.Here though, I'm a stranger. Chicago's foreign, Chicago's like another world, and I feel so disconnected from the city out here on the grounds of the
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