Chapter 41
Fuck. I could strangle Victoria. She knows better than to say shit like that in front of Bianca.
I want to kill her for the intentional slip up, but my girl seems comfortable with her.
After what she went through in the asylum, doctors are a trigger for her, and I might not find another she’d be willing to see.
This is what this woman does to me. Before Bianca, I would’ve killed the bitch without a second thought.
I walk into the living room, and find all the brothers sitting on the black sectional, talking amongst themselves. The chatter stops as soon as they see me. The sudden silence is deafening.
I grab the whiskey from the glass coffee table, and pour two fingers into an empty glass.
Sitting in the empty chair across from them, I take a pull from my drink.
“What do you want to know?” I ask after swallowing.
They share a glance, and Bones speaks first.
“You seemed to know about us. When did you find out?”
I take another drink and admit, “I found out when I was five. My mother was having a fight with our father. She wanted him to leave your mom, but he wouldn’t, because he couldn’t let people know he was fucking a Bianchi. He said it was important to be married for power.”
Bones shakes his head.
“Yeah, it’s how I ended up married. He believed that until the day he died.”
Reaper asks, “Is your mom alive?”
I swallow down the rest of my drink and nod.
“Until I fucking kill her, yes.”
They are all known to be a close knit family, so I’m not surprised by the shocked expressions across from me.
I explain, “She let a lot of shit go down with Padre and Frank. Never once did she try to stop the never ending abuse. The fucking rape. One day she’ll pay for that.”
More shock registers on their faces, but Reaper’s is different. It’s not shock, but pain. Visceral fucking anguish stares back at me with my face, and it’s hard to look at. It reminds me of the time when I was twelve. I fight the flashback, as I always do.
‘One hundred. Ninety-nine. Ninety-eight.’
I lose the fight once again.
This time it wasn’t my mouth, but my ass. I stand staring at the reflection in the mirror, as the anger travels inside me.
‘You’re fucking weak, Raven. You didn’t even fight. Sick fucker. You probably wanted it.’
“No!” I scream at the mirror, and slam my fist into the glass.
“I hate you. You’re a fucking loser, and I’m going to kill you.”
I breathe heavily, staring at myself through the broken mirror. Blood runs from my knuckles down my arms, and gives me a strange sense of satisfaction.
Reaper’s voice snaps me out of the past.
“Did Frank hurt you too?”
I glance up at him, and admit it with a nod.
“We will leave you two alone,” Bones says, while motioning for the others to get up, and they walk into the kitchen.
“They didn’t have to leave. I’m not ashamed of it. It happened, and I deal with it.”
Reaper shakes his head, like this is unbelievable to him.
“It might’ve been more for my benefit than yours. I still have a hard time talking about it. When I was a kid, Frank raped me with a lead pipe. My brothers found out much later. Padre wanted it kept secret. He was always ashamed of me.”
I force down the bile rising in my throat, at the thought that we both went through this.
“Did Padre watch with you too? And fucking do nothing?”
Reaper’s expression goes from pain to shock and revulsion.
“No. Of course he didn’t watch.”
I can tell our stories are not the same, just with his reaction alone.
“He watched it? You’re fucking kidding, right?”
I shake my head. “No, I’m not. He watched while Frank fucked my mouth. He watched while Frank fucked my ass. All of it.”
Reaper leans forward, his elbows on his knees, and buries his face in his hands. His breathing is heavy, so I don’t say more. I give him a minute to process the information I just forced on him.
“Why did I think I was the only victim?” He asks, his voice slightly muffled against his palms.
“I was an easy target. Nobody was ever supposed to know about me. I don’t exist, so it didn’t matter. Maybe that’s why Padre watched with me. He felt safe. Had he done that with you, it could’ve gone differently.”
A weird grin appears on his face, as he chuckles like he’s laughing at his own joke.
“My girl killed him,” he says proudly.
I tilt my head at him in curiosity.
“He attacked her, or what happened?”
He bursts out into laughter, and looks happy as he thinks about it.
“It wasn’t funny at the time. She got hurt in the process, but she went after him, when she found out what he did to me. My crazy Bella, she killed that asshole.”
I sit staring at him with an arched brow, as I try to imagine, but I can’t. The information I received was that Bella Bonetti killed him, but I still can’t wrap my head around it. What kind of a woman does that?
“She charmed the guards into letting her into his house. There was a fight, and things happened that still make me fucking sick, but she killed him. She has a thing for killing fuckers that hurt people, especially children.”
My gaze snaps to his.
“She kills people?”
Pride beams on his face as he admits, “Oh yeah. She’s a fucking bonafide serial killer. My living dead girl is special.”
It kind of reminds me of Bianca’s friend Heather, but I don’t ask if this Bella woman has trauma like she does. It’s not my business, and I wouldn’t tell him private information about my girl either.
“We were prepared to hate you, but it’s hard to hate my face. I don’t know what the fuck happens now,” Reaper says, and it sounds like he’s talking to himself more than me, but I can’t help but laugh.
“Let’s get this fucking straight right now. I don’t have your face. You have mine.”
He shakes his head in disagreement.
“I was born at 12:01 am. Can you beat that?” I ask.
“Fuck,” he groans, “I was born after interrupting dinner. I’m still the goddamn youngest.”