Bad for You

Seven

T here is so much fucking blood.

Most would be terrified of the girl in front of me, but to me, Valentina is a fucking goddess, slathered in her enemy’s blood.

I’ve never seen her as a sister. And Gianna never raised us this way for a reason. She will wage a war between us one day and use us for her own personal gain. I don’t trust her, but Valentina does.

And that is why I have stayed away.

I cannot grow too close to her because, in the end, it’ll destroy us both.

Gianna is right—love makes you weak. Having someone you would die for is collateral. So I detach as best I can even though it kills me to know that Valentina doesn’t think I care.

It’s because I do care that I pretend she doesn’t exist.

But tonight, I could not.

Gianna will no doubt be pissed I snuck away, but the thought of Valentina being here alone, with this motherfucker; I just couldn’t deal.

But I should have known she could take care of herself.

However, walking into the carnage I did was something I did not expect.

She is broken, and I’m afraid that perhaps she is too far gone. So much has happened to her. She has known nothing but hate.

And that is why I kissed her because I wanted to replace the memories of her first kill with her first kiss instead.

Kiss or kill.

Kill or kiss.

Both have the ability to destroy one forevermore. I just hope that maybe she’ll clutch on to the small shred of light and not be consumed by the darkness eating away at her.

I’m an adult. I can leave at any time. But I don’t, and that’s because I can’t leave Valentina. The need to protect her, which was ingrained in me from the moment we met, hasn’t gone away. It’s only grown.

So I stay.

I watch from afar, ensuring she’s okay.

She thinks I don’t care.

But it’s because I care that I do what I do.

Gianna adopting us was never by chance. She trained us to be her lapdogs because she is waging a war, and that war…Gianna Ricci is the biggest drug lord this side of the world has ever seen, and her competition is Aldo Cattaneo, the man who Valentina said was coming to “save” us.

Gianna got to us before he could. If he wanted us, then she believed us to be valuable, no doubt. She didn’t adopt us out of the goodness of her heart. She did so because her enemy wanted us.

The question to all this, however, is why?

For years, I’ve been trying to find the answers, but the world’s biggest drug lords do not leave paper trails. They don’t set a foot out of place.

They have people like Valentina and me doing their dirty work.

We’re nothing but pawns to them, which is why I have to be careful.

I am a one-man army because I can only trust myself. I cannot go to Aldo just yet. I need to earn his trust, and the only way I can do that is to betray Gianna. But if I do that, then what happens to Valentina?

So Gianna was right—love does indeed make you weak, but as I look at the beautiful angel in front of me, I would happily surrender to it all because all that we have is love.

“Let’s go,” I say, gesturing with my head that we’re to bounce.

She looks disappointed but nods.

I don’t hold her hand.

I step over the corpse, not bothering to conceal the crime. I feel sorry for the poor asshole who has to clean this up because my girl made a mess.

Valentina stops to look at her handiwork with a smile. She curses him out in Italian before following me out the door.

The hallway is empty, but from the ruckus downstairs, the party is still in full swing. When I feel Valentina tug on my wrist, I ignore the fire burning in my belly and yank my arm from her grip.

She appears wounded by my response.

Good.

I turn to look at her, but she catches me off guard as she stands on her toes and reaches up, wiping her thumb across my cheek. I watch as she then smudges a bloodstain down a cherub statue’s face. I cleaned her up but failed to do the same to myself.

I see the significance of this because it’s something she’s done before.

She’s done this to my face before.

The bloodlust between us is a heady feeling, and I instantly feel myself getting hard.

Seems we’re just as fucked up as the other, but it’s all we’ve known.

Once she’s done, she gestures I’m to lead the way.

We descend the stairs and are greeted by drunken bodies, laughing obnoxiously, oblivious to the reality in which they exist.

Gianna is not one of these people, however. She sees us before we do her. She’s always two steps ahead. And that’s why I’m careful.

Without a doubt, she’s done her research on us. She knows where my brother is, and it’s why I have to play nice when, in reality, I want to bring down her empire and save Valentina from burning alive.

Valentina’s bravado simmers when Gianna gives her a knowing look. This is why I need to stay. Gianna is the marionette and Valentina her puppet.

Valentina is Gianna’s secret weapon.

Look what she was able to achieve upstairs. Everyone is unsuspecting of a young woman, which Gianna tends to exploit. And the woman Valentina is growing into—no man or woman stands a chance against her.

She is so beautiful. Anyone would happily take their last breath if her lips delivered the blood kiss.

The thought of another man kissing that mouth has a feral possession overcoming me, and when a fucker walks a little close to Valentina, eyeing her disrespectfully, I don’t hide the fact he has three seconds to fuck off before I strangle him with his red bow tie.

Gianna walks, and we’re to follow as always—like her little lapdogs.

We slip out into the night, undetected, leaving behind a bloodbath which is the reason we came.

When in the car, we wait for Gianna to speak.

“Your first kill at seventeen,” she says with an almost gratification to her tone. “I’m proud of you.”

I conceal my anger while Valentina’s face expresses her happiness at Gianna’s approval. She is never proud, so when moments like this arise, it is as if Valentina cured fucking cancer.

Every move of Gianna’s is calculated. She is paving the path for her succession to overthrow her rival and become queen.

“You remember that man?”

Valentina nods.

“How did that make you feel?”

We know better than to make Gianna wait when she asks a question.

“Alive.”

I want to open this door and throw us from the car. I would rather those odds of survival than another moment with Gianna.

Valentina believes it’s her I despise when, in reality, I cannot stand being around Gianna. I’ve had to stop myself countless times from suffocating her in her sleep. Or poisoning her food. But it’s fruitless because she doesn’t trust me. She watches me, waiting for me to slip up.

I need to catch her unawares. I need to find her weakness because we all have one.

And Gianna knows Valentina is mine.

When I find what her weakness is, only then can I leave behind this life and take Valentina—kicking and screaming if I must.

“I knew you were special,” she has the gall to say.

She’s really tugging on the heartstrings. I have a feeling that’s all for me because she knows I see through her bullshit. She has always purposely put us against one another while she stands back and watches the mess she made.

I need to find Aldo, and I need to find him now.

“You’re ready.”

Both Valentina and I look at Gianna.

Ready for what exactly?

She leaves the statement hanging, of course, because she is a narcissistic asshole.

I thought I had time, but it’s clear I don’t. I had hoped Valentina would see what I did, but the point of tonight was to “reward” Valentina. Gianna gave her, her revenge, and now Valentina feels some sense of obligation toward her.

She is building her up for the grand prize, however, and that prize—can you guess what, or rather, who that is?

Ding! Ding! Ding!

Father Merry.

He is the reason Valentina could kill a man with a smile. He is the reason she suffered in ways no child ever should, and I think she has this idea that if she does to him what he did to her, things will be…better.

But there’s no better.

Once he’s gone, the pain she carries will still be there. It will only create a bigger void, and I fear she will forever be lost in the darkness.

But I won’t allow it.

I may not have found Gianna’s weakness, but I know one thing she wants—me.

I see the way she watches me. I know I’m no ugly duckling, not that that even fucking matters. You can be the most beautiful person on the outside, but if you’re ugly on the inside, you’re a fucking impostor. A fake. But I use what I know Gianna likes to hopefully play her at her own game.

When I got my first tattoo of a tree, starting from my shoulder and wrapping its way around my bicep, I saw how she looked at me with lust in her eyes, and I knew I could use that for my gain. So it was then that I decided to become a predator, using what I have to trick people into getting what I want.

And it was so easy.

I usually grab the first thing that’s clean, but it works somehow. The pendant around my neck is the only thing that means something to me.

It was my father’s, and I ripped it from his throat as he lay dying, begging for help. My mother had taken her last breath long ago. Her corpse beside him. And my baby brother, sitting in the corner of the room with a grin, the bloody hammer he used on them still in his hand.

I had no other choice but to burn the house to the ground, concealing what he had done.

But he wasn’t a bad kid. He’d just had enough. I didn’t know what they were doing because I was never home. But when he told me, it was too late.

My father wasn’t his biological dad, and he made sure Lewis knew this each time he beat him until he was black and blue. And my mom, she didn’t do a damn thing about it.

Parents are supposed to protect their kids from the monsters—not be one.

We had no family to stay with, so we were put into the system even though I was promised we wouldn’t be separated.

But again, humanity failed.

Not a day passes when I don’t think about him. I wonder where he is and if he’s safe. And there isn’t a day when I don’t regret failing him.

I couldn’t save the only person who loved me. Not because he had to but because he wanted to.

And that’s why I won’t allow it to happen again.

I will protect Valentina how I couldn’t protect my brother.

We ride the rest of the way in silence, but my mind races.

What is headed Valentina’s way?

Gianna has been training us harder and harder, preparing us for something.

But what?

When we pull up at the house, I open the door before the car has come to a stop and get out.

I need to get away from Gianna before I strangle her.

The easy thing would be to ask Gianna, again, where my brother is. She knows. She says she doesn’t, but we both know she’s lying. And that’s why I don’t trust her.

That’s the reason I’m going to take her down.

She’s right because love is collateral. But for someone to use it against you shows that they don’t give a fuck about love.

For years, I’ve tolerated her shit, but it’s getting harder and harder. And now that I know something is on the horizon for us, I need to step it up.

I just don’t know how.

I have a few ways, but all mean hurting Valentina.

Storming down the hill, I yank off my jacket and throw it to the ground. I do the same with my bow tie. I unbutton three buttons because I suddenly feel like I’m suffocating.

“Fuck,” I mutter under my breath, fisting my hair.

I have never felt more helpless.

“What’s wrong?”

It takes every ounce of strength I have not to tell her the truth. That I don’t trust Gianna and we need to leave this place right now. I don’t tell her this because I know what the answer will be, especially after tonight.

So I push aside my emotions and do what I do best—ignore her.

But she does something she’s not done before. She grabs my wrist, stopping me from storming off.

I tongue my cheek, making a point to look at her fingers around me. “Did I tell you, you could touch me?”

I attempt to snatch back my arm, but she uses the other hand to hold my forearm. “Did I tell you, you could kiss me?”

Touché, tesoro mio…

I mull over her comment, faking confusion. “We kissed?”

My comment stings, especially since it was her first kiss.

“Oh, fuck you, Lennon.”

She only uses my full name when she’s angry—like right now.

“I know you dream of that every night.”

“How dare you do this?”

“Do what?”

When she takes her time, I yawn, which infuriates her further.

She releases me only to do something which shocks but pisses me off in the same breath—she slaps me.

I can see the surprise on her face, but she soon owns it. “Oops, I slipped.”

Every part of me demands I walk away, but that animalistic part of me that is all alpha dog just can’t.

She knows she has a three-second window before I make her regret coming out here to see if I was okay.

She turns, but it’s too late.

I pick her up and throw her over my shoulder. She fights wildly, but I hold her tight. She weighs next to nothing, but she puts up a good fight.

“Put me down, or I swear to God—”

As she flails uncontrollably, I buck her off-balance, and she grips me for support. Her threats go ignored, however, as I continue walking.

“Can’t keep your hands off me, tesoro mio? ”

“Oh, get over yourself! And I am not your tesoro mio .”

“You are what I say you are.”

A string of Italian profanities spills from her, and I can’t keep the smirk from my face.

When she sees where we’re heading, those profanities turn to pleas.

“No, you wouldn’t. Please no.”

Too late.

I toss her into the lake without a second thought.

The splash she makes has me chuckling. She’s going to be so mad.

She splutters as she breaks the surface, but she needs to be taught a lesson as she seems to listen when Gianna lays them down. I walk into the water, and when she tries to stand, I shove her back down. She peers up at me, surprised.

“Oops, I slipped.”

A scream tears from her throat as she frantically fights against the water and the weight of her dress to stand. But the only way to achieve what I need is for her to fear me.

She once trusted me, and look what happened.

No, that won’t work.

I hate myself for it, but I remind myself this is all part of the plan to save her, and I guess for that to happen, I have to show her how badly she wants to live.

Forgive me…

Before she has a chance to find her footing, I grip the back of her neck and shove her head into the water, holding her down. She fights frantically, but I don’t let her go.

Her hands skim the water, tugging at invisible hands to help her.

But the only person who can help her is herself.

I count to fifteen before lifting her face out of the water, but I don’t let her stand.

“You fucker!” she wheezes, slapping her fists against the water. “Let me go!”

I do the opposite and shove her face back down again.

My heart hurts. But a part of me also likes it.

It’s the part that makes Valentina and me one and the same.

I understand her because I am her.

I too get off on the violence.

I too feel most alive in the blood and chaos.

But I don’t want that life for her.

I grapple with my morals every single day, and sometimes, I’m afraid the demons will conquer me because it’s so much easier being bad than being good.

I yank her face out of the water, enraged. “Killing a man makes you feel alive? Is that it?”

She struggles madly, the fight in her never dying. And I don’t expect anything less. That is why Gianna will use her as her most powerful weapon.

She will destroy the innocent girl who looked at me with terror but curiosity from that attic window. And I’m afraid she will never look at me like that again.

I’m afraid that I will no longer recognize the girl who saved me when she didn’t have to—she saved me in so many ways.

She bargained for my freedom like we were a package deal.

No one has ever given a shit about me my entire life, no one but her and Lewis. That is why I need to save them both.

I might be too late for Lewis, but I’m not too late for her.

“You’re such a fucking hero,” I mock, bending low and getting in her face. “Killing a man and pretending you don’t care.”

“I don’t care!”

“Life means so little to you, does it?”

“Yes, I don’t care! I don’t care about anything. I don’t care about you! I don’t care about that fucking man! I don’t care about anyone! I don’t care because I feel nothing. Feelings do nothing but hurt. And I’m sick of hurting! I’ve been hurting my entire life!”

“Boo-fucking-hoo!” I scream inches from her face. “Get over it. That excuse doesn’t stick. It makes you sound like a whiny little bitch.”

Her eyes widen, and she tries to grab me, but I dodge her.

“I hate you!”

“Good.”

“You’ve not spoken to me for years because you’re upset I kicked your ass? Who’s the whiny little bitch?”

“Oh, please. I have better things to do than waste my time on some immature little girl.”

“I wasn’t a little girl when I slit that man’s throat,” she says with pride.

And that’s what I need to flush from her mind.

I need her to feel. Not switch off. I need her to hold on to her humanity before she is lost to me forever.

“It was survival of the fittest. He lost, and I won. I don’t care if I live or die. All I care about is getting my revenge!”

That arrogance will get her killed. One day, she will underestimate the wrong person, and they will say the same thing to her as they end her life.

“Let’s test that theory out, then.”

She opens her mouth, about to curse me out, but I shove her head back down into the water.

I hold her down for ten seconds.

Then let her back up for five before forcing her back under.

I hold her down for fifteen seconds.

Then let her back up for ten and so forth until she is dunked under the water more than out of it.

The fight in her never dies, however. Her spirit is strong, just as I knew it would be.

I count down from ten, and when I reach one, I yank her out.

She gasps for air, her mouth like a fish out of water, and I hope she remembers this if she ever gambles with her life.

“Don’t care whether you live or die?” I taunt, finally letting her go. “Think of this moment whenever you fool yourself into thinking that is true.”

She doesn’t attempt to rise as she catches her breath.

She looks like a drowned cat, but as the full moon comes out of hiding, I’ve never seen a more beautiful sight.

We will always be joined in one way or another, and I will fight for her safety and her humanity even when she doesn’t want me to.

“I hate you,” she says once again, but the way she is looking at me, how a girl looks at a boy, we both know that’s not true.

But I won’t touch her that way.

Not until she asks me. And not until she’s a woman who can make choices that are hers alone.

“No, tesoro mio , you hate yourself that you don’t.”

A furious scream has me grinning from ear to ear as I leave her alone to lick her wounds.