Chapter Twenty-Five Larissa #4
“Fuck me,” I command, refusing his withdrawal, voice cracking with the pleasure I feel and the sting.
Nostrils flaring, his eyes go cold as he fully refuses me, pushing me out and reentering.
It’s only the slight part of his lips and his pleasure-twisted features that let me know he’s still present.
“Tyler,” I utter hoarsely into the void threatening to take up the whole of his eyes, where I know he lingers shallowly beneath.
He’s still with me. It’s everywhere—in his desperate thrusts, his labored breaths, his noises, his touch, and in his kiss.
The mask, the metal, his chosen armor an utter and complete facade.
It’s then I know for certain he’s always there, metal eyes or none.
Despite knowing it and all too eager to shatter it again, to fully mold with whatever’s buried within, I finally give him a well-deserved truth. Even if it’s one I’ve spoken before. “I came for you. I’ve always wanted you.”
The cost of my confession comes just after, when he pushes me flat to the ground, his fingers painfully gripping my ass as he pins me with his chest and begins tearing through me.
As if the devil inside him has fully taken over, he slams himself to the hilt, again and again, as if fucking away my confession.
Denying it.
My suspicions are confirmed when his ragged whisper hits my ear. “I never fucking wanted you.”
With one last thrust, he comes with a choked roar, gripping my hips as he empties into me.
Just after, he releases me, and we both collapse in separate heaps on the ground.
Both of our chests heave as we lie less than a foot apart.
Neither of us utters a word as the hovering moon fills the night sky above us, blanketing us both in its light.
Naked, bitten, and probably bleeding, I turn on my back to stare up at the star-littered sky.
As I take in heaving gulps of air, my body continually pulses in aftershock as the lingering rush continues to run through me.
At the feel of it, I’m unable to help the slight lift of my lips.
As the seconds pass, the urge to laugh becomes increasingly overwhelming, the irony of it not at all lost on me.
Where minutes ago, I was certain I was about to meet my death, I feel more alive than I ever have in my twenty-four years of living. Fear long gone and replaced by something far more substantial. More powerful.
Though there’s absolutely nothing funny about the situation, my smile only deepens as exhilaration runs along my insides, lighting me up with surety.
Lips still upturned, I look over to see Tyler’s eyes tightly shut in disgust or shame or guilt, or all of the above.
It’s then that his words finally register and resonate.
He may never have wanted me, and he hates that he does. He hates that he wanted to fuck me and that he has. It’s all I can see now as he keeps his eyes closed, his expression riddled now with what rings so clear—regret.
In seconds, the elation I feel proves short-lived.
Knowing it’s the truth for him, I quickly avert my eyes from both his profile and the blanket of stars poised behind him.
Furious that I allowed my first glimpse of the cosmos with him, resignation sets in when he finally opens his eyes.
His serrated steel gaze running along my naked skin until I rip my own eyes away.
Chest slowing, I slowly lift to prop my arms behind me and decide to brave the predicted fortune I just turned away from.
Gazing up at the sky full of sentries that just bore witness to what’s transpired, I search them for the fate I just denied myself.
In seeing their collective verdict, I decide to voice it aloud.
“I don’t fear death, but I won’t die for my father’s mafia. My life is worth more than the decision, whim, or will of any soulless man. Fucking you,” I rasp hoarsely, “being with you this way, even if it’s not real, it’s the best I’ve ever felt.”
I shake my head and smile, feeling his eyes on my profile.
“What feels better than this connection? Than being with someone, flesh on flesh? I’ll answer you, because it’s clear you’ve forgotten—nothing. It’s the most beautiful part of life and the only real consolation in living the hell we’re forced to endure. I knew that once, but I’d forgotten it.”
Spotting the Henley a few inches from my feet, I snatch it from the ground and press my head and arms through it. Shivering with the comedown, I wrap both arms around me for some needed warmth.
“For so long, I forgot it, and now that I’ve been reminded, I want to spend the rest of my life celebrating life for what it should be.
Life, real life, and true living. Eating good food, laughing with family, dancing, and fucking.
Not plotting the deaths of those doing business across an imaginary line, which some men decided belongs to them.
Not demanding undeserved respect through fear, or taking tributes.
If I win this war—” I swallow, grabbing my socks and pulling them on one by one.
“I will dissolve the fucking DiCicco mafia as it is and strengthen what organization remains, little by little, and, like Tula, change the game. To some, I’ll be a laughingstock, but I’ll do it my fucking way.
I’ll do it for the culture I love and respect so much.
” Palming the sweats toward me, I shrug.
“I might not know exactly who I am yet, but I do know I’m a proud Italian, save some of the history my name is attached to, and that’s not on me. ”
I nod in confirmation as the words come.
“So, yeah, I choose to live that way instead of enduring and encouraging a sordid history that threatens to destroy what true legacy is. Instead of adding to the illusion that there’s ‘only one way’ of living—men have their business, and women are to be mothers and second mothers to their husbands.
But no man that needs a second mommy will ever fucking appeal to me.
I can and will find this connection with a man who can see me past my name.
Who knows my fucking worth and values my word.
I want that one day. I want to build a life with a man who feels more powerful for giving it back to me.
” I swallow again and shake my head. “And you’re such a coward that you continue to deny the truth behind what your lying lips, eyes, and touch so clearly say, because I’m some horrible man’s child,” I scoff.
“So blinded that you’ve decided, in your eyes, Ciro’s sins are my own …
but tell me, Marine, are your father’s sins your own? ”
It’s then that I finally look over to see he hasn’t missed a single word I’ve spoken. In truth, I’ve never seen him so affected by anything I’ve said. So affected that I might as well have struck him with the way he’s regarding me.
“You gave up on life, and because you did, you’re suffocating me with your hate for it.
And the only thing I can think of is that you’re jealous.
” I lick my lips and shake my head. “Just another idiot man with a stupid fucking notion of how things should be according to his own views, not what they truly are.”
He remains immobile, watching my lips, tracing my face with his eyes as I speak the only truth I have to give him.
“You want my game—it’s life. That’s my fucking game, as it is everyone else’s.
You want the truth? Mine is that nobody is coming to deliver the life I want to me, and no one is coming to save me.
Nobody ever has, but I don’t need them to, and I no longer need you.
Fuck me, threaten me, kill me, but that’s my truth, and it’s not changing. ”
Snatching his Glock from the ground, I point it at his head.
He doesn’t so much as flinch as I weigh it in my palm, knowing that he’s allowed me this upper hand.
Releasing the loaded clip to the ground, I leave the bullet already lodged in the chamber to give him the same advantage before tossing the gun at his booted feet.
If he wants to take my life, he won’t miss.
“You have two days to set me free, or I’m leaving. ”
Refusing him the chance to utter a word to me or for me to hear any of his, I grab my sneakers and head straight for the tent, knowing he won’t follow.
Bundled in the blankets and shivering minutes later, I stare up at the night sky and, for the first time since I left Barga, envision my newly architected future after Ciro.
One I might not live to see, but determined to fight for with every fiber of my being.
My convictions in the words I just spoke growing stronger with every breath I take away from his darkness.
A man that I knew—have always known—would somehow bring me to the light.
And he did—just not in the way I hoped.
No one is coming.
It’s all up to me.