Chapter 10
Chapter Ten
M y fists hit the punching bag ferociously, the jarring sensation of my hands making contact travelling up my arms with each blow.
Sweat dripped down my face onto my bare chest, my breathing tight and controlled as I ran through different combos: jab, jab, left hook, right uppercut, knee followed swiftly by an elbow strike.
I viciously attacked the punching bag like it was my worst enemy. Like every strike I delivered would somehow alleviate all my pent-up anger and frustration over the last few days.
It didn’t. But it did make me feel a little better. Beating shit up usually did.
It had been five days since we rescued Illayana and kidnapped the Zetas, and so far the only thing we’d learned was that Drea was Juan’s sister.
Our usual torture techniques had no effect, which I’ll admit I found surprising. Even Angel, who I could have sworn would be the weak link, my way in, proved to be tougher than he looked.
Father didn’t care about their claims of innocence.
Neither did Arturo. In their eyes, they were all guilty for being in the same room with Illayana that night.
For helping Nero in his crusade against the Cosa Nostra that put her in danger.
They wanted blood and pain as penance for their crimes against her.
And they paid it. Ten times over. We all watched as Arturo cut each of their dicks from their bodies. As he carved them into pieces. Their blood now stained the walls of the pit, along with all the others who’d stood against us in the past. Tried to hurt our family.
Except for Drea.
I rammed my fist into the bag with a grunt, my frustration spiking all over again. Drea’s only saving grace was the fact that she wasn’t in the room that night with the rest of the Zetas. If she had been, Father would have demanded her death too.
The part that pissed me off the most was I wasn’t sure if I would have allowed it. The thought of Drea dying, of her sassy attitude and that fiery personality disappearing forever, made my chest tighten.
What would I have done if Father told me to kill her? To torture her like the others?
All my life I’d done what my father asked, never disobeying a single order. If Father told you to do something, you did it. End of discussion.
And yet, as I laid into the punching bag with everything I had, I couldn’t say with complete certainty that if he told me to kill her, I would have. Because I honestly didn’t know.
Since finding out her identity, I’d made a conscious effort to stay away from her.
I didn’t trust myself around her. Didn’t trust the feelings she brought out in me.
My loss of control over the whole situation irritated me to no end.
I was a man of action. Always had been. If I wanted something, I took it.
I didn’t quibble over the ramifications, the consequences.
I did what I wanted, when I wanted. Which was why my feelings towards Drea annoyed me so much.
I couldn’t act on them. She was the enemy. Part of a gang that kidnapped and tried to rape my sister. Yet, despite all that, I wanted her.
I’d never felt such an overwhelming need for another, such a burning ache boiling in my blood.
That feral, primal side of me just wanted to hunt her.
Take her. Take her and fuck her into submission.
Until she was screaming my name into the night.
Those full, pouty lips, luscious curves and tight little body made me crazy.
Wild. Fucking savage. Add in that sassy attitude that screamed for someone to just fuck it out of her and I was absolutely consumed with the thought of having her.
Once a day, I went to see her. To offer her a chance to change her circumstances if she answered my questions. Simply told me what I wanted to know. And every day she told me to go fuck myself.
Not that surprising, to be honest.
Usually, if a prisoner behaved the way she did, I scoured their flesh, unleashed the most amount of pain a person could endure before they died.
It irritated me that I couldn’t bring myself to do that to Drea, that the idea of causing her physical harm made my stomach churn.
The thought of her in any type of pain brought out a fierce, protective instinct inside me that was only reserved for family.
She was beautiful. Strong willed. Brave, with a crazy erratic personality that completely excited me. I never knew what she was going to say next, what insults she was going to hurl my way. It thrilled me. And it really shouldn’t.
I normally hated when people talked back to me, disrespected me. But for some reason when Drea did it, I got hard as a fucking rock.
“Who pissed in your Wheaties this morning?”
I finished off my combo with a brutal high kick, my shin smashing into the bag with such force it swung backwards, the metal holding it in place groaning in protest. I took a deep breath and turned, finding Illayana leaning against the boxing ring, arms crossed over her chest. A cheeky as fuck grin was plastered on her face.
She was dressed casually in black sweats and a white long-sleeved shirt, her hair wound up tightly in a bun.
“Shouldn’t you be packing?” I walked over to a small bench off to the side, grabbing a towel and wiping the sweat from my face.
Tomorrow, Illayana would leave to go join her now husband in New York. I was sad to see her go. The house was never going to be the same without her and Lukyan. I would never admit it to them, but I was going to miss them both.
Neither of them could go a day without getting in each other’s faces, their ridiculous fighting being one of our main sources of entertainment. Nik and I would actually bet on who would win whenever they got into a scrap. Which was often.
Speaking of, that fucker still owed me fifty bucks from the last time.
Illayana shrugged. “I don’t leave until tomorrow. I’ve got time.”
I shook my head, taking a sip from my water bottle. “You’re going to leave it to the last minute, like you always do. Then, you’re going to flip out and snap at everyone because you’re stressed about not being on time.”
“Oh, you think you know me so well, don’t you?” she said in a snarky tone.
“Because I do.” I took a seat on the bench, draping the towel over my shoulder. “For example, I know that the reason you’re standing in front of me right now is because you want something.”
She gasped, feigning innocence. “How dare-I can’t believe you would say that to me. Can’t a girl just want to spend some time with her brother before she leaves?”
I gave her a ‘who do you think you’re trying to fool’ look. “Just tell me what you want, or whatever it is, the answer will be no.”
“Okay, okay,” she blew out quickly. “I wanna spar.”
I arched an eyebrow. “Who pissed you off?” Illayana only ever wanted to spar when someone made her angry. It was her outlet, what she used to work through her anger.
“Who do you think?” she huffed, taking a seat where she stood, crossing her legs.
The sound of weights clanking, rough, masculine grunting as a few of our men worked out echoed around us. The atmosphere stunk of sweat and BO, the stench making my nose wrinkle.
“Arturo’s pissed I’m not in New York already. He wanted me there days ago, but I kept putting it off because I didn’t want to leave with everything going on right now.”
“I told you before, we’ve got it covered. There’s nothing for you to worry about.”
“I know, it’s just—” a distraught look crossed her face and she stopped speaking, eyes flicking to the ground.
“You’re scared,” I finished for her. “Scared something’s going to happen while you’re gone. But you’ve got to have faith that we can handle it, otherwise you’re never going to be able to relax.”
She nodded, a deep exhale leaving her mouth. “Yeah, you’re right.” Her phone dinged and she reached into her pocket, pulling it out. Her lips pursed in annoyance.
“Arturo?” I asked.
“Yes. He’s trying to bribe me into coming early.”
“Bribe you? With what?”
Her gaze shifted away from me awkwardly and I quickly raised my hand. “Nope. Forget I asked. I don’t want to know.”
She laughed softly. “Maybe I could go early. If I leave within the next few hours, I could get there by tonight.”
I got to my feet. “You can’t. You didn’t hear this from me, but Father’s planning you a surprise farewell dinner for tonight. He’s having Flora make all your favourites, and he’s even breaking out all the old school boardgames.”
Her face softened. “Aw, he’s just a big ol’ softy deep inside, isn’t he?”
“Don’t let him catch you calling him that. He’ll beat your ass just to prove he’s not.”
She winced. “Good point. You think games are a good idea though? Remember the last time we played monopoly?”
Amusement rippled through me. She had a point. The last time we played, she stabbed Lukyan in the hand with a fork when she caught him cheating, dipping into the bank and stealing money when no one was looking. From that point on, monopoly had been banned from the house.
“I’m sure it will be fine. As long as you keep your cool.”
“Me?” she pointed to her chest. “ Me? Talk to Lukyan. He’s the cheater.”
I rolled my eyes. Those two were so competitive with one another. It was insane. They would compete over everything . Who could eat their dinner the quickest. Who was faster in a race. Who was the better shot. If they could compete over it, they did it.
I walked over to the boxing ring and jumped up, climbing under the ropes. I held them up in invitation. “Still want to spar?”
An excited smile curved on Illayana’s lips.
* * *
I hurled Illayana over my shoulder and body slammed her to the ground, a painful grunt falling from her lips. I scurried over her, locked her in an arm bar and reared back, stopping just before I snapped her arm in half.
Illayana screeched, her legs flailing. She tapped repeatedly on my leg, and I let her go, rolling back and landing in a crouch.