Chapter 17
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
THE HEATHEN
I’m in Carter’s room reading peacefully when Killian storms in, causing the hairs on my arms to stand on end.
While they’ve been few, every interaction I’ve had with him has been irritating, yet invigorating.
I haven’t seen him since he stormed off yesterday from the lounge.
I spent the night with Knox and Carter, eating pizza and watching chick flicks, despite Knox’s grumblings.
He tosses a brown bag at me, knocking the book out of my hands to the floor.
“Fucking get dressed in something that’s not showing your ass off.”
I rise from my chair and place my hands on my hips as I tilt my head to the side and glare at him. Obviously, his mood hasn’t improved since last night.
“Why are you being such a dick? Who hurt you, Killian?”
He returns my glare before his lips pull up into a smirk.
“Aww Killer. I know you keep thinking about my dick, but you can’t have it. I don’t fuck trash.”
I cross my arms over my chest as I continue to narrow my gaze at him. I don’t know or care what his problem is, but I fucking hate him.
“Yet you fuck the stripper skank. What’s her name? Paprika?”
He steps closer to me and places his hand around my throat, squeezing until he limits my air, but doesn’t completely cut it off.
“It’s Cinnamon. Knox will be back inside her sweet pussy the second he realizes what a waste of fucking time you are. And you’ll be back to kneeling for your Prophet. Or do you call him Daddy? Daddy Prophet?”
Killian removes his hand from my throat, as he laughs and walks out of the room, leaving me a gasping mess as I try to catch my breath.
I walk over to the door and yell at his back.
“You’re a dick, Killian, and I’m not rewarding your bad behavior. If you had asked nicely, I would’ve gotten dressed, but now, fuck you!”
Picking up the book, I sit back in the chair, while I let out a long breath.
Killian comes storming back into the room, and kicks the door closed before locking it.
My heart rate sky rockets as he approaches me, appearing far calmer than I know he is.
“Alright, Killer. It’s time we set some ground rules if you’re going to be in my fucking house.”
The way he growls the last part of his sentence causes my breath to catch in my throat.
He grabs the book out of my hands, throws it on the bed, and strokes his fingers down my hair as he stares down at me with a crazed expression on his face. I think he’s trying to appear gentle, but I don’t understand why.
Then he wraps my hair around his fist and yanks hard, lifting me from the chair.
“You may have my brothers wrapped around your dainty pinky, Killer, but I fucking see you for the disastrous storm you are.”
As I stand trembling, he slides his nose over my flesh as he pulls my hair harder until a whimper escapes from my throat.
My hopes of him not noticing are dashed as he chuckles against my skin, his warm breath washing over me as my clit pulses with need.
“Such a filthy slut, aren’t you, Killer?”
He drags me over to the bed, pushing me onto the mattress and lays on top of me, pinning me as I lie frozen in place. I’m not afraid of him, but I’m terrified of the way my body responds to him.
“When I tell you to do something, you’ll do it.”
He grinds his hard cock against my covered, throbbing pussy, and again, I can’t fight back the whimper.
“Stop thinking about me fucking you. I already told you, I don’t fuck trash.”
“Then why is your cock hard?” I can feel it firm against my stomach.
He wraps his hand around my throat and squeezes hard, cutting off my air supply. I attempt to kick him, but I can barely see from the lack of oxygen.
“It would be so easy, Killer. I could probably even convince my brothers it was a tragic accident. It won’t take much to push me too far, so when I tell you to do something, I suggest you do it.”
He removes his hand from my throat and stands up, staring at me as I cough and gasp, trying to catch the breath he was depriving me of.
“You’re such an asshole,” I choke out as I rub my tender skin.
Killian smirks at me.
“I know, Killer. Which is why you should get dressed. I promise, if I have to come in here again, I won’t be nice. The kindness I showed you was a one time thing.”
As he walks to the door, I blurt out.
“Nice? You think that was nice?”
He chuckles obnoxiously. “You’re alive, aren’t you?”
I fight myself to not respond, because I don’t want to do anything that will make him come back in here.
The less I see of Killian, the better. I’ll ignore the way it feels when he touches me.
When he looks at me with those dark eyes.
Killian is an absolute bastard, and I honestly believe keeping my distance from him is the only way I’ll survive.
Like his brothers, he’s hot as hell, but that’s where any good in him ends.
They are identical triplets. How can one of them be so vastly different from the other two?
I grab the bag of clothing and pull everything out to find a black bra that appears to be my size, along with jeans and a black t-shirt that causes me to raise my eyebrow with a gasp.
The t-shirt has three skulls with wings, and says The Bonetti Bastards across it.
Bonetti? That was Raven's last name, and I clearly remember Bianca’s psychiatrist, Dr. Martin, making reference to the Bonetti Brothers when we were in Wellard Asylum.
Are these men the Bonetti Brothers? Or do they just share a common name?
I’m sure there are people with my last name that I’m not related to. Is this just a coincidence?
Or is it more?
No, it can’t be. These three are involved in criminal activity, but none of them said the word mafia. But then, why would they admit to that? I'm practically a stranger.
I hurry to get dressed, if for no other reason than to lower the temperature with Killian. Mafia.
What in the hell have I gotten myself mixed up in?