Chapter 12 #2
Nico comes into the room, amused as he sees the position Pablo is in.
“I’m frustrated,” he says. “Pick a hole, Dario. I need to fuck this out so I can pretend to be a patient person tomorrow.”
“Rosalia seemed nice,” Pablo admits. “What is she being a pain about?”
“It’s probably the part where Nico mentioned breeding her like an animal,” I grunt, wondering if my stepbrother’s lips are as soft as they look.
Nico and I are both deflecting. Neither of us have any real experience with women, and there are hard conversations and things that need to be done to remain in compliance with our father’s will.
“How about we let Rosalia get some alone time with Verona, and you can breed my holes instead,” Pablo says with an evil smile.
Yeah, that sounds like a much better idea.
* * *
VERONA
In the dark of night, I wonder if Rosa is going to continue to pretend to sleep. Now that the sedative is well out of her system, our bond is loud between us, despite there only being one bite between us.
It’s when I hear the quiet crying that I rub my hand over her hip. My movements are full of pain from the knife wounds, so she’s going to need to turn to face me.
I doubt she’s had more than two hours of sleep while I’ve drifted in and out.
“You’re not hiding anything from me. Tell me everything. No holds barred, no lying, Rosa.”
“I broke my promise to you,” she hiccups, turning to face me. “I stopped fighting. I let them break me when they violated me. I’m sorry.”
It takes everything within me to continue breathing. I can’t react, because this isn’t about me. This is about purging whatever is festering inside of her.
“I don’t judge people based on what they have to do to survive,” I whisper to mask my emotions.
“I didn’t have any power to help you, so I can’t judge you for giving up either.
Rosa, you’ve had years of experience living with that insane man you have to call your father.
I didn't even think he was capable of this. Are you in any pain?”
“Not really, outside of a headache. The nightmares aren’t great though. It’s what woke me up just now. He alpha barked me to stop fighting back…”
“I shouldn’t have used my alpha bark on you when I was angry and desperate, baby. I don’t want to be like him in any way.”
“I know. I do. I’m tired of having my life dictated to me. I’m expected to be a baby factory now,” she growls. “What if I’m a terrible mother?”
“That’s not possible,” I deny. “You’ll protect your daughter from all the bullshit that exists in this world. We need to be the bright spot when everything else falls apart, Rosa. You need to heal and get strong again. Don’t let those men push you around.”
I think about how she doesn’t know that Nico and possibly Ciro are her scent matches and make a face she can’t see.
“Rosa.”
“Yeah?” Her voice is sleepy as she curls up beside me, already beginning to fall back to sleep.
“It is possible to care for more than one person. I think you should give Nico a chance, baby. He’s a bumbling idiot, but I think there could be something there. We’re here for the long haul, Rosa. May as well try to find a little peace with it.”
Her breathing evens out without responding, and I close my eyes in defeat. Fuck. I hope she remembers we spoke in the morning.
I also haven’t forgotten Pablo. How can I when his scent feels as if it’s sinking into the walls and carpets of this house? Pushing myself up as I breathe through the pain of skin and muscles pulling uncomfortably, I force myself to stand.
I need to move, and maybe find air that doesn’t smell like cinnamon rolls.
Whatever pain medication was slipped into my IV earlier today has burned out of my system.
The Domino’s can say it was nothing more than fluids and antibiotics, but I would swear that I felt better than I had any right to earlier.
I feel every movement now, and it reminds me I’m lucky to be alive.
Padding out of the room, I make sure to close the door behind me. I doubt anyone will climb into bed with her, these men don’t seem to have the same level of depravity that clings to the Accetta family.
My switch blade is in my hand anyway, a habit over the last few weeks that I can’t seem to break.
The air on the back porch as I exit hits me in the face like a warm, wet blanket, and the sky is rumbling with the threat of rain. Beads of sweat collect on my skin as I walk down the steps and let the grass ground me in the backyard.
Spending nine days on the street is not for the faint of heart.
I was only able to stay at a shelter once before I decided I was better off sleeping in parks or abandoned buildings, and managed to change my clothes every few days from the backpack I stuffed with personal items before jumping out of the window of my grandmother’s house.
Thank god for the bathrooms with shower stalls at the gym I was able to use with the twenty dollar membership I was able to buy, or my hygiene would have been real trouble.
I was lucky enough to still have my wallet with cash, but couldn’t escape with my car. Sleeping in my car would have probably made things easier.
Instead, I always felt overwhelmed with the need to stay guarded of anyone who could walk up to me. Between men looking to trap women to sell at the auction houses to those simply looking for a “wild time”, I couldn’t get any peace.
Once you were away from the downtown tourist areas, the sounds of strangled screams and crying was more prevalent as men hunted their prey. Living under Renzo’s roof only prepared me because I always carry a knife, however I’m just a rich girl with very little street smarts.
Place me in a dress and a party, and I can work my way through it with a fake smile on my lips and barbs falling off my tongue. I speak fluent debutante, but I am not physically scrappy.
It’s horrific that the city I love so much isn’t safe for such a vulnerable population. The news insists that the South doesn’t have a problem with the thugs who comb the streets for the auction stalls, but I know from experience that’s not true.
I had to run from three men one night, and now my dreams ring with the sounds of boots on the ground, the clang of wire metal cages when they caught someone else instead, and the guilt that I was powerless to stop it.
I hid in a dumpster to hide my scent until I knew they were gone, and hated the relief I felt afterward.
Savannah’s mayor promised to clean up the city of the homeless population, which simply means the police arrest them and then decide who they’re making a profit from, and who is getting a night in prison.
It makes those without homes for any length of time less safe because Mayor Aletto decided to clean up the streets.
“I’m a person, not garbage,” I mutter to myself, feeling the first drops of rain hit my skin. I changed into a tank top for bed and a pair of sleep shorts, not expecting to take a side quest outside.
Freedom shouldn’t be riddled with constantly looking over your shoulder. The second I snuck over to the church to watch Rosa get married from afar, is when I managed to lose mine.
I doubt I’ll ever tell this to anyone, because it doesn’t sound all that terrifying in the face of what others deal with. However, almost getting picked up by sex traffickers is a pretty big deal for me.
“Do you make a habit of talking to yourself?”
Jumping, I scream as I turn around, my thumb already moving to open the blade and point it with a trembling hand in the direction of the person speaking.
Ciro holds his hands up as he walks down the stairs, a bottle of whiskey and glasses in his hands.
“I usually keep these around for my brother since he’s usually the one pacing late at night.”
“Must be his conscience arguing with him,” I rasp.
“What’s your excuse?” Ciro asks easily, not falling for the trap of my words. “Are you also someone who is wrestling with their conscience? What terrible things have you done?”
“The only terrible things I’ve done have been the ones I haven’t done due to cowardice and incompetence.”
My head tips up as rain continues to drop from the sky, and Ciro stands across from me, stunned by my words.
“You don’t seem like someone who is scared, Verona.”
“Everything scares me,” I retort, blinking as the raindrops cling to my lashes.
My hand drops helplessly by my side, closing the switchblade again and shoving it in my pocket.
The rain is cool, chasing off how overheated my skin felt earlier.
“How does the alpha who is good at nothing but playing pointless politics help her omega when the stakes are so high?”
“By aligning herself with a pack who thinks nothing of snapping necks and setting fire to the refuse. We would rather fix things with fancy words and alliances, but that doesn’t always work. Drink?”
“Why not,” I sigh, glancing at him. Opening the bottle with a flick of his finger, he fills both glasses before handing me one. “What does a pack have to gain with an alliance with a weak alpha?”
Ciro waits until I take the glass and sip from it before he shrugs and drinks as well. Maybe I’ll be able to help the pain in my side with the numbness alcohol will bring. It’s worth a shot.
“For starters, you could agree to stop running from my stepbrother and hurting his feelings. My family means everything to me. Personally, I’m surprised I’m out here and not Dario, but he’s currently wrapped around Pablo’s body because he’s annoyed with you.
It takes a lot to frustrate the fixer in my family. ”