Love is Rage (Bloody Romance #1)

Chapter 1 Elena

CHAPTER 1

ELENA

Elena was swiftly running out of makeup to hide her bruises. She put her compact powder on the vanity and grabbed her school bag from the floor. With a glance at the dust bunnies underneath the bed, she made a mental note to vacuum. When her mom had been alive, the place had been spotless.

A clean house is a clean mind.

She could still hear her say it, lying in the hospital bed. Her body was fragile from chemo, but her eyes and mind were still as sharp as a tack. Sunday cleanup had been their weird, little, happy ritual.

Then, her brother happened, and his motley crew of addict friends who basically squatted at their tiny apartment now.

Her door cracked open and a familiar face poked inside. It pained her to see Ricky like this; her once handsome brother, looking gaunt and worn out, his teeth already showing decay.

“I’m sorry, Lena.”

When he put his hand on her shoulder, she tensed. She knew what words were coming next.

“I love you.”

Not as much as he loved crystal meth. At seventeen, she wasn’t experienced in love, but this wasn’t brotherly love, no matter what he said.

She shook off his hand. “I’m late for school.” Only a few more months and she’d graduate.

“Always with the studying.” He snorted. “You think they’re gonna give a job to white trash like you? Think that doggy clinic is gonna hire you?”

Putting her bag on, she pushed her brother aside. “Yes, Ricky, that’s what I think.”

All she needed to do was work hard, study even harder, and get a shiny diploma. Then, finally, she would have everything she had ever wanted. But more importantly, she would fulfill her promise to her mother.

Be a lion, Lena.

A mulish expression appeared on Ricky’s face. He never could handle her mouthing off to him. “If you think you’re ever getting out of here, you’re stupid.”

“No, you are stupid,” she snarled back at him. “You disgrace Mom with the way you live and the trash you call friends that you bring into our home. She’d be ashamed of you.”

When he raised his fist, she held her ground, too pissed off to move.

“What?” she yelled. “Want to take another hit at me? How are you going to apologize this time? Telling me you were drunk? High?” She looked him up and down, unable to hide her disgust. “When Mom got sick, she told me, ‘Never trust a man to take care of you, Lena. Your father has never been around, nor will your brother. Always take care of yourself.’” After that speech, she had given her a knife, the one that had kept her safe when returning home after her many shifts as a nurse.

Ricky stepped back, just as she predicted. Not giving him time to react, she dashed beside him and ran outside.

Even a year after her death, her mom was protecting her. So far, the mention of her name was the only thing stopping Ricky. But the further their mother’s memory fleeted, the less powerful its influence seemed to get. It was inevitable. One day, Ricky was going to snap during his drug-induced episodes, and then he would either kill her or—worse—sell her to make a buck.

When she rounded the corner and passed the local butcher’s store, she slipped into the alley behind it. On her left, there was the usual line of food containers, and in the corner at the right, would be her dog.

Pucci was a little corgi she had rescued from a dumpster, and usually waited there for her. This time, however, his little feet didn’t pitter-patter her way.

A soft mewl, one of pain, drew her attention and cut through her heart. And then there were laughs. The awful laughs of three men blocking her way and hurting her dog. One of them stood at the front, as if he was showing the other two his “courage” against a defenseless animal. The other two stockier, pale guys she had seen around the block before hung back, having a smoke. She barged past them, hell-bent on protecting Pucci.

Her stomach churned when she saw the cuts and bruises on her dog. Pucci was shaking in the corner, his little legs barely holding him up. She kneeled and petted him, giving him her warmth and strength.

“Look who we got here.”

It was Todd, the no-good scourge of the block, who believed he was a gangster because he wore a bandanna and low-hung baggy jeans.

She looked up into small eyes, who stared at her as if she were another animal he’d just cornered.

Rage filled her, turning her body into a furnace. Once again, she cursed that she wasn’t bigger than her five foot six, and as strong as a Doberman, so she could kick his ass.

“They won’t get away with this,” she whispered to Pucci, who was still shivering.

A hand grabbed a fist of her hair and yanked her up. When she looked into Todd’s pimpled face, all she saw was cruelty. Then it changed into something else. Something worse. His eyes roamed over her shirt and rested on her lips.

“On your knees already. Just the way I like.”

His friends, dressed as a carbon copy of Todd, laughed.

“You sure about this, Todd?” one of them asked, sounding nervous, watching the alley behind him.

Elena could only hope someone would come to her rescue, but she knew that wouldn’t happen. The alley ended up in abandoned houses, too hazardous to live in, and a garage. She shivered, thinking of the garage’s owner, a guy with a perpetual scowl on his face, whose pale blue eyes always seem to follow her whenever she crossed his path.

“Oh, yeah. This stuck-up bitch has to learn her place.” Todd slapped her face, and an all-too-familiar burn spread across her cheek. “Suck my cock. If you’re any good, I’ll let you take the mutt with you.”

A nasty feeling crept up her stomach and settled in it as a dead weight. It felt like that time when Ricky had still been clean and made really bad tamales. She missed her brother. The one who always had her back, and would kill any man who touched her. Too bad he was long gone and a demon had taken his place.

Looking into Todd’s gleeful eyes, Elena knew she was on her own, as she had been for a year now. It was a sad fact of life, that it wasn’t the first time she was in this position. Ever since Ricky had turned their home into a crack house, there had been a few incidents.

Slowly, she pushed her right hand to her back, finding what she looked for.

Before Todd could unbuckle his belt, she struck. Her blade cut the hand he’d been holding her with, nice and deep.

“Fucking bitch!”

She ducked away, right before his fist could connect with her face. Then she jumped up, knife in hand, looking for a way out.

Blazing eyes stared at her. “I’m gonna fuck you up!”

“Not if I get to you first,” she challenged, doing her best to ignore her heart nearly beating out of her chest.

I’m a lion. I’m a lion!

The words didn’t have the effect she was hoping for. Todd and his buddies laughed their asses off. And who could blame them? Here she stood, a paltry five foot six, back against the wall, facing three grown-ass men, who had no qualms in torturing a dog. Her only means of defense? A knife, one she could use just fine. After all, her strategy was, and always had been, cut deep, and then run. But when there were three of them? Her heart started a crazy staccato. She could feel the sweat sliding down her back.

Then something odd happened. Todd’s buddies stumbled back as if they got pulled away by an invisible cord.

A huge man, one who haunted her dreams, stepped in between them. Elena realized the two had stepped back, making way for him.

Her lips thinned. She could only imagine what was about to happen. For a fleeting moment, she considered cutting herself and get it over with. Part of her longed for the freedom and peace it would give her. She would join her mom in heaven, who was with the angels. The only thing stopping her was that she’d be so disappointed in her.

Her knuckles hurt from grasping the knife tightly, but she couldn’t let go. She had to fight. Hold her ground, until the end. And if they let her live, she would pick herself up and find them. Then, she would gut them. Every last one of them.

Todd, finally, seemed to notice something was off too. He turned back to his buddies and frowned.

“Viking? What are you doing here?” There wasn’t anything left of his cockiness from before. All Elena heard was fear. Sweet, sweet fear.

“I live here.”

It was the first time she heard his voice, though it was more of a growl. A pissed off growl. His eyes settled on her, and then on Pucci behind her, who was still mewling. If Todd and his buddies had been pit bulls, this man was a wolf. A big, lone, terrifying wolf. The kind that, once he’d smelled you, would stalk you, and find you wherever you went. Relentless in his pursuit.

Her stomach dropped. There was no way she was getting out of this corner unscathed.

Viking looked at Todd’s buddies and his eyes grew even colder.

“I don’t share. Leave.”

They ran off as if their pants were on fire. Todd remained, standing tall and proud, and Viking seemed fine with it. Apparently, he didn’t mind sharing with him. Guess that was his “finder’s fee.”

Bitterness welled up inside but she didn’t allow it to paralyze her. Resigned to her fate, she took a deep breath. Ignoring Todd, she looked Viking straight in the eyes.

“You will be the first,” she promised.

His brow lifted. It was a blond so light, it was almost white. Even though he couldn’t have been more than a few years older than her, he had a way that showed her he was an old soul. She could see it in his weary gaze. It was the same one she sported on some days, the look you got when you grew up too fast too soon.

The one that held a bit of fatigue, and—truth be told—a bit of resentment for people who could act their age. Like her classmates who lived in nice neighborhoods, both parents present, their biggest concern what to wear at Spring Dance or where to go for the summer holiday. She both hated and envied those people a little.

Pale eyes rested on her lips, then her breasts—making her feel all kinds of funny—and ended on her knife.

“The first what?” he asked.

“The first one I’m going to kill.”

He merely nodded, unlike Todd, who laughed even harder. He stepped aside, giving leeway to the hulking man standing next to him.

Elena cringed. She hadn’t even ever been kissed, and now these beasts were going to violate her. Little by little, cracks started to form in the invisible wall her mind imagined between her and the men standing before her.

“Kill.” His gravelly voice sent shivers down her spine.

Her eyes snapped up to him as he got closer.

“I don’t think you have the stomach for it.”

“Yes, I do.”

He shook his head. “Angels don’t kill people. Demons do.”

Before she could process that, he swung around and stabbed Todd in the stomach.

Even if she lived a hundred years, she wouldn’t forget the sense of shock and betrayal etched onto Todd’s face as he slumped down a dumpster. It was wrong and dark and twisted, but she relished in his pain. He had it coming. Who knew how many other women he had put his filthy hands on?

Viking cleaned up his knife on Todd’s coat, ignoring his whimpers, and put it back in his pocket.

Elena just stood there, frozen, unsure of what he was going to do, or demand.

Then he stepped aside. “Don’t forget your dog.”

Slowly, she turned around, one eye still on Viking. Todd lay at his feet, pressing against the gaping wound on his stomach, blood covering his hands. He cursed and cursed until she could almost see foam form on his mouth.

Not willing to see what was going to happen next, Elena carefully grabbed Pucci. Holding him, she scurried past Viking, who towered over her as if wrath embodied.

“Thank you.”

“Seventeen,” he said softly. “You’re still fucking seventeen.”

She didn’t question how he knew her age, or what he meant by his strange comment. It was as clear as day on his face. There was a raw desire she could barely process. No man had looked at her like that before. Ricky’s friends gave her cursory glances when they believed her brother wasn’t watching, but their eyes on her made her feel dirty, like she was something they could just take, use, and cast away. With Viking, it was different, they held a promise.

Looking into those eyes, she got mesmerized by his pull, and the dark swirl of emotions, the tornado of rage, she had seen in them a second ago had evaporated. There was a softness in his gaze that promised her safety, loyalty, honor.

An ugly truth hit her square in the chest; this man was dangerous and probably all kinds of wrong for her. Or maybe it was her mom who had been wrong. Maybe it was okay to trust a man, to believe in him.

Wrong or right, it didn’t matter. Because, right then and there, in a moldy alley smelling of rotten fruit and urine, Elena did something she vowed to never do.

She irrevocably lost her heart and soul to a man.