Page 6
Story: Requiem
2
Romina
2018….
“HE’S SO DEAD! ARGH!” My hand grips the handle of the knife. It sings through the air and lands dead smack in the middle of his sexy face. He’s all over the tabloids. His cousin’s wedding to some schoolteacher was hardly newsworthy. But him? Roque Salvatore, mob king extraordinaire dancing the night away with a mystery brunette? That was big news.
He’s a recluse.
Private.
Heavily guarded.
The dark king’s rule is absolute.
“And who in the hell is she?”
My blood heats as I pluck the knife from the board where I pinned up their tabloid pic. His eyes. Those damn mesmerizing, hypnotizing bedroom eyes stare down at the woman in his arms. His face is all angular planes, with a classic Roman nose and full lips for a man. His perfect teeth gleam.
He’s a shark.
A demon.
A damn nuisance.
A splinter festering under my skin that I just can’t get out.
A man I loathed and loved for a heartbeat. A stupid, foolish moment in time where I deluded myself into thinking he changed.
I was seventeen and he was brutally sexy and dark. Everything a high school girl should run from instead of running to. And yet I still hoped he didn’t grow up to be the monster I glimpsed one night a lifetime ago.
“I’m going to destroy you like I always said I would. Right after I make that black heart of yours beat only for me. You’ll only look at me like that. Want. Breathe. Live. All for me. Then I’m going to burn your empire to the ground and end your reign.”
My hair the color of a burning sunset in autumn flies around me as I use my anger to fuel my plans. On bare feet, wearing black leggings, I’m as swift and graceful as a prima ballerina. My feet are light, but my hits are hard when I make them.
And I’m saving the hardest one for Romeo Roque. While he slowly built up his empire, I’ve been watching and waiting from a distance making contacts with those who want to see him burn just as much as I do.
“Ugh. I can’t believe I kissed him. Let him touch me!” I scream out loud to my empty walls. I check the Internet, seeing more pics of him and some woman named Lucille. So, she has a name. These new photos are from a club. Her bed hair is perfect. Her dreamy eyes give her away. Maybe I’ll cut her ass up too if it hurts him even slightly. Fuck him and his crazy, exotic sea-blue break-your-heart eyes of his.
Slapping my laptop closed, I get busy packing up my few possessions, drop a rent check for six months in the mail and leave the lights of Vegas behind.
I’ll live right under his nose. I’ll silently stalk my prey and when it’s time, I’ll move in for the kill.I’m too angry to rush to Chicago. The old me would’ve done it. Just flown off the handle and booked a ticket. But I’m smarter know. More experienced than the starry-eyes girl thinking I could defy my fallen angel with Blue hair and fake tattoos.
I finally understand what Zio was trying to say when he told me I wasn’t ready. The problem with being young is thinking you know better—thinking you’re invincible. I won’t make that mistake with Roque twice. I’ll go LA, make some connections with the Chinese mob. Keep honing my craft and when I’m ready I’m going to burn his entire world down.
***
I keep telling myself it’s only angry tears smarting. I’m over Roque. Have been for years. But what is he doing with an almost legal girl? She’s petite, delicate and the hero worship in her eyes makes me crazy sick to my stomach. I used to look at him like that, once. A lifetime ago. And Yet if I close my eyes, it’s like time and space cease to exist and I’m still in his arms moving under the covers, soaring to the stars. It makes me sick to think he has some weird fixation for young girls. Some perverted twisted affection for them. And that maybe that’s all I was some sick, perverted kick of his. I’ll save that little blonde from his evil clutches. No one rescued me. I rescued myself. But that’s because I had training and a certain knowledge form birth that he was the enemy.
But I do get a perverted kick out of being so close to him again while he looks around feeling my stare, knowing something isn’t right without being able to put a finger on it. The hair on the back of his neck stands at attention as I duck around a corner just as he whips his head around.
Who knew stalking was so fun? Smiling, I toss my dyed mud brown hair back and scroll through the pics of took of him and the girl on my phone. He paraded her through boutique after boutique buying her thousands in clothes and good. The Louis Vuitton luggage was a bit over the top though. “Where are you taking her? What is she to you?” I ponder staring at the pictures on the screen. The heels of my boots click on pavement heated by the late August sun. I’m in his city, right under his nose, for the second time and just like the first, he doesn’t even know it. As I throw my bags in the back of my new Audi, I slam the door hard remembering the night I vowed he wouldn’t seduce me again…. The engine revs when I hit the Interstate. My foot is heavy on the gas as I race toward LA as if punishing the road can erase the pain in my past to the night I had fled Jersey…
Romina
2018….
“HE’S SO DEAD! ARGH!” My hand grips the handle of the knife. It sings through the air and lands dead smack in the middle of his sexy face. He’s all over the tabloids. His cousin’s wedding to some schoolteacher was hardly newsworthy. But him? Roque Salvatore, mob king extraordinaire dancing the night away with a mystery brunette? That was big news.
He’s a recluse.
Private.
Heavily guarded.
The dark king’s rule is absolute.
“And who in the hell is she?”
My blood heats as I pluck the knife from the board where I pinned up their tabloid pic. His eyes. Those damn mesmerizing, hypnotizing bedroom eyes stare down at the woman in his arms. His face is all angular planes, with a classic Roman nose and full lips for a man. His perfect teeth gleam.
He’s a shark.
A demon.
A damn nuisance.
A splinter festering under my skin that I just can’t get out.
A man I loathed and loved for a heartbeat. A stupid, foolish moment in time where I deluded myself into thinking he changed.
I was seventeen and he was brutally sexy and dark. Everything a high school girl should run from instead of running to. And yet I still hoped he didn’t grow up to be the monster I glimpsed one night a lifetime ago.
“I’m going to destroy you like I always said I would. Right after I make that black heart of yours beat only for me. You’ll only look at me like that. Want. Breathe. Live. All for me. Then I’m going to burn your empire to the ground and end your reign.”
My hair the color of a burning sunset in autumn flies around me as I use my anger to fuel my plans. On bare feet, wearing black leggings, I’m as swift and graceful as a prima ballerina. My feet are light, but my hits are hard when I make them.
And I’m saving the hardest one for Romeo Roque. While he slowly built up his empire, I’ve been watching and waiting from a distance making contacts with those who want to see him burn just as much as I do.
“Ugh. I can’t believe I kissed him. Let him touch me!” I scream out loud to my empty walls. I check the Internet, seeing more pics of him and some woman named Lucille. So, she has a name. These new photos are from a club. Her bed hair is perfect. Her dreamy eyes give her away. Maybe I’ll cut her ass up too if it hurts him even slightly. Fuck him and his crazy, exotic sea-blue break-your-heart eyes of his.
Slapping my laptop closed, I get busy packing up my few possessions, drop a rent check for six months in the mail and leave the lights of Vegas behind.
I’ll live right under his nose. I’ll silently stalk my prey and when it’s time, I’ll move in for the kill.I’m too angry to rush to Chicago. The old me would’ve done it. Just flown off the handle and booked a ticket. But I’m smarter know. More experienced than the starry-eyes girl thinking I could defy my fallen angel with Blue hair and fake tattoos.
I finally understand what Zio was trying to say when he told me I wasn’t ready. The problem with being young is thinking you know better—thinking you’re invincible. I won’t make that mistake with Roque twice. I’ll go LA, make some connections with the Chinese mob. Keep honing my craft and when I’m ready I’m going to burn his entire world down.
***
I keep telling myself it’s only angry tears smarting. I’m over Roque. Have been for years. But what is he doing with an almost legal girl? She’s petite, delicate and the hero worship in her eyes makes me crazy sick to my stomach. I used to look at him like that, once. A lifetime ago. And Yet if I close my eyes, it’s like time and space cease to exist and I’m still in his arms moving under the covers, soaring to the stars. It makes me sick to think he has some weird fixation for young girls. Some perverted twisted affection for them. And that maybe that’s all I was some sick, perverted kick of his. I’ll save that little blonde from his evil clutches. No one rescued me. I rescued myself. But that’s because I had training and a certain knowledge form birth that he was the enemy.
But I do get a perverted kick out of being so close to him again while he looks around feeling my stare, knowing something isn’t right without being able to put a finger on it. The hair on the back of his neck stands at attention as I duck around a corner just as he whips his head around.
Who knew stalking was so fun? Smiling, I toss my dyed mud brown hair back and scroll through the pics of took of him and the girl on my phone. He paraded her through boutique after boutique buying her thousands in clothes and good. The Louis Vuitton luggage was a bit over the top though. “Where are you taking her? What is she to you?” I ponder staring at the pictures on the screen. The heels of my boots click on pavement heated by the late August sun. I’m in his city, right under his nose, for the second time and just like the first, he doesn’t even know it. As I throw my bags in the back of my new Audi, I slam the door hard remembering the night I vowed he wouldn’t seduce me again…. The engine revs when I hit the Interstate. My foot is heavy on the gas as I race toward LA as if punishing the road can erase the pain in my past to the night I had fled Jersey…